Since riches, honours, genius fail
To soothe and satisfy the mind,
I turn to that Elysian vale
Of loves and graces, yet behind!-
There, Fancy best her scene arrays;
There, Nature at the heart-strings plays;
There, sweetly wild the varied Year;
There, Joy's extatic thrill, and April's cloudless tear!
Days of my Youth! too quickly fled!
Visions of Love and Bliss, adieu!
Oh! ill-acquir'd this aching head,
And Manhood's sorrowing heart, for you.
Intent no more with hopeful eye
The rapturous Future to descry!
But kindly veil'd the dark unknown,
Mine be the pleasures past, for mine the Past alone!
FROM THE GREEK
OF PHILODEMUS.
To thee, fair Beauty, taught by Love, I bring
A chaplet, wreath'd with all the sweets of spring;
Sweet blooms narcissus-sweet the blushing rose,
In modest hue, while many a violet glows;
Accept the wreath, thyself a fairer flower,
As soon the victim of the fatal hour.
IN yonder bower lies Pleasure sleeping, And near him mourns a blooming maid; He will not wake, and she sits weeping, When, lo! a stranger proffers aid.
His hurried step, his glance of fire,
The god of wishes wild declare,
"Wake, Pleasure, wake," exclaims Desire,
And Pleasure wakes to bless the fair.
But soon the maid, in luckless hour,
Desire asleep is doom'd to view;
"Try, Pleasure, try, she cries, your power,
And wake Desire, as he 'woke you."
Fond girl, thy prayer exceeds all measure,
Distinct his province each must keep,
Desire shall ever wait on Pleasure,
And Pleasure lull Desire to sleep.
TO HENRY FUSELI, ESQ. R.A.
On his Series of Pictures from the Poetical Works
SPIRIT of him who wing'd his daring flight
Tow'rds the pure confines of primæval light,
Say, whilst this nether world thy powers confin'd,
Weak child of dust, frail offspring of mankind,
Thy station'd barrier this terrestrial mound,
Th' incumbent vault of Heav'n thine upward bound,
Thy means the common energies of man,
Thy life a shadow, and thy years a span,
How could'st thou, struggling with opposing Fate,
Burst thro' the limits of this mortal state?
Thence, soaring high, pursue, with stedfast gaze,
The opening wonders of th' empyreal blaze,
Where countless Seraphs pour, in burning zone,
Concentric glories round th' eternal throne?
Or hear, and hearing live, the dread alarms
Of heavenly war, and Cherubim in arms?
See in th' abyss the proud apostate hurl'd,
And rising into light the infant world?
Fav'rite of Heaven! 'twas thine on mortal eyes
To pour these visions, rich with rainbow dyes,
Peopling the void of space with forms unseen,
Rising from being to what might have been !-
Nor he not breathes a portion of thy fire,
Who" bids the pencil answer to the lyre;"
Marks the bright phantoms at their proudest height,
And with determin'd hand arrests their flight;
Bids shadowy forms substantial shape assume,
And Heaven's own hues in mortal labours bloom.
For toils like these, whate'er the meed divine,
That glorious meed, my Fuseli, is thine,
Who first to Truth's embodied fulness wrought
The glowing outline of the Poet's thought.
Artist sublime! whose pencil knows to trace
The early wonders of thy kindred race!
Not thine to search th' historian's scanty page,
The brief memorial of a fleeting age;
Not thine to call, from Time's surrounding gloom,
High deeds of cultur'd Greece, or conqu'ring Rome;
Not thine, with temporary themes to move,
Of Hope, Aversion, Pity, Rage, or Love.-
Beyond whate'er the Drama's powers can tell,
Beyond the Epic's high impetuous swell,
Alike by clime and ages unconfin'd,
Thou strik'st the chords that vibrate on mankind;
Op'st the dread scenes that Heaven suspensive ey'd,
A world created, or a world destroy'd;
Recall'st the joys of Eden's happier prime,
Whilst life was yet unconscious of a crime,
Whilst Virtue's self could Passion's glow approve,
And Beauty slumber'd in the arms of Love;
Till, dread reverse! on man's devoted race
Th' insidious Serpent work'd the dire disgrace.
Then first, whilst Nature shudder'd with affright, Of Sin and Death was held th' incestuous rite; Then, first, o'er vanquish'd man began their reign, The fiends of Woe, the family of Pain! Disease the poison'd cup of Anguish fills, And opes the lazar-house of human ills!— See Frenzy rushes from his burning bed; See pining Atrophy declines his head; See mute Despair, that broods on woes unknown; And Melancholy gaze herself to stone!
Then, pouring forth from Hell's detested bound, Revenge, and Fraud, and Murder, stalk around; Till opening skies declare th' avenging God, And Mercy sleeps, whilst Justice waves the rod. Yet, whilst the bursting deluge from the earth Sweeps the rebellious brood of giant birth, One proud survivor rolls his vengeful eyes, And with last look the living God defies.
But now the waves their silent station keep, And vengeance slumbers o'er the mighty deep; Again, rejoicing o'er the firm-fix'd land,
The favour'd Patriarch leads his household band; With sacred incense bids his altars blaze,
And pours to God the living song of praise.
Thus, as th' immortal Bard his flight explores,
On kindred wing the daring Artist soars;
Undazzled shares with him Heaven's brightest glow,
Or penetrates the boundless depths below;
Or on the sloping sun-beam joys to ride,
Or sails amidst the uncreated void;
Imbibes a portion of his sacred flame,
Reflects his genius, and partakes his fame.
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