Did raging ftorms o'er Ocean's bofom fweep? 'Twas angry Neptune fmote the troubled deep; Did clouds condens'd emit electric fire? 'Twas Jove's wide-wafting inftrument of ire: Did crops luxuriant fertile fields adorn? 'Twas Ceres deck'd the vales with wavy corn; Or Bacchus bade the high embowering vine, Loaded with clusters, round the eim entwine: But, if they perifh'd by untimely blight, The Furies tainted the cold dews of night; Or, if they fell beneath the waste of wars, 'Twas the dire ravage of infatiate Mars.
Thus, as the mufe-infpired poet fang, Each abstract caufe to form fubftantial sprang; Affumed a local dwelling, and a name, And rofe to Fancy in a human frame.
Hence mimic art prefum'd, with bold defign, Nature's best works to embellish and refine; In earthly moulds the foul's conceptions drew ; And raised immortal fhapes to mortal view; The attributes of Heaven in man combined, And ftamp'd his image with his Maker's mind. The front majestic of imperial Jove, Proclaim'd the ruler of the realms above: Wifdom's mild light, in modest force array'd, Beam'd in the image of his martial maid; While keen fagacity and quickness shone In every feature of fair Maia's fon; Stout Hercules' vaft limbs and fpacious cheft, Pure abstract strength perfonified exprefs'd: Light Pleafure's fmiling grace and wanton mien, Play'd in the form of Love's voluptuous queen; While from her half-closed eyes beam'd rays of fire, And on her lips fprang fighs of young defire. Alike each attribute divine was shown, In ftated forms and features of its own; Prefiding Genii watch'd o'er every hill, And Naiads rofe in every limpid rill: Where'er the lonely wanderer chanc'd to rove, He found the immortal progeny of Jove: Diffufed alike through ocean, earth, and air, Unnumber'd fpirits heard his evening prayer; And still, as flumber clofed his weary eyes, Bade dreams of comfort in his fancy rife; Whilft hovering round celeftial forms appear'd Raifed drooping Hope, and finking forrow cheer'd. Hail, happy errors of delufive Thought! Unreal visions, with true bleffings fraught; Once more from heaven defcend, to mortals kind, And caft your magic fpells around the mind;
Film o'er the fight of fpeculative eyes, Nor let us feel the curfe, to be too wife!
Again, ye Mufes, let your fongs refound, And the vain fophift's frigid cant confound; Again to rapture wake the lofty strains, That once re-echoed o'er fwift Meles' plains; Or, with lefs bright and animating glow, Cheer'd wintry Afcra 'midft her wilds of fnow; Or rofe fedate, with calm and fteady pride, Where Mincius' ftreans in wandering eddies glide; And taught the ruthlefs fons of war and spoil, To honour agriculture's ufeful toil.
Truth now is all the Mufes have to boast, Since Fancy mourns her airy visions loft; And Fiction, ftripp'd of every playful grace, To frigid fophiftry reigns its place; To frigid fophiftry, which breaks the spells, Beneath whofe fhade the magic power dwells; And all its elevated flights confines, Low in the trammels of its critic lines; Or cramps its vigour, and its fervour cools, In the dull torpor of unmeaning rules; Till quite benumb'd, it now can only move, In fcenes of private life, and hapless love;
Where tales on tales, through endless volumes flow, Stuff'd with the unmeaning cant of love and woe: O'er which fond fentimental damfels weep, Till, drown'd in forrows, they fall fast asleep. But the bright vifions, which in days of yore, Plumed Fancy's wings, and taught the mind to foar, Are funk for ever from the prying fight, Since touch'd by fophiftry's cold blasting light. No Genii now through feas of ether glide, To wing the breezes, or the tempefts guide; No thundering god the mountain's fummit fhrouds, In rolling eddies of fulphureous clouds: No playful Dryads cheer the lonely woods, Or fportive Naiads float in cryftal floods: The world proceeds by cold mechanic laws, And fools and fophifts know alike their cause. E'en the rude fables of our rugged climes, The dark materials of old Runic rhymes, Though nicely fpun by cabalistic wit, Each winding maze of modern creeds to fit, Have now their fierce terrific charms refign'd, Nor dare affail the unletter'd peasant's mind. No more he fees the pale and wandering fprite Glide through the filent horrors of the night; Nor hears the hoarfe ill-boding goblin roar Along the wintry torrents troubled fhore,
No demon now the enchanter's voice obeys, To guard the foreft, or the ftorm to raise; To bid falfe hopes foul deeds of blood excite, Qr panic fears turn conquering chiefs to flight. No guardian angels now from heaven defcend, The Almighty's fhield o'er virtue to extend; To heal the wounded, and protect the brave; And valour, prefs'd by mightier foes, to fave. No fairies now, or dapper elves are feen, By Fancy's eye, light-tripping o'er the green: No more on vehicles of thought they ride, The waking phantoms of the brain to guide; Or, wafted on the moon's myfterious beams, Lead the light progeny of fleeting dreams, Thus, of ideal images bereft,
The Mufe's humbler task is only left, Dry fact and folid argument to ftrew With flowers refresh'd in Heliconian dew;
And the light flow of narrative to trace
With just expreffion, and with eafy grace.
DESCRIPTION of the PALACE of AMBITION, and of the FIENDS who frequent it.
[From JOAN of ARC, an EPIC POEM, by ROBERT SOUTHEY.)
ND firft a landscape rofe
More wild and wafte and defolate, than where
The white bear drifting on a field of ice
Howls to her funder'd cubs with piteous rage And favage agony. Mid the drear fcene A craggy mafs uprear'd its mifty brow,
Untouch'd by breath of fpring, unwont to know Red fummer's influence, or the chearful face. Of autumn; yet its fragments many and huge. Aftounded ocean with the dreadful dance Of whirlpools numberless, abforbing oft The blameless fiber at his perilous toil. Upon the topmost height the maiden faw A meteor-lighted dome: to every blast Shook the wide fabric, tottering as to fall, For ever tottering. round the tempefts yell'd. Tremendous, mufic hoarfe! yet to the ear Of him who there had rule, the Dynaft ftern, Not undelightful. His perturbed flight Anxious and gloomy, peeding hitherwards, She faw the dark-wing'd fhape: with all its towers. The palace nods: fuch was Ambition's voice! Obedient first, fierce fervant of fierce lord,
Cowl'd Superftition comes, her loofen'd robes Float on the breeze and half exposed to view The rufted dagger. By her fide crept on Mitred Hypocrify, with meekeft mien
And step demure, and crofs, which to his heart He preft, and feem'd with heaven-ward eye to pour The pious prayer; yet never prayer he pour'd Save when with fecret glance he view'd the crowd Admiring near. Revenge unwilling quits The mangled corfe; and prodigal of death Next Slaughter ftrode; his falchion yet unfheath'd Reeks from the wound, loofe flow his long black locks, The wide roll of his eye is terrible,
And each limb quivers. Cruelty comes next, With favage fmile grafping a widowed dove. And Fury next beating her own fwoln breast Rufh'd at the call: and Envy hideous form Gnawing her flefh, and tearing from her head. The viper turn'd to bite: and Horror wild With creeping flesh. Defpair his fullen arms Folded; aye muttering dark and half-form'd words Of dreadful import. Aged Avarice next Hugg'd to his heart his bags, and caft around (Unwilling tho' to lofe the golden fight,) The fearful look. And fitful Jealoufy Anxious for mifery came: and feverish Luft Hot from the convent. Paified Fear filed on, And ever as he fled his ghaftly eye Reverts. Then ftalk'd along the giant form Of proud Oppreffion, on his crowned brow Sate Defolation, and his pitylefs frown Difpeopled countries: him behind a train Loathly and horrible, of nameless fiends Outnumbering locufts. Laft, as fill'd with fear Sufpicion ever-watchtul clos'd the train: Pale meagre fpectre, ribb'd with iron plates, Sleeplefs, and fearful of the friendly meal, Worn out with anxious vigilance of life.
Thefe at the palace meet, there, porter fit, Remorfe for ever his fad vigils kept,
H's heart the viper's feaft: worn down his face,
If face it were when scarce the shrivell'd skin
Wrap'd o'er the bone, proclaim'd the gnawing pang:
Inly he groan'd, or starting wildly, friek'd,
Aye as the fabric tottering from its base
Threaten'd deftru&tion, tho' oft announc'd with-held, Tho' ftill with-held, expected.
Mark'd as they fteer'd their dufky flight along; And lo! fhe was amidst them.
The floor breath'd peftilence: the emblazon'd walls With enfigns and with blood-ftain'd arms were hung, The trophies of Ambition. In his throne
That form portentous rear'd his giant bulk, More huge than he, who with his hundred arms Scatter'd confufion o'er the hoft of gods Briareus: or the monster brethren twain, Whofe ftature fwelling every hour gave hopes Of equalling highest Heaven: nor larger he Illufive, 'gainft whofe head the thunderer Thor Sped fruftrate his full force. A fable helm
Shades his brown face, where glow'd thro' each dark tint The fire of anger; in his hand he grafp'd The defolating fpear; his broad black brow In thought contracted fpake his brooding foul, Sullenly filent.
STORY OF THELAMONT and ALMERIA.
[From the SEA, a POEм, by JOHN BIDLAKE, B. A.]
WOW thrice three bright revolving funs had view'd Fond Thelamont to his Almeria join'd;
With rapture melting into fix'd esteem; Equal delight, and foul-exchanging bliss, So beam'd, fo fmil'd, fo parted ev'ry year!
Bright fhone a fummer's moṛn, when Thelamont Upon a placid fea fet fail; intent
With baited hook to tempt the finny tribe. Cruel delight! From native beds to drag The wounded fools, and fpoil their filv'ry fcales And spotted pride, writh'd on the tort'rous hook, In fufferance dumb, Q be meek mercy heard! Thrice bleft be he, who ever kindness fhews To the poor brutal race: confign'd by him, Who fhelters all, to reafon's manly rule And mild humanity's more tender care. Thrice bleft be he! foft pity copious fhow'r Thy gracious dews upon his head; refresh His tender heart, and glad his darkfome days. He to Almeria firft his purpose spoke. She meek and timid fair, by nature fearful, But more through love, with look ineffable, And glift'ning eyes, with foft affection' bright, Thus fpake, "Why try the dangerous wave to-day? "Oft have I fear'd fome dire mishap, when thou "Upon the faithless main hast solace fought, 3
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