THE MINSTREL; OR, THE PROGRESS OF GENIUS. BOOK I. AH! who can tell how hard it is to climb. In life's low vale remote hath pin'd alone, And yet the languor of inglorious days Not equally oppressive is to all. Him, who ne'er listen'd to the voice of praise, The silence of neglect can ne'er appal. There are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call, Would shrink to hear the obstreperous trump of Fame; Supremely blest, if to their portion fall Health, competence, and peace. Nor higher aim Had He, whose simple tale these artless lines proclaim, B The rolls of fame I will not now explore; Fret not thyself, thou glittering child of pride, Though richest hues the peacock's plumes adorn, To please a tyrant strain their little bill, But sing what Heaven inspires, and wander where they will. Liberal, not lavish, is kind Nature's hand; There plague and poison, lust and rapine grow; Here peaceful are the vales, and pure the skies, And freedom fires the soul, and sparkles in the eyes. Then grieve not, thou, to whom the indulgent Muse Nor blame the partial Fates, if they refuse Know thine own worth, and reverence the lyre. Canst thou forego the pure ethereal soul, O how canst thou renounce the boundless store The warbling woodland, the resoundine shore, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven? These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy, impart; But these thou must renounce, if lust of wealth E'er win its way to thy corrupted heart; For, ah! it poisons like a scorpion's dart; Prompting th' ungenerous wish, the selfish scheme, The stern resolve, unmov'd by pity's smart, The troublous day, and long distressful dream.Return, my roving muse, resume thy purposed theme. There liv'd in Gothic days, as legends tell, But he, I ween, was of the north countrie:* Inflexible in faith; invincible in arms. There is hardly an ancient Ballad or Romance, wherein a Minstrel or Harper appears, but he is characterized, by way of eminence, to have been " of the North Countrie." It is probable, that under this appellation were formerly comprehended all the provinces to the north of the Trent. See Percey's Essay on the English Minstrels. The shepherd-swain of whom I mention made, On Scotia's mountains fed his little flock; The sickle, scythe, or plough, he never sway'd; An honest heart was almost all his stock; His drink the living water from the rock: The milky dams supplied his board, and lent Their kindly fleece to baffle winter's shock; And he, tho' oft with dust and sweat besprent, Did guide and guard their wanderings, wheresoe'er they went. From labour health, from health contentment springs, Contentment opes the source of every joy. He envied not, he never thought of kings: Nor from those appetites sustain'd annoy, Which chance may frustrate or indulgence cloy; Nor fate his calm and humble hopes beguil'd; He mourn'd no recreant friend, nor mistress coy, For on his vows the blameless Phoebe smil'd, And her alone he lov'd, and lov'd her from a child. No jealousy their dawn of love o'ercast, They never roam'd; secure beneath the storm Which in ambition's lofty land is rife, Where peace and love are canker'd by the worm Of pride, each, bud of joy industrious to deform. |