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What are the ensigns of imperiał sway?
What all that Fortune's lib'ral hand has brought?

Teach they the voice to pour a sweeter lay?
Or rouse the soul to more exalted thought?

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,
And swell with pompous verse th' escutcheon'd

tomb.

'Or where the violet pale

Droops o'er the green-embroider'd stream;
Or where young Zephyr stirs the rustling sprays,
Lies alt dissolv'd in fairy dream.
O'er yon bleak desert's unfrequented round
Seest thou where Nature treads the deep'ning
gloom,

Sits on yon hoary tow'r with ivy crown'd,
Or wildly wails o'er thy lamented tomb?
Hear'st thou the solemn music wind along? [song?
Or thrills the warbling note in thy mellifluous

1. 2.

Oft, while on earth, 'twas thine to rove
Where'er the wild-ey'd goddess lov'd to roam,
To trace serene the gloomy grove,
Or haunt meek Quiet's simple dome;
Still hovering round the Nine appear,
That pour the soul transporting strain;
Join'd to the Loves' gay train,

The loose rob'd Graces, crown'd with flow'rs,
The light wing'd gales that lead the vernal year,
And wake the rosy-featur'd hours.
O'er all bright Fancy's beamy radiance shone,
How flam'd thy bosom as her charms reveal!
Her fire-clad eye sublime, her starry zone,
Her traces loose, that wanton'd on the gale:
On thee the goddess fix'd her ardent look,
Then from her glowing lips these melting ac

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.

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"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."

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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
Led thy bold step to Prosper's magic how'r;
Whose voice the howling winds obey'd,
Whose dark spell chain'd the rapid hour:
Then rose serene the sea-girt isle;
Gay scenes, by Fancy's touch refin'd,
Glow'd to the musing mind:

Such visions bless the hermit's dream,
When hovering angels prompt his placid smile,
Or paint soine high ecstatic theme.

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,
Then sail'd bright Ariel on the bat's fleet wing:
And the pale furnace gleams with brimstoneblue.
Or starts the list'ning throng in still amaze,
Hell howls; andfiends, that join the dire acclaim,
The wild note trembling on the aërial string! ! Dance on the bubbling tide, and point the
The form, in heaven's resplendent vesture gay,
livid Aame.
Floats on the mantling cloud, and pours the
melting lay *.

II. 3.

Oh lay me near yon limpid stream,
Whose murmur soothes the ear of woe!
Tisere in some sweet poetic dream
Let Fancy's bright Elysium glow!
*Tis done-o'er all the blushing mead
The dark wood shakes his cloudy head:
Below, the lily-fringed dale
Breathes its mild fragrance on the gale;
While, in pastime all unseen,
Titania, rob'd in mantle green,
Sports on the mossy bank: her train
Skins light along the gleaming plain :
Or to the flutt'ring breeze unfold

The blue wing streak'd with beamy gold;
Its pinions op'ning to the light!--
Say, bursts the vision on my sight?
Ah, no! by Shakspeare's pencil drawn,
The beauteous shapes appear;
While meek-eyed Cynthia near
Illumes with streamy ray the silver

III. 1.

But hark! the tempest howls afar,
Bursts the lond whirlwind o'er the
What cherub blows the trump of war?
What demon rides the stormy blast?
Red from the lightning's livid blaze,
The bleak heath rushes on the sight;
Then, wrapt in sudden night
Dissolves. But, ah! what kingly form
Roams the lonė desert's desolated maze

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,
Sitt'st on yon solitary spire!
Or slowly shak'st the sounding dome,
Or hear'st the wildly-warbling lyre;
Say, when thy musing soul
Bids distant timës unrol,

Unaw'd, nor heeds the sweeping storm?
Ye pale-ey'd lightnings, spare the cheek of age!
Vainwish! tho anguishheavestheburstinggroan,
Deaf as the flint, the marble ear of rage

* Ariel: see the Tempest.

And marks the flight of each revolving year,
Of years whose slow-consuming pow'r
Has clad with moss yon leaning tow'r
That saw the race of Glory run,..
That mark'd Ambition's setting sun,
That shook old Empire's tow'ring pride,
That swept them down the floating tide-

† 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 ;
The naked heath with moss o'ergrown,
That hears the lone owl's nightly inoan,
Once bloom'd with summer's copious store,
Once rais'd the lawn-bespangled flow'r;
Or heard some lover's plaintive lay,
When, by pale Cynthia's silver ray,
All wild he wander'd o'er the lonely dale, [tale.
And taught the list'ning moon the melancholy

I. 3.

Ye wilds where heaven-rapt Fancy roves!
Ye sky crown'd hills, and solemn groves!
Ye low-brow'd vaults, ye gloomy cells !
Ye caves where night-bred Silence dwells!
Ghosts that in yon lonely hall
Lightly glance along the wall;
Or beneath yon ivy'd tow'r,
At the silent midnight hour,
Stand array'd in spotless white,
And stain the dusky robe of Night;
Or with slow solemn pauses roain
O'er the long-sounding hollow dome!
Say, mid yon desert solitary round,
When darkness wraps the boundless spheres,
Does ne'er some dismal, dying sound
On Night's dull serious ear rebound;

[years?

That mourns the ceaseless lapse of life-consuming

When from the gloomy cave of night
Some cloud sweeps shadowy o'er the dusky skies,
And wraps the flying scene, that fades, and

swims, and dies,

II. 3.

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III. 1.

But why o'er these indulge the bursting sigh?
Feels not each shrub the tempest's pow'r?
Rocks not the dome when whirlwinds fly?
Nor shakes the hill when thunders roar?
Lo! mould'ring, wild, unknown,
What fanes, what tow'rs o'erthrown,
What tumbling chaos marks the waste of Time!
I see Palmyra's temples fall;
Old Ruin shakes the hanging wall!
Yon waste where roaming lions howl,
Yon aisle where moans the grey-eyed owl,
Shows the Proud Persian's great abode * ;
Where sceptred once, an earthly god! [clime,
His pow'r-clad arm control'd cach happier

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:

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When light-heel'd Terror wing'd their headlong

Yon tow'rs then rung with wild alarms!
Yon desert gleam'd with shining arms!

While on the bleak hill's bright'ning spire
Bold Victory flam'd, with eyes of fire;
Her limbs celestial robes enfold,

Her wings were ting'd with spangling gold,
She spoke: her words infus'd resistless might,
And warm'd the bounding heart, and rous'd the

Hark! what dire sound rolls murm'ring on the
Ah! what soul-thirsting scene appears? [gale?
I see the column'd arches fail!
And structures hoar, the boast of years!
What mould'ring piles, decay'd,
Gleam through the moon-streak'd shade,
Where Rome's proud genius rear'd her awful

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.

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III. 3.

Lo, on yon pyramid sublime,
Whence lies Old Egypt's desert clime,
Bleak, naked, wild! where ruin low'rs,
"Mid fanes, and wrecks, and tumbling tow'rs,
On the steep height, waste and bare,
Stands the Pow'r with hoary hair!
O'er his scythe he bends; his hand
Slowly shakes the flowing sand,
While the hours, and airy ring
Lightly flit, with downy wing,
And sap the works of man; and shade

With silver locks his furrow'd head;

Rapt Contemplation stalks along,
And hears the slow clock's pealing tongue;
Or, 'mid the dun discolor'd gloom,
Sits on the hero's peaceful tomb,
Throws life's gay glitt'ring robe aside,
And tramples on the neck of Pride.

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;
Then sweeps the length'ning shade, and marks While Mem'ry's unstain'd leaves retain

them for the tomb.

§120. Ode to Evening. OGILVIE.
MEEK Pow'r, whose balmy-pinion'd gale
Steels o'er the flow'r-enamell'd dale!
Whose voice in gentle whispers near
Oft sighs to Quiet's list'ning ear;
As, on her downy couch, at rest,
By Thought's inspiring visions blest
She sits, with white-rob'd Silence nigh,
And musing heaves her serious eye,
To mark the slow sun's glimm'ring ray,
To catch the last pale gleam of day;
Or, sunk in sweet repose, unknown
Lies on the wild hill's van alone:
And sees thy gradual pencil flow
Along the heaven-illumin'd bow.

Come, Nymph demure, with mantle blue,
Thy traces bath'd in balmy dew,
With step smooth sliding o'er the green,
The graces breathing in thy mien;
And thy vesture's gather'd fold
Girt with a zone of circling gold;
And bring the harp, wh whose solemn string
Dies to the wild wind's murm'ring wing;
And the Nymph, whose eye serene
Marks the calm-breathing woodland scene :
Thought, mountain sage! who loves to climb,
And haunts the dark rock's summit dim;
Let Fancy, falcon-wing'd, be near :
And through the cloud-envelop'd sphere,
Where musing roams Retirement hoar,
Lull'd by the torrent's distant roar,
Oh bid with trembling light to glow
The raven-plume that crowns his brow.

Lo, where thy meek-ey'd train attend!
Queen of the solemn thought, descend !
Oh hide me in romantic bow'rs!
Or lead my step to ruin'd tow'rs!
Where gleaming through the chinky door
The pale ray gilds the moulder'd floor;
While beneath the hallow'd pile,
Deep in the desert shrieking aisle,

No trace from all th' ideal train.
But see, the landscape op'ning fair
Invites to breathe the purer air!
Oh when the cowslip-scented gale
Shakes the light dew-drop o'er the dale,
When on her amber-dropping bed
Loose Ease reclines her downy head;
How blest! by fairy-haunted stream
To melt in mild ecstatic dream!
Die to the pictur'd wish, or hear
(Breath'd soft on Fancy's trembling ear)
Such lays by angel-harps refin'd,
As half unchain'd the flutt'ring mind,
When on life's edge it eyes the shore,
And all its pinions stretch to soar.

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
How sweet the Zephyr's violet wing!

=Goddess of the plaintive song,
That leads the melting heart along!
Oh bid the voice of genial pow'r
- Reach Contemplation's lonely bow'r;
And call the sage with tranced sight
= To climb the mountain's steepy height;
2. To wing the kindling wish, or spread
■O'er Thought's pale cheek enliv'ning red;
Come, hoary Pow'r, with serious eye,
- Whose thought explores yon distant sky;
= Now, when the busy world is still,
*Nor passion tempts the wav'ring will,
When sweeter hopes each pow'r control,
And quiet whispers to the soul,
Now sweep from life, th' illusive train
That dance in Folly's dizzy brain :
Be Reason's simple draught portray'd,
Where blends alternate light and shade;

2 Bid dimpled Mirth, with thought belied,
Sport on the bubble's glitt'ring side;
Bid Hope pursue the distant boon,
And Phrensy watch the fading moon;

- Paint Superstition's starting eyc,
And Wit that leers with gesture sly;
Let Censure whet her venom'd dart,
And green-eyed Envy gnaw the heart;
Let Pleasure lie on flow'rs reclin'd,
While anguish aims her shaft behind.
Hail, Sire sublime! whose hallow'd cave

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refin'd

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- 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
Had ting'd the cloud with evening gold;
No warbler pour'd the melting lay,
No sound disturb'd the sleeping fold:
When by a murm'ring rill reclin'd,
Sat, wrapt in thought, a wand'ring swain;
Calm peace compos'd his musing mind;
And thus he rais'd the flowing strain:

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"On Thee attends a radiant choir,
"Soft smiling Peace, and downy Rest;
"With Love, that prompts the warbling lyre;
"And Hope, that sooths the throbbing breast.

"Oh sent from heaven to haunt the grove,
"Where squinting Envy ne'er can come!
Nor pines hes the cheek with luckless love,
"Nor anguish chills the living bloom.
"But spotless Beauty rob'd in white,
"Sits on yon moss-grown hill reclin'd:
"Serene as heaven's unsullied light,
"And pure as Delia's gentle mind.

"Grant, heavenly Pow'r! thy peaceful sway

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May still my ruder thoughts control;
Thy hand to point my dubious way,

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 :"

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)

§ 122. Morning; or, The Complaint. An American Eclogue. GREGORY.

FAR from the savage bandit's fierce alarms,
Or distant din of horrid despot's arins,
Tho' Pennsylvania boasts her peaceful plain,
Yet there in blood her petty tyrants reign.

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,
The slave Adala thus laments his woes.
Ye grisly spectres, gather round my seat,
From caves unblest that wretch's groans re-

peat!

Terrific forms, from misty lakes arise!
And bloody meteors threaten thro' the skies!
Oh curs'd destroyers of our hapless race,
Of human kind the terror and disgrace!

Lo!

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