The Poetical Works of Beattie, Blair, and Falconer Part 8

Ah, what have I to do with conquering kings, Hands drench'd in blood, and b.r.e.a.s.t.s begirt with steel?

To those, whom Nature taught to think and feel, Heroes, alas! are things of small concern; Could History man's secret heart reveal, And what imports a heaven-born mind to learn, Her transcripts to explore what bosom would not yearn?

36

"This praise, O Cheronean sage [3] is thine!

(Why should this praise to thee alone belong?) All else from Nature's moral path decline, Lured by the toys that captivate the throng; To herd in cabinets and camps, among Spoil, carnage, and the cruel pomp of pride; Or chant of heraldry the drowsy song, How tyrant blood o'er many a region wide, Rolls to a thousand thrones its execrable tide.

37

"Oh, who of man the story will unfold, Ere victory and empire wrought annoy, In that Elysian age misnamed of gold), The age of love, and innocence and joy, When all were great and free! man's sole employ To deck the bosom of his parent earth; Or toward his bower the murmuring stream decoy, To aid the floweret's long-expected birth, And lull the bed of peace, and crown the board of mirth?

38

"Sweet were your shades, O ye primeval groves!

Whose boughs to man his food and shelter lent, Pure in his pleasures, happy in his loves, His eye still smiling, and his heart content.

Then, hand in hand, Health, Sport, and Labour went.

Nature supplied the wish she taught to crave.

None prowl'd for prey, none watch'd to circ.u.mvent; To all an equal lot Heaven's bounty gave: No va.s.sal fear'd his lord, no tyrant fear'd his slave.

39

"But ah! the Historic Muse has never dared To pierce those hallow'd bowers: 'tis Fancy's beam Pour'd on the vision of the enraptured bard, That paints the charms of that delicious theme.

Then hail, sweet Fancy's ray! and hail, the dream That weans the weary soul from guilt and woe!

Careless what others of my choice may deem, I long, where Love and Fancy lead, to go And meditate on Heaven; enough of Earth I know."

40

"I cannot blame thy choice," the Sage replied, "For soft and smooth are Fancy's flowery ways.

And yet even there, if left without a guide, The young adventurer unsafely plays.

Eyes dazzled long by fiction's gaudy rays, In modest truth no light nor beauty find.

And who, my child, would trust the meteor blaze, That soon must fail, and leave the wanderer blind, More dark and helpless far, than if it ne'er had shined?

41

"Fancy enervates, while it soothes the heart; And while it dazzles, wounds the mental sight: To joy each heightening charm it can impart, But wraps the hour of woe in tenfold night.

And often, where no real ills affright, Its visionary fiends, an endless train, a.s.sail with equal or superior might, And through the throbbing heart, and dizzy brain, And shivering nerves, shoot stings of more than mortal pain.

42

"And yet, alas! the real ills of life Claim the full vigour of a mind prepared, Prepared for patient, long, laborious strife, Its guide experience, and truth its guard.

We fare on earth as other men have fared.

Were they successful? Let us not despair, Was disappointment oft their sole reward?

Yet shall their tale instruct, if it declare How they have borne the load ourselves are doom'd to bear.

43

"What charms the Historic Muse adorn, from spoils, And blood, and tyrants, when she wings her flight, To hail the patriot prince, whose pious toils, Sacred to science, liberty, and right, And peace, through every age divinely bright Shall shine the boast and wonder of mankind!

Sees yonder sun, from his meridian height, A lovelier scene than virtue thus enshrined In power, and man with man for mutual aid combined?

44

"Hail, sacred Polity, by Freedom rear'd!

Hail, sacred Freedom, when by law restrain'd!

Without you, what were man? A grovelling herd, In darkness, wretchedness, and want enchain'd.

Sublimed by you, the Greek and Roman reign'd In arts unrivall'd! O, to latest days, In Albion may your influence unprofaned To G.o.dlike worth the generous bosom raise, And prompt the sage's lore, and fire the poet's lays!

45

"But now let other themes our care engage.

For, lo, with modest yet majestic grace, To curb Imagination's lawless rage, And from within the cherish'd heart to brace, Philosophy appears! The gloomy race By Indolence and moping Fancy bred, Fear, Discontent, Solicitude, give place; And Hope and Courage brighten in their stead, While on the kindling soul her vital beams are shed!

46

"Then waken from long lethargy to life [4]

The seeds of happiness, and powers of thought; Then jarring appet.i.tes forego their strife, A strife by ignorance to madness wrought.

Pleasure by savage man is dearly bought With fell revenge; l.u.s.t that defies control, With gluttony and death. The mind untaught Is a dark waste, where fiends and tempests howl; As Phoebus to the world, is science to the soul.

47

"And Reason now through number, time, and s.p.a.ce, Darts the keen l.u.s.tre of her serious eye, And learns, from facts compared, the laws to trace, Whose long progression leads to Deity.

Can mortal strength presume to soar so high?

Can mortal sight, so oft bedimm'd with tears, Such glory bear?--for, lo! the shadows fly From Nature's face; confusion disappears, And order charms the eye, and harmony the ears!

48

"In the deep windings of the grove, no more The hag obscene and grisly phantom dwell; Nor in the fall of mountain-stream, or roar Of winds, is heard the angry spirit's yell; No wizard mutters the tremendous spell, Nor sinks convulsive in prophetic swoon; Nor bids the noise of drums and trumpets swell, To ease of fancied pangs the labouring moon, Or chase the shade that blots the blazing orb of noon.

49

"Many a long lingering year, in lonely isle, Stunn'd with the eternal turbulence of waves, Lo! with dim eyes, that never learn'd to smile, And trembling hands, the famish'd native craves Of Heaven his wretched fare; shivering in caves, Or scorch'd on rocks, he pines from day to day; But Science gives the word; and, lo! he braves The surge and tempest, lighted by her ray, And to a happier land wafts merrily away!

50

"And even where Nature loads the teeming plain With the full pomp of vegetable store, Her bounty, unimproved, is deadly bane: Dark woods and rankling wilds, from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, Stretch their enormous gloom; which to explore [5]