Forbear, ye bells, that languid strain! Take the last look, and drop the parting tear! Before my view dire phantoms rise, The plagues of hapless humankind! Pale Fear, who unpursu'd still flies, And starts, and turns, and looks behind; Remorse, whose own indignant aim Deforms with useless wounds her frame; Despair, whose tongue no speech will deign, Whose ghastly brow looks dark disdain, And now the echoing dale along And varied warbling of the deep-ton'd horn. Their influence calms the soften'd soul, No famine fell, nor dire disease, And bends from steep rocks o'er the foaming main. Nor war's infernal unrelenting strife. And Rage, whose bosom inly burns, While Reason's call he scorns to hear; And Jealousy, who ruthless turns From suppliant Beauty's pray'r and tear; Revenge, whose thoughts tumultuous roll To seek the poniard or the bowl; And Phrensy, wildly passing by, With her chain'd arm and starting eye, And voice that with loud curses rends the sky! Ambition, here, to heights of pow'r His course with daring step pursues, Though Danger's frown against him lour, Though Guilt his path with blood bestrews; There Avarice grasps his useless store, Though Misery's plaints his aid implore, Though he her ruin'd cottage nigh, Beholds her famish'd infants lie, And hears their faint, their last expiring cry! Ye dreadful band! O spare, O spare! Sure man bad better ne'er been made! Say, will Religion clear this glootn, The rest, they say, severe decrees ordain To realms of endless night, and everlasting pain'! ODE XXVI. THE PLEASANT EVENING. DELIGHTFUL looks this clear, calm sky, With Cynthia's orb on high! Delightful looks this smooth green ground, With shadows cast from cots around: Quick-twinkling lustre decks the tide; And cheerful radiance gently falls On that white town, and castle walls, That crown the spacious river's further side. And now along the echoing hills 1 The author does not give these as his own sentiments, but merely such as the gloomy moment described might naturally suggest. That the above dreadful idea is adopted by a large body of Christians, is sufficient to authorize its admission into a poem professing to paint the dark side of things. For these, behold a heav'nly band, Bless'd vision! O for ever stay! And some wise unknown purpose may fulfil. ODE XXVII. AFTER READing akensidE'S POEMS. To Fancy's view what visions rise, What mean those crystal rocks serene, But, oh! what darkness intervenes ! And she who leans that column nigh, Whose veil essays her blush to hide, Whose brow such laugh unmeaning wears, What grisly churl ', what harlot bold2, THE MEXICAN PROPHECY. AN ODE. De Solis, in his History of the Conquest of Mexico, informs us, that, on the approach of Cortez to the neighbourhood of that city, the emperor Motezuma sent a number of magicians to attempt the destruction of the Spanish army. As the sorcerers were practising their incantations, a demon appeared to them in the form of their idol Tlcatlepuca, and foretold the fall of the Mexican empire. On this legend is founded the following poem. The conquest of Mexico was undertaken from motives of avarice, and accompanied with circumstances of cruelty; but it produced the subversion of a tyrannical government, and the abolition of a detestable religion of horrid rites and human sacrifices. FROM Cholula's hostile plain 4, Shone their phalanx broad and deep; Avarice. * Luxury. 3 Ruin. 6 Thick the gleaming spears appear'd, Rear'd their shining roofs in air; Glitter'd midst the glassy tide, On the exulting hero strode, "Minister supreme of ill, Ordaz heard, Velasquez heardSwift their falchions' blaze appear'd; Alvarado rushing near, Furious rais'd his glitt'ring spear; ❝ Tenustitan, otherwise Tenuchtitlan, the ancient name of the lake of Mexico. 7 The Spanish historians assert, that the walls and houses of the Indian cities were composed of a peculiar kind of glittering stone or plaster, which at a distance resembled silver. 8 The Indians had blocked up the usual road to Mexico, and opened another broader, and smooth at the entrance, but which led among rocks and precipices, where they had placed parties in am 4 Cholula was a large city, not far distant from Mexico. The inhabitants were in league with the Mexicans; and after professing friendship for the bush. Cortes discovered the stratagem, and orderSpaniards, endeavoured to surprise and destroyed his troops to remove the obstructions. Being asked by the Mexican ambassadors the reason of them. 5 The device on Cortes's standard was the sign of this procedure, he replied, that the Spaniards always the cross. Vide de Solis. chose to encounter difficulties. Calm, Olmedo mark'd the scene", Calm he mark'd, and stepp'd between: "Cease the strife! alas, 't is vain! Bid the captive youths expire "'; 9 Bartholeme de Olmedo, chaplain to Cortes: he seems to have been a man of enlarged ideas, much prudence, moderation, and humanity. 10 Motezuma, who was resident in the Spanish quarters when they were attacked by the Mexicans, proposed showing himself to the people, in order to appease the tumult. At his first appearance he was regarded with veneration, which was soon exchanged for rage, to the effects whereof he fell a victim. 11 Cortes, in his retreat from Mexico, after the death of Motezuma, was followed and surrounded by the whole collective force of the empire, in the plains of Otumba. After repelling the attacks of his enemies on every side, with indefatigable valour, he found himself overpowered by numbers; when, making one desperate effort, with a few select friends, he seized the imperial standard, killed the general, and routed the army. Wake the sacred trumpet's breath, Lo! the dauntless band return, "What are those that round thy shore Lanch thy troubled waters o'er? Swift canoes that from the fight Aid their vanquish'd monarch's flight; "Cease your boast, O stranger band, Ceas'd the voice with dreadful sounds, Their course the Iberians downward bore; to their idols a number of Spaniards, whom they had taken prisoners, and whose cries and groans were distinctly heard in the Spanish camp, exciting sentiments of horrour and revenge in their surviving companions. 13 The above author observes, that the sacred trumpet of the Mexicans was so called, because it was not permitted to any but the priests to sound it; and that only when they denounced war, and animated the people on the part of their gods. 14 When the Spaniards had forced their way to the centre of Mexico, Guatimozin, the reigning emperor, endeavoured to escape in his canoes across the lake; but was pursued and taken prisoner by Garcia de Holguin, captain of one of the Spanish brigantines. Is The Otomies were a fierce, savage nation, never thoroughly subdued by the Mexicans. Tlascala was a powerful neighbouring republic, the rival of Mexico. 16 Alluding to the dissentions which ensued among " De Solis relates, that the Mexicans sacrificed the Spaniards after the conquest of America. EPISTLES. EPISTLE 1. THE GARDEN. TO A FRIEND. FROM Whitby's rocks steep rising o'er the main, Of winding walks, smooth lawns, and shady greens: "Where, midst thick oaks, the subterraneous ores, And silvery pearls, spread o'er the roofs on high, "Now where the airy octagon ascends, Alas, my friend, how strangely men mistake, Who guess what others most their pleasure make! These garden scenes, which Fashion o'er our plains Spreads round the villas of our wealthy swains, Though Envy grudge, or Friendship wish to share, They claim but little of their owners' care. For me, my groves not oft my steps invite, And far less oft they fail to offend my sight: In vain the senna waves its glossy gold, In vain the cistus' spotted flow'rs unfold, In vain the acacia's snowy bloom depends, In vain the sumach's scarlet spike ascends, In vain the woodbine's spicy tufts disclose, And green slopes redden with the shedding rose: These neat-shorn hawthorns useless verdant bound, This long straight walk, that pool's unmeaning round, [trees, These short-curv'd paths that twist beneath the Disgust the eye, and make the whole displease. "No scene like this," I say, "did Nature raise, Brown's fancy form, or Walpole's ' judgment praise; No prototype for this did I survey In Woollett's landscapes, or in Mason's lay." See Mr. Walpole's ingenious History of modern Taste in Gardening, at the end of the fourth volume of his Anecdotes of Painting. 2 The above-named excellent artist, several years ago, drew and engraved a number of beautiful views in some of our most celebrated modern gardens. But might thy genius, friend, an Eden frame, Now edg'd with sunny banks for summer flow'rs; These rampant elms, those hazels branching wide, But Discontent alone, thou 'It say, complains Thus oft through Maylan's shady lane I stray, Trace Rushgreen's paths, or Postwood's winding Thus oft to Eastfield's airy height I haste; [way; (All well-known spots thy feet have frequent trac'd!) While Memory, as my sight around I cast, Suggests the pleasing thought of moments past; Or Hope, amid the future, forms again The dream of bliss Experience broke in vain. EPISTLE II. WINTER AMUSEMENTS IN THE COUNTRY. TO A FRIEND IN LONDON. WHILE thee, my friend, the city's scenes detain,The cheerful scenes where Trade and Pleasure reign; Where glittering shops their varied stores display, And passing thousands crowd the public way; 3 There is a custom, frequent in many parts of England, of calling the harvest-men to and from Where Painting's forms and Music's sounds delight, And bright spruce firs like pyramids ascend, Ev'n now the eye beholds a flow'ry scene; While strip'd geranium shows its tufts of red, And loose on heads of old sere pollards laid; Where hungry vermin strive to climb in vain ; work by the sound of a horn. This practice, as well as that of the harvest-shouting, seems much on the decline. The latter could boast its origin from high antiquity, as appears from that beautiful stroke of eastern poetry, Isaiah, chap. xvi.: "I will water thee with my tears, O Heshbon and Elealeh; for the shouting for thy summer fruits, and for thy harvest, is fallen!" 4 That well-known beautiful flowering evergreen, commonly called laurustinus. Thence up the lane, romantic woods among, Beneath old oaks with ivy overhung, (O'er their rough trunks the hairy stalks entwine, And on their arms the sable berries shine:) Here oft the sight, on banks bestrewn with leaves, The early primrose' opening bud perceives; And oft steep dells or ragged cliffs unfold The prickly furze with bloom of brightest gold; Here oft the red-breast hops along the way, And midst grey moss explores his insect prey; Or the green woodspite flies with outcry shrill, And delves the sere bough with his sounding bill; Or the rous'd hare starts rustling from the brake, And gaudy jays incessant clamour make; Or echoing hills return from stubbles nigh The sportsman's gun, and spaniel's yelping cry. And now the covert ends in open ground, That spreads wide views beneath us all around; There turbid waters, edg'd with yellow reeds, Roll through the russet herd-forsaken meads; There from the meads th' enclosures sloping rise, And, midst th' enclosures, dusky woodland lies; While pointed spires and curling smokes, between, Mark towns, and vills, and cottages unseen. And now,-for now the breeze and noontide ray Clear the last remnants of the mist away,Far, far o'er all extends the aching eye, Where azure mountains mingle with the sky: To these the curious optic tube applied Reveals each object distance else would hide; Their seats or homesteads, plac'd in pleasant shades, Show their white walls and windows through the glades; There rears the hamlet church its hoary tow'r; (The clock's bright index points the passing hour) There green-rob'd huntsmen o'er the sunny lawn Lead home their beagles from the chase withdrawn, And ploughs slow-moving turn the broad champaign, And on steep summits feed the fleecy train. But wint'ry months few days like these supply, To sheltering rooms th' unwilling step detain; While History's hand her sanguine record brings, With woes of nations fraught, and crimes of kings; Plague thins the street, and Famine blasts the plain, War wields his sword, Oppression binds his chain; Curiosity pursues the unfolding tale, Which Reason blames, and Pity's tears bewail. While Fancy's pow'rs th' eventful novel frame, And Virtue's care directs its constant aim; As Fiction's pen domestic life pourtrays, Its hopes, and fears, and joys, and griefs displays; By Grandison's or Clinton's story mov'd, We read delighted, and we rise improv❜d. Then with bold voyagers our thought explores Vast tracts of ocean and untrodden shores; Now views rude climes, where ice-rocks drear aspire, Or red volcanos shoot their streams of fire: 5 The green woodpecker. Vide Pennant's British Zoology, folio, p. 78. 6 Vide The Fool of Quality, a well-known novel, by Mr. Henry Brooke, author of Gustavus Vasa, &c. |