ELEGIAC SONNETS AND OTHER POEMS I The partial Muse has from my earliest hours Smiled on the rugged path I'm doom'd to tread, And still with sportive hand has snatch'd wild flowers, To weave fantastic garlands for my head: But far, far happier is the lot of those 5 Who never learn'd her dear delusive art; Which, while it decks the head with many a rose, Reserves the thorn to fester in the heart. For still she bids soft Pity's melting eye Stream o'er the ills she knows not to remove, 10 Points every pang, and deepens every sigh Of mourning Friendship, or unhappy Love. Ah! then, how dear the Muse's favours cost, If those paint sorrow best--who feel it most!* ------------------------------ * "The well-sung woes shall soothe my pensive ghost; / He best can paint them who shall feel them most." Pope's "Eloisa to Abelard," 366th line. II Written at the close of spring The garlands fade that Spring so lately wove, Each simple flower which she had nursed in dew, Anemonies,* that spangled every grove, The primrose wan, and hare-bell mildly blue. No more shall violets linger in the dell, 5 Or purple orchis variegate the plain, Till Spring again shall call forth every bell, And dress with humid hands her wreaths again. Ah! poor Humanity! so frail, so fair, Are the fond visions of thy early day, 10 Till tyrant Passion, and corrosive Care, Bid all thy fairy colours fade away! Another May new buds and flowers shall bring; Ah! why has happiness--no second Spring? -------------------------- * Anemonies. *Anemony Nemeroso.* The wood Anemony. III To a nightingale* Poor melancholy bird--that all night long Tell'st to the Moon thy tale of tender woe; From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow, And whence this mournful melody of song? Thy poet's musing fancy would translate 5 What mean the sounds that swell thy little breast, When still at dewy eve thou leavest thy nest, Thus to the listening night to sing thy fate. Pale Sorrow's victims wert thou once among, Tho' now released in woodlands wild to rove? 10 Say--hast thou felt from friends some cruel wrong, Or died'st thou--martyr of disastrous love? Ah! songstress sad! that such my lot might be, To sigh, and sing at liberty--like thee! -------------------------------- * The idea from the 43rd Sonnet of Petrarch. *Secondo parte.* "Quel rosigniuol, che si soave piagne." IV To the moon Queen of the silver bow!--by thy pale beam, Alone and pensive, I delight to stray, And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream, Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way. And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light 5 Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast; And oft I think--fair planet of the night, That in thy orb, the wretched may have rest: The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go, Released by death--to thy benignant sphere; 10 And the sad children of Despair and Woe Forget, in thee, their cup of sorrow here. Oh! that I soon may reach thy world serene, Poor wearied pilgrim--in this toiling scene! V To the South Downs Ah! hills belov'd!--where once a happy child, Your beechen shades, "your turf, your flowers among,"* I wove your blue-bells into garlands wild, And woke your echoes with my artless song. Ah! hills belov'd!--your turf, your flowers remain; 5 But can they peace to this sad breast restore; For one poor moment soothe the sense of pain, And teach a breaking heart to throb no more? And you, Aruna!* --in the vale below, As to the sea your limpid waves you bear, 10 Can you one kind Lethean cup bestow, To drink a long oblivion to my care? Ah! no!--when all, e'en Hope's last ray is gone, There's no oblivion--but in death alone! ---------------------------- * "Whose turf, whose shades, whose flowers among." Gray. * The river Arun. VI To hope O Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes! How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn? For me wilt thou renew the wither'd rose, And clear my painful path of pointed thorn? Ah, come, sweet nymph! in smiles and softness drest, 5 Like the young Hours that lead the tender Year, Enchantress! come, and charm my cares to rest:-- Alas! the flatterer flies, and will not hear! A prey to fear, anxiety, and pain, Must I a sad existence still deplore? 10 Lo!--the flowers fade, but all the thorns remain, "For me the vernal garland blooms no more."* Come then, "pale Misery's love!" be thou my cure,* And I will bless thee, who, tho' slow, art sure. ------------------------------------------ * Pope's "Imitation of the first Ode of the fourth Book of Horace". * Shakspeare's *King John*. VII On the departure of the nightingale Sweet poet of the woods!--a long adieu! Farewel, soft minstrel of the early year! Ah! 'twill be long ere thou shalt sing anew, And pour thy music on "the Night's dull ear."* Whether on Spring thy wandering flights await,* 5 Or whether silent in our groves you dwell, The pensive Muse shall own thee for her mate,* And still protect the song she loves so well. With cautious step the love-lorn youth shall glide Thro' the lone brake that shades thy mossy nest; 10 And shepherd girls from eyes profane shall hide The gentle bird, who sings of pity best: For still thy voice shall soft affections move, And still be dear to Sorrow, and to Love! ----------------------------------- * Shakspeare. * Alludes to the supposed migration of the Nightingale. * "Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate. / Both them I serve, and of their train am I." Milton's "First Sonnet". VIII To spring Again the wood, and long-withdrawing vale, In many a tint of tender green are drest, Where the young leaves, unfolding, scarce conceal Beneath their early shade, the half-form'd nest Of finch or wood lark; and the primrose pale, 5 And lavish cowslip, wildly scatter'd round, Give their sweet spirits to the sighing gale. Ah! season of delight!--could aught be found To soothe awhile the tortured bosom's pain, Of Sorrow's rankling shaft to cure the wound, 10 And bring life's first delusions once again, 'Twere surely met in thee!--thy prospect fair, Thy sounds of harmony, thy balmy air, Have power to cure all sadness--but despair.* ------------------------------- * "To the heart inspires / Vernal delight and joy, able to drive / All sadness but despair." *Paradise Lost,* Fourth Book. IX Blest is yon shepherd, on the turf reclined, Who on the varied clouds which float above Lies idly gazing--while his vacant mind Pours out some tale antique of rural love! Ah! he has never felt the pangs that move 5 Th' indignant spirit, when with selfish pride, Friends, on whose faith the trusting heart rely'd, Unkindly shun th' imploring eye of woe! The ills they ought to soothe, with taunts deride, And laugh at tears themselves have forced to flow.* 10 Nor his rude bosom those fine feelings melt, Children of Sentiment and Knowledge born, Thro' whom each shaft with cruel force is felt, Empoison'd by deceit--or barb'd with scorn. ----------------------------------- * "And hard Unkindness' alter'd eye, / That mocks the tear it forced to flow." Thomas Gray. X To Mrs. G Ah! why will Mem'ry with officious care The long-lost visions of my days renew? Why paint the vernal landscape green and fair, When Life's gay dawn was opening to my view? 'Ah! wherefore bring those moments of delight, 5 When with my Anna, on the southern shore, I thought the future, as the present, bright? Ye dear delusions!--ye return no more! Alas! how diff'rent does the truth appear, From the warm picture youth's rash hand pourtrays! 10 How fades the scene, as we approach it near, And pain and sorrow strike--how many ways! Yet of that tender heart, ah! still retain A share for me--and I will not complain. XI To sleep Come, balmy Sleep! tired Nature's soft resort! On these sad temples all thy poppies shed; And bid gay dreams, from Morpheus' airy court, Float in light vision round my aching head!* Secure of all thy blessings, partial Power! 5 On his hard bed the peasant throws him down And the poor sea-boy, in the rudest hour, Enjoys thee more than he who wears a crown.* Clasp'd in her faithful shepherd's guardian arms, Well may the village-girl sweet slumbers prove; 10 And they, O gentle Sleep! still taste thy charms, Who wake to labour, liberty, and love. But still thy opiate aid dost thou deny To calm the anxious breast, to close the streaming eye. ---------------------------------- * "Float in light vision round the poet's head." Mason. * "Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast / Seal up the ship boy's eyes, and rock his brains / In cradle of the rude impetuous surge?" Shakspeare's *Henry IV*. XII Written on the sea shore.--October, 1784 On some rude fragment of the rocky shore, Where on the fractured cliff the billows break, Musing, my solitary seat I take, And listen to the deep and solemn roar. O'er the dark waves the winds tempestuous howl; 5 The screaming sea-bird quits the troubled sea: But the wild gloomy scene has charms for me, And suits the mournful temper of my soul.* Already shipwreck'd by the storms of Fate, Like the poor mariner, methinks, I stand, 10 Cast on a rock; who sees the distant land From whence no succour comes--or comes too late. Faint and more faint are heard his feeble cries, 'Till in the rising tide the exhausted sufferer dies. --------------------------------- * Young XXIX To Miss C--on being desired to attempt writing a comedy Would'st thou then have *me* tempt the comic scene Of gay Thalia? used so long to tread The gloomy paths of Sorrow's cypress shade; And the lorn lay with sighs and tears to stain? Alas! how much unfit her sprightly vein, 5 Arduous to try!--and seek the sunny mead, And bowers of roses, where she loves to lead The sportive subjects of her golden reign! Enough for me, if still to soothe my days, Her fair and pensive sister condescend 10 With tearful smile to bless my simple lays; Enough, if her soft notes she sometimes lend, To gain for me of feeling hearts the praise, And chiefly thine, my ever partial friend! XLIV Written in the church-yard at Middleton in Sussex Press'd by the Moon, mute arbitress of tides, While the loud equinox its power combines, The sea no more its swelling surge confines, But o'er the shrinking land sublimely rides. The wild blast, rising from the Western cave, 5 Drives the huge billows from their heaving bed; Tears from their grassy tombs the village dead,* And breaks the silent sabbath of the grave! With shells and sea-weed mingled, on the shore Lo! their bones whiten in the frequent wave; 10 But vain to them the winds and waters rave; *They* hear the warring elements no more: While I am doom'd--by life's long storm opprest, To gaze with envy on their gloomy rest. ------------------------------ * Middleton is a village on the margin of the sea, in Sussex, containing only two or three houses. There were formerly several acres of ground between its small church and the sea, which now, by its continual encroachments, approaches within a few feet of this half-ruined and humble edifice. The wall, which once surrounded the church-yard, is entirely swept away, many of the graves broken up, and the remains of bodies interred washed into the sea; whence human bones are found among the sand and shingles on the shore. LVII To dependence Dependence! heavy, heavy are thy chains, And happier they who from the dangerous sea, Or the dark mine, procure with ceaseless pains An hard-earn'd pittance--than who trust to thee! More blest the hind, who from his bed of flock 5 Starts--when the birds of morn their summons give, And waken'd by the lark--"the shepherd's clock,"* Lives but to labour--labouring but to live. More noble than the sycophant, whose art Must heap with taudry flowers thy hated shrine; 10 I envy not the meed thou canst impart To crown *his* service--while, tho' Pride combine With Fraud to crush me--my unfetter'd heart Still to the Mountain Nymph* may offer mine. ------------------------------- * Shakspeare. * The mountain goddess, Liberty. Milton. LXII Written on passing by moon-light through a village, while the ground was covered with snow While thus I wander, cheerless and unblest, And find in change of place but change of pain; In tranquil sleep the village labourers rest, And taste that quiet I pursue in vain! Hush'd is the hamlet now, and faintly gleam 5 The dying embers, from the casement low Of the thatch'd cottage; while the Moon's wan beam Lends a new lustre to the dazzling snow. O'er the cold waste, amid the freezing night, Scarce heeding whither, desolate I stray; 10 For me, pale Eye of Evening, thy soft light Leads to no happy home; *my* weary way Ends but in sad vicissitudes of care: I only fly from doubt--to meet despair! LXVII On passing over a dreary tract of country, and near the ruins of a deserted chapel, during a tempest Swift fleet the billowy clouds along the sky, Earth seems to shudder at the storm aghast; While only beings as forlorn as I, Court the chill horrors of the howling blast. Even round yon crumbling walls, in search of food, 5 The ravenous Owl foregoes his evening flight, And in his cave, within the deepest wood, The Fox eludes the tempest of the night. But to *my* heart congenial is the gloom Which hides me from a World I wish to shun; 10 That scene where Ruin saps the mouldering tomb, Suits with the sadness of a wretch undone. Nor is the deepest shade, the keenest air, Black as my fate, or cold as my despair. LXXVI To a young man entering the world Go now, ingenuous Youth!--The trying hour Is come: The World demands that thou shouldst go To active life: There titles, wealth and power May all be purchas'd--Yet I joy to know Thou wilt not pay their price. The base controul 5 Of petty despots in their pedant reign Already hast thou felt;* --and high disdain Of Tyrants is imprinted on thy soul.-- Not, where mistaken Glory, in the field Rears her red banner, be thou ever found; 10 But, against proud Oppression raise the shield Of Patriot daring--So shalt thou renown'd For the best virtues *live*; or that denied May'st die, as Hampden or as Sydney died! ------------------------------------- * This was not addressed to my son, who suffered with many others in an event which will long be remembered by those parents who had sons at a certain public school, in 1793, but to another young man not *compelled* as he was, in consequence of that dismission, to abandon the fairest prospects of his future life. .