But O! how alter"d was its sprightlier tone, When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, 70 Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm"d with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter"s call, to Faun and Dryad known!
The oak-crown"d Sisters, and their chaste-eyed Queen, 75 Satyrs and Sylvan Boys, were seen, Peeping from forth their alleys green: Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear; And Sport leapt up, and seized his beechen spear.
Last came Joy"s ecstatic trial: 80 He, with viny crown advancing, First to the lively pipe his hand addrest; But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best; They would have thought who heard the strain 85 They saw, in Tempe"s vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kiss"d the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round: 90 Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
O Music! sphere-descended maid, 95 Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom"s aid!
Why, G.o.ddess! why, to us denied, Lay"st thou thy ancient lyre aside?
As, in that loved Athenian bower, You learn"d an all commanding power, 100 Thy mimic soul, O Nymph endear"d, Can well recall what then it heard; Where is thy native simple heart, Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art?
Arise, as in that elder time, 105 Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime!
Thy wonders, in that G.o.dlike age, Fill thy recording Sister"s page-- "Tis said, and I believe the tale, Thy humblest reed could more prevail, 110 Had more of strength, diviner rage, Than all which charms this laggard age; E"en all at once together found, Cecilia"s mingled world of sound-- O bid our vain endeavours cease; 115 Revive the just designs of Greece: Return in all thy simple state!
Confirm the tales her sons relate!
VARIATION.
Ver.
30. What was thy delightful measure?
ODE ON THE DEATH OF THOMSON.
THE SCENE IS SUPPOSED TO LIE ON THE THAMES NEAR RICHMOND.
In yonder grave a Druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave; The year"s best sweets shall duteous rise To deck its poet"s sylvan grave.
In yon deep bed of whispering reeds 5 His airy harp[37] shall now be laid, That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, May love through life the soothing shade.
Then maids and youths shall linger here, And while its sounds at distance swell, 10 Shall sadly seem in pity"s ear To hear the woodland pilgrim"s knell.
Remembrance oft shall haunt the sh.o.r.e When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar, 15 To bid his gentle spirit rest!
And oft, as ease and health retire To breezy lawn, or forest deep, The friend shall view yon whitening[38] spire And "mid the varied landscape weep. 20
But thou, who own"st that earthy bed, Ah! what will every dirge avail; Or tears, which love and pity shed, That mourn beneath the gliding sail?
Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye 25 Shall scorn thy pale shrine glimmering near?
With him, sweet bard, may fancy die, And joy desert the blooming year.
But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide No sedge-crown"d sisters now attend, 30 Now waft me from the green hill"s side, Whose cold turf hides the buried friend!
And see, the fairy valleys fade; Dun night has veil"d the solemn view!
Yet once again, dear parted shade, 35 Meek Nature"s Child, again adieu!
The genial meads,[39] a.s.sign"d to bless Thy life, shall mourn thy early doom; Their hinds and shepherd-girls shall dress, With simple hands, thy rural tomb. 40
Long, long, thy stone and pointed clay Shall melt the musing Briton"s eyes: O! vales and wild woods, shall he say, In yonder grave your Druid lies!
VARIATION.
Ver.
21. But thou who own"st that earthly bed,
FOOTNOTES:
[37] The harp of aeolus, of which see a description in the Castle of Indolence. C.
[38] Richmond Church, in which Thomson was buried. C.
[39] Mr. Thomson resided in the neighbourhood of Richmond some time before his death.
ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSt.i.tIONS OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND;
CONSIDERED AS THE SUBJECT OF POETRY; INSCRIBED TO MR. JOHN HOME.
I.
Home, thou return"st from Thames, whose Naiads long Have seen thee lingering with a fond delay, "Mid those soft friends, whose hearts, some future day, Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song.[40]
Go, not unmindful of that cordial youth[41] 5 Whom, long endear"d, thou leavest by Levant"s side; Together let us wish him lasting truth, And joy untainted with his destined bride.
Go! nor regardless, while these numbers boast My short-lived bliss, forget my social name; 10 But think, far off, how, on the southern coast, I met thy friendship with an equal flame!
Fresh to that soil thou turn"st, where every vale Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand: To thee thy copious subjects ne"er shall fail; 15 Thou need"st but take thy pencil to thy hand, And paint what all believe, who own thy genial land.
II.
There must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill; "Tis Fancy"s land to which thou sett"st thy feet; Where still, "tis said, the fairy people meet, 20 Beneath each birken shade, on mead or hill; There, each trim la.s.s, that skims the milky store, To the swart tribes their creamy bowls allots; By night they sip it round the cottage door, While airy minstrels warble jocund notes. 25 There, every herd, by sad experience, knows How, wing"d with fate, their elf-shot arrows fly, When the sick ewe her summer food foregoes, Or, stretch"d on earth, the heart-smit heifers lie.
Such airy beings awe the untutor"d swain: 30 Nor thou, though learn"d, his homelier thoughts neglect; Let thy sweet muse the rural faith sustain; These are the themes of simple, sure effect, That add new conquests to her boundless reign, And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding strain. 35
III.
E"en yet preserved, how often mayst thou hear, Where to the pole the Boreal mountains run, Taught by the father, to his listening son, Strange lays, whose power had charm"d a Spenser"s ear.
At every pause, before thy mind possest, 40 Old Runic bards shall seem to rise around, With uncouth lyres, in many-colour"d vest, Their matted hair with boughs fantastic crown"d: Whether thou bidst the well taught hind repeat The choral dirge, that mourns some chieftain brave, 45 When every shrieking maid her bosom beat, And strew"d with choicest herbs his scented grave!
Or whether, sitting in the shepherd"s shiel,[42]
Thou hear"st some sounding tale of war"s alarms; When at the bugle"s call, with fire and steel, 50 The st.u.r.dy clans pour"d forth their brawny swarms, And hostile brothers met, to prove each other"s arms.
IV.
"Tis thine to sing, how, framing hideous spells, In Sky"s lone isle, the gifted wizard seer, Lodged in the wintry cave with Fate"s fell spear, 55 Or in the depth of Uist"s dark forest dwells: How they, whose sight such dreary dreams engross, With their own visions oft astonish"d droop, When, o"er the watery strath, or quaggy moss, They see the gliding ghosts unbodied troop. 60 Or, if in sports, or on the festive green, Their destined glance some fated youth descry, Who now, perhaps, in l.u.s.ty vigour seen, And rosy health, shall soon lamented die.
For them the viewless forms of air obey; 65 Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair: They know what spirit brews the stormful day, And heartless, oft like moody madness, stare To see the phantom train their secret work prepare.