Page images
PDF
EPUB

405

fay 465 [vey? To the chafte Queen, fhall we the news conOr hears fhe, and with bleffings leads the day! Difmifs that care, for to the royal bride, Already is it known (the king reply'd, And traight refum'd his feat) while round him bows

He faints, he finks, with mighty joys opprefs'd: | Who knows thy bless'd, thy wish'd return! Oh,
Ulyffes clafps him to his eager breaft.
Soon as returning life regains its feat,
And his breath lengthens, and his pulfes beat;
Yes, I believe (he cries) almighty Jove!
Heaven rules us yet, and Gods there are above.
"Tis fo-the fuitors for their wrongs have paid
But what fhall guard us, if the town invade? 412
If, while the news through every city flies,
All Ithaca and Cephalenia rife?

415

420

425

To this Ulyffes: As the Gods fhall pleafe
Be all the reft; and fet thy foul at ease.
Hafte to the cottage by this orchard fide,
And take the banquet which our cares provide:
There wait thy faithful band of rural friends,
And there the young Telemachus attends.
Thus having faid, they trac'd the garden o'er,
And ftooping enter'd at a lowly docr.
The 'fwains and young Telemachus they found,
The victim portion'd, and the goblet crown'd.
The hoary king, his old Scicilian maid
Perfum'd and wash'd, and gorgeously array'd.
Pallas attending gives his frame to shine
With awful port, and majesty divine;
His gazing fon admires the godlike grace,
And air celeftial dawning o'er his face,
What God, he cry'd, my father's form improves?
How high he treads, and how enlarg'd he moves!
Oh! would to all the deathlefs Powers on high,
Pallas and Jove, and him who gilds the sky!
(Reply'd the king elated with his praise)
My ftrength were ftill, as once in better days:
When the bold Cephalens the leaguer form'd,
And proud Nericus trembled as I ftorm'd.
Such were I now, not abfent from your deed
When the laft fun beheld the fuiters bleed,
This arm had aided yours; this hand beitrown
Our floors with death, and pufh'd the flaughter

430

435

440

Nor had the fire been feparate from the fon.
They commun'd thus; while homeward bent
their way

449

The fwains, fatigu'd with labours of the day; 445
Dolius the firft, the venerable man;
And next his fons, a long fucceeding train.
For due refection to the bower they came,
Call'd by the careful old Sicilian dame,
Who nurs'd the children, and now tends the fire;
They fee their lord, they gaze, and they admire.
On chairs and beds in order feated round,
They are the gladfome board; the roofs re-
found.

While thus Ulyffes to his ancient friend:
"Forhear your wonder, and the feaft attend; 455
"The rites have waited long." The chie. com-

mands

[blocks in formation]

469

Each faithful youth, and breathes out ardent

VOWS:

[blocks in formation]

495

Or facfed Elis, to procure fupplies;
Arife (or ye for ever fall) arife!
Shame to this age, and all that fall fucceed!
If unreveng'd your fons and brothers bleed.
Prove that we live, by vengeance on his head, 500
Or fink at once forgotten with the dead.

Here ceas'd he, but indignant tears let fall Spoke when he ccas'd: dumb forrow touch'd them all.

When from the palace to the wondering throng
Sage Mcdon came, and Phemius came along ses
(Reftlefs and early fleep's foft bands they broke);
And Meden firit th' affembled chiefs befpoke:

510

Hear me, ye peers and elders of the land,
Who deem this aft the work of mortal hand;
As o'er the heaps of death Ulyffes ftrode,
Thefe eyes, thefe eyes beheld a prefent God,
Who now before him, now beide kim tood,
Fought as he fought, and mark'd his way with

blood:

In vain old Mentor's form the God bely'd;
'Twas Heaven that ftruck, and Heaven was on his
fde.

515

A fudden horror all th' affembly shook,
When, flowly ring, Halitherfes fpoke:
(Reverend and wife, whofe comprehenfive view
At once the prefeat and the future knew)
Me too, ye fathers, hear! from you proceed 520
The ills ye mourn; your own the guilty deed;

Ye gave your fons, your lawlefs fons, the rein
(Oft warn'd by Mentor and myself in vain).
An abfent hero's bed they fought to foil,
An abfent hero's wealth they made their fpoil: 525
Immoderate riot, and intemperate luft!
Th' offence was great, the punishment was juft.
Weigh then my counfels in an equal feale,
Nor rush to ruin-Juftice will prevail.

His moderate words fome better minds perfuade: 530

They part, and join him; but the number stay'd.
They form, they fhout, with hafty plarenzy fir'd,
And fecond all Eupithes rage infpir'd.
They cafe their limbs in brass; to arms they run;
The broad effulgence blazes in the fun.
Before the city, and in ample plain,

535

They meet: Eupithes heads the frantic train. Fierce for his fon, he breathes his threats in air; Fate hears then not, and Death attends him there.

This pais'd on earth, while in the realms

above

Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove:
May I prefume to Search thy fecret foul?
O Power fupreme! O Ruler of the whole!
Say, haft thou doom'd to this divided ftate
Or peaceful amity, or ftern debate?
Declare thy purpofe; for thy will is Fate.

540

545

Is not thy thought my own? (the God replies Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies) Hath not long fince thy knowing foul decreed, The chief's return fhould make the guilty bleed?

550

560

'Tis done, and at thy will the Fates fucceed.
Yet hear the iffie: fince Ulyffes' hand
Hlas flain the fuitors, Heaven fhall blefs.the land,
None now the kindred of th' unjust shall own;
Forgot the flaughter'd brother, and the fon: 555
Each future day increafe of wealth fhall bring,
And o'er the past, Oblivion stretch her wing.
Long fall Ulyffes in his empire reft,
Ilis people bleffing, by his people blefs'd.
Let all be peace-He faid, and gave the nod
That binds the Fates; the fanction of the God:
And, prompt to execute th' eternal will,
Defended Pallas from th' Olympian hill.
Now fat Uly Tes at the rural feaft,
The rage of hunger and of thirst reprefid:
To watch the foe a trufty fpy he fent;
A fon of Dolius on the meffage went,
Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld
The foe approach, embattled on the field.
With backward ftp h Inftens to the bower, 570
And tells the news. They arm with all their

[blocks in formation]

The fuffering hero felt his patient breast
Swell with new joy, and thus his fon addref:'d :
Behold, Telemachus! (nor fear the fight)
The brave embattled; the grim front of fight!

The valiant with the valiant must contend:
Shame not the line whence glorious you defcend,
Wide o'er the world their martial fame was
spread;

Regard thy felf, the living, and the dead,

Thy eyes, great father! on this Latile caft, 590 Shall learn from me Ponelope was chafte.

So fpoke Telemachus! the gallant boy Good old Laertes heard with panting joy; [cries, And, Blefs'd! thrice blefs'd this happy day! he The day that fhows me, ere I close my eyes, 595 A fon and grandfon of th' Arcefian name Strive for fair virtue, and conteft for fame! Then thus Minerva in Laertes' car: Son of Arcefius, reverend warrior, hear! Jove and Jove's Daughter firft implore in prayer, Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air, She faid, infufing courage with the word: 602 Jove and Jove's Daughter then the chief implor'd, And, whirling high, difmifs'd the lance in air, Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear; The brafs-cheek'd helmet opens to the wound; He falls, earth thunders, and his arms refound. Before the father and the conquering fon 608 Heaps rush on heaps; they fight, they drop, they Now by the fword, and now the javelin, fall [run, The rebel race, and death had fwallow'd all; But from on high the blue-ey'd virgin cry'd; Her aw'ul voice detain'd the headlong tide. «Forbear, ye nations! your mad hands forbear "From mutual flaughter: Peace defcends to "spare."

613

Fear fhook the nations: at the voice divine,
They drop their javelins, and their rage refign.
All fcatter'd round their glittering weapons lie;
Some fall to earth, and fome confus'dly fly. 620
With dreadful fhouts Ulyffes pour'd along,
Swift as an eagle, as an eagle ftrong.

625

But Jove's red arm the burning thunder aims; Before Minerva frot the livid flames: Blazing they fell, and at her feet expir'd: Then ftopp'd the Goddess, trembled, and retir'd. Defcended from the Gods! Ulyffes, ceafe; 565 Offend not Jove: obey and give the peace.

[blocks in formation]

So Pallas fpoke: the mandate from above The king obey'd. The Virgin-feed of Jove, 630 In Mentor's form, confirm'd the full accord, "And willing nations knew their lawful lord."

RECOMMENDATORY POEMS.

TO MR. POPE,

ON HIS PASTORALS.

IN thofe more dull, as more cenforious days,
When few dare give, and fewer merit praise,
A Mufe fincere, that never Flattery knew,
Pays what to friendfaip and defert is dus.

Young, yet judicious; in your verfe are found, 5! A various spoil adorn'd our naked land,

Art ftrengthening Nature, Senfe improv'd by

Sound.

Unlike thofe Wits, whofe numbers glide along So fmooth, no thought e'er interrupts the foug: Laboriously enervate they appear,

10

15

And write not to the head, but to the ear:
Our minds unmov'd and unconcern'd they lull,
And are at best most mufically dull :
So purling fireams with even murmurs creep,
And hu, the heavy hearers into fleep.
As fmootheft fpeech is moft deceitful found,
The fmootheft numbers oft are empty found.
But Wit and Judgment join at once in you,
Sprightly as Youth, as Age confummate too:
Your ftrains are regularly bold, and please
With unforc'd care, and unaffected eafe,
With proper thoughts, and lively images;
Such as by Nature to the Ancients shown,
Fancy improves, and judgment makes your own:
For gr.at men's fafhions to be follow'd are,
Although difgraceful 'tis their cloaths to wear. 25
Some, in a polish'd style write Pastoral;
Arcadia fpeaks the language of the Mall.
Like fome fair Shepherdefs, the Sylvan Mufe
Should wear thofe flowers her native fields pro-
duce;

20

30

35

And the true measure of the fhepherd's wit
Should, like his garb, be ter the Country fit:
Yet muft his pure and unaffected thought
More nicely than the common fwain's be wrought;
So, with becoming art, the Players drefs
In fills the shepherd, and the fhepherdess;
Yet ftill unchanged the form and mode remain,
Shap'd like the homely ruffet of the wain.
Your rural Mufe appears to justify
The long-loft graces of fimplicity:
So rural beauties captivate our fenfe
With virgin charms, and native excellence :
Yot long her Modesty those charms conceal'd,
Tal by men's Envy to the world reveal'd;
For Wits induftrious to their trouble feem,
And needs will envy what they muft efteem.
Live, and enjoy their spite! nor mourn that
fate,

40

45

Which would, if Virgil liv'd, on Virgil wait; Whofe Mufe did once, like thine, in plains delight;

Thine all, like his, foon take a higher flight:
Se larks, which firit from lowly fields arife,
Mount by degrees, and reach at last the skies.

H^

TO MR. POPE,

50

The Pride of Perfa glitter'd on our strand,
And China's Earth was caft on common fand:
Tofs'd up and down the glofly fragments lay, 10
And drefs'd the rocky fhelves, and pav'd the
painted bay.

Thy treasures next arriv'd; and now we boaft A cobler cargo on our barren coast :

From thy luxuriant Foreft we receive
More lasting glories than the Eaft can give.
Where'er we dip in thy delightful page,

15

20

What pompous fcenes our bufy thoughts engage!
The pompous fcenes in all their pride appear,
Fresh in the page, as in the grove they were:
Nor half fo true the fair Lodona fhows
The fylvan ftate that on her border grows,
While fhe the wond'ring thepherd entertains
With a new Windfor in her watery plains;
The jufter lays the lucid wave furpass,
The living fcene is in the Mufe's glafs.
Nor fweeter notes the echoing Foreft chear,
When Philomela fits and warbles there,
Than when you fing the greens and opening
glades,

25

And give us Harmony as well as Shades:
A Titian's hand might draw the grove; but you 30
Can paint the grove, and add the Mufic too.
With vast variety thy pages fine;
A new creation ftarts in every line.
How fudder trees rife to the reader's fight,
And make a doubtful scene of fhade andlight, 35
And give at once the day, at once the night!
And here again what fweet confufion reigns,
In dreary deferts mix'd with painted plains!
And fee! the deferts caft a pleating gloom,
And fhrubby heaths rejoice in purple bloom; 40
Whilft fruitful crops rife by their barren fide,
And bearded groves difplay their annual pride.

Happy the man, who ftrings his tuneful lyre Where woods, and brooks, and breathing felds infpire!

Thrice happy you! and worthy best to dwell 45 Amidst the rural joys you fing fo well.

}

I in a cold, and in a barren clime,
Cold as my thought, and baren as my rhyme,
Here on the Western beach attempt to chime.
joylefs flood! O rough tempeftuous main! 50
Border'd with weeds, and folitudes obfcene!
Snatch me, ye Gods! from thefe Atlantic
shores,

And fhelter me in Windfor's fragrant bowers;
Or to my much-lov'd Ifis' walk convey,
And on her flowery banks for ever lay.

55

Thence let me view the venerable scene,
The awful dome, the grove's eternal green,
Where facred Hough long found his fam'd retreat,
And brought the Mufes to the fylvan feat;
Reform'd the wits, unlock'd the Claffic ftore, 60
And made that Mufic which was noife before.
There with illuftrious Bards I spent my days,
Not free from cenfure, nor unknown to praise;
Enjoy'd the bleffings that his reign bestow'd,
Nor envy'd Windfor in the foft abode.
5 The golden minutes fmoothly danc'd away,
And tuneful Bards beguil'd the tedions day:

ON HIS WINDSOR-FOREST. TAIL! facred Bard! a Mufe unknown before Salutes thee from the bleak Atlantic fhore. To our dark world thy fhining page is shown, And Windfor's gay retreat becomes our own. The Eaftero pomp had just bespoke our care, And India pour'd her gaudy treafures here:

65

[blocks in formation]

Ah! how I melt with pity, when I fpy

On the cold earth the fluttering pheafant lie!
His gaudy robes in dazzling lines appear,
And every feather fhines and varies there.

75

Nor can I pafs the generous courfer by; 801
But while the prancing teed allures my eye,
He ftarts, he's gone! and now I fee him fly
O'er hills and dales; and now I lose the course,
Nor can the rapid fight pursue the flying horfe.
Oh, could thy Virgil from his orb look down, 85|
He'd view a courfer that might match his own!
Fir'd with the fport, and eager for the chace,
Lodoca's murmurs ftop me in the race.
Who can refuse Lodona's melting tale?
The fost complaint fall over Time prevail;
The Tale be told when fhades forfake her f ore,
The Nymph be fung when the can flow no more.
Nor fhall the fong, old Thames! forbear to
fhine,

[ocr errors]

At once the fubject and the fong divine.
Peace, fung by thee, fall please ev'a Britons

more

Than all their fhouts for victory before.
Oh! could Britannia imitate thy fream,
The world fhould tremble at her awful name;
From various fprings divided waters glide,
In different colours roll a diferent tide,
Murmur along their crooked banks a while,
At once they murmur and enrich the ifle;"
A while diftin&t through many channels run,
But meet at laft, and fwectly flow in one;

95

100

15

20

But let their pens, to yours, the heralds prove,
Who ftrive for you, as Greece for Homer firove;
Whilst he who beft your Poetry allerts,
Afferts his own, by fympathy of parts.
Me Panegyric verfe does not infpire,
Who never well can praite what I admire,
Nor in thofe lofty trials dare appear,
But gently drop this counfel in your ear:
Go on, to gain applaufes by defert;
Inform the head, whilt you diffolve the heart:
Inflame the foldier with harmonious rage,
Elate the young, and gravely warm the fage:
Allure, with tender verfe, the Female race; 25
And give their darling paffion, courtly grace:
Defcribe the Foreft ftill in rural firains,
With vernal fweets fresh-breathing from the
plains:

Your Tales be easy, natural, and gay,
Nor all the Poet in that part display;
Nor let the Critic there his fkill unfold,
For Boccace thus and Chaucer tales have told :
Sooth, as you only can, each dizerent tafte,
And for the future charm us in the paft.
Then, fould the verfe of every artful hand
Before your numbers eminently ftand;
In you no vanity could thence be shown,
Unless, fince fort in beauty of your own,
Some envious feribbler might in fpite declare,
That for comparifon you plac'd them there.
But Envy could not against you fucceed:
is not from friends that write, or foes that
read;
Cenfure or Praise must from ourfelves proceed.

TO MR. POPE.

39

BY MISS JUD. COWPER, AFTERWARDS

MRS. MADAN.

35

40

There joy to lofe their long-diftinguit'd names, POPE! by what commanding wondrous art

And make one glorious and immortal Thames.

[blocks in formation]

Dott thou each paffion to each breaft im

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

45

50

Go on, and, with thy rare refiflefs art Rule each emotion of the various heart; The spring and teft of verfe unrival'd reign, And the full honours of thy youth maintain; Sooth, with thy wonted cafe and power divine, Our fouls, and our degenerate taftes refine; In judgment o'er our favourite follies fit, And foften Wifdoin's harth reproofs to Wit. Now war and arms thy mighty aid demand, And Homer wakes beneath thy powerful hand: His vigour, genuine heat, and manly force, In thee rife worthy of their facred fource; His fpirit heighten'd, yet his fenfe intire, As Gold runs purer from the trying fre. O, for a Mufe like thine, while I rehearse Th' immortal beauties of thy various verfe! Now light as air th' enlivening numbers move, 60 Soft as the doway plumes of fabled Love, Gay as the fireaks that flain the gaudy bow, Sinooth as Meander's cryftal mirrours flow.

[ocr errors]

Buds open, and difclofe the inmost shade;
The ripen'd harveft crowns the level glade,
But when the artist does a work defign,
Where bolder rage inforfus each breathing line;
When the firetch'd cloth a rougher firoke re-
ceives,
83

And Cæfar awful in the canvas lives;
When Art like lavish Nature's felf supplies,
Grace to the limbs, and fpirit to the Eyes;
When ev'n the paffions of the mind are feen,
And the Soul fpeaks in the exalted Mien;
When all is juft; and regular, and great,
We own the mighty Matter's fkill, as boundles
as complete.

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[ocr errors]

In Addison's majestic numbers ftine,
Why then fhould Pope, ye bards, ye critics, tell,
Remain unfung, who fings himself fo well?
Hear then, great bard, who can alike inspire
With Waller's foftnefs, or with Milton's fire;
Whilft I, the meaneft of the Mufes' throng,
To thy juft praifes tune th' adventurous fong.

How am I fill'd with rapture and delight,
When gods and mortals, mix'd, suftain the fight! 10
Like Milton then, though in more polift'd ftraini,
Thy chariots rattle o'er the imoaking plains..
What though archangel 'gainst archangel arms,
55 And highest Heaven refounds with dire alarms!
Doth not the reader with like dread survey
The wounded gods repuls'd with foul difmay?
But when fome fair-one guides your foiter
verfe,

65

But, when Achilles, panting for the war, Joins the feet courfers to the whirling car; When the warm hero, with celeftial might, Augments the terror of the raging ght, From his fierce eyes refulgent lightings ftream (As Sol emerging darts a golden gleam); In rough hearfe verfe we fee th'embattled foes; 70 In each loud ftrain the fiery onfent glows; With ftrength redoubled here Achilles frines, And all the battle thunders in thy lines.

So the right Magic of the Painter's hand Can cities, fredm, tall towers, and far-ftretch'd phia, command;

.

75

Here fpreading woods embrown the beauteous fcene,

There the wide landfcape files with livelier

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

15

Her charms, her godlike features, to rehearse; See how her eyes with quicker lightnings arm, And Waller's thoughts in fmoother numbers charm!

23

When fools provoke, and dunces urge thy rage, Flecknoe improv'd bites keener in each page. Give o'er, great bard, your fruitless toil give n'er, For fill king Theobald fcribbles as before; Poor Shakespeare fuffers by his pen each day, 25 While Grub-treet alleys own his lawful fway.

Now turn, my Mufe, thy quick, poetic eyes, And view gay feetes and opening profpects rik. Hark! how his ruftic numbers charm around, While groves to groves, and hills to hills refound! The liftening beafts ftand fearless as he fings, 31 Aud birds attentive close their ufelefs wings. The fwains and fatyrs trip it o'er the plain, And think old Spenfer is revivid again. But when once more the godlike man begun 35 In words fmooth flowing from his tuneful tong. Ravife'd they gaze, and truck with wonder fay, Sure Spenfor's felf ne'er fung fo fweet a lay :

« PreviousContinue »