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Ode to the Spirit of Freshness.
[From the enlarged Edition of Polwhele's Inflo*xce of Local
Attachment with respect to Home, &c]
OTHOU, the daughter of the vernal dew,
That, glistering to the morn with pearly light,
The gentle Aura woo'd
Beside a dripping cave;
There, midst the blush of roses, won the nymph
Todalliance, as in sighs she whispered love;
There saw thee born, as May
Unclos'd her laughing eye;
Spirit of Freshness, hail! Atthis dim hour
Wbile, streak'd with recent grey, the dawn appears,
Where sport thy humid steps,
Ambrosial essence, say?
Haply, thy slippers glance aloag my path
Where frosted lilies veil their silver bells
Beneath the lively green
Of their full-shading leaves.
Or dost thou wander in the hoary field
Where, overhead, I view the cautious hare
Nibbling, while stillness reigns,
The light-sprent barley-blade?
Or dost thou hover o'er the hawthorn bloom,.
Where, in his nest of clay, the blackbird opes
His golden lids, and tunes
A soft-preluding strain;
Or, art tbou soaring mid the fleeced air
To meet the day-spring, where the plume-wet lark
Pours, sudden, his shrill note
Beneath a dusky cloup?
J see thee not—But lo! a vapory shape
That oft belies thy form, emerging slow
From that deep central gloom,
Rests on the moon-tipt wood;
Now, by a halo circled, sails along,
As gleams with icicles his azure vest,
Now shivers on the trees,
And feebly 6inks from sight.
'Tis cold I And lo! upon the whitening folds
Of the dank mist that fills the hollow dell, .
Chill damp withdrizzly locks
Glides in his lurid car;
Where a lone fane o'er those broad rushes nods
In slumberous torpor; save when flitting bat
Stirs the rank ivy brown
That clasps its oozing walls!
Yet, yet, descending from yon eastern tent,
Whose amber seems to kiss tbe wavy plain,
A form, half-viewless, spreads
^ A flush purpurea! round.
I know thee, Freshness! Lo! delicious green
Sprinkles thy path. The bursting buds above
With vivid moisture glow,
To mark thy gradual way.
The florets, opening, from tbeir young cups dart
The carmine blush, the yellow lustre clear:
And now entranc'd, I drink
Thy breath in llvfng balms!
And not a ryegrass trembles, but it grves
A scent salubrious: not a flower exhales
Its odours, but it breathes
O'er all a cool repose. Mild shadowy power! whilst now thy tresses bathed In primrose tints, the snowdrop's coldness sbed • On sky-blue hyacinths,
Thy chaste and simple wreath; While flows to Zephyr thy transparent robe Stealing the colours of tire lunar bow,
How short thy vestal reign
Amid the rosy lawn f
Yes! if thou mix tbe saffron hues that stream
From the bright orient with the roscid rays
Of yonder orb that hangs
A silvery drop, on high;
Or, if thou love, along the lucent sod,
To catch the sparkles of thy modest star;
With all the mingled beams
Heightening some virgin's bloom; Fleet as the shadow from tbe breded heaver. Brushing the gossamer, thy steps retire
Within the gelid gloom
Of thy green-vested oak.
There, as its ambient arch with airy sweep
Chequers the ground, thine * eyes of dewy light'
Pursue the turf that floats
In many a tremulous wave.
And now, retreating to the breery marge
Of the pure stream, thy ruby fingers rear
The new-blown flowers that wake
To tinge its crystal tide:
Or gently on thine alabaster urn
Thy head reclines, beneath some aged beech
That mid the crisped brook
Steeps its long-wreathed roots;
While from the cave where first thine essence sprung;,
Where the chaste Naiads rang'd their glittering span,
Ode for his Majesty's Birth-day.
[By Henry James Pve, Esq. Poet-laoreat.]
WHILE loud and near, round Britain's coasts,
The. low'ring storm of battle roars,
In proud array while numerous hosts
Insulting threat her happy shores,
No strains with peaceful descant blown
Now float around Britannia's throne —
The shouts from martial zeal that rise,
The fires that beam from Glory's eyes, »
The gword that manly Freedom draws.
In Freedom's patriot Monarch's cause,
Shall with an angel's voice display
How dear to Britain's sons their George's natal day.
Triumphant o'er the blue domain
Of hoarv Ocean's briny reign,
While Britain's navies boldly sweep
With victor prow the stonily deep,
Will Gallia's vanquish' I squadrons dare
Again to try the wat'ry war,
Again her floating castles brave,
Terrific on the bowling wave?
Or on the fragile bark adventure o'er,
Tempt her tempestuous seas, and scale her rocky shore?
Or should the wind's uncertain gale
Propitious swell the hostile sail;
Should thr dim m st, or midnight shade,
Invasion's threaten'd inroad aid,
Shall Britain, on her native strand,
Shrink Ir m a foe's inferior band?
She vows, by Gallia taught to yield
On Creci's and on Poictiers' field,
By Aguicourt's high trophy'd plain,
Pil'd with illustrious nobles slain,
By wondering Danube's distant flood,
And Blenheim's ramparts red with blood,
By chiefs on Minden's heaths who shone,
By recent fame at Lincelles won,
Her laurel'd brow she ne'er will veil,
Or shun the shock of fight, though numerous hosts assail.
Th'electric flame of glory runs
Impetuous through her hardy sons.
See! rushing from the farm and fold.
Her strains in Glory's lists enroll'd.
Though o'er the nations far and wide
Gallia may pour oppression's tide,
And. like Rome's tyrant race of yore,
O'er-run each tributary shore;
Yet, like the Julian chief, their hosts shall meet,
Untam'd resistance here, and foul defeat;
Shall, like Rome's rav'ning eagle, baffled fly
From Britain's fatal cliffs, the abode of Liberty.
Behold on Windsor's oak-fring'd plain,
The pride of Albion's sylvan reign,
Where oft the cheering hound and horn.
Have piere'd the listening ear of nv rnfr.
Rous'd by the clarion's warlike sound;'
The heroes tread the tented ground; .-_•
Where chiefs as brave as those of yore,--; ..
Who chivalry's brst honours worp, ■ "'.'l
What time fair knighthood's knee around
Th' embroider'd zone victorious Edward bound,
Shall by their monarch's throne a bulwark stand,
And guard in George's crown the welfare of the land.
The Hermit and his History.
[From Oberoit, a Poem, from the German of Wielakd, by WaLiam S.otuebt, Esq.]
FROM the last step as Hunn faint descends,
Gay smiles, like Paradise, thr lovely scene:
A nan before In in stands ot noble mien,
Below his breast his silver beard extends,
A gTdle broad around his body roli'd,
Confines his russet mantle's simple fold,
And a l'>ng rosary at his girdle'hung;
By such plain signs, these louely rocks among,
All may aread his state without conjecture bold.
Plain on his noble aspect shone confest,
Grandeur beneath a cowl that mildly gleam'd;
His eye a smile on all creation beam'd:
And tho' the touch of time had gentlv prest
His neck, soft,bow'd beneath the weight of years,
Sublimely lais'd to heaven, his brow appears
The shrine of peace; and like a sun gilt height,
Where never earthly mist obscur'd the light,
Above the stormy world its tranquil summit rears.
Time from bis features long had worn away
The rust of earth, and passion's gloomy frown:
He would not stoop to grasp a fallen crown,
Nor bend the sceptre of a world to sway.
Free from the vain desires that earth enthrall,
Free from vain terrors that mankind appal,
Untouch'd by pain, and unassail'd by fear,
To truth alone he turn'd his mental ear,
Alone to nature tun'd, and her sweet simple call.
Ere from the storm of life to peace restor'd,
He call'd himself Alonzo. Leon bore
The noble infant on her pleasant shore,
And rear'd him for the service of her lord.
And there with thousands like himself deceiv'd,
He chas'd the shades, still cheating, still believ'd,
That tempt the sight, yet still the touch elude;
And like the chemist's'stone in vain pursu'd,
Leave the fond wretch they lur'd in hopeless misery griev'd.
And when he thus had wasted golden youth
'Mid kingly smiles, and in the drunken mood
Of self-delusion drain'd his wealth and blood,
With zeal untbank'd, and unacknowledg'd truth,
1798. N In