Whom Fancy chills with visionary fears, Or bends to servile tameness with conceits Of shame, of evil, or of base defect, Fantastic and delusive. Here the slave Who droops abash'd when sullen Pomp surveys His humbler habit; here the trembling wretch Unnerv'd and struck with Terror's icy bolts, Spent in weak wailings, drown'd in shameful tears, At every dream of danger; here subdued By frontless Laughter, and the hardy scorn Of old, unfeeling Vice, the abject soul, Who blushing half resigns the candid praise Of Temperance and Honor; half disowns A freeman's hatred of tyrannic pride; And hears with sickly smiles the venal mouth With foulest license mock the patriot's name.
Last of the motley bands on whom the power Of gay Derision bends her hostile aim, Is that where shameful Ignorance presides. Beneath her sordid banners, lo! they march, Like blind and lame. Whate'er their doubtful hands Attempt, Confusion straight appears behind, And troubles all the work. Through many a maze, Perplex'd they struggle, changing every path, O'erturning every purpose; then at last
Sit down dismay'd, and leave the entangled scene For Scorn to sport with. Such then is the abode Of Folly in the mind; and such the shapes In which she governs her obsequious train.
Through every scene of ridicule in things To lead the tenor of my devious lay; Through every swift occasion, which the hand Of Laughter points at, when the mirthful sting Distends her sallying nerves and chokes her tongue; What were it but to count each crystal drop Which Morning's dewy fingers on the blooms Of May distil? Suffice it to have said, Where'er the power of Ridicule displays Her quaint-ey'd visage, some incongruous form, Some stubborn dissonance of things combin'd, Strikes on the quick observer : whether Pomp, Or Praise, or Beauty, mix their partial claim Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds, Where foul deformity, are wont to dwell; Or whether these with violation loth'd, Invade resplendent Pomp's imperious mien, The charms of Beauty, or the boast of Praise. Ask we for what fair end, the Almighty Sire In mortal bosoms wakes this gay contempt, These grateful stings of laughter, from disgust Educing pleasure? Wherefore, but to aid The tardy steps of Reason, and at once By this prompt impulse urge us to depress The giddy aims of Folly? Though the light Of Truth, slow dawning on the inquiring mind, At length unfolds, through many a subtle tie, How these uncouth disorders end at last In public evil! yet benignant Heaven, Conscious how dim the dawn of Truth appears To thousands; conscious what a scanty pause From labors and from care, the wider lot Of humble life affords for studious thought To scan the maze of Nature; therefore stamp'd The giaring scenes with characters of scorn, As broad as obvious, to the passing clown, As to the letter'd sage's curious eye.
Such are the various aspects of the mindSome heavenly genius, whose unclouded thoughts Attain that secret harmony which blends The ethereal spirit with its mould of clay;
O! teach me to reveal the graceful charm That searchless Nature o'er the sense of man Diffuses, to behold, in lifeless things, The inexpressive semblance of himself, Of thought and passion. Mark the sable woods That shade sublime yon mountain's nodding brow; With what religious awe the solemn scene Commands your steps! as if the reverend form Of Minos or of Numa should forsake The Elysian seats, and down the embowering glade Move to your pausing eye! Behold the expanse Of yon gay landscape, where the silver clouds Flit o'er the heavens before the sprightly breeze: Now their grey cincture skirts the doubtful Sun; Now streams of splendor, through their opening veil Effulgent, sweep from off the gilded lawn The aërial shadows; on the curling brook, And on the shady margin's quivering leaves With quickest lustre glancing; while you view The prospect, say, within your cheerful breast Plays not the lively sense of winning mirth With clouds and sun-shine chequer'd, while the round Of social converse, to the inspiring tongue Of some gay nymph amid her subject train, Moves all obsequious? Whence is this effect, This kindred power of such discordant things? Or flows their semblance from that mystic tone To which the new-born mind's harmonious powers At first were strung? Or rather from the links Which artful custom twines around her frame? For when the different images of things, By chance combin'd, have struck the attentive soul With deeper impulse, or, connected long, Have drawn her frequent eye; howe'er distinct The external scenes, yet oft the ideas gain From that conjunction an eternal tie, And sympathy unbroken. Let the mind Recall one partner of the various league, Immediate, lo! the firm confederates rise, And each his former station straight resumes. One movement governs the consenting throng, And all at once with rosy pleasures shine, Or all are sadden'd with the glooms of care. "Twas thus, if ancient Fame the truth unfold, Two faithful needles, from the informing touch Of the same parent-stone, together drew
Its mystic virtue, and at first conspir'd With fatal impulse quivering to the Pole: Then, though disjoin'd by kingdoms, though the main Roll'd its broad surge betwixt, and different stars Beheld their wakeful motions, yet preserv'd The former friendship, and remember'd still The alliance of their birth: whate'er the line Which once possess'd, nor pause, nor quiet knew The sure associate, ere with trembling speed He found its path, and fix'd unerring there. Such is the secret union, when we feel A song, a flower, a name, at once restore Those long-connected scenes where first they mov'd The attention: backward through her mazy walks Guiding the wanton Fancy to her scope, To temples, courts, or fields; with all the band Of painted forms, of passions and designs Attendant: whence, if pleasing in itself, The prospect from that sweet accession gains Redoubled influence o'er the listening mind. By these mysterious ties the busy power Of Memory her ideal train preserves Entire; or when they would elude her watch, Reclaims their fleeting footsteps from the waste
Before the urtes in Their argest "auce- AP YAZ Midded looms Ealing weetness, 'hat he Kuba ee Mav aute u wil, from heir elected stois To work ber bucet ond. Er sot be inse Of living axer a Summer: 300GL de sua. Refects he ørtert ig shade, und strenght Geavens. With airer embiance; int he sesapir i goudi More faithful tears the gravers ively race, Than je vhose urth the uster wer it Art Penitiers Dewi, and from us genial far Led Induence to the vects of låner kind; Than a attemper 1 csom must presere The war of Nature. There alone mehang 1, Her form remains. The name vaiks in Mav There wreathe perennial sweets: the remuling chord Resounds for ever in the istmeted ear. Melodions and the virgin a radiant eye, Supertor to disease, to gret, and lime, Shines with in ating nstre. Tius at ength Endow d with atl hat Nature can bestow, The child of Fanez atì n silence bends O'er these mixt treasures of us pregnant breast, With ennscions orde. From them he of resolves To frame ne knows not what excelling things: And win he knows not what sublime rewardi Of praise and wonder. By degrees, the mind Feels her young nerves dilate: the plastic powers Labor for action: blind emotions heave His bosom, and with loveliest frenzy caught, From Earth to Heaven he mils his daring eye, From Heaven to Earth. Anon ten thousand shapes. Like metres moping to the wizard's call, F.it sw it before him. From the womb of Earth. From Ocean's bed, they come; the eternal Heavens Disclose their splendors, and the dark Abyss Pours ant her births unknown. With fixed gaze He marks the rising phantoms. Now compares Their different forms; now blends them, now Vides
Enlarges, and extenuates by tarms; Opposes, ranges in fantastic bands,
And infinitely varies. Hither now,
Now thither fluctuates is inconstant aim,
Of ateng ni, vita saya rusts of ce 11. VICES TO Le eaming Sun Coletta is arge fizetve, straight Le Heavens With equal fames resent in Ather jami The maciant visage Zarsia sanus it gaze.
Aurali, and on he oma of Ganges toubis Le show-restei seer. Mithra's name. To vich Le me i he south stail bum. To Vines us varied orisons isceni.
Such various iss he well-an i heart enjoys, Favori of Heaven wille, yung i in sordid are The infeeling volcar noess the boon tivine: And arsh Austerity, from Vause rebuke Young Love and smiling Wonder shrink away Abash'i, and mill of heart, with anger towns Condemns the air enchantment. On my strain. Perhaps even now, some at fastidious judge Casts a Esdainful eve. and calls my oil. And calls the love and beauty which I sing. The dream of tolly. Thon, grave censor say Is Beauty hen a dream, because he pooms Cf inilness hang oo heavy in thy sense, To let her shine upon 'nee' So the man Whose ere de er open i on the light of Heaven. Might smile with searn while moturi vision teils Of the gay-enior i mdiance dushing bright O'er ail creation. From the wise be far Such gross inhailow i pride, nor needs my sang Descend so low; but miner now untold. If human thought could reach, or wonts antid. By what mysterious faone of the mind, The deep-teit joys and harmony of sound Result from airy monon; and from shape The lovely phantoms of sublime and fur. di- By what fine nes hat God connected things When present in the mind, which in themselves Have no connexion! Sure the rising Sun O'er the cerulean convex of the sea. With equal brightness and with equal warmth. Might roll his fiery orb, nor yet the soul
With endless choice perplex'd. At length his plan Thus feel her frame expanded, and her powers
Begins to open. Locut order dawns;
And as from Chars old the jarring seeds Of Nature at the voice divine repair'd Each to its place, till rosy Earth unveil'd Her fragrant bosom, and the joyful Son Sprang up the bine serene; by swift degrees Thus disentangled, his entire design Emerges. Colors mingle, features join: And lines converge: the fainter parts retire; The fairer eminent in light advance: And every image on its neighbor smiles. A while he stands, and with a father's joy Contemplates. Then with Promethean art, Into its proper vehicle he breathes The fair conception; which, embodied thus, And permanent, becomes to eyes or ears An object ascertain'd; while thus inform'd, The various organs of his mimic skill, The consonance of sounds, the featur'd rock, The shadowy picture and impassion'd verse, Beyond their proper powers attract the soul By that expressive semblance, while in sight Of Nature's great original we scan The lively child of Art; while line by line,
Exuiting in the splendor she benoids:
Like a young conqueror moving through the pomy Of some triumphal day. When join'd at eve, Soft murmuring streams and gales of gentiest brea Melodious Philomeia's wakeful strain Attemper, could not man's discerning ear Through all its bones the sympathy pursue; Nor yet this breath divine of nameless joy Steal through his veins, and fan the awaken'd hear Md as the breeze, yet rapturous as the song!
But were not Nature still endow'd at large With all which life requires, though unadorn'd With such enchantment: wherefore then her form So exquisitely fair! her breath perfim'd With such ethereal sweetness! whence her voice Inform'd at will to mise or to repress
The impassion'd soul! and whence the robes of ligh Which thus invest her with more lovely poup Than fancy can describe! Whence but from thee, O source divine of ever-flowing love, And thy unmeasur'd goodness? Not content With every food of life to nourish man, By kind illusions of the wondering sense Thou mak'st all nature beauty to his eye,
Or music to his ear: well-pleas'd he scans The goodly prospect; and with inward smiles Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain; Beholds the azure canopy of Heaven, And living lamps that over-arch his head With more than regal splendor; bends his ears To the full choir of water, air, and earth; Nor heeds the pleasing error of his thought, Nor doubts the painted green or azure arch, Nor questions more the music's mingling sounds Than space, or motion, or eternal time; So sweet he feels their influence to attract The fixed soul; to brighten the dull glooms Of care, and make the destin'd road of life Delightful to his feet. So fables tell,
The adventurous hero, bound on hard exploits, Beholds with glad surprise, by secret spells Of some kind sage, the patron of his toils, A visionary paradise disclos'd
Amid the dubious wild with streams, and shades, And airy songs, the enchanted landscape smiles, Cheers his long labors, and renews his frame.
What then is taste, but these internal powers Active, and strong, and feelingly alive To each fine impulse? a discerning sense Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust From things deform'd, or disarrang'd, or gross In species? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold, Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow; But God alone when first his active hand Imprints the secret bias of the soul. He, mighty parent! wise and just in all, Free as the vital breeze or light of Heaven, Reveals the charms of Nature. Ask the swain Who journeys homeward from a summer day's Long labor, why, forgetful of his toils And due repose, he loiters to behold
The sun-shine gleaming as through amber clouds, O'er all the western sky; full soon, I ween, His rude expression and untutor'd airs, Beyond the power of language, will unfold The form of beauty smiling at his heart,
How lovely! how commanding! But though Heaven In every breast hath sown these early seeds Of love and admiration, yet in vain, Without fair Culture's kind parental aid, Without enlivening suns, and genial showers, And shelter from the blast, in vain we hope The tender plant should rear its blooming head, Or yield the harvest promis'd in its spring. Nor yet will every soil with equal stores Repay the tiller's labor; or attend His will, obsequious, whether to produce The olive or the laurel. Different minds Incline to different objects: one pursues The vast alone, the wonderful, the wild; Another sighs for harmony, and grace, And gentlest beauty. Hence when lightning fires The arch of Heaven, and thunders rock the ground, When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air, And Ocean, groaning from his lowest bed, Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky; Amid the mighty uproar, while below The nations tremble, Shakspeare looks abroad From some high cliff, superior, and enjoys The elemental war. But Waller longs, All on the margin of some flowery stream, To spread his careless limbs amid the cool Of plantain shades, and to the listening deer The tale of slighted vows and love's disdain Resound soft-warbling all the livelong day:
Consenting Zephyr sighs; the weeping rill Joins in his plaint, melodious; mute the groves; And hill and dale with all their echoes mourn. Such and so various are the tastes of men.
Oh! blest of Heaven, whom not the languid songs Of Luxury, the syren! not the bribes
Of sordid Wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils
Of pageant Homer, can seduce to leave
Those ever-blooming sweets, which from the store Of Nature fair Imagination culls
To charm the enliven'd soul! What though not a1. Of mortal offspring can attain the heights Of envied life; though only few possess Patrician treasures or imperial state; Yet Nature's care, to all her children just, With richer treasures and an ampler state, Endows at large whatever happy man Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp, The rural honors his. Whate'er adorns The princely dome, the column and the arch, The breathing marbles and the sculptur'd gold, Beyond the proud possessor's narrow claim, His tuneful breast enjoys. For him, the spring Distils her dews, and from the silken gem Its lucid leaves unfolds: for him, the hand Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wir gs And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes The setting Sun's effulgence, not a strain From all the tenants of the warbling shade Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Fresh pleasure, unreprov'd. Nor thence partakes Fresh pleasure only for the attentive mind, By this harmonious action on her powers, Becomes herself harmonious: wont so oft In outward things to meditate the charm Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home To find a kindred order, to exert Within herself this elegance of love, This fair inspir'd delight: her temper'd powers Refine at length, and every passion wears A chaster, milder, more attractive mien. But if to ampler prospects, if to gaze On Nature's form, where, negligent of all These lesser graces, she assumes the port Of that eternal majesty that weigh'd
The world's foundations, if to these the mind Exalts her daring eye; then mightier far Will be the change, and nobler. Would the forms Of servile custom cramp her generous powers? Would sordid policies, the barbarous growth Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear? Lo! she appeals to Nature, to the winds And rolling waves, the Sun's unwearied course, The elements and seasons: all declare For what the eternal Maker has ordain'd The powers of man: we feel within ourselves His energy divine: he tells the heart, He meant, he made us to behold and love What he beholds and loves, the general orb Of life and being; to be great like him, Beneficent and active. Thus the men Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himsel! Hold converse; grow familiar, day by day, With his conceptions, act upon his plan; And form to his, the relish of their souls. 3 E 2
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