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High rais'd in solemn theatre around,
The coming rage. Th’awaken'd village starts, Leans the huge elephant, wisest of brutes !
And to her fluttering breast the mother strains O truly wise! with gentle might endow'd,
Her thoughtless infant. From the pirate's den, Though powerful not destructive ! here he sees Or stern Morocco's tyrant fang escap'd, Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth,
The wretch half wishes for his bonds again; And empires rise and fall; regardless he
While, uproar all, the wilderness resounds Of what the never-resting race of men
From Atlas eastward to the frighted Nile.
Society, cut off, is left alone
And views the main that ever toils below,
Still fondly forming in the farthest verge, Wide o'er the winding umbrage of the floods, Where the round ether mixes with the wave, Like vivid blossoms glowing from afar,
Ships dim-discover'd dropping from the clouds: Thick swarm the brighter birds ! for nature's hand, At evening to the setting sun he turns That with a sportive vanity has deck'd
A mournful eye, and down his dying heart The plumy nations, there her gayest hues
Sinks helpless, while the wonted roar is up, Profusely pours. But if she bids them shine, And hiss continual through the tedious night. Array’l in all the beauteous beams of day, Yet, frugal still, she humbles them in song.
Nor stop the terror of these regions here. Nor envy we the gaudy robes they lent
Commission's demons oft, angels of wrath, Proud Montezuma's realm, whose legions cast Let loose the raging elements. Breath'd hot A boundless radiance waving on the sun,
From all the boundless furnace of the sky, While Philomel is ours; while in our shades,
And the wide-glittering waste of burning sand, Through the soft silence of the list’ning night, A suffocating wind the pilgrim smites The sober-suited songstress trills her lay.
With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil,
Son of the desert! ev'n the camel feels Lo! the green serpent, from his dark abode,
Shot through his wither'd heart the fiery blast. Which ev'n imagination fears to tread,
Or from the black-red ether, bursting broad, At noon forth issuing, gathers up his train
Sallies the sudden whirlwind. Straight the sands, In orbs immense : then darting out anew,
Commov'd around, in gath’ring eddies play; Seeks the refreshing fount, by which diffus’d
Nearer and nearer still they dark’ning come, He throws his folds: and while with threat'ning Till with the gen’ral all-involving storm And deathful jaws erect the monster curls (tongue
Swept up, the whole continuous wilds arise; His flaming crest, all other thirst appallid
And by their noonday fount dejected thrown, Or shiv'ring flies, or check'd, at distance stands,
Or sunk at night in sad disastrous sleep, Nor dares approach. But still more direful he,
Beneath descending hills the caravan The small close-lurking minister of fate,
Is buried deep. In Cairo's crowded streets Whose high-concocted venom through the veins Th’ impatient merchant, wond'ring, waits in vain; A rapid lightning darts, arresting swift
And Mecca saddens at the long delay. The vital current. Form’d to humble man,
But chief at sea, whose ev'ry flexile wave This child of vengeful nature! there sublim'd
Obeys the blast, the aerial tumult swells. To fearless lust of blood, the savage race
In the dread ocean, undulating wide Roam, licens'd by the shading hour of guilt
Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe, And foul misdeed, when the pure day has shut The circling Typhon, whirl'd from point to point, His sacred eye. The tyger, darting fierce,
Exhausting all the rage of all the sky, Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd;
And dire Ecnephia reign. Amid the heav'ns, The lively-shining leopard speckled o'er
Falsely serene, deep in a cloudy speck With many a spot, the beauty of the waste;
Compress'd, the mighty tempest brooding dwells, And, scorning all the taming arts of man,
Of no regard save to the skilful eye: The keen hyena, fellest of the fell.
Fiery and foul, the small prognostic hangs These rushing from th' inhospitable woods
Aloft, or on the promontory's brow Of Mauritania, or the tufted isles
Musters its force: a faint deceitful calm, That verdant rise amid the Lybian wild,
A flutt'ring gale, the demon sends before, Innum'rous glare around their shaggy king, To tempt the spreading sail : then down at once, Majestic, stalking o'er the printed sand;
Precipitant, descends a mingled mass And with imperious and repeated roars
Of roaring winds, and flame, and rushing floods. Demand their fated food. The fearful flocks
In wild amazement fix'd the sailor stands. Crowd near the guardian swain; the nobler herds, Art is too slow; by rapid fate oppress’d, Where round their lordly bull in rural ease
His broad-wing'd vessel drinks the whelming tide, They ruminating lie, with horror hear
Hid in the bosom of the black abyss.
With such mad seas the daring Gama fought In bashful coyness or in maiden pride,
In side-long glances from her downcast eye,
Or from her swelling soul in stifled sighs. Of gold: for then from ancient gloom emerg'd Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to bis vows, The rising world of trade: the genius then
He fram'd a melting lay to try her heart, Of navigation, that in hopeless sloth
And if an infant passion struggled there, Had slumber'd on the vast Atlantic deep
To call that passion forth. Thrice happy swain ! For idle ages, starting, heard at last
A lucky chance, that oft' decides the fate The Lusitanian Prince, who, heav'n-inspir'd, Of mighty monarchs, then decided thine : To love of useful glory rous'd mankind,
For, lo! conducted by the laughing loves, And in unbounded commerce mix'd the world. This cool retreat his Musidora sought:
Increasing still the terrors of these storms, Warm in her cheek the sultry season glow'd, His jaws horrific arm’d with threefold fate,
And rob’d in loose array, she came to bathe Here dwells the direful shark. Lur’d by the scent Her servent limbs in the refreshing stream. Of steaming crowds, of rank disease, and death, What shall he do? In sweet confusion lost, Behold! he rushing cuts the briny flood,
And dubious flutt’rings, he awhile remain’d: Swift as the gale can bear the ship along,
A pure ingenuous elegance of soul, And from the partners of that cruel trade
A delicate refinement, known to few, Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons,
Perplex'd his breast, and urg'd him to retire ; Demands his share of prey; demands themselves. But love forbade. Ye prudes in virtue! say, The stormy fates descend: one death involves Say, ye severest! what would you have done ? Tyrants and slaves; when straight their mangled Mean-time this fairer nymph than ever bless'd Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas [limbs Arcadian stream, with timid eye around With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal.
The banks surveying, stripp'd her beauteous limbs, When o'er this world, by equinoctial rains To taste the lucid coolness of the flood. Flooded immense, looks out the joyless sun,
Ah then! not Paris ou the piny top And draws the copious steam from swampy fens, Of Ida panted stronger, when aside Where putrefaction into life ferments,
The rival goddesses the veil divine And breathes destructive myriads; or from woods, Cast unconfin'd, and gave him all their charms, Impenetrable shades, recesses foul,
Than, Damon, thou, as from her snowy leg In vapours rank and blue corruption wrapp'd, And slender foot th’inverted silk she drew: Whose gloomy horrors yet no desperate foot
As the soft touch dissolv'd the virgin zone, Has ever dar'd to pierce; then, wasteful, forth And through the parting robe the alternate breast, Walks the dire pow'r of pestilent disease.
With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze A thousand hideous fiends her course attend, In full luxuriance rose. But, desp'rate youth ! Sick nature blasting, and to heartless woe
How durst thou risk the soul-distracting view, And feeble desolation casting down
As from her naked limbs, of glowing white, The tow'ring hopes and all the pride of man; Harmonious swell'd by nature's finest hand, Such as of late at Carthagena quench'd
In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn, The British fire. You, gallant Vernon ! saw And fair-expos'd she stood, shrunk from herself, The miserable scene; you, pitying, saw
With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breeze To infant-weakness sunk the warrior's arm;
Alarm’d, and starting like the fearful fawn?
Flushing anew, a mellow lustre shed:
Fresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows. Silent to ask whom fate would next demand.
While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the wave
That half-embraced her in a humid veil,
Rising again, the latent Damon drew Where winded into pleasing solitudes
Such madd’ning draughts of beauty to the soul, Runs out the rambling dale, young Damon sat, As for awhile o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thought Pensive, and pierc'd with love's delightful pangs: With luxury too daring. Check'd at last There to the stream that down the distant rocks By love's respectful modesty, he deem'd Hoarse murm'ring fell, and plaintive breeze that The theft profane, if aught profane to love Among the bending willows, falsely he [play'd Can e'er be deem'd; and struggling from the shade, Of Musidora's cruelty complain’d.
With headlong hurry fled; but first these lines, She felt his flame; but deep within her breast, Trac'd by his ready pencil on the bank,
DAMON AND MUSIDORA.
DESCRIPTION OF A DRINKING SCENE.
With trembling hand he threw. “Bathe on, my fair! Gives all his swift aerial soul to flight.
Against the breeze he darts, that way the more Of faithful love. I go to guard thy haunt,
To leave the less'ning murd'rous cry behind : To keep from thy recess each vagrant fool,
Deception short! though fleeter than the winds And each licentious eye.” With wild surprise, Blown o'er the keen-air'd mountains by the north, As if to marble struck, devoid of sense,
He bursts the thickets, glances through the glades, A stupid moment motionless she stood:
And plunges deep into the wildest wood;
Th’inhuman rout, and from the shady depth
He wont to struggle, or his loves enjoy. Of mix'd emotions, hard to be describ’d,
Oft in the full-descending flood he tries Her sudden bosom seiz'd : shame void of guilt, To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides; The charming blush of innocence, esteem
Oft seeks the herd: the watch ful herd alarm'd, And admiration of her lover's flame,
With selfish care avoid a brother's woe. By modesty exalted; even a sense
What shall he do ? His once-so-vivid nerves, Of self-approving beauty stole across
So full of buoyant spirit, now no more Her busy thought. At length a tender calm Inspire the course, but fainting breathless toil, Hush'd by degrees the tumult of her soul,
Sick, seizes on his heart: he stands at bay, And on the spreading beech, that o'er the stream And puts his last weak refuge in despair. Incumbent hung, she with the sylvan pen
The big round tears run down his dappled face; Of rural lovers this confession carv'd,
He groans in anguish, while the growling pack, Which soon her Damon kiss'd with weeping joy: Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest, “ Dear youth! sole judge of what these verses mean, And mark his beauteous chequer'd sides with gore. By fortune too much favour’d, but by love, Alas! not favour'd less, be still, as now, Discreet: the time may come you need not fly.” But first the fuel'd chimney blazes wide;
The tankards foam; and the strong table groans
Beneath the smoking sirloin, stretch'd immense Poor is the triumph o'er the timid hare !
From side to side, in which with desp’rate knife Scar'd from the and now to some lone seat They deep incision make, and talk the while Retir'd: the rushy fen; the ragged furze
Of England's glory, ne'er to be defac'd
If stomach keen can intervals allow,
Relating all the glories of the chase. Concoctive; and the nodding sandy bank,
Then sated hunger bids his brother thirst Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain brook.
Produce the mighty bowl; the mighty bowl, Vain is her best precaution, though she sits
Swell’d high with fiery juice, steams lib'ral round Conceal'd with folded ears; unsleeping eyes,
A potent gale, delicious as the breath By nature rais'd to take th' horizon in;
Of Maia to the love-sick shepherdess, And head couch'd close betwixt her hairy feet, On violets diffus'd, while soft she hears In act to spring away. The scented dew
Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. Betrays her early labyrinth ; and deep,
Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn In scatter'd sullen op'nings, far behind,
Mature and perfect from his dark retreat
Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid
To cheat the thirsty moments, whist awhile
The sounding gammon; while romp-loving miss Mix'd in mad tumult and discordant joy!
Is haul'd about in gallantry robust.
HARE AND STAG HUNTING.
Nor sober shift is to the puking wretch
Unbounded o'er the world, and, mingling thick, Indulg'd apart; but earnest brimming bowls A formless gray confusion covers all. Lave ev'ry soul, the table floating round, And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot.
THE PLEASURES OF RETIREMENT. Thus as they swim in mutual swill, the talk,
Oh! knew he but his happiness, of men Vociferous at once from twenty tongues,
The happiest he, who, far from public rage, Reels fast from theme to theme; from horses, hounds, Deep in the vale with a choice few retir’d, To church or mistress, politics or ghost,
Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life. [gate In endless mazes intricate perplex'd.
What though the dome be wanting, whose proud Meantime with sudden interruption loud
Each morning vomits out the sneaking crowd Th’impatient catch bursts from the joyous heart; Of flatt'rers false, and in their turn abus'd? That moment touch'd is ev'ry kindred soul,
Vile intercourse! What though the glitt'ring robe, And, op'ning in a full-mouth'd cry of joy,
Of ev'ry hue reflected light can give, The laugh, the slap, the jocund curse, go round; Or floating loose, or stiff with massy gold; While from their slumbers shook, the kennellid The pride and gaze of fools ! oppress him not? hounds
What though from utmost land and sea purvey'd, Mix in the music of the day again.
For him each rarer tributary life As when the tempest, that has vex’d the deep Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps The dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls, With luxury and death? What though his bowl So, gradual, sinks their mirth. Their feeble tongues,
Flames not with costly juice, nor sunk in beds, Unable to take up the cumberous word,
Oft of gay care, he tosses out the night,
What though he koows not those fantastic joys Like the sun wading through the misty sky;
That still amuse the wanton, still deceive, Then sliding soft they drop. Confus'd above A face of pleasure, but a heart of pain, Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazetteers,
Their hollow moments undelighted all ? As if the table ev'n itself was drunk,
Sure peace is his ; a solid life, estrang'd Lie a wet broken scene; and wide below
To disappointment and fallacious hope : Is heap'd the social slaughter; where astride Rich in content, in nature's bounty rich, The lubber pow'r in filthy triumph sits
In herbs and fruits, whatever greens the spring, Slumb'rous, inclining still from side to side,
When heay'n descends in show'rs, or bends the And steeps them drench'd in potent sleep till morn. bough, Perhaps some doctor of tremendous paunch,
When summer reddens, and when autumn beams, Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink!
Or in the wintry glebe whatever lies Outlives them all, and from his bury'd flock
Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap, Retiring full of rumination sad,
These are not wanting ; nor the milky drove, Laments the weakness of these latter times.
Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale ;
Nor bleating mountains ; nor the chide of streams, MISTS IN AUTUMN.
And hum of bees, inviting sleep sincere Now, by the cool declining year condens'd, Into the guiltless breast beneath the shade, Descend the copious exhalations check'd
Or thrown at large amid the fragrant hay; As up the middle sky unseen they stole,
Nor aught besides of prospect, grove, or song, And roll the doubling fogs around the hill.
Dim grottoes, gleaming lakes, and fountains clear. No more the mountain, horrid, vast, sublime, Here, too, dwells simple truth, plain innocence, Who pours a sweep of rivers from his sides,
Unsully'd beauty, sound unbroken youth, And high between contending kingdoms rears
Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd, The rocky long division, fills the view
Health ever-blooming, upambitious toil,
Calm contemplation, and poetic ease.
Move not the man who, from the world escap'd,
To nature's voice attends, from month to month, Ev’n in the height of noon oppress’d the sun And day to day, through the revolving year; Sheds weak and blunt his wide-refracted ray, Admiring sees her in her ev'ry shape, Whence glaring oft with many a broaden'd orb Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart, He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth, Takes what she lib’ral gives, nor thinks of more. Seen through the turbid air, beyond the life He when young spring protrudes the bursting gems, Objects appear, and wilder'd o'er the waste
Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale The shepherd stalks gigantic: till at last
Into his freshen’d soul; her genial hours Wreath'd dun around in deeper circles still He full enjoys, and not a beauty blows, Successive closing, sits the gen’ral fog
And not an op'ning blossom breathes in vain.
A CHARACTER, PANEGYRIC, AND DESCRIPTION OF THE LEGION-CLUB. 1736.
As I stroll the city, oft I
Not a bow-shot from the college;
Half the globe from sense and knowledge: By the prudent architect,
Plac'd against the church direct, Making good thy grandame's jest, "Near the church"-you know the rest. Tell us, what the pile contains? Many a head that holds no brains. These demoniacs let me dub With the name of Legion-club. Such assemblies, you might swear, Meet when butchers bait a bear; Such a noise, and such haranguing, When a brother thief is hanging: Such a rout and such a rabble Run to hear Jack-pudding gabble; Such a crowd their ordure throws On a far less villain's nose.
Could I from the building's top
Yet should Swift endow the schools,
I allow the pile may stand. You perhaps will ask me, Why so? But it is with this proviso: Since the house is like to last, Let the royal grant be pass'd, That the club have right to dwell Each within his proper cell, With a passage left to creep in, And a hole above for peeping. Let them when they once get in, Sell the nation for a pin; While they sit a-picking straws, Let them rave at making laws; While they never hold their tongue, Let them dabble in their dung: Let them form a grand committee, How to plague and starve the city: Let them stare, and storm, and frown, When they see a clergy gown; Let them, ere they crack a louse, Call for th' orders of the house;
Let them, with their gosling quills, Scribble senseless heads of bills.
We may, while they strain their throats, Wipe our a―s with their votes.
Let Sir Tom, that rampant ass, Stuff his guts with flax and grass; But, before the priest he fleeces, Tear the bible all to pieces:
At the parsons, Tom, halloo, boy,
Come, assist me, Muse obedient!
See, the Muse unbars the gate! Hark, the monkeys, how they prate! All ye gods who rule the soul! Styx, through hell whose waters roll! Let me be allow'd to tell What I heard in yonder hell.
Near the door an entrance gapes, Crowded round with antic shapes, Poverty, and grief, and care, Causeless joy, and true despair; Discord, periwigg'd with snakes, See the dreadful strides she takes! By this odious crew beset, I began to rage and fret, And resolv'd to break their pates, Ere we enter'd at the gates; Had not Clio in the nick Whisper'd me," Lay down your stick." What, said I, is this the mad-house? These, she answer'd, are but shadows, Phantoms bodiless and vain, Empty visions of the brain.
In the porch Briareus stands,
But we mortals call him Carey.
Clio, who had been so wise