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"Men of England! who inherit
Rights that cost your sires their blood!
Has been proved on land and flood:
Hence but fruitless wreaths of fame,
Pageants! Let the world revere us
Bared in Freedom's holy cause.
"Yours are Hampden's, Russel's glory,
Worth a hundred Agincourts!
"We're the sons of sires that baffled
The Song of the Greeks is another instance :
"Again to the battle, Achaians!
Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance;
Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree,
It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free:
The pale dying crescent is daunted,
And we march that the foot-prints of Mahomet's slaves
And the sword shall to glory restore us.
"Ah! what though no succour advances,
Are stretch'd in our aid,—be the combat our own!
By our massacred patriots, our children in chains,
Or that dying, our death shall be glorious.
"A breath of submission we breathe not;
The sword that we've drawn we will sheathe not!
If they rule, it shall be o'er our asbes and graves;
To the charge!- Heaven's banner is o'er us.
"This day shall' ye blush for its story,
Or brighten your lives with its glory.
Our women, Oh, say, shall they shriek in despair,
Or embrace us from conquest with wreaths in their hair?
If a coward there be that would slacken
Till we've trampled the turban, and shown ourselves worth
As heroes descended from heroes.
"Old Greece lightens up with emotion
Her inlands, her isles of the Ocean;
Fanes rebuilt and fair towns shall with jubilee ring,
Our hearths shall be kindled in gladness,
That were cold and extinguish'd in sadness:
Whilst our maidens shall dance with their white-waving arms,
When the blood of yon Mussulman cravens
Shall have purpled the beaks of our ravens.";
If the genius of Rogers combines some of the characteristics of Goldsmith and Shenstone, Campbell is comparable to he is more sanguine, and looks forward, indulging his favourite Pleasures of Hope. Rogers is more dependent on the past, and reposes on his classic reminiscences.
Gray. The latter is more ambitious and ornate.parable to
The Pleasures of Hope and the Pleasures of Memory, are both poems of a lower grade than either Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, or Armstrong's Art of Health*. The didascalic of "Memory" is more elegant, that of " Hope” more
* In the " English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," these two poets are distinguished in the following manner :
"Come forth, oh, Campbell! give thy talents scope;
Who dares aspire, if thou must cease to hope?
eloquent. But both of them contain lines, and whole sections, insufferably tame and weak.
After all, the best poet is only admirable in passages. Let him expend his strength on these, and leave the others to their native negligence, if but for the sake of contrast. The good parts will have redeeming splendour for all the rest. It is better to be negligent in the diction than spiritless in the thought. A vigorous conception is good for itself, but words are valueless, except as signs of ideas. A profusion of jewels, and a weight of ornament, even on a fair invalid, are impertinent; but on a corse, they are derisive of the lifelessness which they illustrate and incumber. Sir T. Lawrence appears to empty his pallet on the back-ground of his portraits, and they shew more fleshy in consequence, and display better the exquisite finishing for which he is so remarkable. These observations are but partially applicable to the poets under comparison. Let them not complain that they are
And thou, melodious Rogers! rise at last,
Recall the pleasing memory of the past:
Assert thy country's honour, and thine own."
Now we are upon this subject, we would allude to some observations in our article on Lord Byron, by way of critique on the Deformed Transformed, in the first Part of our Review,-first volume.-It seems, that the stanza there quoted, beginning, "Yet if, as holiest men have deemed, there be," was originally written as follows:
"Frown not upon me, churlish priest! that I
I am no sneerer at thy phantasy ;
Thou pitiest me,-alas! I envy thee,
Of happy isles and happier tenants there:
I ask thee not to prove a Sadducee,
Still dream of Paradise, thou know'st not where,
But lov'st too well to bid thine erring brother share."
Against this stanza, it appears, his friend, Charles Dallas, upon the publication of the poem, made a decided stand, as intimating a disbelief in a future state. Lord Byron yielded to his intreaties, and substituted, for the objectionable stanza, the beautiful one which we quoted. Whatever was the meaning of the original stanza, the meaning of the present is clear; it was intended to announce a belief in a future state. The critics, therefore, were not justified in taking advantage of an hypothetical expression to infer a different design. The meaning of the stanza is now demonstrated by the singular fact, that it was substituted for one which had a sceptical tendency, and was constructed for the purpose of having a directly opposite inclination. Besides which, there is that in the human spirit which will asseverate the certainty of what many affect to doubt,—but only affect. The truth is substantiated in each man's own existence.
partially applicable. Even Achilles was vulnerable in the heel.
In Rogers' "Human Life," there was an evident change of style. The poet had conformed more to the practice of his contemporaries. The versification overflows in many places, and the sense is continued to the succeeding line. This very circumstance gives a charm to that poem,-a lightness and an airiness, the impression of which we shall not forget
"While Memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe."
Campbell's compositions have always occasionally indulged this licence. We know not that "Theodric" is more pregnant of instances than any former work of his; but instances are fre quent in the present poem.
"Theodric" is very inartificial in its plot, and defective in its denouement. It is a domestic tale. True poetry has always taken the colour of its times. Our times are essentially domestic. Still they are not without variety; and more might have been introduced into this poem with advantage.
The subject of the poem is introduced by the following descriptive lines :-
""Twas sunset, and the Ranz des Vaches was sung,
"A Gothic church was near; the spot around
A maiden's grave, and 'twas inscrib'd thereon,
Yes,' said my conrade, young she died and fair!
"Her father dwelt where yonder castle shines
Waves o'er each walk where she was wont to glide,-
She, midst these rocks, inspired with feelings strong,
Herself descended from the brave in arms,
And, scorning wealth, look'd cold ev'n on the claim
Of manly worth, that lack'd the wreath of fame."
This maiden's name was Julia, and she was the sister of Udolph, who, though only sixteen summers' old,
"Had gone, poor boy! in soldiership to shine,
The youth wrote home the rout of many a day;