L : What are the ensigns of imperiał sway? Teach they the voice to pour a sweeter lay? When bleeds the heart as Genius, blooms unknown? When melts the eye o'er Virtne's mournful bier? Not wealth, but pity, sivells the bursting groan? Not pow'r, but whisp'ring Nature, prompts the tear. Sav, gentle mourner, in yon mouldy vault, Where the worm fattens on some scepter'd brow, Beneath that roof with sculptur'd marble fraught, Why sleeps unmor'd the breathless dust below? Sleeps it more sweetly than the simple swain f Beneath some mossy turf that rests his head; Where the lone widow tells the night her pain, And eve with dewy tears embalnis the dead? The lily, screen'd from ev'ry ruder gale, Courts not the cultur'd spot where roses spring; But blows neglected in the peaceful vale, And scents the zephyr's balmy breathing wing. The busts of grandeur, and the pomp of pow'r, Can these bid Sorrow's gushing tears subside? Can these avail in that tremendous hour, [tide? When Death's cold hand congeals the purple Ah no! the mighty names are heard no more: Pride's thought sublime, and Beauty's kindling bloom, Serve but to sport one flying moment o'er, tomb. 'Or where the violet pale Droops o'er the green-embroider'd stream; Sits on yon hoary tow'r with ivy crown'd, 1. 2. Oft, while on earth, 'twas thine to rove The loose rob'd Graces, crown'd with flow'rs, cents broke: 1. 3 "To thee my favorite son, belong "The lays that steal the list'ning hour; "To pour the rapture-darting song, For me may Passion ne'er my soul invade, "To paint gay Hope's Elysian bower. Nor be the whims of tow'ring Phrenzy giv'n; "From Nature's hand to snatch the dart, Let Wealth ne'er court me from the peaceful To cleave with pangs the bleeding heart; shade [ven! Where Contemplation wings the soul to HeaOh guard me safe from Joy's enticing snare! With each extreme that Pleasure tries to hide, The poison'd breath of slow-consuming Care, The noise of Folly, and the dreams of Pride. But oft, when midnight's sadly solemn knell Sounds long and distant from the sky-topt tow'r, Calm let me sit in Prosper's lonely cell*, Or walk with Milton thro' the dark obscure. Thus, when the transient dream of life is fled, May some sad friend recal the former years; Then, stretch'd in silence o'er my dusty bed, Pour the warm gush of sympathetic tears. § 118. Ode to the Genius of Shakespeare. "Or lightly sweep the trembling string, "And call the Loves with purple wing "From the blue deep, where they dwell With Naiads in the pearly cell. "Soft on the sea-born goddess gazet; "Or in the loose robes' floating maze, "Dissolv'd in downy slumbers rest; "Or flutter o'er her panting breast. "Or wild to melt the yielding soul, "Let Sorrow, clad in sable stole, "Slow to thy musing thought appear; "Or pensive Pity, pale; "Or Love's desponding tale " Call from th' intender'd heart the sympathetic II. 1. [tear." Sudden the mantling cliff, the arching wood, Hears not the mourner's unavailing moan: The broider'd mead, the landscape and the grove, Heart-pierc'd he bleeds; and, stung with wild Hills, vales, and sky-dipt seas, and torrents rude, despair, [hair. Grots, rills, and shades, and bow'rs, that breath'd Bares his time-blasted head, and tears his silver of love, All burst to sight! while glancing on the view, Titania's sporting train brush'd lightly o'er the II. 2. [dew. The pale ey'd Genius of the shade Such visions bless the hermit's dream, III. 2. Lo! on yon long-resounding shore, Where the rock totters o'er the headlong deep ; What phantoms bath'd in infant gore Stand mutt'ring on the dizzy steep! Their murmur shakes the zephyr's wing! The storm obeys their powerful spell; See from this gloomy cell Fierce Winter starts! his scowling eye Blots the fair mantle of the breathing Spring, And lowers along the ruffled sky, To the deep vault the yelling harpies run §; Its yawning mouth receives th' inferual crew, Din thro' the black gloom winks the glimmer ing sun, Then flam'd Miranda on th' enraptur'd gaze, II. 3. Oh lay me near yon limpid stream, The blue wing streak'd with beamy gold; III. 1. But hark! the tempest howls afar, III. 3. But, ah! on Sorrow's cypress bough Can beauty breathe her genial bloom? On Death's cold cheek will passion glow! Or Music warble from the tomb? There sleeps the Bard, whose tuneful tongue Pour'd the full stream of mazy song. Young Spring, with lip of ruby, here Show'rs from her lap the blushing year; While, along the turf reclin'd, The loose wing swimming on the wind, The Loves, with forward gesture bold, Sprinkle the sod with spangling gold: And oft the blue-eyed Graces trim Dance lightly round on downy limb, Oft too, when eve, demure and still, Chequers the green dale's purling rill, Sweet Fancy pours the plaintive strain; Or, wrapt in soothing dream, By Avon's ruffled stream, Hears the low-murmuring gale that dies alot.g [the plain. [lawnt. §119. Ode to Time; occasioned by seeing the mantled Ruins of an old Castle. OGILVIE. pathless I. 1. [waste! O THOU, who mid the world-involving gloom, Unaw'd, nor heeds the sweeping storm? * Ariel: see the Tempest. And marks the flight of each revolving year, † See the Midsummer Night's Dream. $ Lear. § The Witches in Macbeth, Say, Say, when these long-unfolding scenes appear, The vale where musing Quiet treads, Streams down thy hoary cheek the pity-darting The flow'r-clad lawns, and bloomy meads, tear? Or streams where Zephyr loves to stray Beneath the pale eve's twinkling ray; I. 2. Cast o'er yon trackless waste thy wand'ring eye: Or waving woods detain the sight Yon hill, whose gold-illumin'd brow, Just trembling thro' the bending sky, O'erlooks the boundless wild below, Once bore the branching wood That o'er yon murmuring flood Hung wildly waving to the rustling gale ; I. 3. Ye wilds where heaven-rapt Fancy roves! [years? That mourns the ceaseless lapse of life-consuming When from the gloomy cave of night swims, and dies, II. 3. III. 1. But why o'er these indulge the bursting sigh? II. 1. O call th' inspiring glorious hour to view, When Caledonia's martial train From yon steep rock's high-arching brow Pour'd on the heart-struck flying Dane! When War's blood-tinctur'd spear Hung o'er the trembling rear ; [flight: When light-heel'd Terror wing'd their headlong Yon tow'rs then rung with wild alarms! While on the bleak hill's bright'ning spire Her wings were ting'd with spangling gold, Hark! what dire sound rolls murm'ring on the soul of fight. II. 2. But, ah! what hand the smiling prospect brings: Sad monument! - Ambition near Rolls on the dust, and pours a tear; Pale Honor drops the flutt'ring plume, [brow! What voice recals th' expiring day? See, darting swift on eagle-wings, And Conquest weeps o'er Cæsar's tomb; Slow Patience sits, with eye deprest, The glancing moment bursts away! So from some mountain's head, And Courage beats his sobbing breast; [flow, Ev'n War's red cheek the gushing streams o'er In mantling gold array'd, And Fancy's list'ning ear attends the plaint of While bright-eyed Fancy stands in sweet surprise: Woe. III. 3. Lo, on yon pyramid sublime, With silver locks his furrow'd head; Rapt Contemplation stalks along, Oft, shelter'd by the rambling sprays, Lead o'er the forest's winding maze; Where, thro' the mantling boughs, afar Gliminers the silver-streaming star; And, shower'd from ev'ry rustling blade, The loose light floats along the shade: So hov'ring o'er the human scene Gay Pleasure sports with brow serene: Thence rolls the mighty pow'r his broad survey, By Fancy beam'd, the glancing ray And seals the nations' awful doom: He sees proud grandeur's meteor ray; Shoots, flutters, gleams, and fleets away: Unsettled, dubious, restless, blind, Floats all the busy bustling mind; He yields to joy the festive day; them for the tomb. §120. Ode to Evening. OGILVIE. Come, Nymph demure, with mantle blue, Lo, where thy meek-ey'd train attend! No trace from all th' ideal train. by ev Lo, where the sun's broad orb withdrawa Skirts with pale gold the dusky lawn; While, led v'ry gentler pow'r, Steals the slow, solemn, musing hour. Now from the green hill's purple brow Let me mark the scene below; Where, feebly glancing thro' the gloom, Yon myrtle shades the silent tomb: Not far, beneath the evening beam The dark lake rolls his azure stream, Whose breast the swan's white plumes divide, Slow-sailing o'er the floating tide. Groves, meads, and spires, and forests bare, Shoot glimm'ring thro' the misty air; Dim as the vision-pictur'd bow'r That gilds the saint's expiring hour, When, rapt to ecstasy, his eye Looks through the blue ethereal sky: All heaven unfolding to his sight! Gay forms that swim in floods of light! The sun-pav'd floor, the balmy clime, The ruby-beaming dome sublime; The tow'rs in glitt'ring pomp display'dThe bright scene hovers o'er his bed: He starts but from his eager gaze Black clouds obscure the lessening rays; On mem'ry still the scene is wrought, And lives in Fancy's featur'd thought. On the airy mount reclin'd What wishes sooth the musing mind! How soft the velvet lap of Spring =Goddess of the plaintive song, 2 Bid dimpled Mirth, with thought belied, - Paint Superstition's starting eyc, : refin'd - Howls to the hoarse deep's dashing wave; Thee Solitude to Phœbus bore, Far on the lone, deserted shore, Where Orellano's rushing tide Roars on the rock's projected side. Hence bursting o'er thy ripen'd mind, Beams all the father's thought r Hence oft, in silent vales unseen, Thy footsteps print the fairy green; Or thy soul melts to strains of woe, That from the willow's quiv'ring bough Sweet warbling breathe - the zephyrs round O'er Dee's smooth current waft the sound, When soft on bending osiers laid The broad sun trembling through the bed; All wild thy heav'n-rapt fancy strays, Led thro the soul-dissolving maze; Till slumber downy-pinion'd, Plants her strong feslocks on thy ear; The soul unfetter'd bursts away, And basks enlarg'd in beamy day. near §121. Ode to Innocence. OGILVIE. 'Twas when the slow-declining ray "On Thee attends a radiant choir, "Oh sent from heaven to haunt the grove, "Grant, heavenly Pow'r! thy peaceful sway May still my ruder thoughts control; Thy voice to sooth the melting soul. "Far in the shady, sweet retreat, "Let Thought beguile the ling'ring hour; Let Quiet court the inossy seat, "And twining olives from the bow'r :" ) § 122. Morning; or, The Complaint. An American Eclogue. GREGORY. FAR from the savage bandit's fierce alarms, With waving pines tho' vocal woods be crown'd And stream-fed vales with livingwealthabound, To golden fields tho' ripening rays descend, With blushing fruit the loaded branches bend To thosewho ne'er mustfreedom's blessingstaste, 'Tis barren all, 'tis all a worthless waste. Whilehoarse the cataract murmur'd on the gale And chilling dews swept thro' the murky dale; Along the hills the dismal tempest howl'd, And lightnings flash'd, and deep the thunder roll'd; Beneath a leafless tree, ere morn aróse, peat! Terrific forms, from misty lakes arise! Lo! |