M'^ i^ m DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Trea5ure%oom POEMS WKITTEN BY SOMEBODY; MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED (bY TPERMISSION)^ TO NOBODY; AND INTENDED FOR EVERYBODY WHO CAN READ ! ! ! LONDON : PUBLISHED AT THE REQUEST OF SEVERAL PERSONS OF DISTINCTION, BY BALDWIN AND CO. 1818. 159760 rrn Bensley and Sons, Bolt Court, Fleet Street. DEDICATIO NOBODY. 59760 Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2012 witii funding from Duke University Libraries Iittp://arcliive.org/details/poems06byro DEDICATION. Most unsubstantial and invisible Sir, Though you and I are generally at variance, and I verily believe there is no love lost between us, I sha^ nevertheless for once condescend to address you in a few civil words. I do then most reverentially dedicate to you the poetical trifles contained in this slender volume, which I beseech you not to read, but to criticise and abuse with all the arrogance of a self-constituted Censor, and aU the rancour of atrabilarious malevo- lence. And yet I would have you know, that notwith- standing the apparent humility of the foregoing Dedi- cation, I do most heartily despise your critical powers, and accordingly set them at utter defiance. Believe me to be. Most unsubstantial and invisible Sir, very cordially your old opponent, SOMEBODY. CONTENTS. LYRICS, &c. Page Ode to Zephyr 13 On Woman 15 On the Death of a Young Lady 17 Fancy 's Dream 19 Similes 21 The Exjsebud 22 Love and Bacchus 23 Beauty 25 The Meeting 26 The Parting 27 Spring , 29 The Path of Life 31 BLUE DEVILS. To a Friend 37 To Hope 39 Desperation 41 Vlll CONTENTS. MISCELLANIES. Page To , 47 The Tear of Melancholy 49 The Hero's Dirge 51 Enigma 53 The Seasons 56 The Orphan Boy 67 Thoughts on Retiremeiit 59 Content 61 To the Robin 63 Enigma 64 On departing Summer QQ The Arts of Self-interest 68 Ode to Health 71 Ode to Charity 73 To an Amiable Widow , 75 Fragment 76 Chit Chat, 77 LYRICS, 8fc. 8fc. ALL THE LOVERS OF LYRICS WHO DELIGHT IN LYRICS OF LOVE. Ladies and Gentlemen^ Young Men and Maidens, Striplings and Damsels, Beaux and Belles, Bachelors and Spinsters, Or by whatever name ye best like to be styled, — Somebody claims your attention : Ladies, &c. If ye have caught a spark of the tender passion, — which 1 doubt not, — and are further desirous to fan it into a flame, or resuscitate the dying embers, — some of the following lyrical effusions may possibly suit your purpose ; and to yoii I recommend the Roses and Posies, the Kisses and Blisses, and the Hearts and Darts contained therein. Gentlemen, &c. The spirit of gallantry will sometimes languish for want of a fillip ; and it has ever been the policy of the most celebrated Amorosos, both ancient and modern, to give the rose of Love additional lustre by dipping it in the goblet of Bacchus. — Accept then my Collection of Bowls and Souls, Wines and Vmes, and Pleasures and Treasures, as a tribute of respect from SOMEBODY. LYRICS, ODE TO ZEPHYR. Gentle Zephyr, mystic power. Fluttering round my lonely bower, Stay, and rest thy weary wing On my wild-harp's tender string! — Itest thee while the minstrel tells How he loves thy magic spells. Oh ! 'tis sweet to hear the breeze Scattering leaves and waving trees, — Loudly whistling round the mountain, — Faintly murmiu"ing o'er the fountain : m' 14 LYRICS, &C. Then to feel thy friendly power Wafting sweets from every flower ; Or when Summer's heat oppresses Breathing freshly through my tresses. But whene'er thy sighs respire O'er the soft iEolic lyre, — Swelling now in loudest numbers. Sinking now in mimic slumbers. Then, — entranc'd at every tone, — Then my soul is all thine own ! LYRICS, &C. 15 ON WOMAN. As we glance o'er the scenes in life's prospect appearing, How few do we find that are lovely and bright ! But if aught in that view sheds a ray that is chearing. From Woman, dear Woman, it borrows its light. When our cheeks and our wine are in harmony glowing. The joys of the revel her triumph proclaim ; For the charm that sets goblets and hearts overflowing. Is Woman — that dear, in-esistible name ! Does the Warrior exult in his terrible duty? — Yet deem not his heart by ambition possess'd ; — His wreath must be wove by the soft hand of beauty. And Woman's the Star he would win to his breast. 16 LYRICS, &C. The Mariner roams through the deserts of ocean, — The youth of the Worldling in labour is past, — But Love is the impulse that sets them in motion. And Woman's the magnet that draws them at last. There is not a path in this life but is thorny ; — There is not a scene but is gloomy as night ; Till the roses of love are bestrew'd through the journey. And Woman, dear Woman, diffiises her light ! LYRICS, &C. 17 THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY AGED FOURTEEN. Arrested in her swift career. The luckless Phoebe slumbers here : Just as the flowret had begun To heave it's bosom to the sun. It died away ; — untimely doom ! — Ordain'd to bud, but ne'er to bloom. Yet dwelt there in that tender form A soul impassion'd, wild and warm : That eye had learnt to roll and melt ; That heart the sparks of love had felt ; Had kindled at the furtive kiss. And dreamt of many a future bliss, c 18 LYKICS, &C. But hadst thou liv'd, delicious maid. In Beauty's perfect bloom array'd, O where in nature could we find So fair a form, so keen a mind I LYRICS, &C. 19 FANCY'S DREAM. When Fancy wings me far away. And lays me down at Laura's feet. Where myrtles rear the tender spray Entwining o'er her shady seat, — And there I win with many a wile Some token true of future bliss, A meaning blush, a yielding smile. Or — Oh ! perhaps a sealing kiss, — Benignant then does Fancy seem ; A thousand thanks to Fancy's dream ! But when distracting thoughts arise Of broken faith and love betray'd, — c2 20 LYRICS, &C. When o'er my fairy scene of joys The dream of Fancy throws a shade. And in my Laura's bower of bliss Some rival youth methinks I see. And still the blush, the smile, the kiss. Are pictured there — ^but not for me, — A daemon then does Fancy seem, — Away with Fancy's cruel dream ! LYRICS, &C. 21 SIMILES. Like dews upon the meadow — Like Summer's fading grass — Or like the fleeting shadow — This dream of life shall pass. 'Tis like the breath of morning ; Or like the solar beam ; Or like the flowers adorning The banks of yonder stream. The balmy flowers shall wither, — The sun shall sink his beam, — And morning fly together With life's delusive dream. 22 LYRICS, Sec. THE ROSE-BUD. How sweet the rosy gem That graces yonder spray ! But, wrested from it's stem. How soon it fades away ! And sweet is maiden beauty ;— But if by rude surprise We snap the stem of duty. It's fairest blossom dies. Then cease the vUe endeavom* To wither Beauty's rose ; Nor break the stem for ever On which it sweetly blows. LYRICS, &C. 23 LOVE AND BACCHUS. As Love one day Amid roses lay, Young Bacchus appear'd by his side ;- " Come rouse thee, boy, " And partake of my joy ; " it lies in this goblet's tide !" As the stranger spoke The sweet infant woke. And the bowl to his lips applied ; Then his heart grew light. And his glances bright, As he sipp'd the fuU goblet's tide. In the mirth of his soul, From Bacchus he stole 24 LYRICS, &C. The vine with it's purpling pride. While his own soft rose To Bacchus he throws, Bedew'd with the goblet's tide. O then they swore They had never before Such moments of rapture enjoy'd; And the deeper they quaft'd , The louder they laugh'd O'er the flow of the goblet's tide. " Blest be this bower, " And holy this hour I" — In the height of their joys they cried,- " May mortals never " Our friendship sever, " That hallows the goblef s tide !" LYRICS, &C. 25 BEAUTY. As the taper's insidious lustre Seduces the moth to it's ruiu. So the Wanton, alas ! if we trust her. Too surely will prove our undoing. How soon shall the stripling discover That beauty but shines to deceive him ! — When the first flash of rapture is over. How dark is the prospect 'twill leave him ! Admiring it's bloom, in our bosoms The flowret of beauty we cherish. Till poison exhales from the blossoms. And, scenting it's odour, we perish. 26 LYRICS, &C. THE MEETING. When ev'ning dews are weeping — When stars are beaming sweetly- When weary flocks are sleeping — O then expect to meet me ! The light of love shall guide me. The moon shall rise to greet me ; No evil can betide me. For thou wilt haste to meet me. My rivals may deride me — My sire may roughly treat me — And all the world may chide me — But still, my love, I'll meet thee ! LYRICS, &C. 27 THE PARTING. Since the moment of agony presses. When fortune compels us to sever. Let me steal a bright lock from those tresses, To wear in my bosom for ever. Yet think not that aught can be wanting To weaken the thought of thy graces ; — Too faithful is Memory's painting For Time to enfeeble the traces. But in absence 'twill yet be a pleasure — A sweet and a soul-soothing duty — To sigh o'er the soft silky treasure, Enwove by the fingers of Beauty. 28 LYRICS, &C. Then, Oh ! since the moment is pressing. In haste let me snatch the dear token ; While in kisses thou murmur'st thy blessing. And weep'st o'er the heart thou hast broken. LYRICS, &C. 29 SPRING. When Spring appears with roses crown'd. And sheds a world of sweets around. The warbler wings to yonder wood. Where she may trust her callow brood; — AVhere no rude swain her nest may know. Safe as she thinks from every foe ; O, then how sweetly does she sing To hail the blest return of Spring ! The shepherd through the verdant way. With pipe proclaims the new-born day ; The world is aU delightful now. And pleasure smiles on every brow. 30 LYRICS, &C, 'Tis thus the sweetly blooming maid, &c. To be finished by the reader agreeably to his own taste or imagination. LYRICS, &C. 31 PyVTH OF LIFE. Though Life's a rough path, as the Sages have said. With briars and thistles so thickly bespread. Where scorpions of Envy and adders of Hate In treacherous ambush their victim await. Yet still in our way there are sweet-breathing bowers. Where the pilgrim may twine him a chaplet of flowers. O yes — there are blossoms of joy to be found, — There are flowrets and fruits, if we look but around; For the vine branches wide to replenish the bowl. And the myrtle of love breathes delight to the soul : Then mingle them sweetly, to soften the scene. And fling o'er life's path a gay carpet of green. BLUE DEVILS. THE MISERABLES OF BOTH SEXES. For yoii pitiable sufiferers whose motto is " omne «fe*joer«we?M?w,"whose jaundiced eyes convert every slight accident of life into a scene of horror, to whom every trivial misfortune is a cause of incurable anguish, and every instance of deception a proof of universal de- pravity ; who obstinately reject all the remedies that common sense would administer, and magnanimously screw up your nerves to " the sticking-point"* of volun- tary despair, — for you, I say, it were useless to prescribe the lively sports of Imagination as a lenitive to your miseries : yours is a malady to be humoured, not rudely opposed. Believe me, I know your constitution well. How often have I seen you, with aspects as ghastly as if ye had just quitted the cave of Trophonius, issu- ♦ What a barbarous idea ! d2 36 ing from the libraries of modern Romance? From those depositories of Horror ye never fail to bring home a most invaluable talisman, a charm that has power to metamorphose all the beauties of Nature into hideous deformity, and yourselves into Calistas, Monimias, and Ophelias, Octavians, Timons, and Charles le Moors ; or some of those amiable characters ?,o faithfully pourtrayed by the pencil of Lord Byron, and so evidently the result of profound reflection.* Wherever ye go, the rays of Hope and Happiness retreat before you ; the sun ceases to shine ; the crim- son of the rose is turned into blood ; the vine changes into the deadly night-shade ; and the myrtle of Love into the gloomy cypress. You see I understand your case — Lyrics will not suit you. — Take then of Dia- bolics the three following doses ; and much good may they do you. SOMEBODY. * The word " reflection" is here used in its Logical sense. In Logic and Metaphysics " Reflection is that operation of the mind whereby its attention is reflected back on itseif." Vide Watts and Locke. / BLUE DEVILS. TO A FRIEND OFFERING CONSOLATION IN DISTRESS. Away, my friend ! — thou canst not heal The sores that on my bosom prey : It will not now — it must not feel The social throb ; — ^then, friend, away ! Yes — ^leave me still forlorn and lone ; — This heart is strung to Misery's key ; — Then wake not thou a tender tone To mar it's loftier harmony.* • My readers will probably think this sort of harmony something like the " Concordia discors " of Chaos, as described by Ovid. ■% 38 ' BLUE DEVILS. Though Pity's tear would fain infuse A balm to sooth my secret woes, — Though soft it fell as evening dews, — 'Twould only wake my stern repose. The ice-cliff hardens in the blast. But melts before the gentle ray : — This bosom too is firm at last ; Then, lest it soften — friend, away ! BliUE DEVILS. 39 TO HOPE. Hail, flattering Meteor ! — gilded by thy ray How bright the chaos of the future seems ! Yet, — as the fiend invok'd the orb of day, — " I call to tell thee how I hate thy beams." Fam'd is thy wondrous power, that kindly cheers Life's weary pilgrimage with witching speU : Is that thy boast ? — Go, pour in other ears The treacherous tale ; — / know thee, Hope, too weU. Yes — thou hast sooth'd my soul — to Fancy's lip Hast held the cup o'erflowing with thy foam ; That honied foam awhile was sweet to sip. But doubly bitter made the draught to come. 40 BLUE DEVILS. Yes, — thou hast cheer'd my steps, — ^led them to trust A faithless crag to gain the mountain's brow ; Fearless I trod — it crumbled into dust. And dash'd me reeling to the vale below. Too oft thy phantom-shapes, like those that lead The waking dreamer, have I fondly chas'd ; Too oft have seem'd to tread the flowery mead. And starting wak'd upon a dreary waste. Are these thy bounties? — Kind, consoling power! — Careful the pictur'd path-way to adorn ; To strew it o'er with every fragrant flower. But ne'er disclose a pit-fall or a thorn. Then hence, false Spirit ! — nor with some new dream Disturb the friendly torpor of Despair ; Thy spell has fail'd — away ! — nor longer beam " Enchanting smiles, nor wave thy golden hair." BLUE DEVILS. DESPERATION. Accurst be the glamce of the wanton's eye. Though the azure of Heaven it beam ! — Accurst be the vine ! — may it droop and die. Though my Heaven was once in its stream. For the rays of that eye, while they shoot so mild. Light the pilgrim to ruin and woe ; And the joys of that stream are brief and wild As the sparkles that die in its flow. But alas ! Can my curses or prayers replace One leaf on the blasted tree? Can the heart of Eliza retain a trace Of the blossoms it nurs'd for me ? 42 BLUE DEVILS. Thou Saint ! shall the cheek that is red with shame On the snows of that breast recline? Shall the lip that is parch'd by the goblet's flame. Be cool'd in the dews of thine ? O the sun of my joys at it's noon is set ' In wDd dissipation's wave ! — And the twilight that glimmers around me yet No prospect shews but the grave. Then welcome the smile of the wanton's eye ! — 'Twill scatter the phantoms of thought ; And welcome the bowl ! — ^let it mantle high To sweeten the ruin it wrought. MISCELLANIES. Extremes are now the fashion: ^nd to those luxurious palates that nauseate every species of poeti- cal food but what is seasoned with the strong emotions of Love or Hatred, Revenge or Despair, or some other stimulative passion, the sequel of these trifles may seem insipid and spiritless. But Any body whose ap- petite is not too highly pampered to relish humble fare, is heartily welcome to the Miscellaneous enter- tainment provided for his accommodation by SOMEBODY. MISCELLANIES. TO Tremendous foe of honour, wealth, and fame, Whose touch can quell the strong, the fierce can tame. Relentless monster ! why did fate ordain My trembling heart to own thine iron reign? Yet some there are who nobly scorn thy sway : The merchant wand'ring o'er the watery way. The chief serene before the batter'd wall. The climbing statesman, reckless of his fall, — All whom the raging thirst of gold inspires. And all who madden with ambition's fires. May view thy ghastly train with steadfast eye. With hearts of flame thy freezing touch defy. But peaceful bards thy constant presence know ; Their nerveless hands the half-wove wreath forego ; 48 MISCBLiANIESvS-ji. And fame's fair buds, that else had smil'd at death. Desponding droop beneath tliy baneful breath. Of thee the philosophic sage complains ; And learning groans a captive in thy chains. The secret wish, when some bright object moves. And reason's cautious voice that wish approves. Thy withering frown forbids to grasp the prize ; Wide oceans spread between, and mountains rise. Thy cruel arts a thousand phantoms raise. And death and danger lurk in all our ways. O leave, oppressive power, the blameless breast! Of guilt alone be thou the t}Tant guest : Still may thy band of sable horrors brood Where murder meditates the deed of blood, Wbere lawless passion pants for others' right. And rapine watches for the gloom of night. But spare the Minstrel ! nor imkindly blow With chilling breath on inspiration's glow; ***** Free from thy mildews may his laurels bloom, -'*'^ •" '■ And live to flourish o'er his honour'd tomb ! MISCELLANIES. 49 TEAR OF MELANCHOLY.* As thus beneath my summer bow'r I sit, when dusky shades appear, WTiy droops my soul at ev'ning*s hour. And why descends this pensive tear? Art thou, my soul, oppress'd with woe. Or dost thou shrink from dangers near ? If not, then whence, ah ! whence should flow At ev'ning's hour this pensive tear? * Lest the Author should be accused of any deficiency in his poetical Bill of Fare, he has cooked up this exquisite dish as a bon- bouch for the favourite Children of Sensibility,— those tender-hearted enthusiasts, those epicures in woe, who acknowledge no luxury but in tears, no harmony but in sobs and sighs. If their mouths do not water at it, perhaps their eyes may. . E 50 MISCELLANIES. O no, — this heart no sorrow feels. Nor does it throb with anxious fear : The drop which thus unbidden steals Is Melancholy's pensive tear. And oft it flows — I know not why — When thus at eve I linger here ; And oft the sadly-pleasing sigh Responds to Melancholy's tear. Nor could a world of pleasures touch My breast with feelings half so dear ; — Oh ! there is nought I prize so much As Melancholy's pensive tear. flH ■ '•) .til : dAi a\ ■ .'ff nod ! ^.'u{ dgiroil •' efri 70 MISCELLANIES. 51 THE HERO'S DIRGE. While the nursling of Peace sinks in life's second childhood. And hangs, like the yew-tree, so long o'er the tomb. The Warrior is fell'd, like the pride of the wild-wood. Like the oak, he is feU'd in his strength and his bloom. But e'en as his blade in the battle could lighten, — Through its gloom and its horror a lustre could yield, — In the darkness of death so his glory shall brighten. And beam round his head while he dies in the field. Though his country may weep while his urn she embraces. In the flush of emotion her tears shall disperse, ^^^len his story emblaz'd on the canvass she traces, Reviv'd in the marble and breath'd in the verse. Though his loss wring the breast of maternal affection. By his wide-echo'd praises those pangs shall be heal'd ; E 2 52 MISCELLANIES. And the mourner shall smile through the mist of affliction As she tells of her hero that fell in the field. In her heart's desolation some fair-one may languish. And long the bright eye may o'erflow at his name ; — Yet the tale of his triumph shall soften her anguish, And a share in his glory that maiden shall claim : She shall pay to his relics the last holy duty. She shall own the soft passion so long unreveal'd ; And, exulting, shall know that the blaze of her beauty Gave warmth to the courage that glow'd in the field. Let us bend o'er the ashes of valour departed. When we love to indulge the soft languor of woe, — In our moments of glee, when we feel lighter hearted. To thy fame, sainted hero, the goblet shall flow. O long shall oblations be pour'd to thy spirit By ail that repos'd in the shade of thy shield ;— And long shall we pray that our sons may inherit A spark like the flame that expir'd in the field. MISCCIiLANIBS. 53 ENIGMA. -■fOtiwii c'.i\ hi .».■ ;•;)••■. I!n youth exalted high in air. Or bathing in the waters fair. Nature to form me took delight, <|^ And clad my body all in white. Tail was my person, thin my waist. On either side with fringes grac'd; Till cruel man my charms espied. And dragg'd me from my mother's side. No wonder now I look so thin ; — The tyrant stript me to the skin ; My skin he fla/d, my hair he cropt. At head and foot my body lopt ; And then with heart more hard than stone. He pick'd my marrow from the bone. 64 MISCELLANIES. To vex me more, he took a freak > Ju«i;5j I To slit my tongue and make me speak : • '/* And, though it marvellous appears, ■'•i*i- I speak to eyes, and not to ears. '- » To me he chiefly gives in trust a- '^ X^ To please his malice and his lust. ' nd I From me no secret can he hide ; i I see his meanness and his pride. And 'tis my pleasure to expose His folly to his greatest foes. All languages I can command. Yet not one word I understand. Without my aid the best divine In learning would not know a line ; The lawyer must forget his pleading ; The scholar could not shew his reading. Nay man, — my master, — is my slave, I give command to kill or save ; MISCELLANIES. 55 I grant ten thousand pounds a year. And make a beggar strut a peer ; But while I now my life relate, I only hasten on my fate ; My tongue is black, my mouth is furr'd ; I hardly now can force a word. I die, unpitied and forgot. And on some dunghill left to rot. .56 MISCELLANIES. THE FOUR SEASONS, In Summer's cool shade how delightful to sit ! In Winter how social the circle of wit ! The fruitage of Autumn my palate regales ; — In Spring I rejoice in the sweet-blossom'd vales. Each season has blessings abundant in store ; But if ye would know which is best of the four. The blithest and best in the annual ring Is Summer — is Autumn — is Winter — is Spring ! [:t MISCELLANIES. 57 THE ORPHAN BOY. When Nature's face is waste and wild, Disguis'd in Winter's veil of snow. Stern Poverty's neglected chUd No shelter finds from want and woe. Then feel, ye rich, who now enjoy Your blazing hearth and ample store, — Feel for the friendless orphan boy That shivering stands before your door ! His parents once like you were gay. The blithest of the smiling train ; Till Fortune frovvn'd, and Pleasure's day Was clouded o'er by want and pain. 63" MISCELI.ANIES. O then — ^bereft of every joy — Their tender hearts could bear no more ; They died, — and left the orphan boy That now stands shivering at your door. Say, have you known a father^s love. Or felt a mother's fostering care ? You have ; — then oh ! let Pity move Your hearts to feel my losses there ; With bounteous hand my virants supply. And Heav'n will daily bless your store ; So prays the hapless orphan boy That shivering stands before your door^, „ MISCEIiljANIES. 5^ THOUGHTS ^atb^iIT ON RETIREMENT FROM THE BUSY WORLD. ' A SOLILOQUY. The charm is broke; — 'tis here that treachfry rpjigns ;- At once I bid the busy world farewell — ,5. stA aP And turn my steps, though trembling, to the plains Where meek-eyed Innocence and Candour dwell. Smit with their charms, my gratitude shall raise Some green-turf altar to each honour'd name ; And, whUe it fondly dwells on others' praise. Shall yield the honours which I ne'er may claim , 'W MISCELLANIES. Far hence shall mask'd Hypocrisy remove The blush of Conscience here be never felt; Nor Superstition taint the halloVd grove. Too oft the dark associate of guUt. But ye, sweet warblers, that awake the morn. Your cheerful notes shall charm my list'ning ears ; And 'neath the trees that yonder hiUs adorn I'll sing the dirge of all my toilsome cares. There will I lay me, hush'd in sweet repose. While, to my wand'ring mind's enraptur'd view. Imagination's dream shall oft disclose Such blissful scenes as worldlings never knew ! CONTENT. ^^«q««"^oVI f{JJN>ooT In Courts or Palaces I ne'er am found, , . » Nor yet in Pleasure's gay fantastic round ; , .^r^ I scorn the glittering pomp of tinsel state, ,,,.^<^in< i>(,i The empty noise and bustle of the great. . - . •- .. t But humble Virtue's calm, sequester'd seat. Unknown to Envy, is my blest retreat : Resign'd and happy with my humble lot. My joy's complete within a narrow spot. There Discord dies, and raging tumults cease. And none approaches but the sons of Peace. Let plodding mortals weave their cobweb schemes. Or doze away their time in golden dreams ; Let smiling fortune realize their store. And to their mountains add a mountain more ; Let them attempt to scale the blissful skies ; Foil'd in their giant whimsies, they will find That true ConteH,t }§ ^seated in the mind ; And scorn the visionary cloud that spread An unsubstantial rainbow round their head. Go then, ye plodding fools, — pursue your cha^gp'^^^'^ Patit for a feather in a toilsome race. - «-i^' '' i^^odff Be mine the aim to soar on Fanc3r's witigi'*"^*^^^ ^^^ And like the lark my grateful descant sing ;' ■* i^^dW To trace the beauties of the varied sphere. And mark the changes of the circling year^^ '^■^ 9iz&n The twinkling gems of morning to behold, "^'^'"* ^^» And evening streak'd with fleecy clouds of goMI ^ ""** Thus circumscribed within a narrow spot''''^ ^*^^ I still content me with my humble lot. Select the paths that Wisdom's sons have trod. And rise by sweet gradations to my God ! TO THE ROBIN. ■■'■ AlA Welcome, sweet Bird, that chear'st my lonely bower When Summer sun-beams pierce through azure skies ! And welcome too in Winter's dismal hour. When keen winds blow and howling storms arise. Haste to my window ! strew'd with liberal hand The tasteful crumbs shall recompense thy mirth ; Or in my chimney corner take thy stand. Hop o'er the floor, or bask upon the hearth. ;.'y 64 MISCEIiLANIES. ENIGMA. Ere into form shapeless atoms had sprung. Or Angels with envy corrupted became. Or war's lioirid clangour through Heaven had rung, I was, as now, in appearance the same. The Saint for my sake will forfeit his word. Though by the Atheist 1 am revei^'d ; The Coward at me will brandish his sword. While by the Hero in combat I'm fear'd. Scorn'd by the humble and diffident mind. Yet by the confident fribble possess'd ; I'm heard by the deaf, and seen by the blind. And to the conscience in trouble am rest. In truth I'm more wise than Wisdom itself. Yet by the blockhead am perfectly known ; MISe!£IiS>ANI£S. 65^ By misers regarded more than their pelf. And by the Monarch preferred to his throne. As Vice I'm deform' d, as Virtue I'm fair. The fear of the Courtier, and Patriot's gains ; The modest Man's boast, and the Coxcomb's care ; Reflect as you read, and take me for your pains. GG MISCELLANIES. DEPARTING SUMMER. Alas ! how fast the Summer flies. And leaves the hapless vale. While men beneath inclement skies Her parting rays bewail ! For hostile Autumn scaths the land And strips the drooping trees ; How fast they moulder from his hand. And fall at every breeze ! And hoary Winter too wiU come With keen destructive blast. While pining swains shall sadly roam. And mourn the season past. MISCELLANIES. 67 No more the warbling bird of night Shall on her midnight spray. Beneath pale Luna's silver light. Tune her nocturnal lay. How often through the dusky grove I've listen'd to her song ! While the soft rill would slowly rove In murmuring mood along. And Spring again shall teach the choir To triU the lively strain ; And thus the joys that now expire Shall rise to life again. r2 68 MISCELLANIES. ARTS OF SELF-INTEREST. Look where you will this busy world around In every part adventurers abound. Observe the courtly levee-haunting tribe. All boasting conscience, all above a bribe. Professing all with well-aflfected zeal To have no object but their Country's weal. Ask but the cause that prompts to such grimace. This wants to get, and that to keep a place. Advent'ring quacks in Law and Physic, long Have been the theme of Censure and of Song. And still unaw'd they plunder as they please. And laugh at censure while they count the fees ; MISCELLANIES, v^^ Alike the patient's and the client's fate ; One takes your life, the other your estate. Advent'ring Brokers with compos'd deceit. Make nice harangues, the credulous to cheat. Teach in advertisements the tricks of trade. And shew the game themselves have often pla/d. In this at least they merit our belief. There's nothing like a thief to catch a thief. The Stock-advent'rer, still more bold than these. Can make events and change them at his ease ; Can now affirm and presently deny ; With ready genius frame and swear a lie ; And thus through thick and thin for int'rest range. Devise, affirm, and at his pleasure change. The spendthrift peer, by adverse fortune crost. His every shilling at a game has lost, — Some wealthy heiress 'tis his luck to meet, — He pays his humble suit in Watling Street. 70 MISCELLANIES. Old Strutliam longs to live among the great. Miss sighs for title, equipage and state : The match is made, she plays the Lady's part. And shines a Dutchess — ^with an aching heart. Thus if we search the busy world around — In every part adventurers abound. MISCELLANIES. 71 ODE TO HEALTH. Hail, sacred spring of human joys. Hail sweet allay to every care ; Without thee riches are but toys. And honours trifles light as air. When blest with thy protecting power — Then only mortals taste content ; How lightly flies the passing horn- In thy delightful presence spent. In vain the festive board is spread. In vain the goblet passes round ; Such wild enjoyment is thy dread; With temp'rance only art thou found, 72 MISCELLANIES. The peaceful rustic, void of care. Is amply blest in thy support ; Contented with his humble fare. He scorns the splendours of the Court. MISCELLANIES. 73 ODE TO BRITISH CHARITY. Tune — " Ride Britannia" When Charity, the spring of Love, Descended by divine command. She brought those virtues from above That now are blooming through the land. Hail Britannia, Britannia, glorious name ! Thy liberal virtues spread thy fame. Soon as the blessed herald came. Her spirit spread through Britain's Isle ; And temples sacred to her fame Arose at her propitious smile. Hail Britannia, &c. 74 MISCBIiliANIES. The wretched sons of want and grief To Britain tell their tale of woe ; In her they find a sure relief. Beneath her sheltering wing repose. Hail Britannia, &c. MISCELLANIES. 7^ AN AMIABLE WIDOW, ON THE LOSS OF HER HUSBAND. O CEASE, gentle Widow, your sorrow so deep For a Husband that's left you behind : You still on your pillow serenely may sleep ; Remember this fact, and no longer yoif 11 weep, — 'Twas tfourself made him loving and kind. How vast was the debt that he ow'd thee ! — O yes,- 'Twas a debt he could never repay : Then leave it to me, gentle friend, to do this ; — To be such a debtor for conjugal bliss I'd take up the credit to-day ' /D MISCELLANIES. FRAGMENT FROM CATULLUS. Ah ! Brother, once my being's dearer pari. How lorn, how lonely hast thou left this heart ! Nurs'd by thy hand, and fed with Friendship's dew. Luxuriant once my hopes and pleasures grew ! With thee the buds of joy have ceas'd to bloom. And all my Soul is buried in thy tomb. And shall I ne'er again that form embrace? Ne'er hear that voice, ne'er view that manly face? Shall hearts no more unite if once they sever? — Yet will I love thee, dearest shade, for ever ! niS9b bios^^dn on - H oJ biia r MISCELLANIES. 77 CHIT CHAT— A SONG. Written for, and insoied at the desire of a Young Lady of distinction, being a P^irody an the Ladiet' Chit Chat. " How we laugh at them!" Vide Page 1818. Natty dashing fellows how tliey chat. Chit chat, tittle tattle tat ; ■uVl All about their horses and all that. Chit chat, tittle tattle tat. With whisker'd lip en militaire how gallantly they stalk, Of fighting men and dogs how the dashing fellows talk ; Then arm-in-arm they go between a stagger and a walk. With their chit chat, tittle tattle, tittle tattle. Chit chat, tittle tattle tat. Natty dashing fellows appear so neat and clean. Chit chat, &c. Lounging in the promenade, to see and to be seen. Chit chat, &c. 78 MISCELLANIES. A natty pair of boots and a pretty pair of spurs, A natty little ash-plant to drive away the curs. And a fine embroider'd coat, all adorn'd with silk and furs. Chit chat, &c. Natty dashing fellows go from Tavern to the Play, • , . Chit chat, &c. [say. To every dashing blade they meet some dashing thing they Chit chat, &c. A pretty little quizzing glass, the pretty girls to spy, A natty diamond ring, to catch the dazzled eye. While a pinch of Maccabau to their noses they apply. Chit chat, &c. Natty dashing fellows how they gallop through the Park, Chit chat, &c. While the pretty lasses cry, "Only see the dashing spark \" Chit chat, &e. MISCELLANIES. 79 They notice old acquaintance with a dashing nod and grin. Then to ply the whip and spur how the dashing lads begin. Though all the while pretending to pull the horses in. Chit chat, &c- Natty dashing fellows at last come to wed. Hum drum, diddle diddle dum — Then aU their dashing airs and gallantries are fled. Hum drum, diddle diddle dum. And then, if they wish to escape eternal strife, ■ They must make it all their pleasure and the business of their life, Sfi a To rock the pretty cradle, and to please the pretty wife — Hum drum, diddle diddle, diddle diddle. Hum drum, diddle diddle dum. FINIS. Bensley and Sons, EoltCourt, Fleet Street, Lonilo