" he cried, " my
bleeding
country
h there no hand on high, to shield the brave ?
h there no hand on high, to shield the brave ?
Carey - 1796 - Key to Practical English Prosody
.
658.
-- The Picture of Venus.
.
.
.
.
.
,' \'\
When first the Iihodiau's mimic art array'tl
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? Key to English Prosody. 111
The queen of beaufj/ in the Cy-\-pridn shade, |
The happy master m'mglld in his piece
Each look that charm'd him in ihe fair of Greece :
To faultless nature true, he stole a grace
From ev'ry fairer form, and sweeter face.
659
Bright Us the pillar rose at Heav'n's command,
When Israel march'd along the desert land,
Blaz'd, through the night, on lonely wilds, afar,
And told the path -- a never-setting star;
So, keav'nly Genius! in thy course divine,
Hope is thy star: her light is ever thine.
660
Thy daughters, Babylon, to grace the feast,
Weave th<? loose robe, and paint the flow'ry vest:
With ro-\-se&te wieaths | they braid the glossy hair:
They tinge the cheek, which Nature form'd so fair,
Learn the' soft step, the soul-subduing glance,
Melt in the song, and swim adown the dance.
661
Come, gen\le Peace, from realms of endless rest!
Bid the' vex'd earth, like thy own heav'n, be blest.
Bid wasteful War his furious ravage cease.
And Plenty glad the earth with new increase.
oh! bid deploring nations cease to mourn,
And guilty swords to smiling ploughshares turn.
662
ah! what avails it, if the Muse's fire
Must, like the me-\-tgor's trans-\-ientflash, | expire ?
Alas ! what boots it ? since the hero's doom
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? 112 Key to English Prosody.
Is Death's dark cavern, and th' obli-|-cious tomb--
Since lasting praise not Fames loud trump can give ;
and, in the grave, nor bays nor laurels live.
668
From the loud camp retir'd, and noisy court,
In howtfrable ease and rural sport
The remnant tif his days he safely pass'd,
Nor found they lagg'd too slow, or flew too fast.
He made his wish with fits estate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.
664
Th' advent'rous boy, who asks his little share,
And hies from home with ma-|-my ag<w-|-sip's pray'r,
Turns on the neighb'ring hill, once more to see
The dear abode of peace and privacy;
and, as he turns, the thatch among the trees,
The smokers blue wreaths ascendjwg wtth the breeze,
all rouse reflexion's sadly-pleasing train;
And oft he looks, and weeps, aud looks again.
665
oh! let me wande"r at the moonlight hour
To some sequester'd grove or silent bow'r,
When cease the carVls of the plumy throng,
And Philomel begins her plaintive song.
Sweet bird of eve, I love thy liquid note,
That flows me\\\-\-JiuousfrVm \ thy quiv'ring throat.
o Zephyr ! fleeting Zephyr! longer stay,
fs'or bear that lovely harmony away.
666
When Zephyr breathes upon the azure waves,
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? Key to English Prosody. 113
My panting breast the peaceful ocean braves,
Glows u-ith the ^fiie, those softer joys inhales)
Dropp'd from the balmy \>\nions of the gales.
But, when the curling billow rears its form,
And silent horror broods upon the storm,
I turn my (outsteps tV yon sAe/t'ring grove,
Misfortune's refuge, the" retreat of love.
66'7. -- The Carrier Pigeon.
Led by what chart, transports the timid dove
The wreaths of conquest, #r the vows of love ? [flight?
Say, through the clouds what compass points her
Monarchs have gaz'd, and nations bless'd the sight.
Pile rocks on rocks: bid woods and mountains rise :
Eclipse her native shades, her native skies:
Tis vain : through aether's pathless wilds she goes,
And lights at last where all her cares repose.
668
Where should we find (those comforts at an end,
Which Scripture yields) or hope to find a friend ?
Sorrow might muse herself to madness then,
And, seeking exile from the sight of men,
Bury herself in solitude profound,
Grow frantic with her pangs, and bite the ground.
Thus often unbelief, grown sick of life,
Flies to the tempting pool, or felon knife.
669
And shall I dread at this dark hour to rove
Amid the solemn stillness of the grove,
or where the time-worn battlements arise,.
or the"proud turret low in ruin lies ?
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? 114 Key to English Prosody.
I scorn the thought--assur'd that sov'reign pow'r
Governs alike the dark or noontide hour:
And here, as free from vain alarm, I stray
Amid these sliades, as in the blaze of day;
While to thy care, o thou almighty friend,
By night or day, my spirit i commend.
670
Friend of my heart, companion of my youth,
As fam'd for learnj//g, as rever'd for truth,
In whom united we alike admire
The sage's wisdom, and the poet's fire,
A gen'rous temper and a noble mind,
ardor undamp'd, and genius unconfin'd;
Skilful alike to raise the lofty song,
. Or playful sport the flow'ry meads among ;
The smiling Muse has taught thee all her art,
To catch the fancy, S. nd to seise the heart.
671. -- Tobacco.
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriend/y tS society's chief joys!
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilises ours.
Thou art indeed the drug a gard'ner wants,
To poison vermtn that infest his plants.
But are we so to wit and beauty blind,
as to despise the glory of our kind,
And show the soft&f and the fairest forms
As little mercy, as to grubs and worms ?
672
None sends his arroay to the mark in view,
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? Key to English Prosody. 115
Whose hand is feeblS, or whose aim untrue.
For, though, ere yet the shaft fa on the wing,
or when it first forsakes th' elastic string,
It err but Yntle frum th' intended linp,
Tt. falls at last far wide of Jus design.
So he, who seeks a mansion in the sky,
Must watch his purpose xcith a steadfast eye.
That prize belongs to none but the sincere : .
The least obYiquity is fatal here.
673. --The Maniac.
Hark! the wild md-\-niac sings, | to chide the gale
That wafts so slow her lover's distant sail.
She, sad spectatress! on the wintry shore,
JVdtch'd the rude surge, his shroudless corse that bore,
Knew thS pale form, and, shriekJ/ig in amaze,
C/asp'd her cold hands, and fix'd her madd'ning gaze.
Poor roldow'd wretch ! 'twas there she wept in vain,
'Till mem'ry fled her agonising brain.
But Mercy gave, to charm the sense of woe,
Ideal peace, that truth could ne'er bestow.
Warm on her heart, the joys of fancy beam,
And aimless hope delights her darkest dream.
674. --To Hope.
Propitious pow'r! when rankling cares annoy
The sacred home of Hymenean joy,
Where,' doom'd to poverty's sequester'd dell,
The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell,
\Jnpitied by the world, unknown to fame,
Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same--
oh! there, prophetic Hope, thy smile bestow,
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? 1 16 Key to English Prosody.
And chase the pangs that Worth should never know.
There, as the parent deals his scanty store
To friendless babes, ami weeps to give no more,
Tell, that his manly race shall yet assuage
Their father's wrongs, and shield his latter age.
675
At summer eve, when heav'n's ae-|. r/a/ bow \
Spans with bright arch. the glitt'ring hills below,
Why to yon mountmn turns the musing eye,
Whose sun-bright summit ming/ft with the sky?
Why d% those cliffs of shn-\-dbwy tint | appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near?
'Tis distance, lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue1.
Thus, with delight, we linger to survey
The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way ;
Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene
More pleasing seems than all the past has been;
And ev'ry form, that Fancy can repair
From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.
Terusyllable Iambics, with Alterations, ijc.
676. -- Botany Bay.
Here zeU are safe : on this pacific shore,
No tigers prowl, no mighty lions roar;
No howling wolf is heard ; no secret brake
Conceals the \enom of the coiling snake.
Soft as in England, smile the summers here;. .
As gentle winters close the dying year. .
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? Key to English Prosody. 117
Nor here is heard th' autumnal whirlwind's breath ;
Nor vernal tempests breathe the blast of death.
Without one vain regret to call a tear,
To wake one wish, 1 feel contented here.
and a? shall yet be happy : yonder ray,
The mild effulg? <<ce of departing day,
As gaily gilds this humb\e dwelling o'er,
as th8 proud domes on England's distant shore.
677. -- The Slave-trade.
The tender ties of father, husband, friend,
all bonds of nature "in that moment end ;
And each endures, while yet he draws his breath,
A stroke as fatal as the scythe of Death.
The sable \\ax-\-rior,fran-\-ttc with regret
Of her he loves, and new" can forget,
Loses in tears the far-receding shore,
But not the thought that th%y must meet uo more.
Depriv'd of her and freedom at a blow,
What has he left, that h$ can yet forego ?
Yes, to deep sadness sa\len/y resign'd,
He feels his body's bondage in tiis mind,
Puts off'Wis gen'ious nature, and, 'o suit
His manners with his fate, puts on the brute.
676 A.
Ye spirits, wlicl inhabit worlds unknown !
Terrific spectres! whither are you flown ? -
oft have I heard, yon love, ai this dread hour,
To haunt the ruin'd aisle, or moss-grown tou'i;
To flit in sha-\-dowi) forms | along the glade,
Or stalk gigantic 'midst the gloomy shade.
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? 118 Key to English Prosody.
Yet here, alone, with silent steps I tread,
Where broken walls their mou'd'ring ruins spread;
Whtre the cold ashVs of the fair and great,
Vainly enshrin'd, repose in awful state ;
Where the dark Ivy clasps th' embattled tow'r.
And lengthens out awhile its final hour:
But all is still: no frightful ghost appears;
No ghust\y phanrom tls huge form uprears ;
No a>/<7fe-rob'd spirit glides across the gloom ;
No hollow groan low mutters frtim the tomb.
678 B.
as whiSn a felon, whom his country's laws
Have justly doom'd fUr tVme atrocious cause,
Expects, in darkness and heart-chilling fears,
The shameful close of all his misspent years;
if, chance, on heavy pinions slowly borne,
A tempest usher in the dreaded morn,
upon his dungeon-walls the lightnings play,
The thunder seems to summVn him away;
The warder at the door his key applies,
Shoots back the bolt ; and all his courage dies.
if then, just then, all thought of mercy lost,
When hope, long foig'iing, yields at last the ghost,
The sound of pardon pierce his startled ear,
He drops at once his fetters tind his fear ;
A transport glows in all he looks and speaks;
and the first thankful tears bedew his cheeks.
679. -- Cosciusko.
Warsaw's last champion fr om her height survey'd,
Wide o"er the field, a w aste of ruin laid.
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? Key to English Prosody. 119
" oh! Heav'n!
" he cried, " my bleeding country
h there no hand on high, to shield the brave ? [save !
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise,Jellow men ! our country yet remains.
By that dread name we wave the sword on high,
And swear for her to live, with her to die. "
He said, and, on ihe rampart heights, array'd
His trusty viai-\-ribrs,few, J but undismay'd.
Ftrm-pac'd and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as'the storm.
Low murm'ring sounds along their banners fly^: ,4
" Revenge or death ! " the watchatfrrf and reply. . . . t. . .
In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few,
From rank to rank your volley'd thunders flew. . . .
Hope,for a season, bade the world farewell;
And Freedom shriek'd, as Cosciusko fell.
680. -- Beauty's Eclipse,
Loud howl'd the tempest tif a winter's night,
And dying lamps dispens'd a twinkling light:
No friendly star illum'd the vault of heav'n ;
But, o'er its face, big clouds were wildly driv'n.
Mute silence reign'd in each deserted street,
Save, where the rushing blast, or pelting sleet,
Was heard to whisrYe, tir to rudely beat.
'Twas then, that on a flinty step reclin'd,
To all the pow'r of wretch? e//j&>s resign'd,
Grief on her cheek, and famine tn her eye,
A child of misery was seen to lie.
Rough b/Sw the wind around her shiv'ring form;
Lost were her sighs amid the rattling storm.
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? 120 Key to English Prosody.
UncorPr'd mas her bosom, once so fair,
Now t/ie cold residence of dark despair.
Loose down her back her matted tresses lay,
Those lovely locks, once deck'd in colors gay :
. Damp were her temples with the dews of death,
And slowly drawn her thick and struggling breath.
Life's julv'ring taper hasten'd 1% an end :
On Death she calls--to her a welcome friend.
I murk'd the clo<<wg of her stormy day :
I saw her ling'ring graces steal away--
HeardthS last accents tremi/e on her lips,
While Nature sigh'd at Beauty's dire eclipse.
Iambics of eight syllables and six, with J Iterations, $;r.
681
ask not of me th* essential form "'
That high-priz'd beauty wears'.
ah! who shall paint the magic charm,
That ev'ry breast ensnares ?
Search for the answer m your heart;
For there the secret's found'. ' ? "J'
'Tityour own taste that pofrits the dart,
And bids our beauty wound.
. ' . * . ' . r:ii<<
Iambics of eight syllables, with Alterations, fyc.
1 love the tear, the pearl of woe,
That decks the sympathising eye--
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? Key to English Prosody. 121
To see the stream of sorrow flow,
To hear the deeply-heaving sigh.
683
Yes, let the miser count his gold,
And toil and scrape to swell the heap:
Say, can the heart, that's hard and cold,
Of wealth the fruitful pleasures reap?
684
I love to hear the woodlark sing,
As, using from her low-built nest,
She makes the woods and valleys ring,
And sweetly sooihs my soul to rest.
685
RacKd by the hand of rude disease,
Behold, our fav'rite poet lies;
While ev'ry object, form'd to please,
Far from his couch ungrateful flies.
Iambics of Jive feet ,or ten syllables,with Alterationstife.
686
No human wisdom c&n foresee the wrong :
No human prudence can avert its force.
Like the mad whirlwind, lo! it sweeps along;
And nought but Heav'n can check its baneful course.
: 687
Come, Sleep! and sooth this malady of soul:
Come, Sleep I and clasp me" tit thy downy breast.
Child tif oblivion ! o'er my fancy roll,
and, in some long, long slumber, grant mc rest.
M
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? 124! Key to English Prosody.
688
Untouch'd by care, the whistling hind repairs
To yonder bank, where high the poplar waves
Its quiv'ring limbs: as he his meal prepares,
His faithful dog th" expected morsel craves.
089
ah! what avails it, that the face of day
Wears the bright verdure tif returning spring ?
On me, alas! it sheds no genial ray;
No soft sensations its approaches bring.
690
Though pearls enrich the bostirn of the deep,
No eye beholds the beauty 'if their ray.
In caves profound, beneath the flood, they sleep,
And hide their lwstrefrbm the gaze of day.
691. -- To a Red-breast.
Poor wand'rer! thbu art welctime tti this shed:
For thtiu hast borne the pitiless cold storm,
Felt the' keen blast on thy defenceless head,
And heard destruction threat thy gentle form.
692
Perch'd on my book, and perk ing in my face,
The guileless Robin seems to watch my thought.
Alas! he knows not man's perfidious race,
By whose allurement simple birds are caught.
e'en man to man but rare/y is sincere :
The love profess'd is interested art. --
Though heavVs bright image on his brow appear,
Yet honest Robin boasts a purer heart.
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? Key to English Prosody. . 123.
693 . . . K.
oh! she was fair as l\lies of the vale :
Her voice was heav'n/j/: tin her faded cheek,
With racking pain and lengthen'd sickness pale,
Sat calm-ey'd faith, and patience ever meek.
Domestic love would watch the live-long day,
Smoothing her sleepless pillow : she, the while.
In thankful silence wore the hours away,
Reviving hope with ma-|-wy a ten-\-der smik.
694. -- To the Violet. . . .
'Ndw winter's dark and cheerless morns are past,
And Sol's warm relocating beams prevail.
JVoa> wandering o'er the trackless common's waste. .
To breathe the odors wafted tin the gale
From golden furze-broom or the primrose pale,
I spy thy azure gems, so lowly spread
Beneath some lonely thorn adown the dale,
Scarce rearing frtim the ground thy humble head.
695 . ? . ; .
Sueet Hope, that still, with fond delusive dreams,
Cheer'st the' sad heart, surcharg'd with grief and
care,
My anguish'd mind longs for those healing streams
Which flow from thee, and charm beyond compare.
oh! deign to visit then my lonely cell,
And breathe thy ia-\-Jiuence on \ my wearied soul:
Come, pleasing fiMtfrer, and smiling tell
That yet my hours in happiness shall roll;
That Fortune's copious tide again shall flow,
That friends shall smile, and enemies releut;
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? 124 Key to English Prosody.
That, as in years, in wisdom t shall grow,
And find each moment crown'd with sweet content.
696
Where silent woods their dreary shade extend,
And give new horrors to the gloom of night,
If chance the swain his fault'ring footsteps bend,
In terror pausing for some friendly light;
How joyous beats his heart, when, through the glade,
Piercing the clouds he sees the moon's mild ray!
onwa'rd he springs with light and vig'rous tread,
And hails the empress "Sf the fainter day.
Thus, while through life's uncertain paths 1 rove,
Should dark Despondence spread the gathering
gloom,
M ay Hope's soft lustre, streaming from above,
Dispel the bodtngs Hf a mournful doom. ,
697
Alone and pensive near some desert shore,
Farfrtfm the haunts of men, I love lb stray,
And cautiously my distant path explore,
Where never human footstep mark'd the way.
ParfrSm the public gaze I strive to fly,
and t% the winds alone my griefs impart,
While In my hollow cheek and haggard eye
Appears the fire that burns my inmost heart.
But, ah ! in vain to distant scenes I go;
No solitude my troubled thoughts allays.
MeLhinks, e'en things inanimate must know
The flame that on my soul in secret preys.
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? Key to English Prosody. 125
6Q8
Autumn, farewell! I feel the icy breath
And numbing 'wvfluSnce of winter's reign.
Around how widely spreads the realm of death,
Usurping frolic pleasure's gay domain !
O'er eastern hills now slowly climbs the sun,
While hoary fogs besiege the dusky vale :
Now faintly shine his slanting beams at noon,
And only half-enlight&j'd is the dale.
Black clouds through heav'n in quick succession sail,
And darken all the solemn prospect round :
The forest murmurs tti the sullen gale:
The tempest sweeps along the naked ground.
699. -- To a Candle.
Hail, bright companion of my lonely hours,
My midnight sun with faintly glimm'ring ray !
To thee thy master now a sonnet pours:
Accept the verse: 'tis all the bard can pay.
When solemn darkness veils the silent earth, . ,
And Night with sable sceptre rules the plain,
What time pale Fear gives fancied spectres birth,
And imag'd horrors fill the vulgar brain ;
Then to my silent chamber 7 retire,
Where books and peaceful solitude invite;
With secret pleasure trim my cheerful fire,
and, from its flame, my frugal taper light.
More dear to me thy little quiv'ring rays,
Which scarce illume my silent study round,
Tluin the proud glare, where thousand torches blaze,.
And Mirth and Folly pour their mingled sound.
M3
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 126 Key to English Prosody.
700 ^
Through dust in whirlwinds driv'n, inconstant seen,
Thick flash the swords: the frequent victim falls;
While, o'er his mangled trunk and ghastly mien,
Hosts trampling rush, where ma-\-mdc fu-\-ry calls.
Say, soldier, say, grim spectacle of pain,
What Siren lur'd the'efrb'm thy peaceful home,
To leave thy poor, thy small domestic train,
For toils of arms o'er bil-\-lowy deeps | to roam i
No beams of glory cheer thy hapless lot;
Thy name descends not to a future age--
Impell'd to combat for thou know'st not what,
And urg'd to slaughfer by another's rage.
Thy widow'd wife, thy orphan children weep,
And beg their scanty meal from door to door,
While, gash'd with wounds, thy limbs dishonor'd
And waste and moulder tin a foreign shore, [sleep,
701
Far from the iumull of the busy throng,
I court the silent grove's sequester'd shade;
and, as I view the tints of Phcebus fade,
T feel the hours drag heavily along.
' onward I stray, and, rapt in pensive gloom,
Muse on the varied ills of wayward life,
On falsehood's treach'rous wiles, ambition's strife,
And virtue hast'nu/g tV an early tomb.
702
ah! dear delights of youth, for ever fled !
ah! were I here once more a sportive child,
Again tins pebbled strand, these wood-w alks wild*
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? Key to English Prosody. 127
And winding dells, with careless step I'd tread.
The de-\-vious wan-\-d'rings #/'maturer years
Would then no painful retrospect present;
Nor keen regret for time unwisely spent
Would fill my boding breast with anxious fears.
When first the Iihodiau's mimic art array'tl
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? Key to English Prosody. 111
The queen of beaufj/ in the Cy-\-pridn shade, |
The happy master m'mglld in his piece
Each look that charm'd him in ihe fair of Greece :
To faultless nature true, he stole a grace
From ev'ry fairer form, and sweeter face.
659
Bright Us the pillar rose at Heav'n's command,
When Israel march'd along the desert land,
Blaz'd, through the night, on lonely wilds, afar,
And told the path -- a never-setting star;
So, keav'nly Genius! in thy course divine,
Hope is thy star: her light is ever thine.
660
Thy daughters, Babylon, to grace the feast,
Weave th<? loose robe, and paint the flow'ry vest:
With ro-\-se&te wieaths | they braid the glossy hair:
They tinge the cheek, which Nature form'd so fair,
Learn the' soft step, the soul-subduing glance,
Melt in the song, and swim adown the dance.
661
Come, gen\le Peace, from realms of endless rest!
Bid the' vex'd earth, like thy own heav'n, be blest.
Bid wasteful War his furious ravage cease.
And Plenty glad the earth with new increase.
oh! bid deploring nations cease to mourn,
And guilty swords to smiling ploughshares turn.
662
ah! what avails it, if the Muse's fire
Must, like the me-\-tgor's trans-\-ientflash, | expire ?
Alas ! what boots it ? since the hero's doom
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 112 Key to English Prosody.
Is Death's dark cavern, and th' obli-|-cious tomb--
Since lasting praise not Fames loud trump can give ;
and, in the grave, nor bays nor laurels live.
668
From the loud camp retir'd, and noisy court,
In howtfrable ease and rural sport
The remnant tif his days he safely pass'd,
Nor found they lagg'd too slow, or flew too fast.
He made his wish with fits estate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.
664
Th' advent'rous boy, who asks his little share,
And hies from home with ma-|-my ag<w-|-sip's pray'r,
Turns on the neighb'ring hill, once more to see
The dear abode of peace and privacy;
and, as he turns, the thatch among the trees,
The smokers blue wreaths ascendjwg wtth the breeze,
all rouse reflexion's sadly-pleasing train;
And oft he looks, and weeps, aud looks again.
665
oh! let me wande"r at the moonlight hour
To some sequester'd grove or silent bow'r,
When cease the carVls of the plumy throng,
And Philomel begins her plaintive song.
Sweet bird of eve, I love thy liquid note,
That flows me\\\-\-JiuousfrVm \ thy quiv'ring throat.
o Zephyr ! fleeting Zephyr! longer stay,
fs'or bear that lovely harmony away.
666
When Zephyr breathes upon the azure waves,
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 113
My panting breast the peaceful ocean braves,
Glows u-ith the ^fiie, those softer joys inhales)
Dropp'd from the balmy \>\nions of the gales.
But, when the curling billow rears its form,
And silent horror broods upon the storm,
I turn my (outsteps tV yon sAe/t'ring grove,
Misfortune's refuge, the" retreat of love.
66'7. -- The Carrier Pigeon.
Led by what chart, transports the timid dove
The wreaths of conquest, #r the vows of love ? [flight?
Say, through the clouds what compass points her
Monarchs have gaz'd, and nations bless'd the sight.
Pile rocks on rocks: bid woods and mountains rise :
Eclipse her native shades, her native skies:
Tis vain : through aether's pathless wilds she goes,
And lights at last where all her cares repose.
668
Where should we find (those comforts at an end,
Which Scripture yields) or hope to find a friend ?
Sorrow might muse herself to madness then,
And, seeking exile from the sight of men,
Bury herself in solitude profound,
Grow frantic with her pangs, and bite the ground.
Thus often unbelief, grown sick of life,
Flies to the tempting pool, or felon knife.
669
And shall I dread at this dark hour to rove
Amid the solemn stillness of the grove,
or where the time-worn battlements arise,.
or the"proud turret low in ruin lies ?
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 114 Key to English Prosody.
I scorn the thought--assur'd that sov'reign pow'r
Governs alike the dark or noontide hour:
And here, as free from vain alarm, I stray
Amid these sliades, as in the blaze of day;
While to thy care, o thou almighty friend,
By night or day, my spirit i commend.
670
Friend of my heart, companion of my youth,
As fam'd for learnj//g, as rever'd for truth,
In whom united we alike admire
The sage's wisdom, and the poet's fire,
A gen'rous temper and a noble mind,
ardor undamp'd, and genius unconfin'd;
Skilful alike to raise the lofty song,
. Or playful sport the flow'ry meads among ;
The smiling Muse has taught thee all her art,
To catch the fancy, S. nd to seise the heart.
671. -- Tobacco.
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriend/y tS society's chief joys!
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilises ours.
Thou art indeed the drug a gard'ner wants,
To poison vermtn that infest his plants.
But are we so to wit and beauty blind,
as to despise the glory of our kind,
And show the soft&f and the fairest forms
As little mercy, as to grubs and worms ?
672
None sends his arroay to the mark in view,
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 115
Whose hand is feeblS, or whose aim untrue.
For, though, ere yet the shaft fa on the wing,
or when it first forsakes th' elastic string,
It err but Yntle frum th' intended linp,
Tt. falls at last far wide of Jus design.
So he, who seeks a mansion in the sky,
Must watch his purpose xcith a steadfast eye.
That prize belongs to none but the sincere : .
The least obYiquity is fatal here.
673. --The Maniac.
Hark! the wild md-\-niac sings, | to chide the gale
That wafts so slow her lover's distant sail.
She, sad spectatress! on the wintry shore,
JVdtch'd the rude surge, his shroudless corse that bore,
Knew thS pale form, and, shriekJ/ig in amaze,
C/asp'd her cold hands, and fix'd her madd'ning gaze.
Poor roldow'd wretch ! 'twas there she wept in vain,
'Till mem'ry fled her agonising brain.
But Mercy gave, to charm the sense of woe,
Ideal peace, that truth could ne'er bestow.
Warm on her heart, the joys of fancy beam,
And aimless hope delights her darkest dream.
674. --To Hope.
Propitious pow'r! when rankling cares annoy
The sacred home of Hymenean joy,
Where,' doom'd to poverty's sequester'd dell,
The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell,
\Jnpitied by the world, unknown to fame,
Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same--
oh! there, prophetic Hope, thy smile bestow,
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 1 16 Key to English Prosody.
And chase the pangs that Worth should never know.
There, as the parent deals his scanty store
To friendless babes, ami weeps to give no more,
Tell, that his manly race shall yet assuage
Their father's wrongs, and shield his latter age.
675
At summer eve, when heav'n's ae-|. r/a/ bow \
Spans with bright arch. the glitt'ring hills below,
Why to yon mountmn turns the musing eye,
Whose sun-bright summit ming/ft with the sky?
Why d% those cliffs of shn-\-dbwy tint | appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near?
'Tis distance, lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue1.
Thus, with delight, we linger to survey
The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way ;
Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene
More pleasing seems than all the past has been;
And ev'ry form, that Fancy can repair
From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.
Terusyllable Iambics, with Alterations, ijc.
676. -- Botany Bay.
Here zeU are safe : on this pacific shore,
No tigers prowl, no mighty lions roar;
No howling wolf is heard ; no secret brake
Conceals the \enom of the coiling snake.
Soft as in England, smile the summers here;. .
As gentle winters close the dying year. .
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 117
Nor here is heard th' autumnal whirlwind's breath ;
Nor vernal tempests breathe the blast of death.
Without one vain regret to call a tear,
To wake one wish, 1 feel contented here.
and a? shall yet be happy : yonder ray,
The mild effulg? <<ce of departing day,
As gaily gilds this humb\e dwelling o'er,
as th8 proud domes on England's distant shore.
677. -- The Slave-trade.
The tender ties of father, husband, friend,
all bonds of nature "in that moment end ;
And each endures, while yet he draws his breath,
A stroke as fatal as the scythe of Death.
The sable \\ax-\-rior,fran-\-ttc with regret
Of her he loves, and new" can forget,
Loses in tears the far-receding shore,
But not the thought that th%y must meet uo more.
Depriv'd of her and freedom at a blow,
What has he left, that h$ can yet forego ?
Yes, to deep sadness sa\len/y resign'd,
He feels his body's bondage in tiis mind,
Puts off'Wis gen'ious nature, and, 'o suit
His manners with his fate, puts on the brute.
676 A.
Ye spirits, wlicl inhabit worlds unknown !
Terrific spectres! whither are you flown ? -
oft have I heard, yon love, ai this dread hour,
To haunt the ruin'd aisle, or moss-grown tou'i;
To flit in sha-\-dowi) forms | along the glade,
Or stalk gigantic 'midst the gloomy shade.
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 118 Key to English Prosody.
Yet here, alone, with silent steps I tread,
Where broken walls their mou'd'ring ruins spread;
Whtre the cold ashVs of the fair and great,
Vainly enshrin'd, repose in awful state ;
Where the dark Ivy clasps th' embattled tow'r.
And lengthens out awhile its final hour:
But all is still: no frightful ghost appears;
No ghust\y phanrom tls huge form uprears ;
No a>/<7fe-rob'd spirit glides across the gloom ;
No hollow groan low mutters frtim the tomb.
678 B.
as whiSn a felon, whom his country's laws
Have justly doom'd fUr tVme atrocious cause,
Expects, in darkness and heart-chilling fears,
The shameful close of all his misspent years;
if, chance, on heavy pinions slowly borne,
A tempest usher in the dreaded morn,
upon his dungeon-walls the lightnings play,
The thunder seems to summVn him away;
The warder at the door his key applies,
Shoots back the bolt ; and all his courage dies.
if then, just then, all thought of mercy lost,
When hope, long foig'iing, yields at last the ghost,
The sound of pardon pierce his startled ear,
He drops at once his fetters tind his fear ;
A transport glows in all he looks and speaks;
and the first thankful tears bedew his cheeks.
679. -- Cosciusko.
Warsaw's last champion fr om her height survey'd,
Wide o"er the field, a w aste of ruin laid.
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 119
" oh! Heav'n!
" he cried, " my bleeding country
h there no hand on high, to shield the brave ? [save !
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise,Jellow men ! our country yet remains.
By that dread name we wave the sword on high,
And swear for her to live, with her to die. "
He said, and, on ihe rampart heights, array'd
His trusty viai-\-ribrs,few, J but undismay'd.
Ftrm-pac'd and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as'the storm.
Low murm'ring sounds along their banners fly^: ,4
" Revenge or death ! " the watchatfrrf and reply. . . . t. . .
In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few,
From rank to rank your volley'd thunders flew. . . .
Hope,for a season, bade the world farewell;
And Freedom shriek'd, as Cosciusko fell.
680. -- Beauty's Eclipse,
Loud howl'd the tempest tif a winter's night,
And dying lamps dispens'd a twinkling light:
No friendly star illum'd the vault of heav'n ;
But, o'er its face, big clouds were wildly driv'n.
Mute silence reign'd in each deserted street,
Save, where the rushing blast, or pelting sleet,
Was heard to whisrYe, tir to rudely beat.
'Twas then, that on a flinty step reclin'd,
To all the pow'r of wretch? e//j&>s resign'd,
Grief on her cheek, and famine tn her eye,
A child of misery was seen to lie.
Rough b/Sw the wind around her shiv'ring form;
Lost were her sighs amid the rattling storm.
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 120 Key to English Prosody.
UncorPr'd mas her bosom, once so fair,
Now t/ie cold residence of dark despair.
Loose down her back her matted tresses lay,
Those lovely locks, once deck'd in colors gay :
. Damp were her temples with the dews of death,
And slowly drawn her thick and struggling breath.
Life's julv'ring taper hasten'd 1% an end :
On Death she calls--to her a welcome friend.
I murk'd the clo<<wg of her stormy day :
I saw her ling'ring graces steal away--
HeardthS last accents tremi/e on her lips,
While Nature sigh'd at Beauty's dire eclipse.
Iambics of eight syllables and six, with J Iterations, $;r.
681
ask not of me th* essential form "'
That high-priz'd beauty wears'.
ah! who shall paint the magic charm,
That ev'ry breast ensnares ?
Search for the answer m your heart;
For there the secret's found'. ' ? "J'
'Tityour own taste that pofrits the dart,
And bids our beauty wound.
. ' . * . ' . r:ii<<
Iambics of eight syllables, with Alterations, fyc.
1 love the tear, the pearl of woe,
That decks the sympathising eye--
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 121
To see the stream of sorrow flow,
To hear the deeply-heaving sigh.
683
Yes, let the miser count his gold,
And toil and scrape to swell the heap:
Say, can the heart, that's hard and cold,
Of wealth the fruitful pleasures reap?
684
I love to hear the woodlark sing,
As, using from her low-built nest,
She makes the woods and valleys ring,
And sweetly sooihs my soul to rest.
685
RacKd by the hand of rude disease,
Behold, our fav'rite poet lies;
While ev'ry object, form'd to please,
Far from his couch ungrateful flies.
Iambics of Jive feet ,or ten syllables,with Alterationstife.
686
No human wisdom c&n foresee the wrong :
No human prudence can avert its force.
Like the mad whirlwind, lo! it sweeps along;
And nought but Heav'n can check its baneful course.
: 687
Come, Sleep! and sooth this malady of soul:
Come, Sleep I and clasp me" tit thy downy breast.
Child tif oblivion ! o'er my fancy roll,
and, in some long, long slumber, grant mc rest.
M
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 124! Key to English Prosody.
688
Untouch'd by care, the whistling hind repairs
To yonder bank, where high the poplar waves
Its quiv'ring limbs: as he his meal prepares,
His faithful dog th" expected morsel craves.
089
ah! what avails it, that the face of day
Wears the bright verdure tif returning spring ?
On me, alas! it sheds no genial ray;
No soft sensations its approaches bring.
690
Though pearls enrich the bostirn of the deep,
No eye beholds the beauty 'if their ray.
In caves profound, beneath the flood, they sleep,
And hide their lwstrefrbm the gaze of day.
691. -- To a Red-breast.
Poor wand'rer! thbu art welctime tti this shed:
For thtiu hast borne the pitiless cold storm,
Felt the' keen blast on thy defenceless head,
And heard destruction threat thy gentle form.
692
Perch'd on my book, and perk ing in my face,
The guileless Robin seems to watch my thought.
Alas! he knows not man's perfidious race,
By whose allurement simple birds are caught.
e'en man to man but rare/y is sincere :
The love profess'd is interested art. --
Though heavVs bright image on his brow appear,
Yet honest Robin boasts a purer heart.
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. . 123.
693 . . . K.
oh! she was fair as l\lies of the vale :
Her voice was heav'n/j/: tin her faded cheek,
With racking pain and lengthen'd sickness pale,
Sat calm-ey'd faith, and patience ever meek.
Domestic love would watch the live-long day,
Smoothing her sleepless pillow : she, the while.
In thankful silence wore the hours away,
Reviving hope with ma-|-wy a ten-\-der smik.
694. -- To the Violet. . . .
'Ndw winter's dark and cheerless morns are past,
And Sol's warm relocating beams prevail.
JVoa> wandering o'er the trackless common's waste. .
To breathe the odors wafted tin the gale
From golden furze-broom or the primrose pale,
I spy thy azure gems, so lowly spread
Beneath some lonely thorn adown the dale,
Scarce rearing frtim the ground thy humble head.
695 . ? . ; .
Sueet Hope, that still, with fond delusive dreams,
Cheer'st the' sad heart, surcharg'd with grief and
care,
My anguish'd mind longs for those healing streams
Which flow from thee, and charm beyond compare.
oh! deign to visit then my lonely cell,
And breathe thy ia-\-Jiuence on \ my wearied soul:
Come, pleasing fiMtfrer, and smiling tell
That yet my hours in happiness shall roll;
That Fortune's copious tide again shall flow,
That friends shall smile, and enemies releut;
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 124 Key to English Prosody.
That, as in years, in wisdom t shall grow,
And find each moment crown'd with sweet content.
696
Where silent woods their dreary shade extend,
And give new horrors to the gloom of night,
If chance the swain his fault'ring footsteps bend,
In terror pausing for some friendly light;
How joyous beats his heart, when, through the glade,
Piercing the clouds he sees the moon's mild ray!
onwa'rd he springs with light and vig'rous tread,
And hails the empress "Sf the fainter day.
Thus, while through life's uncertain paths 1 rove,
Should dark Despondence spread the gathering
gloom,
M ay Hope's soft lustre, streaming from above,
Dispel the bodtngs Hf a mournful doom. ,
697
Alone and pensive near some desert shore,
Farfrtfm the haunts of men, I love lb stray,
And cautiously my distant path explore,
Where never human footstep mark'd the way.
ParfrSm the public gaze I strive to fly,
and t% the winds alone my griefs impart,
While In my hollow cheek and haggard eye
Appears the fire that burns my inmost heart.
But, ah ! in vain to distant scenes I go;
No solitude my troubled thoughts allays.
MeLhinks, e'en things inanimate must know
The flame that on my soul in secret preys.
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 125
6Q8
Autumn, farewell! I feel the icy breath
And numbing 'wvfluSnce of winter's reign.
Around how widely spreads the realm of death,
Usurping frolic pleasure's gay domain !
O'er eastern hills now slowly climbs the sun,
While hoary fogs besiege the dusky vale :
Now faintly shine his slanting beams at noon,
And only half-enlight&j'd is the dale.
Black clouds through heav'n in quick succession sail,
And darken all the solemn prospect round :
The forest murmurs tti the sullen gale:
The tempest sweeps along the naked ground.
699. -- To a Candle.
Hail, bright companion of my lonely hours,
My midnight sun with faintly glimm'ring ray !
To thee thy master now a sonnet pours:
Accept the verse: 'tis all the bard can pay.
When solemn darkness veils the silent earth, . ,
And Night with sable sceptre rules the plain,
What time pale Fear gives fancied spectres birth,
And imag'd horrors fill the vulgar brain ;
Then to my silent chamber 7 retire,
Where books and peaceful solitude invite;
With secret pleasure trim my cheerful fire,
and, from its flame, my frugal taper light.
More dear to me thy little quiv'ring rays,
Which scarce illume my silent study round,
Tluin the proud glare, where thousand torches blaze,.
And Mirth and Folly pour their mingled sound.
M3
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 126 Key to English Prosody.
700 ^
Through dust in whirlwinds driv'n, inconstant seen,
Thick flash the swords: the frequent victim falls;
While, o'er his mangled trunk and ghastly mien,
Hosts trampling rush, where ma-\-mdc fu-\-ry calls.
Say, soldier, say, grim spectacle of pain,
What Siren lur'd the'efrb'm thy peaceful home,
To leave thy poor, thy small domestic train,
For toils of arms o'er bil-\-lowy deeps | to roam i
No beams of glory cheer thy hapless lot;
Thy name descends not to a future age--
Impell'd to combat for thou know'st not what,
And urg'd to slaughfer by another's rage.
Thy widow'd wife, thy orphan children weep,
And beg their scanty meal from door to door,
While, gash'd with wounds, thy limbs dishonor'd
And waste and moulder tin a foreign shore, [sleep,
701
Far from the iumull of the busy throng,
I court the silent grove's sequester'd shade;
and, as I view the tints of Phcebus fade,
T feel the hours drag heavily along.
' onward I stray, and, rapt in pensive gloom,
Muse on the varied ills of wayward life,
On falsehood's treach'rous wiles, ambition's strife,
And virtue hast'nu/g tV an early tomb.
702
ah! dear delights of youth, for ever fled !
ah! were I here once more a sportive child,
Again tins pebbled strand, these wood-w alks wild*
? ? Generated for Christian Pecaut (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-26 11:50 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. hnjin7 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? Key to English Prosody. 127
And winding dells, with careless step I'd tread.
The de-\-vious wan-\-d'rings #/'maturer years
Would then no painful retrospect present;
Nor keen regret for time unwisely spent
Would fill my boding breast with anxious fears.
