(64) RECOLLECTIONS OF FAR DISTANT SEASONS.
Ah why in Memory's magic lantern spell
Do sounds and scenes of childhood love to dwell
Why do her notes float o'er the muskie dale
At eventide with many a flowery tale?
How we in Spring's and Life's sweet April time
Were joyed to spoil the Daisy's earliest prime,
And rob the first pale primroses flowers we met,
Or pull their roots to carry home ond set;
How in our little gardens lov'd to note
The Robin's song, or Cuckoo's early throat
How when maturer Summer used le lead
To romp on haycocks in the grassy mead,
Or when, as now, ripe Autumn's sheaves were bound,
With hearts like feathers, we wonld dance around,
Nor less enjoy white Winter's Christmas toys,
Sports, games, and play, and fifty childish joys,
In every season count our pleasures o'er,
And feel as we on earth shall feel no more.
A PASTORAL OF THE FIRST AGE.
It was during an illness which confined the authour to the house in the year 1840 that this poem was written. Being unable to attend to his usual routine of scientific pursuits, in consequence of fever, he amused the tedious hours of convalescence with its composition :
The plan is very simple: it supposes Græcian philosophers as well as shepherds to have joined the wise men of the East in their pelgrimage to the stall of our Lord at Bethlehem; and the authour takes occasion from this circumstance to introduce a discussion on the merits of Christianity. After warm discussions, the pilgrims remain doubtful, and though they had offered their hymns of praise to the Virgin mother, yet not seeming convinced of the holy truth, Astræa descends in the form of Justice, and points to her course on Earth as affording proof of a moral Governour. During the piece, many and varied scenes are introduced which would occur in the natural progress of a pilgrimage through the life of a Christian, and in which the authour adopts the opinions of F. Guerrin du Rocher, in his Histoire des Tems Fabuleux. The whole has that emblematical air which pervades all the authour's poetical writings.
Palestine and particularly the Country round Bethlehem.
MENALCAS,
DAMOETAS,
PALAEMON,
PYRRHO,
PHILOSTRATUS,
LUCIANUS,
MELIBOEUS,
BACCHUS,
a young shepherd,
a aged shepherd,
a shepherd and traveller.
philosophers ofdifferent creeds and systems
a satyrical guest.
an old herdsman.
and his comrades, in Chorus.
VENUS and the GRACES, dancing, form the Ballet.
Numerous attendants, besides herds, flocks dogs, etc., make part of the scenery.
MARY, appears with the INFANT and is saluted by nine several Sages each invoking his favorite Muse. To wit:
CLIO, or the Song of Glad Tidings,
THALIA, or the Salutation and Gifts,
MELPOMENE, or the complaint and Consolation,
EUTERPE, or the Power of Sacred Song,
CALLIOPE, or Prophecy of Martyrdom,
ERATO, or Prophecy of Church Music,
POLYHYMNIA, or Traditions Resolved,
TERPSYCHORE, or Prayer and Penance,
URANIA, or Eucharistic Consummation.
ASTRÆEA, at length, descends and speaks the Epilogue.
I who, e'er while, Arcadian groves among,
Of shepherds' loves, in rustic accents, sung-
Who to no higher themes had tun'd my lays,
Than Corin's worth, or Cloe's homely praise;
Nor took, in rural ditty, higher aim
Than to perpetuate Sabina's fame,
Or laud Neæra's golden curling locks,
Or the white fleeces of Palæmon's flocks,
Or Phryne's eyes, so languishing and sweet,
Or Libertina's lightly tripping feet, *
Or laid, perhaps, in melancholy mood,
By smooth Meander's softly babbling flood,
Have staid the Naids on the banks, that rove
To hear the plaint of Arethusa's love;
And in my turn have told the mournful tale
How Gallus his Lycoris did bewail -
Now to still loftier rhymes the Muse invite,
With lips more chasten'd and a bolder flight,
To chant the praise of the Eternal Pan,
Today come down from Heaven to dwell with man.
Propertus has it-Et canit, ut soleant molliter ire pedes.
Not all are pleased to wend the peaceful way,
Through flowery dales, and breathe the air of day,
Midst blossom'd bushes, or where darkening trees
Fan their green leaves to Zephyr's musky breeze,
Content to dwell the greenwood shades among,
Cheer'd by Luscinia's strains, or Procne's song:
For higher minds a higher theme demand,
And purer notes touch'd by an abler hand.
To please you then, I quit the oaks and rills,
And now to graver stops have touch'd the quills;
Assist me then, sweet Clio, to unfold
The mystic legends that were read of old,
By elder bards at history's first dawn,
When erst the young world suck'd the breath of morn,
Whose prophecies relate to later days.
So help me to extol our Master's praise;
And then, should I his approbation gain,
Yours is the second boon I would obtain :
And if I give ye entertainment due,
I am rewarded by amusing you;
But if perchance I might not thus succeed,
And hang my hopes upon a broken reed,
My vanquish'd Muse shall now retreat with sorrow,
And you shall hear a sweeter strain tomorrow.
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