Perhaps, indifference has not chill'd it, TO CARA, ON THE DAWNING OF A NEW YEAR'S DAY. WHEN midnight came to close the year, We sigh'd to think it thus should take The hours it gave us-hours as dear As sympathy and love could make But, CARA, when the dawn was nigh As mortal as ever were tasted or press'd! Is the fiction they dream to the truth that they know. Than written, with HARVEY, whole volumes upon it? No, no-but for you, my invisible love, I will swear, you are one of those spirits that rove 1 This and the subsequent poem have appeared in the public prints. And like you, a legitimate child of the spheres, Inhaling for ever your song and your sigh! care I might sometimes converse with my nymph of the air, And turn with disgust from the clamorous crew, Oh! come and be near me, for ever be mine, You shall come to my pillow and tell me of love, PEACE AND GLORY. WHERE now is the smile that lighten'd Must the bay be pluck'd again? Passing hour of sunny weather, Lovely in your light awhile, Peace and Glory, wed together, Wander'd through the blessed isle; When the timid maid would listen To be the theme of every hour By one whose heart, though vain and wild, Can proudly still aspire to know Of a lone weary wanderer's heart; Can give thee one faint gleam of joy, And though that heart be dead to mine, Of something I should long to warm, SONG. TAKE back the sigh, thy lips of art Or bloom to make a rival blest! Take back the vows that, night and day, My heart receiv'd, I thought, from thine; Yet, no-allow them still to stay; They might some other heart betray, As sweetly as they've ruin'd mine! A BALLAD. THE LAKE OF THE DISMAL SWAMP. WRITTEN AT NORFOLK, IN VIRGINIA. "They tell of a young man who lost his mind upon the death of a girl he loved, and who, suddenly disappearing from his friends, was never afterwards heard of. As he had frequently said, in his ravings, that the girl was not dead, but gone to the Dismal Swamp, it is supposed he had wandered into that dreary wilderness, and had died of hunger or been lost in some of its dreadful morasses."-Anon. "La Poésie a ses monstres comme la nature." D'Alembert "THEY made her a grave, too cold and damp For a soul so warm and true; And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,' Where, all night long, by a fire-fly lamp, She paddles her white canoe. "And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see, And when on the earth he sunk to sleep, If slumber his eyelids knew, He lay, where the deadly vine doth weep The flesh with blistering dew! And near him the she-wolf stirr'd the brake, And the copper-snake breath'd in his ear, Till he starting cried, from his dream awake, "Oh! when shall I see the dusky Lake, And the white canoe of my dear?" Till he hollow'd a boat of the birchen bark, Far he follow'd the meteor spark, "י! The wind was high and the clouds were dark, But oft from the Indian hunter's camp 1 The Great Dismal Swamp is ten or twelve miles distant from Norfolk, and the lake in the middle of it (about seven miles long) is called Drummond's Pond. Are seen, at the hour of midnight damp, EPISTLE III. TO THE MARCHIONESS DOWAGER OF D-LL. FROM BERMUDA, JANUARY 1804. LADY, where'er you roam, whatever beam Of bright creation warms your mimic dream; Whether you trace the valley's golden meads, Where mazy Linth his lingering current leads ;' Enamour'd catch the mellow hues that sleep, At eve on Meillerie's immortal steep; Or musing o'er the Lake, at day's decline, Mark the last shadow on the holy shrine,2 Where, many a night, the soul of Tell complains Of Gallia's triumph and Helvetia's chains; Oh! lay the pencil for a moment by, Turn from the tablet that creative eye, And let its splendour, like the morning ray Upon a shepherd's harp, illume my lay! Yet, Lady! no-for song so rude as mine, Chase not the wonders of your dream divine; Still, radiant eye! upon the tablet dwell; Still, rosy finger! weave your pictur'd spell; And, while I sing the animated smiles Of fairy nature in these sun-born isles, Oh! might the song awake some bright design, Inspire a touch, or prompt one happy line, Proud were my soul, to see its humble thought On painting's mirror so divinely caught, And wondering Genius, as he learn'd to trace The faint conception kindling into grace, Might love my numbers for the spark they threw, And bless the lay that lent a charm to you. Have you not oft, in nightly vision, stray'd Where Virtue wakened with elysian breeze, 1 Lady D., supposed, was at this time still in Switzerand, where the powers of her pencil must have been frequently awakened. 2 The chapel of William Tell, on the Lake of Lucerne. 3 M. Gebelin says, in his Monde Primitif, "Lorsque StraDon crut que les anciens théologiens et Poëtes placaient les Champs Elysées dans 'es Isles de l'Océan Atlantique, il n'entendit rien à leur doctrine." M. Gebelin's supposition, I have no doubt, is the more correct; but that of Strabo is, in the present instance, most to my purpose. Not all the charm, that ethnic fancy gave The morn was lovely, every wave was still, Sweet airy being ! who, in brighter hours, 1 Nothing can be more romantic than the little harbour of St. George. The number of beautiful islets, the singular clearness of the water, and the animated play of the graceful little boats, gliding for ever between the islands, and seeming to sail from one cedar grove into another, form, all together, the sweetest miniature of nature that can be imagined. 2 This is an illusion which, to the few who are fanciful enough to indulge in it, renders the scenery of Bermuda particularly interesting. In the short but beautiful twilight of their spring evenings, the white cottages, scattered over the islands, and but partially seen through the trees that surround them, assume often the appearance of little Grecian temples, and fancy may embellish the poor fisherman's hut with columns which the pencil of Claude might imitate. I had one favourite object of this kind in my walks, which the hospitality of its owner robbed me of, by asking me to visit him. He was a plain good man, and received me well and warmly, but I never could turn his house into a Grecian temple again. 3 Ariel. Among the many charms which Bermuda has for a poetic eye, we cannot for an instant forget that it is the scene of Shakspeare's Tempest, and that here he conjured up the "delicate Ariel," who alone is worth the whole heaven of ancient mythology. The sunny wave, the bower, the breezy hill, THE GENIUS OF HARMONY. AN IRREGULAR ODE. Ad harmoniam canere mundum. Cicero de Nat. Deor. Lib. 3. There lies a shell beneath the waves, Echoed the breath that warbling sea-maids breath'd; From the white bosom of a syren fell, As once she wander'd by the tide that laves It bears Upon its shining side, the mystic notes The genii of the deep were wont to swell, When heaven's eternal orbs their midnight music roll'd! Oh! seek it, wheresoe'er it floats; And, if the power Of thrilling numbers to thy soul be dear, When Luna's distant tone falls faintly on his ear!2 That, through the circle of creation's zone, 1 In the "Historie Naturelle des Antilles," there is an account of some curious shells, found at Curacoa, on the back of which were lines, filled with musical characters, so distinct and perfect, that the writer assures us a very charming trio was sung from one of them. "On le nomme musical, parce qu'il porte sur le dos des lignes noirâtres pleines de notes, qui ont une espèce de clé pour les mettre en chant, de sorte que l'on dirait qu'il ne manque que la lettre à cette tablature naturelle. Ce curieux gentilhomme (M. du Montel) rapporte qu'il en a vu qui avaient cinq lignes, une clé et des notes, qui formaient un accord parfait. Quelqu'un y avait ajouté la lettre, que la nature avait oubliée, et la faisait chanter en forme de trio, dont l'aire était fort agréable." Chap. 19. Art. 11. The author adds, a poet might imagine that these shells were used by the syrens at their concerts. 2 According to Cicero, and his commentator, Macrobius, the lunar tone is the gravest and faintest on the planetary heptachord. "Quam ob causam summus ille cœli stellifer cursus, cujus conversio est concitatior, acuto et excitato movetur sono: gravissimo autem hic lunaris atque infimus." -Somn. Scip. Because, says Macrobius, "spiritu ut in extremitate languescente jam volvitur, et propter angustias quibus penultimus orbis arctatur impetu leniore convertitar."-In Somn. Scip. Lib. 2. Cap. 4. It is not very easy to understand the ancienta in their musical arrangement of the heavenly bodies. See Ptolem. Lib. 3. Leone Hebreo, pursuing the idea of Aristotle, that the heavens are animal, attributes their harmony to perfect and reciprocal love. "Non però manca fra loro il perfetto e reciproco amore: la causa principale, che ne mostra il loro amore, è la lor amicizia harmoniaca e la concordanza, che perpetuamente si trova in loro."-Dialog. 2. di Amore, p. 58. This "reciproco amore" of Leone is the OTS of the ancient Empedocles, who seems, in his Love and Hate af the Elements, to have given a glimpse of the principles Where matter darkles or where spirit beams; Murmuring o'er beds of pearl; Of the sun's arrow through an evening sky," Oh! thou shalt own this universe divine That I respire in all, and all in me, Welcome, welcome mystic shell! O'er the cold bosom of the ocean wept," Hath in the waters slept! With the bright treasure to my choral sky, Walks o'er the great string of my Orphic Lyre, The winged chariot of some blissful soul!" Oh, son of earth! what dreams shall rise for thee! Beneath Hispania's sun, Thou'lt see a streamlet run, Which I have warm'd with dews of melody; Down the still current, like a harp it sighs! of attraction and repulsion. See the fragment to which I allude in Laertius, Αλλοτε μεν φιλότητα, συνερχομεν. κ.τ Lib. 8. Cap. n. 12. 1 Leucippus, the atomist, imagined a kind of vortices in the heavens, which he borrowed from Anaxagoras, and possibly suggested to Descartes. 2 Heraclides, upon the allegories of Homer, conjectures that the idea of the harmony of the spheres originated with this poet, who in representing the solar beams as arrows, supposes them to emit a peculiar sound in the air. 3 In the account of Africa which d'Ablancourt has translated, there is mention of a tree in that country, whose branches when shaken by the hand produce very sweet sounds. "Le même auteur (Abenzégar) dit, qu'il y a uncertain arbre, qui produit des gaules comme d'osier, et qu'en les prenant à la main et les branlant, elles font une espèce d'harmonie fort agréable," etc. etc.-L'Afrique de Marmol. 4 Alluding to the extinction, or at least the disappearance of some of those fixed stars, which we are taught to consider as suns, attended each by its system. Descartes thought that our earth might formerly have been a sun, which became obscured by a thick incrustation over its surface. This probably suggested the idea of a central fire. 5 Porphyry says, that Pythagoras held the sea to be a tear. Tv JATTY MAY xxx sx sxxpuor. De Vit, and some one else, if I mistake not, has added the planet Saturn as the source of it. Empedocles, with similar affectation, called the sea "the sweat of the earth" parα TAS 7ns. See Rittershusius upon Porphyry, Num. 41. 6 The system of harmonized orbs was styled by the ancients, the Great Lyre of Orpheus, for which Lucian accounts, η δε Λύρη επταμιτος ενσα την των κινημένων αστρων αρμονίαν συνεβάλλετο, κ. τ. λ. in Astrolog. Η Διοίλο ψυχής ισαριθμός τους αστροις, ένειμε 9' εκαστ την προς εκαστον, και έμβιβάσας ΩΣ ΕΙΣ ΟΧΗΜΑ. Για ton. Timaus. 8 This musical river is mentioned in the romance of Achilles Tatius. ETI TOTEμN *** v 88 2××02 JEANS TH vdaros ACANTOS. The Latin version, in supplying the hia tus, which is in the original, has placed the river in Hispania. "In Hispania quoque fluvius est, quem primo as pectu," etc. etc.# A liquid chord in every wave that flows, And I will send thee such a godlike dream, And, looking to the orient dim, Watch'd the first flowing of that sacred fount, What pious ecstasy Wafted his prayer to that eternal Power, Whose seal upon this world imprest Or, dost thou know what dreams I wove, From every earthly chain, From wreaths of pleasure and from bonds of pain, Drank at the source of nature's fontal number,* The stars of song, Heaven's burning minstrelsy! I swear By the great diadem that twines my hair, 1 These two lines are translated from the words of Achilles Tatius. Εαν γαρ ολίγος ανεμος εις τας δίνας εμπέση, το μεν ύδωρ ως χορδή κρύεται, το δε πνεύμα το υδατος πλεκ προν γίνεται το ρεύμα δε ως κιθαρα λαλει. Lib. 2. 2 Orpheus. 3 They called his lyre αρχαιότροπον επτάχορδον Ορφεως. See a curious work by a professor of Greek at Venice, entitled" Hebdomades, sive septem de septenario libri." Lib. 4. Cap. 3. p. 177. 4 Eratosthenes, telling the extreme veneration of Orpheus for Apollo, says that he was accustomed to go to the Pangæan mountain at day-break, and there wait the rising of the sun, that he might be the first to hail its beams. ET!γειρόμενος το της νυκτός, κατά την εωθινήν επι το όρος το καλεμένου Παγγαίον, προσεμενε τας ανατολας, ίνα ίδη τον Ηλιον πρωτον. Καταστερισμ. 24. 5 There are some verses of Orpheus preserved to us, which contain sublime ideas of the unity and magnificence of the Deity. As those which Justin Martyr has produced: Ουτός μεν χαλκείον ες ερανόν εστήρικται Χρυσείω ενι χρόνω, κ. τ. λ. Ad Græc. cohortat. It is thought by some, that these are to be reckoned amongst the fabrications which were frequent in the early times of Christianity. Still it appears doubtful to whom we should impute them; they are too pious for the Pagans, and too poetical for the Fathers. 6 In one of the Hymns of Orpheus, he attributes a figured seal to Apollo, with which he imagines that deity to have stamped a variety of forms upon the universe. Mingling their beams In a soft Iris of harmonious light, Oh, mortal! such shall be thy radiant dreams! EPISTLE IV. TO GEORGE MORGAN, ESQ. of Norfolk, VIRGINIA.' FROM BERMUDA, JANUARY 1804. ΚΕΙΝΗ Δ' ΗΝΕΜΟΕΣΣΑ ΚΑΙ ΑΤΡΟΠΟΣ, ΟΙΑ Θ' ΑΛΙΠ Callimach, Hymn. in Del. v. ii. OH! what a tempest whirl'd us hither!? Yet think not, George, that Fancy's charm And e'en our haughty main-mast bow'd! The casket where my memory lays Which time has sav'd from ancient days! I wrote it while my hammock swung, Cassiodorus, whose idea I may be supposed to have borrowed, says, in a letter upon music to Boetius, "Ut diade ma oculis, varia luce gemmarum, sic cythara diversitate soni, blanditur auditui." This is indeed the only tolerable thought in the letter. Lib. 2. Variar. Norfolk. His talents are worthy of a much higher sphere, 1 This gentleman is attached to the British consulate at but the excellent dispositions of the family with whom he resides, and the cordial repose he enjoys amongst some of the kindest hearts in the world, should be almost enough to atone to him for the worst caprices of fortune. The consul himself, Colonel Hamilton, is one among the very few instances of a man, ardently loyal to his king, and yet beloved by the Americans. His house is the very temple of hospitality, and I sincerely pity the heart of that stranger, who, warm from the welcome of such a board, and with the taste of such Madeira still upon his lips, "col dolce in bocca," could sit down to write a libel on his host, in the true spirit of a modern philosophist. See the Travels of the Duke de 7 Alluding to the cave near Samos, where Pythagoras devoted the greater part of his days and nights to medita-la Rochefoucault Liancourt, Vol. 2. tion and the mysteries of his philosophy. Jamblich. de Vit. 2 We were seven days on our passage from Norfolk to This, as Holstenius remarks, was in imitation of the Magi. Bermuda, during three of which we were forced to lay-to 8 The tetractys, or sacred number of the Pythagoreans, in a gale of wind. The Driver, sloop of war, in which I on which they solemnly swore, and which they called ya went, was built at Bermuda, of cedar, and is accounted an asvas quos, "the fountain of perennial nature." Lucian excellent sea-boat. She was then commanded by my very has ridiculed this religious arithmetic very finely in his Sale | regretted friend, Captain Compton, who in July last was of Philosophers. killed aboard the Lilly, in an action with a French priva9 This diadem is intended to represent the analogy beteer. Poor Compton! he fell a victim to the strange imtween the notes of music and the prismatic colours. We policy of allowing such a miserable thing as the Lilly to find in Plutarch a vague intimation of this kindred harmony remain in the service: so small, so crank, and unmanagein colours and sounds. O TO XI axoy, MIT Uns Table, that a well-manned merchantman was at any time CMI OWTES THE PROVINE Siivo. De Musica. match for her. |