As school the social heart, and ope the palm
To offices of mercy, Nor had we,
Of science reckless, from the lore refrain'd
Of him our common friend, who oft perchance
Had shar'd the sweet communion, blending still
(As who can blend like him!) wisdom profound
With social merriment, and manners bland,
And unassuming gay urbanity.
Such hours, were fate propitious to our wish,
Mary we might have shar'd; for we were form'd
Not of repulsive mould; we could have learn'd
The lore of friendship not reluctantly,
Or Nature's instincts fail me: for thou seem'st,
In beaming feature and in budding form
Of virgin loveliness, even such as she,
My heart's true partner, in her vernal hour,
When her soft bloom was opening, and my spring
Was yet unfaded; and methinks, sweet maid!
That I could love thee, with a father's heart,
For these thy kindred graces; nor would'st thou,
Tho' in a father's love already blest,
Reject the pure affiance. Sweetest Maid!
That in some other region we could meet,
(If such blest region of the peopled earth
The venturous prow could find) or that the hour
Of Virtue's wish'd Millennium were arriv'd,
Where feuds and strife and Envy's bitter wrongs,
And wanton Calumny's soul-vexing wrath
Marr'd not the social compact! In such realm,—
Or such regeneration, we would be
Of the same family and kindred minds
Dwelling in kindred intercourse, we'd talk
Of things gone by: of White Hill's social roof,
And the kind circle where we chanc'd to meet,
And wish'd the chance more frequent; and of him
My dearest friend! thy not reluctant guide
Thro' the bright maze of science: nor would she
Stay of my heart, and balm of every woe!
Her matron ear to such sweet talk refuse,
Or fail, with matron sympathy, to view
Thy softer charms, once her's; now better chang'd
For the firm dignity of sense matur'd,
And fix'd maternal grace. Such change be thine:
And may the happy youth to whom thy choice
Shall yield the virgin treasure of thy heart,
Esteem like me thy worth!-Esteem like me!
But with a stronger fervour; such as youth
And mutual years and the select desire
Of hearts consenting can alone inspire:
The husband-lover of thy matron years.
GLASGOW, MARCH 1804.
"Tis said, O most gracious Apollo,
That Poets thou lov'st to befriend,
Now this trade I'm determin'd to follow,
So low at thy altar I bend.
But though thou art a Patron most able,
I'm a suitor so modest I vow,
That give but two Bays in
I won't ask for one on my brow.
EMBLEM of Happiness, not bought nor sold,
Accept this modest Ring of Virgin Gold.
Love, in the small but perfect circle trace;
And Duty, in its soft tho' strict embrace.
Plain, precious, pure, as best becomes the Wife,
Yet firm to bear the frequent rubs of life:
Connubial life disdains a fragile toy,
Which rust can tarnish, or a touch destroy;
Nor much admires, what courts the gen'ral gaze,
The dazzling diamond's meretricious blaze;
That hides, with glare, the anguish of a Heart,
By Nature hard, but polish'd bright by art.
More to thy taste, the ornament that shows
Domestic Bliss, and without glaring, glows.
Whose gentle pressure serves to keep the Mind,
To all correct, to one discreetly kind-
Of simple elegance th' unconscious charm,
The holy amulet to keep from harm,
To guard at once and consecrate the shrine-
Take this dear Pledge-it makes and keeps thee mine.
PARAPHRASED FROM AN ITALIAN POET.
DESIGN'D for peace and soft delight,
For tender love and pity mild,
O! seek not thou the craggy height,
The howling main, the desert wild!
Stay in the shelter'd valley low,
Where calmly blows the fragrant air!
But shun the mountain's stormy brow,
For darken'd winds are raging there!
The Ruffian MAN endures the strife
Of Tempests fierce and surging Seas;
Ah! better guard thy transient life,
WOMAN, thou rosy Child of Ease!
Rash MAN, for Glory's fading wreath,
• Provokes his early timeless doom,
Braves every varied form of DEATH,
And desperate hastens to the tomb;
But thou, O Gentlest! what can rend
With cruel grief thy panting heart?
Nor Heaven, nor Man dost thou offend *,
What fancied woes thy fears impart ?
Ah, surely on thy primal day
Great NATURE smil'd in kindliest mood,
Suspended held the bloody fray,
And hush'd the wind, and smooth'd the flood!
While MAN, who lives a life of pain,
Was with a soul vindictive born,
Loud winds blew round him, and the rain
Beat furious on his wintry morn.
But thou, beneath a vernal sky,
What distant Tempest wakes thy fears?
Why does that soft, that trembling eye
Gleam thro' a crystal film of tears?
Stay in the vale !-no wild affright
Shall cross thy path nor sullen care † ;
But go not to the craggy height,
The dark, loud winds are raging there!
*Indeed!-what never? The Italian Poet flatters a little; his Paraphraser owns it; nor will the lordly Sex assert that female griefs are always imaginary.
+ This Poet's praise and prophecy are alike problematical; but Poets deal in fiction, and there is poetry in this Rhapsody.
|