Poetry Part 6

Angel of Britain! guard our Hero's life!

On that, on that depends the upshot of the fight.

How does Napoleon's soul indignant burn!

Resolving, now, his last resource to try, And urge his desperate way to victory, He straight commands a vast, o'erpowering force Of infantry, artillery, and horse, The centre of his stubborn foe to turn.

Ah! now tremendous grows the strife, On either side they war as Furies now; What deluges of blood! what waste of life!

How will the mighty struggle finish?--how?-- Thank heaven! 'tis o'er,--the French, driven back, retire; Again I breathe--more freely I respire.

Lo! Bulow with the Prussian force appears!

The British Chief with joy his cannon hears, And, flush'd with confidence, exulting cries, We'll conquer yet; advance, my friends, advance!

Shouting they spring upon their enemies; See, Wellington! the great Napoleon flies!-- Britannia, yet again, has triumph'd over France!

DESCRIPTION OF A CONFLAGRATION.

'Tis night:--the busy, ceaseless noise of day No more is heard; the now-deserted-streets Lie dark and silent;--London's weary swarms Rest in profound repose. Hark! a loud cry Frightens the silence;--'tis the cry of fire!

I hear the dissonance of rattling wheels, The tread of hasty feet, the doleful sigh Of sympathy, and terror's thrilling shriek:-- O mercy heaven!--

Behold the fiery Pest!

See, how the flames climb up the lofty walls, Involve their prey, and greedily devour: The crowd exert their efforts to controul The spreading bane; some labour to supply The numerous engines; others bear aloft The pliant tubes, guiding their watery store Amid the fiercer fire; on ladders some Ascending, scale the walls, and undeterr'd, Their dangerous office ply; some wildly haste To save their properties: 'tis bustle all, And noisy tumult. Doubtful for a time The strife remains; where'er the Burning winds His flamy spires, the well-directed streams, Incessant spouting, damp the sickening flames, Repelling their advance; but, oft repulsed, As oft they rally with recruited strength: Alternate in the mind rise hope and fear.

Tumbles a roof with clattering noise, the sky Lightens, a burst of clamour!--all is hush'd In awful stillness, save that from beneath The ruins fall'n is heard a muttering sound, As if the Demon of the element In indignation menaced dire revenge.

Ah! now, unchain'd by some mysterious Power, Some Fiend of air, in league with That of fire, The wind begins to howl; its breath awakes The sleepy flames;--loud and more loud it howls, And rushes on them with collected might; Before the driving spirit burst the flames In a redoubled tempest, and deride Opposing man. See! how they proudly toss Their many heads on high, and through the vault Of darkness fling a sad, malignant day: Look! with what fury, what resistless rage, From street to street the fiery Deluge pours His rapid billows, swallowing everything In horrible destruction; lowly roofs, And gorgeous mansions, lofty spires and domes Capacious, on whose fair, majestic tops, As on her throne exalted, Art a.s.sumed Her n.o.blest honours, whose firm pillars braved Storms, and the still-corroding course of years; These, these with all their wealth, the various stores Of luxury and commerce, to the flames Abandon'd, sink an undefended prey, Swelling the general wreck; unheeded sink By their possessors, flying for their lives: Cries, groans, laments, on every side resound.

Sudden a magazine of nitrous grain Bursts in a blazing column to the clouds; The dread explosion shakes the solid ground, And through the skies in lengthening thunder rolls: Driven by the furious overwhelming blast To distance round, the burning fragments fall On every side; see, see, yon ships catch fire, Their rigging's in a blaze; affrighted Thames Shrinks from the sight; his waters cast a gleam Portentous, dismal, like the light of h.e.l.l.

Before the Conflagration numbers fly Frighted, in throngs precipitate, to seek A refuge in the distant fields secure, Which, cover'd thick with victims of distress, Present a wretched world. There Youth, surprised By hard experience, learns, alas! too soon The destiny of Man; and from those eyes Where expectation and unclouded joy Serenely shone, the streams of sorrow flow: There helpless Age, robb'd of the scanty means A life of labour earn'd, driven from his home To wander, dest.i.tute, the vale of years, Yields to despondence, tears his h.o.a.ry locks, Falls on the ground, and eagerly implores Rest in the grave: there, gazing on the fires, The tender Mother stands,--her frenzied soul Glares from her look, her bosom heaves a groan, She hugs her crying infant to her heart, Despairing, lost: what countless forms of wo!

Lethargic some, and mute; some, giving loose To their distracted feelings, rave aloud In all the clamorous vehemence of grief.

The din subsides;--a voice, distinctly heard, A frantic voice exclaims, my child! my child!

My child is in the flames!--Oh! horrible!-- What succour? what resource? the roaring wind More fiercely blows, the Burning pours along, The skies are lighten'd, Uproar opens wide His thousand mouths, Danger and Ruin prowl At large with boundless license, all is doubt And consternation, one tempestuous sea Of wretchedness, one chaos of despair.

Seized with wild fear Imagination sees The elements broke loose, Time on the brink Of dread Eternity, with all the signs Of that tremendous period when the dead Shall rise to judgment--hush'd in solemn awe-- Listening the trump of doom.--

Thus raged the storm, Till the great G.o.d of heaven in mercy bade The wind be silent, bade the gathering clouds Pour down abundant rain; the raging Fires, In prompt obedience to the sovereign will Of their Creator, dwindled and expired.

TO SPRING.

Fairest and loveliest of the sun-born train That o'er the varying year alternate reign; Whose eye, soft-beaming with thy father's fire, Fond Nature woos with ever-fresh desire, Enchanting Spring! O let thy votary's lay Invite thy angel smile, thy genial sway!

Still do thy beauties, to my partial heart, Whene'er I gaze, superior joys impart: When winter's cloudy veil thou draw'st away } And, vested with the sun's mild, dewy ray, } First to the longing earth thy charms thou dost display; } Or when Aurora, to the lark's gay song, Full of thy spirit, lightly trips along; With joyful kisses greets the first-born flowers, And o'er them breathes thy warm, refreshing showers; Or when, on shadowy pillow in the west, Fann'd by thy gentlest Zephyrs into rest, Eve sweetly dozes, whilst, as in a dream, She sees the glimmerings of the solar beam O'er the dim landscape languishingly stray, On ocean's smiling face reflected play, Fade in the purple ether's darkening hues, And vernal peace and joy o'er earth diffuse.

More grateful strains, O Spring! thy favours claim, Shine on thy beauties, and endear thy name.

While Winter's winds thy new-born charms deface, And the young Year starves in his cold embrace, The Hours, by stealth advancing, bear away, And on thy lap, with smiles of pleasure, lay The shivering Babe; new vigour there he gains, And spreads thy various treasures o'er the plains.

The joyous Naiades, from their icy bands Unfetter'd, dance and warble o'er the lands; The Dryads feel thy genial breath, and raise Their heads, new-crown'd with leaves, and whisper praise; The plumy warblers wake their amorous strains; The herds and flocks sport o'er the fresh, green plains; Fancy and Hope return the mind to bless, A paradise she sees and dreams of happiness.

Come, then, indulgent Ruler of the year, Sweet Spring! to grateful Nature ever dear!

From the blest regions of Elysian day, Climes favour'd high with thy perennial sway, O deign to come! and let our raptured eyes View thee, as through a veil, in these obscurer skies.

Methinks, I see thee coming from afar, Thy beauty decks Apollo's mounting car; The tyrant of the north with dazzled sight Beholds, and, yielding, meditates his flight; His dread, petrific rod he long has broke, And freed glad Nature from his icy yoke; She lifts her head, and hails the approaching hour When she shall feel thy more propitious power.

O haste thy progress, and exert thy sway!

In all thy charms, on some thrice-hallow'd day, When the soft-whispering air to Fancy's ears Wafts the celestial music of the spheres, While Pleasures, Loves, and Graces round thee fly, Glide on a sun-beam down the clear, blue sky; Crown'd with a myrtle-wreath, begin thy reign; Bid lingering Winter fly with all his train; Pour forth thy favours o'er this western isle, And let each grateful eye reflect thy smile.

TO WINTER.

No longer Beauty's many-colour'd robe Adorns the autumnal scene; no longer play The Zephyrs with her tresses; she has fled To happier regions, and has left the year Naked and void of charms; the leafless woods Tremble no more with rapture at the voice Of harmony: ah! how is Nature changed!

Silent, and sad, she anxiously awaits Thy coming, mighty King! and, as the sun Less bright, less ardent, more and more declines Towards the horizon, with alarm she marks Thy shadow lengthening in the nightly shade And towering o'er her, prostrate as she lies, More threatening, more gigantic; till, at length, Boreas, thy harbinger, forth-rushing fierce, Tears from chill'd Autumn's head the withering Crown, And bl.u.s.tering loud in her affrighted ear, O Winter! tells thy terrible approach.

Behold! in awful majesty thou comest!

On huge, black clouds, that through the enc.u.mber'd sky, Before the northern blast, sail slowly on, Thou ridest sublime; aloft in ether towers Thy giant form; thy formidable frown Blackens the night; thy threatening voice, sent forth Upon the impetuous winds, affrights the world.

Yet dare I welcome thee, terrific Power!

Dread Winter, hail! thy terrors fill my soul With a delightful awe; I love to trace Thy varying scenes, the wonders of thy reign.

Thy Ministers await thy sovereign will, And, in the secret regions of the air, In cloudy magazines prepare thy stores Of snow, and rain, and hail. At thy command Frost, that invisible, mysterious Power, Breathes upon Nature, and thou see'st her soon An unresisting captive, bound in ice; Vainly she mourns, till, at thy bidding, Thaw With his damp, misty standard, from the south Comes creeping silently, and sets her free; She weeps for joy. Ah! now thou dost unchain The Demon of the tempest, to exert On tortured Nature thy tyrannic might; Fierce on the whirlwind's wing he rushes forth With dreadful bellowings, hurling all around Destructive deluges of rain, snow, hail, In wildest discord, and chaotic war Mingling earth, sea, and sky. All-potent Lord!

Dread Winter! though Sublimity appears Thy chief attendant, and partakes thy throne; Yet Beauty often visits thee, and dares, In many a scene, with the more powerful charms Of her majestic sister to combine Her pleasing graces: I delight to view Thy snowy robe of purest, glowing white, The clear, blue skies, the cheerful evergreen Amid the wintry desert, from whose boughs The little redbreast chirps; the trees and herbs With snow and h.o.a.rfrost fringed, to fancy's eye Presenting pictured shapes, and, when the sun Sheds o'er them his effulgence, sparkling keen With million living particles of light.

But with far n.o.bler transport I survey Thy nightly scene, O Winter! when by frost Refined and clear'd, the pure transpicuous air Through her thin, azure veil, to wondering man Displays the unclouded heavens, myriads of stars Shining in all their glory: at the view Rapt Contemplation, in her car of light, Expatiates in the interminable s.p.a.ce, Ranging from world to world, from sun to sun, O'erwhelm'd with wonder and astonishment, And sacred awe, till lifting up her eyes, She sees Religion, from the opening gate Of heaven itself, on her seraphic wings Smiling descend; she feels her power divine, And raptured hymns the great Creator's praise.

THE DESPERATION AND MADNESS OF GUILT.

In depth of loneliest wood, amid the din Of midnight storm and thunder, spoke Despair, While Horror, shuddering, heard that voice alone.

Oh! load of guilt! relentless misery!

Still, ever still the same where'er I fly; No peace, no hope, not one poor moment's glimpse Through all the blackness of eternity!

Monster of direst guilt! this mother's hand Murder'd my babe, my new-born innocent.

I seek not mercy, no!--long sought in vain While conscience prey'd upon my secret heart, Wasting its life in agonizing groans, And floods of scalding tears,--but now no more; Those pangs are past, this heart is wither'd, dead!

Changed all to crime, all rottenness and stench; 'Twould taint creation were it not confined.

Parch'd are these eyes, their sorrows turn'd to ice, A mountain of impenetrable ice, In whose unfathom'd centre lies my soul, Imprison'd, numb'd, buried in conscious death.

O could I cease to think! cease quite to be!

O could I live in torments! writhe in h.e.l.l!

Raptures to this! Rouse, rouse to life, my soul, In madness of despair, O burst thy tomb; Call G.o.d and devils to behold thy guilt, And blast thee. (_It lightens._) See, what sudden blaze! they come!

Welcome, O welcome! follow me, look there!

There lies my murder'd babe:--now strike!--avenge!

(_It thunders._) Overwhelming stroke!

(_She falls upon the ground insensible:-- at length, coming to herself_)-- Ah! am I conscious still?

Not blasted then?--does this one little spark Amidst a universe of solid gloom Still live? I'll try to quench it with my blood.

Come, dagger, pierce, pierce deep; I feel thy point; My blood flows fast, it animates my heart.

The gathering cloud of death grows thick and dark, It hangs oppressive on my swimming sight: See, see, the Spirit of my murder'd child Comes with a troop of demons to conduct My soul to h.e.l.l;--they seize me for their prey, They drag me down: Oh! horror! horror! oh!

(_She dies._)