Poetical Works of Johnson, Parnell, Gray, and Smollett Part 30

[Footnote 1: Smollett, imagining himself ill-treated by Lord Lyttelton, wrote the above burlesque on that n.o.bleman's Monody on the death of his lady.]

ODE TO MIRTH.

Parent of joy! heart-easing Mirth!

Whether of Venus or Aurora born, Yet G.o.ddess sure of heavenly birth, Visit benign a son of grief forlorn: Thy glittering colours gay, Around him, Mirth, display, And o'er his raptured sense Diffuse thy living influence: So shall each hill, in purer green array'd, And flower adorn'd in new-born beauty glow, 10 The grove shall smooth the horrors of the shade, And streams in murmurs shall forget to flow.

Shine, G.o.ddess! shine with unremitted ray, And gild (a second sun) with brighter beam our day.

Labour with thee forgets his pain, And aged Poverty can smile with thee; If thou be nigh, Grief's hate is vain, And weak the uplifted arm of Tyranny.

The morning opes on high His universal eye, 20 And on the world doth pour His glories in a golden shower; Lo! Darkness trembling 'fore the hostile ray, Shrinks to the cavern deep and wood forlorn: The brood obscene that own her gloomy sway Troop in her rear, and fly the approaching morn; Pale shivering ghosts that dread the all-cheering light, Quick as the lightning's flash glide to sepulchral night.

But whence the gladdening beam That pours his purple stream 30

ODE TO SLEEP.

Soft Sleep, profoundly pleasing power, Sweet patron of the peaceful hour!

Oh, listen from thy calm abode, And hither wave thy magic rod; Extend thy silent, soothing sway, And charm the canker care away: Whether thou lov'st to glide along, Attended by an airy throng Of gentle dreams and smiles of joy, Such as adorn the wanton boy; 10 Or to the monarch's fancy bring Delights that better suit a king, The glittering host, the groaning plain, The clang of arms, and victor's train; Or should a milder vision please, Present the happy scenes of peace, Plump Autumn, blushing all around, Rich Industry, with toil embrown'd, Content, with brow serenely gay, And genial Art's refulgent ray. 20

ODE TO LEVEN WATER.

On Leven's banks, while free to rove, And tune the rural pipe to love, I envied not the happiest swain That ever trod the Arcadian plain.

Pure stream, in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave, No torrents stain thy limpid source; No rocks impede thy dimpling course, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed, With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread; 10 While, lightly poised, the scaly brood In myriads cleave thy crystal flood; The springing trout, in speckled pride, The salmon, monarch of the tide, The ruthless pike, intent on war, The silver eel, and mottled par.

Devolving from thy parent lake, A charming maze thy waters make, By bowers of birch, and groves of pine, And edges flower'd with eglantine. 20

Still on thy banks, so gaily green, May numerous herds and flocks be seen, And la.s.ses, chanting o'er the pail, And shepherds, piping in the dale, And ancient faith, that knows no guile, And Industry, embrown'd with toil, And hearts resolved, and hands prepared, The blessings they enjoy to guard.

ODE TO BLUE-EYED ANN.

1 When the rough north forgets to howl, And ocean's billows cease to roll; When Lybian sands are bound in frost, And cold to Nova-Zembla's lost; When heavenly bodies cease to move, My blue-eyed Ann I'll cease to love!

2 No more shall flowers the meads adorn, Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn, Nor swelling buds proclaim the spring, Nor parching heats the dog-star bring, Nor laughing lilies paint the grove, When blue-eyed Ann I cease to love.

3 No more shall joy in hope be found, Nor pleasures dance their frolic round, Nor love's light G.o.d inhabit earth, Nor beauty give the pa.s.sion birth, Nor heat to summer sunshine cleave, When blue-eyed Nanny I deceive.

4 When rolling seasons cease to change, Inconstancy forgets to range; When lavish May no more shall bloom, Nor gardens yield a rich perfume; When Nature from her sphere shall start, I'll tear my Nanny from my heart.

ODE TO INDEPENDENCE.

STROPHE.

Thy spirit, Independence! let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye; Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.

Deep in the frozen regions of the north, A G.o.ddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal Liberty, whose look sublime, Hath bleach'd the tyrant's cheek in every varying clime.

What time the iron-hearted Gaul, With frantic Superst.i.tion for his guide, 10 Arm'd with the dagger and the pall, The sons of Woden to the field defied; The ruthless hag, by Weser's flood, In Heaven's name urged the infernal blow, And red the stream began to flow: The vanquished were baptised with blood![1]

ANTISTROPHE.

The Saxon prince in horror fled From altars stain'd with human gore; And Liberty his routed legions led In safety to the bleak Norwegian sh.o.r.e. 20 There in a cave asleep she lay, Lull'd by the hoa.r.s.e resounding main; When a bold savage pa.s.s'd that way, Impell'd by destiny, his name Disdain.

Of ample front the portly chief appear'd: The hunted bear supplied a s.h.a.ggy vest; The drifted snow hung on his yellow beard, And his broad shoulders braved the furious blast.

He stopp'd; he gazed; his bosom glow'd, And deeply felt the impression of her charms; 30 He seized the advantage Fate allow'd, And straight compress'd her in his vigorous arms.

STROPHE.

The curlew scream'd, the Tritons blew Their sh.e.l.ls to celebrate the ravish'd rite; Old Time exulted as he flew, And Independence saw the light; The light he saw in Albion's happy plains, Where, under cover of a flowering thorn, While Philomel renew'd her warbled strains, The auspicious fruit of stolen embrace was born. 40 The mountain Dyriads seized with joy The smiling infant to their charge consign'd; The Doric Muse caress'd the favourite boy; The hermit Wisdom stored his opening mind: As rolling years matured his age, He flourish'd bold and sinewy as his sire; While the mild pa.s.sions in his breast a.s.suage The fiercer flames of his maternal fire.

ANTISTROPHE.

Accomplish'd thus he wing'd his way, And zealous roved from pole to pole, 50 The rolls of right eternal to display, And warm with patriot thoughts the aspiring soul; On desert isles 'twas he that raised Those spires that gild the Adriatic wave,[2]

Where Tyranny beheld, amazed, Fair Freedom's temple where he mark'd her grave: He steel'd the blunt Batavian's arms To burst the Iberian's double chain; And cities rear'd, and planted farms, Won from the skirts of Neptune's wide domain.[3] 60 He with the generous rustics sate On Uri's rocks[4] in close divan; And wing'd that arrow sure as fate, Which ascertain'd the sacred rights of man.

STROPHE.

Arabia's scorching sands he cross'd, Where blasted Nature pants supine, Conductor of her tribes adust To Freedom's adamantine shrine; And many a Tartar horde forlorn, aghast, He s.n.a.t.c.h'd from under fell Oppression's wing, 70 And taught amidst the dreary waste The all-cheering hymns of liberty to sing.

He virtue finds, like precious ore, Diffused through every baser mould; E'en now he stands on Calvi's rocky sh.o.r.e,[5]

And turns the dross of Corsica to gold.

He, guardian Genius! taught my youth Pomp's tinsel livery to despise; My lips, by him chastised to truth, Ne'er paid that homage which my heart denies. 80

ANTISTROPHE.

Those sculptured halls my feet shall never tread, Where varnish'd Vice and Vanity, combined To dazzle and seduce, their banners spread, And forge vile shackles for the freeborn mind; While Insolence his wrinkled front uprears, And all the flowers of spurious Fancy blow; And t.i.tle his ill-woven chaplet wears, Full often wreath'd around the miscreant's brow; Where ever-dimpling Falsehood, pert and vain, Presents her cup of stale Profession's froth; 90 And pale Disease, with all his bloated train, Torments the sons of gluttony and sloth.

STROPHE.

In Fortune's car behold that minion ride, With either India's glittering spoils oppress'd; So moves the sumpter-mule in harness'd pride, That bears the treasure which he cannot taste.

For him let venal bards disgrace the bay, And hireling minstrels wake the tinkling string; Her sensual snares let faithless Pleasure lay; And jingling bells fantastic Folly ring; 100 Disquiet, doubt, and dread shall intervene, And Nature, still to all her feelings just, In vengeance hang a damp on every scene, Shook from the baneful pinions of Disgust.

ANTISTROPHE.

Nature I'll court in her sequester'd haunts, By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell, Where the poised lark his evening ditty chaunts, And Health, and Peace, and Contemplation dwell.

There Study shall with Solitude recline, And Friendship pledge me to his fellow swains, 110 And Toil and Temperance sedately twine The slender cord that fluttering life sustains; And fearless Poverty shall guard the door, And Taste unspoil'd the frugal table spread, And Industry supply the humble store, And Sleep unbribed his dews refreshing shed; White-mantled Innocence, ethereal sprite!

Shall chase far off the goblins of the night, And Independence o'er the day preside, Propitious power! my patron and my pride! 120

[Footnote 1: 'Baptised with blood:' Charlemagne obliged four thousand Saxon prisoners to embrace the Christian religion, and immediately after they were baptized, ordered their throats to be cut. Their prince, Vitikind, fled for shelter to Gotrick, king of Denmark.]

[Footnote 2: 'Adriatic wave:' although Venice was built a considerable time before the era here a.s.signed for the birth of Independence, the republic had not yet attained to any great degree of power and splendour.]