THE 
 
 PLEASURES 
 
 O F 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 WITH SOME OTHER 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR T. CABELL, IN THE STRAND; AND 
 C. DILLY, IN THE POULTRY. 
 
 MDCCXCIII. 
 
O H could my Mind, unfolded in my page. 
 Enlighten climes and mould a future age ! 
 
 There as it glow’d, with nobleft frenzy fraught, 
 Difpenfe the treafures of exalted thought; 
 
 To Virtue wake the pulfes of the heart, 
 
 And bid the tear of Emulation ftart ! 
 
 Oh could it ftill, thro’ each fucceeding year. 
 
 My life, my manners, and my name endear; 
 And, when the poet fleeps in filent dull. 
 
 Still hold communion with the wife and juft! — ■ 
 Yet fhould this Verfe, my leifure’s belt refource, 
 When thro’ the world it fteals its fecret courfe, 
 
Revive but once a generous wifh fuppreft. 
 
 Chafe but a figh, or charm a care to reft; 
 
 In one good deed a fleeting hour employ. 
 
 Or flulh one faded cheek with honeft joy; 
 
 Bleft were my lines, tho’ limited their fphere, 
 
 Tho’ fhort their date, as his who trac’d them here. 
 
 S. R. 
 
THE 
 
 PLEASURES 
 
 O F 
 
 MEMORY, 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. 
 
 Hoc eft 
 
 Vivere bis, vita poflc priore frui. 
 
 Mart. 
 
 b 
 
THE 
 
 LEASURES 
 
 O F 
 
 EMORY. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Dolce fentier, 
 
 Colle, che mi piacefti, 
 
 Ov’ ancor per ufanza Amor mi mena; 
 Ben riconofco in voi 1’ufate forme, 
 Non, laflb, in me. 
 
 Petrarch. 
 

ANALYSIS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 The Poem begins with the defcription of an 
 obfcure village} and of the plealing melancholy 
 which it excites on being revifited after a long ab- 
 fence. This mixed lenfation is an effeft of the 
 Memory. From an effett we naturally afcend to 
 the caufe; and the fubjeft propofed is then un- 
 folded with an inveftigation of the nature and 
 leading principles of this faculty. 
 
 B 
 
VI 
 
 ANALYSIS OP 
 
 It is evident that there is a continued fuccelflon 
 of ideas in the mind* and that they introduce each 
 other with a certain degree of regularity. Their 
 complexion depends greatly on the different per- 
 ceptions of pleafure and pain which we receive 
 through the medium of fenfe ; and, in return, 
 they have a confiderable influence on the animal 
 ccconomy. 
 
 They are fometimes excited by fenfible objefts, 
 and fometimes by an internal operation of the 
 mind. Of the former fpecies is moft probably the 
 memory of brutes ; and its many fources of plea- 
 fure to them, as well as to ourfelves, are con- 
 fidered in the firft part. The latter is the moft 
 perfect degree of memory, and forms the fubjeft of 
 
 the fecond. 
 
THE FIRST PART. 
 
 vli 
 
 When ideas have any relation whatever, they 
 are attraftive of each other in the mind ; and the 
 perception of any objeft naturally leads to the 
 idea of another which was connefted with it either 
 in time or place, or which can be compared or 
 contrafted with it. Hence arifes our attachment 
 to inanimate obj efts; hence alfo, in fome degree, 
 the love of our country, and the emotion with 
 which we contemplate the celebrated fcenes of 
 antiquity. Hence a pifture direfts our thoughts 
 to the original: and, as cold and darknefs fuggeft 
 forcibly the ideas of heat and light, he, who feels 
 the infirmities of age, dwells moft on whatever 
 reminds him of the vigour and vivacity of his 
 youth. 
 
 B 2 
 
vm 
 
 ANALYSIS OF THE FIRST PART. 
 
 The affociating principle, as here employed, is 
 no lefs conducive to virtue than to happinefs ; 
 and, as fuch, it frequently difcovers itfelf in the 
 moft. tumultuous fcenes of life. It addrefles our 
 finer feelings, and gives exercife to every mild and 
 ■generous propenfity. 
 
 Not confined to man, it extends through all 
 animated nature; and its effe&s are peculiarly 
 ftriking in the domeftic tribes. 
 
THE 
 
 PLEASURES 
 
 O F 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 T WILIGHT’s foft dews deal o’er the village-green. 
 With magic tints to harmonize the fcene. 
 
 Still’d is the hum that thro’ the hamlet broke. 
 
 When round the ruins of their ancient oak 
 The peafants flock’d to hear the minftrel play, 5 
 And games and carols clos’d the bufy day. 
 
10 
 
 the pleasures 
 
 Her wheel at reft, the matron charms no more 
 W ith treafur’d tales of legendary lore. 
 
 All, all are fled ; nor mirth nor muflc flows 
 To chafe the dreams of innocent repofe. jo 
 
 All, all are fled ; yet ftill I linger here! 
 
 What penftve fweets this filent fpot endear ? 
 
 Mark yon old Manfion, frowning thro’ the trees, 
 Whofe hollow turret wooes the whittling breeze. 
 That cafement, arch’d with ivy’s browneft ftiade, 15 
 birft to thefe eyes the light of heav’n convey’d. 
 
 The mouldering gateway ftrews the grafs-growncourt, 
 Once the calm fcene of many a Ample fport; 
 
 When nature pleas’d, for life itfelf was new, 
 
 ■* 
 
 And the heart promis’d what the fancy drew. 
 
 20 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 I I 
 
 See, thro’ the fraftur’d pediment reveal’d. 
 
 Where mofs inlays the rudely-fculptur’d Ihield, 
 
 The martin’s old, hereditary neft. 
 
 Long may the ruin fpare its hallow’d gueft! 
 
 As jars the hinge, what fullen echoes call ! 25 
 
 Oh hafte, unfold the hofpitable hall ! 
 
 That hall, where once, in antiquated Hate, 
 
 The chair of j uftice held the grave debate. 
 
 Now ftain’d with dews, with cobwebs darkly hung, 
 Oft has its roof with peals of rapture rung; 30 
 When round yon ample board, in due degree. 
 
 We fweeten’d every meal with focial glee. 
 
 The heart’s light laughter crown’d the circling jeft; 
 And all was funfhine in each little breaft. 
 
J2 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 ’Twas here we chas’d the flipper by its found; 3 - 
 And turn d the blindfold hero round and round. 
 ’Twas here, at eve, we form’d our fairy ring; 
 
 And Fancy flutter’d on her wildeft wing. 
 
 Giants and genii chain’d the wondering ear; 
 
 And orphan-woes drew Nature’s ready tear. 40 
 Oft with the babes we wander’d in the wood. 
 
 Or view’d the foreft-feats of Robin Hood : 
 
 Oft, fancy-led, at midnight’s fearful hour. 
 
 With ftartling Hep we fcal’d the lonely tower; 
 
 O’er infant innocence to hang and weep, 45 
 
 Murder’d by ruffian hands, when fmiling in its fleep. 
 
 Ye Houfehold Deities! whofe guardian eye 
 Mark’d each pure thought, ere regifter’d on high; 
 Still, ftill ye walk the confecrated ground. 
 
 And breathe the foul of Infpiration round. 50 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 *3 
 
 As o’er the dufky furniture I bend, 
 
 Each chair awakes the feelings of a friend. 
 
 The ftoried arras, fource of fond delight. 
 
 With old achievement charms the wilder’d fight; 
 And ftill, with Heraldry’s rich hues impreft, 5 J 
 On the dim window glows the piftur d creft. 
 
 The fcreen unfolds its many-colour’d chart. 
 
 The clock ftill points its moral to the heart. 
 
 That faithful monitor ’twas heav’n to hear! 
 
 When foft it fpoke a promis’d pleafure near : 60 
 
 And has its fober hand, its Ample chime. 
 
 Forgot to trace the feather’d feet of Time ? 
 
 That maffive beam, with curious carvings wrought. 
 Whence the caged linnet footh’d my penfive thought; 
 Thofe mulkets cas’d with venerable ruft ; 65 
 
 Thole once-lov’d forms, ftill breathing thro’ their dull. 
 
M 
 
 the pleasures 
 
 Still from the frame, in mould gigantic caft. 
 
 Starting to life— all whifper of the part ! 
 
 As thro the garden’s defert paths I rove, 
 
 What fond illulions fwarm in every grove! 
 
 How oft, when purple evening ting’d the weft, 
 
 W’e watch’d the emmet to her grainy neft; 
 
 elcom d the wild-bee home on wearied wing, 
 
 Laden with fweets, the choiceft of the fpring ! 
 
 How oft infcrib’d, with Friendlhip’s votive rhyme, 75 
 The bark now filver’d by the touch of Time; 
 
 Soar’d in the fwing, half pleas’d and half afraid. 
 Thro’ After elms that wav’d their fummer-fhade ; 
 
 Or ftrew’d with crumbs yon root-inwoven feat, 
 
 To lure the redbreaft from his lone retreat ! 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 I? 
 
 Childhood’s lov’d group revifits every fcene. 
 
 The tangled wood-walk, and the tufted green ! 
 Indulgent Memory wakes, and, lo! they live! 
 Cloth’d with far fofter-hues than Light can give. 
 Thou laft, belt friend that Heav’n affigns below, 85 
 To footh and fweeten all the cares we know; 
 
 Whofe glad fuggeftions ftill each vain alarm. 
 
 When nature fades, and life forgets to charm ; 
 
 ’ Thee would the Mufe invoke! — to thee belong 
 The fage’s precept, and the poet’s fong. . 90 
 
 What foften’d views thy magic glafs reveals, 
 
 When o’er the landfcape Time’s meek twilight fteals ! 
 As when in ocean finks the orb of day. 
 
 Long on the wave reflefted luftres play ; 
 
 Thy temper’d gleams of happinefs refign’d 
 Glance on the darken'd mirror of the mind. 
 
 9J 
 
THE PLEASURES 
 
 1 6 
 
 The School’s lone porch, with reverend moflesgray. 
 Juft tells the penlive pilgrim where it lay. 
 
 Mute is the bell that rung at peep of dawn. 
 Quickening my truant-feet acrofs the lawn ; ioo 
 Unheard the fhout that rent the noontide air. 
 
 When the flow dial gave a paufe to care. 
 
 Up fprings, at every ftep, to claim a tear. 
 
 Some little friendfhip form’d and cherifh’d here ! 
 And not the lighteft leaf, but trembling teams i o 5 
 With golden vifions, and romantic dreams ! 
 
 Down by yon hazel copfe, at evening, blaz’d 
 The Gipfy’s faggot — there we ftood and gaz’d; 
 
 Gaz’d on her fun-burnt face with filent awe, 
 
 Her tatter’d mantle, and her hood of ftraw; no 
 Her moving lips, her caldron brimming o’er; 
 
 The drowfy brood that on her back (he bore ; 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 17 
 
 Imps, in the barn with moufing owlet bred, 
 
 From rifled rooft at nightly revel fed ; 
 
 Whofe dark eyes flalh’d thro’ locks of blackeft {hade, 1 15 
 
 When in the breeze the diftant watch-dog bay’d 
 And heroes fled the Sybil’s mutter’d call, 
 
 Whofe elfin prowefs fcal’d the orchard-wall. 
 
 As o’er my palm the filver piece {he drew. 
 
 And trac’d the line of life with fearching view, 1 20 
 How throbb’d my fluttering pulfe with hopes and fears, 
 To learn the colour of my future years ! 
 
 Ah, then, what honeft triumph flulh’d my breaft ! 
 This truth once known — To blefs is to be bleft ! 
 
 We led the bending beggar on his way ; 125 
 
 (Bare were his feet, his treffes filver-gray) 
 
 Sooth’d the keen pangs his aged fpirit felt. 
 
 And on his tale with mute attention dwelt. 
 
THE PLEASURES 
 
 As in his fcrip we dropt our little ftore, 
 
 And wept to think that little was no more, 130 
 He breath d his prayer, (( Long may fuch goodnefs 
 live !” 
 
 ’Twas all he gave, ’twas all he had to give. 
 
 But hark! thro’ thofe old firs, with fallen fwell 
 he church-clock ftrikes ! ye tender fcenes, farewell! 
 It calls me hence, beneath their fhade, to trace 13^ 
 The few fond lines that Time may foon efface. 
 
 On yon gray ftone, that fronts the chancel-door, 
 Worn fmooth by bufy feet now feen no more. 
 
 Each eve we fhot the marble thro’ the ring, 
 hen the heart danc’d, and life was in its fp ring; 140 
 Alas ! unconfcious of the kindred earth. 
 
 That faintly echoed to the voice of mirth. 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 *9 
 
 The glow-worm loves her emerald light to fhed. 
 Where now the fexton reds his hoary head. 
 
 Oft, as he turn’d the greenfward with his fpade, 14$ 
 He le&ur’d every youth that round him play’d; 
 
 And, calmly pointing where his fathers lay. 
 
 Rous’d him to rival each, the hero of his day. 
 
 Hufh, ye fond flutterings, hufh ! while here alone 
 I fearch the records of each mouldering done. 1 50 
 Guides of my life! Indru&ors of my youth! 
 
 Who drd unveil’d the hallow’d form of Truth; 
 Whofe every word enlighten’d and endear’d; 
 
 In age belov’d, in poverty rever’d ; 
 
 In Friendfhip’s filent regider ye live, 155 
 
 Nor alk the vain memorial Art can give. 
 
20 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 But when the fons of peace and pleafure fleep. 
 When only Sorrow wakes, and wakes to weep, 
 What fpells entrance my vifionary mind. 
 
 With fighs fo fweet, with raptures fo refin’d ? 1 60 
 
 Ethereal Power ! whofe fmile, at noon of night. 
 Recalls the far-fled fpirit of delight ; 
 
 Inftils that mufing, melancholy mood. 
 
 Which charms the wife, and elevates the good ; 
 
 Bleft Memory, hail! Oh, grant the grateful Mufe, 1 6$ 
 Her pencil dipt in Nature’s living hues, 
 
 To pafs the clouds that round thy empire roll. 
 
 And trace its airy precin&s in the foul. 
 
 Lull’d in the countlefs chambers of the brain. 
 
 Our thoughts are link’d by many a hidden chain. 1 70 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 21 
 
 Awake but one* and lo, what myriads rife ! 
 
 Each ftamps its image as the other flies! 
 
 Each, as the varied avenues of fenfe 
 Delight or forrow to the foul difpenfe, 
 
 Brightens or fades; yet all, with magic art, 175 
 Controul the latent fibres of the heart. 
 
 As ftudious Prospero’s myiterious fpell 
 Conven’d the fubjedl-fpirits to his cell; 
 
 Each, at thy call, advances or retires. 
 
 As judgment diftates, or the fcene infpires. 180 
 Each thrills the feat of fenfe, that facred fource, 
 Whence the fine nerves direft their mazy courfe, 
 And thro’ the frame invifibly convey 
 The fubtle, quick vibrations as they play. 
 
 C 
 
22 
 
 THE pleasures 
 
 Survey the globe, each ruder realm explore ; 185 
 
 From Reafon’s fainted: ray to Newton foar. 
 
 What different fpheres to human blifs affign’d! 
 What flow gradations in the fcale of mind! 
 
 Yet mark in each thefe myftic wonders wrought ; 
 Oh mark the fleeplefs energies of thought! 190 
 
 The adventurous boy, that afks his little fhare, 
 And hies from home, with many a goflip’s prayer. 
 Turns on the neighbouring hill, once more to fee 
 The. dear abode of peace and privacy ; 
 
 And as he turns, the thatch among the trees, 195 
 The fmoke’s blue wreaths afcending with the breeze, 
 The village-common fpotted white with fheep, 
 
 The churchyard yews round which his fathers fleep : 
 
„ OF MEMORY. 
 
 2 3 
 
 All roufe Refle&ion’s fadly-pleafing train, 
 
 And oft he looks and weeps, and looks again. 200 
 
 So, when the daring fons of Science drew » 
 
 The mild Tupia’s firm yet fond adieu 
 To all his foul belt lov’d, fuch tears he (hed, 
 
 While each foft fcene of fummer-beauty fled : 
 
 Long o’er the wave a wiftful look he caft, 205 
 Long watch’d the ftreaming fignal from the mail ; 
 Till twilight’s dewy tints deceiv’d his eye, 
 
 And fairy forefts fring’d the evening Iky. 
 
 So Scotia’s Queen, as (lowly dawn’d the day, 2 
 Rofe on her couch, and gaz’d her foul away. 210 
 Her eyes had blefs’d the beacon’s glimmering height, 
 That faintly tipt the feathery furge with light ; 
 
 , C . 2 
 
24 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 But now the morn with orient hues pourtray’d 
 Each caftled cliff, and brown monaftic {hade : 
 
 All touch’d the talifman’s refiftlefs fpring, 2 1 j 
 And lo, what bufy tribes were inftant on the wing! 
 
 As kindred objetts kindred thoughts excite, 3 
 Thefe, with magnetic virtue, foon unite. 
 
 And hence this fpot gives back the joys of youth. 
 Warm as the life, and with the mirror’s truth. 220 
 Hence home-felt pleafure prompts the Patriot’s figh; 
 This makes him wifh to live, and dare to die. 
 
 For this Foscari, whofe relentlefs fate 4 
 Venice Ihould blufh to hear the Mufe relate. 
 
 When exile wore his blooming years away, 225 
 To forrow’s long foliloquies a prey. 
 
 When reafon, juftice, vainly urg’d his caufe, 
 l or this he rous'd her fanguinary laws ; 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 25 
 
 Glad to return, tho’ Hope could grant no more, 
 And chains and torture hail'd him to the fhore. 230 
 
 And hence the charm hiftoric fcenes impart : 
 
 Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart. 
 
 Aerial forms, in Tempe’s claffic vale. 
 
 Glance thro’ the gloom, and whifper in the gale; 
 
 In wild Vauclufe with love and Laura dwell, 235 
 
 And watch and weep in Eloisa’s cell. 5 
 
 ’Twas ever thus. As now at Virgil’s tomb, 6 
 
 We blefs the fhade, and hid the verdure bloom ; 
 
 So Tully paus’d, amid the wrecks of Time, 7 
 
 On the rude (tone to trace the truth fublime; 240 
 
 When at his feet, in honour’d dull difclos’d. 
 
 The immortal Sage of Syracufe repos’d. 
 
 And as his youth in fweet delufion hung, 
 
 Where once a Plato taught, a Pindar fung; 
 
 1 
 
z6 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 Who now but meets him mufing, when he roves 245 
 His ruin’d Tufculan’s romantic groves ? 
 
 In Rome's great forum, who but hears him roll 
 His moral thunders o’er the fubjed foul? 
 
 And hence that calm delight the portrait gives : 
 We gaze on every feature till it lives ! 250 
 
 Still the fond lover views the abfent maid; 
 
 And the loft friend ftill lingers in his fhade! 
 
 Say why the penfive widow loves to weep, 8 
 When on her knee (lie rocks her babe to lleep ; 
 Tremblingly ftill. Ihe lifts his veil to trace 
 The father’s features in his infant face. 
 
 The hoary grandfire fmiles the hour away. 
 
 Won by the charm of Innocence at play; 
 
 He bends to catch each artlefs burft of joy, 
 
 Forgets his age, and ads again the boy. 
 
 2 55 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 2 7 
 
 What tho’ the iron fchool of War erafe 
 Each milder virtue, and each fofter grace ; 
 
 What tho’ the fiend’s torpedo-touch arreft 
 Each gentler, finer impulfe of the breaft ; 
 
 Still (hall this aftive principle prefide, 265 
 
 And wake the tear to Pity’s felf denied. 
 
 The intrepid Swifs, that guards a foreign fhore, 
 Condemn’d to climb his mountain-cliffs no more, 
 
 If chance he hears the fong fo fweetly wild 9 
 Which on thofe cliffs his infant hours beguil'd, 270 
 Melts at the long-loft fcenes that round him rife, 
 And finks a martyr to repentant fighs. 
 
 Afk not if courts or camps diffolve the charm : 
 Say why Vespasian lov’d his Sabine iarm;»° 
 
28 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 Why great Navarre, when France and freedom 
 
 Wed '“ 275 
 
 Sought the lone limits of a foreft-lhed. 
 
 When Diocletian’s felf-correfted mind 12 
 The imperial .fafces of a world refign’d. 
 
 Say why we trace the labours of his fpade. 
 
 In calm Salona s philofophic fhade. 280 
 
 Say, when ambitious Charles renounc’d a throne, 1 3 
 1 o mufe with monks unletter’d and unknown, 
 
 W hat from his foul the parting tribute drew ? 
 
 What claim’d the forrows of a laft adieu? 
 
 The If ill retreats that footh'd his tranquil bread, 285 
 Ere grandeur, dazzled, and its cares opprefs’d. 
 
 Undamp’d by time, the generous Inftinft glows 
 Far as Angola s fands, as Zembla’s fnows ; 
 
OF MEMORY* 
 
 Glows in the tiger’s den, the ferpent’s neft, 
 
 On every form of varied life impreft. 290 
 
 The focial tribes its choiceft influence hail : 
 
 And, when the drum beats brilkly in the gale. 
 
 The <var-worn courfer charges at the found. 
 
 And with young vigour wheels the pafture round. 
 
 Oft has the aged tenant of the vale 295 
 
 Lean’d. on his ftaff to lengthen out the tale ; 
 
 Oft have his lips the grateful tribute breath'd, 
 from lire to fon with pious zeal bequeath’d. 
 
 When o’er the blafted heath the day declin’d. 
 
 And on the fcath’d oak warr'a the winter wind; 300 
 When not a diftant taper's twinkling ray 
 Gleam’d o'er the furze to light him on his way; 
 When not a (heep-bell footh'd his liftening ear. 
 
 And the big rain-drops told the tempeft near; 
 
3 ® 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 Then did his horfe the homeward track defcry ,»4 305 
 The track that fhunn’d his fad, inquiring eye; 
 
 And win each wavering purpofe to relent. 
 
 With warmth fo mild, fo gently violent, 
 
 That his charm'd hand the carelefs rein refign'd, 
 And doubts and terrors vanilh’d from his mind. 3 1 o 
 
 Recall the traveller, whofe alter'd form 
 Has borne the buffet of the mountain-ftorm ; 
 
 And who will firft his fond impatience meet ? 
 
 His faithful dog's already at his feet! 
 
 Yes, tho' the porter fpurn him from his door, 315 
 
 Tho’ all, that knew him, know his face no more. 
 
 His faithful dog {hall tell his joy to each. 
 
 With that mute eloquence which paffes fpeech. 
 
 And fee, the mafter but returns to die ! 
 
 Yet who (hall bid the watchful fervant fly? 320 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 31 
 
 The blafls of heav n, the drenching dews of earth* 
 
 ' The wanton infults of unfeeling mirth ; 
 
 T hcfe, when to guard Misfortune's facred grave. 
 Will firm Fidelity exult to brave. 
 
 Led by what chart, tranfports the timid dove 325 
 The wreaths of conqueft, or the vows of love ? 
 Say, thro the clouds what compafs points her flight ? 
 Monarchs have gaz’d, and nations blefs'd the fight. 
 Pile rocks on rocks, bid- woods and mountains rife, 
 Eclipfe her native fhades, her native fkies; — 330 
 
 |Tis vain! thro’ Ether’s pathlefs wilds fhe goes. 
 
 And lights at laft where all her cares repofe. 
 
 | Sweet bird! thy truth fhall Harlem’s walls atteft,'S 
 |nd unborn ages confecrate thy neft. 
 
32 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 When with the filent energy of grief, 335 
 
 With looks that aik’d, yet dar’d not hope relief, 
 Want, with her babes, round generous Valour clung, 
 To wring the flow furrender from his tongue, 
 
 ’Twas thine to animate her cloflng eye ; 
 
 Alas! ’twas thine perchance the firft to die, 340 
 Crufh'd by her meagre hand, when welcom’d | 
 from the Iky. J 
 
 Hark ! the bee winds her fmall but mellow .torn, 1 6 
 Blithe to falute the funny fmile of morn. 
 
 O’er thymy downs flie bends her bufy courfe, 
 
 And many a ftream allures her to its fourct. 345 
 ’Tis noon, 'tis night. That eye fo finely vrought. 
 Beyond the fearch of fenfe, the foar of thought, 
 Now vainly alks the fcenes fhe left behind ; 
 
 Its orb fo full, its vifion fo confin'd! 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 33 
 
 Who guides the patient pilgrim to her cell ? 350 
 
 Who bids her foul with confcious triumph fwell ? 
 With confcious truth retrace the mazy clue 
 Of varied fcents, that charm'd her as fhe flew? 
 Hail, Memory, hail! thy univerfal reign 
 Guards the leaft link of Being’s glorious chain. 355 
 
 THE END OF THE FIRST PART. 
 
THE 
 
 PLEASURES 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Dogli anni c de l’obblio nemica, 
 
 Ddle cofe cuftode, c difpenficra. 
 
 Tasso, 
 
ANALYS IS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 The Memory has hitherto a died only in fubfer- 
 
 vience to the fenfes, and fo far man is not emi- 
 nently diftinguilhed from other animals : but, with 
 refpeft to man, fhe has a higher province; and is 
 often bufily employed, when excited by no external 
 caufe whatever. She preferves, for his ufe, the 
 treafures of art and fcience, hiftory and philofo- 
 D 
 
38 
 
 ANALYSIS OP 
 
 phy. She colours all the profpefls of life : for 
 ‘ we can only anticipate the future, by conclud- 
 ing what is poffible from what is paft.’ On her 
 agency depends every effufion of the Fancy, 
 whofe boldeft effort can only compound or tranf- 
 pofe, augment or diminifh the materials which 
 fhe has collected and retained. 
 
 When the firfl emotions of defpair have fubfided, 
 and forrow has foftened into melancholy, fhe 
 amufes with a retrofpedt of innocent pleafures, 
 and infpires that noble confidence w'hich refults 
 from the confcioufnefs of having acted well. 
 When deep has fufpended the organs of fenfe 
 from their office, fhe not only fupplies the mind 
 with images, but affifts in their combination. 
 
THE SECOND PART. 
 
 39 
 
 And even in madnefs itfelf, when the foul is re- 
 figned over to the tyranny of a diftempered imagi- 
 nation, fhe revives paft perceptions, and awakens 
 that train of thought which was formerly moft fa- 
 miliar. 
 
 Nor are we pleafed only with a review of the 
 brighter paflages of life; events, the moft diftrelf- 
 ing in their immediate confequences, are often 
 cherilhed in remembrance with a degree of enthu- 
 fiafm. 
 
 But the world and its occupations give a mecha- 
 nical impulfe to the paffions, which is not very fa- 
 vourable to the indulgence of this feeling. It is 
 in a calm and well-regulated mind that the Memory 
 
’4-0 ANALYSIS OF THE SECOND PART. 
 
 is moft perfeft; and folitude is her belt fphere of 
 a&ion. With this fentiment is introduced a Tale* 
 illuftrative of her influence in folitude, flcknefs, and 
 for row. And the fubjedt having now been confi- 
 dered, fo far as it relates to man and the animal 
 world, the Poem concludes with a conjedtuie, that 
 fuperior beings are bleft with a nobler exercife of 
 this faculty. 
 
THE 
 
 PLEASURES 
 
 O F 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale. 
 Oft up.the tide of Time I turn my fail. 
 
 To view the fairy-haunts of long-loft hours, 
 
 Bleft with far greener (hades, far frefher flowers. 
 
 Ages and climes remote to Thee impart 
 iWhat .charms in Genius, and refines in Art; 
 
42 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 Thee, in whofe hand the keys of Science dwell* 
 The penfive portrefs of her holy cell ; 
 
 Whofe conftant vigils chafe the chilling damp 
 Oblivion fteals upon her veftal-lamp. io 
 
 The friends of Reafon, and the guides of Youth, 
 Whofe language breath’d the eloquence of Truth; 
 Whofe life, beyond preceptive wifdom, taught 
 The great in conduft, and the pure in thought; 
 Thefe flill exift, by Thee to Fame confign’d, i j 
 Still fpeak and aft, the models of mankind. 
 
 From Thee fweet Hope her airy colouring draws ; 
 And Fancy’s flights are fubjeft to thy laws. 
 
 From Thee that bofom-fpring of rapture flows. 
 Which, only Virtue, tranquil Virtue, knows, 20 
 
r OF MEMORY. ' 
 
 43 
 
 When Joy’s bright fun has Ihed his evening-ray, 
 And Hope’s delufive meteors ceafe to play; 
 
 When clouds on clouds the fmiling profpeft clofe. 
 Still thro’ the gloom thy ftar ferenely glows : 
 
 Like yon fair orb, Ihe gilds the brow of night 25 
 With the mild magic of reflected light. 
 
 The beauteous maid, that bids the world adieu. 
 Oft of that world will fnatch a fond review ; 
 
 Oft at the fhrine negledl her beads, to trace 
 Some focial fcene, fome dear, familiar face, 30 
 Forgot, when firft a father’s ftern controul 
 Chas’d the gay vifions of her opening foul : 
 
 And ere, with iron tongue, the vefper-bell 
 Burfts thro’ the cyprefs-walk, the convent-cell. 
 
 Oft will her warm and wayward heart revive, 35; 
 To love and joy ftill tremblingly alive; 
 
44 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 The whifper’d vow, the chafte carefs prolong. 
 Weave the light dance, and fwell the choral fong; 
 With rapt ear drink the enchanting ferenade. 
 
 And, as it melts along the moonlight-glade, 40 
 |To each foft note return as foft a flgh. 
 
 And blefs the youth that bids her {lumbers fly. 
 
 But not till Time has calm’d the ruffled breafi. 
 Are thefe fond dreams of happinefs confeft. 
 
 Not till the ruffling winds forget to rave, 45 
 Is heav’n’s fweet fmile reflected on the wave. 
 
 From Guinea’s coaft purfue the leflening fail. 
 And catch the founds that fadden every gale. 
 
 Tell, if thou canft, the fum of forrows there; 
 
 Mark the fixt gaze, the wild and frenzied glare, 40 )*■ 
 
 The racks of thought, and freezings' of delpair! J 
 
■Of MEMORY. 
 
 45 
 
 But paufe not then — beyond the weftern wave. 
 
 Go, view the captive barter’d as a Have! 
 
 Grufh’d till his high, heroic fpirit bleeds. 
 
 And from his nervelefs frame indignantly recedes. 5 £ 
 
 Yet here, ev’n here, with pleafures long refign'd, 
 Lo! Memory burfts the twilight of the mind: 
 Her dear delufions footh his finking foul. 
 
 When the rude fcourge prefumes its bafe controul; 
 And o'er Futurity’s blank page diffufe 60 
 
 The full refledion of their vivid hues. 
 
 ’lis but to die, and then, to weep no more. 
 
 Then will he wake on Congo’s diftant fhore; 
 Beneath his plantain’s ancient fhade, renew 
 The fimple tranfports that with freedom flew; 6y 
 Catch the cool breeze that mufky Evening blows. 
 And quaff the palm’s rich nedar as it glows; 
 
4 6 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 The oral tale of elder time rehearfe. 
 
 And chant the rude, traditionary verfe ; 
 
 With thofe, the lov’d companions of his youth, 70 
 When life was luxury, and friendfhip truth. 
 
 , Ah ! why Ihould Virtue dread the frowns of Fate ? 
 Hers what no wealth can win, no power create! 
 
 A little world of clear and cloudlefs day. 
 
 Nor wreck'd by ftorms, nor moulder’d by decay ; 7 £ 
 A world, with Memory’s ceafelefs fun-fhine bled. 
 The home of Happinefs, an honed bread. 
 
 But mod we mark the wonders of her reign. 
 When Sleep has lock’d the fenfes in her chain. 
 When fober Judgment has his throne refign’d, 80 
 She fmiles away the chaos of the mind ; 
 
OF MEMORY. ’ 
 
 47 
 
 And, as warm Fancy’s bright Elyfium glows. 
 
 From Her each image fp rings, each colour flows. 
 She is the facred gueft! the immortal friend! 
 
 Oft feen o’er fleeping Innocence to bend, 8$ 
 
 In that dead hour of night to Silence giv’n, 
 Whifpering feraphic viiions of her heav’n. 
 
 . When the blithe fon of Savoy, roving round 
 With humble wares and pipe of merry found. 
 
 From his green vale and Ihelter’d cabin hies, 90 
 And feales the Alps to vifit foreign fkies; 
 
 Tho’ far below the forked lightnings play. 
 
 And at his feet the thunder dies away. 
 
 Oft, in the faddle rudely rock’d to fleep, 
 
 While his mule browfes on the dizzy fleep, 95 
 With Memory’s aid, he fits at home, and fees 
 His children fport beneath their native trees. 
 
TRE PLEASURES 
 
 And bends, to hear their cherub-voices call. 
 
 O'er the loud fury of the torrent’s fall. 
 
 But can her fmile with gloomy Madnefs dwell? ioo 
 Say, can fhe chafe the horrors of his cell ? 
 
 Each fiery flight on Frenzy’s wing reft rain* 
 
 And mould the coinage of the fever’d brain ? 
 
 Pafs but that grate, which fcarce a gleam fupplies. 
 There in the duft the wreck of Genius lies! 105 
 He, whofe arrefting hand fublimely wrought 
 Each bold conception in the fphere of thought; 
 Who from the quarried mafs, like Phidias, drew 
 Forms ever fair, creations ever new ! 
 
 But, as he fondly fnatch’d the wreath of Fame, 1 10 
 The fpeftre Poverty unnerv’d his frame. 
 
 Cold was her grafp, a withering fcowl fhe wore; 
 And Hope’s foft energies were felt no more. 
 
I OF MEMORY. ■ 
 
 49 
 
 Yet ftill how fweet the Toothings of his art! *7 
 from the rude ftone what bright ideas ftart! 115 
 Ev’n now he claims the amaranthine wreath. 
 
 With feenes that glow, with images that breathe! 
 And t whence thefe feenes, thefe images, declare. 
 Whence but from Her who triumphs o’er defpair ? 
 
 Awake, arife ! with grateful fervour fraught, 1 20 
 Go, fpring the mine of elevated thought. 
 
 He w,ho, thro’ Nature’s various walk, furveys 
 The good and fair her faultlefs line pourtrays; 
 Whofe mind, prophan’d by no unhallow’d gueft, 
 (Culls from the crowd the pureft and the belt ; 125 
 
 May range, at will, bright Fancy’s golden clime, 
 
 Or, mufing, mount where Science fits fublime, /■ 
 Or wake the fpirit of departed Time. J 
 
THE PLEASURES 
 
 5 ° 
 
 Who adls thus wifely, mark the moral mufe, 
 
 A blooming Eden in his life reviews! 13® 
 
 So richly cultur’d every native grace. 
 
 Its fcanty limits he forgets to trace : 
 
 But the fond fool, when evening fhades the Iky, 
 Turns but to ftart, and gazes but to figh ! 
 
 The weary wafte, that lengthen’d as he ran, 135 
 Fades to a blank, and dwindles to a fpan ! 
 
 Ah! who can tell the triumphs of the mind. 
 
 By truth illumin’d, and by tafte refin’d ? 
 
 When Age has quench’d the eye and clos’d the ear, 
 Still nerv’d for attion in her native fphere, 146 
 Oft will (he rife — with fearching glance purfue 
 Some long-lov’d image vanifh’d from her view ; 
 Dart thro’ the deep recedes of the paft. 
 
 O’er dufky forms in chains of (lumber call ; 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 5 1 
 
 With giant-grafp fling back the folds of night, 1 45 
 And fnatch the faithlefs fugitive to light. 
 
 So thro’ the grove the impatient mother flies, 
 Each funlefs glade, each fecret pathway tries; 
 
 Till the light leaves the truant-boy difclofe. 
 
 Long on the wood-mofs ftretch'd in fweet repofe. 1 50 
 
 Nor yet to pleafing objefts are confin’d 
 The filent feafts of the refle&ive mind. 
 
 Danger and death a dread delight infpire ; 
 
 And the bald veteran glows with wonted fire. 
 When, richly bronz’d by many a fummer-fun, 155 
 He counts his fears, and tells what deeds were done. 
 
 Go, with old Thames, view Chelfea’s glorious pile ; 
 And alk the flutter'd hero, whence his fmile? 
 
5 2 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 Go, view the fplendid domes of Greenwich, go j 
 And own what raptures from Reflection flow. 160 
 
 Hail, nobleft ftruCtures imag’d in the wave ! ' 
 
 A nation’s grateful tribute to the brave. 
 
 Hail, bleft retreats from war and fhipwreck. hail! 
 That oft arreft the wondering ftranger’s fail. 
 
 Long have ye heard the narratives of age, 1 65 
 The battle’s havoc, and the tempeft’s rage; 
 
 Long have ye known Reflexion’s genial ray 
 Gild the calm clofe of Valour's various day. 
 
 Time’s fombrons touches foon correCt the piece, 
 Mellow each tint, and bid each difcord ceaf; : 1 70 
 A fofter tone of light pervades the whole, 
 
 And breathes a penlive languor o’er the foul. 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 53 
 
 Haft thou thro’ Eden’s wild-wood vales purfued 18 
 Each mountain- fcene, magnificently rude ; 
 
 To mark the Tweet fimplieity of life, 175 
 
 Far from the din of Folly’s idle ftrife : 
 
 Nor, with Attention’s lifted eye, rever’d 
 That modeft ftone which pious Pembroke rear’d; 
 Which ftill records, beyond the pencil’s power. 
 
 The lilent forrows of a parting hour ; 180 
 
 Still to the mufing pilgrim points the place. 
 
 Her fainted fpirit moft delights to trace ? 
 
 Thus, with the manly glow of honeft pride, 1 9 
 O’er his dead fon old Ormond nobly figh’d. 
 
 Thus, thro’ the gloom of She nstone’s fairygrove, 18 
 Maria’s urn ftill breathes the voice of love. 
 
 E 
 
54 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 As the ftern grandeur of a Gothic tower 
 Awes not fo deeply in its morning-hour. 
 
 As when the (hades of Time ferenely fall 
 On every broken arch and ivied wall; 190 
 
 The tender images we love to trace. 
 
 Steal from each year * a melancholy grace 1 ’ 
 
 And as the fparks of focial love expand, 
 
 As the heart opens in a foreign land ; 
 
 And with a brother’s warmth, a brother’s fmilt, 195 
 The ftranger greets each native of his ifle ; 
 
 So fcenes of life, when prefent and confeft. 
 
 Stamp but their bolder features on the bread ; 
 
 Yet not an image, when remotely view’d. 
 
 However trivial, and however rude, 200 
 
 But wins the heart, and wakes the focial figh, 
 
 With every claim of clofe affinity! 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 55 
 
 But thefe pure joys the world can never know ; 
 
 In gentler climes their filver currents flow. 
 
 . Oft at the filent, lhadowy clofe of day, 205 
 
 When the hufh’d grove has fung its parting lay; 
 j When penfive Twilight, in her dufky car, 
 i Slowly afcends to meet the evening-ftar; 
 
 : Above, below, aerial murmurs fwell, 
 
 I From hanging wood, brown heath, and bufliy dell ! 210 
 A thoufand namelefs rills, that fhun the light. 
 
 Stealing foft mufic on the ear of night. 
 
 So oft the finer movements of the foul, 
 
 That fhun the fphere of Pleafure’s gay controul. 
 
 In the ftill fhades of calm Seclufion rife, 215 
 
 And breathe their fweet, feraphic harmonies! 
 
 E 2 
 
5 6 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 Once, and domeftic annals tell the time, 
 
 (Preferv’d in Cumbria’s rude, romantic clime) 
 
 When Nature fmil’d, and o’er the landfcape threw 
 Her richeft fragrance, and her brighteft hue, 220 
 A blithe and blooming Forefter explor’d 
 Thofe nobler fcenes Salvator’s foul ador’d; 
 
 The rocky pafs half hung with fhaggy wood. 
 
 And the cleft oak flung boldly o’er the flood. 
 
 High on exulting wing the heath-cock rofe, 20 225 
 And blew his fhrill blaft o'er perennial fnows ; 
 
 When the rapt youth, recoiling from the roar, 
 
 Gaz’d on the tumbling tide of dread Lodoar ; 
 
 And thro’ the rifted cliffs, that fcal’d the fky, 
 Derwent’s clear mirror charm’d his dazzled eye. 2 1 230 
 Each ofier ifle, inverted on the wave, 
 
 Thro’ morn’s gray mift its melting colours gave; 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 n 
 
 And, o’-er the cygnet’s haunt, the mantling grove 
 Its emerald arch with wild luxuriance wove. 
 
 Light as the breeze that brulh’d the orient dew, 235 
 From rock to rock the young adventurer flew ; 
 
 And day’s laft funfhine flept along the fhore. 
 
 When lo, a path the fmile of welcome wore. 
 Imbowering fhrubs with verdure veil’d the Iky, 
 
 And on the mulk-rofe fhed a deeper dye; 240 
 Save when a mild and momentary gleam 
 Glanc’d from the white foam of fome Ihelter’d ftream. 
 
 O’er the ftill lake the bell of evening toll’d, 
 
 And on the moor the fhepherd penn’d his fold ; 
 
 And on the green hill’s fide the meteor play’d; 245 
 When, hark ! a voice fung fweetly thro’ the fftade. 
 
THE PLEASURES 
 
 It ceas’d — yet {till in Florio's fancy fung, 
 
 Still on each note his captive fpirit hung ; 
 
 Till o'er the mead a cool, fequefter’d grot 
 From its rich roof a fparry luftre fliot. 250 
 
 A cryftal water crofs’d the pebbled floor. 
 
 And on the front thefe Ample lines it bore : 
 
 Hence away, nor dare intrude ! 
 
 In this fecret, fhadowy cell 
 
 Muflng Memory loves to dwell, 255 
 
 With her After Solitude. 
 
 Far from the bufy world fhe flies, 
 
 To tafte that peace the world denies. 
 
 Entranc’d fhe fits; from youth to age, 
 Reviewing Life’s eventful page; 260 
 
 And noting, ere they fade away, 
 
 The little lines of yefterday. 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 59 
 
 Florio had gain’d a rude and rocky feat, 
 
 When lo, the Genius of this ftill retreat ! 
 
 Fair was her form — but who can hope to trace 265 
 The penfive foftnefs of her angel-face ? 
 
 Can Virgil’s verfe, can Raphael’s touch impart 
 Thofe liner features of the feeling heart, 
 
 Thofe tenderer tints that Ihun the carelefs eye, 
 
 And in the world’s contagious circle die ? 270 
 
 She left the cave, nor mark’d the ftranger there; 
 Her paftoral beauty, and her artlefs air. 
 
 Had breath’d a foft enchantment o’er his foul ! 
 
 In every nerve he felt her bleft controul ! 
 
 What pure and white-wing’d agents of the Iky, 275 
 Who rule the fprings of facred fympathy. 
 
6o 
 
 TKE PLEASURES 
 
 Inform congenial fpirits when they meet ? 
 
 Sweet is their office, as their nature fweet! 
 
 Florio, with fearful joy, purfued the maid. 
 Till thro’ a vifta’s moonlight-checquer’d lhade, 280 
 Where the bat circled, and the rooks repos’d, 
 (Their wars fufpended, and their counfels clos’d) 
 An antique manfion burft in awful date, 
 
 A rich vine cluttering round its Gothic gate. 
 
 Nor paus’d he here. The matter of the fcene 285 
 Mark’d his light ftep imprint the dewy green; 
 
 And, flow-advancing, hail’d him as his gueft. 
 
 Won by the honeft warmth his looks exprefs’d. 
 
 He wore the ruftic manners of a ’Squire; 
 
 Age had not quench’d one fpark of manly fire ; 290 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 6 1 
 
 But giant Gout had bound him in her chain. 
 
 And his heart panted for the chafe in vain. 
 
 Yet here Remembrance, fweetly-foothing power! 
 Wing’d with delight Confinement’s lingering hour. 
 The fox’s brulh ftill emulous to wear, 295 
 
 Hefcour’d the county in his elbow-chair; 
 
 And, with view-halloo, rous’d the dreaming hound. 
 That rung, by ftarts, his deep-ton’d mufic round. 
 
 Long by the paddock’s humble pale confin’d, 
 
 His aged hunters cours'd the viewlefs wind : 300 
 
 And each, with glowing energy pourtray’d. 
 
 The far-fam’d triumphs of the field difplay’d ; 
 Ufurp’d the canvas of the crowded hall, 
 
 And chas’d a line of heroes from the wall. 
 
6z 
 
 THE FLEA3URE5 
 
 There flept the horn each jocund echo knew, 305 
 And many a fmile and many a ftory drew ! 
 
 High o’er the hearth his foreft-trophies hung, 
 
 And their fantaftic branches wildly flung. 
 
 How would he dwell on each vaft antler there ! 
 
 This dafh’d the wave, that fann'd the mountain-air. 3 1 o 
 Each, as it frown’d, unwritten records bore. 
 
 Of gallant feats and feftivals of yore. 
 
 But why the tale prolong ? — His only child, 
 
 His darling Juli a on the ftranger fmil’d. 
 
 Her little arts a fretful fire to pleafe, 315 
 
 Her gentle gaiety, and native eafe. 
 
 Had won his foul — but ah ! few days had pafs'd. 
 
 Ere his fond viflons prov’d too fweet to laft. 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 63 
 
 When evening ting'd the lake’s ethereal blue, 
 And her deep (hades irregularly threw ; 320 
 
 Their drifting fail dropt gently from the cove, 
 Down by St. Herbert’s confecrated grove; 22 
 Whence erd-the chanted hymn, the taper'd rite. 
 Amus’d the fifher's folitary night ; 
 
 And ftill the mitred window, richly wreath’d, 325 
 A facred calm thro’ the brown foliage breath’d. 
 
 The wild deer, darting thro’ the filent glade. 
 With fearful gaze, their various courfe furvey’d. 
 High hung in air the hoary goat reclin'd. 
 
 His dreaming beard the fport of every wind ; 330 
 
 And, as the coot her jet-wing lov’d to lave, 
 
 Rock'd on the bofom of the fleeplefs wave ; 
 
THE PLEASURES 
 
 64 
 
 The eagle rufh’d from Skiddaw’s purple creft, 
 
 A cloud ftill brooding o’er her giant-neft. 
 
 And now the moon had dimm’d, with dewy ray, 335 
 The few, fine flulhes of departing day ; 
 
 O’er the wide water’s deep ferene fhe hung, 
 
 And her broad lights on every mountain flung ; 
 
 When lo ! a fudden blaft the veflel blew, 23 
 And to the furge confign’d its little crew. 340 
 All, all efcap’d — but ere the lover bore 
 His faint and faded Julia to the fhore, 
 
 Her fenfe had fled!' — Exhaufted by the ftorm. 
 
 A fatal trance hung o’er her pallid form ; 
 
 Her clofing eye a trembling luftre fir’d ; 343 
 
 ’Twas life’s laft fpark — it flutter’d and expir’d ! 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 *5 
 
 The father ftrew’d his white hairs in the wind. 
 Call’d on his child — nor linger’d long behind : 
 
 And Florio liv’d to fee the willow wave. 
 
 With many an evening- whifper, o’er their grave. 350 
 Yes, Florio liv’d — and, ftill of each pofleft, 
 
 The father cherifh’d, and the maid carefs’d ! 
 
 For ever would the fond enthufiaft rove. 
 
 With Julia’s fpirit thro’ the lhadowy grove j 
 Gaze with delight on every fcene Ihe plann’d, 355 
 Kifs every flowret planted by her hand. 
 
 Ah ! ftill he trac’d her fteps along the glade, 
 
 When hazy hues and glimmering lights betray’d 
 Half-viewlefs forms ; ftill liften’d as the breeze 
 Heav’d its deep fobs among the aged trees ; 360 
 
66 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 And at each paufe her melting accents caught, * 
 
 In fweet delirium of romantic thought ! 
 
 Dear was the grot that fhunn'd the blaze of day ; 
 .She gave its fpars to fhoot a trembling ray. 
 
 The fpring, that bubbled from it's inmoft cell, 365 
 Murmur'd of Julia’s virtues as it fell; 
 
 And o'er the dripping mofs, the fretted done. 
 
 In Florio's ear breath’d language not its own. 
 
 Her charm around the enchantrefs Memory threw, 
 A charm that fooths the mind, and fweetens too! 370 
 
 But is Her magic only felt below ? 
 
 Say, thro’ what brighter realms Ihe bids it flow; 
 
 To what pure beings, in a nobler fphere, 24 
 She yields delight but faintly imag'd here : 
 
- OP MEMORY. 
 
 6? 
 
 All that till now their rapt refearches knew, 37 j 
 Not call'd in flow fuccefiion to review ; 
 
 But, as a landfcape meets the eye of day, 
 
 At once prefented to their glad furvey ! 
 
 Each fcene of blifs reveal’d, fince chaos fled, 
 
 And dawning light its dazzling glories fpread ; 38a 
 Each chain of wonders that fublimely glow’d. 
 
 Since firft Creation's choral anthem flow’d ; 
 
 Each ready flight, at Mercy’s fmile divine, 
 
 To diftant worlds that undifcover’d fhine ; 
 
 Full on her tablet flings its living rays, 385 
 
 And all, combin’d, with bleft effulgence blaze. 
 
 There thy bright train, immortal Friendfhip, foar; 
 No more to part, to mingle tears no more ! 
 
68 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 And, as the foftening hand of Time endears 
 The joys and forrows of our infant-years, 390 
 So there the foul, releas’d from human ftrife. 
 
 Smiles at the little cares and ills of life ; 
 
 Its lights and lhades, its funfhine and its fhowers ; 
 As at a dream that charm’d her vacant hours ! 
 
 Oft may the fpirits of the dead defcend, 395 
 To watch the filent {lumbers of a friend ; 
 
 To hover round his evening- walk unfeen. 
 
 And hold fweet converfe on the duiky green; 
 
 To hail the fpot where firft their friendlhip grew. 
 And heav’n and nature open’d to their view ! 400 
 
 Oft, when he trims his cheerful hearth, and fees 
 A fmiling circle emulous to pleafe ; 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 6-9 
 
 There may thefe gentle guefts delight to dwell. 
 
 And blefs the fcene they lov’d in life fo well! 
 
 Oh thou! with whom my heart was wont to 
 fhare 40^ 
 
 From Reafon’s dawn each pleafure and each care; 
 With whom, alas! I fondly hop’d to know 
 The humble walks of happinefs below; 
 
 If thy bleft nature now unites above 
 
 An angel’s pity with a brother’s love, 410 
 
 Still o’er my life preferve thy mild controul, 
 
 Correft my views, and elevate my foul ; 
 
 Grant me thy peace and purity of mind. 
 
 Devout yet cheerful, aftive yet refign’d ; 
 
 Grant me, like thee, w hofe heart knew no difguife, 415 
 Whofe blamelefs wifhes never aim’d to rife. 
 
 F 
 
7 o 
 
 THE PLEASURES 
 
 To meet the changes Time and Chance prefent. 
 With modeft dignity and calm content. 
 
 When thy laft breath, ere Nature funk to reft, 
 
 Thy meek fubmilfion to thy God exprefs’d; 420 
 When thy laft look, ere thought and feeling fled, 
 
 A mingled gleam of hope and triumph Ihed; 
 
 What to thy foul its glad aflurance gave, 
 
 Its hope in death, its triumph o’er the grave'? 
 
 The fweet Remembrance of unblemilh’d youth, 425 
 The infpiring voice of Innocence and Truth! 
 
 Hail, Memory, hail! in thy exhauftlefs mine 
 From age to age unnumber’d treafures ftiine ! 
 Thought and her lhadowy brood thy call obey. 
 
 And Place and Time are fubjeft to thy fway ! 430 
 
 Thy pleafures moft we feel, when moft alone; 
 
 The only pleafures we can call our own. 
 
OF MEMORY. 
 
 7 * 
 
 Lighter than air, Hope’s fummer-vifions die. 
 
 If but a fleeting cloud obfcure the fky ; 
 
 If but a beam of fober Reafon play, 43 5 
 
 Lo, Fancy’s fairy froft- work melts away! 
 
 But can the wiles of Art, the grafp of Power, 
 Snatch the rich relics of a well-fpent hour ? 
 
 Thefe, when the trembling fpirit wings her flight. 
 Pour round her path a ftream of living light ; 440 
 
 And gild thofe pure and perfeft realms of reft, 
 Where Virtue triumphs, and her fons are bleft ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
 F 2 
 

 
 
NOTES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 Note i. Verfe 201. 
 
 So, njohen the daring Jons of fcience , &C. 
 
 H E wept ; but the effort that he made to conceal 
 his tears, concurred, with them, to do him ho- 
 nour: he went to the maft-head, waving to the 
 canoes as long as they continued in fight. 
 
 Hawkesworth’s Voyages, ii. 181. 
 Another very affetting inftance of local attach- 
 ment is related of his fellow-countryman Potaveri, 
 who came to Europe with M. de Bougainville. 
 See Les Jardins, par M. l’Abbe de Lille, chant ii. 
 
74 
 
 NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 Note 2. Verfe 209. 
 
 So Scotia s Queen, &c. 
 
 Elle fe leve fur fon lift, & fe met a contempler 
 la France encor, tant qu’elle peut. 
 
 Brantome, tom. ii. p. 119. 
 
 Note 3. Verfe 217. 
 
 As kindred objeds kindred thoughts excite — 
 
 To an accidental affociation may be aferibed 
 fome of thenobleft efforts of human genius. The 
 Hiftorian of the Decline and Fall of the Roman 
 Empire firfl conceived his defign among the ruins 
 of the Capitol; and to the tones of a Welfh harp 
 are we indebted for the Bard of Gray. Gib- 
 bon’s Hift. xii. 432. Memoirs of Gray, feft. iv. 
 let. 25. 
 
notes on the FIRST FART. 
 
 75 
 
 ‘ • • Note 4. Verfe 223. 
 
 For this Foscari, &C. 
 
 This young man was fufpefted of murder, and 
 at Venice fufpicion is good evidence. Neither the 
 intereft- of the Doge, his father, nor the intrepidity 
 of confcious innocence, which he exhibited in the 
 dungeon and on the rack, could procure his ac- 
 quittal. He was banilhed to the ifland of Candia 
 for life. 
 
 But here his refolution failed him. At fuch a 
 diftance from home he could not live; and as it 
 was a criminal offence to folicit the interceffion of 
 any foreign prince, in a fit of defpair he addreffed 
 a letter to the Duke of Milan, and intruded it to 
 a wretch whofe perfidy, he knew, would occafion 
 
76 
 
 NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 his being remanded a prifoner to Venice. See 
 Dr. Moore’s View of Society in Italy, vol. i. 
 let. 14. 
 
 Note 5. Verfe 236. 
 
 And watch and weep in E L o 1 s A ’/ cell. 
 
 The Paraclete, founded by Abelard, in Champagne. 
 
 Note 6. Verfe 237. 
 
 ' Twas ever t hus . As now at Virgil’.? tomb— 
 Vows and pilgrimages are not peculiar to the re- 
 ligious enthufiaft. Silius Italicus performed annual 
 ceremonies on the mountain of Polilippo ; and it 
 was there that Boccaccio, quaji da un di-vino ejlra 
 infptrato , refolved to dedicate his life to the mufes. 
 
NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 77 
 
 Note 7. Verfe 239. 
 
 So Tu LL Y paus'd amid the wrecks of 'Time. 
 When Cicero was quaeftor in Sicily, he difcover- 
 ed the tomb of Archimedes by its mathematical 
 infcription. Tufc. Quaeft. 5. 3. 
 
 Note 8. Verfe 253. 
 
 Say *why the penfive widow loves to weep. 
 
 The influence of the affociating principle is finely 
 exemplified in the faithful Penelope, when lhe fheds 
 tears over the bow of Ulyffes. Od. xxi. 55. 
 
 Note 9. Verfe 269. 
 
 If chance he hears the fong fo fweetly wild— 
 
 The celebrated Ranz des Vaches ; cet air fi cheri 
 
7 « 
 
 .NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 des Suifles qu’il fut defendu fous peine de mort de 
 le jouer dans leurs troupes, parce qu’il faifoit fondre 
 en larmes, deferter ou mourir ceux qui l’entendoi- 
 ent, tant il excitoit en eux l’ardent defir de revoir 
 leur pays. Rousseau, Diclionnaire de Mufique. 
 
 Note io. Verfe 274. 
 
 Say why Vespasian lov'd his Sabine farm. 
 
 This emperor, according to Suetonius, con- 
 ftantly pafTed the fummer in a fmall villa near 
 Reate, where he was born, and to which he would 
 never add any embellifhment; ne quid fcilicet oculo - 
 rum confuetudini defieriret. 
 
 Suet, in Vit. Vefp. cap. ii. 
 
 A fimilar inftance occurs in the life of the vene- 
 rable Pertinax, as related by J. Capitolinus. Pof- 
 
NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 79 
 
 teaquam in Liguriam venit, multis agris coemptis, 
 tabernam paternam, ?nanente forma priore , infinitis 
 aedificiis circundedit. Hift. Auguft. 54. 
 
 An attachment of this nature is generally the 
 charafteriftic of a benevolent mind; and a long ac- 
 quaintance with the world cannot always extin- 
 guilh it. 
 
 To a friend, fays John Duke of Buckingham, I 
 will expofe my weaknefs : I am oftener miffing a 
 pretty gallery in the old houfe I pulled down, 
 than pleafed with a faloon which I built in its 
 Head, though a thoufand times better in all re- 
 fpefts. See his Letter to the D. of Sh. 
 
 This is the language of the heart; and will re- 
 mind the reader of that good-humoured remark in 
 one of Pope’s letters — I fhould hardly care to have 
 
Bo 
 
 NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 an old poll pulled up, that I remembered ever 
 fince I was a child. Pope’s Works, viii. 151. 
 
 The elegant author of Telemachus has illuftrated 
 this fubjeft, with equal fancy and feeling, in the 
 ftory of Alibee, Perfan. See Recueil de Fables, 
 compofees pour l’Education d’un Prince. 
 
 Note ir. Verfe 275. 
 
 Why great Navarre, &c. 
 
 That amiable and accomplifhed monarch, Henry 
 the Fourth of France, made an excurfion from his 
 camp, during the long fiege of Laon, to dine at a 
 houfe in the foreft of Folambray; where he had 
 often been regaled, when a boy, with fruit, 
 milk, and new cheefe; and in revifiting which he 
 promifed himfelf great pleafure. 
 
 Memoires de Sully, tom. ii. p. 381. 
 
.NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 8l 
 
 Note 12. Verfe 277. 
 
 When Diocletian’s Jclf-corrcBed mind — 
 Diofcletian retired into his native province, and 
 there amufed himfelf with building, planting, and 
 gardening. His anfwer to Maximian is defervedly 
 celebrated. He was folicited by that reftlefs old 
 man to re-affume the reins of government, and the 
 Imperial purple. He rejetted the temptation with 
 a fmile of pity, calmly obferving, that if he 
 could Ihew Maximian the cabbages which he had 
 planted with his own hands at Salona, he Ihould 
 no longer be urged to relinquifh the enjoyment of 
 happinefs for the purfuit of power. 
 
 Gibbon, ii. 175". 
 
NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 $2 
 
 Note 13. Verfe 281. 
 
 Say, when ambitious Charles renounc'd a throne — • 
 When the emperor Charles V. had executed his 
 memorable refolution, and had fet out for the mo- 
 naftery of St. Juftus, he Hopped a few days at 
 Ghent, fays his hiftorian, to indulge that tender 
 and pleafant melancholy, which arifes in the 
 mind of every man in the decline of life, on vir 
 •fiting the place of his nativity, and viewing the 
 •fcenes and objefts familiar to him in his early 
 youth. Robertson’s Hift. iv. 256. 
 
 Note 14. Verfe 305. 
 
 Then did his horfe the homeward track de/cry. 
 The memory of the horfe forms the ground- 
 
NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 83 
 
 work of a pleafing little romance of the twelfth 
 •century, entitled “ The Gray Palfrey.’’ See the 
 Tales of the Trouveurs, as colle&ed by M. Le 
 Grand. 
 
 Ariofto likewife introduces it in a paffage full of 
 truth and nature. When Bayardo meets Angelica 
 in the foreft, 
 
 Va manfueto a la Donzella, 
 
 Ch' in Albracca il fervia gia di fua mano. 
 
 Orlando Furioso, canto i. 75. 
 
 Note 15. Verfe 333. 
 
 Sweet bird! thy truth Jhall Harlem’s walls attejl. 
 
 During the fiege of Harlem, when that city was 
 reduced to the laft extremity, and on the point of 
 
8 4 
 
 NOTES ON THE FIRST PART. 
 
 opening its gates to a bafe and barbarous enemy, a 
 defign was formed to relieve it; and the intelli- 
 gence was conveyed to the citizens by a letter which 
 was tied under the wing of a pigeon. 
 
 Thu an us, lib.lv. c. 5. 
 
 The fame melfenger was employed at the fiege 
 of Mutina, as we are informed by the elder Pliny. 
 
 Hift. Nat. x. 37. 
 
 Note 16. Verfe 342. 
 
 Hark! the bee , &c. 
 
 This little animal, from the extreme convexity 
 of her eye, cannot fee many inches before her. 
 
NOTES 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 Note 17. Verfe 114. 
 
 Yet /till how fweet the foothings of his art! 
 
 T HE aftronomer chalking his figures on the 
 wall, in Hogarth’s view of Bedlam, is an admira- 
 ble exemplification of this idea. 
 
 See the Rake’s Progress, plate 8. 
 
 Note 18. Verfe 173. 
 
 Haft thou thro ' Eden's wild-wood <vales purfued. See . 
 
 On the road-fide, between Penrith and Appelby, 
 (lands a fmall pillar with this infeription : 
 
 G 
 
86 
 
 NOTES ON THE SECOND PART. 
 
 “ This pillar was ere&ed in the year 1656, by 
 Ann Countefs Dowager of Pembroke, &c. for a 
 fiiemorial of her laft parting, in this place, with 
 her good and pious mother, Margaret, Countefs 
 Dowager of Cumberland, on the 2d of April, 
 x 6 1 6 : in memory whereof fhe hath left an annuity 
 of 4I. to be diftributed to the poor of the parilh 
 of Brougham, every 2d day of April for ever, up- 
 on the ftone-table placed hard by. Laus Deo!” 
 The Eden is the principal river of Cumberland, 
 and has its fource in the wildeft part of Weftmore- 
 land. 
 
 Note 19. Verfe 183. 
 
 Thus , with the manly glow of honefi pride , 
 
 O’er his dead Jon old Ormond nobly figh’d, &c. 
 
NOTES ON THE SECOND PART. 
 
 78 
 
 Ormond bore the lofs with patience and dignity : 
 though he ever retained a pleafing, however melan- 
 choly, fenfe of the fignal merit of Offory. “ I 
 would not exchange my dead fon,” faid he, <( for 
 any living fon in Chriftendom.” Hume, vi. 340. 
 
 The fame fentiment is infcribed on Mifs Dol- 
 man’s urn at the Leafowes. 
 
 Heu, quanto minus eft cum reliquis verfari, 
 quam tui meminiffe ! 
 
 Note 20. Verfe 225. 
 
 High on exulting nving the heath-cock rofe. 
 
 This bird, according to Mr. Pennant, is remark- 
 able for his exultation during the fpring; when he 
 calls the hen to his haunts with a loud and fhrill 
 
88 
 
 NOTES ON THE SECOND TART. 
 
 voice, and is fo inattentive to his fafety as to be 
 eafily fhot. Brit. Zoology, 2 66 . 
 
 Note 21. Verfe 230. 
 
 Derwent's clear mirror . 
 
 The Lake of Kefwick in Cumberland. 
 
 Note 22. Verfe 322. 
 
 Down by St. Herbert’s confecraled grove. 
 
 A fmall wooded ifland once dignified with 1 reli- 
 gious houfe. . . ' • 
 
 Note 23. Verfe 339. 
 
 • When lo ! a fudden blajl the <vejjel blew. 
 
 In a lake, furrounded with mountains, the agi- 
 tations are often violent and momentary. The 
 
NOTES on the second part. 
 
 89 
 
 winds blow in gufts and eddies ; and the water no 
 fooner fwells, than it fubfides. 
 
 See Bourn’s Hift. of Weftmoreland. 
 
 Note 24. Verfe 373. 
 
 To what pure beings , in a nobler fphere , 
 
 She yields delight but faintly imag'd here. 
 
 The feveral degrees of angels may probably 
 have larger views, and fome of them be endowed 
 with capacities able to retain together, and con- 
 llantly fet before them, as in one pi&ure, all their 
 paft knowledge at once. Locke on Human Un- 
 
 derftanding, book ii. chap. x. 9. 
 
 or 
 
O D 
 
 E 
 
 T O 
 
 / 
 
 SUPERSTITION. 
 
 I. r. 
 
 H ENCE, to the realms of Night, dire Demon, 
 hence ! 
 
 Thy chain of adamant can bind 
 That little world, the human mind. 
 
 And link its nobleft powers to impotence. 
 
 Wake the lion’s loudeft roar. 
 
 Clot his lhaggy mane with gore, 
 
94 
 
 ODE TO SUPERSTITION'. 
 
 With flalhing fury bid his eye-balls (hine ; 
 
 Meek is his favage, fullen foul to thine! 
 
 Thy touch, thy deadening touch, has Heel’d the 
 breaft, i 
 
 Where, thro’ her rainbow-fhower, foft Pity fmil’d ; 
 Has clos’d the heart each godlike virtue bleft. 
 
 To all the filent pleadings of his child. 
 
 At thy command he plants the dagger deep. 
 
 At thy command exults, tho’ Nature bids him weep! 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 When, with a frown that froze the peopled earth, s 
 Thou dartedft thy huge head from high. 
 Night wav’d her banners o’er the Iky, 
 
 And, brooding, gave her fhapelefs Ihadows birth. 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 95 
 
 Rocking on the billowy air, 
 
 Ha ! what withering phantoms glare ! 
 
 As blows the blaft with many a fudden fwell. 
 
 At each dead paufe, what Ihrill-ton’d voices yell ! 
 The fheeted fpe&re, rifing from the tomb. 
 
 Points at the murderer’s ftab, and Ihuddersby; 
 In every grove is felt a heavier gloom. 
 
 That veils its genius from the vulgar eye ; 
 
 The fpirit of the water rides the ftorm, 
 
 And, thro’ its mift, reveals the terrors of his form. 
 
 I. 3- 
 
 O’er folid feas, where Winter reigns, 
 
 And holds each mountain-wave in chains. 
 
 The fur-clad favage, ere he guides his deer 3 
 By glide ring moon-light thro’ the fnow. 
 
9 6 
 
 -ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 Breathes foftly in her wondering ear 
 Each potent fpell thou badft him know. 
 By thee infpir’d, on India’s fands, 4 
 Full in the fun the Bramin Hands; 
 
 And, while the panting tigrefs hies 
 To quench her fever in the ftream, 
 
 His fpirit laughs in agonies, 5 
 Smit by the fcorchings of the noontide beam. 
 Mark who mounts the facred pyre. 
 Blooming in her bridal veil : 
 
 She hurls the torch! fhe fans the fire ! 
 
 To die is to be bleft : 6 
 She clafps her lord to part no more, 
 And, fighing, finks! but finks to foar. 
 O’erfhadowing Scotia’s defert coaft. 
 The Sifters fail in dulky ftate, 7 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 97 
 
 And, wrapt in clouds, in tempefts toft. 
 
 Weave the airy web of fate; 
 
 While the lone Ihepherd, near the fhiplefs main, 8 
 Sees o’er her hills advance the long-drawn funeral train. 
 
 U. x. 
 
 Thou fpak’ft, and lo ! a new creation glow’d. 
 Each unhewn mafs of living (tone 
 Was clad in horrors not its own. 
 
 And at its bafe the trembling nations bow’d. 
 
 Giant Error, darkly grand, 
 
 Grafp’d the globe with iron hand. 
 
 Circled with feats of blifs, the Lord of Light 
 Saw proftrate worlds adore his golden height. 
 
 The ftatue, waking with immortal powers, 9 
 Springs from its parent earth, and (hakes the fpheres ; 
 
9 s 
 
 ODE TO SUPERSTITION, 
 
 The indignant pyramid fublimely towers, 
 
 And braves the efforts of a hoft of years. 
 
 Sweet Mufic breathes her foul into the wind ; 
 
 And bright-ey’d Painting ftamps the image of the min d. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Round their rude ark old Egypt’s forcerers rife! 
 
 A timbrell’d anthem fwells the gale, 
 
 And bids the God of Thunders hail; 10 
 With lowings loud the captive God replies. 
 
 Clouds of incenfe court thy fmile. 
 
 Scaly monarch of the Nile ! * i 
 But ah! what myriads claim the bended knee?*^ 
 Go, count the bufy drops that fwell the fea. 
 
 Proud land! what eye can trace thy myftic lore. 
 Lock’d up in charafters as dark as night ? 13 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 99 
 
 What eye thofe long, long labyrinths dare explore, 14 
 To which the parted foul oft wings her flight; 
 Again to vifit her cold cell of clay. 
 
 Charm’d with perennial fweets, and fmiling at decay ? 
 
 II. 3. 
 
 On yon hoar furnmit, mildly bright 1 5 
 With purple ether’s liquid light. 
 
 High o’er the world, the white-rob’d Magi gaze 
 On dazzling burfts of heav’nly fire ; 
 
 Start at each blue, portentous blaze. 
 
 Each flame that flits with adverfe fpire. 
 
 But fay, what founds my ear invade 16 
 From Delphi’s venerable fhade? 
 
 The temple rocks, the laurel waves ! 
 
 “ The God! the God!” the Sybil cries. 
 
ICO 
 
 ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 Her figure fwells ! Ihe foams, file raves ! 
 
 Her figure fwells to more than mortal fize! 
 Streams of rapture roll along, 
 
 Silver notes afcend the Ikies : 
 
 Wake, Echo, wake and catch the fong, 
 
 Oh catch it, ere it dies. 
 
 The Sybil fpeaks, the dream is o’er, 
 
 The holy harpings charm no more. 
 
 In vain flie checks the God’s controul ; 
 
 His madding fpirit fills her frame, 
 
 And moulds the features of her foul. 
 
 Breathing a prophetic flame. 
 
 The cavern frowns! its hundred mouths unclofe! 
 And, in the thunder’s voice, the fate of empire flows., 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 IOI 
 
 III. I. 
 
 Mona, thy Druid- rites awake the dead ! 
 
 Rites thy brown oaks would never dare 
 Ev’n whifper to the idle air ; 
 
 Rites that have chain’d old Ocean on his bed. 
 Shiver’d by thy piercing glance, 
 
 Pointlefs falls the hero’s lance. 
 
 Thy magic bids the imperial eagle fly, 1 7 
 And mars the laureate wreath of viftory. 
 
 Hark, the bard’s foul infpires the vocal firing ! 
 
 At every paufe dread Silence hovers o’er : 
 
 While murky Night fails round on raven-wing, 
 Deepening the tempeft’s howl, the torrent’s roar ; 
 Chas’d by the morn from Snowdon’s awful brow, 
 Where late (he fat and fcowl’d on the black wave below. 
 
 H 
 
102 
 
 ODE TO SUPERSTITION* 
 
 III. 2. 
 
 Lo, fteel-clad War his gorgeous ftandard rears! 
 
 The red-crofs fquadrons madly rage, *8 
 And mow thro’ infancy and age ; 
 
 Then kifs the facred dull and melt in tears. 
 
 Veiling from the eye of day. 
 
 Penance dreams her life away ; 
 
 In cloifter’d folitude fhe fits and fighs. 
 
 While from each fhrine ftill, fmall refponfes rife. 
 Hear, with what heart-felt beat, the midnight bell 
 Swings its flow fummons thro* the hollow pile ! 
 
 The weak, wan votarift leaves her twilight cell. 
 
 To walk, with taper dim, the winding iflej 
 With choral chantings vainly to afpire. 
 
 Beyond this nether fphere, on Rapture’s wing of fire. 
 
J?/i cAy/.i/w*/ so/duds s/te sds < )\’u//s . 
 
 IfZ't'le /n»n tacA sA U*te Jill J»udl res/umjes /use 
 
 by T.GideU Strand 
 
 Published May 2Q . 1 793 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 103 
 
 III. 3. 
 
 Lord of each pang the nerves can feel. 
 Hence, with the rack and reeking wheel. 
 Faith lifts the foul above this little ball ! 
 While gleams of glory open round. 
 
 And circling choirs of angels call, 
 
 Can’ll thou, with all thy terrors crown’d, 
 Hope to obfcure that latent fpark, 
 
 , Deftin’d to Ihine when funs are dark ? 
 
 Thy triumphs ceafe ! thro’ every land, 
 
 Hark! Truth proclaims, thy triumphs ceafe : 
 Her heav’nly form, with glowing hand. 
 Benignly points to piety and peace. 
 
 Flulh’d with youth, her looks impart 
 Each fine feeling as it flows ; 
 
 H 2 
 
104 ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 Her voice the echo of her heart. 
 
 Pure as the mountain-fnows : 
 
 Celeftial tranfports round her play. 
 
 And foftly, fweetly die away. 
 
 She fmiles! and where is now the cloud 
 That blacken’d o’er thy baleful reign ? 
 
 Grim Darknefs furls his leaden fhroud, 
 Shrinking from her glance in vain. 
 
 Her touch unlocks the day-fpring from above. 
 And lo ! it vifits man with beams of light and love, 
 
 THE END. 
 
NOTES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 Note i. Page 94. 
 
 Thy touch , thy deadening touch , &c. 
 
 An allufion to the facrifice of Iphigenia. 
 
 Note 2. Page 94. 
 
 When , with a frown that froze the peopled earth , 
 Thou dartedfi thy huge head from high— 
 
 Humana ante oculos fcede cum vita jaceret 
 In terris opprefla gravi fub religione, 
 
 Quas caput a cceli regionibus oftendebat, 
 Horribili fuper afpeftu mortalibus inftans, See. 
 
 Lucretius, 1 . i. v. 63. 
 
io6 
 
 NOTES ON THE 
 
 Note 3. Page g$. 
 
 The fur-clad fa^vage , ere he guides his deer — 
 When we were ready to fet out, our hoft mutter- 
 ed fome words in the ears of our cattle. 
 
 See a Voyage to the North of Europe in 1653. 
 
 Note 4. Page 96. 
 
 By thee infpir d, on India s fandsy &C. 
 
 The Bramins voluntarily expofe their bodies to 
 the intenfe heat of the fun. 
 
 Note 5. Page 96. 
 
 His fpirit laughs in agonies. 
 
 Ridens moriar. The conclufion of an old Runic 
 ode, preferred by Olaus Wormius. 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. I07 
 
 Note 6 . Page 96. 
 
 To die is to be bleji. 
 
 In the Bedas, or facred writings of the Hindoos, 
 is this paflage : “ She, who dies with her hufband, 
 lhall live for ever with him in heaven.” 
 
 Note 7. Page 96. 
 
 The Sifters fail in dufky Jlate. 
 
 The Fates of the Northern Mythology. See 
 Mallet’s Antiquities. 
 
 Note 8. Page 97. 
 
 While the lone Jhepherd , near the Jhiplefs main— 
 An allufion to the Second Sight. 
 
io8 
 
 NOTES ON THE 
 
 Note 9. Page 97. 
 
 The Jlatue, • waking with vnmortal powers— 
 
 See that fine defcription of the fudden animation 
 of the Palladium in the fecond book of the ^Eneid. 
 
 Note 10. Page 98. 
 
 And bids the God of Thunders hail . 
 
 The bull. Apis. 
 
 Note 11. Page 98. 
 
 Scaly monarch of the Nile / 
 The Crocodile. 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. I09 
 
 Note 12. Page 98. 
 
 But ah ! nvhat myriads claim the bended knee ? 
 
 So numerous were the Deities of Egypt, that, 
 according to an ancient proverb, it was in that 
 country lefs difficult to find a god than a man. 
 
 Note 13. Page 98. 
 
 Lock'd up in characters as dark as night. 
 
 The Hieroglyphics. 
 
 Note 14. Page 99. 
 
 < Thofe long, long labyrinths — 
 
 The Catacombs, in which the bodies of the ear- 
 lieft generations yet remain without corruption, by 
 virtue of the gums that embalmed them. 
 
I 10 
 
 NOTES ON THE ' - > 
 
 Note 15. Page 99. 
 
 On yon hoar fummit, mildly bright — 
 f ‘ The Perlians,” fays Herodotus, “ rejefl the 
 ufe of temples, altars, and llatues. The tops of 
 the higheft mountains are the places chofen for 
 facrifices.” The elements, and more particularly 
 Fire, were the objefts of their religious reverence. 
 
 N»te 16. Page 99. 
 
 But fay , rwhat founds my ear invade — 
 
 An imitation of fome wonderful lines in the fixth 
 book of the iEneid. 
 
 Note 17. Page ior. 
 
 Thy magic bids the imperial eagle fly. 
 
 See Tacitus, 1. xiv. c. 29. 
 
ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 
 
 I I I 
 
 N„qte i 8 . Page 162. 
 
 . The red-crofs fquadrons madly rage. 
 
 This remarkable event happened at the fiege and 
 fack of Jerufalem, in the laft year of the eleventh 
 century, when the triumphant croifes, after every 
 enemy was fubdued and flaughtered, immediately 
 turned themfelves, with the fentiments of humilia- 
 tion and contrition, towards the holy fepulchre. 
 They threw afide their arms, ftill breaming with 
 blood : they advanced with reclined bodies, and 
 naked feet and head, to that facred monument : 
 they fung anthems to their Saviour who had pur- 
 chafed their falvation by his death and agony : and 
 their devotion, enlivened by the prefence of the 
 place where he had fuffered, fo overcame their fury. 
 
1 12 NOTES, &C. 
 
 that they diffolved in tears, and bore the appearance 
 of every foft and tender fentiment. 
 
 Hume I. 221. 
 
THE SAILOR. 
 
 AN ELEGY. 
 
 The Sailor fighs as finks his native Ihore, 
 As all its leffening turrets bluely fade ; 
 
 He climbs the maft to feaft his eye once more. 
 And bufy Fancy fondly lends her aid. 
 
 Ah ! now, each dear, domeftic fcene he knew. 
 Recall’d and cherilh’d in a foreign clime, 
 Charms with the magic of a moonlight-view. 
 Its colours mellow’d, not impair’d, by time. 
 
THE SAILOR. 
 
 114 
 
 True as the needle, homeward points his heart. 
 Thro’ all the horrors of the ftormy main ; 
 
 This, the laft wilh with which its warmth could part, 
 To meet the fmile of her he loves again. 
 
 When Morn firft faintly draws her filver line. 
 
 Or Eve’s gray cloud defcends to drink the wave ; 
 When fca and iky in midnight darknefs join, 
 
 Still, * ftill he views the parting look ihe gave. 
 
 Her gentle fpirit, lightly hovering o’er. 
 
 Attends his little bark from pole to pole ; 
 
 And, when the beating billows round him roar, 
 Whifpers fweet hope to footh his troubled foul. 
 
THE SAILOR. 
 
 JI 5 
 
 Carv’d is her name in many a fpicy grove. 
 
 In many a plantain-foreft, waving wide ; 
 
 < . t . v, ’ 4 • 
 
 Where dulky youths in painted plumage rove. 
 
 And giant-palms o’er-arch the yellow tide. 
 
 But lo, at laft he comes with crowded fail ! 
 
 Lo, o’er the cliff what eager figures bend ! 
 
 And hark, what mingled murmurs fwell the gale ! 
 In each he hears the welcome of a friend. 
 
 — ’Tis fhe, .’tis fhe herfelf! fhe waves her hand! 
 Soon is the anchor call, the canvas furl’d ; 
 
 Soon thro’ the whitening furge he fprings to land_, 
 And clafps the maid he fingled from the world. 
 
VERSES 
 
 O N A 
 
 tear. 
 
 Oh ! that the Chemifts magic art 
 Could cryftallize this facred treafure ! 
 Long Ihould it glitter near my heart, 
 A fecret fource of penfive pleafure. 
 
 The little brilliant, ere it fell. 
 
 Its luftre caught from Chloe’s eye; 
 Then, trembling, left its coral cell — ■ 
 The fpring of Senfibility! 
 
XERSES ON A TEAR. 
 
 Sweet drop of pure and pearly light ! 
 
 In thee the rays of Virtue fhine ; 
 
 More calmly clear, more mildly bright, 
 Than any gem that gilds the mine. 
 
 Benign reftorer of the foul 
 Who ever fly’ll to bring relief. 
 
 When firft Ihe feels the rude controul 
 Of Love or Pity, Joy or Grief. 
 
 The fage’s and the poet’s theme. 
 
 In every clime, in every age ; 
 
 Thou charm’ll in Fancy’s idle dream, 
 In Reafon’s philofophic page. 
 
VERSES ON A TEAR. 
 
 That very law* which moulds a tear, 
 And bids it trickle from its fource. 
 That law preferves the earth a fphere. 
 And guides the planets in their courfe. 
 
 r 
 
 * The law of Gravitation, 
 
A 
 
 SKETCH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ALPS AT DAY-BREAK. 
 
 The fun-beams ftreak the azure Ikies, 
 
 And line with light the mountain’s brow : 
 
 With hounds and horns the hunters rife. 
 
 And chafe the roebuck thro’ the fnow. 
 
 From rock to rock, with giant-bound, 
 
 High on their iron poles they pafs; 
 
 Mute, left the air, convuls’d by found, 
 
 Rend from above a frozen mafs*. 
 
 * There are paffes in the Alps, where the guides tell you to 
 move on with fpced, and fay nothing, left the agitation of the 
 air fhould loofen the fnows above. Gray, fe£t. v. let. 4. 
 
120 
 
 A SKETCH OF THE ALPS. 
 
 The goats wind flow their wonted way. 
 Up craggy fteeps and ridges rude ; 
 Mark’d by the wild wolf for his prey. 
 From defert cave or hanging wood. 
 
 And while the torrent thunders loud. 
 And as the echoing cliffs reply, 
 
 The huts peep o’er the morning-cloud, 
 Perch’d, like an eagle’s neft, on high. 
 
_\ 
 
 A 
 
 WISH. 
 
 Mine be a cot befide the hill ; 
 
 A bee-hive’s hum fhall (both my ear ; 
 A willowy brook, that turns a mill. 
 With many a fall, fhall linger near. 
 
 The fwallow, oft, beneath my thatch, 
 Shall twitter from her clay-built neft ; 
 Oft fhall the pilgrim lift the latch, 
 And fhare my meal, a welcome gueft. 
 
122 
 
 A WISH. 
 
 Around my ivied porch fhall fpring 
 Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew ; 
 And Lucy, at her wheel, fhall fing. 
 
 In ruflet gown and apron blue. 
 
 The village-church, among the trees. 
 Where firft our marriage-vows were giv’n. 
 With merry peals fhall fwell the breeze. 
 And point with taper fpire to heav’n. 
 
A N 
 
 ITALIAN SONG. 
 
 D E A R is my little native vale. 
 
 The ring-dove builds and warbles there; 
 Clofe by my cot Ihe tells her tale 
 To every palling villager. 
 
 The fquirrel leaps from tree to tree. 
 
 And Ihells his nuts at liberty. 
 
 In orange-groves and myrtle-bowers. 
 
 That breathe a gale of fragrance round, 
 
 I charm the fairy-footed hours 
 With my lov’d lute’s romantic found; 
 
124 
 
 AN ITALIAN SONG. 
 
 Or crowns of living laurel weave. 
 
 For thofe that win the race at eve. 
 
 The fhepherd’s horn at break of day. 
 The ballet danc’d in twilight glade. 
 The canzonet and roundelay 
 Sung in the filent green-wood lhade j 
 Thefe Ample joys, that never fail. 
 Shall bind me to my native vale. 
 
 THE END.