The Minstrel; or the Progress of Genius Part 9

Thy shades, thy silence, now be mine, Thy charms my only theme; My haunt the hollow cliff, whose pine Waves o'er the gloomy stream, Whence the scared owl, on pinions grey, Breaks from the rustling boughs, And down the lone vale sails away To more profound repose.

O! while to thee the woodland pours Its wildly warbling song, And balmy from the bank of flowers The zephyr breathes along; Let no rude sound invade from far, No vagrant foot be nigh, No ray from Grandeur's gilded car, Flash on the startled eye.

But if some pilgrim through the glade, Thy hallowed bowers explore, O guard from harm his h.o.a.ry head, And listen to his lore; For he of joys divine shall tell, That wean from earthly woe, And triumph o'er the mighty spell, That chains this heart below.

For me, no more the path invites Ambition loves to tread; No more I climb those toilsome heights By guileful Hope misled; Leaps my fond fluttering heart no more To Mirth's enlivening strain; For present pleasure soon is o'er, And all the past is vain.

ELEGY.

Still shall unthinking man substantial deem The forms, that fleet through life's deceitful dream?

On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays, Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?

Till at Death's touch the fairy visions fly, And real scenes rush dismal on the eye; And, from Elysium's balmy slumber torn, The startled soul awakes, to think, and mourn.

O ye, whose hours in jocund train advance, Whose spirits to the song of gladness dance, Who flowery vales in endless view survey, Glittering in beams of visionary day; O, yet while Fate delays the impending woe, Be roused to thought, antic.i.p.ate the blow; Lest, like the lightning's glance, the sudden ill Flash to confound, and penetrate to kill; Lest, thus encompa.s.sed with funereal gloom, Like me, ye bend o'er some untimely tomb, Pour your wild ravings in Night's frighted ear, And half p.r.o.nounce Heaven's sacred doom severe.

Wise, beauteous, good! O every grace combined, That charms the eye, or captivates the mind!

Fair, as the floweret opening on the morn, Whose leaves bright drops of liquid pearl adorn!

Sweet, as the downy-pinioned gale, that roves To gather fragrance in Arabian groves!

Mild, as the strains, that, at the close of day, Warbling remote, along the vales decay!

Yet, why with these compared? What tints so fine, What sweetness, mildness, can be matched with thine?

Why roam abroad? Since still, to Fancy's eyes, I see, I see thy lovely form arise.

Still let me gaze, and every care beguile, Gaze on that cheek, where all the Graces smile; That soul-expressing eye, benignly bright, Where meekness beams ineffable delight; That brow, where Wisdom sits enthroned serene, Each feature forms, and dignifies the mein: Still let me listen, while her words impart The sweet effusions of the blameless heart, Till all my soul, each tumult charmed away, Yields, gently led, to Virtue's easy sway.

By thee inspired, O Virtue! Age is young, And music warbles from the faltering tongue: Thy ray creative cheers the clouded brow, And decks the faded cheek with rosy glow, Brightens the joyless aspect, and supplies Pure heavenly l.u.s.tre to the languid eyes: But when Youth's living bloom reflects thy beams, Resistless on the view the glory streams; Love, Wonder, Joy, alternately alarm, And Beauty dazzles with angelic charm.

Ah! whither fled! ye dear illusions, stay!

Lo, pale and silent lies the lovely clay!

How are the roses on that cheek decay'd, Which late the purple light of youth display'd!

Health on her form each sprightly grace bestow'd; With life and thought each speaking feature glow'd.

Fair was the flower, and soft the vernal sky; Elate with hope, we deemed no tempest nigh; When lo! a whirlwind's instantaneous gust Left all its beauties withering in the dust!

All cold the hand, that soothed Woe's weary head!

And quenched the eye, the pitying tear that shed!

And mute the voice, whose pleasing accents stole, Infusing balm into the rankled soul!

O Death! why arm with cruelty thy power, And spare the idle weed, yet lop the flower?

Why fly thy shafts in lawless error driven?

Is Virtue then no more the care of Heaven?

But peace, bold thought! be still my bursting heart!

We, not ELIZA, felt the fatal dart.

Scaped the dark dungeon, does the slave complain, Nor bless the hand that broke the galling chain?

Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn, On this dark wild condemned to roam forlorn?

Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow, O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw?

Disclosing dubious to the affrighted eye O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high, Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd, And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.

O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay, Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day, And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar, Where dangers threat, and fear alarms no more!

Transporting thought! here let me wipe away The tear of grief, and wake a bolder lay.

But ah! the swimming eye o'erflows anew, Nor check the sacred drops to pity due; Lo! where in speechless, hopeless anguish, bend O'er her loved dust, the Parent, Brother, Friend!

How vain the hope of man!--But cease the strain, Nor Sorrow's dread solemnity profane; Mixed with yon drooping mourners, on her bier In silence shed the sympathetic tear.

ODE TO HOPE.

I. 1.

O thou, who glad'st the pensive soul, More than Aurora's smile the swain forlorn, Left all night long to mourn Where desolation frowns, and tempests howl; And shrieks of woe, as intermits the storm, Far o'er the monstrous wilderness resound, And cross the gloom darts many a shapeless form, And many a fire-eyed visage glares around, O come, and be once more my guest!

Come, for thou oft thy suppliant's vow hast heard, And oft with smiles indulgent cheer'd, And soothed him into rest.

I. 2.

Smit by thy rapture-beaming eye, Deep flashing through the midnight of their mind, The sable bands combined, Where Fear's black banner bloats the troubled sky, Appalled retire. Suspicion hides her head, Nor dares th' obliquely gleaming eye-ball raise; Despair, with gorgon-figured veil o'erspread, Speeds to dark Phlegethon's detested maze.

Lo, startled at the heavenly ray, With speed unwonted Indolence upsprings, And, heaving, lifts her leaden wings, And sullen glides away.

I. 3.

Ten thousand forms, by pining Fancy view'd, Dissolve. Above the sparkling flood When Phoebus rears his awful brow, From lengthening lawn and valley low The troops of fen-born mists retire.

Along the plain The joyous swain Eyes the gay villages again, And gold-illumined spire; While, on the billowy ether borne, Floats the loose lay's jovial measure; And light along the fairy Pleasure, Her green robes glittering to the morn, Wantons on silken wing. And goblins all To the damp dungeon shrink, or h.o.a.ry hall, Or westward, with impetuous flight, Shoot to the desart realms of their congenial Night.

II. 1.

When first on Childhood's eager gaze Life's varied landscape, stretch'd immense around, Starts out of night profound, Thy voice incites to tempt th' untrodden maze.

Fond he surveys thy mild maternal face, His bashful eye still kindling as he views, And, while thy lenient arm supports his pace, With beating heart the upland path pursues: The path that leads, where, hung sublime, And seen afar, youth's gallant trophies, bright In Fancy's rainbow ray, invite His wingy nerves to climb.

II. 2.

Pursue thy pleasurable way, Safe in the guidance of thy heavenly guard, While melting airs are heard, And soft-eyed cherub forms around thee play: Simplicity, in careless flowers array'd, Prattling amusive in his accent meek; And Modesty, half turning as afraid, The smile just dimpling on his glowing cheek; Content and Leisure, hand in hand With Innocence and Peace, advance, and sing; And Mirth, in many a mazy ring, Frisks o'er the flowery land.

II. 3.

Frail man, how various is thy lot below!

To-day though gales propitious blow, And Peace, soft gliding down the sky, Lead Love along and Harmony, To-morrow the gay scene deforms; Then all around The thunder's sound Rolls rattling on through heaven's profound, And down rush all the storms.

Ye days, that balmy influence shed, When sweet Childhood, ever sprightly, In paths of pleasure sported lightly, Whither, ah, whither are ye fled!

Ye cherub train, that brought him on his way, O leave him not midst tumult and dismay; For now youth's eminence he gains: But what a weary length of lingering toil remains!

III. 1.

They shrink, they vanish into air.

Now Slander taints with pestilence the gale; And mingling cries a.s.sail, The wail of Woe, and groans of grim Despair.

Lo, wizard Envy from his serpent eye Darts quick destruction in each baleful glance; Pride, smiling stern, and yellow Jealousy, Frowning Disdain, and hagard Hate advance; Behold, amidst the dire array, Pale wither'd Care his giant-stature rears, And lo, his iron hand prepares To grasp its feeble prey.

III. 2.