Their lot forbad: nor circumscrib'd alone 65 70 Along the cool sequester'd vale of life 75 They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhimes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, 80 Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse, 85 And many a holy text around she strews, For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. G 90 95 100 "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. "One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; "The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him born.Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." 115 THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, 120 Heav'n did a recompense as largely send: He gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear, He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. Headlong, impetuous, see it pour ; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar. I. 2. Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, And frantic Passions hear thy soft controul. Has curb'd the fury of his car, And drop'd his thirsty lance at thy command. Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king The terror of his beak, and light'ning of his eye. I. 3. Thee the voice, the dance, obey, 15 20 25 Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way: O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love. II. I. Man's feeble race what ills await! Labour and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! 40 45 The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Muse? Night and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, He gives to range the dreary sky; Till down the eastern cliffs afar Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war. II. 2. In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, The Muse has broke the twilight-gloom To chear the shiv'ring native's dull abode. And oft, beneath the od'rous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves. Glory pursue, and generous Shame, Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. II. 3. Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Isles, that crown th' Ægean deep, Fields, that cool Ilissus laves, Or where Mæander's amber waves In lingering lab'rinths creep, How do your tuneful echos languish, Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant-Power, 50 55 60 65 70 75 And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. 80 When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast.. III. I. Far from the sun and summer-gale, In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid, To him the mighty Mother did unveil 85 "This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: 90 Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of Joy; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears." III. 2. Nor second He, that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of Extasy, The secrets of th' Abyss to spy. He pass'd the flaming bounds of Place and Time : 95 105 With necks in thunder cloath'd, and long-resounding pace. |