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THE 
 
 COMMEMORATION 
 
 OP 
 
 REYNOLDS, 
 
 IN TWO PARTS, 
 
 W I T,H NOTES, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS; 
 
 BY 
 
 MARTIN ARCHER SHEE, R. A. 
 
 “ At iis laudibus certe non solum ipse qui laudatur sed 
 etiam Populi Romani nomen ornatur.” 
 
 Cicero pro Arch. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOB J. MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET, 
 BY W. BULMEK AND CO. CLEVELAND-ROW, 
 
 ST. JAMES’S, 
 
 1814 . 
 
TO 
 
 HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 
 THE PRINCE REGENT. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 The gracious manner in which your Royal 
 Highness has permitted the sanction of your 
 name to be prefixed to the following Poem, 
 affords a new proof of the esteem in which your 
 Royal Highness holds the memory of the 
 distinguished character of whom it treats. 
 
 It is another instance of that enlightened 
 liberality, which prompted your Royal Highness 
 
VI 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 to patronise so warmly, the late Exhibition of 
 his Works; and so condescendingly to preside 
 at the commemorative festival, with which it 
 was opened to the admiration of the public. 
 
 The Author is aware, that he must not 
 ascribe to his own claims, that which is due 
 only to the interest of his subject, and to the 
 occasion which favoured his pretensions. 
 
 As long as high excellence in the Arts, shall 
 be considered to grace and dignify the character 
 of a people, the name of Reynolds must be re- 
 corded amongst those, who by their talents, have 
 distinguished the age in which they lived, and 
 shed a lustre on the reputation of their country. 
 What has been done by the British Institution, 
 under the auspices of your Royal Highness, in 
 honour of this great Artist, has not been more 
 generous in sentiment, than judicious in policy: 
 while it offered a liberal tribute of acknow- 
 ledgment for the obligations conferred on us by 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 VU 
 
 his genius, it evinced a patriotic desire to pre- 
 serve to us the advantanges derived from his 
 taste. 
 
 In co-operating so zealously, with the Institu- 
 tion on this occasion, your Royal Highness has 
 paid a homage to merit, which elevates it above 
 ordinary distinctions, and which is as honourable 
 to him who offers it, as to him who is its object. 
 
 The Prince, who sets an example of respect 
 for high talents, consults not less his own 
 reputation, than his people’s advantage. In 
 stimulating the ardour of genius, he prepares 
 the noblest, and most efficient instruments of his 
 own glory. The light he kindles, reflects upon 
 him a grateful lustre, which not only invests 
 him with present splendour, but irradiates his 
 future fame. 
 
 What a relief from the dreadful picture 
 presented by the horrors of revolutions, and 
 the ravages of war, to contemplate, even in 
 
Vlll 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 imagination, the ennobling contests of genius — 
 the peaceful triumphs of the Arts ! 
 
 As a Member of the Royal Academy, an 
 Institution created by the favour of his Majesty, 
 and so long honoured by the countenance of 
 your Royal Highness ; the Author, has thought 
 it his duty to offer to your Royal Highness, 
 this humble attempt to commemorate an event, 
 in which your Royal Highness appeared to take 
 so conspicuous an interest. The Members of the 
 Academy, must always feel gratified by the 
 honours paid to the memory of an Artist, who 
 was so long, the distinguished ornament of their 
 Institution. Without presuming to consider 
 himself, as a fit organ to express the sentiments of 
 that respectable body, the Author, may venture 
 to assure your Royal Highness, that they are 
 ambitious of following in the steps of their great 
 leader; that they have been sensibly impressed 
 by the liberal sentiments, and enlightened inten- 
 
dedication. 
 
 IX 
 
 tions so eloquently announced to them by your 
 Royal Highness, when the Academy was last 
 honoured by your presence ; and that they are 
 ardent in their desire to merit the favour of their 
 Prince, and the approbation of their country. 
 
 With every sentiment of respect and duty, 
 the Author has the honour to subscribe himself. 
 
 Your Royal Highness’s, 
 
 most faithful and devoted 
 
 Subject and Servant, 
 MARTIN ARCHER SHEE. 
 
 Cavendish-Square , 
 
 April , 1814. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The following Poem originated in a desire to 
 furnish a somewhat more regular, and appro- 
 priate record of the event which it attempts to 
 celebrate, than the transient notices of the 
 diurnal press supply. 
 
 The subject has indeed, grown under the 
 Author’s pen beyond his first intentions ; and 
 perhaps, beyond the limits which would have 
 been prescribed, by a due consideration of the 
 little interest which such topics are calculated 
 to excite in the generality of English readers. 
 
 The Commemoration of Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds however, appeared to attract a consider- 
 
Xll 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 able share of public attention ; and it will not 
 be thought surprising, if, to an Artist, it should 
 seem an affair of some importance, as connected 
 with the progress of the Arts, and the more 
 general diffusion of good taste. 
 
 The inadequate sense of his merits which 
 prevailed amongst his countrymen, and even, 
 in that class of society, which might be sup- 
 posed in some degree, qualified to judge of 
 them, rendered such a collected display of his 
 powers as that which we have lately seen, a 
 measure of justice to his fame. Every candid 
 mind must acknowledge the liberality and 
 pati lotism of the British Institution, in devising 
 so effectual a mode of removing the prejudices 
 of r { aste, and establishing the claim of this 
 great man, to the highest distinction, which the 
 policy and gratitude of a people can confer 
 on the genius by which they are improved and 
 adorned. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XU1 
 
 That some advance has been made towards 
 a more just estimate of his claims, is evident 
 from the impression produced by the recent 
 exhibition of his works. It seems at length 
 pretty generally admitted, that England has 
 produced from amongst her sons, one of the 
 greatest painters of which any age or nation 
 can boast, and there is reason to hope, that he 
 will be no longer, like the prophet, unhonoured 
 in his own country. 
 
 From the nature of his subject, and the 
 occasion which produced it, the Author’s plan 
 is professedly panegyrical : allowing however, 
 for the language of poetry, he has expressed no 
 commendation in his verse, which he is not 
 ready to repeat, and justify in plain prose. In 
 proportion as the love of the Arts, and the 
 principles of pure Taste, shall prevail amongst 
 us, the genius which has created the British 
 school must be felt and admired. We may 
 
XIV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 indeed, justly apply to Reynolds the observa- 
 tion of Quintilian respecting Cicero,* and say, 
 that he may consider himself, as having made 
 no small proficiency in true taste, who is much 
 pleased with the works of this great Artist. 
 
 Of the other productions here offered to the 
 public, the Author has but little to say. They 
 have been added principally, to enlarge the 
 volume to a more reputable size. Two of them, 
 as commemorative of distinguished characters, 
 may be said, to associate naturally with the 
 principal work. The Shade of Nelson, was 
 produced in a moment of warm feeling, excited 
 by the intelligence of an event which roused to 
 enthusiasm the gratitude and regret of the 
 country. It was published anonymously, 
 within a month after the battle of Trafalgar, 
 and was the earliest offering at the shrine of 
 the Hero whom it aspires to celebrate. 
 
 * hie se profecisse sciat, cui Cicero valde placebit* 
 
TEEFACE. 
 
 XV 
 
 The lines on the death of Opie, were first 
 printed in a periodical paper conducted for 
 some time, under the title of the Artist. They 
 were written for that publication, at the request 
 of a literary friend,* whose pen has been often 
 zealously, and disinterestedly, employed in ad- 
 vocating the cause of the Arts, and illustrating 
 the Annals of the Academy. 
 
 The little story which closes the volume, was 
 suggested by a melancholy occurrence of real 
 life, which had been related to the Author, and 
 from which its principal incident has been 
 derived. 
 
 As it is only on subjects connected with the 
 Arts, that the Author has conceived himself at 
 all excusable, in trespassing on the attention of 
 the public, he has felt some hesitation, in 
 committing to the press any of his attempts on 
 other topics. The indulgence which he has 
 * Prince Hoare, Esq. 
 
XVI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 experienced in his proper province, he cannot 
 expect to be extended to his wanderings in 
 other territories of the Muse; where the 
 abounding genius of the day, has, to rhymers 
 like him, rendered distinction hopeless, and 
 competition, presumption. 
 
THE 
 
 COMMEMORATION 
 
 OP 
 
 REYNOLDS. 
 
 * 
 
PART THE FIRST, 
 
 &nalggi$. 
 
 Allusion to the state of Europe under the long-continued ravages of 
 War, as particularly unfavourable to the cultivatiou of Literature 
 and the Arts. The public attention in this country engrossed by 
 the importance of passing events. A few distinguished persons 
 however, desirous to protect the interests of Taste, and to do 
 honour to departed Genius. The Poem addressed to the Members 
 of the British Institution, who formed and executed the plan of the 
 Commemoration of Reynolds. The inadequate appreciation of the 
 extraordinary merits of this great Painter, notwithstanding his suc- 
 cess in his profession. An advance made towards a more just 
 estimate of his powers, by the exhibition of his Pictures in the 
 British Gallery. The peculiar qualities of his Art touched upon, 
 as displayed in the present assemblage of his works. The mixed 
 emotions excited by the Portraits of the many distinguished persons, 
 now no more, which are to be seen in the Collection. Observations 
 on the character of Mr. Fox — Mr. Windham — Doctor Johnson. 
 Allusion to the long friendship between Sir Joshua Reynolds and 
 Mr. Burke. Observations on the Portraits of Garrick — Mrs. 
 Siddons— Goldsmith — John Hunter— Sterne — Admiral Boscawen 
 — Lord Keppel — Lord Rodney— Lord Harrington — Marquis of 
 
Granby — Lords, Ashburnliam and Lansdown— Col. Barre — Lords, 
 Thurlow, Mansfield, and Camden. Apostrophe to Painting, as 
 employed in preserving to posterity the resemblance of great 
 characters. The interest and utility of Portrait Painting, illustrated 
 ki its effects on the friend, the lover, the father, and the husband, 
 
THE 
 
 COMMEMORATION OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 * At iis laudibus certe non solum ipse qui laudatur sed etiam 
 Populi Romani nomen ornatur ” 
 
 Cicero pro Arch. 
 
 Uns a ted yet! tho’ now, on every shore. 
 
 For near five lustres drench’d with human gore, 
 
 Still raves the monster War — still shakes unfurled 
 The flag of slaughter o’er a suffering world. 
 
 Ambition too, in every age and clime, * 
 
 The curse of empire and the scoff of time ; 
 
4 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 A frantic fiend to scourge life’s fools ordain’d — 
 
 The only maniac man has left unchain’d ! 
 
 By heaven unblasted and by earth unawed, 
 
 Wild ’midst his works of ruin, walks abroad, 10 
 
 Wreaths his mad brow as ravaged Nature moans. 
 
 And monarchs tremble on their tottering thrones.* 
 
 Alas ! amid this din of dire alarms, 
 
 This deafening uproar of a world in arms ! 
 
 What gentle voice of Muse or Grace around — ] 5 
 
 What Syren song in such a storm can sound ? 
 
 * This passage was composed in August last : the happy change 
 •which has taken place since that period, in the affairs of Europe, 
 has weakened its application. The author trusts, that the lovers of 
 peace and the arts may now look forward to the near approach 
 of a period more favorable to their views ; when nations, secure 
 in their independance, may be at leisure to commemorate the 
 virtues of those by whom it has been so successfully defended. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 5 
 
 While Havoc howls — while every wind that blows. 
 
 Rut wafts the groans of nations and their woes, — 
 
 Still breathes some tale of blood, and as we hear. 
 
 With sounds of horror fills the shuddering ear : 20 
 
 While Peace and Freedom wait in awful pause. 
 
 The sword’s decree in Europe’s sacred cause ; 
 Prepared, shou’d Fate Oppression’s power uphold, 
 
 (As fair Astrsea fled the world of old,) 
 
 To quit a scene where heartless Rapine raves, 25 
 An age of iron and a race of slaves : 
 
 What eye unfixed upon the fray ? — what ear, 
 
 In this wild hurricane of hope and fear, 
 
 Can turn to toils in calmer hours embraced — 
 
 To arts of ornament, or themes of taste ? 
 
 30 
 
6 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Yet some there are amid this press of cares — 
 
 This blight of mind — when every Muse despairs. 
 
 Who fain wou’d shield life’s flowerets from the blast, 
 Again to blossom when the storm has past : 
 
 Who, conscious of the trust to Arts assign’d, 35 
 
 Wou’d guard the peaceful glories of mankind : 
 Convinced what wreaths soe’er our arms may claim. 
 By science only can we soar to fame.* 
 
 5Tes, there are some who, ’mid the toils of state, 
 
 Have not disdained to mark the painter’s fate ; 40 
 
 * The President Henault observes, “ Que ia protection signalee que 
 Colbert accorda aux arts et aux sciences n’etoil pas en lui l’cffct senl 
 du gout et des connoissances ; ce n’etoit pas par sentiment qu’il 
 aimoit les artistes et les savans ; c’etoit comme homme d'etat qu’il les 
 protegeoit, parce qu’il avoit reconnu que les beaux arts sont seui capable* 
 de former et d’immortalizer les grands Empires.” 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 T 
 
 Who thro’ the gloom wou’d light his path to praise. 
 And warm his heart with hope of brighter days. 
 
 For such alone th’ ambitious verse wou’d flow. 
 
 Friends of the pencil and the lyre below ! 
 
 Who, wise as liberal— prudent as refined, 45 
 
 Wou’d tinge with hues of taste the public mind . 
 Wou’d rouse the Patron — bid the Briton feel, 
 
 If not the critic’s pride — the patriot’s zeal ; 
 
 Approve his country’s arts — her claims avow. 
 
 And place the graphic wreath on Albion’s brow. 50 
 To those who grateful wou’d the debt repay. 
 
 That’s due to Taste and Virtue — pass’d away ; 
 
 Whose hearts aware how little life bestows. 
 
 To gild his fate whose breast with genius glows, 
 
s 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 'H ou d in the grave at least his wrongs repair, 55 
 And sooth with honours due, his spirit, there. 
 
 But chief, by Taste distinguished ’midst her train, 
 
 1 o Beaumont wou d the Muse address the strain,* 
 lo him her theme she owes — to him is due, 
 
 I hat Reynolds once more rises to our view; (to 
 
 * The first idea of the celebration which has furnished the subject 
 of the present little work, is said to have been suggested by this 
 gentleman, who unites the skill of the Artist to the taste of the Con- 
 noisseur. The alacrity with which it was taken up, and the zeal, 
 spirit, and activity with which it was carried into effect by the 
 Directors of the Institution in general, reflect the highest credit on 
 that body, and merit a more important commendation than the 
 author is qualified to bestow. The plan was from the first, warmly 
 patronised by His Royal Highness the Prince Regent, whose taste 
 renders him fully sensible of the merits of Reynolds. His Royal 
 Highness not only furnished from his Collection, many distinguished 
 works of this great painter, but, with a liberality and condescension 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 9 
 
 That once again, confirmed in every claim, 
 
 He comes in triumph to receive his fame. 
 
 ’Tvvas Taste that first the glowing thought inspired, 
 And eveiy breast with generous ardor fired, 
 
 To shew, while still unwearied we explore 65 
 
 The field of art on every foreign shore. 
 
 more than exemplary in his exalted station, presided at the magnifi* 
 cent entertainment given by the Institution on the occasion. 
 
 The author inserts here the names of those Directors of the British 
 Institution to whom the arts and the public are indebted for the 
 commemoration of Reynolds. 
 
 The Marquis of Stafford, Deputy President, The Marquis of 
 Abercorn, The Earl Grosvenor, The Earl of Lonsdale, Sir George 
 Beaumont, Bart., Sir Thomas Bernard, Bart., Sir Thomas Baring, 
 Bart., Earl of Carlisle, Earl of Hardwicke, Sir Abraham Hume, Bart., 
 Thomas Hope, Esq., Lord Kinnard, Richard Payne Knight, Esq., 
 Right Hon. Charles Long, The Earl of Mulgrave, William Smith, 
 Esq. M.P., Right Hon. Isaac Corry, Rev. W. Holwell Carr, Philip 
 Metcalf, Esq., Lord Northwick. 
 
10 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Unfelt — unknown — our native treasures lie, 
 
 And court in vain the cold averted eye. 
 
 Now too, when roused by persevering zeal. 
 
 The public mind, long torpid, seems to feel ; 70 
 
 When Rank and Wealth in patriot toils engage, 
 
 And Science reigns — the fashion of our age : 
 
 When those who late had thought it taste to frown 
 On Britain’s arts, and bar them from renown ; 
 
 Awaked to better feelings, view with pride, 75 
 
 Their bold career, and condescend to guide : 
 
 Now too, the time auspicious seemed to prove. 
 
 That Albion’s genius cou’d requite her love ; — 
 
 In all his pride to call a Reynolds forth, 
 
 And stamp anew the impression of his worth SO 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 11 
 
 From his own toils the noblest trophy raise, 
 
 And rouse his country’s echos in his praise. 
 
 Tho’ Reynolds, long superior and alone, 
 
 Possessed in Art an undisputed throne. 
 
 Yet hardly conscious what his powers achieved, 85 
 A cold, reluctant homage he received. 
 
 By some few minds of sounder judgment awed. 
 
 The mob of taste affected to applaud. 
 
 But far beyond his age his art aspired. 
 
 And few cou’d feel his worth, tho’ all admired : 90 
 
 Mistaken praise still mortified his aim— 
 
 Th’ applause of Ignorance polluting fame ; 
 
 With humbled hope he bowed to Fashion’s reign. 
 
 And saw with sorrow he excelled in vain. 
 
12 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 For e en of those who felt his merits most, — 95 
 
 On whom his labours were not wholly lost. 
 
 How few cou’d judge the skill his works impart. 
 
 Or take his towering altitude of art ! 
 
 But now with purer eye prepared to gaze, 
 
 By Taste as well as Fashion taught to praise, 100 
 
 We do him tardy justice, and explore 
 
 With pride those beauties unobserved before ; 
 
 Collect the wonders of his hand with care. 
 
 And estimate as jewels rich and rare ; 
 
 As brilliant gems of art as ever graced 105 
 
 The Muse of: painting from the mine of taste. 
 
 No longer echoing envy’s idle cry,* 
 
 Let fools exclaim, “ how Reynolds’ colours fly !” 
 
 * Reynolds at an early period of his practice, painted many 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 13 
 
 Behold in hues that rival Nature s glow, 
 
 Bright as the sunbeam or celestial bow ; 11C 
 
 By Time untarnished, and by Genius crowned, 
 
 Our British Titian sheds his glory round. 
 
 While minor stars their weaker rays combine, 
 
 And former lights with feeble radiance shine ; 
 
 pictures, which, from the failures incident to an experimental process, 
 have not preserved their brilliancy, though they retain qualities of 
 colour and tone, which the artist and connoisseur know how to appre- 
 ciate. It might be hoped however, that the general and indiscriminating 
 impression on this subject had been now sufficiently corrected. But 
 such is the force of prejudice operating on bad taste, that many per- 
 sons who claim to be distinguished from the vulgar, have returned 
 from the contemplation of the purest and most brilliant specimen* 
 of colouring which the art can now boast, without expressing any 
 other sentiment than that of regret, that “ Sir Joshuas colouis do 
 not stand,” 
 
 The magnificent assemblage of his works so lately before the public, 
 did not indeed, (to use the witty simile of an artist, applied to a dif- 
 
In all his works astonished Nature views 
 Her silvery splendors and her golden hues ; 
 Sublime in motion, or at rest serene. 
 
 Her charms of air and action, all are seen. 
 There Grace appears in ever-varied forms. 
 There Vigor animates and Beauty warms ; 
 While Character displayed in every stage, 
 Of transient life, from infancy to age. 
 
 
 ferent collection,) excite the idea of “ a chemist’s window.” The 
 ambition of Reynolds was to produce fine colouring, not fine colours. 
 His was the chastened glow— the subdued splendor— the “ deep- 
 toned brilliancy ot the ancients j” which he so elegantly recommends 
 in theory, and so successfully illustrates in practice— as to offer, in 
 this respect, the purest precept and the best example of his art. 
 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 15 
 
 Strong in each line asserts the mind’s controul, 125 
 And on the speaking feature stamps the soul. 
 
 There Imitation scorning dry detail. 
 
 Forbids that parts should o’er the whole prevail ; 
 
 To Dow and Denner leaving all the fame. 
 
 The painful polishers of taste can claim, 130 
 
 Tho’ free yet faithful to her trust remains. 
 
 And wastes no talent while she spares no pains. 
 
 And e’en where sometimes pure correctness fails, 
 
 A nobler character of form prevails— 
 
 A fire-fraught indication of design, 135 
 
 Beyond the mere, cold academic line ; 
 
 Where Taste her seal affixes to excuse 
 The faults of Genius in her favourite muse. 
 
16 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Announcing study yet concealing art, 
 
 Here Execution plays her proper part ; Ho 
 
 Light, airy, free, the pencil flows at will, 
 
 Yet seems to sport unconscious of its skill. 
 
 His hand impressed with painting’s nobler aim. 
 Disdained the tribe who flourish into fame. 
 
 A spirit pure — in happy mean that moves, [proves. 
 Where practice prompts the sleight which truth ap- 
 To all his labours lends an air of ease. 
 
 And e’en in trifles teaches toil to please. 
 
 But chief, endowed in right of Taste he reigns * 
 Supreme o’er all her undefined domains; 150 
 
 * The more we study the works of Reynolds, the more we find 
 reason to admire the variety of merits winch they display. In 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 17 
 
 Thro’ Nature’s paths his ardent course she guides, 
 And with Simplicity her sway divides : 
 
 Diffusing grace o’er Fashion’s awkward forms. 
 
 In every touch her magic influence charms ; 
 
 colouring he has often equalled the best productions of Titian, he has 
 sometimes surpassed them. The Author knows what he risks by this 
 assertion, but it is time to speak out and do justice to the genius of 
 our country. To Titian, as to the great, and long established model 
 of truth and purity in colouring, every scientific eye must look with 
 admiration and respect : but the Author confesses, that he has not 
 been able to discover, even in the most celebrated productions of the 
 Venetian School, an example of excellence in this department of Art, 
 which would not, at present, suffer in comparison with some of the 
 finest specimens of Reynolds. 
 
 In the management of light and shade, he unites to the vigour and 
 science of Rembrandt, the delicacy and breadth of Correggio. In 
 character and expression, he presents (he truth of sentiment and 
 action, without swell or exaggeration. His dignity is never the strut 
 of the stage, nor his passion the struggle of grimace. In Taste, that 
 peculiar power of the artist, which 
 
 “ Turns the happiest attitude of tkings > ’ , 
 
 G 
 
18 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 While all the ruder airs of life refine, 155 
 
 And vulgar shapes avoid her glance divinfc. 
 
 But where to fix amidst the general blaze, 
 
 This glowing sphere, this graphic heaven displays ! 
 From star to star the eye delighted flies, 
 
 As dazzling round, the beams of Beauty rise. 16C 
 
 he is absolutely without a rival in modern tunes. In spirit and faci- 
 lity of execution, and in all those merits of mechanism, material, and 
 surface, which appear to be as much over-rated in our school, a 
 they are under-rated in the schools of the continent, he has never 
 been surpassed. 
 
 In composition indeed, though often successful, he cannot be sal 
 to be eminently skilled ; and in design, he is confessedly deficient. 
 This latter defect however, he manages with so much judgment, that 
 his incorrectness seems more the result of negligence, than inability. 
 He at least indicates what he fails to express ; and as he never suf- 
 fers the aukwardness of unsuccessful effort to appear, his academic 
 deficiencies are hardly noticed amongst such varied accompaniments 
 of acknowledged'excellence. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 19 
 
 Toned by one hand to harmony divine, 
 
 According tints in coloured concert join; 
 
 And strong to truth as each chaste hue adheres. 
 
 The mellow majesty of Art appears. 
 
 While rapt Attention’s eager glance devours 165 
 The pictured scene, and traces all its powers ; 
 
 What mixed emotions rise as we survey, 
 
 This bright assemblage of the Great and Gay ! 
 
 Of all who late adorned the public stage, 
 
 Ihe Wit — the Worth — the Fashion — -of their age. 170 
 As fixed to view by some Enchanter’s power, 
 
 In better aspect caught, and happier hour. 
 
 Heroes and Statesmen — Bards, and Beauties here. 
 
 In living lustre mock the world’s career : 
 
20 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 And seem assembled to receive with grace, 175 
 
 Their rival visitants — the present race.* 
 
 But who shall gaze upon the gorgeous train ? 
 
 And think how few around him — -now remain, 
 
 * On every Friday evening during the course of the Exhibition, 
 the liberality of the Directors issued tickets of admission to the 
 Gallery, which, by a judicious arrangement of lamps, was lighted up 
 in such a manner, as to show the pictures to advantage. The pecu- 
 liarity of the scene, rendered it powerfully attractive; and here were 
 to be found in admiring groupes, the Rank, theTalent, and the Fashion 
 of the day. This unexampled assemblage of the beauties of Art and 
 Nature, formed a spectacle at once honourable to the character of 
 the age, and interesting to every eye: 
 
 “ ’Twas Taste at home — a rout declared, 
 
 “ Where every Muse and Grace repaired ; 
 
 “ Where Wit and Genius found a treat, 
 
 “ And Beaux and Beauties loved to meet.” 
 
 The Gallery seemed a temple dedicated to the honour of the Arts, 
 where the Spirit of Reynolds was the presiding deity, and all were 
 anxious to do homage at his shrine. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 21 
 
 Reflect— of all, that here in triumph placed. 
 Partake the immortality of Taste, 
 
 How few survive to shew the picture’s truth. 
 
 And prove in age the identity of youth. 
 
 What fires of Genius — fallen in Time’s decay ! 
 The Painter — and his Subjects — passed away ! 
 What eye by Art’s allurements so engrossed ? — 
 Encircled thus by such a radiant host ? 
 
 Can view unmoved those forms of life and bloom. 
 Those Lights so late extinguished — in the tomb ? 
 
 Behold ! as when applauding Senates heard 
 His ardent voice, and Slaves and Bigots feared. 
 Where Fox demands our homage, as of late,* 
 
 In prime of mind the Patriot met his fate. 
 
 180 
 
 185 
 
 190 
 
 * In selecting the various portraits which are introduced n the 
 
THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 22 
 
 The friend of Peace let every Muse commend, 
 
 And hail the Prince’s and the People’s friend. 
 
 The friend of Freedom — on whose rock sublime, 1 95 
 Britannia’s throne withstands the tide of time . 
 
 The friend of Genius — for he felt the flame, 
 
 And longed to lead his Country’s Arts to Fame.* 
 
 first part of liis work, the author has, in many cases, been influenced 
 less by the qualities of the picture, than those of the person repre- 
 sented. Though all the portraits he has mentioned are works of 
 great ability, and most of them display distinguished excellence ; yet 
 were the merits of the art the only motive of choice, many others 
 must have been preferred, which did not come within the author’s 
 plan to particularise in verse. Amongst those may be enumerated 
 Sir Joshua’s own portrait. Sir William Chambers, the Duke of 
 Orleans, Bishop Newton, the late Mrs. Sheridan, and several others 
 of eminent persons still living. 
 
 * The author has heard, from a distinguished character whose 
 authority cannot be doubted, that Mr. F»x, when iu office, a little 
 before his last illness, declared to him, that it was his intention as a 
 Minister, to do every thing to cultivate the arts, and stimulate to 
 exertion the Genius of his country. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 -S8 
 
 Let Attic's Sons before his image bow, 
 
 And weave their palmy garlands for his brow, 200 
 
 Who crowned the work that Clarkson’s zeal began,* 
 
 And raised the Negro to the rights of man. 
 
 Ye Arts ! whose honours wait on worth below — 
 
 That bid the marble breathe — the canvas glow, 
 
 To latest time the Patriot’s form convey ; 205 
 
 Resound his praise in every poet’s lay ; 
 
 Who, called to office in an arduous hour, 
 
 Employed his ebb of life— his span of power, 
 
 To hush the storm of Nations to repose,— 
 
 To heal the long afflicted Lybian’s woes, — 210 
 
 * When we consider the enthusiastic devotion of this gentleman 
 in the great cause alluded to, he appears not to have received his due 
 portion of fame, amongst those who have been distinguished for their 
 exertions to effect the abolition of the slave trade. 
 
THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 n 
 
 From Britain’s brows to wipe the sanguine stain- 
 And free his country from “ the curse of Cain.” 
 Lo, Wyndhana too ! in wordy wars a name. 
 
 Of martial sound — and metaphysic fame ; 
 
 A Wit — a Statesman — and almost a Sage, 
 
 With lofty step he trod the public stage ; 
 Maintaining still in Senates and in Courts, 
 
 The Prince’s privilege — and the People’s sports ; 
 In action fearless — in expression strong ; 
 
 In right, regardless oft’ of seeming wrong ; 
 
 Well pleased in sportive humour, to dispense. 
 
 Or put in paradox the soundest sense ; 
 
 He sometimes failed enforcing truths refined. 
 
 215 
 
 220 
 
 And marred conviction in the startled mind. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 25 
 
 Too deep for dull expedients of the hour, 225 
 
 Too firm in principle for tools of power ; 
 
 With honest zeal he served his country’s cause, 
 
 And in her safety — slighted her applause. 
 
 A gallant spirit, open, bold, and brave ; 
 
 In tempests calm and buoyant o’er the wave ; 230 
 
 A champion our cold age can scarce replace. 
 
 The last of Chivalry’s heroic race. 
 
 Next Johnson view, great potentate of mind! 
 
 As erst the Sage, in easy chair reclined. 
 
 While Garrick, Burke, and Beauclerk swelled his train. 
 To Letters gave the law — in Ivy-lane.* 236 
 
 * The Club formed by Johnson in Ivy-lane, is -well known to the 
 readers of Boswell’s interesting account of him. 
 
THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Rough and uncouth of aspect, as he sits. 
 
 He seems to frown upon his vassal Wits ; 
 
 To roll his awful front, and big with fate, 
 
 In sounds of thunder shake the Scribbling State. 240 
 On Learning’s throne established — long he swayed 
 A factious realm — where few in peace obeyed ; 
 Repressed each vain pretender of his time. 
 
 And ruled in Reason absolute, and Rhyme. 
 
 Like other Monarchs too, when called to quit 245 
 His lofty station in the world of Wit, 
 
 He left some signal trophies of his power. 
 
 To mark his reign to Time’s remotest hour. 
 
 Raised by his single hand, a Temple sprung. 
 
 Where shine the treasures of his native tongue; 250 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 2T 
 
 To former Genius too — a finished Fane, 
 
 Which like that tongue, immortal shall remain. 
 
 Where Britain's Bards their noblest homage claim. 
 And with their Critic proudly share their fame. 
 
 Immortal Burke ! thy honoured name recalls 255 
 An Image, more than wanting — on these walls, 
 
 Friend of his soul, thy aspect sure had graced. 
 
 The Painter’s triumph in this treat of Taste, 
 
 Cou’d thy pure spirit from the skies have shown. 
 
 His glory touched thee nearer than thine own, 260 
 By all the sympathies of Genius swayed, 
 
 Their hearts drew closer as their years decayed ; 
 Warm friendship cheared their course thro’ every stage. 
 And glowed unchilled beneath the frost of age. 
 
28 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Tho’ Reynolds oft’ with faithful pencil drew, 265 
 And gave the Statesman to his Country’s view, 
 
 Cou’d none be found to mark their fond career. 
 
 And hang in proud commemoration here ? * 
 
 * A portrait of Mr. Burke would have added considerably to the 
 interest of the Collection. The public would have contemplated with 
 eagerness, amongst the ornaments of our country here displayed, 
 the aspect of a man of whom History will boast, as an Orator, an 
 Author, a Statesman, and a Sage. 
 
 Mr. Burke in his “ Letter to a Noble Lord, on the subject of his 
 pension,” thus affectingly alludes to the long and intimate friendship 
 which subsisted between him, Lord Keppel, and Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 “ It was but the other day, that on putting in order some things 
 which had been brought here on my taking leave of London for ever, 
 
 I looked over a number of fine portraits, most of them of persons now 
 dead, but whose society, in my better days, made this a proud and 
 happy place. Amongst those was the picture of Lord Keppel. It 
 was painted by an artist worthy of the subject, the excellent friend 
 of that excellent man from their earliest youth, and a common friend 
 of us both, with whom we lived for many years without a moment 
 of coldness, of peevishness, of jealousy, or of pain, to the day of 
 our final separation.” 
 
Otf REYNOLDS. 
 
 29 
 
 Alas ! nor here alone — with vain desire, 
 
 The Sage’s reverend image we require ; 270 
 
 Look round — what fond memorials shall we find ? 
 
 His form is fading from the public mind : 
 
 No sculptured trophies from a thankless Land, 
 
 To fix it there, in brass or marble stand. 
 
 Ye shades of Genius ! — glowing lights that shed, 275 
 The beams of Science on Britannia’s head ! 
 
 While yet you mark indignant from above. 
 
 The failing tribute of your Country’s love. 
 
 Forgive the torpor which betrays her taste. 
 
 Which leaves your rites unpaid — your graves ungraced. 
 Which chills her Arts — their noblest function foils,* 281 
 And checks Ambition in immortal toils ! 
 
 * The author, on a former occasion, lamented the general insen* 
 
so 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 But see ! between each Muse of smiles and tears. 
 
 The Master of the mimic scene appears ; 
 
 Garrick — the Roscius of a nobler doom, 285 
 
 The age of Shakspeare — in a second Rome ; 
 
 sibility on this subject. That men, whose genius is the proudest 
 boast of their country, of whom, 
 
 “ The World has rung from side to side,” 
 
 should pass off the scene without any national tribute to their fame, 
 or memorial of their services, is unhappily, too common an occurrence 
 to excite surprise. It must however, be always matter of regret to 
 those (who leaving out of the question all consideration of the Arts) 
 believe that there is a generous admiration of great talents, which is 
 worth cultivating— a noble enthusiasm for genius and virtue, which 
 elevates the character of a people beyond the most prosperous spe- 
 culations of interest, or the most successful enterprises of power. 
 What becoming decorations of our senate house, would be the statues 
 of those who have been its most distinguished ornaments ! how would 
 the dignified representations of a Pitt, a Fox, and a Burke, excite 
 the reverence and fire the emulation of the rising race. The expence 
 of a tribute like this to the memory of such men, it would be absurd 
 to suppose an object of consideration, even to the most pitiful econo- 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 31 
 
 To us unknown* — a tale of other days ! 
 
 A Phantom glittering in the glow of praise ! 
 
 Yet here embodied by the pencil’s aid, 
 
 Behold the Actor and his Art displayed ! 290 
 
 mis t of the public purse; and it must be a worse spirit than that of 
 party, which could, on political grounds, refuse to pay homage to 
 powers, which attracted the admiration of their age, and which all 
 parties must believe to have been directed to promote, though by 
 different means, the prosperity of their country : 
 
 « Oh ! when shall Britain conscious of her claim, 
 
 « Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame ? 
 
 « In living medals see her wars enrolled, 
 
 « And vanquished realms supply recording gold ? 
 
 *< Here rising hold the patriot’s honest face, 
 
 “ There warriors frowning in historic brass.” 
 
 In these lines, Pope speaks of medals, but the principle of his com- 
 plaint is, the duty of commemorating great men and great actions. 
 And the example of the ancients which he recommends, is still more 
 forcible in the nobler exertions of their commemorative art*. 
 
32 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 While gay Thalia with resistless charms. 
 
 Allures the Drama’s Monarch to her arms ; 
 
 And grave Melpomene with zeal contends. 
 
 Pointing to higher aims, and nobler ends. 
 
 With what expressive archness he regards, 295 
 
 Th' indignant Muse who still his steps retards ! 
 
 Can pen explain, or fluent tongue unfold, 
 
 A grace of mirth or meaning here untold ? 
 
 We see the soul of Wit and Humour rise, 
 
 Flash o’er his face, and sparkle in his eyes ; 300 
 
 Alive — before our view, he seems to stand ! 
 
 We hear him speak — and lift the applauding hand, 
 Forget the Painter in the Actor’s praise. 
 
 And crown a Garrick’s brows — with Reynolds’ bays. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 33 
 
 Yet not unrivalled on the stage of Taste, 305 
 
 Shall Garrick claim the scene by Siddons graced.* 
 
 In awful pomp — impassioned — yet serene, 
 
 Sublime in sorrow sits the Tragic Queen ; 
 
 * As the Institution has commenced the formation of a Gallery of 
 British Art, by the purchase of a picture from the present distinguished 
 President of the Royal Academy, it would seem essential to their 
 object, to procure also, a conspicuous example of the powers of his 
 predecessor. To answer this end, the picture of the Tragic Muse, (if 
 the proprietor could be induced to part with it) seems to be parti- 
 cularly calculated, as it combines more of the peculiar merits of 
 Reynolds, than perhaps any other work of his, of similar dimensions. 
 
 As a portrait, it displays a happy specimen of his excellence in that 
 branch of his art, exemplified in one of the most favourable subjects, 
 as well as the most celebrated characters of the age. As a personifica- 
 tion of the Tragic Muse, it assumes the dignity of history, and by its 
 characteristic accompaniments, displays the fancy of the poet, as well 
 as the genius of the painter. In the management of light and shade, 
 in colour and execution, it possesses every merit that can be desired 
 in a model for the study and imitation of the British school. 
 
 In alluding to the purchase of Mr. West’s picture, the Author 
 
 I) 
 
34 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 A solemn air — a self-sustained repose, 
 
 The Muse in meditative sadness shows ; 310 
 
 The tinge of grief her touching aspect wears ; 
 
 In mournful meaning fixed, her eye appears, 
 
 cannot resist the opportunity of paying his humble tribute of applause 
 to the liberality of the Institution in this instance. In common he 
 trusts, with every respectable member of his profession, he is gratified 
 to see so proud a testimony of public favour conferred upon this great 
 and venerable artist, who stands not only at the head of the Arts in 
 this country, but who has produced works which take the lead of his 
 competitors in every country of Europe. The Author considers this _ 
 act of the Institution, not only as just and generous towards the artist, 
 but as highly judicious towards the art. It is a powerful Stimulus 
 applied at a proper time and in the right place. The student is 
 formed, and should find his appropriate incentive in the Academy. 
 But the matured endist is the fit object for the Institution ; by encou- 
 raging and rewarding his exertions, they rouse to rivalry the ambition 
 of the young, and a single act of liberal and enlightened patronage 
 thus directed, shoots its electric influence through the whole body 
 of aft. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 5S 
 
 And seems a window, whence the soul of woe 
 Looks forth upon the suffering 1 woi’ld below. 
 
 On either side — dread guardians of her state ! 315 
 
 Terrific stand her ministers of fate ; 
 
 At her command prepared to shake the soul. 
 
 To point the dagger — or present the bowl. 
 
 A glow divine — an awe-inspiring gloom. 
 
 That Gods themselves in thunders might assume, 320 
 In shadowy grandeur shrouds each fearful form, 
 
 While distant lightnings gild the encircling storm. 
 
 When ages hence the curious eye shall trace, 
 
 This form divine of dignity and grace, 
 
 I hose I’adiant features — where the soul is seen, 325 
 And Beauty wears her most majestic mien. 
 
36 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 No longer shall the Critic wondering hear. 
 
 How Siddons swayed at will the Tragic sphere. 
 
 How, o’er the heart supreme — with skill refined 
 She ruled the stormy elements of mind ; 330 
 
 While torpid natures — never touched before. 
 
 Have thrilled in strong emotion to the core ; 
 
 Awaked to sympathy— have learned to glow, 
 
 And wept and wondered— o’er unreal woe * 
 
 Who that has read — and who but reads the page ? 
 Where Wakefield’s Vicar wins both youth and age ; 336 
 Where touched from life with simplest grace and ease. 
 The Primrose family — for ever please? 
 
 Who that has traced the “ Traveller,” and pursued. 
 The map of Man, thro’ various realms reviewed? 340 
 * This picture is in the Collection of William Smith, Esq. M. P. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 3? 
 
 But hails the minstrel of thy mournful tale, 
 
 “ Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the vale/’ 
 
 Here, by his side who gave him first a name* — 
 
 While living — friendship, and when buried — fame ; 
 With Johnson, Burney, and Baretti placed, 345 
 
 Behold the Bard of Nature, Truth, and Taste. 
 
 Amongst those lights of mind see Hunter f shine. 
 While sense and science on his brow combine, 
 
 * In the first arrangement of the pictures, the portrait of Gold- 
 smith was placed in the manner here mentioned. In the life of 
 Johnson, an anecdote is related of his relieving Goldsmith, then in a 
 state of obscurity and indigence, composing his Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Johnson’s recommendation of this work first introduced its author to 
 the literary world, and his well known epitaph upon his friend, has 
 stamped with the seal of authority, the reputation of the poet. 
 
 t The late John Hunter, the celebrated Anatomist. 
 
3$ 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Calm and sedate the thoughtful Sage appears. 
 
 His locks by study silvered more than years : 350 
 
 In contemplation fixed, his piercing eye. 
 
 Thro’ Nature’s secret paths wou’d seem to pry ; 
 
 Wou’d follow all her steps — unfold her plan. 
 
 And trace the triumph of her skill in Man. 
 
 And shall the Muse review those shades of Fame, 
 Yet pass regardless, Yorick ! of thy claim ? 356 
 
 Neglect to pour one grateful strain to him. 
 
 The soul alike of sympathy and whim. 
 
 Who struck the heart’s full chord with skilful hand, 
 And smiles and tears held equal at command ? 360 
 
 No — while the fires of Wit and Humour warm. 
 
 While simple Nature’s tenderest touches charm : 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 39 
 
 While poor Maria’s sorrows swell the breast. 
 
 And Trin; and Toby shall his powers attest ; 
 
 Worked as be wills — while we each picture trace, 365 
 The Monk’s pale aspect— or “ the peasant’s grace,” 
 Behold the Captive his sad record keep— 
 
 Laugh with La Fleur— or with Le ievre weep, 
 
 Our hearts must own his influence, and discern 
 The fire of Genius in the flash of Sterne. 3*0 
 
 By Taste conducted turn we now to those, 
 
 Who wrest their laurels from their country’s foes : 
 Heroes whose Fame the Patriot soul inspires, 
 
 The Wellingtons and Nelsons of our sires. 
 
 Boscawen here behold, a gallant name ! 375 
 
 Which sunk in Falmouth loses half its fame, 
 
40 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Immortal deeds the well-known sound recalls. 
 
 Whose former glories gild our wooden walls. 
 
 See Keppel resting on the anchor stand, 
 
 An emblem of Britannia’s high command ; 380 
 
 A valiant chief whom Peace and War commend, 
 
 The Painter’s earliest Patron and his Friend.* 
 
 His country’s honours here a veteran grace. 
 
 Whose Genius in our triumphs still we trace ; 
 
 * We are informed by the late Mr. Malone, in his “ Account of 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds.” That in the year 1749, Lord Keppel, then 
 a Captain in the navy, and commanding a squadron, took Reynolds 
 out with him to the Mediterranean, on his way to Italy, accommo- 
 dating him with the greatest kindness in his own ship. From the 
 same source we leam also, that “ a portrait of his friend and patron. 
 Admiral Keppel, was the first work that attracted public notice on hi* 
 return from Rome, and exhibited such powers, that he was acknow- 
 ledged to be the greatest painter that England had seen since 
 Vandyke.” 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 41 
 
 Immortal Rodney ! first, the thought was thine, 385 
 To burst resistless thro’ the embattled line ;* 
 
 To dare beyond all record, and explore 
 A path to Victory unpursued before. 
 
 Tho’ worn by years and toils, the Hero’s form 
 Is unsubdued, tho’ shaken by the storm ; 390 
 
 Erect he stands — as still prepared to brave, 
 
 In Glory’s cause — the Warrior and the wave. 
 
 Here clad in armour Stanhope strikes the sight. 
 Demands his casque — and rushes to the fight ; 
 
 A hero’s haste his air and action shew, 395 
 
 His sword already flashes on the foe ; 
 
 * The late Mr. Cumberland, gives in his Memoirs, an interesting 
 account of this extraordinary man, and particularly describes the 
 
42 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Confused afar, we see the battle rage. 
 
 And man and horse in misty gloom engage ; 
 
 While sanguine clouds in spiry volumes rise, 
 
 And War’s hot breath inflames the burning skies. 400 
 Here Granby too, a hoary chief appears, 
 
 In arms grown old, and vigorous tho’ in years. 
 
 His head uncovered, shews how time has bared 
 The soldier’s front, yet still he stands prepared, 
 
 With coat of inail equipped and martial air, 405 
 
 Looks to the field, and longs to figure there. 
 
 Beside his master stands his mettled steed, 
 
 A trained Bucephalus of fiery breed ; 
 
 moment and the maimer in which he first conceived the idea of 
 breaking through the enemy’s line of battle ; a manoeuvre whicli he 
 afterwards executed with such distinguished success. ; 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 43 
 
 Aroused he hears the trumpet on the plain. 
 
 Rears his proud crest and shakes his flowing main ; 410 
 While marshalled squadrons crowd the scene afar. 
 
 And o’er a province spreads the distant war. 
 
 Of every rank here shine the good or great. 
 
 The lights of Law and Letters — Church and State ; 
 
 In Camps or Courts who graced a polished age— 41 5 
 In lawn or ermine honoured — saint or sage. 
 
 Lo ! grouped in grave solicitude as friends. 
 
 In private councils pondering public ends. 
 
 Here Dunning — Barre — Landsdown look alive. 
 
 And thoughts of days endeared to Fame revive : 420 
 
 When general warrants fell— a giant brood ! 
 
 By “ Wilkes and Liberty ’’ and law subdued. 
 
44 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Terrific frowns the judge in Thurlow’s face. 
 
 In Mansfield, dignity assumes a grace ; 
 
 The Poet’s mind, which first in Murray’s fate,* 425 
 Had nearly marred a minister of state, 
 
 A mildness gives to magisterial awe, 
 
 And softens all the sterner traits of law. 
 
 With hand impartial still prepared to wield 
 The Sovereign’s sword, or raise the People’s shield, 430 
 Arrayed in state behold a Camden claim. 
 
 His country’s reverence and his virtue’s fame ; 
 
 His patriot aspect still the culprit awes, 
 
 And speaks the firm assertor of the laws. 
 
 * This ornament of the Bench was in early life a votary of the 
 Muses, and if we believe Pope, would have been no unsuccessful 
 suitor to their favour, if he had continued his homage at their shrine r 
 
 “ How sweet an Ovid was in Murray lost !” Pope. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 45 
 
 Blessed be the skill which thus enshrines the Great ! 
 And rescues Virtue from Oblivious fate ! 436‘ 
 
 Which seems to fix the falling stars of mind. 
 
 And still preserve their lustre to mankind ! 
 
 Immortal Art ! whose touch embalms the brave ! 
 Discomfits Death and triumphs o’er the grave : 440 
 
 In thee our Heros live — our Beauties bloom. 
 
 Defy decay, and breathe beyond the tomb ! 
 
 Mirror divine, which gives the soul to view ! 
 
 Reflects the image and retains it too ! 445 
 
 Recalls to Friendship’s eye the fading face, 
 
 Revives each look and rivals every grace. 
 
 In thee the banished lover finds relief, 
 
 His bliss in absence, and his balm in grief. 
 
46 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Affection, grateful owns thy sacred power. 
 
 The father feels thee— in affliction’s hour ; 
 When catching life ere some loved cherub flies 
 To take its angel station in the skies, 
 
 The portrait soothes the loss it can’t repair, 
 And sheds a comfort — even on despair. 
 
 How bursts the flood of sorrow past control ! 
 What sense of anguish rushes o’er the soul ! 
 When turning from the last sad rite that gave 
 His heart’s best joy for ever to the grave. 
 
 The widow’d husband sees his sainted wife. 
 
 In picture warm — and smiling as in life, 
 
 Sees her — and feels, that never more below, 
 That smile shall chear him in a world of woe. 
 
 450 
 
 455 
 
 460 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 4T 
 
 Yet, tho’ ’tis madness on that form to dwell. 
 
 Now cold and mouldering in its clammy cell, 465 
 Tho’ each soft trait that seems immortal there, 
 
 But deeper strikes the dagger of despair. 
 
 Say — if for worlds he would the gift forego. 
 
 That mocks his eye, and bids its current flow ? 
 
 No — while he gazes with convulsive thrill, 470 
 
 And weeps and wonders at the semblance still. 
 
 He breathes a blessing on the pencil’s aid. 
 
 That half restores the substance — in the shade. 
 
 Immortal Art ! nor sense of Taste as he. 
 
 Nor glow of soul, who finds no charm in thee ; 475 
 
 His heart is shut to Nature — coarse and cold, 
 
 A clumsy cast of her half-finished mould : 
 
43 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 For such in vain the beams of Beauty rise, 
 
 Adorn the earth and glitter in the skies : 
 
 In vain her charms the inchantress Fancy flings, 480 
 To deck the rough reality of things ; 
 
 To lure from low delights of sense, and raise 
 The ambrosial relish of immortal praise. 
 
 Well husked, and hard to every touch of grace, 
 
 They live a sordid, sensual, selfish race ; 485 
 
 Their passions grovelling and their pleasures gross, 
 Their very virtues— like their minds morose; 
 
 With evil eye they view the gentler train 
 Of peaceful joys and pant for riot’s reign ; • 
 
 Foment the civil feud — the factious jar, 490 
 
 Harsh heard in discord still— and ripe for war. 
 
PART THE SECOND. 
 
 Hnafpgjg. 
 
 Allusion to the Portraits of eminent living characters contained in 
 the Collection— Reason stated why they are not particularly 
 noticed in the present work —Transition to the powers of Rey- 
 nolds in subjects of Poetry and History— His excellence in works 
 of fancy, illustrated in the pictures of Puck from the ‘ Midsummer 
 Nights Dream’— 1 he infant Hercules, strangling the Serpents— 
 \ enus chiding Cupid — His peculiar skill in catching the natural 
 giace of children ; and his humorous practice, of representing 
 them under characters of strong contrast with their playful expres- 
 sion and appearance — as, in the infant Jupiter— the infant Bacchus 
 the young Hannibal — Harry the VHIth, &c. — Description of 
 his picture of the Infant Academy — Apostrophe to Beauty, as the 
 peculiar object of inspiration to the Painter— -The excellence of 
 Reynolds in representing Female Beauty, generally stated, and 
 particularly illustrated in the picture of Cyruon and Iphigenia— - 
 
 I he moral character of his pencil in works of this description 
 
 Repr obation of those Artists who degrade the Arts to immoral 
 purposes — The powers of Reynolds in subjects of poetic character 
 and strong passion— Illustrated in the picture of Ugolino and his 
 Sons— In the Death of Cardinal Beaufort— The Death of Dido, 
 
and the scene with Macbeth and the Witches— Address to the 
 Spirit of Reynolds— General observations on his merits, character, 
 and claims to the gratitude of his country— Allusion to his loss of 
 sight, and death — Address to the rising race of Artists to profit 
 by the example of Reynolds, and to preserve the purity of taste 
 which he introduced— Prospects of advancement to the Arts, when 
 Peace shall have produced leisure for their cultivation, under the 
 auspices of an enlightened Prince, stimulating, by his example, the 
 patriotic taste of a liberal people. 
 
PART THE SECOND. 
 
 Pleased, cou’d the Muse in lengthened verse proclaim 
 The Portraits’ merits — or the subjects’ fame ; 
 
 Thro’ other forms, pursue the Fair and Great, 
 
 And from the Sovereign — range thro’ half the state : 
 But no, she proud forbears the alluring theme, 5 
 
 Where panegyric might like flattery seem. 
 
 Tho’ worth departed, prompts the impartial line. 
 
 She pays no homage at the living shrine :* 
 
 * In the preceding part of this work, the reader, will have ob- 
 served two exceptions to what is here asserted. The picture de- 
 icribed in page 41, beginning with this line “ Here clad in armour 
 
54 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Lest Adulation might be thought to wear 
 
 The mask of Taste, to pour her incense there. 10 
 
 Else, might she dext.’rous point the prudent lay, 
 
 And from the Painter — to the Patron stray ; 
 
 Approach in placid rhyme the Royal ear. 
 
 And in the picture — slily praise the Peer. 
 
 Stanhope strikes the sight,” the author finds to be the portrait of 
 the present Earl of Harrington. 
 
 What is said of the portrait of Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, 
 forms the second exception. But he, must have little sensibility to 
 excellence, who, in a work like the present, could forbear, in com- 
 pliance with any limitation, however generally necessary, to express 
 his admiration of this noble specimen of the powers of Art ; which 
 Barry (no partial eulogist of Reynolds) has declared to be “ both as 
 to the ideal and the execution, the finest picture of its kind in the 
 world.” 
 
 From the merits of the portrait, the transition to those of the 
 original was irresistable ; and few will be surprised, that the author, 
 although wholly unknown to this great actress, should have seized so 
 natural an opportunity of paying his feeble tribute to her powers. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 55 
 
 To other toils, which yet untouched remain, 15 
 The growing theme recalls the excursive strain : 
 
 To other toils — where praise may free expand. 
 
 And nobler palms impassioned scenes demand : 
 
 Where strong emotion tries the Painter’s skill, 
 
 Where Fancy sways — and Reynolds triumphs still. 20 
 For not confined, with master hand to trace. 
 
 The living likeness, and familiar face ; 
 
 To free the Portrait from minute detail. 
 
 And o’er the cold fac-simile prevail : 
 
 His pencil soars to History’s higher sphere, 25 
 
 And Genius still directs his proud career. 
 
 Whether, allured to stray in flowery groves. 
 
 Where blooming nymphs recline in green alcoves. 
 
56 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Or led, in lofty thought and bold design. 
 
 Thro’ all the Virtues — to their source divine ; 30 
 
 Whether, he sport in Fiction’s fairy clime. 
 
 Or give to view, the glorious facts of time ; 
 
 In Passion’s fiery tempests plunge, and there 
 Arrest the fixed — grim feature of Despair ; 
 
 Still o’er the scene, where’er his fancy leads, 35 
 
 The flowers of taste spring forth as he proceeds ; 
 Prompt at his call, the powers of Art obey. 
 
 And Truth, and Nature, consecrate his sway. 
 
 See playful Puck— transferred fromShakspeare’s page, . 
 With fairy grace, and infant glee engage ; 40 
 
 O’er all his frame the mirthful mischief glows. 
 
 Thrills thro’ each limb, and tingles in his toes ; 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 ii 
 
 We trace the roguish thought — the purpose sly — 
 
 The laugh electric — twinkling in his eye ; 
 
 Th’ inspiring soul of fun, where’er he flies, 45 
 
 A thousand forms of freak and frolic rise ; 
 
 Capricious pranks, and tickling whimseys reign. 
 
 And giddy gambols follow in his train. 
 
 Here, prompt to aid in every wanton scheme,* 
 
 And weave o’er Bottom’s brows, the witching dream ; 
 
 * Doctor Johnson, in one of his notes on Shakspeare, states, that 
 “ In fairy mythology, Puck, or Hobgoblin, was the trusty servant of 
 Oberon, and always employed to watch or detect the intrigues of 
 queen Mab — called by Shakspeare, Titania. — Puck’s own account 
 of himself is ludicrous and characteristic : 
 
 “ Thou speak’st aright, 
 
 I am that merry wanderer of the night. 
 
 I jest to Oberon, and make him smile. 
 
 When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, 
 
 Neighing in likeness of a silly foal : 
 
 And sometimes lurk I in a gossip’s bowl. 
 
58 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 The Elfin sits — where fairy flowers abound, 51 
 
 And from his toad-stool scatters charms around. 
 
 The young Alcides, next, with awe behold,* 
 
 A demi-deity, renowned of old ; 
 
 In very likeness of a roasted crab ; 
 
 And when she drinks, against her lips I bob. 
 
 And on her withered dewlap pour the ale. 
 
 The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale. 
 
 Sometimes for three-foot stool mistaketh me. 
 
 Then slip I from her bum, down topples she. 
 
 And tailor cries, and falls into a cough, 
 
 And then the whole quire hold them hips and laugh. 
 And waxen in their mirth, and neeze and swear, 
 
 A merrier hour was never wasted there.” 
 
 Midsummer Night’s Dream. 
 
 This exquisite representation of “ that shrewd and knavish sprite 
 called Robin Goodfellow,” is the property of Samuel Rogers, Esq. 
 the distinguished Poet; 
 
 The Bard of Memory, — whose pure strain supplies 
 Those pleasures he has taught us how to prize. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 59 
 
 His mighty frame the future giant proves, 5f 
 
 The god, tremendous in his cradle moves ; 
 
 White yet a child, the powers of strength appear, 
 
 He seems already, ripe for his career ; 
 
 To Danger’s lap with daring love resorts, 
 
 And preludes to his labours — in his sports. 
 
 While o’er his couch terrific serpents rear 
 Their speckled crests— and for their prey prepare, 
 
 Mr. Rogers also contributed several other excellent pictures to 
 the Exhibition. The Cupid and Psyche, the Sleeping Girl, and 
 Strawberry Girl. 
 
 * This picture is the study made for the large picture of “ Hercules 
 strangling the Serpents,” painted for the late Empress of Russia. 
 It is much to be regretted, that this work, which is one of the 
 largest and most splendid productions of Sir Joshua’s pencil, has not 
 remained amongst us, as a trophy of his taste and an ornament of his 
 country. 
 
60 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Sublime, in self-collected might he glows. 
 
 And darts an eye indignant on his foes : 
 
 His lips, with energy divine compressed, 65 
 
 His chin half buried in his swelling chest. 
 
 With what dread force, undaunted ac he lies. 
 
 The vigorous infant seizes on his prize : 
 
 Beneath his grasp, their writhing folds untwine. 
 
 Their eye-balls bursting from their sockets shine ; 70 
 Foul vapours from their gasping jaws expire. 
 
 And flames dart hissing from their tongues of fire. 
 
 Here, Cupid pouts to find his mother chide,* 
 
 And wipes his eyes — and whimpers at her side ; 
 
 * From the collection of Sir Thomas Bernard, Bart, whose zeal 
 and activity in the service of the Arts, entitle him to the acknow- 
 ledgments of every friend to their promotion. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 With serious air, the Goddess tries to blame 
 His blunted arrows, and his careless aim ; 
 
 Forbids his idle sports with faithful hearts, 
 
 And threats, no more to trust him with her darts. 
 
 To catch the simple grace — untutored — wild. 
 As Nature’s hand presents the cherub child ; 
 While each loose limb in careless action moves, 
 And no stiff rule th’ elastic spring reproves. 
 
 Was Reynolds’ passion, — much he loved to trace, 
 While yet unspoiled, the Lilliputian race ; 
 
 Ere tyrant Fashion — toiling hard to please. 
 
 Had buckram’d dignity, and banished ease. 
 
 Oft too, contrasting, in his sportive hours. 
 
 Their pictured characters, and pigmy powers. 
 
63 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 He marks in mock sublime, each infant grace. 
 
 And gods, and warriors, frown with dimpled face : 90 
 Thus, baby Joves, their tiny thunders wield. 
 
 And little Hanibals — defy the field ; 
 
 ’Midst clustering grapes, a bold boy Bacchus view. 
 While tyrant Harry, struts — in chubby Crewe. 
 
 But chief, the Infant School of art displays,*- 95 
 His pencil’s spirit, and his palette’s blaze. 
 
 There, Humour triumphs — there, burlesqued appear, 
 The prim position — and affected leer : 
 
 So pure a grace of gaiety and whim. 
 
 Laughs in each look, and sports in every limb ; 1 00 
 
 While self-pleased Folly seems so slily hit. 
 
 So glows, the progeny of Taste and Wit ; 
 
 * The Infant Academy, from the Collection of Lord Palmerston, 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 G3 
 
 ’Tis, as from heaven, a groupe of Cupids came. 
 
 To bring the vixen Vanity to shame ; 
 
 To fix the shaft in Fashion’s feathery brain, 105 
 
 And free the Graces from his awkward reign ; 
 
 To rescue Beauty — by his hand defaced ; 
 
 And lead the Fair to Nature, Truth, and Taste. 
 
 Hail, Beauty, hail ! Etherial beam that plays 
 On human hearts, and kindles Passion’s blaze ! 110 
 
 His fires to thee, immortal Genius owes. 
 
 Of thee enamoured still his bosom glows ; 
 
 Blessed in thy smile, he burns with double flame, 
 
 And tastes his heaven on earth — in love, and fame ; 
 The only joys a care-worn world can give, 115 
 
 Which make it bliss — to feel, and life — to live. 
 
64 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Sun of his world ! as to the orb of day, 
 
 The flower reverting, drinks its vital ray. 
 
 To thee, the painter, turns his eye — his heart. 
 
 His lamp of life ! — his light and heat of Art ! 120 
 
 Thy visions beaming o’er his fate, diffuse 
 The glow of Taste— the lustre of the Muse ; 
 
 They chear his arduous progress, and repair 
 The wrongs of Fortune, in his course of care. 
 
 Warm at her shrine, when Reynolds, early paid 125 
 His ardent vows, and first invoked her aid, 
 
 The Goddess, soon, her favourite’s claim allowed, 
 
 And drew her votary, from the vulgar crowd ; 
 
 Led him to fields, which no rude step defiles; 
 
 On Nature’s lap, where infant Beauty smiles; iso 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 65 
 
 To secret bowers, where oft', reclined of yore ; 
 
 For Zeuxis’ sake, fair Helen’s form she wore : 
 
 Where, full revealed — in all her heaven of charms. 
 
 She blessed Apelles — in Campaspe’s arms. 
 
 Where Titian too, more recent, wont to rove, 135 
 'Midst Loves and Graces — favourite of the grove ; 
 
 Her image traced, thro’ every form and hue. 
 
 With rapture wrought, and rivalled as he drew. 
 
 Here, Reynolds oft’ with Taste, delighted strayed. 
 And caught some nymph divine, in every shade. 140 
 To meet his eye, where’er the master moved. 
 
 The bowers grew brighter, and the paths improved ; 
 
 In glowing groups, the Graces, sought to shine, 
 
 And asked for life — in his immortal line. 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Fired by the scene, he seized the sportive band,* 145 
 The gay creation bloom beneath his hand. 
 
 As round his magic glass, the nymphs repair. 
 
 And Love, and Beauty, leave their image there. 
 
 Here, first, in cool embowering shade reposed, 
 
 Her form unveiled — her eyes in slumber closed, 150 
 A nymph, he found, with Iphigenia’s air,f 
 And drew with faithful hand, the dazzling fair, 
 
 * To particularise the various subjects of this kind, which in the 
 present collection deserve attention and admiration, would too much 
 extend this work, and occasion an ungraceful repetition of the terms 
 of Art, but no praise can exaggerate the merits of the “ Nymph and 
 Boy,” “the Snake in the Grass,” “ Venus and Cupid,” and “Sleeping 
 Boy.” 
 
 t Cymon and Iphigenia. This splendid example of all that is 
 warm, rich, and harmonious in colouring, is in the collection of 
 the Marchioness of Thomond. Her Ladyship, contributed more 
 largely, than any other person, to the magnificent display of art 
 which reflected so much honour on the genius of her Uncle, and 
 which, she must have witnessed with such peculiar exultation. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 67 
 
 As Sol, to aid him, sent a golden gleam, 
 
 And thro’ the burning branches shot his beam ; 
 
 While Cymon, stealing soft — by Cupid led, 155 
 
 To view the beauty, on her flowery bed, 
 
 With wonder gazes, and as passion fires. 
 
 To win the glorious prize of love aspires. 
 
 Yet, true to moral, tho’ with humour sly, 
 
 Expression’s pencil marks the meaning eye ; 160 
 
 Tho’ cloudless there — in all the blaze of light. 
 
 The orb of beauty — bursts upon the sight, 
 
 No touch impure, pollutes the pencil’s aim. 
 
 Or burns on virgin cheeks, the blush of shame : 
 Disdaining all the coarse allures of sense, ] 65 
 
 A polished archness sports without offence, 
 
THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 68 
 
 Aspires to touch with chaster hand the heart. 
 
 And hits the mark — hut not with poisoned dart. 
 
 No painter, he, who does not love to trace 
 The form of Beauty — bright in native grace, 170 
 Fresh, as from Nature’s hand, the fair is found, 
 
 A living lustre! — beaming heaven around : 
 
 And pure, the glowing toil, when undebased 
 The heart of Genius, and the hand of Taste : 
 
 But sure, no scorn too bitter, can pursue, 175 
 
 Or hiss, reviling, from the public view. 
 
 The venal slave, who, sold to sin and shame, 
 
 The scandal of his country, and his name; 
 
 To purpose base can prostitute his art, 
 
 And in the Painter — act the pander’s part. 
 
 180 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 69 
 
 The desperate wretch, who rushes wild abroad, 
 
 And risks his life, to rob the public road, 
 
 While starving infants stretched beneath his shed, 
 
 In piercing peal, vociferate — for bread : 
 
 The profligate, in vice and folly deep, 185 
 
 Who lulls his conscience, and his creed asleep. 
 
 Who wastes his life in outrage, and offence. 
 
 And riots in each rank debauch of sense ; 
 
 Have, each, some specious palliative to plead. 
 
 Some powerful passion — or imperious need, 190 
 
 Which finding Virtue’s vulnerable part, 
 
 By sap, or storm, subdues the enfeebled heart ; 
 
 They pay, themselves, the forfeit of their crimes, 
 
 A warning, not a wound, to future times. 
 
70 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 But he, who, at his easel, safe retired ; 195 
 
 By neither want impelled, nor passion fired ; 
 
 Can there, the noblest gifts of heaven employ, 
 
 To poison deep, the purest springs of joy : 
 
 I Who, like the mad Ephesian, in his aim, 
 
 I 
 
 Wou’d launch thro’ time a reprobated name, 200 
 
 j 
 
 Wou’d fling his brands — ’gainst Dian’s temples hurled. 
 And fire the moral structure of the world : 
 
 For him, who, virtue's most degraded foe. 
 
 Corrupts e’en Taste, to strike the coward blow ; 
 
 The cold-blood culprit, whose ambitious crime, 205 
 Wou’d stimulate the lust of future time ; 
 
 For him, no hope of pardon can remain. 
 
 And Mercy pleads for his offence in vain.* 
 
 * In a former publication the author has touched on this subject. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 71 
 
 But still, her theme, th' applausive verse invites. 
 And Taste, reproachful, points to prouder flights; 210 
 To flights, sustained in Passion’s stormy clime. 
 
 Where Painting soars, on moral wing sublime ; 
 
 Each nobler attribute of Art combines, 
 
 And, with her own — the Poet’s wreath entwines. 
 
 Lo ! where displayed, in Dante’s dreadful tale,* 215 
 
 The pencil’s labours, o’er the lyre prevail ; 
 
 but no opportunity should be lost, to guard the honourable purity of 
 the British school from this foreign pollution : to hold up to con- 
 tempt and detestation, an offence, which degrades the noblest of 
 Arts to an immoral engine of the most pernicious influence, and sinks 
 the painter and his patron, to the same low level of vulgar depravity. 
 Among the many eminent native artists, whose genius, at present, 
 reflects lustre on this country, the author declares with pride, that 
 he believes, there is not one example of a mercenary departure from 
 the moral dignity of the Arts, or one instance, in which the pencil 
 has been dishonoured in the service of sensuality. 
 
 * Count Ugoiino and his Children in the dungeon ; from the 
 
72 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Impress the soul, beyond the Minstrel’s art. 
 
 And thrill with sympathy, the swelling heart. 
 
 Aghast with horror — sits the hoary Sire, 
 
 While, at his feet, his famished Sons expire ; 220 
 
 Mute are his pangs— his grief no utterance needs. 
 
 The father’s heart — in every feature bleeds. 
 
 In his sad eye “ no speculation” ’s found. 
 
 He gazes — not regards — the scene around ; 
 
 A fixed— straight-forward— sightless look— that shews. 
 The sense is absent — bl ooding o’er his woes. 226 
 
 collection of the Duke of Dorset. The late Lord Orford, in his 
 Anecdotes ot Painting, pays a just tribute of commendation to the 
 extraordinary merit of this work, and exclaims “ In what age were 
 paternal despair, and the horrors of death, pronounced with more 
 expressive accents than in the picture of Ugolino ?” 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 73 
 
 That marks the soul shut up — enclosed with Care, 
 Imprisoned — in the dungeon of despair. 
 
 Already, sunk in death, his Gaddo falls, 
 
 The first set free from those relentless walls : 
 
 With haggard aspect, and exhausted force, 
 
 His brother, half sustains the livid corpse ; 
 
 In vain, for help, exclaims with frantic air, 
 
 And shudders at the fate — he soon must share. 
 
 A dismal gleam, the deadly visage shews, 
 
 And lights Affection — to her worst of woes ; 
 
 Sheds o’er th’ appalling scene so dire a day. 
 
 The cold, dark tomb — were refuge from its ray. 
 The young Anselmo, too, — his darling boy. 
 
 230 
 
 235 
 
 His winter’s blossom, and his age’s joy : 
 
 240 
 
74 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Clings to his knees, and twining round his arms, 
 In piteous accents, utters wild alarms. 
 
 Calls on his love, for aid he can’t impart. 
 
 And looks- — a look — to freeze a father’s heart. 
 By sudden tempest blighted — wan, and weak. 
 The rose has perished on his palid cheek : 
 
 Where bloom, and health in downy dimples lay. 
 Gaunt famine feeding, wastes her infant prey. 
 Yet, tho’ in his changed look, no more we trace, 
 The peachy softness, and the cherub grace, 
 
 Tho’ pain, and terror, each sharp feature share. 
 The pitying eye, beholds the angel there ; 
 
 Beholds — and weeps — that saddest sight below. 
 
 245 
 
 250 
 
 The face of Innocence — in fear and woe. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 75 
 
 But what sad victim here, of crimes untold,* 255 
 Arrests the sight, — that shudders to behold ? 
 
 With conscience more contending than with death, 
 Ambitious Beaufort, yields his parting breath. 
 
 ' 
 
 * The Death of Cardinal Beaufort, originally painted for the 
 Shakspeare Gallery, now the property of the Earl of Egremont. 
 
 This is one of the works, upon which, the advocates of Reynolds 
 will be disposed to rest his claim to be considered as the rival of Titian. 
 It would indeed, be difficult to point out a merit of colouring or chiaro 
 scuro, which it does not possess in its most perfect example. The 
 composition of the scene affords an illustration of a principle which 
 Reynolds has inculcated in his Discourses, maintaining in substance, 
 that it is allowable for the Artist, to avail himself of the compositions 
 of his predecessors, provided, he makes them his own, by a judicious 
 adaptation to his purpose. The principal figures in the present 
 group, are taken, with some alteration, from a picture of Poussin, of 
 which, a print is in the author’s possession ; and the ingenuity with 
 which he has moulded his borrowed materials to his subject, amply 
 fulfills the condition upon which, he states such a practice to be 
 admissible. 
 
 The “ busy meddling Fiend ” couched at the pillow of the Car- 
 
76 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION" 
 
 A ghastly grin, denotes— in direful fray. 
 
 He meets the King of Terrors, with dismay; 260 
 He writhes — he raves— convulsed with pain, and fear, 
 And all he dreads hereafter — suffers here. 
 
 For, not the body’s agony, alone. 
 
 We trace in each distorted feature shown; 
 
 dinal, has furnished much food for criticism. All those who honour 
 the Arts so far, as to ascribe to them, a power of discrimination in 
 expression, which Nature herself, would, at such a moment of com- 
 plicated agony, find it ’rather difficult to exemplify, have been dis- 
 posed to consider the introduction of this preternatural personage, 
 as an awkward expedient to evade a difficulty which it was the 
 Painter’s business to overcome.— But the author will not trust him- 
 self with the discussion of this topic, as he fears, it would lead him 
 far beyond the allowable limits of a note. The reader, however, 
 will find Sir Joshua’s judgment, in this instance, vindicated on sound 
 principles, in the “ Memoirs of Reynolds” by Mr. Norlhcote, who, 
 in aid of his own sentiments, quotes an able defence of the same 
 picture, from the Lectures of the late Mr. Opie. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 71 
 
 The busy Fiend, the power of guilt declares, 2G5 
 Tis the soul’s anguish — and the wretch despairs. 
 Beside the bed of death — with upraised hand, 
 
 We see his pious — pitying Sovereign, stand : 
 
 In vain, to touch the sinner’s heart he tries. 
 
 Or wake his hope of mercy in the skies : 270 
 
 Remorse, anticipates the wrath divine. 
 
 In horror plunged, “ he dies and makes no sign/' * 
 Here, passion’s victim — hapless Dido lies,f 
 To love — a self-devoted sacrifice ; 
 
 * “ Lord Cardinal if thou think’st, on heaven’s bliss, 
 
 “ Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. 
 
 “ He dies and makes no sign; O God forgive him! 
 
 King Henry the Vlth, 2 d Part. Act. 5, Scene 5. 
 
 t The Death of Dido, from the sixth book of the iEneid. In the 
 collection of the Marchioness of Thomond. 
 
73 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Far on the wave, the bark appears in sight, 275 
 
 That bears the false yEneas, in his flight : 
 
 Who called by fate, with broken vows repaid, 
 
 Her trusting heart, and all her hopes betrayed. 
 
 While, o’er the pile, the pitchy cloud aspires. 
 
 And Nature, shudders at the crackling fires ; 280 
 
 Consumed by love— she feels no other flame, 
 
 But welcomes death, and forfeits life, and fame. 
 
 In wild affliction venting loud alarms. 
 
 The faithful Anna spreads her frantic arms. 
 
 Hangs o’er her form in fatal pomp arrayed, 285 
 
 And weeps the cruel wound, despair has made. 
 
 While Iris, blooming in a thousand hues. 
 
 And dropping diamonds, in celestial dews, 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 79 
 
 By Juno sent, aloft in air is seen. 
 
 To view with pity, the expiring queen ; 290 
 
 And, bending nearer, as the flames expand. 
 
 She cuts the golden lock, with glowing hand ; 
 
 Due tribute pays to Pluto’s dread control. 
 
 And from the body, frees the struggling soul. 
 
 But lo ! while thunders rock the unhallowed ground. 
 And viewless fiends, in whirlwinds howl around, 296 
 Where Magic’s monsters rise — and grim as death. 
 With all their host of horrors — hail Macbeth.*' 
 
 Here, meet the midnight hags, in impious rites. 
 Communing with the dreary world of sprites ; 300 
 
 * This picture also, was originally painted for the Shakspeare 
 Gallery, and is now the property of the Earl of Egremont. 
 
so 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION" 
 
 Fell Hecate here, upon her hideous throne. 
 
 Of ghastly sculls composed, and human bone ; 
 While each weird sister, at her side sustains. 
 
 Her baleful office in those dire domains ; 
 
 Prepares her philtres — casts her spells around. 
 And calls pale spectres from the vast profound. 
 While dark portents, in visions wild, and vain. 
 From crime, to crime, allure the aspiring Thane ; 
 Inflame his guilty hopes — his fate control, 
 
 And to its centre, shake his daring soul ; 
 
 What shapes of terror strike his wondering eyes ! 
 What awful forms, of mien majestic rise ! 
 
 In misty grandeur move the monarch shades. 
 
 Till lost afar, the long succession fades. 
 
 305 
 
 310 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 SI 
 
 Here, Banquo, bleeding from the deadly blow, 315 
 With vengeful aspect frowns upon his foe 5 
 And points the mirror where, reflected strong, 
 
 A second, sceptej ed pageant stalks along. 
 
 Blue flames, beneath the boiling cauldron flare, 
 
 And o’er the cavern cast a dismal glare, 320 
 
 Where, things most foul and monstrous, rush to sight. 
 And goblins, glimmer in the dusky light: 
 
 While, hand in hand — of airy form and grace, 
 
 A. group, too fair, for witchcraft’s withered race ; * 
 
 * Some controversy is said to have been excited also, on the pro- 
 priety of introducing these figures ; and the Author has heard, that 
 the late Alderman Boydell, for whom the picture was painted, 
 objected to them strongly, as unauthorized by the text of Shakspeare. 
 Reynolds, however, who has proved himself worthy of embodying 
 the conceptions of our immortal Bard, had too just, as well as too 
 
 © 
 
S2 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 In wanton circles wreathe around the fire, 325 
 
 And dance to strains of incantation dire. 
 
 But let me check the lay — too long, I deem. 
 
 The Muse, diffusive o’er a favorite theme, 
 
 exalted an idea of the privileges and proprieties of his Art, to allow 
 his fancy to be fettered by unessential, or subservient considerations. 
 His pencil was not to be trammelled in tame, or servile imitation. 
 He, very properly, conceived himself entitled to compose in the 
 spirit, rather than according to the letter of his author — to avail 
 himself of all those accessories of characteristic impression, and pic- 
 turesque effect, which are congenial to the nature of his Art, and often 
 essential to its excellence : in short, he considered himself called on, to 
 paint the scene, as the poet himself would have represented it, if he had 
 been a painter. The poet, or the artist, who translates, or illustrates 
 an author on any other principle, may follow him with fidelity and 
 reverence, but will never represent him with spirit and grace. He 
 may be the imitator, but he will never be the rival of his original. 
 Few, who have attended to the graphic influence of contrast, in 
 strengthening character, deciding passion, and urging to its utmost 
 limits, the general impression of the scene, will regret the exercise 
 of the pictorial privilege in question, on the present occasion. 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 83 
 
 Has strayed ; nor thought how few such theme can please, 
 Or touch in times “ so out of joint " as these. 330 
 Unmindful too, how feebly flows the line. 
 
 Which thus aspires to paint thy powers divine, 
 Immortal Reynolds ! — yet, the strain excuse, 
 
 ’Tis the heart's tribute of a grateful Muse ; 
 
 Nothing more strongly marks the purity of taste which distin- 
 guished the mind of Reynolds, than the complete success with which, 
 he has avoided the vices of dramatic imitation, even in those produc- 
 tions, the subjects of which have been professedly derived from 
 plays. Thus, though he must have often witnessed the performance 
 of Macbeth, yet there is no trace of the Theatre, to be discovered in 
 the present work. Whether we consider the conception of his sub- 
 ject, or the arrangement of his materials, the characters, action, 
 dress, or decoration, he appears to have been wholly uninfluenced 
 by the ostentatious seductions of scenic representation. This abso- 
 lute rejection, or rather indeed, this anxious avoidance of all histrionic 
 aid or embellishment, sufficiently indicates the opinion of Reynolds 
 as to the practice of studying the pictures of the Stage ; which has 
 been not unfrequently, recommended to the painter. 
 
84 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 A Muse, whose fancy still, thy fires inflame, 
 
 Who feels thy worth, and would assert thy fame. 
 Dare she but hope, her rough unpolished rhymes. 
 Might sound amid the songs of future times ; 
 Cou’d she, like Byron, pour the lay that lives, 
 
 And makes immortal the renown it gives : 
 
 Or touch, like Moore, the Muses’ sweetest lyre, 
 
 In strains, that love, or glory might inspire ; 
 Then, when decayed,— -like all that blooms below. 
 Thy breathing canvas shall no longer glow; 
 When years, o’er years revolving, shall deface 
 Thy forms of beauty, and thy turns of grace ; 
 When, like Apelles, now,— a name alone, 
 
 Thy pencil’s trophies shall no more be shown, 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 85 
 
 Antd quite withdrawn, thy orb's reflected rays. 
 
 Butt faintly tinge the floating clouds of praise ; 3^0 
 
 Thten, shou’d her verse, with each fond record vie,— » 
 Thee failing evidence of Art supply; 
 
 Unt equalled still, transmit thy triumphs down, 
 Deeep-heard amid the echoes of renown ; 
 
 Exiulting spread thy fame thro’ every clime, 355 
 
 Ancd peal thy glories in the ear of Time. 
 
 Exclusive praise, shall Rome, or Venice claim. 
 Whole favored Britain boasts her Reynolds’ name ? 
 
 By rival states, with taunting sneer surveyed, 
 
 Ancd stigmatised, — as plodding sons of trade, 360 
 
 Shadl we reject the wreath his taste bestows? 
 
 Antd justify the slanders of our foes ? 
 
86 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 O’erlook the fund of fame his powers supply. 
 
 Our Arts dishonour, and our clime decry ? 
 
 No, just to Genius, tho’ beneath our skies, 365 
 
 The native plant, in strength spontaneous rise, 
 
 Let Albion claim due honours for her son, 
 
 And proudly wear the laurels he has won ;* 
 
 With grateful zeal, past apathy atone, 
 
 And in his triumphs, — vindicate her own. 370 
 
 And you, ye Sons of Art ! whose souls disdain, 
 
 To plod, and prosper — in the paths of gain ! 
 
 Who touched by Taste, to Painting’s shrine repair, 
 And crowd, as votaries, or as victims there ; 
 
 * Mr. Burke, in the eloquent character of his friend, published 
 immediately after nis death, justly observes, that “ he was the first 
 Englishman wl o added the praise of the elegant Aits, to the other 
 glories of his country.” 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 81 
 
 Approach — with eager step, approach, and pay 375 
 
 Your homage here — where Truth and Nature sway. 
 
 Behold his bright example, and pursue, 
 
 The proud career he opens to your view. 
 
 Behold, and while ambitious thoughts inflame 
 
 Your rising hopes, to rival Reynolds’ fame ; • 380 
 
 Reflect, tho’ graced with all the powers of mind, 
 
 That mark a soul for lofty flight designed ; 
 
 By patient study still, he sought to rise, 
 
 And time, and toil, esteemed his best allies. 
 
 In him, Ambition’s purest passion glowed,* 385 
 
 And prized no wreaths, but those good sense bestowed, 
 
 * About twenty lines of this passage, liave been taken from a 
 former work of the author’s. They are now inserted here, as appro- 
 priate to the design of the present publication. 
 
88 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 With candour fraught, yet free without offence ; 
 
 The mildest manners, and the strongest sense ; 
 
 The best example, and the brightest rule ; 
 
 His life, a lesson, and his Art, a school : 390 
 
 Behold him, run his radiant course, and claim. 
 
 Thro’ half an age, an undisputed fame ; 
 
 Still to the last, sustain his proudest height. 
 
 Nor drop one feather in so bold a flight. 
 
 But Fate, at length, with darker aspect frowned, 395 
 And sent a shaft that brought him to the ground ; 
 Obscured the glowing sky, so long serene, 
 
 And cast in shades of night — his closing scene. 
 
 In Leo, thus, when Sol refulgent reigns. 
 
 And Summer fervors scorch the panting plains ; 400 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 Nor mists appear, nor exhalations rise, 
 
 To dull the dazzling radiance of the skies ; 
 
 Till downward verging in his course divine, 
 
 A milder lustre marks the day’s decline ; 
 Ascending slow, an earthy vapour shrouds. 
 
 His parting splendors, and he sets in clouds. 
 
 But, in his works, we see his spirit breathe, 
 And Glory crowns him with a double wreath : 
 His pen, and pencil, equal light impart, 
 
 And Letters, yield him palms, as well as Art. 
 The glowing precepts in his practice traced. 
 Receive, and reverence, as the Code of Taste. 
 The laws by Nature sanctioned, long endure. 
 His rule is reason, and his sway secure. 
 
DO 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 Already, founded on his stile, behold, 415 
 
 The British School superior powers unfold ; 
 
 Subdue the prejudice of Taste, and prove 
 Their just pretensions to their country’s love; 
 
 'Midst Europe’s Arts, their equal trophies claim. 
 
 And with the sword’s — unite the pencil’s fame. 420 
 Led by his light, shall Britain’s Genius rise. 
 
 And wrest from rival climes the graphic prize ; 
 
 To heights, beyond the boast of time attain. 
 
 And add new triumphs to a Brunswick’s reign. 
 
 For, when the thunder sleeps, and War’s red hand. 
 
 In his own breast shall plunge his baffled brand ; 426 
 
 When Peace, once more, her guardian wings shall spread. 
 And Arts, rejoicing, rear the drooping head; 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 91 
 
 A patron Prince, shall call their wonders forth, 
 
 Revive their vigour, and reward their worth ; 430 
 
 Redeem the generous pledge he gave, and raise * 
 
 His noblest trophies,— in his people praise. 
 
 # At the dinner of the Royal Academy, given in May 1811, the 
 Prince Regent, who, for many years, condescended to honour with his 
 presence, this Annual Festival of the Arts, expressed sentiments of 
 attachment to their interests, which, will be long remembered by 
 those who were present on the occasion. 
 
 With an energy, and eloquence which, in a speech evidently pro- 
 ceeding from the impulse of the moment, must have surprised the 
 most experienced orator, His Royal Highness, delivered an address 
 calculated to give the highest impression of his liberality, and to excite 
 the warmest expectation of that patronage and protection of the Arts, 
 which, policy and munificence, alike dictate to an enlightened prince. 
 
 His Royal Highness, commenced by observing, that although he 
 was aware, there were many noblemen and gentlemen present, better 
 qualified than he was, to speak on the subject, yet, he could not resist 
 the desire he telt, to express his gratification at the extraordinary dis- 
 play of excellence, which the walls of the Academy that day presented 
 to their view. As an Englishman, he felt proud of the genius of hi* 
 
92 
 
 THE COMMEMORATION 
 
 country. He saw around him, portraits, of which, a Vandyke might 
 boast; and landscapes, which Claude himself, would not blush to own : 
 in short, in every department of Art, he beheld examples of excellence, 
 which reflected equal credit on the Academy and the Country. As 
 an Englishman, (H:s Royal Highness again observed, with great 
 energy) he exulted to behold a progress so conspicuous in those liberal 
 pursuits, which are as useful, as they are ornamental to a state : and 
 he had no doubt, that Great Britain, would soon be as distinguished 
 in Aits, as she was powerful in Arms, as she was pre-eminent in 
 public happiness, and superior, in her constitution, her laws, and her 
 liberties. In the situation in which he was placed, (His Royal 
 Highness declared) it would always be his pride, to assist in the cul- 
 tivation of objests so important to the prosperity, and so ennobling to 
 the character of a people. He would, with pleasure, avail himself of 
 every opportunity, to co-operate with the laudable endeavours of the 
 Academy, and nothing on his part, should be wanting, to second the 
 gracious intention of His Majesty, in the formation and establishment 
 of that Institution. 
 
 I he speech ot His Royal Highness, of which, a mere outline is here 
 attempted from recollection, was received with the most enthusiastic 
 applause. The friends of taste, anticipated with delight, the happy 
 results, which may be expected from the influence of such enlightened 
 sentiments, and trusted, they would no longer, be lelt to labour unas- 
 sisted, in the great cause which they have undertaken. The Artist, felt 
 his bosom glow with hope, and exultation, to And the influence ot his 
 
OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 93 
 
 Art so justly appreciated : his mind kindled, at the prospect of 
 patronage so powerful and inspiring, and he looks forward with 
 confidence, to a period, when Genius, shall derive his noblest stimulus 
 from the liberality of the Sovereign, and his noblest subjects, from tht 
 triumphs of the State. 
 

 
The following account of the Commemoration Dinner given by the 
 Directors of the British Institution, in honour of Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, was written by Mr. Perry, and published in the Morning 
 Chronicle, 10th May, 1813. It is here reprinted, as connected with 
 the subject of the preceding work, and as furnishing the fullest, and 
 most accurate record of an event so interesting to the friends of Art. 
 
 COMMEMORATION OF SIR J. REYNOLDS. 
 
 Th e Fete of Saturday last, was a proud day for the 
 Arts of England, for it presented an assemblage of 
 Pictures, all by the hand of one English Master, such 
 as no country upon earth could rival; and the rooms 
 of the British Institution, though adorned by 
 about one hundred and thirty of Sir Joshua Rey- 
 
 h 
 
9S 
 
 COMMEMORATION OF 
 
 nolds’s performances, do not contain more than a 
 specimen of his labours ; as, perhaps, not fewer than 
 three thousand pictures in all, have issued from his 
 easle. A gentleman in the rooms, told us he actually 
 possessed near seven hundred different engravings 
 from his works, and it is obvious that few of his 
 many family pictures, were ever engraved. The 
 Managers of the British Institution, in resolving 
 upon this affectionate tribute to the memory of Sir 
 Joshua, have taken the most efficacious course for 
 the ultimate promotion of their first, object, that of 
 forwarding the progress of the English School, by 
 spreading over the public mind a correct taste for the 
 Fine Arts, and by warming youthful genius into 
 enthusiasm, by the honours thus paid to departed 
 excellence. Prizes and premiums may do much 
 with some tempers, but they have too much affinity 
 with commercial feeling, to stimulate the ardour of 
 genuine ambition. We are sure that the student 
 who shall behold this unrivalled collection, and listen 
 to the public sentiment which it excites, will not 
 merely, be proud of belonging to the Academy ot 
 
SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 99 
 
 which he was the President ; but will feel the glow- 
 ing spirit of emulation stir him to the pursuit of rival 
 glory. It is indeed a most animating spectacle, and 
 must be as favourable in its consequences, as it is gra- 
 tifying in itself. The variety of the subjects — the 
 poetical character which breathes in every production, 
 and which advances each individual portrait to the 
 rank of a history; the grandeur, chastened by the 
 simplicity of the compositions — the felicity of adap- 
 tation, both of colouring and of accessaries to the 
 chief object — every thing contributed to impress on 
 the company who partook of this festival, the most 
 delicious and unmixed delight, both as patriots zealous 
 for the honour of the country, and as amateurs fervent 
 in the promotion of the Art. 
 
 The Managers determined to open the exhibition 
 by a meeting, to commemorate the Artist. For this 
 purpose it was resolved to make a temporary com- 
 munication from the House of the Institution, to 
 Willis’s great hall, in King-street, for the dinner, and 
 to keep the exhibition rooms unincumbered, to serve 
 as drawing rooms for the company. His Royal 
 
100 
 
 COMMEMORATION OF 
 
 Highness the Prince Regent honoured the meeting 
 with his presence ; he continued an hour in the Ex- 
 hibition before dinner, and entered the room about 
 half past six. He was placed in a chair of state, and 
 the Marquis of Stafford, at his right hand, discharged 
 the duties of chairman for the day. 
 
 There were also present — 
 
 Marquis Camden ; Earls, of Liverpool, Harrowby, 
 Bathurst, Mulgrave, Aberdeen, (President of the 
 Antiquarian Society,) Ashburnham, Grosvenor, Grey, 
 Cowper, Hardwicke, Egremont, Harcourt, Upper 
 Ossory; Lords, Castlereagh, Amherst, Brownlow, 
 Borringdon, Dundas, De Dunstanville, Falmouth, 
 Harewood, Crewe ; The Right Hon. the Speaker, 
 C. B. Bathurst, Charles Long, Sir W. Scott; Sirs, 
 G. Beaumont, T. Bernard, Abraham Hume; Generals, 
 Phipps, Hammond, Turner; Messrs. Angerstein, 
 Davis, Duncombe, Hope, Knight, W. Smith, Sheri- 
 dan, Whitbread, The President and Royal Academi- 
 cians; in all, about one hundred and forty persons. 
 
 The dinner was conducted rather in the manner 
 of that of a private table, than of a tavern. There 
 
SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 101 
 
 were no professional singers, and the toasts were not 
 accompanied with the usual demonstrations of ap- 
 plause. The Noble President introduced the toast 
 to the memory of the Great Master, whose works 
 and whose virtues they were this day assembled to 
 commemorate, with a graceful tribute to his high 
 merits; His Royal Highness and all the company 
 stood up, and received the toast with that sentiment 
 of l’everence and affection for the memory of Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds, which every lover of the Fine Arts 
 must feel. 
 
 Mr. West, on his health being drank, coupled with 
 that of the Royal Academy, over which he so worthily 
 presides, returned thanks in a short speech, in which 
 he expressed his gratitude for the signal mark of 
 favour shewn on this day, to the memory of the 
 eminent person whose powerful genius had, under 
 the fostering auspices of the illustrious family on the 
 tin one, raised the English School to its present 
 celebrity. Every Memeber of the Academy felt the 
 high honour done to this body, in the tribute paid to 
 their former President. 
 
102 
 
 COMMEMORATION OF 
 
 The Earl of Aberdeen also, as President of the 
 Antiquarian Society, made a short and elegant ad- 
 dress of thanks, when that Society was given as a 
 toast. He said that it ought ever to be remembered, 
 that in the first revolution of the Fine Arts from the 
 barbarism of the middle age, the revival of a correct 
 taste was founded on a reference to, and study of, 
 the admirable fragments of the sculpture of Ancient 
 Greece and Rome, which have been happily preserved 
 to us— and which the great Master, whose memory 
 they were that day assembled to commemorate, had 
 constantly made his models, from the quick judg- 
 ment with which he perceived that the purity and 
 excellence of his art depended on simplicity, nature, 
 and truth. 
 
 His Royal Highness rose at half past nine, and 
 was conducted back to the Exhibition Rooms by the 
 Noble Chairman. The company stopt to drink the 
 health of the Prince Regent again, with the honours, 
 and followed him to the Rooms, which were finely 
 illuminated, and a splendid appearance of ladies 
 heightened the coup d'ceil of the spectacle. Many 
 
SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 103 
 
 more persons of the highest distinction, among whom 
 were several of our Prelates, had also come to the 
 Gallery in the evening, and the promenade continued 
 till a late hour at night, when i he Company departed 
 with the highest sense of the propriety and taste with 
 which the entertainment had been conducted. 
 
 Morning Chronicle, 10 th May, 1813. 
 
THE 
 
 SHADE OF NELSON; 
 
 A 
 
 TRIBUTE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 MEMORY OF THAT IMMORTAL HERO , 
 WHO FELL IN THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR, 
 October 21 , 1805 . 
 
 Nomen, in exemplum, sero servabimus sevo. 
 
TO THE 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 EARL SPENCER; 
 
 UNDER WHOSE NAVAL ADMINISTRATION 
 
 THE IMMORTAL NELSON, 
 
 FIRST EMINENTLY D1TINGUISHED HIMSELF IN THE 
 SERVICE OF HIS COUNTRY, 
 
 THE FOLLOWING TRIBUTE 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS HERO, 
 
 IS 
 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. 
 
THE 
 
 SHADE OF NELSON. 
 
 NOMEN, IN EXEMPLUM, SERO SERVABIMUS «VO- 
 
 What sound is that ? which, ’midst the mighty roar 
 Of triumph, thund’ring loud from shore to shore. 
 
 On Albion’s heart strikes death— unnerves her power, 
 And glooms her hope in — Glory’s brightest hour? 
 
 ’Tis Sorrow’s voice, that vibrates in our ear ! 5 
 
 'Tis Virtue’s sigh — ’tis Valour’s groan we hear ; 
 
 ’Tis Britain’s Genius bids her sons deplore ; 
 
 Tis Victory’s self, cries — Nelson is no more ! 
 
110 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 On Frenzy’s wing, the doleful tidings fly. 
 
 Stun every sense, and stream from every eye ; 1 0 
 
 Thrill thro’ the state, to Freedom’s inmost core, 
 
 While realms dismayed, cry — Nelson is no more ! 
 Swell’d at the sound, the breast of Ocean heaves, 
 
 For Nelson’s fate, through all his bounds he grieves; 
 In tempests rising wild, proclaims his woe, 15 
 
 And to his vengeance, immolates the foe.* 
 
 Ye pow r ers unseen ! ye guardian wings that save. 
 
 On Danger’s giddy brink, the good and brave ! 
 
 Where — where, unmindful of a charge so great, 
 
 Pride of our strength, and pillar of our slate ! 20 
 
 * And to his vengeance, <|-c ] Alluding to the storms which suc- 
 ceeded the battle of Trafalgar, and rendered it impossible tor Lord 
 ■Collingwood to save a single ship of the enemy. 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Where were you then !— -in that disastrous day. 
 
 When War’s blind fury found his noblest prey ? 
 
 Shall tyrants live, though curs’d in ev’ry clime ? 
 Career it still secure, from crime to crime ; 
 
 With fearless frenzy, brave a world combin’d, 25 
 And seem immortal — to molest mankind ? 
 
 While they, whose swords insulted Freedom draws, 
 
 To whom, e’en Peace entrusts her sacred cause : 
 Whose high-born hearts with generous ardour spring 
 To serve their God, their Country, and their King, 30 
 The mark of Fate— still bleed in every sky. 
 
 And victims to their public virtue — die? 
 
 Oh ! what a burst of sorrow breaks around ! 
 Though Nelson falls— ’tis we who feel the wound: 
 
112 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 Death, to our proudest hopes the dart address’d, 35 
 And every patriot feels it in his breast. 
 
 No more, while Heaven resounding rings with praise, 
 The Victor comes to greet his Country’s gaze, 
 
 In sad procession — midst a mournful throng. 
 
 Behold his sacred relics borne along ! 40 
 
 That visage pale — that voice no longer heard ; 
 
 In death decay’d — that form to all endear’d : 
 
 That eye for ever clos’d, which, stedfast — bold. 
 
 Each direful face of danger could behold ! 
 
 Beside his bier — with speechless grief oppress’d, 45 
 Lo ! Public Virtue, bares her throbbing breast ; 
 
 Before, flush’d Victory, wiih her palm appears, 
 
 And while she sounds his triumphs — sheds her tears. 
 
OF NELSON - . 
 
 113 
 
 By Valour led, who bears her fav'rite’s sword. 
 
 See Neptune’s train surround their chief ador’d 50 
 Unwont to weep — unmann’d — bedew his pall, 
 
 And e’en forget their glory — in his fall. 
 
 Must Albion then, bewail her spn's return ! — 
 Embrace her hero — only in his urn ! 
 
 For laurel wreaths, must cypress garlands wave ! 55 
 
 Oh ! must we crown our warrior — in his grave ! 
 
 Is there a heart, with conquest so elate. 
 
 That weeps not — bleeds not — forthe conqueror’s fate? — 
 A head, that coldly sums the battle’s cost. 
 
 And finds aught gain’d— where Nelson’s life was lost? 
 
 Though captur’d hosts the vast achievement show. 
 Though countless trophies speak the prostrate foe, 
 
 i 
 
114 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 Though deeds of wonder wake the world to praise. 
 
 And awe-struck nations — tremble as they gaze. 
 
 Are Victory’s sounds so rare in Albion’s ear, 65 
 
 To drown Affliction’s dirge o’er Nelson’s bier?— - 
 To bid her breast at Fame’s loud trumpet swell. 
 
 Yet hear in every blast — her Hero’s knell ? 
 
 No ! let each eye in tearful tribute flow. 
 
 Let each sad aspect wear the public woe ; 70 
 
 Let Glory’s blaze, subside to Mourning’s gloom. 
 
 And every Virtue weep — o’er Nelson’s tomb ! 
 
 ’Twas thus, the Muse, as powerful feelings press’d. 
 Obey’d the impulse of her labouring breast; 
 
 When lo ! before her eye — in light array’d, 75 
 
 A vision rose — ’twas valiant Nelson’s shade. 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 U5 
 
 Warm as in life, the awful warrior seem’d. 
 
 And round his brows, a wreath of glory beam’d ; 
 
 Illustrious scars, his honours here express’d, 
 
 And Death’s last wound shone star-like on his breast ; 
 
 Bright, as in battle, flash’d his fearless eye, 81 
 
 And as he spoke, Heaven echoed from on high. 
 
 “ Forbear !” he cried, “ forbear the mournful lay, 
 
 “ Nor steep in tears the trophies of the day ; 
 
 “ To strains of rapture wake the patriot lyre ! 85 
 
 “ Let sounds of joy Britannia’s breast inspire ! 
 
 cC Pleas’d, let her twine the wreath for Valour’s head, 
 
 “ And in her living heroes — prize the dead. 
 
 “ Lid her, no more for Nelson, fruitless grieve, 
 
 1 
 
 “ Who, that could die like him, would wish to live ? 90 
 
116 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 “ Who, that by death, enshrin’d in Glory’s eye, 
 
 “ Like him could live — that would not wish to die ? 
 
 “ Heaven, but indulg’d the boon his soul desir’d, 
 
 “ And gave the glorious fate his fame requir’d. 
 
 “ Tell her, since first, in early fancy fram’d, 95 
 
 “ Ambitious thoughts his kindling breast inflam’d, 
 
 “ ’Twas all his wish — his hope — his pride — to prove, 
 
 “ His first — last passion, was his Country’s love ; 
 
 “ To hear awhile her praise — attract her eye, 
 
 “ And in her sacred cause — victorious die. 100 
 
 “ Tell her, though Nelson’s pennant flies no more, 
 “ She has a thousand Nelsons yet in store; 
 
 “ Each, prompt alike, to thwart a tyrant’s will, 
 
 “ And guard ships, colonies, and commerce still. 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 117 
 
 “ Their country’s cause, her hearts of oak inspires, 105 
 “ And each brave tar’s a hero as she fires. 
 
 “ Sound to the echoing skies, each honoured name ! 
 
 *' Friends of his heart, and sharers of his fame ! 
 
 “ For Collingwood — for Northesk, mingling raise 
 “ The song of triumph, with the strain of praise : 110 
 “ kor brave Cornwallis — gallant Sydney,* swell 
 “ Ihe applausive peal — ’tis Nelson’s proudest knell. 
 
 “ But hark ! in distant thunders, once again, "f 
 “ The voiee of Victory rises from the main ! 
 
 “ Strachan proudly pleads his right to fame, ] 15 
 “ And brings his foes — to testify his claim. 
 
 * Sir Sydney Smith. 
 
 t But harh ! in distant thunders, once again.] At the moment of 
 writing the above, arrived the news of Sir Richard Strahan’s victory. 
 
IIS 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 “ Albion, her conquering leaders scarce can crown, 
 
 “ While Fame grows hoarse, rehearsing their renown. 
 
 “ Like echoing hills, her triumphs talk around* 
 
 “ And each peal’s lost in the succeeding sound. 120 
 
 “ What brilliant stars still bless Britannia’s eyes ! 
 
 “ What constellations crowd her naval skies ! * 
 
 “ Bright in the zodiac of her glory burn, 
 
 “ And shed the light of triumph in their turn ! 
 
 which in proportion to the force engaged, deserves, perhaps, to rank 
 with the proudest achievement of naval heroism; nor should its 
 lustre be suffered to lose in its effect upon the public eye, because 
 accidentally mingled in the blaze of that triumph, to which it forms 
 so glorious a sequel. 
 
 * The laurels won in Egypt, in the Peninsula, and indeed, wliere- 
 ever opportunity has called for exertion, have invested with rival 
 splendor, the military reputation of the British empire. The same 
 spirit actuates the defenders of their country, by sea and by land ; 
 and when directed by similar valour and ability, must always be 
 equally formidable on either element, 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 119 
 
 “ Tell her, as Time’s advancing wings unfold, 125 
 “ A race of brave St. Vincents I behold; 
 
 “ New Duncans — Howes — a radiant host appear, 
 
 “ And palms spring forth in every future year ; 
 
 “ Safe in her strength, and steady in her reign, 
 
 “ Successive heroes shall her sway sustain, 130 
 
 “ The foe, through every shape of war pursue, 
 f( Dauntless, alike by sea, and land subdue, 
 
 “ Breathe her bold spirit forth, in every wind, 
 
 “ And wave the flag of Freedom o’er mankind. 
 
 “ O! my lov’d country — lov’d in life — in death ! 135 
 “ Bless’d in my loudest prayer — my latest breath ! 
 
 “ Whose praises yet, my scarce cold bosom swell ; 
 
 “ For whom, 1 zealous fought — and fighting, fell ! 
 
120 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 “ O'er earth unrivalled — honour’d — envy’d — fear’d— 
 
 “ To all thy sons, by thousand charms endear’d ! 140 
 
 “ The pride of Time ! as pond’ring on his way, 
 
 “ He views thy surface, and observes thy sway ; 
 
 “ Beholds thee, star of Neptune’s denser skies ! 
 
 “ Sun of the sea ! in radiant glory rise, 
 
 “ O’er life’s dull waste, a two-fold splendour dart, 145 
 “ And Freedom’s light, with Virtue’s warmth impart. 
 
 “ Immortal Albion ! whose amphibious fame, 
 
 “ The elements of earth, and water claim ! 
 
 “ Whose giant power, War’s wildest fury braves, 
 
 “ Strides o’er the land, and walks upon the waves ! 150 
 “ With arm stupendous strikes the farthest foe, 
 
 “ While empires shake, convulsive from the blow ! 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 121 
 
 “ Still, must thy Nelson’s spirit, hov’ring nigh, 
 
 “ Bend o’er his country’s course, an anxious eye ; 
 i( Still, those sweet sounds, that in the warrior’s ears, 
 
 “ Out-melody the music of the spheres; 156 
 
 “ Those sounds, which erst, endow’d with wond’rous art, 
 “ Through all its chords thrill’d rapture to his heart, 
 
 “ When first his humble name to glory given, 
 
 “ In loud vibration, shook the vaulted heaven ; 160 
 
 “ Still, must those sounds, with nobler names that swell, 
 “ That bolder deeds, and brighter triumphs tell, 
 
 “ Fire his freed soul, on echoing winds convey’d, 
 
 “ And bless in realms of joy, his grateful shade. 
 
 “ Hear, awful Power ! — celestial Sov’reign, hear ! 165 
 “ Before whose thrones, kings tremble to appear ; 
 
122 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 “ Whose aid divine, with humble heart implor’d, 
 
 “ So oft, with conquest, crown’d my feeble sword ; 
 
 “ My war-worn frame sustain’d through fierce alarms, 
 “ And clos’d my course at length — in Victory’s arms ! 
 
 “ Protect my country ! — through the tempest guide 
 “ Britannia’s gallant prow — the ocean's pride ! 172 
 
 “ Support her throne ! assist her sacred cause ! 
 
 “ Preserve her rights, and purify her laws ! 
 
 “To deeds of ancient worth, her warriors fire ; 175 
 
 “ W T ith noblest passions, all her sons inspire ! 
 
 “ From self, and sense, the free-born race refine, 
 
 “ Lead all their thoughts to Public Virtue’s shrine ; 
 
 “ Teach them, to prize the structure Time has tried, 
 
 “ That stands the tempest, and that stems the tide; 180 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 123 
 
 “ To brave the rebels’ rage— the tyrants’ frown, 
 
 “ To live with liberty, and love renown. 
 
 “ For ages cherish’d there — a glowing guest ! 
 
 “ ’Tis Freedom’s spirit breathes in Albion’s breast ; 
 
 “ ’Twas Freedom’s hand, that grasp’d each laurel crown, 
 “ At Cape St. Vincent won, and Camperdown ; 1 86 
 
 “ ’Twas Freedom’s sword Aboukir’s doom that seal’d, 
 “ And fought and conquer’d in Trafalgar’s* field. 
 
 “ ’Tis Freedom’s orb, that beaming in her skies, 
 
 “ Calls forth her virtues — ripening as they rise ; 190 
 
 “ Exhales high feelings from her glowing hearts, 
 
 “ Inflames her genius, and refines her arts. 
 
 * This word, the Author believes, is now, in compliance with the 
 Spanish pronunciation, accented differently : as falling more conve- 
 niently into its place in the verse, however, it is left in the text as 
 originally written. 
 
124 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 “ Led by this sign, o’er Life’s tumultuous wave, 
 
 “ Her pilots skilful, and her people brave, 
 
 “ Britannia, still, shall keep her course sublime, 195 
 “ And sail secure, amidst the storms of Time ; 
 
 “ Extend her fame — on every shore unfurl’d, 
 
 “ Sole hope, and refuge, of a suflf’ring world ! ” 
 
 1 hus spoke the patriot shade, and rising bright. 
 
 The awful vision — vanish’d from the sight. 200 
 
 Immortal chief! beyond the power of Fate, 
 
 Renown’d on earth, to Time’s remotest date ! 
 
 Pure flame of valour ! spar’d awhile from heav’n ! 
 Sword ! to thy country’s strength, a moment given, 
 
 Foi Fi eedom s hand, to wield in wrath below, 205 
 And wreak full vengeance — on the tyrant foe ! 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 125 
 
 Bright as the bolt, that from the angry skies. 
 Through sulph’rous clouds, in awful fury flies, 
 
 To strike some tow’ring structure to the ground. 
 
 And vanish- — midst the smoking ruins round; 210 
 The Hero fell — a fierce electric fire ! 
 
 Shot from the kindling eye of Britain’s ire. 
 
 He struck, with dreadful crash, the floating towers. 
 Proud boast of Gallia’s and Iberia’s powers ! 
 
 In thunder clad once more, his mortal form, 215 
 And vanish’d — ’midst the terrors of the storm. 
 
 No more, let gloom the public brow invest ! 
 
 No more, let sorrow swell the general breast ! 
 
 A different tribute Nelson’s virtues claim, 
 
 Not tears, but triumphs, should attend his name. 220 
 
126 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 Let peals of praise, our nobler feelings prove ! 
 
 When sighs ascend, our heroes blush above. 
 
 Rebuke our weak affection, with a frown — 
 
 And claim their proper homage here — renown ! 
 
 His spirit, still, shall warm through every age, 225 
 Excite our ardour, and direct our rage ; 
 
 From out his tomb, the phantom Fame shall rise. 
 
 And stride the blast, when Albion's lightning flies. 
 
 In War’s wild tempest, breathe his name, and spread 
 Despair’s black shroud, o’er every hostile head. 
 
 Though lost his sword, the warrior’s words shall save. 
 Deep written in the bosom of the brave : 230 
 
 Shall echoing ring — in Valour’s voice reveal’d, 
 
 And work fresh miracles, in every field. 
 
OF NELSON, 
 
 m 
 
 Lo ! through each heart, th’ electric sentence runs ! 
 “ England expects their duty from her sons !” * 
 
 O words of wond’rous virtue ! — awful spell ; 235 
 
 Pronounc’d, by Neptune’s fav’rite ere he fell ! 
 
 * England expects their duty from her sons!] According to the 
 accounts read by the author, the exact words used in the last order 
 issued by the commander in chief on this ever-memorable occasion, 
 were the following : 
 
 “ England expects that every man will do his duty.” 
 
 If the necessity of metrical adaptation had not absolutely required 
 it, the author, would have considered it a kind of sacrilege, to make 
 the smallest alteration in them ; and he cannot avoid expressing a 
 wish, that some means might be devised, of giving them a permanent 
 existence, beyond the passing admiration of the day. 
 
 Such words, falling from such a man, on so important an occasion, 
 
 I and attended by such consequences, should, with pious eagerness, be 
 snatched from the winds, as a Sybil’s leaf of oracular importance, to 
 be deposited not only in our hearts, but in our archives ; to be written 
 not only in our journals and histories, but to be graven on our medals, 
 and emblazoned on the banners of our country. 
 
123 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 Strong charm ! in which his spirit breathes below ! 
 Portentous sounds, to ev’ry shuddering foe ! 
 
 Hear them, ye slaves ! — ye tyrants, trembling hear ! 
 
 Ye cowards ! con them, to repel your fear ! 240 
 
 Emblazon them, ye heralds ! — mark them down ! 
 Henceforth, Britannia's motto of renown ! 
 
 Ye Powers ! invested with the mighty trust. 
 
 To rescue man’s best treasure from the dust ! 
 Commission’d here, departed worth to crown, 245 
 And sound through time, the trumpet of renown ! 
 Unlock your springs — bring all your stores divine ! 
 
 Let all your trophies in the triumph shine ! 
 
 Arouse, ye Bards — ye sons of song arise ! 
 
 Sound your loud harps, ye minstrels, to the skies ! 250 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 129 
 
 And you, ye Arts ! — ye silent powers of fame ! 
 
 Whose shrines preserve the hero, with his name. 
 Whose more than magic mirror brings anew, 
 
 The act — the actor, and the scene to view ; 
 
 Assist the task — the sacred call obey, 255 
 
 Your monumental miracles display ; 
 
 From the rough rock, the breathing statue raise, 
 
 And give his image to our grateful gaze ; 
 
 The Warrior’s form, let future ages trace. 
 
 And mark each scar in mutilated grace ; * 260 
 
 * And mark each scar in mutilated grace ;] Lord Nelson’s person 
 had suffered much mutilation in the various actions in which he had 
 been engaged. As few men had braved so many dangers, so, few 
 could produce so many formidable marks of service. Besides the 
 loss of an eye, and an arm, the testimonials of his prowess were 
 written in many an honourable scar. 
 
 K 
 
ISO 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 Let Painting, too, sweet nymph ! beneath whose hand. 
 The blooms of Health — the hues of Heaven expand ; 
 Whose touch Promethean, life’s warm spark supplies. 
 And lights up love, once more, in Beauty’s eyes : — 
 
 Let Painting, too, the general fervour feel, 265 
 
 In Nelson’s praise, the pencil’s powers reveal ; 
 Preserve each act, in graphic glory graced, 
 
 And gild his triumphs, with the beams of Taste. 
 
 In lines of light, again the hero glows, — 
 
 Again, hurls vengeance on his country’s foes — 270 
 
 Again, on canvass, his great soul resigns. 
 
 And art-embalm’d — on earth, immortal shines. 
 
 Ye sons of Ocean ! — bold amongst the brave ! 
 Guards of Britannia’s empire on the wave ! 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 131 
 
 Who bear the bolts — where’er her thunder’s hurl’d, 
 Rays of her strength — diverging o’er the world ! 276 
 
 How shall our hearts, with grateful zeal that glow. 
 Requite your deeds — discharge the debt we owe ? 
 What mint of honour — mine of wealth, shall pay. 
 
 For power, and fame — for safety, and for sway ? 280 
 
 Long had your prowess o’er the boldest flight 
 Of ancient daring, tower’d an awful height ; 
 
 Such trophies won — such wreaths immortal worn, 
 From Danger’s darkest brow, terrific torn ; 
 
 That flame-ey’d War himself, with wonder gaz'd, 285 
 And Intrepidity, beheld — amaz’d ! 
 
 But, lo ! Trafalgar’s glories rising bright, 
 
 Burst like a comet on the astonish’d sight ; 
 
182 
 
 THE SHADE 
 
 'Midst Albion’s stars the proudest station claim, 
 Eclipse all past, and challenge future fame. 
 
 Grant, gracious powers ! ere yet, in awful state, 
 Britannia, founders in the gulph of Fate ; 
 
 Ere yet her empire’s mighty fabric falls, 
 
 And Time dismantles — e’en her wooden walls, 
 Grant a full course of glory — give her space, 
 
 To put forth all her splendors in the race, 
 
 To shew, how man, on Freedom’s wings may rise, 
 And prove on earth, his kindred to the skies. 
 
 Give her, to blast the ruffian brood of Power, 
 
 To strike Ambition — in his boastful hour : 
 
 290 
 
 295 
 
 300 
 
 To sheath her sword in Anarch’s furious breast. 
 
 And crown with peace, once more, a world oppress’d. 
 
OF NELSON. 
 
 133 
 
 Let gallant Scotia — generous Erin, twine 
 Around her heart, and with her blood combine ; 
 
 With threefold strength, the union flag sustain, 305 
 And swim sublime — three-decker of the main ! 
 
 And when, (the fate of Greece and Rome before,) 
 
 Her sun shall set — her dazzling day be o’er ; 
 
 Let Fame’s full orb reflect her lunar light. 
 
 To cheer mankind through time’s succeeding night, 310 
 Through ev'ry age, attract earth’s wond’ring eye, 
 
 And with the globe itself extinguish’d — die. 
 
' 
 
LINES 
 
 WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF THE LATE 
 
 JOHN OPIE, ESQ. R. A. 
 
 How oft, of late, o’er worth departed shed. 
 
 The tears of Britain have embalmed the dead ; 
 Bewailed the Hero’s fall — the Sage’s fate. 
 
 While public Virtue sorrowed thro’ the state ; 
 Yet still unsated with the noblest prey, 
 Ungorged, tho’ meaner multitudes decay ; 
 ’Gainst Wit and Genius, Death directs his dart, 
 And strikes thro’ Opie’s side to Painting’s heart. 
 
130 
 
 LINES ON THE LATE 
 
 Fallen from the zenith of his proud career ! 
 
 Full in his fame, and sparkling in his sphere ! 
 While o'er his Art he shed his brightest rays. 
 
 And warmed the world of letters into praise. 
 
 No feeble follower of a style or school ; 
 
 No slave of system, in the chains of rule : 
 
 His Genius kindling from within was fired. 
 
 And first in Nature’s rudest wild aspired. 
 
 At her pure shrine his youthful vows he paid, 
 Secured her smile, and sought no other aid ; 
 Enraptured still her charms alone explored. 
 
 And to the last, with lover’s faith adored : 
 
 lor when Ambition bade his steps advance 
 
 To scenes where Painting spreads her vast expanse. 
 
JOHN OPIE, ESQ. R. A. 
 
 1ST 
 
 When all the charts of taste before him lay, 
 
 That showed how former keels had cut their way ; 
 With fearless prow he put to sea, and steered 
 His steady course, where her pure light appeared. 
 
 His vigorous pencil in pursuit of Art, 
 
 Disdained to dwell on each minuter part ; 
 Impressive force — impartial truth he sought, 
 
 And travelled in no beaten track of thought : 
 Unlike the servile herd whom we behold. 
 
 Casting their drossy ore in Fashion’s mould ; 
 
 His metal by no common die is known, 
 
 The coin is sterling, and the stamp his own. 
 
 Opie, farewell — accept this feeble verse, 
 
 This flower of friendship — cast upon thy hearse. 
 
138 
 
 LINES, &c. 
 
 Though Fate severe, in life’s unfaded prime. 
 Hath shook thee rudely, from the tree of time 
 Thy laurel thro’ the lapse of years shall bloom. 
 And weeping Art attend thee to the tomb. 
 While Taste, no longer tardy to bestow 
 The garland due to graphic skill below. 
 
 Shall point to Time thy labours, as he flies, 
 And brighten all their beauties in his eyes : 
 Exalt the Painter, now the Man’s no more. 
 And bid thy country honour and deplore ! 
 
ELLEN 
 
 ’Twas midnight, and bleak blew the breath of Novem- 
 ber, 
 
 The rain half congealed, fast descended in sleet ; 
 
 When Albert, long doomed in despair to remember, 
 From a tavern carousal rushed forth to the street. 
 
 By riot inflamed, past reflection, and feeling. 
 
 He scoffed each poor wanton he met, when a form 
 Gliding swiftly along, as he onward, went reeling. 
 Seemed the spirit of night— sadly braving the storm. 
 
140 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 Unmindful she seemed of the way she was going, 
 
 Her uncovered head on her hand half reclined ; [ing, 
 While behind, her long hair in wild ringlets hung flow- 
 And the body’s neglect spoke the woes of the mind. 
 
 Yet she felt not the blast, tho’ but little availed her, 
 
 A light, mourning mantle disordered, and thin ; 
 
 And ’twas plain, tho’ the wind, cold, and rain sore 
 assailed her, 
 
 That without, ’twas a calm — to the tempest within. 
 
 Tho’ Albert felt awe strike his soul as he viewed her. 
 Yet his libertine eye found her person had charms ; 
 And tho’ Pity had wept, brutal passion pursued her. 
 And fancied some horrible joy in her arms. 
 
ELLEN 
 
 1 4 L 
 
 But soon as her ear his loose accents invaded. 
 
 At his voice wildly starting, her eye flashed around, 
 When a heart-piercing shriek, spoke her anguish unaided. 
 And sudden, and senseless, she fell to the ground. 
 
 Ah ! well might the poor hapless Ellen deplore her. 
 Well sink under sorrows too poignant to bear ! 
 
 For behold ! the base author of all stood before her. 
 
 Of her sufferings past hope — of her wrongs past repair. 
 
 Like a rose-bud she bloomed in old Walsingham’s bower. 
 Breathing sweets o’er the eve of his war-wasted day, 
 ’Twas Albert that blasted the beautiful flower. 
 
 That rifled the rose-bud, and cast it away. 
 
142 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 He came, by the praise of her beauty excited, 
 
 By the fame of her virtues, far-spreading around : 
 
 He saw, and he swore such perfections united. 
 
 That report feebly pictured the angel he found. 
 
 Of honour he talked — the old Soldier received him. 
 Distrust harbours not in the breast of the brave ; 
 
 He vowed purest love — and poor Ellen believed him, 
 But false were his vows, as the wind and the wave. 
 
 Yet ’twas art that beguiled, not her virtue that failed her, 
 7 Twas fraud that betrayed both her heart and her charms, 
 The father distracted, in frenzy bewailed her ; 
 
 The soldier subdued — sunk to death in her arms. 
 
ELLEN. 
 
 143 
 
 Awhile, every function of Nature suspended, 
 
 'Twas thought all the sorrows of Ellen were o’er ; 
 
 But alas ! she revived — a poor orphan unfriended. 
 
 Her false lover fled — and her father, no more. 
 
 [her. 
 
 At his grave, day and night whence no effort could take 
 She sate with fixed eye — a fair statue of woe ; 
 
 Till starting, as some sudden thoughtseemed to wake her. 
 She kissed the cold earth, and cried, “ Father I go,” 
 
 “ ToAlbert, false Albert, poor Ellen is hieing, 
 
 “ Admonished to end her sad sacrifice there ; 
 
 “ At his feet, shall the victim of perfidy dying, 
 Upbraid her despoiler, and bid him despair.” 
 
144 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 Thro' the town, her wild purpose no parent restraining, 
 In vain, long she sought her betrayer to meet ; 
 
 Till at length, not a remnant of reason remaining, 
 
 A poor, friendless maniac, she wandered the street. 
 
 Now she sings her sad fate — in wild melody moving, 
 Now silent — sunk — patient — desponding appears : 
 Now she raves of her father, all patience reproving. 
 Now bemoans her lost lover, and melts into tears. 
 
 'Twas thus, when strong frenzy subsiding to sadness. 
 The grave seemed her only asylum from care ; 
 
 The thought flashed a ray o’er the visions of madness. 
 And death beamed a star, in the night of despair. 
 
ELLEN. 
 
 145 
 
 Resolved, from a world of deceit and disaster. 
 
 To seek in the flood a last refuge she ran ; 
 
 When Fate, the false Albert, again sent to blast her, 
 And end the sad ruin his baseness began. 
 
 But tho’ flushed with debauch, and by Nature unfeeling, 
 Aghast — a mute spectre of horror he stood ; 
 
 When the lamp’s feeble ray his poor victim revealing. 
 Accused his foul conduct, and curdled his blood. 
 
 On the ground — pale — exposed to rough Winter 's worst 
 greeting. 
 
 That form he so oft swore to shield from all harm ; 
 That fond bosom bare— -and that heart hardly beating, 
 Where beauty, and truth had combined every charm. 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 But tho’ lost beyond hope— past all human endeavour, 
 To rescue from death, or to reason restore. 
 
 Yet life, ere it fled its frail mansion for ever, 
 
 Faintly beamed in the eye of poor Ellen once more. 
 
 When reviving to sense— with convulsive emotion, 
 
 “ Alas ! is it you ? cruel Albert !” she cried ; [tion. 
 Then clasped her cold hands— breathed a sigh of devo- 
 i* Oh mercy ! my father !”■ — she faltered, and died. 
 
 Now first, o’er the fate of poor Ellen relenting. 
 
 Her wrongs perjured Albert, too late, would repair. 
 Her sufferings recalling— her ruin repenting ; 
 
 Would purchase with life — a reprieve from despair. 
 
ELLEN. 
 
 14T 
 
 But in vain, would he look for relief in repentance. 
 
 In vain, plunge in pleasure to soften his doom : 
 
 To the guilt- blackened wretch every sound bears his 
 sentence. 
 
 And the bright arch of day’s but a dungeon of gloom. 
 
 When to scenes of loud revel he runs, fondly thinking 
 To drown in debauch all remembrance of care; [ing 
 From the grave — a dread voice — at the moment of drink- 
 Cries “ Albert, I pledge thee — the cup of despair,” 
 
 The minions of wealth strive in vain to amuse him, 
 Poor Ellen’s last words still resound in his ear, 
 
 By day her pale image unceasing pursues him. 
 
 By night draws his curtain, and thrills him with fear. 
 
14S 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 “ Oh Albert” she cries, “ in sad moment we parted, 
 
 “ Sad, sad was the meeting, and wild the adieu ; 
 
 “ How cou’dst thou leave Ellen to die broken hearted, 
 “ The father destroy, and the daughter undo ? 
 
 “ On her cold, clammy cheek now the earth-worm is 
 “ feeding, 
 
 “ Her limbs are stretched out in the bed of the grave ; 
 “ But death was her wish — for her bosom was bleeding, 
 “ And ’tis bliss sure to die — when to live, is to rave : 
 
 “ But Albert, no more on thy pillow reposing, 
 
 “ Can Peace calm the terrible throb of thy breast ; 
 
 “ Thy Ellen’s sad spectre, each vision disclosing, 
 
 “ Must wake thee to woe, and forbid thee to rest. 
 
ELLEN'. 
 
 149 
 
 “ Yet think not in anger, she conies to accuse thee, 
 
 “ ’Tis her pity that speaks when she bids thee beware, 
 “ For the ghost of her father avenging pursues thee, 
 
 “ And the grim fiends of darkness cry — Albert, de- 
 “ spair.” 
 
 London : Printed by W. Bulmer and Co, 
 Cleveland- Row, St. James’s. 
 
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