HYMN TO ADVERSITY. ...Ζήνα Τὸν φρονεῖν βροζὺς ὁδώσανζα, τῶ πάθει μαθὼν Θέντα κυρίως έχειν. Eschylus, in Agamemnone. DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power, The proud are taught to taste of pain, With pangs unfelt before, unpitied, and alone. When first thy sire to send on Earth And bade to form her infant mind. ELEGY, WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH YARD Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the Moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn, And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, Light they disperse, and with them go To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd. Wisdom, in sable garb array'd. Immers'd in rapturous thought profound. With leaden eye, that loves the ground, And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head, Dread goddess, lay thy chastening hand! Not in thy gorgon terrors clad, Nor circled with the vengeful band, (As by the impious thou art seen,) With thundering voice, and threatening,mien, With screaming Horror's funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, oh, goddess! wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic train be there, To soften, not to wound, my heart. The generous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan, What others are, to feel, and know myself a man. No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team a-field! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke. Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour, The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can, Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with cclestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd Or wak'd to ecstacy the living lyre But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage, With antic sports and blue-ey'd pleasures, Slow-melting strains their queen's approach declare:. The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love. II. Man's feeblo race what ills await, Tabor and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse? Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war. In climes beyond the solar road, Thine too these golden keys, immoital boy! Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears Nor second he,t that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy, He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time: Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, Two coursers of ethereal race,t With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resounding pace. Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. Oh! lyre divine, what daring spirit Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, Through the azure deep of air: The Muse has broke the twilight gloom To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves. Th' unconquerable mind, and Freedom's holy flame. Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Or where Mæander's amber waves How do your tuneful Echoes languish Murmur'd deep a solemn sound: Left their Parnassus, for the Latian plains. They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast. Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Beneath the good how far-but far above the great ODE ON THE SPRING. Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, The untaught harmony of Spring: While, whispering pleasure as they fly, Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky Their gather'd fragrance fling. Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch Beside some water's rushy brink (At ease reclin'd in rustic state) Still is the toiling hand of Care: The panting herds repose: Yet hark, how through the peopled air The busy murmur glows! † Milton. Meant to express the stately march and sounding energy of Dryden's rhymes. The insect youth are on the wing, And float amid the liquid noon: To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Alike the busy and the gay In Fortune's varying colors drest: Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive kind reply; "Poor moralist! and what art thou? A solitary fly! Thy joys no glittering female.meets, ODE FOR MUSIC. PERFORMED IN THE SENATE-HOUSE AT CAMBRIDGE, JULY 1, 1769, AT THE INSTALLATION OF HIS GRACE AUGUSTUS-HENRY FITZROY, DUKE OF GRAFTON, CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY. But hark! the portals sound, and pacing forth High potentates and dames of royal birth, And sad Chatillon,† on her bridal morn That wept her bleeding love, and princely Clare The murder'd saint, and the majestic lord, "What is grandeur, what is power? “HENCE, Avaunt, ('tis holy ground,) Servitude that hugs her chain, Edward the Third; who added the fleur-de-lis of France to the arms of England. He founded Trinity College. Mary de Valentia, Countess of Pembroke, daughter Let painted Flattery hide her serpent-train in flowers. of Guy de Chatillon, Comte de St. Paul in France: of Nor Envy base, nor creeping Gain, Dare the Muse's walk to stain, While bright-ey'd Science watches round: Hence, away, ,'tis holy ground!" From yonder realms of empyrean day Bursts on my ear th' indignant lay: There sit the sainted sage, the bard divine, Yet hither oft a glance from high To bless the place, where on their opening soul 'Twas Milton struck the deep-ton'd shell, whom tradition says, that her husband, Audemar de Valentia, Earl of Pembroke, was slain at a tournament on the day of his nuptials. She was the foundress of Pembroke College or Hall, under the name of Aula Mariæ de Valentia. Elizabeth de Burg, Countess of Clare, was wife of John de Burg, son and heir of the Earl of Ulster, and daughter of Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, by Joan of Acres, daughter of Edward the First. Hence the poet gives her the epithet of princely. She founded Clare-Hall § Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry the Sixth, found ress of Queen's College. The poet had celebrated her con jugal fidelity in a former ode. Elizabeth Widville, wife of Edward the Fourth (hence called the paler rose, as being of the house of York.) She added to the foundation of Margaret of Anjou. ¶ Henry the Sixth and Eighth. The former the founder of King's, the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity College. Foremost and leaning from her golden cloud. The venerable Marg'ret* see! "Welcome, my noble son," she cries aloud, To this, thy kindred train, and me. "Lo, Granta waits to lead her blooming band. Not obvious, not obtrusive, she No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings; With modest pride to grace thy youthful brow Submits the fasces of her sway, Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay. The hapless nymph with wonder saw : A whisker first, and then a claw, With many an ardent wish, She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize; What female heart can gold despise ? What cat's averse to fish? Presumptuous maid! with looks intent Eight times emerging from the flood, From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd, Not all, that tempts your wandering eyes, ODE ON THE DEATH OF A FAVORITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD-FISHES. "Twas on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dy'd Her conscious tail her joy declar'd; Still had she gaz'd; but 'midst the tide Countess of Richmond and Derby; the mother of Henry the Seventh, foundress of St. John's and Christ's Colleges. The Countess was a Beaufort, and married to a Tudor; hence the application of this line to the Duke of Grafton, who claims descent from both these families. I Lord-treasurer Burleigh was chancellor of the University in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE "Ανθρωπος· ἱκανὴ πρόφασις εἰς τὸ δυσυχεῖν. Menander. YE distant spires, ye antique towers, Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, His silver-winding way. Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing shade, Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales, that from ye blow, A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring. Say, father Thames, for thou hast seen The paths of pleasure trace, The captive linnet which enthral ? § King Henry the Sixth, founder of the college. |