Class, T ; - 5 779 
 Book - A// % M 
 
THE MO T H E R: 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 IN FIVE BOOKS. 
 
 
 BY MRS. WEST, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 " LETTERS TO A YOUNG MAN," &c. 
 
 * See a fond mother encircled by her children : with pious tenderness 
 she looks around, and her soul even melts with maternal love. One she 
 kisses on the forehead, and clasps another to her bosom. One she sets 
 upon her knee, and finds a seat upon her foot for another. And while, 
 by their actions, their lisping words, and asking eyes, she understands 
 their various, numberless tittle wishes, to these she dispenses a look ; a 
 word to those ; but whether she smiles or frowns, 'tis all in tender love." 
 From the Italian ofVincenzio Da Filkaja, translated by Richardson, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, 
 PATERNOSTER -ROW. 
 
 1809. 
 
in t 
 
 Brown Uxiiversity 
 
 MAY 1 1932 
 
PR S77? 
 
 INTRODUCTORY SONNET. 
 
 Go, child of feeling, to the world explain 
 That thou wast bom in care's dejected year, 
 Cherish- d with sighs, bedew'd with many a tear, 
 
 And nurtur'd far from pleasure's laughing train ; 
 
 Nor would that flattering wizard friendship deign 
 Th' unwelcome birth with omens bright to cheer. 
 Go, and to mothers pour thy descant clear; 
 
 Mothers will surely love a mother's strain. 
 
 But, should they scorn thee, shew them thou canst 
 Neglect with conscious dignity serene ; [bear 
 And silent to oblivion's cave repair, 
 Where sit thy sisters of poetic sheen, 
 
 Waiting till fashion lead them forth to day. 
 
 Green from the poet's ashes springs the bay. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Book I.— INFANCY „ 1 
 
 II.— RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION 43 
 
 III.— EDUCATION., ,- 83 
 
 IV.— SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN 121 
 
 V.— MATERNAL SORROWS 167 
 
THE MOTHER. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Invocation to Nature. Address to young women to be careful 
 in their conjugal choice. Licentious, irreligious men make 
 bad fathers. A coxcomb described in low life. Consider- 
 ed as the father of a family. Misfortune of having a 
 spendthrift-husband, or an illiterate, covetous one. Not to 
 expect a faultless character. Misery of communicating 
 hereditary diseases to children. Marriage requires forti- 
 tude and patience. Birth of a first-born child. Its sup- 
 posed address to its mother. Transport of the parents; 
 yet fear is blended with joy. Its baptism. Attention of 
 the mother to the infant's bodily wants and diseases. Death 
 of a young child. Blameable grief of the mother. The 
 sorrows and cares of her whose family increases beyond 
 her means of supporting it. Advantages of a hardy edu- 
 cation and early difficulties. The wealthy enjoined not to 
 make their children selfish, or vain, or fastidious. The 
 aspect of the times requires generosity and fortitude. Dan- 
 ger of Britain. State of European sovereigns. Sweden. 
 Emigration of the Braganza family. 
 
MOTHER. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 INFANCY. 
 
 x sing the mother's duties, joys, and cares. 
 Ye matrons of the British isles ! who best 
 Deserve that name, protect the votive song ! 
 And thou, ail powerful Nature ! at whose shrine, 
 Hung by simplicity with offerings chaste, 
 The wise and virtuous bend, give to the strain 
 That paints thee, in thy best and holiest form, 
 Full inspiration ! grant it strength to rise, 
 Pathos to melt, persuasion to subdue, 
 And grace to charm. Hence every theme profane ; 
 
4 INFANCY. 
 
 All that is gross, fallacious, or absurd, 
 
 All that vain fashion's votaries prefer 
 
 To thy behests ; all that philosophy 
 
 Falsely so call'd, the idol of the age, 
 
 In maniac day-dreams tells her worshippers. 
 
 Nor let it less avoid the narrow aims 
 
 Of sordid souls, who, by capricious whim, 
 
 Or envious pride, or partial spleen abus'd, 
 
 Forget the mother in the bigot's name. 
 
 Far from such themes my varying song revolts 
 
 Indignant, and far other audience claims. 
 
 And ye, fair maids ! thron'd in the early pride 
 Of beauty's reign, fly not alarm'd : my lay 
 Courts the chaste ears of those who wish to lead 
 Their willing captives to the honoured shrine 
 Of life-endearing Hymen. Ev'n to you 
 Th' unborn maternal passion pleads to check 
 The pride of levity, the rash resolve 
 Of doting, headstrong, eye-directed love. 
 
INFANCY. 
 
 Is there among your train a youth whose arts 
 Triumphed o'er virgin fame ; who mocks at faith 
 Divine and human ; who, with boastful air, 
 Recounts his orgies to the bestial powers, 
 Bacchus, or Paphian Venus ? Tho' his form 
 Vie with Adonis, tho' in wealth he seem 
 First born of Plutus, and in fame excel 
 Alcmena's son, reject his baleful vows* 
 Give hot your future progeny a sire 
 Whose deeds shall soil the gloss of youthful hope, 
 Or chill with deadly damps the ardent glow 
 Of generous emulation. Spare your heart 
 The pang it must endure, when the apt child 
 Turns o'er the sacred page, and weeping sees 
 Its father rank'd in Belial's cursed train, 
 Or Baal's slave, at enmity with heav'n. 
 Amid the haunts of guileless infancy, 
 Sacred to truth, can ye assume disguise 
 To gloss the crimes your intercessive prayers 
 Daily bewail ? Or bid th' ingenuous boy, 
 
6 INFANCY. 
 
 Panting with virtuous energy, divide 
 
 The sinner from the parent ? Modest, fair 
 
 And innocent, your lovely daughters bloom. 
 
 Must they, with blushing cheeks and wounded hearts, 
 
 Fly from the guilty licence of the man 
 
 Who gave them being ; lest the voice design'd 
 
 To utter benedictions, and call down 
 
 Unction celestial, should profane their ears 
 
 With jests obscene, or vaunting blasphemies • 
 
 Satan's accursed dialect; — to God 
 
 Most impious, and most horrible to man ! 
 
 No^let the coxcomb, forward, pert, and bold, 
 With swing important, vesture alamode, 
 Half bred, half civil, half informed, half wise, 
 Uttering quaint nothings, with distorted face, 
 And gestures from some ouran-outang caught 
 Seen at a raree-show; a spurious brood, 
 To Britain once unknown, familiar now 
 To crowded cities and to rustic burghs : 
 
INFANCY. 
 
 Let not this prating Dapper-wit, who gibes 
 
 At courts and camps, yet parodies their crimes, 
 
 Win wondering Cicely from blunt Colin Clout, 
 
 The honest son of pure simplicity, 
 
 Attractive even in his rustic garb. 
 
 No : let her call Audrey and Blowsibel 
 
 To strip the jackdaw of his plumes, and toss 
 
 His self-invested greatness to the wind. 
 
 Still be Narcissus, self-adorer, woo'd 
 By Echo's empty voice : at Hymen's shrine 
 He is no seemly votary. View, ye fair, 
 The shallow coxcomb, by some chance perverse, 
 In the connubial or paternal chair 
 Uncouthly seated. Quaint, disgustful, strange, 
 The creature looks : his babes are squalling brats, 
 His servants scoundrels, and his wife a fool. 
 Nothing is right, save his own perfect self, 
 That paragon of wisdom ! For the grin 
 That strains his jaws in public, yields at home 
 
INFANCY. 
 
 To sour dictatorship and sov'reign rule, 
 
 Worse than a Turkish Bassa. Cold his heart, 
 
 Cold as the frigid arctic, raid the reign 
 
 Of Pisces, to all human weal or Woe, 
 
 Save his own precious person. Does the rheum 
 
 Affect his teeth ? Has the tyrannic gout, 
 
 That keen remembrancer of idleness, 
 
 Enslav'd his finger ? Vassal woman, come ! 
 
 Clothe every door with woollen garniture ; 
 
 Chain every foot, but that which flies to tend 
 
 Th' important sufferer ; nor let a sound 
 
 Disturb the ceaseless knell of his complaints, 
 
 Or bid him recollect, beside himself, 
 
 The world has living creature. Chiefly bind 
 
 Yon healthful boy, impatient to bestride 
 
 His wooden hobby ; to disturb papa 
 
 Is worse than sacrilege : and let the nurse 
 
 Convey the unfed infant from thine arms ; 
 
 For thou must watch the slumbers of a brat 
 
 More wayward and less hopeful. Such the scenes 
 
I N F A N C Y. 9 
 
 That early wait thy inauspicious bond ; 
 To be succeeded by more dol'rous days, 
 When time shall ripen an unsightly brood 
 Of untrain'd daughters and neglected sons. 
 Vulgar and gaunt in manners and in mien; 
 Mute in the haunts of meet society, 
 From awkward shame, or folly ever proud, 
 Yet noisy with the house-maid and the groom ; 
 Retorting hatred, scorn, and obloquy 
 On him whose selfish bosom never knew 
 A father's duty, and shall never feel 
 A father's transport or a father's hope. 
 
 " Yet," cries th' enamour'd maid, " Hilario view, 
 And bless the happy virgin whom he woos 
 With honourable vows. No coxcomb cold, 
 The social feelings flourish in bis heart 
 As in their proper soil. He, loathing, shuns 
 The harlot's haunts, nor does the drunkard's bowl 
 Tempt his abstemious lips. No loud complaints 
 B 5 
 
10 INFANCY. 
 
 Of virgin-innocence despoil'd invade 
 
 His peaceful visions. Of the purer charms, 
 
 Attractive science, and ingenious art, 
 
 A fervent worshipper ; the painter's friend, 
 
 The poet's theme and patron ; the sure aid 
 
 Of bare sufficiency, and clamorous want. 
 
 Generous, munificent, unique in taste, 
 
 Matchless in splendor, hospitable, frank, 
 
 The glory of society, the boast 
 
 Of numerous friends, for all who know him love, 
 
 And all affirm, chill prudence never clos'd 
 
 His ever bounteous hand/' Rash maid ! forbear 
 
 Thy praise, misplac'd ; or give him but thy praise ; 
 
 Not the full coffers and luxuriant meads 
 
 Thy frugal sire bequeath'd thee ; nor augment 
 
 A spendthrift's vanity ; nor swell the brood 
 
 Of ravening crows, who on his carrion wealth 
 
 Banquet voracious, and with scream' d applause 
 
 Deafen the wasteful Timon they despoil : 
 
 So shall no daughters portionless, no sons 
 
INFANCY. 11 
 
 Trick'd of their rich inheritance, and thrown 
 Poor outcasts on a cold upbraiding world, 
 Their mother's folly curse ; who madly launch'd 
 On the vast ocean of connubial care, 
 Discretion's guiding compass left on shore. 
 
 Does the blithe spinster, weary of control, 
 Stern contradiction, never-ending tasks, 
 And sway maternal, with a Cato's pride 
 Determine to be free ? Wise that resolve : 
 Yet seek not freedom from the brutal hand 
 Of Litbin, rich Camacho's darling son, 
 The tyrant of his family, the scourge 
 Of his indulgent mother. Long desir'd, 
 While many a female infant came unwish'd, 
 The boy at length was born : the idol boy, 
 Too precious to be early school'd, yet train'd 
 To know and value what should last be taught 
 And least esteem'd, his heirship to the mine, 
 The meadow, and the woodlands, and his power 
 
12 INFANCY. 
 
 To awe his dowerless sisters with his frowns. 
 
 O happier far the rose that blooms and dies 
 
 " In peaceful singleness/' than that remov'd 
 
 To the cold bosom of the niggard dolt, 
 
 Illiterate, cruel, clamorous, and stern; 
 
 Foe to each liberal thought, and every joy 
 
 Of temperate comfort : Mammon his sole God ; 
 
 Most arrogant in vulgar ignorance ; 
 
 Yet scouts he knowledge with opprobrious taunts. 
 
 And with the censures due to surly pride 
 
 Asperses bland politeness. Shun,, ye fair ! 
 
 \ fate like wandering Sindbad's, buried quick 
 
 With his dead spouse. O shun this sepulture 
 
 Of generous feeling, this perpetual death 
 
 Of joy, improvement, comfort, and repose 1 
 
 " How far proceeds the interdicting muse r" 
 Inquires Nerina, smiling : " Must we sit 
 Waiting in our bowers till men turn angels, 
 Watching our silkworms, toying with our cats. 
 
INFANCY. 13 
 
 Or lonely trilling the piano-notes 
 
 Of " none will come to marry me ?" Beware : 
 
 Nor, in thy wanton scorn, obliquely cast 
 
 Reproach on Britons. Are they misers all, 
 
 Spendthrifts, or sceptic-libertines, or fools ? 
 
 Let angel Candour o'er infirmity 
 
 Drop her white veil in mercy ; or, more oft, 
 
 Let error in the self-accusing heart 
 
 Of kindred error kind compassion meet, 
 
 And sufferance : nor, till faultless grown, expect 
 
 From Araby, Utopia, or the moon, 
 
 A phoenix-man to build for thee a nest 
 
 Of deathless odours, and all-healing balms ; 
 
 There, like the azure halcyon, bid thee brood 
 
 O'er love eternal and perpetual joy. 
 
 Only in haunts of fable or of song 
 
 Does perfect man reside ; on earth he walks 
 
 By folly and infirmity pursu'd. 
 
 Tho' on his heav'n-ward journey they retard 
 
 The dubious wanderer, fear not thou to join 
 
14 INFANCY. 
 
 A brother-pilgrim, who with heart sincere 
 Directs his course to Canaan. If he err, 
 He will retrace his steps, and onward speed 
 More zealous from transgression. Yet, ere love 
 Guides thy acceptance, give not error's name 
 To brutal appetites or devilish crimes. 
 These are not human weaknesses: these leave 
 A stain indelible, th* infernal scar 
 Of daring guilt, stubborn, and fix'd in ill. 
 
 Nor, tho' infirmity demands thy tear 
 Compassion, and thy ready arm to aid 
 His tottering steps, let not the blooming nymph 
 In life's fair prime for life's long partner choose 
 One faint and wayward, through the festering wounds 
 Of hopeless anguish; chief, when the deep taint 
 Fouls the polluted blood, and on the germ 
 Of infant beauty pours the mildew-blast 
 Of pale disease, or stains the glossy skin 
 With purple scrofula, or leprous scale ; 
 
INFANCY. 15 
 
 Or, with contractions, numbs th' expanding limbs 
 Just shooting into vigour; or with clouds 
 Impervious, shrouds the intellectual beam, 
 And leaves man human only in his form. 
 
 From the sad ministry of blank despair, 
 From the sharp pangs of unavailing love, 
 From the reproachful scorpions of remorse, 
 Ye future mothers ! save your hearts, and spare 
 Weak unresisting innocence those pains 
 Which the wise sybil Foresight's prescient glance 
 Discerns, scarce veird by time's thin flecker'd clouds. 
 Enough of long protracted watchings, hours 
 Of sad solicitude, and tender aids 
 Man's feeble race require. Come then, ye fair! 
 To Hymen's shrine, and in your spousal train 
 Bring Fortitude and Patience. Poesy 
 Mispaints the nuptial god. His saffron vest, 
 Like the cameleon, changes oft its hues; 
 And on his radiant torch there sometimes hang 
 
16 INFANCY. 
 
 Turbid or gloomy vapours. In his crown 
 
 Of roses lurks unseen, the rankling thorn ; 
 
 And oft the deadly aconite enwreaths 
 
 His sacrificial goblet: omen dire ! 
 
 Ah ! could my feeble voice from rural glens 
 
 To courts and cities sound, with power to call 
 
 Thy daughters, Folly ! from the late carouse 
 
 Of Comus, or the cumbrous toils of state, 
 
 Dangerous to health and fame ; but dangerous most 
 
 To fragile life, when Nature wisely bids 
 
 Th' expectant mother to the quiet haunts 
 
 Of ease and privacy, and social love ; 
 
 When pleasing, anxious, pensive cares and pains, 
 
 Wishes and sad presages, prayers and hopes, 
 
 Preluding terrors, clog the tedious hours 
 
 Of parturition, and with force combin'd 
 
 Shake the sad matron, writhing in the grasp 
 
 Of agonies most keen ; till the shrill cry 
 
 Of new-born life first wakens in her soul 
 
 Maternal tenderness. A pang succeeds, 
 
INFANCY. If 
 
 Sharp as the throes of pain ; her clasp' d hands drop ; — 
 
 O'er her flush *d cheek a dying paleness falls, 
 
 Like snow on the niezereon's crimson buds. 
 
 Thin visions float before her closing eyes ; 
 
 On her dull'd ear imperfect murmurs ring ; 
 
 Quick and unequal beats her heart. — " She faints ! " 
 
 TV assistants cry, as they with pungent salts 
 
 Chafe her cold, dewy temples. Yet, forbear, 
 
 Ministring friends ; for nature has at hand 
 
 Restorative more potent. Hark again 
 
 Those infant waitings, seem they not to say, 
 
 " Revive, my mother ! — lo ! thy feeble babe, 
 
 Shivering and helpless, shrinking from the weight 
 
 Of new existence, in thy bosom seeks 
 
 Its best protection. Who but thou canst brace 
 
 My nerveless limbs, or bid my imperfect sense 
 
 Expand to thought or virtue. O revive 
 
 To duties nobler than the painted gaudes 
 
 That busy idle beauty : to delights 
 
 Purer than e'er the midnight gala gave. 
 
J 8 INFANCY. 
 
 Here dread no rival. Here no wayward swain 
 Shall mock thy blandishments. Give me the hours 
 That dissipation claims : my smiles, the shout 
 Of infantine delight, my rosy charms 
 Unfolding fast, reason's enchanting dawn 
 Rip'ning to thought ; these are thy present meed ; 
 Thy future, grateful duty ; when thine age, 
 Tottering and helpless in the vale of years, 
 Shall ask the succour of an arm by thee 
 Nurtur'd to manly vigour, and a heart 
 Affectionately zealous by thy care 
 With early virtues sown, and bearing then 
 Fruit of most precious growth a thousand fold/' 
 
 Ye, in whose bosoms warm affection blends 
 With calm composure, blessed compound, say, 
 Is there a sight that wakes in gentle hearts 
 More exquisite delight than to behold 
 The joyful mother, with impatient love, 
 Receive her first-born child, and lift to heav'n 
 
INFANCY. 19 
 
 Eyes where devotion, thankfulness, and awe 
 
 Blend their expressive rays; then to its sire, 
 
 With smiles, commend the sacred pledge, and weep 
 
 Her gratulations ? Yet, with chast'ned joy, 
 
 Exulting pair, embrace the dubious boon — 
 
 Perchance a trial of your faith and strength 
 
 And confidence in heav'n; perchance a scourge 
 
 Of rebel-inclinations, craving cares, 
 
 Earthly and carnal passions, selfish aims 
 
 That should spring upward on the vaulting wings 
 
 Of holy expectation, patient, calm 
 
 And self-devoting; or, perhaps, this babe, 
 
 Helpless and petulant, puling and weak, 
 
 May prove the bulwark of your falling house, 
 
 Your guide, your refuge from injurious foes, 
 
 Your ornament, your glory. On the breast 
 
 Of Agrippina infant-Nero lay 
 
 A hopeful boy : in the gymnastic sports, 
 
 The circus, and the forum, she beheld 
 
 The peerless youth, and gloried in her son 3 
 
20 INFANC V. 
 
 Nor saw in him the matricide, ordain'd 
 To visit on her guilty head the crimes 
 Of fraud, ingratitude, and murder fouK 
 
 Amid thy daughters, Pharaoh ! the least priz'd 
 Was she whom Solomon espous'd, and sang 
 Id numbers more mellifluous than e'er flow'd 
 From Dorian pipe, or Tuscan lute ; yet she, 
 Scorn'd by her mother, by her brethren driv n 
 From Memphis' towers, among the vineyards stray 'd 
 Till the sun scath'd her beauty, sent to chase 
 The foxes from the tender grape, and rear 
 The frail pomegranate, while the nightingale 
 Sang lovetales to the rose. Unknown she mourn'd, 
 Till he, whose kingdom from Euphrates stretch'd 
 To IS ile, and from Palmyra to the shores 
 Of Ascalon, woo'd her with ample dower : 
 An ivory chariot, overlaid with gold, 
 And spearmen girt with golden mail convoy'd 
 The royal bride, attir'd in panoply 
 
INFANCY, 21 
 
 Most glorious, to her palace cedar-roof 'd, 
 Blazing with Ophir's wealth, and the vast pearls 
 Of Ormus, while Arabia's balms perfum'd 
 The colonnades. There sat she long the pride 
 Of eastern queens; the spouse of him renown'd 
 In every nation and in every age, 
 Most fortunate, most powerful, and most wise ; 
 Till lur'd to idol-worship by the snare 
 Of beauty, to uxorious dotage lov'd. 
 
 Happy the wife, who, by endearments chaste 
 And pure example, leads her wedded lord 
 To Siloa's fountain, whose pellucid rill 
 In youth he largely quaiFd ; till, by the world 
 Intic'd to taste her deleterious cup, 
 He left the life-bestowing stream. Again, 
 Led by connubial and paternal love, 
 Like Syrian Naaman in Jordan's flood, 
 He seeks the healing waters and is whole. 
 
22 INFANC Y. 
 
 The weeks of lauguishment discreetly giv n 
 To close retirement, see, with strength renew'd, 
 The christian matron, in the house of God 
 A fervent worshipper, fulfil the vows 
 Of pain and dolour, while exulting psalms 
 Of praise and blessing hail her. Nor alone 
 Seeks she the temple: there she also brings 
 An infant- suppliant, suing to be wash'd 
 In the baptismal laver, and receiv'd 
 Within the church's consecrated pale, 
 Of high peculiar privilege inserib'd 
 Free denizen of heav'n : title divine I 
 Unalienable, save by future guilt 
 Of bold rebellion. Ministers of peace ! 
 Receive these little tremblers to your arms ; 
 And with the tenderness of Him whose name 
 You iuvocate, pronounce them meet for heav'n: 
 Imploring the pure Spirit so to guide 
 Their voyage through th§ troubled waves of time, 
 As in that harbour thev at last raav rest. 
 
INFANCY. 23 
 
 Thus in the christian commonwealth enroll 'd 
 A future claimant of those glorious hopes ; 
 Transcendiug thought ! maternal care reverts 
 From the undying spirit heav'n -derived, 
 To its frail tenement of clay earth-born, 
 And earth-devoted. Ev'n in early life 
 The never resting family of pain 
 Vex with allow'd hostility the race 
 Of rebel Adam. Instruments of good, 
 Tho' of infernal origin, they come, 
 By the sharp anguish of the suff 'ring babe 
 To discipline the mother, and exalt 
 Her carnal wishes, still inclin'd to build 
 Her tabernacle on mount Tabor's side ; 
 Nor, looking o'er it on th' eternal hills, 
 Seek a more firm foundation for her hopes. 
 For this her heart is often doomM to wail; 
 Her beauteous scion, blasted as a plant 
 Pierc'd at the root by reptile vermin, droops ; 
 Nor genial suns, nor tepid gales, nor showers 
 
21? INFANCY. 
 
 Call'd by Favonius from the balmy souths 
 Renew its freshness. Thus, Celina, fail'd 
 Thy anxious care to save the loveliest babe 
 Heav'n ever lent to man ; whose cherub smile 
 Spoke the mild beauty of the happy realm 
 To which the infant pilgrim soon aspir'd, 
 Weary of suffering, to assume the crown 
 Of immortality. And did thy grief, 
 Celina, swell beyond the lawful bound 
 Of calm regret, which, while it deeply feels, 
 Endures the chastisement in meekness? Yes, 
 Frantic in agony thou didst accuse 
 Capricious Heav'n, thus early to resume 
 A gift so highly priz'd, so long desir'd ; 
 Shrouding in endless gloom thy day-dreams, erst 
 Employ'd in painting the fair creature's fame, 
 Prosperity, and bliss. O most unwise 
 And most unhappy ! Hast thou not survived 
 To wish thy other offspring in the grave 
 In holy hope, like this now envied child, 
 
INFANCY. 25 
 
 Reposing. Then had thy sad heart escap'd 
 The mother's tortures most extreme, who lives 
 To every fear, but dies to every joy : 
 While, like accursed Cain, her guilty race 
 Wander, abhorr'd and dreaded through the land • 
 
 Learn then, fond woman ! who art call'd to yield 
 An infant songster to the choir of heav'n, 
 Thy proper duty ; or, suppose thy lot 
 (Once deem'd the summit of all earthly joys) 
 Be to attend, with never ceasing care, 
 A healthful numerous brood. They multiply 
 Beyond the means of competence. O cast 
 Thy care on Him who for the sparrow cares> 
 And rears the ostrich on Arabian sands 
 Left by its heedless parent. But first doff 
 Thy robes of state and cumbrous ornaments ; 
 These would impede thy labours in the task 
 Of honourable duty ; nor suspect 
 The neat attire of plain simplicity 
 c 
 
26 INFANCY. 
 
 Will veil a matron's sober charms. How look'd 
 
 Cornelia, splendid in the cultur'd worth 
 
 Of her renowned offspring, when she left 
 
 To Lesbia and to Glycera those gems 
 
 That would profane the chaste magnificence 
 
 Of proud maternal wealth. With these vain gaudes 
 
 Dismiss the fond desire which would renew 
 
 Expensive pleasures. Be the nursery 
 
 Thy theatre, the school thy masquerade, 
 
 The evening walk thy gala festival ; 
 
 But come not to the scenes where thou shouldst reign 
 
 The priestess of instruction and of joy, 
 
 With brow austere, cold as the anchorite, 
 
 Or pale and mournful as the victim-nun 
 
 Torn from a world she idoliz'd, and doom'd 
 
 To loath'd seclusion. No, with cheerful smiles 
 
 Sauce thy plain viands, and with sweet discourse 
 
 Flavour the Spartan cup Discretion sage 
 
 (An iron-hearted virtue) bids thee use 
 
 For daily beverage : so may'st thou beguile 
 
INFANCY. £7 
 
 Thy less abstemious husband from the haunts 
 
 Of gay indulgence to thy frugal board ; 
 
 Content, and gladdening with his kind regard 
 
 Thy skill and well-arrang'd economy. 
 
 Thus thrifty Eve her banquet neatly spread 
 
 For Adam and his angel-visitant, 
 
 Herbs their repast, but they convers'd of heaven. 
 
 " Preacher proceed," the pensive mother cries, 
 Who, nurs'd herself in elegance, requires 
 For her lov'd babes like comforts. " Come, and swear, 
 Swear by experience, solid test, that joy 
 Awaits on fearful, watchful parsimony. 
 Tho' to thy palate wines of Burgundy 
 May seem less grateful than the cowslip's flower 
 Brew'd by the cottage-dame; tho* costly cates 
 Arrang'd in tasteful plenty only pall 
 Thy coarser appetite, by choice connVd 
 To simple food ; tho' thou dost estimate 
 The woollen garb that shrouds thy limbs beyond 
 
28 INFANCY. 
 
 Thin gossamer, wov'n in the looms of Inde 
 
 And starr'd with sparkling gems ; altho' thy ear, 
 
 Rustic and cold to music's charms, prefers 
 
 The artless carol of the milkmaid's song 
 
 To Catalani's strains, mov'd but to spleen 
 
 By Spagnoletti's quavers, hard to play, 
 
 And wonderful alike to see and hear ; 
 
 Tho' dearer is the converse of thy boys 
 
 Than the full rout, and the fresh evening walk 
 
 Exceeds the chariot's lounge : has wealth no joys 
 
 Save the fictitious pleasures she affords 
 
 To pamper' d luxury and dreaming sloth ? 
 
 Does the immortal mind, because press'd down 
 
 By care's incessant harass, higher vault, 
 
 And with more freedom through its native skies 
 
 Expatiate ? Hast thou never felt a pang 
 
 When from thy door a worthy suppliant, 
 
 Or creditor unsatisfied, has turn'd 
 
 In disappointed silence? If thy breast 
 
 Feel not the gibe of vulgar affluence, 
 
INFANCY. 20 
 
 The coarse regard of ostentatious wealth, 
 
 Offensive ev'n in liberality, 
 
 Because unsoften'd by the chaste relief 
 
 Of kindness, melting at the woes she heals ; 
 
 If thou canst exile bounty, fetter taste, 
 
 And bid a long farewell to letter'd ease, 
 
 Which sweetly banquets in the vacant hour ; 
 
 If, or by nature callous, or by pride 
 
 Stiffened to fortitude, these evils fall 
 
 On thy firm heart like snow on marble, yet 
 
 Thou art a mother, vulnerable there 
 
 Where poverty wounds deepest. Hast thou seen 
 
 The goodly field of genius barren lie 
 
 A waste uncultur'd, nor the cleansing tilth 
 
 Of education, nor the golden seed 
 
 Of enterprise allow'd ? Or hast thou mark'd 
 
 The prize, which justice to thy studious boy 
 
 Awarded, ravish' d by some wealthy fool, 
 
 Whose narrow soul despis'd what he purloin'd ? 
 
 Or, worse than all, ev'n on the ripening cheek 
 
30 INFANCY. 
 
 Of virgin beauty hast thou look'd with dread, 
 Pondering the evils which the world prepares 
 For weak, unportion'd innocence, compell'd 
 To quit its parent-nest, and fly abroad 
 To seek subsistence in those forest-haunts 
 Where felon kites and murderous snares abound?" 
 
 Inquire not what this heart hath felt ; enough 
 It is not callous, but can weep with those 
 " Who strive with adverse fortune to be just*;" 
 Their bodies delicate, their souls refin'd 
 To tremulous impatience. Yet be firm, 
 Resign not to low opulence the palm 
 Of pleasure or content, deserv'd alone 
 By liberal wealth, munificent and wise, 
 Pleas' d to bestow, and in bestowing blest, 
 Ev'n the cold grot of bare sufficiency, 
 If independent courage shelter there, 
 
 * Akenside. — " Of him who strives with fortune to be just** 
 
INFANCY. 31 
 
 Shall mock the gawdy palaces of ease, 
 
 And to his swolfn and pamper'd sons oppose 
 
 Her ruddy offspring, train'd to brave the winds 
 
 Which howl'd around the rocky promontory 
 
 From whence they gaz'd at life. Skill' d to conies. ti 
 
 With the night-riding tempest, or to stem 
 
 The boiling surges vex'd by winter's storms, 
 
 These will not shrink from puny ills ; to these 
 
 Rest is not sick caprice or moody spleen, 
 
 But ecstasy and transport. Try them now 
 
 In infancy : this toy, the youthful heir 
 
 Of yon rich worldling, toss'd it from his grasp 
 
 While pouting for the moon. Give it thy child, 
 
 A rare reward for early diligence. 
 
 Is it a treasure ? Yes ; his glist/ning eyes, 
 
 His eager hands, his look of triumph, shew 
 
 'Twill long be precious, hoarded carefully 
 
 At night, and sought at morning; kept with art 
 
 From envious sisters, and by force withheld 
 
 From sturdy brothers, struggling for the prize, 
 
32 
 
 INFANCY. 
 
 His right, his recompence. In future life 
 Thus with most dear affection will he clasp 
 The hard-earn'd comforts of his home, the bed 
 Bought by assiduous watching, the repast 
 For which brown industry hath cater'd well ; 
 Unlike the morsel flatter'd greatness throws 
 To the base sycophant it feeds and scorns. 
 Yet is not wealth a blessing ? Wisely us'd 
 'Tis of the primal stamp. Come, ye who bask 
 In the full splendor of its fervid sun, 
 O come and learn to give your darling babes 
 The good of every station, peace, content, 
 Minds undebauch'd, and bodies vigorous ; 
 Nor to the vile idolatry of self 
 In purse, and heart, and thought devoted all. 
 No bliss the narrow worldling feels, enjoys 
 No good ; he envies the laborious hind, 
 Yet shrinks from exercise ; his cheek is pale 
 To hear the students' triumphs, tho' the book 
 Falls from his hand ; he wishes for renown, 
 
INFANCY. 33 
 
 Yet, but by superfluity of spleen, 
 Aims at distinction. On one little nave 
 Revolve his views ; and all the world is blind, 
 Idiot or knavish, envious or unjust, 
 Save the led captain, or the humble friend, 
 Who daily strike the harp of eulogy, 
 Blended with calumny's loud scrannel notes, 
 To pay their stinted commons. Could'st thou bear 
 To see thy child thus hated and cajol'd, 
 Unknown beyond the solitary bound 
 Of its own mansion, and, where known, despis'd; 
 Spending its treasures on cameleon's food, 
 Its time in pompous sloth ? Early dismiss 
 The fawning nursemaid, give the subtle groom 
 No ingress to young master ; nor allow 
 The steward's children to pay servile court, 
 To lose at marbles, carry out the dolls, 
 Drag the unwieldy coach, and play the jack 
 At every game, while thy young tyrants scorn 
 Participation ; by'prescriptive right 
 C5 
 
34 INFANCY. 
 
 Enthron'd supreme, empowVd to choose the sport, 
 And eat the feast they deign not to prepare. 
 
 Soon are the haughty habits of command, 
 And self-esteem, and scorn, acquir'd, which long 
 And painful discipline can scarce subdue. 
 But if of milder stamp, thy hopes aspire 
 To form the courtly finish'd gentleman 
 And bland accomplish'd dame, expert in all 
 That bears the stamp of fashion, in each grace, 
 That with insinuating sweetness steals 
 The flatter' d spirit, and from self-esteem 
 Commands the praise it gives — bound not thy views 
 To suavity, but to smooth manners join 
 A heart as gentle, steel'd by virtues firm ; 
 For gentleness and firmness may be bound 
 In one fair chapiet, like the bay and rose. 
 
 While the young plastic mind from thee receives 
 Its first impression, studiously imprint 
 
INFANCY. 35 
 
 The stamp of fortitude, and wisely raze 
 Fastidious niceness, feeling falsely nam'd ; 
 Lydian and British manners will not blend. 
 Thou dost not nurse some feeble Sybarite, 
 Pain'd by a crumpled rose-leaf, and annoy'd 
 To madness by a choir of nightingales 
 Ghaunting their loves to Cynthia. Other arts 
 Thy sons must learn than wanton serenade, 
 Or the trim curvets of the agile dance, 
 With all the soft voluptuousness that waits 
 On pamper'd appetite. No more on earth 
 Pteigns fair Astrea, nor has Gloriane 
 Sent forth her knights to rid th' oppressed world 
 Of giants, Saracens, and paynims proud ; 
 Treason, rape, murder, sacrilege, and spoil, 
 Ate's foul offspring, ravage now the plains 
 Of desolated Europe. Th' iron age 
 Calls for a heart like adamant, and nerves 
 Compact as steel ; courage alike prepar'd 
 To beard gaunt danger in the files of war, 
 

 S6 INFANCY, 
 
 Or bide the stings of sharp calamity 
 With unrepining sufferance. Generous zeal, 
 Mindless of self, yet burning to unchain 
 The captives of oppression, or to guard 
 Its menac'd country. Firm integrity, 
 A blunt unvarnish'd man, of antique guise, 
 Who by the threat'ning sword or proffer' d bribe 
 Alike unmov'd, holds on his steady course 
 In the plain path direct. War now assumes 
 A different character than when she call'd 
 The sons of Albion from unmenac'd homes 
 To high encounters ; when with mighty deeds 
 Of distant heroes her loud trumpet spoke 
 Proud invitations to the field of fame. 
 No Harry Monmouth now to Percy sends 
 His glove in gallant courtesy, a call 
 To great achievements and renown' d exploits, 
 The sport of youthful warriors. Now no more 
 The flower of chivalry, the Muse's pride, 
 Illustrious Surrey, rides from joust to joust, 
 
INFANC Y. 37 
 
 Waving the purfled scarf of Geraldine, 
 And calling other lovers to contend 
 With him in arts and arms. On Gallia's throne 
 No generous Francis sits, nor brave Navarre, 
 Who on the horrent brow of combat stamp'd 
 Honour and courtesy, and strict regard 
 To faith implied or plighted. These compell'd 
 Victory to drop her bloody mail, and stoop 
 To raise the vanquish' d. Glory was their aim, 
 Not mean revenge, the curse of baser minds, 
 Low-born, and giddy with prosperity, 
 More suited to acquire than just to use 
 Dominion absolute. O menac'd isle ! 
 Last refuge of integrity and worth, 
 To which religion, liberty, and peace 
 Have flown as to an ark, riding secure 
 Amid a world of waters ; must thou too 
 Sink in the deluge that hath overwhelm'd 
 Order and law, and from their base pluck'd up 
 Empires and states, the elder born of time, 
 
38 INFANCY. 
 
 Whelming the bright records of ancient fame, 
 Habits and hopes, in the oblivious Koto 
 Of power invincible. The traveller 
 Through Europe journeys, as along the wilds 
 Of Samoieda, or Canadian wastes, 
 And asks, what wandering tribe inhabits here ? 
 
 Reigns a Nassau in Belgium ? That brave race 
 Redeem' d from Spanish tyranny the soil 
 Of freedom and of commerce with their blood. 
 Does Florence, art's emporium, grateful still, 
 Prefer her Medici, who wreath'd her brow 
 With flowers of taste, as beauteous as the flowers 
 Which fringe her silver Arno ? Do the sons 
 Of great Sobieski, champion of the cross, 
 Grac'd with the regal honours they deserve, 
 Unite the Poles intractable, and rule 
 From Oder's bank to Nieper's rapid surge r 
 Still do Helvetia's pastoral vales and rocks, 
 High pil'd in bold sublimity, defend 
 
INFANCY. 39 
 
 The lov'd asylum dear to simple taste, 
 
 And virtuous independence ? Do those wilds 
 
 At solemn festivals still echoing name 
 
 The patriotic band, who in their breasts 
 
 Buried invading Austria's broken spear, 
 
 And dying triumph' d ? No: of past renown 
 
 Be silent, Europe ! Tremble now to praise 
 
 Thy former worthies, and instruct thy tongue 
 
 (Impatient to pronounce the bitter curse 
 
 Of agoniz'd despair) in the gross strain 
 
 Of eulogy, while numbering o'er thy scroll 
 
 Of upstart puppies and degraded kings, 
 
 Slaves like thyself. But look not to the north, 
 
 Where brave Gustavus on his native ice 
 
 The Swedish standard plants. Firm, bold, sublime, 
 
 As are his guardian mountains, he sustains 
 
 Dishonour'd Russia's pillage, and invokes 
 
 Justice, and truth, and courage to defend 
 
 Their own Dalecarlia. Freedom there shall reign, 
 
 Or there her champion die, rather than brook 
 
40 INFANCY. 
 
 Chains from the Corsican, altho' they sit 
 
 Like je weird collars on imperial slaves: 
 
 Speed, sovereign Lord of earth, his righteous war ! 
 
 Nor look, ye royal slaves (to look were death, 
 Or self reproach more bitter), where yon sails 
 Stretch o'er th' Atlantic. There Braganza's heir 
 Conducts the wreck of Lusitania's state 
 From shores he could not save, yet scorn'd to rule 
 A tributary vassal. He protects 
 His aged mother, and a helpless band 
 Of women and of infants, who with tears 
 Lament the world they leave, and, trembling, see 
 The new one they explore in verdant slopes, 
 Thick inter spers'd with foliage, rising slow 
 From the vast ocean, on whose boiling surge 
 They fear'd to launch. The pensive prince there goes, 
 As erst the pious Dardan* scap'd from Troy, 
 Bearing his dearest ties and household gods, 
 * jEneas. 
 
INFANCY. 41 
 
 To found an empire where marauding France 
 Shall never lead her hordes ; — to wear a crown 
 Of independence, such as kings should wear ; 
 And in Bahia's wide savannahs raise 
 A rreeborn race, who never shall deplore 
 Algarva's vines, or Coimbra's orange groves 
 To ravage yielded, while one stern decree 
 Blots from the earth wrong' d Lusitania's name, 
 Or chains her a blind captive to those states 
 Whose tyrant yoke she burst in happier times. 
 
 And must thou too, native Albion, become 
 Thus lost, thus nameless, in the vortex vast 
 Of universal rule ingulph'd, while all 
 Thy monuments of glory pass away 
 Like a poor maniac's dreams ; thy sons' renown, 
 The virtue of thy daughters ? The sad Muse 
 Bends on her harp, and, silent, bodes a change 
 Vast, dolorous, fatal to her lofty song. 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
ARG UMEXT. 
 
 Mothers are exhorted to infuse a patriotic spirit into their 
 sons, and to train their daughters in humility and benevo- 
 lence. They are warned against partiality to one child. 
 Indulged children are generally disastrous or wicked. A 
 forward girl contrasted with one who has been too much 
 subdued or neglected. A child of reason described. Reli- 
 gious instruction the best means of correcting the faults of 
 the human heart. Portrait of a poor woman instructing 
 her children. Address to mothers in affluence, to extend 
 their love and care for their children to their immortal part. 
 ' Beauty of early piety. A caution not to be too much elated 
 hy early proficiency, nor to esteem modesty dulness. Sa- 
 muel's mistake concerning which of the sons of Jesse God 
 had selected to rule Israel. David's piety and submission 
 to the divine will. Influence of religious principle in re- 
 calling a sinner. Mothers are exhorted to pray for their 
 children. The great change predicted by prophecy appears 
 to be commencing in the world. Mothers are exhorted not 
 to alarm their fancy by useless speculations, but so to edu- 
 cate their children, that whatever be the event they may 
 be safe under the divine protection. 
 
BOOK II. 
 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Wak'd from her trance of woe, the Muse again 
 Resumes her song. Ye British matrons ! rise 
 With equal firmness, yet with happier hopes 
 Than Carthaginian mothers, when they rent 
 Their glossy locks, and into bow-strings twin'd 
 The bright redundance, late their grace and pride 
 In days of freedom. These, with breasts unarm'd, 
 Amid the flight of missile spears and darts, 
 Tore their fair robes to staunch the bleeding wounds 
 Of husbands, sons, and fathers. Yet tho' He, 
 Whose love is safety, still around this isle 
 Encamps his host invincible, brigades 
 Of angels, who with shields of adamant 
 Repel the shafts of malice, rage, and pride- 
 
46 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Hurl'd by the enemy, upon whose head, 
 And on the heads of his blind worshippers, 
 The vial of destruction gradual pours 
 In retribution ; still, ye British dames, 
 Yours is an arduous task, to train your babes 
 So meetly, that the congregated sins 
 Of an offending people may not move 
 Our heavenly Friend in anger to withdraw 
 His aid, who best, who only, can preserve. 
 
 Say to your sons, " Be brave, be wise, be firm: 
 Scorn the low ends of party, and with pride 
 (For pride sometimes is virtue) spurn the bait 
 Of faction, tempting to a precipice 
 That beetles o'er the gulph of infamy. 
 Look to the common weal ; all weal in that 
 Must be absorb'd ; for in the nation's fall 
 Thy fair possessions, titles, honours, hopes, 
 Must sink. Thou wouldst not live to be the slave 
 Of France, to execute her foul decrees 
 
KELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 47 
 
 On thine own countrymen, the race of those 
 Who bled in battle for thine ancestors. 
 These tax their hard-earn' d modicum, till life 
 Complains of scant support, to build a fence 
 Around thy woods, thy villas, and thy farms. 
 Of old, in times less perilous, thy sires, 
 Girded in iron mail, disdain'd repose ; 
 While at the summons of their bugle-horn 
 The hardy peasantry and yeomen bold, 
 Bred on their own domains, alike impell'd 
 By courage and affection, eager rush'd 
 To the emblazon' d standard of their chief, 
 Content with him to triumph or to die. 
 Shall sloth or dissipation hold thee back 
 From their example ? Quit the crowded town, 
 Too young to guide the senate, or to wield 
 The vast machine of government ; disdain 
 To bend the venal instrument of power, 
 To sport a courtly summer fly, or, worse, 
 To vex the long debate with crude conceits : 
 
48 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Far other task thine age, thy rank, thy wealth, 
 Thy talents, and thy fame require. Go stand 
 On yon white cliffs in military pomp 
 Of preparation : back to th' invader hurl 
 Defiance. Or, if bolder views delight 
 Thy ardent spirit — sink not, doting heart, 
 With this embrace I yield thee — go and lead 
 From Britain's shores her armies formidable, 
 Bearing not menace vain, but potent war." 
 
 Then to your weeping daughters turn, and say, 
 " This is no time for sloth. Prepare the scarf, 
 Pride of the chieftain ; weave the warm attire 
 For the brave soldier, who unshrouded lies 
 On the damp earth, and steals a short repose 
 From weariness extreme, amid the din 
 Of danger, or the smart of wounds. Assist 
 His teeming wife, left lonely to endure 
 Sorrow, and want, and misery. Instruct 
 His children; train them to be soldiers too, 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 49 
 
 Soldiers of God and Britain. At the shrine 
 
 Of public virtue offer up the gaudes 
 
 Of vain expense ; nor breathe one guilty sigh 
 
 For pleasures circumscrib'd, delights withheld, 
 
 And wishes incompatible with claims 
 
 Of paramount import. Learn also (ere 
 
 Compell'd by changeful fortune to display 
 
 The virtues of an humbler state) the arts 
 
 Of useful duty, and of frugal care ; 
 
 And still, with gentle courtesy, require 
 
 The state and service affluence receives 
 
 From those her equals in a future world ; 
 
 Perchance in this — for mutability 
 
 Ever on earth triumphant, now more loud, 
 
 Calls on the idle, frivolous, and vain, 
 
 To mark the revolutions of her wheel, 
 
 Which topples down hereditary rank, 
 
 And raises base-born meanness to the clouds." 
 
 Nor yet content with precept, patient form, 
 
50 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, 
 
 By firm example and restrictions wise, 
 
 Early begun and patiently pursu'd, 
 
 What these stern times require, an upright mind : 
 
 First school thyself, nip in thy heart the germ 
 
 Of preference ; 'twill cover all the soil, 
 
 Prolific as the Indian fig, whose shade 
 
 Conceals a caravan. Nor quicker shoots 
 
 The tall banana, when the torrent rains 
 
 Have drench'd some tropic-region, parch'd and bare, 
 
 Tho' with redundant vegetable powers 
 
 Indu'd, than in the mother's doting heart 
 
 Springs the foul creeper, rank partiality ; 
 
 Foul, when impregnating the noxious blasts 
 
 Of envy, on a neighbouring plant it sheds 
 
 Mildew and gnawing canker; but most foul, 
 
 When, with inebriating fumes, it clouds 
 
 Maternal justice, robing in the guise 
 
 Of supernatural worth one idol child, 
 
 Or from some weeping innocent purloins 
 
 Its dower of equal love. Rise, prescient Muse ! 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 51 
 
 Ilend time's dark mantle, and to folly shew 
 Years of reproach, of sorrow, and of shame, 
 Fulfilling slow their melancholy round, 
 And scourging her with scorpions. Shew the god 
 Of her fond dotage, writh'd by torturing pain 
 Owning its mortal lineage, while it sinks 
 To an untimely grave, and there inhumes 
 Her peace, her hope, Or, shew it as distain'd 
 By stubborn guilt, glorying in infamy, 
 Nursing the poisonous asp ingratitude 
 To sting a mother's heart. Such bitter fruits 
 Spring from indulgence ; bodies rack'd with pain 
 By early gluttony, by numbing sloth 
 Contracted into joyless lassitude ; 
 Or to thy vigils, Dissipation, forc'd 
 An infant-worshipper, at thy gay shrine 
 Inhaling atrophy, or phthisis pale, 
 Mortal as the feign' d upas, and more vast 
 Their desolation, which no skilful son 
 Of Peon can arrest, no healing plant 
 
52 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Med'cine, no charm subdue: death to the joys 
 Of many a parent, many a lover ; death 
 To the fair blossom of expanding worth. 
 
 Or, grant the vigorous well-knit frame resists 
 These strong assailments, dread that fiercer ill, 
 An uncorrected mind; passions indulged 
 To mad extravagance; manners untrain'd 
 To courtesy or tenderness ; contempt 
 Of others; love of self; obstinate pride. 
 Wedded to swart and purblind ignorance, 
 A wayward witch, who throws her random shafts 
 At virtue and at knowledge. Such thy boy : 
 Thy girl a forward vixen, pertly trained 
 To pout or ogle, or, with mimic state 
 To glide around the room a lady Bell 
 In birth-day pomp, complaining that she fears 
 Her beauty is too killing. Does she sing 
 To please the captain ? Does the moppet tell 
 She danc'd with a young lord, and won his heart? 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 53 
 
 Gives she prompt answers ? Does sbe never run 
 
 To hide her blushes in her mother's arms, 
 
 Oppressed by observation or by praise ? 
 
 And shall this babe-coquette at the dessert 
 
 Preside sole orator, affront each guest, 
 
 Banish improving converse, carve the ice, 
 
 Engross the sweetmeats, and, with copious draughts, 
 
 Quaff flattery's deleterious cup ? i\way ! 
 
 Give me the rod and scourge the brat to school. 
 
 But from yon lonely corner lead to view 
 That poor, neglected girl, esteem'd a dolt. 
 Mamma indeed objects, " 'Tis awkward, plain, 
 Inelegant, ill dress'd." Shame on her pride, 
 Who by the idle vanities of dress 
 Denotes contempt, or kindles self regard. 
 Bring me this slighted child. She trembles, weeps, 
 Shrinks from my proffer'd hand, looks round alarm'd, 
 Steals on my face one timid glance, and smiles 
 To see a friendly aspect. Half assur'd, 
 
54 HELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 She speaks, then pauses. She has much to tell; 
 But fears lest her untutor'd tongue should drop 
 Some coarse expression, or that nurse will chide 
 If troublesome. See, by my side all day 
 Patient she stands, while gentle offices 
 Speak her strong sense of kindness. Mother, turn ! 
 Regard this blameless claimant ; though her eye 
 Beam not the lustrous ray of beauty, see 
 Intelligence and gratitude. Her mien 
 Is homely, but thy forming hand may give 
 Polish'd deportment; or if stubborn joints 
 Frustrate thy plastic skill, through this harsh mould 
 Th' unfading charms of a celestial mind 
 May dart unenvied beauty. On this arm, 
 Brown and misshapen, may'st thou lean ; this breast 
 May hide thy tears and blushes, when the shame 
 Of that fair wanton, taught by thee to run 
 The maze of folly, ends in guilt her course 
 Begun in vanity, and bids thee beg 
 For death, in bitterness of self reproach ; 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 55 
 
 While this kind nurse, by ministrations wise, 
 And sweet endearments, piously withstands 
 Thy prayer, and on thy thorny pillow sheds 
 The healing opiate of consoling love. 
 
 But who comes now, with philosophic air, 
 Sententious, ripe in judgment, tho' in size 
 A pigmy. 'Tis a tiny S6crates, 
 Now caird a child of reason. It will run, 
 If you will tell it the inherent laws 
 Of motion. It will say its task, but first 
 Convince it language is the privilege 
 Of man. Tis nVd and mute, if you attempt 
 Cogent authority ; for well it knows 
 Its high prerogatives, equal and free. 
 And it can prate of rights, bid you assign 
 Your motives of decision, school your faults, 
 And argue you to silence. Gracious Heaven! 
 Transport me o'er the mountains of the moon, 
 Where Afric breeds her monsters; bid me cast 
 
56 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 In Norway's seas my anchor, on the back 
 
 Of some vast kraken slumbering ; let me hear, 
 
 Mid Portobello's putrid swamps, the hiss 
 
 Of serpents vast, whose pois'nous volumes roll 
 
 O'er many a rood*, rather than chain me down 
 
 To this portent, this fearful augury 
 
 Of unexampled times — when, early train'd 
 
 To disputation, to confess no law 
 
 But its own choice, no light except the beam 
 
 Of reason, dim in all, in some extinct, 
 
 And where most bright, dubious and changeable, 
 
 The educated sceptic comes prepar'd 
 
 To wage Typhcean war with heaven ; nor asks 
 
 His unrepented sins and furious lusts 
 
 To goad him on, bewilder'd, to the guiph 
 
 Of infidel despair. These are not times 
 
 Of pagan ignorance : we halt not now 
 
 Between the koran and the cross, nor seek, 
 
 By metaphysic's darkling guidance, Him 
 
 * " Lay floatiDg many a rood.'WMilton. 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 57 
 
 Whom clearly shewn we worship, and confess, 
 By dedication and external forms, 
 To be our sovereign. Rebels we may be, 
 Or subjects liege ; not aliens, free to choose 
 Roman or Spartan statutes, or to stand 
 In the Lyceum, or the porch, or seek, 
 From Zoroaster or Confucius sage, 
 A God of fire, or moral institutes. 
 
 Mothers, attend ! a hand diviue hath bless'd 
 Your infants, and a heavenly voice proclaimed 
 Them meet for full beatitude. But say, 
 Did Jewish matrons to Messiah bring 
 Young reasoning scribes, in argument acute, 
 Who cavuTd with their Saviour, nor receiv'd 
 His benediction, till they knew what good 
 Extended hands convey ; or docile babes, 
 Humble and gentle, with affections warm, 
 Prompt to ingenuous faith and guileless trust ? 
 Such is the sweet simplicity that marks 
 D5 
 
58 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 The faithful christian ; such the character 
 On which, as on a bank of violets, 
 The soul reposes, weary and displeased 
 With long pursuit of earth-born vanities. 
 
 Wouldst thou chain passion, wouldst thou vanquish 
 Subdue injustice, and destroy the germs [pride. 
 
 Of falsehood, selfishness, and foul revenge ? 
 Dost thou demand what culture best aspires 
 To meliorate the heart where evil springs 
 Redundant, virtue slowly r Go and learn 
 At the poor woodman's hut ; thy chariot wheel- 
 Oft pass it, and the ragged boys rush out 
 To open wide the forest gate, and catch 
 Thy smiles or casual largess. There at eve 
 Behold the thrifty matron summon round 
 Her frugal hearth a numerous brood, that glow- 
 Ruddy with toil, or healthful exercise ; 
 And while she plies her ceaseless needle, school 
 Her li>ping pupils, and to each imparts 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 59 
 
 Her little knowledge. Tho' the ray which gilds 
 
 Her mind is feeble, 'tis a spark deriv'd 
 
 From light divine, and will direct to heaven 
 
 The humble and the pious. Near her lies 
 
 The awe-inspiring rod, and at the fire 
 
 An apple or a chesnut, to reward 
 
 The docile scholar. One by one they name 
 
 The Father of mankind, and him whose days, 
 
 Prolong' d through ten centenaries, appear' d 
 
 Coeval with the sun ; who walk'd with God, 
 
 And died not; who was strongest; and thy praise, 
 
 Patient Arabian sufferer! who abod'st 
 
 Beyond th' engraven rocks*, and didst foresee 
 
 A future resurrection, tho' the worms 
 
 * " In Arabia, near where Job was supposed to dwell, there are 
 , rocks extending for a large space, inscribed with characters too 
 old to be recognized as belonging to any known language. 
 Some supposed they were engraved by the Israelites during 
 their abode in the wilderness; others, with more probability, 
 that they were sepulchral memorials of the earliest ages. To 
 these Job is thought to allude in the exclamation which ushers 
 
60 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Prey'd on thy flesh. Who built God's house they tell, 
 
 And of the shepherd-boy, who (heaven-sustain'd) 
 
 Vanquish'd Philistia's champion. Next they name 
 
 The Saviour of mankind ; each duteous head 
 
 Bows in observance, and a softer tone 
 
 And look chastis'd, proclaim a secret awe, 
 
 Parent of piety ! His heavenly deeds 
 
 They number o'er, astonish'd that he lay 
 
 A babe in Bethlem's stable, and perplexed 
 
 The Jewish doctors. Lastly, they recite 
 
 The decalogue, the christian creed, the prayer 
 
 All perfect, by our great Exemplar taught 
 
 For everlasting use. The mother notes 
 
 Their apt proficiency ; perchance laments 
 
 She can instruct no further, nor reward 
 
 Talents so brilliant with an ampler boon. 
 
 in his sublime profession of faith in the resurrection, 19th chapter, 
 24th verse." For a fuller account, see Hanner's Observations, 
 vol. ii. p. 142. where they are called the written rocks or 
 
 mountains. 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 6l 
 
 And shall thy daughters, Luxury ! who bend 
 Beneath the cumbrous load of useless hours, 
 And sicken for new pleasures, still deny 
 Their frigid hearts a transport dearer far 
 Than vanity e'er gave, a joy that breathes 
 The healing gales of paradise ? Ah ! think 
 Of your intrusted talents, number' d all 
 In the great book of count ; ease, leisure, wealth, 
 Knowledge, persuasive powers, and every art 
 To aid instruction. Are your children fenc'd, 
 Like Abyssinia's princes, from the world, 
 Guarded and watch 'd, lest the defiling taint 
 Of vulgar manners should corrode and soil 
 The gloss of suavity, the bending grace 
 Of all-alluring courtly elegance ? 
 Are they, like infant-Moses, early taught 
 Egyptian knowledge, train'd and disciplin'd 
 In learning, taste, accomplishments, and arts ? 
 And shall yon homely boy, uncouth and rude, 
 Be wiser to salvation ? Wherefore, say, 
 
62 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Are ye exempt from anxious daily care 
 
 How best with scanty food to satisfy 
 
 Hunger importunate, save to afford 
 
 Your disencumbered spirits time and space 
 
 To soar into futurity, and learn 
 
 The language of immortals? Were your hands 
 
 Reliev'd from labour to hang listless down, 
 
 To toss the fluttering shuttlecock of sport, 
 
 Or weave the tinsel web of vanity ? 
 
 No : let those hands the book of life sustain, 
 
 Or in the deep humility of prayer 
 
 Be rais'd adoring. Chiefly ye who bear 
 
 A mother's sacred name, say, do ye love 
 
 The rosy cherubs, who at eve and morn 
 
 Meet you with blandishments ? Those falling tears 
 
 Proclaim your dotage. Do ye. wish them blest ? 
 
 The silent language of that fervent sigh 
 
 Tells that your own content were cheaply sold 
 
 To purchase their felicity. Hear, then, 
 
 The faithful Muse, who calls you to insure 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 63 
 
 Not dubious, mix'd, uncertain, human bliss, 
 But bliss eternal, pure, and infinite. 
 
 Say, when the joyous nursery resounds 
 With shouts of infantine delight, the meed 
 Of happy sport, or the dry shaven lawn 
 Receives th' enfranchis'd troop, prepar'd to join 
 In blind-man's-buff, cricket, or hunt the hare ; 
 When your hearts flutter till your cheeks are wet 
 With swelling rapture, do you only mark 
 The fair expansion of the agile limbs, 
 Bounding o'er fence and hillock, eyes that laugh 
 Through their fring'd curtains, rosy cheeks o'erhung 
 With auburn ringlets, tossing in the gale, 
 Or glittering in the sun ? Admire ye not 
 The latent soul, which animates and guides 
 These graceful movements ? Deathless is that soul. 
 Mortal its clay-built mansion, tho' thus fair : 
 And shall your sordid aims be all confin'd 
 To mould, and deck a feast for reptile worms, 
 
64 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Unmindful of th' angelic habitant 
 Intrusted to your nurture ? Nor has God 
 Ann'd you with power to send the stranger home, 
 A guest unwelcome : here it must abide, 
 And from this middle world convey to heaven 
 Its earthly partner, or with that descend, 
 Buried in deep Tartarean gulphs of wo, 
 Beyond the terminating reign of time, 
 Beyond the reach of hope's all-cheering ray. 
 
 Shrink your recoiling hearts r The warning Muse 
 Is not a weird hag, nor sybil false, 
 Conjuring unreal phantasms, or dispos'cl 
 To traffic in portents and feigned woes, 
 To scare the awe-struck rabble, or to please 
 Sick fancy, longing for a goblin tale. 
 Avaunt, unmeaning apprehensions ! truth, 
 Awful and venerable, seeks to save 
 The mother's breast from pangs destind to last 
 Through the long ages of eternity. 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 65 
 
 Fain would she animate the blessed zeal 
 Of wise instruction, wisest when applied 
 To high immortal purposes, the meed 
 Of spirits heaven-deriv'd, and thither bound, 
 
 Begin then early. Bend the flexile knee, 
 Ere stiff resistance bids the sinew scorn 
 The gesture of obeisance. Stretch the hands 
 Heav'n-ward, while yet, submissive to your voice, 
 They rise not in defiance. Teach the tongue 
 The chaunt of angels, ere it grows expert 
 In the rebellious jargons first diffus'd 
 By Babel's disappointed labourers. 
 " Habit," the atheist cries, " is all/' Tis well : 
 Bind then this potent habit to the yoke 
 Of true religion ; bid it draw the car 
 Of earthly and immortal happiness ; 
 Teach infant recollection to unite 
 With its first dawn the knowledge of its God, 
 While all before lies formless, dark, and void. 
 
66 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 But chiefly, while the imitative powers 
 Float o'er the ductile frame, yourself preside 
 The priestess of your congregated babes, 
 Aud pure exemplar. Teach them from your look, 
 To learn devotion, from your precepts, truth, 
 And from \our life, religion. Shall the beast 
 Instruct its young how seemliest to fulfil 
 its brutal functions? Shall the bird direct 
 Her newly-feather'd offspring to expand 
 Their wings* and soar into the azure vault, 
 Their humbler heav'n? And shall the nobler race 
 Of man, creation's sovereign, uninform'd 
 Of their high calling, waste the morn of life, 
 Unconscious whence they sprang, or whither tend? 
 
 How sweetly looks the cherub Innocence, 
 Led by the seraph Piety to tread 
 The earthly courts of God. How sweetly sounds 
 Its duicet voice, breath 'd in the low response, 
 Or louder rising in the full-ton'd sound 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 6? 
 
 Of choral hallelujahs, or the stave 
 
 Solemn and plaintive, such as best beseems 
 
 Frail mortals communing with God. Observe, 
 
 The church is mute, while, circling in the nave, 
 
 Fair girls and rosy boys assorted stand, 
 
 To speak the faith, the duty, and the hope, 
 
 Which designate the christian. Pride and joy 
 
 Flush in the cheeks of these; erect they stand, 
 
 Glance round th' observanteye, and with prompt speech 
 
 Anticipate inquiry. Meekly those, 
 
 With downcast look, and awe-depressed voice, 
 
 Twirling their cap or bonnet in their hand, 
 
 Haste through the well-known lesson, glad to pay 
 
 The closing ceremonial, and retire ; 
 
 Of honour unambitious, yet content 
 
 They were not counted with the stupid dolt, 
 
 Who blundered at each sentence, lost to all, 
 
 Ev'n to the sense of public ignominy. 
 
 Nor let the mother, who has wisely school'd 
 
68 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Her youthful catechumens, share the blush 
 
 Of timid modesty, unapt to shew 
 
 Its own proficiency. Amid the flowers 
 
 That purfle spring's green vest, are aught so praisVI 
 
 As those which pensile fill their honied bells, 
 
 And shun observance. Such the violet, 
 
 Whose perfume never dies, the snowdrop chaste, 
 
 Patient of wintry storms, and cowslips pied, 
 
 Whose sweet infusion forms the beverage pure 
 
 Of village girls on May-day's festival, 
 
 Adorning their trim garlands. Close iminur'd 
 
 By a rough battlement of turgid leaves, 
 
 Th' anana ripens her nectareous fruit 
 
 Unparallel'd. Opaque and disesteem'd, 
 
 Because unknown, the diamond in the mine 
 
 Lies perfecting for ages, to acquire 
 
 A splendor that will beggar rival states, 
 
 Contending for the gem. Mothers, revere 
 
 These warning calls of nature ; nor confound 
 
 The slow develop ement of timid worth 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 6® 
 
 With weak stupidity, or the cold heart 
 Of wilful, proud, determined ignorance. 
 Have ye not read, or, reading, ne'er rernark'd 
 The doubts of Samuel, when from Ramah far 
 As Bethlehem he journey'd, to anoint 
 A son of Jesse king*. Stately and tall, 
 He mark'd Eliab, and exclaim'd, " In him 
 Behold the chosen of the Lord/' " Not so," 
 The well-known voice of inspiration cried, 
 " God seeth not like man ; he views the heart, 
 Not the mere grandeur of the outward form." 
 Restrain'd the prophet bow'd his head, nor felt 
 The sacred impulse, tho' seven brethren came 
 To join in sacrifice. " Hast thou no more ?" 
 He ask'd th' unconscious sire. " A child, my lord, 
 My youngest, a mere stripling, with my sheep/' 
 u Go, fetch the lad, and be the feast delay 'd 
 Which claims his presence." David soon appear'd, 
 Ruddy with youth, and clad in shepherd -garb, 
 * 1st Samuel, 16th chapter. 
 
70 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Yet victor of a lion and a bear 
 That flew upon his father's flock, altho' 
 Th' unboasted conquest was to all unknown. 
 Fair was his person, but more lovely far 
 His spotless soul, illumin'd with the charms 
 Of heav'nly beauty. The adoring seer 
 Perceiv'd the call divine. In copious streams 
 He pour'd th' anointing oil -, largely it flowd 
 On the rapt youth's brown tresses, pallid cheek, 
 (Chill'd by supernal awe) and throbbing breast ; 
 In which henceforth the spirit of his God 
 Became an inmate ; tho' again he turn'd 
 To pastoral duties, and resign'd to Him, 
 Who will'd to him a crown, the destined means 
 To seat him guiltless on his promis'd throne. 
 Nor did he quit his sheep-cots till the cries 
 Of suffering Israel, and Philistia's threats, 
 Urg'd his heroic spirit to defy 
 The giant infidel, and with one blow 
 Assert his country's honour, and his God's* 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 71 
 
 Ask ye for what among the sons of men 
 Was the sweet psalmist signaliz'd ? His life, 
 Shaded by many a lapse, too plainly shews 
 The instability of erring man. 
 'Twas by the radiance of unclouded faith, 
 And fervour of devotion ; champions these, 
 Who best can liberate the imprison' d soul 
 From tyrant-appetite, and lead it back 
 Through the still walks of penitence to peace. 
 These were his early, constant, best allies, 
 Th' associates of his forest-cares, the friends 
 Who gave him strength to fell the savage beasts, 
 And him of Gath, chief of th' uncircumcis'd. 
 These bore his warbled praises up to heaven, 
 From camps, and courts, and desart solitudes ; 
 These also gave him firmness to subdue 
 Revenge, worst foe of virtue, when he spar'd 
 His royal persecutor*, as he lay 
 
 * 1st Samuel, 26th chapter, 9th verse. 
 
72 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Sleeping unguarded, yet in turbid dreams, 
 Projecting death to him who o'er him stood 
 To guard a life, the terror of his own. 
 
 Is there a scene of danger or of guilt, 
 Danger past hope, guilt irremediable, 
 Through which religion's bright effulgence casts 
 No guiding ray benign ? Is there a pang 
 She cannot heal, a wo to which her voice 
 In dove-like murmurs does not whisper hope ? 
 Gilt by her beams, the sister virtues look 
 More beauteous ; love and pity, then refiVd 
 From earthly dross, assume the sacred form 
 Of charity, all perfect and all pure. 
 Sublim'd by her, valour transports its name 
 To christian fortitude, patient to feel, 
 And mighty to perform. Her power can change 
 The sordid wisdom of the subtle snake 
 To foresight, caution, and discernment sage ; 
 Th' intelligence of angels, ministers 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 73 
 
 Of judgment or of mercy, as best suits 
 
 His mandates whom they serve, the holy God. 
 
 Has faith this power— and shall the mother fail 
 Early to light its lamp, and give the charge 
 To her young pilgrims, ere they venture forth 
 In life's vast wilderness, where hungry wolves, 
 Hyenas pitiless, and adders haunt ; 
 Where sirens, more delusive far than they 
 Whom chain' d Ulysses struggled to adore, 
 Chaunt their sweet strains, devour their worshippers. 
 And charm new victims ! By the lamp of faith, 
 Justly descried, the painted harlots change 
 Their meretricious beauties to the loath' d 
 And bloated form of sin, while their sweet songs 
 End in the mournful bowlings of despair. 
 
 Ye who, just venturing on a world untried, 
 Suspect no danger, guard with vestal zeal 
 This heav'n-born beam, which, like the pillar'd fire, 
 £ 
 
74 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Shall lead you from Egyptian servitude 
 
 To a celestial Canaan. Fence it round 
 
 From the sly blast of biting ridicule, 
 
 Which withers unawares. Nor stint its dole 
 
 Of daily oil, lest its bright rays should pale 
 
 Before the gorgeous Baal of mankind : 
 
 So, when your dimm'd eyes shall no more behold 
 
 The blaze of earthly splendour, visions far 
 
 More glorious shall appear ; the world unseen 
 
 Shall give you all its pure realities, 
 
 On which your souls have ponder'd, while beheld, 
 
 As in a mirror, darkling and obscure. 
 
 And ye who, conversant in life, well know 
 Its shelves, its rocks, and quicksands; mothers, join 
 To prudent precept and example chaste, 
 O join the potent energy of prayer 
 For grace divine, best guard of feeble man, 
 Best foil of wily Satan. He, dismay'd, 
 Flies from the hand in holy warfare rais'd, 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 75 
 
 As Amalek from Amram's suppliant son *, 
 
 Love ye your children ? I again inquire: 
 
 Kneel in your closets, kneel, and crave of heaven 
 
 That blessing they will ask you to impart. 
 
 So shall they feel it not an empty form, 
 
 But powerful benediction, like the dew 
 
 From Hermon, shedding on the thirsty vale 
 
 Fertility and beauty. Prayer lias power 
 
 To pierce the empyrean, if preferred 
 
 For treasures spiritual. Fear not, press on ; 
 
 Importunate, ask fresh supplies of faith, 
 
 Humility and patience, peace and love ; 
 
 Till the young Christian, kneeling at your side, 
 
 Partakes your ardours, and discerns the power 
 
 Of truths by memory graven on the soul, 
 
 Ere rip'ned judgment knew they were divine. 
 
 Nor will your solitary worship long 
 Lack such communion sweet. Affection soon 
 
 * Exodus, 17th chapter, 11th verse. 
 
76 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Ripens to pious feeling. Christian lore 
 
 Proffers meet sustenance to all ; for babes 
 
 The rudiments of knowledge are prepar'd, 
 
 Far easier of digestion than that fruit 
 
 Of knowledge now permitted to mankind, 
 
 Tho' once in Eden from our sire withheld 
 
 By special interdiction, while the tree 
 
 Of life sustained him ; till, by flaming swords 
 
 Of cherubs, exiFd and sent forth to till 
 
 A wilderness of briers and thorns, he sought 
 
 Knowledge so late his curse, and from it gain'd 
 
 The means of scant subsistence. Thus his race 
 
 Must labour, and with anxious search explore 
 
 The leafy tree of bitter fruit, till time 
 
 Ripens the vast designs of Providence, 
 
 And sheaths the cherub's sword. Then shall arise 
 
 A paradise more lovely than that fam'd 
 
 Mesopotamian garden, fertiliz'd 
 
 By deep Euphrates ; its extended pale 
 
 Shall circumscribe the earth, a sanctuary 
 
 For truth, and love, and pious gratitude. 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 77 
 
 But ere this promis'd purity ; ere yet 
 The desert blossoms, and the thirsty sand 
 Bubbles with cooling fountains ; ere the kid 
 Sports dandled by the lion • ere the snake 
 Innoxious round the playful infant twines ; 
 Ere enmity shall cease, and war lie bound 
 In endless durance ; — shall arise a storm 
 Loud, unremitting, vast, from pole to pole 
 Extending, plucking empires from the roots, 
 And shaking earth's foundations, till it reels 
 Like a vex'd drunkard, staggering with its load 
 Of violence and guilt. Ere yet condemn'd 
 To everlasting silence, war shall blow 
 His trumpet louder than the roar when Greece 
 Compass'd the Trojan wall, or Xerxes arm'd 
 His myriads, or the Macedonian goat 
 Beat down the Persian ram*, and vanquished 
 From Thessaly to Indus. Not so vast 
 The Cimbrian or the Scythian hordes, nor those 
 * Daniel, chapter 8th, verse 7th. 
 
/b RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Which Zenghis or which Tamerlane led forth 
 
 From Samarcand o'er Caucasus, to spoil 
 
 The peaceful sons of industry and wealth, 
 
 As the innumerous multitude whom this 
 
 Dire clarion shall embattle. Nor did man 
 
 Groan 'neath such woes extreme when Attila 
 
 Gave wasted Europe to his spoiling Huns; 
 
 Or Afric, blasted by the Vandal scourge, 
 
 Chang'd her large cities, and her fertile fields 
 
 For barren, silent, mournful solitudes*, 
 
 As shall ensue when the fierce infidel, 
 
 Predicted long, long sought, by most believ'd 
 
 Now fast unfolding, shall erect on high 
 
 His standard, and from all the winds of heaven 
 
 Summon the congregated foes of God 
 
 To war against his earthly residence, 
 
 His chosen church : that ark, toss'd by the storms. 
 
 * For a brief but impressive account of the consequences of 
 these inroad?, the reader is referred to Dr. Robertson's Intro- 
 duction to the History of Charles V. 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 79 
 
 And vex'd by inward discord, yet ordain' d 
 
 Still to contend and suffer, till the time 
 
 Of victory, when Armageddon's fight 
 
 Shall gather in the vintage of the world, 
 
 And empt the final vial, pour'd in wrath 
 
 On much offending man. Then from that fields 
 
 Wide as thy limits, Palestine, and drench'd 
 
 Knee-deep in gore, shall rise the mingled screams 
 
 Of vultures tearing royal prey, the groans 
 
 Of nVd despair, the wild outrageous yells 
 
 Of dying blasphemy, mingled with shouts 
 
 Of triumph, till angelic lauds compose 
 
 The tumult, hymning, as in Bethlehem's field, 
 
 Peace and good-will to man ; th' infernal host 
 
 In full array defeated, and condemn'd 
 
 To their dark mansions, there to mourn in chains 
 
 A thousand years. Henceforth, O God ! thy will 
 
 Be done on earth, as evermore in heav'n. 
 
 These days will surely come ; the fearful when 
 Eludes short-sighted man. Whether the babe, 
 
80 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Who in mute wonder eyes thee while thy soul 
 Anticipates these horrors, and compares 
 The sacred volume with the passing scene, 
 Startled at each similitude, amaz'd 
 At each fulfilment, and with shuddering awe 
 Expecting new events, prelusive all, 
 And ushering in the closing scenes of time, — 
 Whether thy darling child " with multitudes* 
 Shall in the valley of decision stand" 
 Seal'd by his God, or warring with the hosts 
 Doom'd to confusion, spoil, or massacre, 
 Ask not of erring man. One care be thine, 
 To bring tby treasure early to the ark ; 
 'Tis only safe beneath the care of Him 
 Who, in the present evermore beholds 
 The future, and the past. His providence 
 Regards his meanest creatures^ while his word 
 Measures the date of worlds. Whether this clay 
 Shall wake from death re-edified, or chang'd 
 As erst the patriarch and the prophet, rise 
 * Joel, 3d chapter, 14th verse* 
 
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 81 
 
 To meet the Lord in air, Him it must meet 
 Thrice blest, if as a servant, not a foe. 
 
 Sure are the daily visitings of light ; 
 Sure is the course of planetary worlds ; 
 Sure is the stroke of death ; but surer far 
 Thy word, O Prophecy ! The time shall come 
 When the quench'd sun in chaos shall dissolve, 
 The planetary worlds start from their spheres, 
 And death resign his sceptre, swallowed up 
 In victory ; but thy resplendent light 
 Shall then shine brighter, emanation pure 
 Of light essential, uncreate, divine ! 
 
 B5 
 
EDUCATION. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The mother's duty changes as her children advance in years. 
 The boys must be placed under the superintendence of 
 their own sex, as the fittest way of acquiring manliness of 
 character. Wholesome effect of the discipline of public 
 schools on nursery-tyrants. Story of Cyrus and his school- 
 fellows. The intrusion of vice into public seminaries not a 
 sufficient reason against sendi ng boys out. Domestic educa- 
 tion often forms timid, self-important, or sensual characters. 
 The moral principles of boys may be secured by early reli- 
 gious instruction, and good examples at home. Domestic 
 education is preferable for daughters. Unfortunate predi- 
 lection of the inferior classes for showy, superficial instruc- 
 tion. The cottager's daughter described. The yeoman's 
 anxiety for appropriate instruction. Portrait of a liberally 
 educated, elegant family, who, by their example, refine their 
 inferiors. Accomplishments are too eagerly pursued by 
 the higher classes. Examples of superior cultivation in 
 Lady Jane Grey, Lady Mary Sidney, and the second Sueen 
 Mary. True and false courtesy. Strict attention is ne- 
 cessary from the mother till her eldest daughter supplies 
 her place. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 Say, in this world of mutability 
 
 Where shall we rest secure, or pitch our tent 
 
 Beyond the painful visitings of change ? 
 
 Has Duty too turn'd recreant ? Did he fix 
 
 The careful mother in the narrow walk 
 
 Of her own family, and bid her eye 
 
 Direct the little commonwealth, till use 
 
 Render'd confinement pleasure, and the prate 
 
 Of gay simplicity and wonder bland, 
 
 Than deep discussion or colloquial wit 
 
 More grateful. Tyrant ! dost thou now enjoin 
 
 Those tender arms with lax embrace to yield 
 
 Their dear delights to strangers ? Must those eyes ? 
 
 Fix'd long with rapture on the winning forms 
 
 Of opening beauty and expanding grace, 
 
86 EDUCATION. 
 
 Seek other objects, by disuse become 
 Distasteful ? or else bid them in despair 
 Close on the dull vacuity of life, 
 Its occupation ended. Yet, again, 
 Learn from th' aerial tenantry. Behold, 
 The swallow tends with diligence her young, 
 Till their fledg'd pinions gather strength to skim 
 Th' elastic air, and shame dependent sloth; 
 Bidding their vigorous owners seek the pool, 
 That colony of gay ephemeras 
 Sporting in sunshine, or with level sweep 
 Entrap the gadfly, lest autumnal storms 
 Surprise them unprepar'd, to speed their long 
 And painful voyage o'er th' Atlantic surge 
 For many a night and day, till gain'cl at last 
 " The isles call'd Fortunate," where summer reigns 
 Endless., and all is life, and all is joy. 
 
 So must the mother to the discipline 
 Of stern coercion and collision yield 
 
EDUCATION. 87 
 
 The pilgrims of this world, adventurers bound 
 
 To isles not fabled, nor of dubious search . 
 
 Hast thou by wise restrictions, nicely join'd 
 
 With tender care, knit into useful grace 
 
 The noble form of man ? Hast thou subclu'd 
 
 The too redundant, pertinacious growth 
 
 Of daring, stedfast fortitude, and check 'd 
 
 Keen emulation, ere it touched the verge 
 
 Of morbid envy ? Hast thou deeply school'd 
 
 Thy pupil in the code of truth, ere pride 
 
 Made him indocile, or a pagan creed 
 
 Charm'd his rapt fancy with chimeras sweet, 
 
 Dear even to age, to visionary youth 
 
 Most dear, in witching harmony convey'd, 
 
 And grac'd by learning with distinctions high 
 
 And honourable praise ? Hast thou done this, 
 
 Handmaid of God ? Well hast thou done : now yield 
 
 Thy agile, virtuous, well- instructed boy 
 
 To those who know life's subtle maze, untried 
 
 By the safe ignorance which bounds thy walk 
 
$8 EDUCATION. 
 
 To the domestic pale. The future heir 
 
 Of thy manorial honours, and the youth 
 
 Destin'd to carve his fortunes, must o'erleap 
 
 That bound, and with his fellow-citizens 
 
 Contend in conflict skilful, but not base, 
 
 Arduous, not vicious. On a bolder scale 
 
 Than female softness can project, with nerves 
 
 Brac'd tighter than maternal tenderness 
 
 Can strain, must man be form'd, intrepid man, 
 
 Lord of this lower world, pilot of state, 
 
 Rough mariner, pilgrim of every soil, 
 
 Oft shipwreck'd, oft benetted round with foes, 
 
 Destin'd to hardy toil, and stern rebuffs, 
 
 But never to despair. Ev'n now thou spurn' st 
 
 The puling marmoset, who shrinks from pain, 
 
 And bids his sisters save him from the wasp 
 
 That buzzes round his sugar'd cates, yet tears 
 
 Their dolls in vengeance. Thus in early life 
 
 Look tyranny and cowardice, anon 
 
 To scowl in forms more hateful. Would'st thou cleanse 
 
EDUCATION. S9 
 
 The soil of these curs'd weeds ? Alas ! thy tilth 
 Will only skim the surface, while his nurse 
 Whispers young master that the day will come 
 He need not mind mamma ; born to command 
 A vassal world, and to his sovereign will 
 Bend the hereditary slaves destin'd 
 To serve his greatness. In thy studious walks, 
 Wintonia, or where Henry's holy shade 
 Listen'd entranced, what time his antique towers 
 Rang with the harp of Gray, whose dulcet song 
 Rose o'er the silvery Thames, this baby king 
 Must abdicate his power, and his smooth hands 
 Harden with strenuous exercise ; for he 
 Must climb the aspen, stem the wintry flood, 
 Delve the green turf for worms, explore the pool 
 For cresses, or the moor for plover's eggs, 
 Just as the lordly comrade whom he serves 
 Commands his labours ; till, by studious skill, 
 He vaults from form to form, and gains at last 
 Distinctions hardly earn'd. and nobler far 
 
90 EDUCATION. 
 
 Than those chance arbitrates. Invested now 
 With power, but taught by service to command 
 With temper'd justice, and to fear the scoffs 
 Of young compatriots, glowing with disdain 
 Of cruelty and wrong; dreading to soil 
 The gloss of letter'd glory with reproach 
 Sarcastical, authority turns mild, 
 Wears the sweet aspect of protecting love, 
 Participation generous, and benign 
 Instruction. Virtue ripens thus ; thus forms 
 The patron, and the master, and the friend. 
 By suffering taught compassion, temper'd rule 
 By strict obedience ; led to just renown 
 By painful, slow progression ; forc'd to feel 
 Hank cannot patch the tatter'd cloak of shame, 
 Nor from derision and opprobrium guard 
 Oppression, insolence, deceit, and wrong ; 
 The cocker'd hero of the nursery 
 Turns manly from necessity, conceals 
 His wants, bis whims, his terrors, and his pouts, 
 
EDUCATION. 91 
 
 Unheeded, or by shouts reprov'd, perchance 
 Vanquish' d by rougher discipline. He sees 
 Proud self-importance slighted, while esteem, 
 And confidence, and firm adherence crown 
 The curate's boy as captain ; for his parts 
 Lov'd by his master, for his manners more 
 By those who see him in his hours of sport: 
 Faithful and valiant, bold in enterprise, 
 Wise in contrivance, scrupulously just, 
 And generous ev'n in enmity ; in love 
 Warm and unshaken, both in deed and word 
 Veracious, and abhorrent of disguise. 
 
 So 'mid his playmates shone Mandane's son*, 
 The heir of Media, Persia's future lord. 
 Bred in a shepherd's guise ; with matchless skill 
 He forc'd the haughty satrap to confess 
 Virtue's divine supremacy; and train'd 
 On swift Araxes' banks by youthful sports 
 * Cyrus the Great. 
 
92 EDUCATION. 
 
 The heroes destined to subdue thy strength 
 
 Vast Babylon, terror of nations, girt 
 
 With walls immense, and turrets manifold ; ■ 
 
 Invincible, till He who metes the term 
 
 Of empires, weighed thee in his righteous scale, 
 
 And found thee wanting. From the boast of kings, 
 
 Henceforth for ever chang'd to miry swamps, 
 
 Where serpents hiss and mournful bitterns scream, 
 
 Thy towers, thy palaces, thy guilt, thy name, 
 
 Swept from the earth by an Almighty arm, 
 
 Wielding destruction's besom vast and dire*. 
 
 Yet in those haunts where active virtue first 
 Unfolds his eaglet-wings, where friendship's fires 
 Enkindle, and the thirst for honest praise 
 Pains the desiring soul, as yet unknown 
 To glory's bright record, the haggard form 
 Of danger lurks, to scare with fancied ill* 
 
 * Isaiah, 14th chapter, 23d verse. 
 
EDUCATION. 
 
 The distant mother, as she ponders oft 
 The hair-breadth 'scapes of daring enterprise, 
 Or ills more dreadful, from enticements dire 
 Of sin, parent of shame, remorse, and death ! 
 Yet say, is there a path on earth secure 
 From her contagion ? If in public schools, 
 Or academic groves, she stalks re veal' d 
 In all her horrors, underneath thy wing 
 The sorceress will steal, and deeply taint 
 Thy guarded nursling with unsocial pride, 
 And stubborn self-complacence, or unman 
 His timid spirit with chimeras vain ; 
 Till, shrinking from his proper task, he flies 
 To criminal obscurity, the dupe 
 Of knaves, the jest of sycophants, perchance 
 The slave of grossest appetites; yet, still 
 Aping strict morals and sententious worth, 
 He raves with maudlin anger at the world 
 Of which he nothing knows. His flatterers 
 Applaud the dirge monotonous, and drown 
 With many a glass their grief for wicked man, 
 
9± EDUCATION. 
 
 Nor to the magisterial powers who rule 
 In learning's public walks impute the blame, 
 If vice there triumph in her numerous slaves: 
 Mothers, 'tis yours to form a reptile swarm 
 Of sceptics, or a host of Christians fraught 
 With faith and hope divine. 'Tis also yours 
 To sow the seeds of moral purity, 
 Or fan the infant-passions till they blaze, 
 Fed with infernal fuel. Is your home 
 The hall of temperate Agis ? Are your feasts 
 Like those Augustus spread, while round him sat 
 The Julian line ? Plain was their food, but high 
 Their minds regal'd, list'ning to Virgil's song, 
 Or the Venusian lyrist, on whose head 
 Doves scatter' d laurels *. Have you vow'cl your house, 
 Like victor Joshua's, consecrate to heaven ? 
 Or have the demons gluttony, and lust, 
 And vanity there hVd their teraphim, 
 As in the court of Comus, or the sty 
 Of Circe, or Acrasia's dangerous bower ? 
 * Horace, see Ode 4th, Book 3d. 
 
EDUCATION. 95 
 
 What send you to be school'd ? The virgin wax, 
 
 Docile, or printed with the seal of truth 
 
 Indelible ? The pliant ozier, bent 
 
 To useful purposes ? The fertile vine, 
 
 Whose rich redundance and luxuriant shoots 
 
 Ask and repay the pruner's skill ? Alas ! 
 
 'Tis oft the blinking mole, whose narrow ken 
 
 Turns earthward ; or the crab with crooked stalk, 
 
 Stubborn excrescences, and fruit austere ; 
 
 Or parasitic mistletoe, who delves 
 
 Her root unnatural, all culture scorns, 
 
 And if transplanted dies. On the wild gorse 
 
 Look for the rose of Shiraz, ere ye seek 
 
 Knowledge or virtue from the ill-train'd sons 
 
 Of blind indulgence, luxury, or pride. 
 
 The boys remov'd where harsher discipline 
 Best forms the patriot and the hero, still, 
 Like the vale-lily, 'neath their parent shade 
 The daughters flourish, all unmeet to bear 
 
96 EDUCATION. 
 
 The noontide ray or buffet of the winds. 
 
 In cool obscurity they ripen slow, 
 
 Their bashful beauty by a mother's eye 
 
 Noted ; if wise, not prais'd : for well she knows 
 
 That affectation with distorted grace 
 
 Can warp the fairest form, and envy dim 
 
 The brightest eyes, while bold coquetry aims 
 
 Her darts unheeded, or but scares the prey 
 
 She means to vanquish. Modest flowers adorn 
 
 The spring, and in the spring of life no grace 
 
 So sweet as modesty. 'Tis a home-plant 
 
 Which dies with hot-house culture, but demands 
 
 The kind refreshings of maternal love, 
 
 And cautious praise, and gentle precept, still 
 
 Led by example in the daily walk 
 
 Of uniform propriety. The scene 
 
 Where woman acts is home ; be home the school 
 
 In which she learns her part. If grac'd by sense, 
 
 With leisure blest, and sanctified by worth, 
 
 Let the preceptor mother dedicate 
 
EDUCATION. 97 
 
 To her lov'd girls her well expended hours, 
 And train their hearts to virtue and to heaven. 
 The harvest of her labours shall adorn 
 Autumnal life, when like the vine she shows, 
 Bearing her purple clusters, precious all, 
 And goodly to behold. Then the rich dew 
 Of filial love falls on her silver locks, 
 Unction divine ! and grateful duty warms 
 A bosom callous to all other joys. 
 
 Ah ! self- afflicting ignorance, which prompts 
 The fashion-loving dame, low-bred, yet born 
 A votaress of gentility, to lead 
 Her uninstructed daughters to the fair 
 Of vanity, to barter grace for show, 
 Plain sense for pertness, honesty and truth 
 For simulation, industry for taste, 
 If taste it can be deem'd to do that ill, 
 Which to do well in her were idleness. 
 O rest contented, rustic wives ; retain 
 F 
 
93 EDUCATION. 
 
 Your daughters at the spinning-wheel and churn ; 
 Avoid the name of school, till schools arise 
 To teach true knowledge, not accomplishments, 
 And with simplicity of speech disclaim 
 Young lady-pupils and young lady-arts. 
 Girls are grown scarce, plain housewives out of vogue, 
 Hodge cannot find a mate ; but Hodge himself 
 Is chang'd to Roger Riot, or Beau Bob : 
 How fortunate! for Jobson's daughter Peg 
 Is just return d Miss Margaret, complete 
 With six months' education. She talks French, 
 Sings, paints, draws, dances, thumbs an old spinet, 
 And shines in works of uselessness. Her dower 
 Is fifty pounds : Bob wins her. Happy pair ! 
 Scon shall the parish-vestry know your bliss, 
 When, with undarned hose and shirt unwash'd, 
 The thriftless husband asks a weekly sum 
 To feed his wife, who can do nothing. " What ! 
 Six months at school ?" " Ah, masters, that undid 
 All that her mother taught in sixteen years." 
 
EDUCATION. 99 
 
 Turn we from folly, when its stamp thus seems 
 Too gross for satire ; verging to the bounds 
 Of wild insanity, it asks restraints, 
 Not pasquinades : now fairer game appears, 
 The wealthy yeoman's daughter. Must she sit, 
 And rusticate at home, untrain'd, untaught, 
 Her mother a shrewd housewife, and her sire 
 Sordid, and gross, and ignorant ? Must she 
 Be a mere vehicle to carry down 
 His tenements and meadows to a race 
 Dead as her ancestors to liberal worth, 
 Hard as their gold, and stubborn as their lands ? 
 Her eye bespeaks intelligence, her smile 
 Benignity. She wishes to oblige, 
 And pants for knowledge. Sweet one, I must wail 
 The sad alternative which bids thee stay 
 The untaught child of nature ; or exchange 
 Thy pure simplicity for guile, and art, 
 And studied awkwardness. Thou hast no skill 
 To note and reprobate the screw, the twist, 
 
100 EDUCATION. 
 
 The idle loll, the bridle, and the toss, 
 
 When shown to thee for graces, and withheld 
 
 From copying purer models. Hence, alas ! 
 
 Thy pretty mouth will grin when it should smile ; 
 
 Thy feet will amble, not pace smooth ; thy arms 
 
 Fidget and twirl, not drop with quiet ease, 
 
 Or bend in graceful fold. Thy governess 
 
 Proclaims this fashion, and thy mother's eyes, 
 
 Which follow thee admiring, are unapt 
 
 To recognise the cheat who stole her cash, 
 
 And spoil'd her girl : a mincing witch, whose spells 
 
 Have hunted nature from her rustic burghs, 
 
 And scattered hamlets, late her reign — now given 
 
 To squinting affectation, who all day 
 
 Sits making nets for lovers. Fool ! the world 
 
 Has other business than to look on thee, 
 
 Save with one casual glance of hate or scorn. 
 
 O for the dawn of reason rightly nam'd, 
 Reason on God depending, and in him 
 
EDUCATION. 101 
 
 Seeking perfection ! Blessed harbinger 
 Of peace and joy, when will thy dawn arise ! 
 Then education, schooled by truth, shall turn 
 Her culture to the temper and the heart. 
 There, while ameliorating time completes 
 Her labours slowly, shall she delve and prune, 
 Root out each vice indigenous, and plant 
 Virtues, the growth of Canaan's heavenly clime, 
 Odorous, healing. Patient shall she toil, 
 Lay line on line, till, well compact and firm, 
 A temple rises, founded on a base 
 Of adamant, unlike th' infernal pile 
 Of Pandemonium, which spontaneous rose 
 To fifes and timbrels, glittering but unsound. 
 
 Then shall the tongue, and eye, and voice, andheart, 
 Chime in sweet unison ; no studied smile 
 (Mock gentleness) shall part the lip, while rage, 
 Envy, or malice, in the guilty breast, 
 Stretch merit on the iron-rack of spleen, 
 
102 EDUCATION. 
 
 Tho' scourg'd themselves with scorpions. Knowledge, 
 
 Wandering no more in fairy land to twine [then, 
 
 Moonshine and gossamer, from the grave scroll 
 
 Of history shall glean experienced saws, 
 
 And applicable wisdom ; or, perchance, 
 
 Hold converse high with nature, and inquire 
 
 Her author and her laws. Meanwhile applied 
 
 To useful purpose, like Lemuel's spouse, 
 
 Shall occupation for her household weave 
 
 Scarlet or Tyrian purple, meet attire 
 
 For dignity decorous ; or prepare, 
 
 Like Dorcas, coats and garments for the poor^ 
 
 Provident husbandry, repaid by heaven 
 
 With robes unperishing, and glorious all. 
 
 No more shall levity, and her twin-witch, 
 
 Pale dissipation, people home with fiends 
 
 And spectres, but the household-gods shall sit 
 
 Smiling around the hearth; while vanity, 
 
 Like a poor bankrupt-milliner, reloads 
 
 Her caravan with frippery, beads, and toys* 
 
EDUCATION. 103 
 
 Complaining, tho' her wares are excellent, 
 The ladies are no fashionists. O time, 
 Speed this auspicious aera ! but these eyes, 
 Dim with long search, will close ere it appears. 
 
 Sick of wise ignorance, distorted grace, 
 111-nianner'd freedom, and perverted taste, 
 I ask the Muse to bear me where yon oaks 
 Shade the baronial residence ; there sits 
 Almeria, late the grace of courts, retir'd 
 Among her daughters. Industry and skill 
 Direct their labours, while instruction sage 
 Guides the alternate reader through the stores 
 Of knowledge and of truth, succeeded soon 
 By strains angelic ; or th' unfetter'd feet 
 Spring in the agile dance, and wintry days 
 Conclude with healthful exercise, begun 
 By visits to the dairy, or the farm, 
 Or garden-labours, or kind gossipings 
 Among the villagers, the poor, the sick, 
 
104 EDUCATION. 
 
 The helpless, the infirm. Nor these alone : / 
 Enlighten' d charity has other claims 
 Save those of indigence, nor to her purse 
 Limits her distributions. In the robe 
 Of sweet authority she conquers spleen, 
 Disarms brutality with smiles, and warms 
 With her bright beams unfeeling avarice, 
 Brooding mid cobwebs on his unsunn'd hoards; 
 Till, not from pity, but from pride, he drops 
 His dole unsanctified, yet precious still 
 To thy vast cravings, shiveriug indigence ! 
 
 Thus affable, beneficent, and kind, 
 The lovely visitants impart the charms 
 Of unaffected worth, the ready grace 
 Of native condescension, eyes that dart 
 Th' unstudied glance of love, and the sweet tone 
 Of words mellifluous, dropping truth and sense 
 On the charm'd ear. Th' astonished rustics hail 
 The gracious strangers, all enamour 'd now, 
 
EDUCATION. 105 
 
 Of nature polish'd, not transpos'd by art, 
 They curse the limping sorceress who requir'd 
 Their homage as gentility. O name 
 More idoliz'd than wisdom, since thy sway 
 Is universal, oft reveal thy face, 
 Lest some false Florimel usurp thy throne. 
 
 As Ceres, wandering through Achaia, chang'd 
 A barbarous people, and a barren clime 
 To copious harvests, and a golden age 
 Of plenty, harmony, content, and joy ; 
 Blessings rernember'd long, whether beside 
 Thy stream, Ilyssus, grateful Athens slew 
 Her victim-ram ; or, with transcendent pomp, 
 Eleusis form'd her votive games, combin'd 
 With rites mysterious, in deep sanctity, 
 And awful gloom involved : so shall the smiles, 
 The mild persuasion, and the manner'd ease 
 Of nymphs like thine, Almeria, give our fields 
 The purer charms of courts. Sweetness shall reign 
 v 5 
 
106 EDUCATION. 
 
 Without its base concomitant, disguise ; 
 Grace shall unite with kind attention, prone 
 To feel another's wo. Sorrow shall change 
 Loud petulance to patience ; ease assume 
 An air benignant ; and Sir Calidore, 
 As in the days of Gloriane, overthrow* 
 The blatant beast, monster of insolence, 
 Assailing virtue with a thousand tongues. 
 
 Ye who aspire to please, yet slight the charms 
 Of plain simplicity (a rustic maid 
 Close clad in russet, with a hat of straw 
 Shading her auburn locks, an artless blowze, 
 Tho' much belov'd), first learn that elegance, 
 Native to some high-favour'd, must by most 
 With studious search be woo'd. Three graces join 
 To fold the robe of Cypria's queen ; the face 
 Apelles painted, caught from every nymph, 
 Where every nymph is beauty, some soft charm 
 * Fairy £ueen, Book 6. Canto 12. 
 
E DU CAT ION. 10/ 
 
 To form perfection, blended nice, and join'd 
 In one bright whole, not like the motley coat 
 Of mirth-provoking Harlequin. The grace 
 Which floats o'er yon fine figure is a veil 
 Subtile as gossamer ; thy grogram net 
 Is not more like it than the whalebone-hoop 
 Of stirTen'd tiffany of elder times. 
 Long did the mother brace the pliant arms, 
 Restrain th' elastic step, and bend each limb 
 With gentle undulation, ere, complete, 
 Belinda darted through the mazy dance, 
 A new Terpsichore ; like her of old 
 Crown'd with green laurels, and as loosely rob'd, 
 While the sweet timbrel in her hand resounds 
 Responsive to her steps ; now vaulting high, 
 Now skimming lightly the meandering maze, 
 The airy figure with each stated bend 
 Twines graceful, while the floating drapery 
 Unstudied, yet with nice adjustment, falls. 
 Peals of applause succeed, and Parisot 
 
108 EDUCATION. 
 
 And Polymela must resign the palm. 
 
 Ah ! seek it not, ye mothers, dearly bought 
 
 By the pure blush of modesty, content 
 
 With sober praise, or calm pre-eminence 
 
 In unobtrusive goodness. Years of toil, 
 
 And hours of torture, stolen from wise research, 
 
 Or active virtue, gave a high-born maid, 
 
 Dian's chaste votaress, the degrading skill 
 
 To ape the hireling's meretricious charms. 
 
 Nor praise I those estrone' d by love of song ; 
 Song without sense, unlike the living strains 
 That Clio pour'd to Phoebus, or thy notes, 
 Cecilia, which from high and heavenly quires, 
 From golden harps and dulcet harmonies, 
 Caird down angelic visitants to hear 
 The lauds of mortals. Different far the aims 
 Of her who immolates at music's shrine 
 Her gagg'd and fetter'd hours. Awful offence. 
 Inexpiable ! Destinies sublime, 
 
EDUCATION. 109 
 
 High duties, firm resolves, important cares, 
 
 Await each child of Adam ; not the toils 
 
 Of the cag'd bullfinch, who, from morn to noon, 
 
 From noon to silent evening, trills the cliaunt 
 
 Of joyless indolence. Unknown to him 
 
 The nectar'd sweets which occupation spreads 
 
 On herb and flower, on heaths or sunny glens, 
 
 To solace the industrious bee. Unknown 
 
 To thee, fair slave of fashion and of sound, 
 
 That harmony sublime the approving voice 
 
 Of conscience warbles, when, at close of day, 
 
 It chaunts the vespers of content, and pours 
 
 The requiem sleep best loves. Strains so divine 
 
 Thou leav'st to the poor curate's weary girl, 
 
 Returning from the dying villager 
 
 Her kindness fail'd to save. Dearer to thee 
 
 Is the bravissiment of gay Sir Plume, 
 
 Or the half-smile and low responsive hum 
 
 By which Beau Dilletanti deigns to note 
 
 The measure, while thy hands, with nimble sleight, 
 
110 EDUCATION. 
 
 Hun o'er the trembling keys, and thy forc'd voice. 
 With alto quavers and convulsive shakes, 
 Adorns the nothing of the season, learn'd 
 And ridicul'd by all. For such an end 
 Giv'st thou the hours and pains which might suffice 
 To form a Verulain, more than the term, 
 Fair spouse of Dudley *, which the iron-times 
 Gave to thy brief but well expended life ! 
 Ambition's victim ! learning's paragon ! 
 Martyr of truth ! and miracle of worth ! 
 Thine was the lure of beauty, thine the pride 
 Of birth, from kings deriv'd ; love too was thine, 
 Happy connubial love. Yet couldst thou spurn 
 The bribe of added years, and meekly lay 
 Thy golden ringlets on the block, distain'd 
 With blood far dearer than thine own ; his blood, 
 Thy lord's, thy Dudley's, whom thou mightst have sav'd 
 By turning recreant to thy God. As erst, 
 In thy paternal towers, thou didst prefer 
 * Lady Jane Grey. 
 
EDUCATION, ] 11 
 
 Thy holy meditations to the chace, 
 
 Or noisy revelry, so thou couldst die 
 
 Rather than swerve from duty. But thy youth 
 
 Laps'd not in vain attainments. Thou didst drink 
 
 Largely at truth's full fountain, unprofan'd 
 
 By doubt or error ; and the Attic bee *, 
 
 Who soar'd on mortal pinion till he touched 
 
 The empyrean heaven, fed thee with sweets, 
 
 Cull'd from his well-stor'd hive. Nor was thy stock 
 
 Of female graces scant, rich in desert, 
 
 But richest, wisest, happiest, thou didst gain 
 
 The pearl inestimable. In years a child, 
 
 Amid the shipwreck of thy earthly hopes, 
 
 Through troublous seas thy bark shot straight to heavn. 
 
 Such are the glorious fruits life's early hours 
 Well husbanded produce. Mothers, attend ! 
 Nor on a soft Armida, skill'd in arts 
 Voluptuous, waste your cares, which, well applied, 
 * Plato. 
 
112 EDUCATION. 
 
 Might fashion angels dower' d with gifts divine, 
 Nor less invincible for human charms. 
 
 Twas in these saintly labours pass'd the hours 
 Of rash Northumberland's chaste daughter*, wife 
 Of uncorrupted Sidney. She abjur'd 
 The vain pursuits that lur'd her father's fall, 
 Devote to holiest duties. Where the oaks 
 Of Penshurst wave o'er Medway's virgin flood, 
 She rear'd the rose of Britain, and its sword, 
 In every region, and in every age 
 Sacred alike to virtue and the Muse ; 
 Blending high talents with the chaster praise 
 Of pious sanctity, yet all deriv'd 
 From the maternal themes, the rich result 
 Of unobtrusive graces, in the school 
 Of christian wisdom early train'd : there sat 
 
 * The Lady Mary Sidney, daughter of Dudley Duke of 
 Northumberland, wife to Sir Henry Sidney, and mother to the 
 renowned Sir Philip Sidney and Mary Countess of Pembroke. 
 
 
EDUCATION. 113 
 
 The parent-tutoress, there young Philip's eyes 
 First flashed divine intelligence, while truth 
 From Mary's rosy lips in lisping strains 
 Sooth'd the rapt mother; while, by faith inspir'd, 
 She saw immortal crowns and lucid robes 
 Invest her angel-offspring, doom'd to stand 
 Conspicuous in an age most eminent 
 In the long records of Britannia's fame. 
 
 Who shone in courts the fairest of the fair ? 
 Who guided England's helm with matchless skill ? 
 Who as a woman charm'd, and as a wife 
 Was best belov'd ? Thy blameless spouse, Nassau, 
 Delight of Britain, glory of her time, 
 Virtue's firm friend, the solacer of grief, 
 Oppression's scourge, and patroness of law ; 
 For whom the Muse still, with regretful tears, 
 Bedews the wreaths sepulchral, twin'd long since 
 By hands divine for Mary's early bier, 
 
114 EDUCATION. 
 
 O princess ! while the splendour of thy name 
 Wakes emulation in the kindred breasts 
 Of those fair graces who on Albion shed 
 Influence benign, in virtue as in birth 
 Pre-eminent,, still on the pure record 
 Of thy unsullied life maternal love 
 Shall deeply muse, enamour'd of thy fame, 
 And oft dismiss her daughters to the school 
 Which taught thee wisdom. From the sacred page, 
 Theme of thy daily studies, British maids 
 Shall learn thy lovely virtues, sanctitude, 
 And manners pure, humility and truth, 
 With courtesy their offspring. How unlike 
 The changeling who usurps her name, begot 
 By pride on artifice, and trained to cheat 
 Simple credulity, a village-child, 
 Too apt to gaze at mountebanks, and toss 
 Its savings to the party-colour'd knave 
 Who bows so gracefully, and talks so smooth. 
 
EDUCATION, 115 
 
 With guile as palpable, false courtesy 
 Wins by grimace the vulgar ; fawns, and grins, 
 And licks the dust in humbleness ; yet still, 
 Devote to Mammon's service, not to Cod's, 
 It weighs with nicest poise the future gain 
 Of its assum'd abasement. Mothers, chase 
 The sorceress from your haunts, and in her stead 
 Welcome the glorious archetype, heav'n-born, 
 Whose smile is beauty, and whose deeds are love. 
 
 As a capacious garden, richly spread 
 With fruits and flowers, the growth of happier climes, 
 While spring leads on the verdant hours, demands 
 The swain's incessant labour to defend 
 The frail exotics from protracted frost, 
 Damp mildew, or the insect-swarms who ride 
 The arid blasts which sweep Sarmatia's wastes, 
 Or Greenland's magazines of ice, the hoard 
 Of many a thousand winter. Nor remits 
 The gardener's care, tho' soft Favonius leads 
 More genial seasons, scattering from his lap 
 
116 EDUCATION. 
 
 Garlands for Flora, for Pomona flowers 
 
 Pregnant with juicy fruit. Then liberal grows 
 
 TV offensive weed, and chokes th' encumber'd soil. 
 
 Bent with redundant bloom, the slender stalk 
 
 Demands support, and the luxuriant shoot 
 
 Calls on the skilful pruner to correct 
 
 Its wild abundance. Through the winding paths 
 
 The admiring visitant walks, pleas'd to view 
 
 Order, and grace, and beauty. The brown swain, 
 
 Bent on his mattock, listens to this praise 
 
 With honest gratulation. Such delight 
 
 Warms the maternal bosom, when the dance, 
 
 The crowded gala, or, best seen, the bowers 
 
 Of private life, disclose the graceful charms 
 
 Of her fair daughters ; fair as Amoret, 
 
 When in the lap of womanhood she sat* 
 
 Retired in conscious loveliness, and charm'd 
 
 The gallant Scudamore, ere Brusiane, 
 
 Fell spoiler, broke the bands of plighted love. 
 
 * Fairy Sueen, Book 4. Canto 10. Stanza 52. 
 
EDUCATION. 117 
 
 " How vast the mother's cares ! how long her 
 Cries sighing indolence. Yet brace thy nerves, [toils !" 
 And gird thy mind to duty. Well perform'd, 
 Soon shall a willing partner at thy side 
 Rise diligent, relieve thy anxious pains> 
 Or yield to thee the solace failing health 
 And wasted strength require. Who now presides 
 O'er the still school ? Some watchful genius wears 
 An elder sister's form ; restraint and awe 
 Seem half relax'd, but. tenderness prevails, 
 And kind entreaty, and remember'd claims 
 Of confidence most precious, fan the spark 
 Of latent emulation to a flame, 
 Vivid, yet genial. " See/' observe the young, 
 " Our dearest sister's honours all obtain'd 
 By industry and rectitude. We, too, 
 Tutor' d by time and study, may, like her, 
 Become our mother's friend. Dear name ! Best gift 
 Her kindness can bestow." Thus ruminate 
 The rosy pupils, as with added zeal 
 
US EDUCATION. 
 
 They con their tasks, or trace the flowing line. 
 
 The beauteous teacher, with benignant grace, 
 
 Impartial turns to each, reproves with pain, 
 
 Commends with rapture, and with kisses greets 
 
 The infant prattler, early brought to learn 
 
 Restraint, first law of discipline, and lisp 
 
 Its criss-cross row. But should some wayward girl, 
 
 Froward or fraudulent, compel appeal 
 
 To strict authority, all mild reproof, 
 
 All lenient measures vain, — with throbbing heart, 
 
 And cheek all wet with tears, the sister yields 
 
 To the just judge, determines to be firm, 
 
 And leads the culprit, pale through fear and shame, 
 
 To the maternal presence, tells the fault 
 
 She half excuses, begs but one reproof, 
 
 Hopes reformation, and with joy admits 
 
 The scant apology, Bending, she meets 
 
 A shy embrace with open arms, and vows 
 
 Love was the potent orator who rous'd 
 
 Reluctant anger. But, if stubborn still, 
 
EDUCATION. 119 
 
 Impenitent, incorrigible, nVd 
 In sullen pride, the bold offender scorns 
 Counsel or threat, — ere awful punishment 
 Bares her firm arm, th' accuser turns aside, 
 Hides with her hands the burst of generous wo, 
 And, what she dares not deprecate, deplores. 
 
 Thus, while the sword of pestilence or war 
 Unsheath'd, impends o'er an offending realm, 
 Weeps the commissioned angel to foresee 
 The chastisements of mercy : higher thoughts 
 Blend with these sad relen tings, which conclude 
 In loud hosannas to the righteous Judge, 
 Who, like a pitying father, smites to save. 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
ARGUME N T. 
 
 The sons 1 return home, after completing their education. A 
 happj- family living in domestic union. Such scenes fre- 
 quent in former times. An old baron's household described. 
 Savage life tends to strengthen the claims of kindred. Pa- 
 triarchal manners. Domestic pursuits of yeomen, when 
 the family joined to cultivate the common farm. Change 
 of manners, younger sons beiug now obliged to seek other 
 occupations. Home is then felt to be dear, and its delights 
 unequalled, though its restraints were once irksome. The 
 parent fixes the child's employment. Painful anticipation 
 of the mother. Mutual pangs of separation. Retrospec- 
 tion of home in more advanced life. Maternal anxiety 
 continues. Memory draws flattering perspectives. The 
 mother's duty with respect to her sons is now limited to 
 prayer and instruction. Feelings of a mother whose son 
 attains distinguished eminence. Consolation of those 
 who have only daughters. A mother's anxiety for them 
 during the period of courtship. Portents of marriage. 
 Description of a happy union. The mother must subdue 
 her reluctance to part with a beloved daughter, and yield 
 her former pre-eminence in her affections. Wisdom and 
 mercy of Providence in providing for man successive at- 
 tachments and connections. Consoling prospect of the 
 veneration and love which a good mother's memory re- 
 ceives from her descendants. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 J3ut while the well-train'd daughters thus improve 
 
 In years, iii charms, iu virtues, aud forebode 
 
 Happy alliances, and large increase 
 
 Of honour to the parent-house, the sons, 
 
 Ripen' d to manly vigour, and endu'd 
 
 With learning and intrepid virtue, firm 
 
 As their congenial oaks, return to prop 
 
 Those lovely plants, who, like the woodbine, crave 
 
 Protection, and with honied sweets perfume 
 
 The stem round which their tendrils fondly twine. 
 
 And happy he, whose envied lot allows 
 
 Tranquil domestic joys — the social meal, 
 
 The evening festival, the morning lounge, 
 
 A smiling sister hanging on each arm, 
 
 Are his ; his, too, the intellectual feast 
 
I24t SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Of confidential friendship, unrestrain'd 
 By jealousy, unchill'd by cold neglect, 
 Unwarp'd by rival interests. Best regale 
 Of pilgrim-man, while journeying to the realm 
 Where, in its native soil, this golden fruit 
 Swells with nectareous pulp ; not, as on earth, 
 Austere and dwindling, like a southern plant 
 Transplanted to some rigid arctic clime. 
 
 Yet pause a while : the family of love, 
 Cultur'd by taste, by truth and virtue train'd, 
 Invite th' enamour d Muse. Whether they wind 
 O'er hill and valley, culling herb and flower, 
 Or in the garden's shrubby pale enclos'd, 
 Pursue the blissful arts in Eden learn' d ; 
 Here, as of old > the sons of Adam choose 
 The rougher part ; they pulverize the soil, 
 Press on the loosen'd banks the massy roil, 
 Or bend with strenuous arms the osier-staves 
 To form the arbour, meditated scene 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 125 
 
 Of social joys. Round this thy daughters, Eve, 
 
 Entwine a verdant canopy, composed 
 
 Of every graceful climber. Fragrant here, 
 
 Clematis creeps, the prickly eglantine, 
 
 The jasmine and the woodbine, sweetest plant 
 
 That scents the breath of Flora. Or they deck 
 
 The shelter'd southern bank with vernal flowers, 
 
 To greet returning Phoebus, and compose 
 
 A May-day wreath. Here, too, when autumn chills 
 
 The dews of eve, their choice exotics brave 
 
 Awhile the tempest ; pensile fuschia hangs 
 
 Her scarlet bloom, and coronilla shows 
 
 The cowslip-hue and soft perfumes of spring ; 
 
 Th' odorous myrtle waves his snowy crest, 
 
 And anagalis to the dying year 
 
 Unfolds its purple flowers. Ev'n when without 
 
 The rough storm beats, still round the parlour-fire 
 
 A happy circle meet. Music, and song, 
 
 And study, nor abstract nor frivolous, 
 
 Labours of taste, or charity, or use, 
 
126 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN, 
 
 Employ the day; and when the shutters close, 
 
 Stripp'd of his icy beard and furrow'd frown, 
 
 Old Hyems sits a palmer at the hearth, 
 
 Partakes the wassail goblet, and repeats 
 
 Sage chronicles, and saws, and legends wild ; 
 
 Or, dearer still, recalls the sportive scenes 
 
 Of early life, the school-boy's stratagem, 
 
 The truant's dangerous scrape, the college-prank, 
 
 And every slight excess of buoyant youth, 
 
 When the warm pulse beats high, which prudent age, 
 
 Ev'n while it censures, pardons. Mid the scene, 
 
 The mother sits as priestess at the shrine 
 
 Of blameless joy, and, ere it swerves to ill, 
 
 Checks its exuberance. Every word of love 
 
 Swells her responsive heart ; but should a cloud, 
 
 Transient and rlecker'd as the misty veil 
 
 Which, mid the fervour of a summer's morn, 
 
 Flits lightly o'er the sun-beams, chill the glow 
 
 Of harmony most cordial, her mild eye 
 
 Reproves the offending child ; and oft she quits 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 127 
 
 The circle for her oratory, there 
 
 To sanctify festivity with praise, 
 
 And, like th' Arabian patriarch *, supplicate 
 
 Her children may not in their feasts offend. 
 
 Time was such scenes were frequent, now denied, 
 Save to a happy few. The feudal lord 
 Reign'd in his castle, and his numerous sons, 
 The bulwarks of his ancient house, partook 
 The common banquet ; at one manger fed 
 Their snorting chargers ; in one banner'd hall 
 Their spears, and bows, and shields, and helmets hung. 
 Then, while the brother-chieftains, side by side, 
 Led forth their kindred vassals to the chase, 
 Or mightier game of war, graceful and grave 
 The noble matron to the chapel call'd 
 Her daughters and her handmaids, there to chaunt 
 Matins, and, kneeling, tell their holy beads, 
 Imploring for their valiant brothers fame, 
 * Job, 1st chapter, 5th verse. 
 
128 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN, 
 
 Prosperity, and safety ; for their foes 
 Confusion and destruction. Sinful prayer, 
 And unreceiv'd by Him, the common sire 
 Of all mankind. Yet thus affection knit 
 The strong, fraternal cord. Thus every house 
 Became a little monarchy, compos'd 
 Of children-citizens, and kindred slaves, 
 Distinguish' d from the world beside, which seem'd 
 A horde unknown of aliens or of foes. 
 
 Still lives to foes this strong hostility 
 Of blood, this close communion with the tribes 
 Who roam through Samojeda, or the wilds 
 Which stretch from Missisrppi to the shores 
 Of Omalashka, where the new world bends 
 To meet her ancient partner, and reclose 
 The chasm made when the disjointed earth 
 Sank formless in a watery grave, till God 
 Call'd her anew to being, but deforni'd 
 With precipices huge and gulfs profound, 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 129 
 
 Marks of her guilt and ruin. Where through wastes 
 Unbounded the Tartarean plunderer roves, 
 Or Indian hunter, savage as his game. 
 They rove in numerous families combined ; 
 Tho' terrible to others, firmly knit 
 In kindred union to their clans they bear 
 The elk, or buffalo, or spotted pard, 
 Or the rich plunder of some caravan, 
 Journeying to China's mart. In purer times, 
 The fathers of mankind thus, mid a race 
 Sprung from their loins, hVd blameless, king, and priest, 
 And parent of the numerous progeny 
 Whose tents were pitch'd around them. In the midst, 
 Beneath a lofty oak, the altar rose, 
 Hallow'd with daily sacrifice ; the sire 
 There judg'd offences, or disclos'd the will 
 Of God, reveal'd in vision, or deriv'd 
 From sure tradition. Distant graz'd the herds, 
 Or panted in the blaze of Asia's noon, 
 Or ruminating, couch'd. At the near well 
 G 5 
 
130 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 The handmaids rins'd their vests, or ground the meal, 
 
 Or bak'd the leaven'd dough, or seeth'd the kid 
 
 For meet repast; hard duties these, ere art 
 
 Assisted labour. But, in converse high, 
 
 Hound the old patriarch sat his elder bom, 
 
 Discoursing on the birth of time, then young, 
 
 x\nd every miracle of Providence 
 
 By which the Highest nurtur'd feeble man — 
 
 Fall'n iuexperienc'd to existence new, 
 
 Beset with danger, but by grace sustain' d. 
 
 Time was, Britannia, when thy fertile meads,. 
 (And meads more fitted to sustain the wants 
 Of simple life nor Nile nor Ganges laves 
 In their long course), time was, those meads supplied 
 The honest yeoman, and the athletic brood 
 Sprung from his bed, with food and plain attire, 
 Bound of their humble prayers. The mother then, 
 A housewife sage, rose at the second cock, 
 And rous'd her slumbering daughters to provide 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 131 
 
 The needful wardrobe. Cheerful at their wheels 
 
 They caroll'd, till the bleat of weaning lambs, 
 
 Or low of kine with loaded udders^ call'd 
 
 To other toils. Monotonous and slow 
 
 Dashes the churn ; the loaded cheese-press groans ; 
 
 Swift whirls, with lightning- speed, the noisy reel ; 
 
 Some on the shaven grass-plot spread the web, 
 
 To court the bleaching winds. Part bear aloft 
 
 The tinkling brass to lure the swarming bees r 
 
 Or from the swampy moor, or elder-fence,. 
 
 Cull fruits and flowers indigenous, design'd 
 
 For winter-stores. Nor fear'd they rougher toils, 
 
 But gave their beauty to the nipping gales, 
 
 Or blistering sun, what time the new-mown Jiay, 
 
 Or wheat maturely brown, summon'd their aid, 
 
 To share their brothers' tasks ; then lighter far 
 
 Than when they rose at midnight to resist 
 
 The ravage of the flood, when southern blasts 
 
 Broke up the stubborn magazines of ice, 
 
 And swell'd the mountain-torrents with a storm 
 
132 SEPARATION PROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Of sleet and hail; yet through that storm they rush'd. 
 
 And in the swelling inundation plung'd, 
 
 To drive their shivering kine to pastures safe. 
 
 Theirs also was the toil to seek their flocks 
 
 In deep ravines, where, shelter'd from the wind, 
 
 The harmless people couch'd, till o'er their heads 
 
 The drifting snow pil'd gradual ; patient there 
 
 They ruminated, till their guardian swains, 
 
 Led by their dogs* sagacious bark, explor'd 
 
 And freed the captives, bearing in their arms 
 
 The feeblest to the sheep-cot, shelter'd warm, 
 
 And with dry fodder stor'd. In spring those swain* 
 
 Twirl'd the incessant flail, or hew'd the oak, 
 
 Or through the stubborn glebe, with strenuous arm, 
 
 Slow urg'd the glittering share. In rural arts 
 
 Pre-eminently skill'd, the hardy youths 
 
 Cherish'd no loftier aims. Twas their discourse, 
 
 Who best could throw the level swath, who guide 
 
 The sickle most adroitly, or dispose 
 
 In regular arrangement, neat and firm, 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 133 
 
 The pyramidal rick, alike in form 
 
 To Egypt's ancient wonders, slowly rais'd 
 
 By groaning slaves to posthumous renown, 
 
 And vain ambition. More important far 
 
 These trophies of abundance, magazines 
 
 Of agricultural wealth, still largely pil'd 
 
 In Britain, tho' the manners of her swains, 
 
 " Ah ! piteous work of mutability V 
 
 Loos'd from the ties which to one home, one task, 
 
 One interest, the laborious brethren bound, 
 
 Preserve their old simplicity no more. 
 
 Now comes the period when the younger sons 
 Must quit their father's house, whether it rose 
 In proud manorial grandeur, to o'erlook 
 Valley, and wood, and hill, subjected all 
 To its command ; or to the village spire 
 Contiguous, its white railing, garden trim, 
 And library well stor'd, bespoke th' abode 
 * Spenser. 
 
13-1- SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN, 
 
 Of contemplative taste — the man of God, 
 
 Who feeds the flock committed to his charge 
 
 Duly ; or elegant recluse, retir'd 
 
 From toils of active life. Whether, fond boy, 
 
 The home time calls thee to relinquish yields 
 
 These higher joys, or yon strong mansion, built 
 
 In former ages by the knight or lord 
 
 For dowager or spinster, where still grow 
 
 Tall obelisks of holly, box, and yew, 
 
 Disclaiming innovation ; and within 
 
 The massy beams, the windows cas'd with stone, 
 
 The open chimney, and the spacious hall, 
 
 Spite of the carpets and the painted chairs, 
 
 Confess primeval manners, ek'd and flounc'd 
 
 By modern luxury. If this abode, 
 
 Seat of rude plenty and obstreperous mirth, 
 
 First gave thee being, sacred is the name 
 
 Of home, and dear its joys. Ah ! where is found 
 
 Such shelter as the father's roof; where friend 
 
 Kind, like the mother; where delights like those 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 135 
 
 Tasted when life was young, when buoyant joy 
 Leap'd forth, dispos'd with every living thing 
 To gambol, till exhausted weariness 
 Impos'd reluctant slumbers, sweet, profound, 
 Ending at morn's first ray ? Then blithly rose 
 The sprightly boy, to finish some design, 
 Mischievous half, yet of invention keen, 
 And energy prophetic. Oft amid 
 The banishments by wise instruction's laws 
 Enforc'd, the school-boy, listless to his task, 
 Ponders the joys of home — the hazel copse, 
 Where first he found the bullfinch, the clear stream. 
 Where crimson- spotted trout and minnows play'd, 
 The level lawn on which he chas'd his bowl, 
 Or pitch'd his nine-pins ; every dear delight 
 Of summer-evenings, when, high pois'd in air, 
 The paper-kite, envy of village lads, 
 Majestically soar'd. He counts the hours 
 Which shall restore these blessings, when again 
 The rosy holydays, on cherub wings * 
 * See a Fairy Tale, by Mrs. Talbot, published with her Essays, 
 
136 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Arriving, shall conduct him to the scene 
 
 Of all his joys. Rover shall lick his hand ; 
 
 His favourite poney willingly sustain 
 
 Its joyful lord ; soon the paternal gates 
 
 Shall open, soon within a mother's arms 
 
 His heart shall pant with rapture, while he hears 
 
 His wish'd improvements prais'd. From his swoll'ii eye 
 
 He wipes the tear, arouses all his powers, 
 
 As to th' Homeric song or Virgil's page, 
 
 Dropp'd from his hand, renew'd attention turns. 
 
 Yet when harsh discipline, or sharp restraint, 
 Goads the free spirit at that patriot age, 
 When every wish is liberty, the soul 
 Eager anticipates the golden hours 
 Of self-command, and meditates vast scenes 
 Of enterprise, and fair success, and fame, 
 Till a new world, well modell'd, seems to rise 
 In vision, like the fairy-palaces 
 Magnificent, attendant on the call 
 Of an enchanter's rod. Home then appears 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 137 
 
 Armida's tower*, where captive Tancred lay, 
 
 While fierce Argantes through the Christian carnp 
 
 Destruction spread, and Godfrey vainly call'd 
 
 His absent champion, who, by magic bonds, 
 
 Was chain'd from high emprise. How tedious, then^ 
 
 Appear its stinted services I How mean 
 
 Its calm security ! At length the hour 
 
 Arrives of manumission. On the stream 
 
 Of life his bark shall rush, with pendants gay, 
 
 An inexperienc'd, sanguine voyager, 
 
 Hast'ning to isles of bliss, and mines of gold. 
 
 Good speed attend thee; and may hope and joy 
 
 Still man thy shrouds, while prudence steers thy helm* 
 
 For after long debate, revolving oft 
 The properest guardian, and the surest path 
 To honour, or emolument, or fame, 
 Or to those humbler views, sufficiency 
 And peace, paternal love at length appoints 
 * Tasso's Jerusalem, Book 7th. 
 
lob SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 (As far as finite mortal can appoint) 
 
 The fortunes of the boy. Not rashly chos'n, 
 
 Fix'd without wisdom, and capricious chang'd 
 
 As levity directs, but gravely weigh'd, 
 
 To talents, habits, character, and health 
 
 Best suited ; nor o'erlook'd that higher view, 
 
 Which in the frail inhabitant of earth 
 
 Discerns the future citizen of heaven, 
 
 And guards th' immortal franchise. Awful trust ! 
 
 Which nature's, reason's, and religion's voice 
 
 Bestow on parents, to allot each child 
 
 Its future destination — rightly use 
 
 The delegated confidence, for heaven 
 
 Requires most strict account. Perverse designs 
 
 Of cunning worldlings, cruel tyranny, 
 
 Stubborn inflexibility of will, 
 
 Deaf to intreaty ; prejudice, or spleen, 
 
 Must not be pleaded at that awful bar. 
 
 The hour of trial is arriv'd, long fear'd 
 By the fond mother, who, in privacy, 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 139 
 
 Bath'd her pale cheek with tears, and humbly praVd 
 
 Celestial benediction, while her hands, 
 
 Busied in Martha's toils, selected aught 
 
 Of use, or comfort, or delight, to sooth 
 
 The wanderer's future wants. Want till that hour 
 
 He never knew, which kindness could relieve, 
 
 Or care anticipate; but stranger- hands 
 
 Must now perform those offices, to love 
 
 Most dear ; and stranger-hearts, with feelings cold, 
 
 Fulfil the stinted service justice claims, 
 
 Once paid by love with vast munificence, 
 
 Outgoing obligation. Will he find 
 
 A friendly breast, to which his treasur'd woes 
 
 May be confided, where his aching head, 
 
 Leaning, may find repose ? His fever' d lip 
 
 Who now shall moisten with the cooling cup, 
 
 Or heal with draughts medicinal ? The couch 
 
 Of restless pain who shall compose, or (task 
 
 More difficult) administer reproof 
 
 To headlong indiscretion, temper'd sweet 
 
HO SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 With tenderness ineffable, till tears 
 
 Awake the scorpions of remorse ? For love 
 
 Pains more than anger, by its chastisements, 
 
 A heart susceptible of generous shame, 
 
 And grateful recollection. He who stood 
 
 Firm and unyielding while the pedagogue 
 
 Brandish'd his rod, who, with disdainful air, 
 
 Eudur'd the menace of opprobrious rage, 
 
 Has melted to behold his mother's eye 
 
 Mildly expostulate ; has felt her sighs 
 
 Than stripes more agonizing; and has fear'd 
 
 Expulsion from that safe retreat, her arms, 
 
 Worse than the furies academic lore 
 
 Plants round her hallow'd grove, from theft profane 
 
 To guard her laurels. Will the busy world 
 
 Stop in the chase of avarice or fame 
 
 To mark a stripling stranger, and explain 
 
 The latent characters of soul which speak 
 
 A mind not stubborn, but determin'd, brave 
 
 To high courageous daring, yet dispos'd 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 141 
 
 To grateful yearnings, pitiful and kind, 
 
 Artless in manner, and averse to own 
 
 Its own deserts ? Ah, no ! hid in the shell 
 
 Of rough demeanour, careless, unconstrained, 
 
 Th* untasted fruit of rich integrity 
 
 Will shrivel unperceiv'd. Yet did she spare 
 
 No culture to induce the golden growth 
 
 Of courtesy and winning grace. Alas ! 
 
 Was the soil barren, or did anxious love 
 
 Look for the fruit before the blossom swell'd f 
 
 So in her closet, meditating sad, 
 The mother reasons, while a sombrous cloud, 
 Gradual succeeding the effulgent glow 
 Of hope, o'er the adventurer's youthful cheek 
 In pallid silence steals. Again he pats 
 His darling Rover, visits yet again 
 Each favour'd haunt, bids a renew'd adieu 
 To the old nurse, his confident, or hind, 
 Who hid the lapses of his boyish hours, 
 
J 42 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 And shar'd his hoarded apples. Now he parts 
 Among his playmates keepsakes, be they spoils 
 Torn from the plundered wanderers of air, 
 Marbles or tops, the wicket and the bat, 
 Each token of adroitness, precious late, 
 And with regret resign'd. His sadden'd heart 
 Feels these divestments; and the world unknown, 
 So beauteous once, looks blank, a naked void 
 Of each delight, to habit or to love 
 Most dear. But at the door the neighing steed 
 Gives summons dire. He turns: Is this a time 
 For weak irresolution ? " Yet to view 
 A mother's tears, and bid farewel. O task 
 Impossible ! Will not to-morrow's dawn 
 Conduct her to my pillow, to inquire 
 If I am well, or chide my sluggishness ? 
 To-morrow's sun will rise, but from that voice 
 And smile, than day more cheerful, I forlorn 
 Shall rove in banishment, O most belov'd, 
 Most honour'd ! Is she silent ? Does she fear 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN". 143 
 
 Her sorrows will unman me that she checks 
 
 Her faltering voice, nor washes with one tear 
 
 The parting kiss, while on my head her hand 
 
 Is press'd in benediction, and her eyes 
 
 Rais'd in mute awe to heaven. Farewel !" Tis spoke, 
 
 And forth he rushes. Now unsluic'd his griefs, 
 
 Long painfully restrained, in torrents burst, 
 
 Soon check'd by decent pride, as with a speed 
 
 That speaks his diffidence, he eager posts 
 
 Along the destin'd road, and fears to turn ; 
 
 Till from the summit of the hill, whose bourne 
 
 Shuts from his view that bower of bliss by him 
 
 So lov'd, he pauses, takes a parting look 
 
 Of the dear hamlet ; cottage, field, and grove 
 
 Decyphering, and the lares, social powers, 
 
 Who people every hearth, for every hearth 
 
 Is hallow* d then, and innocence and joy 
 
 Bound o'er those fields. He gazes till his eyes 
 
 Ache with impassion'd vision. What ! no more 
 
 Must he return ? " Yes," soothing hope replies, 
 
114 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 " Thou sbalt return, laden with wealth and fame 
 
 And thy return shall be a festival 
 
 Of gratulating bliss, a holyday 
 
 Of social transport. But go, first pursue 
 
 The path which duty points/' Sighing, he yields, 
 
 And speeds his pilgrimage along the vale. 
 
 So on the top of fountfui Pisgah stood 
 Moses, the man of God, who faithful led 
 The wandering tribes, permitted thence to view 
 That rest so long desir'd, and now denied 
 By special interdiction, for his sin 
 At Meribah. The palms of Jericho 
 He saw, and Jordan, like a silver line 
 Parting the realm of Sihon from the lot 
 Of Benjamin. O'er Sibma, rich in vines 
 And flowers, he glanc'd, to where the utmost sea 
 Wash'd Dan and Ephraim. On the south he saw 
 Th' Asphaltic lake, dire monument of wrath 
 Eternal, and the heights of Lebanon, 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 145 
 
 Whose cedars seem'd to touch the bending clouds, 
 Skirted his northern view. Such wond'rous pow'r 
 Of vision God afforded, to console 
 Him he in love rebuk'd. Ere call'd to die, 
 He saw thee, promised Canaan, fertile then 
 Beyond all other lands ; and once again 
 Did he behold thee, when on Tabor's top 
 Glorious he stood, and communed with Him, 
 Seen in the burning bush, of whom he spake, 
 Prophetical Messiah, come to lead 
 Lost Israel to the ever-during rest 
 Of heav'nly Canaan. 
 
 May that rest be thine, 
 Young wanderer ! and thy earthly father's house, 
 Thy mother's fondness, and the social joys 
 Fraternal friendship yielded, be supplied 
 (Thy mortal journey done) by the large courts 
 Of thy eternal sire, whose love transcends 
 A mother's ; there, in fellowship most pure, 
 
 H 
 
146 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Mayst thou embrace thy brethren, the redeem'd, 
 Gather'd from every people, clime, and age. 
 
 Yet, though the path of active business, strewn 
 Profuse with festering thorns, till scarce appears 
 Pleasure's alluring rose, sternly commands 
 Attention, like a station'd centinel 
 To watch his hour, till happily dismiss'd 
 To sleep long wish'd ; affection then shall wake, 
 Restoring to his view his early joys — 
 The casual luxuries economy 
 Allow'd on festivals, the wise restraints 
 Which made indulgence happiness, the bliss 
 Of leisure slighted once. How exquisite 
 Does leisure seem to tossing weariness, 
 When the worn intellect and feverish frame 
 Refuse the rest they crave. Then shall return 
 Visions of early, unimpassion'd life, 
 Ere vain desire, like the curs'd Danaides, 
 From avarice or ambition's fountains drew 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. U7 
 
 Waters of discontent in broken urns, 
 Ere tasted, lost, Such is the lot of him 
 Who to those turbid streams alone applies. 
 
 Perchance, meanwhile to solitude resign q, 
 The mother muses on her absent boy, 
 
 Paints every danger, contumely, wrong, 
 Or sorrow he may feel. Whether beneath 
 Thy naval or thy martial banner plac'd 
 Britannia, he with honest zeal contends 
 
 For thy insulted rights, thy slander' d fame, 
 
 And menac d empire in far distant climes, 
 
 Scorch d by hot winds, by icy rigours chill d, 
 
 Tossing on stormy seas, by famine pinch d, 
 
 Groaning m sickness or captivity ; 
 
 Whether he braves the tempest which o'erwhelms 
 
 Empires and potentates, manners and laws ; 
 
 Or shelter d m Astrea s last retreat, 
 
 This guarded isle, he shares life's common ills/ 
 
 The monitors and heritage of man \ 
 
148 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Still with anticipating cares, more swift 
 
 Than wing'd misfortune, with alarming doubts 
 
 As malice vigilant, and sympathies 
 
 Than actual pain more piercing, more acute 
 
 Than the cold chills of wo, maternal love 
 
 Hovers round him whom hard necessity 
 
 From her endear'd embrace reluctant tore. 
 
 As in a summer's eve, when every gale 
 Reposes, and tranquillity enrobes 
 The western landscape, glowing in the beams 
 Of the declining sun, and studded rich 
 With mountains, woods, and farms, castles, and towers, 
 And grazing herds ; the limpid lake reflects 
 The scene more beautiful in fairy pride ; 
 Mountains, and woods, and farms, and castles rise 
 On the charm'd eye with softer hue, arrang'd 
 In groups more graceful. Thou, too, memory, 
 Canst, like the peaceful Naiad, gently draw 
 Thy silver pencil o'er elaps'd delights, 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 149 
 
 Till all is magic loveliness. Array'd 
 In every virtue, every fault disguis'd, 
 Oft on the day-dreams of affection steals 
 The god of her idolatry ; his form 
 Is grace, his visage beauty, all his deeds 
 Benignity, and all his accents truth ; 
 Till, like distracted Constance*, she exclaims, 
 " There ne'er was such a gracious creature born, 
 But the rude world will spoil him, care will dig 
 Deep furrows on his open brow, and grief 
 Fade on his cheek the rose. Nor long will hope 
 O'er his elastic frame a spirit breathe 
 Etherial. When the toil-worn man obtains 
 Short holyday from labour's prison-house, 
 He'll come to these embraces, faded, cold, 
 Gloomy, and tending earthward. Never, never 
 Shall I behold my pretty Arthur more." 
 Turn, self-tormentor, glorying in thy skill 
 To barb and poison sorrow's dart ; O turn 
 From criminal regrets, and idle fears, 
 * King John, act 3d, scene 3d. 
 
150 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 To hopes and duties, acquiescence calm, 
 
 And confidence serene. Still round thy child 
 
 Eternal love keeps vigil. Is his path 
 
 Dangerous ? The golden hairs which shade his brow 
 
 Are number'd all. Does envy haunt his step ? 
 
 " Envy is merit's shade*/' the useful check 
 
 Of pride high-soaring. In the arduous field 
 
 Of conflict he shall learn what love like thine 
 
 Imparts not. Youth must change its silken robe 
 
 For manhood's mail, or russet, and explore 
 
 Regions beyond its home-bound scenery, 
 
 Tho' now no Spartan lawgiver prescribes 
 
 The year of prime, to bind on stripling arms 
 
 The patriotic buckler, nor does youth 
 
 Drop in the forum his pretextile vest, 
 
 And o'er his limbs the manly toga fold. 
 
 Henceforth the mother o'er her absent sons 
 Must yield the curb of rule ; but active love 
 
 " * Envy does merit as its shade pursue. : ' 
 
 Pope's Essay on Mam. 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 151 
 
 Turns monitor ; or, like the guardian saint 
 In Romish legends, blasphemously deck'd 
 With attributes divine, offers for them 
 Morning and even the christian sacrifice 
 Of prayer, breath'd from a lowly heart contrite, 
 Yet confident of mercy : for she prays, 
 Not for the warrior's plumage, nor the hoards 
 Of unimparted wealth ; nor yet for fame, 
 Idol of towering minds. If she requests 
 Prosperity, 'tis meekly ; if she asks 
 For health, 'tis with submission to His will, 
 Who round the couch of sickness stations oft 
 Celestial comforters, and through the wounds 
 Of pain pours unguents, balmy to the soul, 
 More deeply gash'd by sin. In prayer she seeks 
 Riches unperishing, not earthly wreaths, 
 Or fading honours, but immortal crowns ; 
 Not freedom from distemper, but a life 
 Beyond time's bound extended ; not to pass 
 A day of fourscore years in worldly joys, 
 Envied and flatter'd, cheated and traduc'd, 
 
152 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 (Such the brief history experience tells 
 
 Of human happiness) but to survive 
 
 The ruin of creation, to possess 
 
 Permanent bliss in full security, 
 
 To be belov'd of angels, and to hear 
 
 From Him, whose presence is beatitude, 
 
 This summons to eternal rest, " Well done, 
 
 Servant belov'd, come share thy Master's joy.'* 
 
 Nor blame the mother, who, if splendid parts 
 And vast acquirements, various, rich, profound, 
 Wisdom and truth, integrity and zeal, 
 Meet for the common welfare, or the praise 
 Of Him we serve — treasures by nature dealt 
 With spare economy ; if gifts like these, 
 United in her noble offspring, join 
 Their rare effulgence, O ! condemn her not, 
 Though she should supplicate with all the warmth 
 A patriot or a doting parent feels, 
 That fortune's sun may dissipate the mists 
 Of poverty, and give his mighty mind 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 153 
 
 Space for his pure ambition, holy, high , 
 Just in its means, and generous in its aims. 
 
 Nor wonder if, her ardent prayer fulfill'd, 
 She sits in modest privacy retir'd, 
 And gazes on his glory. Unalarm'd 
 By envy's hell-born imps, who fix their fangs 
 On his ascending greatness, she beholds 
 His dangers and his fame, reads his great deeds 
 In the glad eyes of myriads, hears the voice 
 Of nations chaunt his eulogy, not set 
 To measur'd strains, not the cold fulsome verse 
 Venality inscribes to pow'r, but words 
 Of sober truth and temper'd praises, breath 'd 
 By hoary sages, independent bards, 
 And warriors seam'd with honour's beauteous scar. 
 When such unite their pceans to applaud 
 The patriot's steady course ; when one bless' d isle, 
 Sav'd from contention's uproar, stands a shrine 
 For peace and freedom, charity and truth, 
 H5 
 
154 SEPARATION FttOM CHILDREN 
 
 Such attestations, while they truly note 
 
 Transcendant virtue, form the guerdon high 
 
 That crowns her toils. Poor are Golconda's mines, 
 
 Poor are the yielded sceptres of the world, 
 
 To her high aspirations, which demand 
 
 A nation's welfare, and a nation's love ! 
 
 And didst thou, Britain, 'mongst thy statesmen rank 
 One uncorrupted thus, and fortunate 
 In his first aim ; and midst thy matrons chaste, 
 Devout and faithful as the prophetess 
 Who in the temple sought her infant-lord ? 
 Hadst thou a widow'd mother, sprung from blood 
 Illustrious, and in spotless union bound 
 To him who tore the naval wreath of Spain, 
 And humbled martial tyranny and Gaul > 
 Consort of Britain's Chatham, I revere 
 Thy lot pre-eminent. Mother of him, 
 Who, rising as his father's orb declined, 
 Show'd in his dawn full splendour, and rush'd forth, 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 155 
 
 Rejoicing in his mighty power, to save 
 
 The people he espous'd. His genial rays 
 
 Fell e'en on those who curs'd him at the hearths 
 
 Guarded by him with safety's triple mound, 
 
 Where, bless'd with liberty, they grateful mark'd 
 
 The triumphs of oppression. Happiest thou 
 
 Of mothers, when the storm-beat statesman sought 
 
 Thy arms, best refuge from a clamorous world ! 
 
 Then thy kind smile refresh'd his weary soul, 
 
 And brac'd him to new labours. In thy groves, 
 
 Unvex'd by spleen, he ponder' d future schemes 
 
 Of England's glory, commerce, wealth, and fame, 
 
 Soothing thy pains with visions of renown, 
 
 Thy much-lov'd country's meed. Still to thy age 
 
 He gave the stinted leisure he denied 
 
 To folly's haunts, or pleasure's guilty bow'rs* 
 
 His greatness and his love, with blended beams> 
 
 lllum'd thy locks time-honour 'd, till beside 
 
 His sire in dust they rested. Britain, then, 
 
 Claim'd undivided the exalted heart, 
 
156 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Long with a mother shar'd. E'en in tby death 
 Bless'd was thy lot, call'd heav'nward while his arm 
 Had strength to prop thy dying head, his voice 
 Pow'r to console thee, and his pious hands 
 Firmness to close thine eyes ; ere yet his frame, 
 Worn by incessant toil, refusd the task 
 Sternly imposed by his unconquer'd soul, 
 Where all the Roman, all the christian* shone. 
 
 Rare was thy lot, O mother of the friend 
 Britain must long deplore ! Go, shew thy son 
 To the bright host of angels, habitants 
 Of purer worlds, where virtue, tried no more, 
 Triumphs for ever. In this toilsome world 
 Few through the labyrinth of public life 
 With " unblenched honour" walk. Ambition delves 
 A mine for av'rice, while her painted lures 
 
 * The last moments of Mr. Pitt, as described by the Bishop 
 of Lincoln, demonstrate that he clearly understood, and truly 
 revered, the principles of our holy religion. 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 157 
 
 Lead vanity to danger's precipice, 
 
 To foes a taunting proverb of reproach, 
 
 A grief to kindred, and to friends a shame. 
 
 And thou, whose prayers ungranted vainly ask 
 Male issue to support an ancient house, 
 Lament not though thy cheeks have never glow'd, 
 Flush'd by a son's renown. Reflect thy heart 
 Hath never yearn'd in anguish for his wrongs, 
 Nor felt the wound incurable, disgrace 
 Gives the maternal bosom, while it goads 
 With scorpion lashes the detected knave, 
 The venal statesman, or the coward-chief. 
 
 Nor envy thou her lot, whose fruitful womb 
 Nurtured an infant-hero. Seest thou not 
 How pale her cheeks ? Long watchings made them pale ; 
 While many a night sad fancy chain'd her soul 
 To danger's coursers, hurrying her along 
 Through battles, sieges, storms, with him she lov'd. 
 
158 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Lift the green laurels which a grateful realm 
 Bind round her brows, and thou wilt see they hide 
 Deep furrows, grav'd by care. Observe her kneel 
 Beneath the waving banner, glorious pledge 
 Of victory, and thou mayst see her sighs 
 Lift its proud folds, to tell thee she forebodes 
 New perils to her darling ; for her arms 
 Must ne'er detain him whom his country's voice 
 Again invites to dangers and to fame. 
 
 O bless that heaven, which bade thy duties walk 
 In paths more tranquil, while beneath thine eyes 
 The gentle forms of female innocence 
 Gradual mature ; nor intermit thy cares ! 
 There may thy labours reap more certain fruit, 
 Proportion'd to thy culture and thy skill. 
 Chief be those labours trebled at the hour 
 When sportive Cupid makes the female heart 
 The mark of cruel archery. Around 
 Gay, unfledg'd beauty, flitting from her nest. 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN'. 159 
 
 Gambols the coxcomb-daw ; and o'er her head 
 The kite, foul ravisher, in guileful wheels 
 Observant sails, and points her for his prey ; 
 While the deluded victim plumes her pride 
 With his mock reverence. Now comes the time 
 When caution and experience, matrons sage, 
 Shall be regarded as two gossip-crones, 
 Met to malign Lothario, though his mien, 
 His gay habiliments, and courteous speech, 
 Bespeak his virtues, like his form, divine. 
 Now comes the time when fancy, us'd to smile 
 At love-tales, shall turn serious, and discern 
 They are most pitiful ; when gay content, 
 Wont to point scornful at the desperate maid 
 Who angled on a beetling precipice 
 For Clodio's callous heart, till her own peace 
 Sunk irremediable in depths of wo, 
 Shall deem such conquest feasible, and point 
 Her small artillery-glances, shot from eyes 
 With silken fringes shaded, ambuscades 
 
160 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Of smiles, and becks, and pretty frowardness, 
 Which o'er the face of conscious beauty glide 
 Like lucid clouds o'er Cynthia : all to win 
 That tower, the heart of man, impregnable, 
 Save when inverting fable Danae chang'd 
 Gains in a shower of gold reluctant Jove. 
 
 From beauty's open'd blossom to its prime 
 Let fond maternal vigilance on guard 
 Sit patient. These are hours of high import, 
 Which, on the future, stamp the deep impress 
 Of evil or of good indelible : — 
 As we from evening learn the coming day, 
 And in a night portending storms behold 
 Sol on his western couch, o'er-canopied 
 With vapours murky purple, sullen red, 
 And dusky grey, in turbid grandeur roll'd, 
 Changing at every glance, while far above, 
 Like snowy mountains, rise the clouds convolved, 
 With rain or tempest charg'd. Unlike the scene 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. \6l 
 
 When glorious Phoebus with resplendent hues 
 Blazons his setting car; o'er half the heavens, 
 Reflected from the east, a splendour glows 
 Vivid, yet tranquil, of supernal worlds 
 It seems an antepast, enkindling hope 
 Of fruitful seasons, and of rural joy. 
 Thus ominous, round Hymen's altar float 
 Portents, by love maternal well discern' d, 
 Who, like Cassandra, tells the sure event, 
 In vain predicted, and too late deplor'd ; 
 When he who fawn'd turns tyrant, and reveals 
 His latent self, false, treacherous, severe, 
 Jealous of rule, yet most unmeet for power, 
 Vices late gloss'd by courtesy o'erstrain'd, 
 Or mock hilarity, the gala-garb 
 Of sad remorse, long us'd in moody rage 
 To tear its russet gabardine at home. 
 
 Happy the maid who holds in silken bands 
 A generous heart, by fortune unallur'd, 
 
102 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 By female arts unvanquish'd ! Happy, too, 
 The mother who beholds, in kindred souls, 
 Congenial virtues waken mutual love! 
 Her anxious labours, wishes, pray'rs, and hopes, 
 Tended to this ; for this she gave her hours 
 Industrious, building firm the structure fair 
 Of grace, and beauty, and immortal truth. 
 Come, then, enjoy thy labour ; come, and crown 
 With Hymen's wreaths thy child! Content, resign 
 Pre-eminence in that soft heart where late 
 Thou wast supremely lov'd. Forbear to mourn, 
 Tho' the dear partner of thy summer-walks 
 And winter-musings, giv'n to other cares, 
 Gilds v>ith brief visits the secluded bow'r, 
 Where thou sitt'st lonely, pra\ing for her weal, 
 Or fashioning some household web, design'd 
 To ease her duties. Hospitable zeal 
 Shall be the harbinger of her approach, 
 And love and transport the young cherubs hail 
 Whom she shall lead to print thy faded cheek 
 
SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. \6S 
 
 With rosy kisses. Jealousy, avaunt ! 
 
 Shame not a mother's noble tenderness, 
 
 Tho' the soft glances of connubial love, 
 
 From thy pale brow reverting with a sigh, 
 
 Seek solace in the fond protecting glance 
 
 Of him thy daughter's wedded lord, whose arm 
 
 Shall stay her fainting steps, when she attends 
 
 Thy honour'd relics to the house of death, 
 
 And hears thy requiem chaunt£d. What shall call 
 
 Her fluttering spirits from the grave, to which, 
 
 As to a sealed casket, she entrusts 
 
 Thy sacred form, save a lov'd husband's voice, 
 
 Or waitings of her infant- babes, who shriek 
 
 Because their mother mourns ? O ! rather lift 
 
 Thy voice, and praise the wisdom which assigns 
 
 To perishable man successive loves, 
 
 To sooth him when the guardians of his youth 
 
 Assume their robes immortal. Thus he grows, 
 
 Not like deciduous trees in northern climes, 
 
 Through whose bare branches howls the winter-storm. 
 
l6h SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 But like the golden orange in the groves 
 
 Of Lusitania, or th' Idumean palm, 
 
 The opening blossoms and the ripen'd fruit 
 
 Loading at once his bending boughs. O man, 
 
 Favour'd of Providence, and truly blest, 
 
 If in these riches of domestic love 
 
 Thine eye discerns the mercy which supplies 
 
 What thy frail state and varying wants require ! 
 
 And blessed, too, the mother who has taught 
 In early life her children to obtain 
 Those fruits of paradise, which ev'n on earth 
 Yield nutriment divine — religious hope, 
 And holy peace, and pious gratitude. 
 For this, while with the ashes of her sires 
 Her withering form dissolves, ages unborn 
 Shall nurse th* implanted virtues of Iter stock, 
 And with her features, fortune, name, possess 
 Her angel-dower of moral excellence, 
 And Christian sanctity; gifts which the worm, 
 
SEPARATION FROi\f CHILDREN. l6S 
 
 Destroyer foul, consumes not, nor the rust 
 Of time devours. Beside the marble bust 
 Which marks where venerable goodness waits 
 TV archangel's call, tradition loves to sit 
 And chronicle her deeds ; while round her tomb 
 Stand her descendants, taught from infancy 
 To lisp her honoured name, fondly to gaze 
 On the priz'd semblance of her gracious form, 
 The heir-loom of their honours, and to prize 
 Relics of tasle, or industry, or art, 
 Fruits of well-hoarded hours. For, while her mind 
 Her higher cares contemplated, her hands 
 Pursu d Arachne's toils. Those higher claims 
 Speak in the record of her blameless life, 
 Trac'd by her pen in modest characters, 
 Inscribed to those she lov'd *. Holy and pure 
 Is thy remembrance, virtue, though renown 
 Plant laurels on the warrior's grave, and wreaths 
 With bay the slumbering bard — the mother's urn 
 * Alluding to the letters of Lady Rachel Russel. 
 
166 SEPARATION FROM CHILDREN. 
 
 Shall claim more dear memorials ; gratitude 
 
 Shall there abide ; affection, reverence there 
 
 Shall oft revolve the precepts which now speak 
 
 With emphasis divine. The pious tear 
 
 (For tears must fall) like heavenly dew shall nurse 
 
 A growth immortal. For thy mandate, death, 
 
 Which o'er the separating waters calls 
 
 The Christian mother, hallows while it ends 
 
 Her blessed toils, seen in the fair renown 
 
 Of those she fed with wisdom. Sooth'd and charm'd 
 
 By visions grateful to maternal pride, 
 
 She who, inspir'd by poignant feeling, chaunts 
 
 A lay to mothers welcome, drops her lyre 
 
 To muse upon a plain sepulchral stone 
 
 O'er her own ashes laid, and the dear forms, 
 
 Who, bending, wash it with their filial tears. 
 
IIHO MOm ^OITAHAMS 
 
 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Address to Spring. That season renews the remembrance of 
 early friends. Poetical disappointments. Invocation to 
 Fancy, requiring her to describe maternal sorrows. Death 
 of an amiable daughter in childbirth. Long protracted 
 sufferings of one who languishes under a hopeless disease. 
 Death of a widow's son by fever; of two brothers of dif- 
 ferent characters and fortunes by consumption. Sorrow 
 may take a more painful shape than death. Anguish of 
 the mother of a courtezan. Similar distress of one reduced 
 to poverty by a spendthrift-son. Portrait of an aged 
 mother who educates her grandchildren, orphans of an 
 officer. Story of a mother who attended an amiable 
 daughter through the miseries incident to an imprudent 
 and clandestine engagement, which ended in insanity. 
 Grief of a lady for an only son who fell in battle. Dread- 
 ful anxiety of those who know not the fate of their Children, 
 instanced in the parents of the crew of the Grosvenor, of 
 those who fell into the hands of Hyder Ally, and those 
 who were massacred at Ceylon. Address to Britain to at- 
 tend to the religious improvement of her foreign posses- 
 sions. Beneficial effects of such a measure. A mother's 
 terrors would thus be lessened for the safety of her sons 
 who embark on distant expeditions. Secure state of do- 
 mestic society, when Christianity is universal. Old age 
 and death of the mother of a virtuous family : probably 
 may be changed into a guardian-angel. Conclusion. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 As, by short rest refresh'd, the woodland hind 
 Strikes the firm oak with repercussive blows 
 More vigorous, thus the weary Muse suspends, 
 And thus renews her toils. Long time she watch'd 
 Spring's lingering chariot, who, with timid hand, 
 Slow braided her faint garlands, while her realm, 
 Wasted by winter, moura'd : the lengthen'd hours 
 Refus'd to chase the tyrant, who still cail'd 
 His sleety hail, his eastern blights, his storms 
 Of snow, overwhelming in one dazzling waste 
 Creation, burying deep fodder and flock, 
 Calamitous to thriftless husbandry, 
 To gay imagination's fairy host 
 Destructive ; for nor Pisces nor the Ram 
 Allow'd one genial glow, and Taurus pac'd 
 O'er half his circuit, ere his starry horns 
 I 
 
170 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Pierc'd the cold vapours. Oft I ask'd the sud, 
 Art thou the same bright substance now thou hang'st 
 On Hyems* car a glittering isicle, 
 As when exhausted mortals, mid the reign 
 Of burning Sirius, pant beneath thy beams ? 
 At length those beams burst forth, with carol loud 
 Of birds, with low of grateful flocks, with flowers 
 Impatient rising from their frost-bound beds. 
 Nature salutes the day-star, and invokes 
 Exulting man to give her raptures tongue. 
 Eager he rushes to his rural toils, 
 Impracticable late ; the glittering share 
 O'er the brown fallow glides in nieasur'd rows ; 
 The vegetable stores for beast and man 
 Strike their firm roots in the nutritious earth, 
 Aud court the balmy gales which round thy throne, 
 O Spring ! dance jocund. Dear is thy return ; 
 Welcome, sweet May ! thy wreaths * ; for now thou 
 As in thy ancient pomp, the fruitful bride [com'st, 
 * Written during the remarkable May of 1808. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 171 
 
 Of happy Greece, or Sicily renown'd, 
 
 When nymphs and shepherds to the Dorian pipe 
 
 Danc'd, and with flowers adorn'd thy mimic queen. 
 
 O long desir'd and lovely ! at thy call 
 
 Nature spontaneous quickens into leaf, 
 
 Herbage, and floral bloom. Each day, each hour, 
 
 She doffs her sombrous hue. Now the swoli'n bud 
 
 But scarcely tints the hawthorn hedge ; but soon 
 
 In ample vegetation she invests 
 
 The sycamore umbrageous, and the oak, 
 
 Monarch of woods, who waits till he beholds 
 
 His naked subjects clad, ere he assumes 
 
 His proud regalia. Hail, benignant May ! 
 
 For now thou com'st not wayward, but with smiles 
 
 Of sunny warmth, and gently dropping tears. 
 
 And balmy sighs, seeking to heal the wounds 
 
 Thy elder sisters gave the mourning earth. 
 
 Let universal love now hymn the reign 
 
 Of universal beauty, hill and lawn 
 
 Confess her power, the chaunt of nightingales, 
 
172 MATERNAL SORROWS'. 
 
 And the lark's carol echo it aloud ! 
 Nor storms nor dangers now invade the reign 
 Of evening, under whose grey awning rove 
 The lover and the poet, each entranced 
 In ecstasies, the scorn of grosser souls. 
 Light journeys northward ; now her radiant car 
 Scarce dips in th' arctic wave, the bright reflex 
 Pierces the curtain'd tent where darkness lies, 
 And shooting upward to the pole-star, warms 
 Gelid Arcturus, and the twinkling state 
 Of thron'd Cassiope. Far in the south 
 The envious moon mourns her diminish'd reign, 
 Complaining Phoebus has usurp'd the night ; 
 Nor waits he now till morning's dewy hand 
 Sprinkles with pearls his ringlets, ere he hastes 
 To pale his sister's splendours. Like the moon, 
 Pensive and sad, I sicken at the blaze 
 Of summer's pomp etherial ; for she notes 
 Another year stolen ftom the brief extent 
 Of my frail being, on whose lapsd events 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. *?3 
 
 I gaze, as from a hill some traveller 
 
 Looks on the cities, mountains, plains, or fens, 
 
 Kis pilgrim-feet have trod to pass no more. 
 
 Thus over half a century I muse 
 
 Pensive, of many, a toilsome hour demand 
 
 Its tribute, while with bitter tears I trace 
 
 The evanescent forms of faded joys, 
 
 Sitting like phantoms o'er the numerous graves 
 
 Of former friendships, of attachments dear, 
 
 Treasures of early youth, ere interest chill'd 
 
 Th' impassion'd heart, and bade it speculate 
 
 Before it lov'd. Autumnal life affords 
 
 No fruits like these ; but many a death-storm* rose, 
 
 And swept the blossoms, whose luxuriance seem'd 
 
 To promise mellow hangings to my age, 
 
 And vigour to my Muse. For she could sing 
 
 Deftly, when partial Lycid lingering hung 
 
 O'er her quaint harp, attun'd the chord, and smil'd, 
 
 * " The death- storm rose, and swept her to the tomb. 1 ' — 
 
 William Spenctr's Year of Sorrow. 
 
1/4 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Inspiring hope, or, with congenial strains, 
 
 Awoke to ecstasy the song he lov'd. 
 
 Ah ! when she struck that harp, with cypress crown'd, 
 
 O'er Lycid's grave *, or learn'd the minstrel's song, 
 
 By him so valued, in the silent halls 
 
 Of Arundel, what audience met she ? None. 
 
 Fashion beheld the hearse of matchless worth 
 
 Glide by unnotic'd, and Alicia mourn'd 
 
 Her father's crimes to cold, unpitying hearts. 
 
 Nor Sparta's lofty matron, when she bound 
 
 The cuirass on her panting boy, receiv'd 
 
 The tears of British mothers, call'd to yield 
 
 Their darlings to like toils. No radiant dreams 
 
 Of fame's bright palaces, immortal wreaths, 
 
 Or tuneful praise, now sooth me. Round my brow 
 
 The night-shade creeping sheds th' effluvia dire 
 
 Of envy or of spleen, to thee, sweet Muse, 
 
 Deadly ; and o'er the lay unheard, unlov'd, 
 
 * The poems here alluded to are in the 3d volume of this 
 author's poems and plays. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 175 
 
 The numbing poppy of oblivion steals, 
 Fatal alike to songstress and to song. 
 
 O bard of plaintive Mulla, to whose pipe 
 The graces danc'd *, crowning with flowers the maid 
 Much honour'd with thy love, didst thou complain— 
 Thou who, high seated in the gorgeous shrine 
 Of phantasy, delightest every age — 
 Didst thou complain that virtue and the Muse 
 Should be despis'd by those themselves had rais'd 
 To eminence ; who, like some aged tree, 
 Spreading their wide circumference, suffer none 
 To thrive beneath their boughs |! " O gentle bard ! 
 Not happier now the Muse's doom ; the oak 
 Not only smothers saplings, but denies 
 The gadding woodbine round his trunk to throw 
 Her tendrils weak, and ask support from storms. 
 
 * Spenser's Fairy Sueen, Book 6th, Canto 10th. 
 
 f The lines quoted are in Spenser's Poem on the Ruins of 
 Time, and allude to the neglect and injurious treatment which 
 
176 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Kings of the Delphian grove, our lofty bards 
 Disdainful note the humbler worshippers 
 Of Phoebus, tho' they decorate his shrine 
 With garlands of vale-lilies, cull'd beside 
 Th' Aonian fount, and wet with sacred dew. 
 
 Come, then, imagination, and involve 
 In thy dark stole my theme ! Marshal in pomp 
 The congregated sorrows that arise 
 To blast a mother's labours; envy, fraud, 
 The base seducer, the perfidious friend, 
 The wily enemy, th' oppressor stern, 
 
 he received from Lord Burleigh, after the death of Sir Philip 
 Sidney. Jt seems difficult to speak of an enemy in more candid 
 terms, or to utter a more harmless imprecation. 
 
 " O grief of gii^fs ! O gall of all good hearts ! 
 To see that virtue should despised be 
 
 By those who ficst were rais'd by virtue's parts, 
 And now bioad >pr adiog like an aged tree, 
 Let none shoot up that near them planted be. 
 
 O let not those of whom the Muse is scoru'd, 
 
 Alive or dead, be by the Mu=e adoraVL" 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 177 
 
 Forget not, for along the path of life 
 
 Like ravening wolves they prowl. Bring, too, the train 
 
 Of poverty; bring unsuccessful toil, 
 
 Neglected virtue, and defeated hope. 
 
 Nor yet omit the canker'd produce sown 
 
 By him, man's enemy, in hearts prepar'd 
 
 For the good seed of grace. O grief most sharp 
 
 To her indeed a mother ! Chiefly call 
 
 The army of disease, and death its king, 
 
 Riding triumphant o'er the fallen race 
 
 Of Adam, vanquish'd by his scythe-arm' d car. 
 
 Come, strew with flowers the bridal-path, and wake 
 The village-bells, to tell with merry peals 
 Maria's nuptials*, lovely, chaste, and young; 
 Nobly descended, royally allied, 
 A widow'd mother's comforter and friend, 
 Of Waldegrave's stem fair scion to ingraft 
 
 * Lady Maria Micklethwaite, only daughter of the Countess 
 of Waldegrave. 
 
 I 5 
 
17S MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Its blood and virtues on some honour'd house, 
 
 Worthy such high affiance. At the shrine 
 
 Of sweetness, goodness, truth, love bow'd, nor long 
 
 Was Hymen absent ; but the cypress bud* 
 
 Mix'd in his roseate wreaths. One year revolves : 
 
 The village bells now toll the funeral-knell ; 
 
 The groves of Beeston, that with pride receiv'd 
 
 Their angel-habitant so late, now hang 
 
 Their solemn umbrage o'er the cavalcade 
 
 Of death, slow pacing where Maria erst 
 
 Shone like a vernal morn. Ah ! what remains 
 
 Of hopes so brilliant, of deserts so high, 
 
 To sooth the widow 1 d bridegroom, or console 
 
 A matron vers'd in wo ? Yon infant-boy — 
 
 Whose birth records his mother's death, the heir 
 
 Of these domains, beneath whose shade he sports — 
 
 Inquires why he is pitied, and what means 
 
 Maternal love, a tie to him unknown. 
 
 * cc And in his garland, as he stood, 
 You might discern a cypress bud." 
 
 Milton's Elegy on the Marchioness of Winchester. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 179 
 
 So when the fall'n Emathian race through Rome 
 Walk'd in captivity, a dolorous band, 
 Young Perseus, laughing in his nurse's arms, 
 Seem'd to enjoy the triumph. Ruthless hearts, 
 Who mock'd a king in chains, yearn'd to behold 
 The sportive babe, unconscious of his wrongs, 
 Enjoy the pageantry which told his doom, 
 A slave, an orphan, not Achaia's lord. 
 
 Swift flew the fatal shaft, whose dire arrest 
 Clos'd young Maria's brief and blameless joys. 
 But oft man's fell destroyer o'er his prey 
 Reluctant seems to stand, as if he felt 
 For his submitting victim, orallow'd 
 A mother's feeble anguish to restrain 
 His mace descending on a prostrate slave. 
 Long hours of sad suspense has she endur'd 
 Who in her patient daughter sees the course 
 Of some severe distemper undenVd, 
 That o'er life's morning waves its ebon wing> 
 
180 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 And strews the couch of innocence with thorns 
 Of torture and despair Fale as a form 
 Of marble, as a martyr meek, devout 
 As the rapt seraph, to whose converse high 
 Her holy hopes aspire, year after year 
 The sufferer lies, sees but the shaded sun 
 Through her veil'd window glimmer, to denote 
 The day from night. Of life she nothing knows, 
 Save that to live is pain ; of the gay world, 
 Man's busy theatre, no gorgeous scene, 
 Except what some fair sister softly paints 
 At hours of partial ease, in hopes to wake 
 A sickly smile. Of nature's beauteous face 
 She steals a glimpse in one short annual round, 
 To visit every neighbouring shrub, whose form 
 Memory depictur'd to her sleepless eyes. 
 She marks how they have flourish'd, while to her 
 The genial seasons and the rapid hours 
 Brought sure returns of pain, condemn'd to wear 
 All forms but that which mercifully ends 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. JS1 
 
 The toil of sufferance. Yet content to live, 
 Tho' looking oft at death, resign'd and calm, 
 She languishes in patient cheerfulness, 
 Without one murmur ; for beside her lies 
 A sovereign cordial, to whose healing balm 
 She oft applies intent, and, mid her throes, 
 Seeks in the book of God assurance firm 
 Of regions, at whose joyful bourn disease 
 And lassitude their rausom'd victims yield. 
 
 With love untir'd, with hopes defeated oft, 
 Yet still renew'd, the tender mother bends 
 O'er the dear girl, oft willing to resign 
 Her innocent to God ; as oft, when ease 
 Relaxes the strain'd muscles, vainly deems 
 Misery hath spent her shafts, repose will heal 
 What fierce distemper tore ; th' untasted joys 
 Of health will light upon the wondering raaid, 
 Most grateful for that treasure libertines 
 Throw from their spendthrift hands ; that gem, unpriz ? d ; 
 
182 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Which sparkles in the ruddy beggar's eye, 
 Who, thankless for the blessing, little wrecks 
 What for Potosi's mine were cheaply sold. 
 
 Nor, tho' from fragile womanhood more oft 
 The passive virtues claim their tribute hard, 
 Of meek endurance, is athletic man 
 Exempt from sickness. Oft his sinewy frame 
 In prime of vigour feels the burning shaft 
 Of pestilence ; delirious falls, and dies 
 Ere med'cine, like Plantagenet's chaste bride, 
 With healing lip can cool the poison'd wound. 
 So fell a youth of kindred blood, who liv'd 
 A mother's dearest hope, and dying wrung 
 Her heart with sharpest pangs. Like her of Nain, 
 She was a widow, friendless, feeble, old ; 
 Like her, the bier where all her treasure lay 
 She foliow'd ; neighbours, kinsfolk also wept 
 To see her sorrows ; but no hand divine 
 With touch miraculous the funeral stay'd, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 183 
 
 Restor'd the festering sleeper, gave him power 
 
 To burst his cearments, to exchange the grave's 
 
 Deep solitude for his fond mother's arms, 
 
 And with renew'd existence bless that life 
 
 His death would close. Yet, William, thou shalt rise 
 
 When death's last dart is hurl'd ! A voice divine 
 
 Spake to thy mother too, in whispers sweet, 
 
 " Weep not, be comforted. All who believe 
 
 In me shall, at my summons, quit their graves ; 
 
 I am the resurrection and the life." 
 
 O promise dear to man, whether he sinks 
 Subdued by age, like ripen'd corn, or falls 
 By sudden stroke, or gradually o'erthrown 
 By hectic, deadly as the fatal juice 
 Of pois'nous mineral or herb, the pest 
 Of Britain, thus in early prime deprived 
 Of many a gallant son and daughter fair. 
 So fell two brothers, from a mother sprung 
 Whose earthly course soon clos'd, consign'd to heav'n 
 
1S4 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 The infant-pledges of connubial love, 
 
 With many a blessing, and with many a pray'r. 
 
 Oce, like the plant from which it sprung, refill 'd, 
 
 Gentle, and elegant, preferr'd the path 
 
 Of peaceful life, nor felt ambition's fires, 
 
 Save when the Muses to his raptur'd view 
 
 UnveiPd the glorious world of phantasy, 
 
 Peopled with radiant forms ; or nature deck'd 
 
 In vernal or autumnal mantle, ask'd 
 
 His imitative pencil to describe 
 
 Her glowing beauties and majestic port. 
 
 He sigh'd not for the plumage of renown, 
 
 The golden chains of avarice, or the mask 
 
 Of meretricious joy. Holy and high 
 
 His aims aspir'd ; the converse of the wise, 
 
 The friendship of the virtuous. In their haunts 
 
 Swift flew his social hours ; there gently blaz'd 
 
 The modest radiance of ingenious taste, 
 
 Wit's playful coruscations, and the rays 
 
 Of sentiment and feeling, prone to gild 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 185 
 
 Beauties the world discerns not. Omens these 
 Of honour, and integrity, and sense, 
 And manly sweetness, when maturing time 
 Ripens these fruits of heaven. Ah! false presage ! 
 Peruse yon path- worn stone ; it tells a tale 
 Simple and sad : the mother's grave unclos'd 
 Its portal to receive her elder born 
 In manhood's early prime, and wak'd anew 
 In the fond father and the husband's breast 
 The pangs of separation. Hast thou seen 
 The fruit exotic, parch'd by noxious blasts, 
 Keen frosts, or fervid suns, shed its sweet flowers, 
 And aromatic leaves, decline and die, 
 Mocking the florist's care ? So droop'd, so died 
 Ingenuous Thyrsis; his flee form, cfispos'd 
 By slender elegance, wither'd and shrunk 
 Like the dried sapling. In his glist'ning eyes, 
 Shaded with long dark fringes, shone a beam, 
 Caught from the glories of that purer world 
 To which he hasten'd. His expressive face, 
 
ISO MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Where all tbe generous passions smil'd or frown d, 
 Flush'd with an hectic glow, or icy pale, 
 Spoke surer than the death-watch, " Flesh is grass, 
 And human beauty but a short-liv'd flower." 
 
 Fair flower! thy native fields which nurs'd thy bloom 
 Received thy ashes; there the fair renown 
 Of thy untainted manners still remains 
 Amid thy playmates, family, and friends. 
 Thy gentle spirit left a world untried, 
 Pure from defilement, and to guile unknown. 
 
 But not his native province, nor the meads 
 Of peaceful Albion, rich in bliss, detain 
 The younger brother. He, with vast delight, 
 Reads of the nations where Pactolus flows 
 O'er beds of golden sands, of mountain-streams 
 That tear the diamond from its bed, of shores 
 Spangled with pearls, the gales of Araby 
 Breathing odorous balms, of citron groves, 
 
MATERNAL SOBKOWS. . 187 
 
 Pomegranate mounds, and where th* anana shoots 
 In deep ravines, loading the perfum'd air 
 With satiating sweet. He hears of realms 
 O'er which the genial sun rides through a sky 
 Of azure unobscur'd ; where by the spring, 
 For ever dress'd, nature regales each sense 
 With full delight ; where life is ecstasy, 
 Devoid of care : nor can the scowling mien 
 Of giant-danger, lurking in the storm, 
 The hungry lion, the insidious snake, 
 The bloody cannibal, or tyrant foe, 
 Pall the impetuous wish which bids him prove 
 These fair Hesperian tales. Nor other plans 
 Delight him now ; for on his youthful cheek 
 Flames expectation, while propitious gales 
 Waft the deep-freighted ship in which he goes 
 To vast Cathay, a world distinct and strange; 
 Nor less by produce, manners, laws, and forms, 
 Than seas immense, divided from our own, 
 
188 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Now, after twice ten moons have wan'd, behold 
 With gay carousals and loud shouts, the crew 
 Salute their native country. On the shore 
 lulus leaps, and to his shipmates waves 
 His lifted bonnet; then, with jocund step, 
 Explores his home, a pastoral hamlet, girt 
 With hills of richest verdure, there to tell 
 Of dangers, wonders, and achievements strange. 
 Amid the circle of his early friends 
 He sits sole orator ; the less'ning lamp 
 W T astes unperceiv'd, and hours umiotic'd glide. 
 Yet neither rich Brazil, the cape of storms 
 First by De Gama pass'd, nor India's seas, 
 Scarce curl'd by spicy gales, nor arid winds, 
 That scath Sumatra's burning valleys, long 
 Detain his narrative. He hastes to tell 
 Of the tierce typhon, whirling in its rage 
 Th' unshrouded ship, while through the naked poles 
 Destruction howling snaps her stately mast, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 180 
 
 And crushes her strong sides. The guiding helm 
 No more directs her course; two nights and da^s 
 She drives before the storm ; th' exhausted crew, 
 High perch'd on barren Hainau's craggy rocks, 
 B< hold death menacing, and almost wish 
 To rest their weary limbs in the repose 
 Of his still empire ; for incessant toil 
 Withers ev'n British nerves, and the big tear 
 Fell o'er thy check, lulus, as thy tongue 
 Describ'd those woes. Far different was thy look, 
 Far different felt thy audience, when the tale 
 Of Gallia's boastful pirate, sly Linois, 
 Mighty in narrative, berame thy theme ; 
 When huge Marengo and her consort- hulks, 
 Laden with plunder, near Macao's isle, 
 Patient in rapine, lusk'd. Full many a sun 
 Saw the raw shipmates exercis'd in arms, 
 And many a moon beheld the chieftain wrapp'd 
 In waking dreams of fortune and renown 
 Purloin'd from Britain, when her peaceful ships, 
 
130 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Bearing the bartered treasures of Cathay 
 
 In their deep holds, steer homewards, unprepared 
 
 For other conflict, save of seas and storms. 
 
 Behold, at length, the floating caravan 
 Girds like a line th' horizon's edge ; and now, 
 Approaching nearer, shows a wood of masts, 
 Dark'ning the ocean. Forth the vultures spring 
 To pounce upon their prey, but soon recoil ; 
 No mark of blandishment, surprise, or fear, 
 Th' advancing fleet betrays. Arrang'd for fight, 
 England's proud ensign at each mizen flies ; 
 The shrouds are mann'd with marksmen, and bold heart? 
 Give to the feebler implements of war 
 Force uncontroul'd. " They fled !" lulus cried ; 
 es The pride of France, her naval hero, he 
 Who fiird her vaunting chronicles with lies, 
 Fled from the trader, cumber' d with his stores, 
 And new to combat. How we mock'd the knaves, 
 Cheer'd them in scorn, defied them to return, 
 And menac'd them with plunder, chains, and death!' 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. ipi 
 
 Thus, with pleased retrospect, the gallant boy 
 Recounts his darings, and anticipates [ 
 New enterprise. He pants for trials hard, 
 To win bright fortune mid the conflict dire 
 Of warring elements, nor heeds the threat 
 Of mining sickness lurking in his veins; 
 Cold counsels he disclaims, nor droops his heart, 
 Till, sailiug 'neath the equinox, the rays 
 Of burning Phcebus drink his wasted strength. 
 Loth he resigns his customed watch, and pants 
 On his lone hammock for refreshing gales 
 To renovate his frame. Those gales shall rise, 
 Temper' d with India's balms ; her fruits shall cool 
 Thy fever' d lip, dear wanderer, pow'rless all 
 To stay the ravage of disease. Behold 
 The thrifty crew, intent on interest, land 
 The sick incumbrance on the shelvy isle 
 Of far Penang ; there lies he, lost to all 
 He knew or lov'd. No tender parent wipes 
 The death-dew from his brow ; no youthful friend 
 
19- MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Cheats with sweet converse the sad hours, that roll 
 
 Unvaried ; save, w hen at the custom'd bell 
 
 The dark Malay glides through the mournful wards, 
 
 And, cold himself to human feeling, deals 
 
 To every son of misery his dole, 
 
 And hears his plaints in silent apathy. 
 
 Ah, then, lulus ! on thy wakeful eyes 
 
 How T did the visions of thy former days 
 
 In sad succession steal; a father's love, 
 
 A father's precepts, and a father's woes, 
 
 Thriird thy brave heart with pangs not less intense 
 
 Than thy bright dreams of honourable wealth, 
 
 And eminence, and fame, closing so soon 
 
 Their fabling promise in a tale untold, 
 
 A life oblivious, and a death unmourn'd ! 
 
 Ofi turn'd thine eyes to the bare beach to catch 
 
 The passing sails of Albion ; oft thy thoughts 
 
 Cours'd with the much-lov'd voyagers through isles 
 
 Pregnant with life-restoring drugs, high capes 
 
 Fann'd by soft tepid gales, or colonies 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 193 
 
 Of generous, social Britons. Still despair 
 Swept the fair phantoms thence, and howling cried, 
 M Thou never shalt those happy seats behold, 
 The voice of love shall sound to thee no more." 
 
 Yet on his dying hour one joyful gleam 
 Shot radiant ; to the port a vessel steers, 
 The ship whose well-compacted sides sustain* rf 
 The typhon's rage, the crew which brav'd Linois, 
 His former comrades, fellow-sufferers, friends. 
 They rush into his arms, — the warm embrace 
 Renews his vital functions. " I shall live," 
 He cries, " to thank you. O convey me hence, 
 Bear me to my own hammock, where I swung 
 In China's seas, nor heard the falling mast, 
 Lock'd in sweet sleep ; there I shall sleep again, 
 Unvex'd by feverish dreams/' There didst thou sleep, 
 Ingenuous boy, and many a veteran wept 
 O'er thy still slumbers, destin'd to endure, 
 Till time resigns his empire to his sire. 
 
10| MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 He first thy chief, Lee Boo's own Wilson, fara'd 
 For sense and manly feeling, he assign'd 
 Christian and naval honours to thy corse ; 
 It lies in consecrated ground, but far 
 From kindred and from country. O'er thy grave 
 Waves the tall cassia, and the radiant bird 
 Of paradise there spreads its shaded plumes, 
 Spangled with emerald, amethyst, and gold. 
 
 Thus, with resistless tyranny, disease 
 Through different stations, characters, and climes, 
 Pursues his victims, and preventive care 
 Displays her shield in vain. Death ambushes 
 Amid the rosy garlands that entwine 
 The joyous bowl; and where with cautious fear 
 The sober student flies the gay carouse, 
 And shuns the form of danger, he intrudes ; 
 Shreds in the prophet's pottage deadly herbs*, 
 And mocks th' anxiety of her who aims 
 * 2 Kings, 4th chapter, 40th verse. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 195 
 
 To fence her children from the rav'ning grave, 
 By building care on care ; beneath their feet 
 It yawns, and earth demands the breathing dust, 
 Lent as a fragile tenement to man. 
 
 Nor do the woes which rive a mother's heart 
 With measur'd step still pace the path of death, 
 Like sable mourners at a funeral — 
 A form more horrible they oft assume, 
 And ask his shaft in mercy. Seest thou her, 
 Whose brightest mood is but a wintry moon, 
 Seen in a night of mist ? She dares not w 7 eep, 
 Nor call on sympathy, like those who yield 
 Their dearest offspring to their Maker's will, 
 By summons premature. 'Tis her first hope, 
 That prying curiosity (to her 
 
 Ev'n friendship takes that form) knows not the grief 
 Which, like th' Egyptian asp, in her heart's core 
 Has fix'd its fangs immutable. Her bane 
 Is a lost girl, a fair one, and betray 'd 
 
196 MATERNAL SOSROWS, 
 
 By beauty, weak credulity, and love ; 
 One who ne'er listen'd, tho' her warning voice 
 Pointed seduction as a wily snake 
 Gliding along the thicket, where, like Eve, 
 She lov'd alone to wander*, confident 
 Of strength, like her; a tempter also came, 
 Told a smooth tale, and triumphed. What remains 
 To the deluded victim of his arts ? 
 Tears and reproaches. Baby arms! he oft 
 Hath mock'd their puny wounds. Is he not rich, 
 Is he not noble ? Will the world assail 
 His fame, or high-born beauty lothe his arms, 
 Because a village-maid found his embrace 
 Contamination, ruin, and despair ? 
 No : he is censur'd with a gentle smile, 
 CalFd gay, but elegant, and good at heart, 
 And soon to be reclaimed. The different doom 
 Of her is misery ; a relentless sire 
 Denies her wrongs the shelter of a roof, 
 * Paradise Lost, Book 9th. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. \§7 
 
 Where yet dishonour never found abode. 
 In vain the mother weeps, intreats, persuades, 
 Harsh is the father, and the haughty girl 
 Turns desp'rate from despair. To folly soon 
 Guilt, bold, determined guilt succeeds; those charms, 
 So oft the mother's wish, a prelude oft 
 To bridal splendour and connubial wealth. 
 Are barter'd now to purchase scant support 
 For loth'd existence. In the haunts of shame 
 Her beauty fades ; sportive Euphrosyne 
 Adopts Megara's sullen brow, ill gloss' d 
 With smiles like those the Tyrian minion us'd, 
 Astarba*, when she drugg'd Pygmalion's bowl, 
 And pledg'd the draught of death. With such she leads 
 The victims she entrammels to partake 
 Her destitution, misery extreme, 
 Remorse, tho' deep, yet stubborn, which no touch 
 Of true repentance turns to comfort. Death 
 Is not to her a harbour from life's storm, . 
 
 * Telemachus, Book 8th. . 
 
ios 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 A refuge for the shipwreek'd ; 'tis the rack 
 
 On which obdurate wickedness must bide 
 
 Eternal wrath. So the sad mother knows, 
 
 And trembles to inquire if she has clos'd 
 
 Her earthly shames. So knows she when she kneels* 
 
 In prayer to heav'n, and for a sinner pleads, 
 
 Who never prays ; for her she supplicates 
 
 The axe may be suspended, tho' the tree 
 
 Bears nought but poison. Did she feel for this 
 
 A mother's throes, and cares, and hopes, and joys ? 
 
 O traitor man ! A gaudy equipage 
 
 Glides by in pomp ; the bridal-favours shine : 
 
 Scarce can she keep from curses. Yet, O God ! 
 
 Thou art most just, and to thy sanctuary 
 
 She creeps with tottering step, and for a while 
 
 In thy vast mercy loses sight of wo. 
 
 Who kneels beside her, in the faded garb 
 Of worn gentility, with cheek as pale, 
 And eyes more streaming? 'Tis a mother, brought 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 199 
 
 To bitter need by one she trusted most, 
 
 And dearest lov'd ; a child, an only son, 
 
 Once lord of mansions, woods, and pastures. She 
 
 Own'd but a widow's portion, which suffic'd 
 
 The modest wants of age and charity ; 
 
 A cultivated garden, a new book, 
 
 And social friend, were all, save the spare mite 
 
 To warm the frozen heart of penury, 
 
 Mourning in naked walls, which scarce shut out 
 
 The elements tempestuous, tho' they barr'd 
 
 Access of comfort, sustenance, and hope, 
 
 Till kind Euphrasia at the portal stood, 
 
 Heav'n's ministring angel, and with sweetness, such 
 
 As angels use to man, dealt provident 
 
 Economy's wise aids. Dry is the fount 
 
 From which theyflow'd, though, ere this rill was stopped, 
 
 The claims of self were checked. The garden first 
 
 Lost its rare plants, and literature mourn'd 
 
 One patron gone. No more the social friend 
 
 Found a warm welcome, and Euphrasia^ garb 
 
200 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Chang'd from fresh neatness, elegantly plain ; 
 
 To ill-assorted, threadbare relics, types 
 
 Of fallen dignity. Compell'd at length 
 
 By stern necessity to feed the calls 
 
 Of waste, that pelican who never spares 
 
 To gore a parent, blameable in nought 
 
 But kind indulgence, sad Euphrasia quits 
 
 The decent residence where first she wept 
 
 A husband's death, the village by her care 
 
 Improv'd, iuform'd, and fed. Her servants old 
 
 And inexpert, yet faithful, much she mourns 
 
 That she must leave them friendless, to contend 
 
 With age and want. Alas! if all were told, 
 
 Like suffering Guatimozin *, she could ask 
 
 If she repos'd on roses ; for her doom 
 
 Is yon small attic, clean, but cold and bare, 
 
 Where her own hands supply the offices 
 
 Her youth requir'd from many. Her delight 
 
 * The last sovereign of Mexico. See Robertson's America, 
 Book 5th. 
 

 MATERNAL SORROWS. 201 
 
 The daily ritual, when the social chimes 
 
 Of bells to church divert the reveries 
 
 Of lonely meditation, which will muse 
 
 On past and priz'd enjoyments, and thy sting, 
 
 Filial ingratitude; tho' the firm hands 
 
 Of patience, meekly folded on her breast, 
 
 Repress'd the murmurs of her throbbing heart, 
 
 And bade her tongue be silent, nor complain 
 
 Of poverty, neglect, or hate from him 
 
 She cherish'd with her blood, bore in her arms, 
 
 Sustain'd in childhood, watch* d in youth, and now, 
 
 Spite of her wrongs and his misconduct, loves. 
 
 Turn we from her to where, with feeble strength, 
 Yet much-enduring will, busy when age 
 Finds rest its dearest holy day — for noise 
 Is anguish, silence bliss — a matron tries 
 To rule a wayward group of vigorous imps, 
 Who ask a firm preceptor to restrain 
 Their overweening ardour. Generous blood 
 Requires more strict coercion than befits 
 K 5 
 
202 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 A wo-worn grandame, who with tears oft bathes 
 
 Her sprightly pupils, orphans of a sire 
 
 Who with misfortune struggled, till he fell 
 
 In Indostan, planting his country's flag 
 
 On Agra's distant walls. Yet was not war 
 
 His early choice. He tried, but tried in vain, 
 
 The peaceful walks of commerce and of arts. 
 
 By faithless friends deceiv'd, by patrons cold 
 
 Deluded and abandon'd, what remain'd 
 
 But in some distant region to explore 
 
 A milder doom than poverty and scorn ? 
 
 His wife, late wedded and much lov'd, refus'd 
 
 The shelter of his mother's narrow cot, 
 
 And shar'd his fortunes. O'er a world of waves 
 
 Sail'd the forlorn adventurers ; save her 
 
 Who own'd that narrow cot, they had no friend 
 
 To mourn their loss, or aid their miseries. 
 
 But ready was her aid, and deep her grief, 
 And vast the vacuum which their absence made 
 At her neat hearth, once social, lonelv now, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 203 
 
 And sad, save when the homebound fleet arriv'd, 
 Charg'd with the wealth of India, and to her 
 With treasures richer than Golconda's mines, 
 Purer than Mecca's balsam/ letters fraught olnil nl 
 With gratitude's warm tribute, sacred hoards 
 Of anxious love, and stores of confidence, 
 Disclosing strong integrity of aim, 
 And glorious magnanimity, which stay 
 The soul against the buffets of mischance, 
 Firm as the twisted cords which to her shores 
 Bind Britain's trident. These, Amelia, spread 
 In winter evenings on thy board, supplied 
 Thy best regale ; and when thou sat'st, fatigued 
 With noontide wanderings, on a mossy bank, bah 
 Screen'd from the fervid day-star, from the eye 
 Of observation screen'd, in these thou saw*st 
 A charm than summer lovelier; for they told 
 Of perils past, of labours well perform'd, 
 Endanger'd health restor'd, adversity 
 By prudence baffled, and a vista hewn 
 
204 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 By hope through fate's dark wilderness. " We soon," 
 
 He writes, M shall sail for England. Wisdom plans 
 
 A vast achievement, and my share of spoil 
 
 Will dower frugality with ample means. 
 
 Enlarge thy cot, my mother, for thy son 
 
 Will sit beside thee, and afford thine age 
 
 The help his youth experienc'd from thy love. 
 
 He brings a numerous family to join 
 
 His pious offices ; prepare thy heart 
 
 For a young grandchild, sporting in thine arms, 
 
 Winding its fingers in thy silver locks, 
 
 And with its ardent kiss closing thine eyes, 
 
 Dimm'd with the tear of joy." The narrow cot 
 
 Is soon enlarg'd, and rank'd in order due ; 
 
 The desks, and forms, and hammocks are prepar'd 
 
 For the young guests. They land, a sable train. 
 
 Where is your mother? (i Dead." Your father v, here? 
 
 " He died at Agra ; conquest crown'd bis sword, 
 
 But the lance piere'd him as he bravely tore 
 
 The crescent from her walls. We bring transcribe 
 

 MATERNAL SORROWS. 205 
 
 The general orders which decreed his corpse 
 A soldier's trophied grave. Our mother liv'd 
 To hear his fate, then sicken'd, and expir'd, 
 And left us friendless. She was weak of soul, 
 And should have staid to save the wealth our sire 
 Bought with his blood from Indian treacherv. 
 We liv'd among the natives, orphan-babes 
 Of those they hate as conquerors, but found 
 A generous Englishman, a friend, whose care 
 Preserv'd our little pittance. We embark'd 
 For England and for you. O weep not thus ! 
 We will be ever dutiful, and strive 
 To make you think of dear papa no more." 
 
 Yet on that father, on that man of woes, 
 Whose bones at Agra whiten, still her thoughts 
 Delight to dwell. She sees him in his boys ; 
 Such were his sports, his early gallantry, 
 His noble firmness. So he look'd and smil'd ; 
 But, O ! he lov'd her dearer, and escap'd 
 
206 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 The errors seen in them. Yet for their sake 
 She yields to live, and cherishes with care 
 Life's glimmering candle, in its socket sunk, 
 And verging on extinction. If she dies, 
 Who with such thrifty justice will expend 
 Their scanty stipend, with such tender care 
 Watch their exotic humours, or refine 
 Their souls to virtues worthy of their birth ? 
 For this she asks, what piety would else 
 Crave to resign, a life of care and toil, 
 111 suited to decrepitude's worn frame. 
 
 Yet, Muse, forget not in thy list of griefs 
 Amanda's sorrows. She, the blameless wife 
 Of rich Mercator, in her family 
 Blessing and bless'd. With every promise fair 
 They flourish'd ; but most lovely, most belov'd, 
 Louisa shone in beauty's early morn, 
 Gay, innocent, affectionate, the joy, 
 The pride of all. Soon was that morn o'ercast ; 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 207 
 
 O'er her fair cheek a sickly languor stole, 
 And the soft sighs which issu'd unobserv'd, 
 Contrasted by strained gayety, betray 'd 
 By its unapt disguise. Alone she rov'd, 
 Preferr'd the moonlight to the noon-day walk ; 
 Or, bending o'er her lute, unconscious humm'd 
 Some tender tale of love. With mirthful hearts, 
 Unstricken yet, her sportive sisters gib'd 
 Her alter'd manners, and in whispers vow'd 
 To tell the cause Amanda's anxious eye 
 Discern'd too plainly, that the canker love 
 Prey'd on her damask rose. Patient she staid, 
 Nor yet with zeal indecorous profan'd 
 The sacred haunts where maiden modesty 
 Conceal'd the preference to its blushing self, 
 Perchance but half reveal'd. And now her eye 
 Measures their youthful visitants, him first, 
 Henry of Avondel, their frequent guest, 
 Pvich, young, and gay, at whose unyielding heart 
 Tir'd Cupid empts his quivers ; unsubdu'd, 
 
208 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Tho' the bold huntress, fail Cloriuda, e'er 
 Pursu'd hirn buskin'd in the arduous chase, 
 And tahVd of Trip's and Ranter's feats; uncaught, 
 Tho' soft Errninia carv'd on the smooth beach 
 His name with true-love knots and flourishes; 
 And when she met his eyes, with side-long glance 
 Told how she lov'd him. Free the rover goes, 
 Dances with PolyineJe, with Mira sings, 
 Whispers kind nothings to each cheated maid, 
 And mocks the bait by many a skilful dame 
 Suspended o'er his manors. " Is it he/' 
 Amanda cries, " for whom Louisa pines, 
 At first ambition's dupe, then plung'd by love 
 In dungeons of despondence, where he hides 
 The recreant nymphs who volunteer their hearts ? 
 Her sisters say she loves him, and predict 
 Merit like hers can never love in vain. 
 Poor girls ! unskill'd to read the heart of man ; 
 Jhey little think how pride delights in power, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 203 
 
 And vanity displays th' Hesperian fruit 
 To tempt and cheat doting credulity." 
 
 Now the sage mother marks Louisa's face 
 When Henry enters. " Does it flush with shame ? 
 Do the unmeaning compliments which form 
 The current coin of life, gain from his tongue 
 A sterling value ? Does she shun his hand, 
 As if an adder bedded in his palm ? 
 Yet does her timid eye, when uuobserv'd, 
 In silent adoration on his face 
 Throw its rapt gaze ? If so, too true she loves, 
 And 'twere but self-delusion did she scoff 
 With jests misplac'd his manners and his mien ; 
 That were affection's feint, who, undisguis'd 
 But rarely speaks in bashful womanhood, 
 Till love to Hymen his fair captive yields." 
 
 i 
 
 Tis doubtful still, no kindling blush, no gaze 
 Of stol'n idolatry, no tremors chill 
 
210 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Betray her secret woes. Now rumour tells 
 
 Of Henry's marriage, an alliance high ; 
 
 Birth, beauty, fortune, all unite to crown 
 
 His envied bride. Her taste shall re-adorn 
 
 That ancient hall where pale Louisa's eyes 
 
 Have long been thought to fix. Her ample dower 
 
 (To all but waste superfluous) shall repair 
 
 The breaches wanton prodigality 
 
 Made in fair Avondel. Report shall tell 
 
 His happiness, and pity slightly name 
 
 The maid who lov'd him. Yet Louisa's cheeks 
 
 Reveal no traces of more frequent tears, 
 
 Nor wax they paler. She repeats with praise 
 
 The bridegroom's fondness, and the nuptia pomp ; 
 
 Pays her due gratulations, then returns 
 
 To solitude, and woos the nightingale. 
 
 c< Still droops my darling girl," Amanda cries, 
 " But not for wedded Heury. Does despair 
 Consume her blasted prime ? and yet a youth, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 211 
 
 Such as gray spinsters picture when they tell 
 The triumphs of their early beauty, bows, 
 And meets a cold denial." Much incens'd, 
 Mercator asks, " Can maiden pride demand 
 Offer more splendid, or fastidious taste 
 Require a nobler mind or finer form ?■" 
 Trembling at stern rebuke, the sobbing fair 
 Sinks in her mother's faithful arms. Her tears 
 Mix with the silent mourner's, while she craves 
 That confidence too long withheld, too long, 
 By scrupulous, high-minded delicacy, 
 Spar'd from solicitude, Louisa's eyes 
 Confess there is a secret, and implore 
 Forgiveness for a grievous fault, chastis'd 
 By sufferings exquisite. " Name not to me," 
 She cries, " the worth of Alcon, nor suppose 
 That the young heir of Avondel hath doom'd 
 My life to singleness. Along thy plains, 
 Fertile Bengal, my husband roams • for him, 
 Wedded in thoughtless childhood, and estrang'd 
 
112 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 By habit, time, and distance, flow these tears. 
 Ceaseless they bathe his pictured form, when grief 
 Seals every eye but mine, and the pale lamp 
 Directs me to the casket where I hide 
 The tokens of his early love ; for once, 
 
 mother ! sure he lov'd me ; and perchance 
 Not to neglect, but faithless elements, 
 
 1 owe his silence now." " His name, my child :" 
 Exclaims the faltering mother, as she strains 
 With reconciling fondness to her heart 
 
 The shivering, fainting culprit. " 'Tis a name 
 That will offend. My sire's inveterate foe, 
 Unworthy Raymond, who betray'd his trust, 
 And wroug'd his fame, gave birth to him I love, 
 To him I wedded. While a witless girl, 
 W T e at a kinsman's met. Romantic hearts, 
 Inflam'd by Romeo's wrongs, and Juliet's woes, 
 Taught us to love, and realize the tale, 
 He Montague, I doting Capulet. 
 Marriage would heal the breaches of our house, 
 

 MATERNAL SORROWS, 2i3 
 
 And from the brier of hidden love would grow 
 
 The rose of concord. So a youthful friend, 
 
 With seeming wisdom pleaded ; but, alas ! 
 
 O'er thy rebellious daughter's marriage-bed 
 
 The cypress and the willow wav'd. Regret 
 
 Is mine, and mine remorse, till death dissolves 
 
 The contract folly form'd. Yet, if thou canst 
 
 Protect me from my father's wrath, conceal 
 
 My wrongs, my woes. How would his honour brook 
 
 To hear his tempted daughter has been urg'd 
 
 To break recorded vows ; urg'd, too, by him 
 
 To whom she pledg'd them ! O ! I tell thee all, 
 
 Ev'n the last sorrow of this broken heart. 
 
 Raymond would give me liberty, resign 
 
 His title to some worthier suppliant, 
 
 Blest with paternal sanction. Love, he says, 
 
 And honour claim this sacrifice of self, 
 
 From hopeless, hVd despair. Can honour stoop 
 
 To license foul adultery, or love 
 
 Quit what it best prefers ? Couldst thou resign 
 
214- 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS, 
 
 Thy child, my mother ? In the guiltiness 
 Of my confess'd transgressions I dare ask, 
 If thou couldst cast me as an alien off, 
 To be beheld no more ? O press me still 
 To thy warm heart in silence, nor reply: 
 The sharp reproaches of thy pitying tears 
 Shootthrough my mortal wounds. Would heaven I ne'er 
 Had known a love, or trusted faith but thine !" 
 
 " O child for ever dear ! yet be th' offence 
 Of secrecy by confidence aton'd, 
 And trust thy father's wisdom, love, and care. 
 I will divulge thy story ; meet the burst 
 Of angry rage, and, when its transport ends, 
 (As quickly it will end in sorrow) lead 
 Thee to receive his blessing. It will drop 
 Like balm upon thy anguish, and his will 
 Shall guide thy future course/' Louisa yields ; 
 In palpitating agony she waits 
 The kind ambassadress, who soon returns, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 215 
 
 And brings the news of pardon. Half her woes 
 End at that sound ; but injur'd love prepares 
 Fresh sorrow ; nor will Hymen crown with peace 
 The inauspicious contract folly form'd, 
 And falsehood violates. Where wild excess 
 Revels in tropic regions, and bestows 
 Nature's best products on a sensual lord 
 Unworthy of her gifts, young Raymond's name 
 Was heard with detestation. Merciless, 
 Ev'n in the bow'r of wantonness, to those 
 Who fed his brutal appetites ; unjust, 
 Where he had strength to wrong, yet prone to bend, 
 Th' expectant sycophant of wealth and power. 
 Such was Louisa's husband ! His misdeeds 
 Came posting on a thousand couriers. Say, 
 To such a guardian should fond parents trust 
 Their pure, dejected daughter ? Tho' allur'd 
 By promis'd dow'r, and cheated in his hope 
 Of higher nuptials, Raymond woos her now 
 With tempting tales of eastern pomp, and vows 
 
2\6 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Oflove renew'd, and many a smooth excuse 
 For past unkindness. No : with lingering love 
 They clasp her close., and still delay the hour 
 Of separation, till her alter' d eye 
 In vacant stupor fix'd, or rolling wild, 
 Tells that the cup of misery is drain'd 
 Ev'n to its dregs ; and the fair maniac, freed 
 From sense of true misfortune, wanders now 
 Amid the visions of distemper' d thought. 
 Oft o'er the sea she sails, and welcomes oft 
 India's well-painted shores. In fancied state 
 She decks her hair with berries, as with gems, 
 Ascends her palanquin, and round her calls 
 Her tawny slaves, and tells the silver moon 
 To light her o'er the Ganges to her love. 
 Anon with rage she glows, tears from her head 
 The ornaments fantastic, furious beats 
 Her breast, and bids the tiger and the wolf 
 Say if their name is Raymond. Sinking soon 
 In sad exhaustion, with a feeble wail 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 2\? 
 
 She mourns her miseries, till sympathy 
 Is thriird with anguish. But attendant still 
 On all her woes, soothing each wild caprice, 
 Checking with trembling grasp her frenzied hands, 
 And pleading mild, when, save thyself, no friend 
 Durst bide her fury, thou, Amanda, still 
 For many a year didst o'er the sufferer watch, 
 And gain, what none but thou couldst gain, the pow'r 
 To rule her wanderings. As in infant life, 
 Thine eye could check her lapses, and thy pray'rs 
 Disarm her fury, till her wayward sense 
 In gentle error rested ; mild, composed, 
 And inoffensive, but persuaded firm 
 That Raymond still was faithful, and would come 
 When the calm seas permitted. All day long 
 She watch'd the winds, but still they never blew 
 Aright ; and still at eve the fleecy clouds 
 Saii'd o'er the wandering moon too swift. Yet hope 
 Would image the tranquillity denied 
 To her sick thought, and bid the future rise 
 L 
 
218 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Sacred (o peace and joy. With kindred ray 
 Hope gilds the labours of maternal love ; 
 Grateful for lessened ills, Amanda trusts, 
 Ere her eyes close in death, to see her child, 
 By misery made most dear, repay her care 
 With conscious gratitude, restored to peace, 
 To reason's heavenly ray again restor'd. 
 
 Nor were her pray'rs uugranted, tho' her eyes 
 Saw not the blessed change. The snows of age, 
 Falling on poor Louisa's wrinkled brow, 
 Compos'd her burning brain. Serene and calm, 
 Her early cheerfulness renew'd, nor all 
 Her early beauty faded, in life's eve 
 She shone a star of bounty to distress, 
 A guide to thoughtless youth, remembering well 
 That she had greatly err'd, and deeply mourn'd. 
 
 Nor turns the Muse from gazing on the train 
 Of real wo, passing in sombre pomp, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 31 g 
 
 Till she has call'd on pity to bestow 
 
 A tear to sooth yon matron. Dignified, 
 
 And pale, and graceful is her faded form — 
 
 She stops where British gratitude erects 
 
 The trophies of our warriors ; stops, and weeps, 
 
 Musing on him who fell, ere victory 
 
 Quench'd the vast thirst of valour. Yet at times 
 
 Her heart escapes the sternness of his fate, 
 
 And glows with high entrancement, pondering o'er 
 
 Maida's triumphant day, Rosetta's field, 
 
 Acre, where England humbled blasphemy, 
 
 And Aboukir, where Abercromby died 
 
 Beneath the flag of glory. From that scene 
 
 Quick glance her thoughts to him she ever mourns ; 
 
 A son * — she has no other ; and a line 
 
 Of patriots, chiefs, and statesmen fail?, extinct 
 
 In him who, on the rock of chivalry, 
 
 * George, only son of Admiral Sir John Borlase Warren, 
 Bart, was killed on the landing of the British troops in Egypt, 
 in the 19th year of his age, and buried at Malta. 
 
220 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Sleeps with Valetta's heroes ; sleeps, ere fate 
 
 Allow'd his youthful arm to realize 
 
 The glowing visions portray'd on his mind, 
 
 When honour bound the sabre on his thigh, 
 
 And sent him to the tented field, to prove 
 
 His untried puissance. Eagerly he rush'd 
 
 To grave his high-born name beside his sire's, 
 
 And met the missile death, ere yet his arm 
 
 Had flesh'd his sword. Forth well'd the generous blood, 
 
 Drawn from the fount of ancient kings ; and hope, 
 
 Which on his amber ringlets tow 'ring sat, 
 
 Sunk to the dust with them in blood imbu'd. 
 
 Yet turn, illustrious mourner, in whose eyes 
 Sorrow hath quench'd the lamp of joy and love, 
 No more to be re-lumin'd ; turn and own 
 Thy misery not extreme. There is a grief 
 To which thy pangs are light, an agony 
 Intense, which, shivering 'twixt despair and hope, 
 Knows not on which to gaze. Ask those whose sons 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 221 
 
 Launched in the Grosvenor's fated keel, and 'scap'd 
 The elements, to meet a fate more dire, 
 In wild CafFraria's deserts wandering, 
 Distant from human aid, and barely fed 
 With nature's vilest produce. One by one 
 They languished and expir'd ; the weakest first, 
 Soon join'd in death by him whose stronger limbs 
 Turn'd from his dying comrade to explore 
 Another portion of th' untrodden waste [guide, 
 
 That stretch' d around them : there, with chance their 
 They stray'd in many a curve. Nor sex, nor age 
 Then wak'd humanity ; each wretch, intent 
 On self-support, sigh'd for the pittance giv'n 
 To save a feebler sufferer, in whose eyes 
 Wild famine glar'd. One lovely boy alone 
 For succour pleaded, and was heard. He liv'd 
 The darling of the hardier few, who long 
 Endur'd the struggle. In their friendly arms 
 Alternate borne, he shar'd their scanty spoils, 
 And fed the. watch-light as they roam'd for food, 
 
222 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Soothing their woes with infant-blandishment. 
 
 And smiles cherubic, till weak nature sunk, 
 
 And death, in shivering listlessness disguis'd, 
 
 Embraced the guiltless mourner. Then despair 
 
 A final conquest gain'd ; and as they delv'd 
 
 The drifting sand to hide his faded charms, 
 
 With stony eyes they envied his repose, 
 
 Nor sicken'd more for European vales. 
 
 Yet to vast Afric's southern wilds, the haunt 
 
 Of beasts carnivorous, or barbarous tribes 
 
 Than brutes more bestial, hope still lingering chain' d 
 
 The fond maternal soul, and imag'd there 
 
 Her wandering child a savage or a slave, 
 
 Panting for social life, tho' long estrang'd 
 
 From all its joys, in anguish long immur'd, 
 
 Yet not grown callous in the grasp of wo. 
 
 So fell suspense, of miseries worst, thy fangs 
 Tortur'd full many a mother, when the banks 
 Of Cavary, in India's chersonese, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 223 
 
 Disclos'd a scene of bloody fraud, while be, 
 
 - 
 The wily tiger of Mysore, invok'd 
 
 Revenge from black Gehenna to dispute 
 
 With British firmness ; saw the fiend subdu'd 
 
 By patient strength, then with malignant pride 
 
 Drew dark oblivion's curtain to conceal 
 
 The names of those who sufter'd, and their wrongs. 
 
 Rose not those injur'd spirits, when thy walls 
 
 Seringapatam ! crumbled, and exposed 
 
 The tyrant's race to Britain's missile fires ? 
 
 Did they not gibber, when the cruel son 
 
 Of the fell sire, their murderer, pour'd his blood 
 
 Where theirs had gush'd; or when their country's flag 
 
 Wav'd o'er the musnud where he sat and view'd 
 
 Their tortures, and in them (short-sighted fiend!) 
 
 i 
 Deem'd England's name and empire all destroy 'd ■? 
 
 Lingers the Muse to probe the recent wounds 
 Scarce skinn'd by time, of her, whose gallant boy 
 At Ceylon perish'd ? Ceylon, star of isles, 
 
2%4i MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 That rises radiant in the eastern sea. 
 
 In thee, as in a chrystal cabinet, 
 
 Nature inshrines her choicest treasures, gold, 
 
 And gems, and spices, drugs medicinal. 
 
 And balms odorous. Yet thy sunny vales 
 
 Nourish a cruel race. Here Britain's sons, 
 
 Captives of war, a foe like Hyder found, 
 
 And shar'd the fate of Baillie's slaughter'd band. 
 
 Mysterious fate ! Truth on the storied page 
 
 A feeble outline draws, and yields the pen 
 
 To vivid fancy, fashioner of ills 
 
 Most horrible. O'er the sad mother's couch 
 
 She lies, a brooding incubus, and crowds 
 
 The dolorous chamber with her earth-born gnomes, 
 
 Tortures, and shrieks, and groans, and mortal throes, 
 
 By man endur'd from fellow-man, who mocks 
 
 That code of heavenly mercy, which hath loos'd* 
 
 The captive's bands, and from thy chariot, war, 
 
 * See the Bishop of London's tract on the benefits which the 
 world in general has derived from Christianity. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 225 
 
 Pluck'd the destroying scythe which murder'd those 
 Who crouch' d beneath thy jav'lin's awful blow. 
 
 O Britain, native isle, whose triumphs warm 
 My breast with ardour, for whose wrongs I mourn, 
 And with a woman's weakness shuddering hear 
 Thy dangers ! Queen of ocean ! with regret 
 I must accuse thee, tho' thy victor-flag 
 Flames like a steady cynosure, to shew 
 A darkling world the port where liberty, 
 Honour, and truth, their votive altars guard. 
 Bears not that banner, in its ample field, 
 The Christian symbol? Christian are thy hosts, 
 And on the word of God thy Christian crown 
 Recumbent lies. Why then like Camel's churl*, 
 Withhold thy living waters, and thy bread 
 Of life from hungry strangers, subject now 
 To all thy laws, except thy laws divine ? 
 
 * Nabal. See 1st Samuel, 25th chapter, 11th verse. 
 L 5 
 
226 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Art thou the nation maritime, beheld 
 Long since by Amos' son* in vision clear, 
 Beyond the Ethiopic floods, with wings 
 Protecting other lands, and sending forth 
 Her fragile vessels over distant seas ? 
 And shall the awful mandate to collect 
 Israel oppress' d and scatter'd, and to bear 
 The converts to their God in Palestine, 
 Be to thy care intrusted ? Sanctify 
 Thyself for the high mission, and become 
 In purpose, as in fact, heav'n's minister. 
 
 Say, shall thy red- cross standard wave sublime 
 O'er golden Inde, and Satan's idol-holds 
 Feel not its influence f ? Still the blazing pyres 
 
 * Isaiah, 18th chapter. The reader is referred to Bishop 
 Horsley's Commentary on that very mysterious part of holy 
 writ. 
 
 f The Author disclaims having any intention, by these re- 
 flections, to excite government to subdue paganism in our In- 
 dian possessions by coercive measures. It is rightly argued, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. l 227 
 
 Proclaim where superstition immolates 
 
 The self-devoted. Still in Ganges flood 
 
 Besotted myriads seek for health, and life, 
 
 And pardon, and beatitude. On earth 
 
 The Fakir lies, and still, with eyelids shorn, 
 
 Looks at the sun on his meridian throne, 
 
 And deems his tortures virtue. Britain, say, 
 
 Where are thy temples, where thy white-rob'd priests, 
 
 Thy bloodless altars, and thy sacred creeds ? 
 
 that as we are not sufficiently powerful to effect such a design, 
 God has not allowed us the means of rooting out idolatvy. 
 But what every serious person must deeply lament is, that in 
 our numerous and wealthy settlements, no- provision, or at 
 best only a very scanty one, is made for supporting Christianity 
 among our own countrymen, or for propagating its sublime 
 truths among the natives, by giving them a chance of conver- 
 sion from beholding the beauty of holiness in our public wor- 
 ship, and in the lives of Christians. That the latter effect of 
 our religion is not more prevalent must be referred to the fault 
 of individuals. What is required of the, ruling powers is, to 
 found a religious establishment at every settlement, and to pa- 
 tronize the translation of the holy scriptures into all the native 
 languages. 
 
228 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Hast thou no true ablution to despoil 
 
 Ganges of worship ? no pure rite, no prayer, 
 
 No adjuration, from his trance of pain 
 
 To rouse the Fakir ? no consoling chaunt 
 
 To tell the widow her Redeemer lives, 
 
 And snatch her from the flames ? O teach those groves, 
 
 Rich with redundant beauty, fragrance, fruit, 
 
 And shade salubrious, all the swelling pomp 
 
 Of Asiatic foliage, teach those groves 
 
 To echo other sounds than Bramah's name, 
 
 And other incantations ! Be the songs 
 
 Of Sion heard from fertile Malabar 
 
 To sandy Arcot, to the beauteous shores 
 
 Of rich Orissa, and Bengal, profuse 
 
 Of all life needs, save that for which we live. 
 
 O spread those echoes o'er the peaceful seas, 
 
 Peopled with barks innumerous ! Let them sound 
 
 In every spicy isle, and palm-crown' d bay, 
 
 Where commerce spreads her tent, or stays her oar. 
 
 Wherever waves thy banner, bid it shade 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 229 
 
 The house of God ; where'er thy tongue is heard, 
 O let it, like an angel's trumpet, tell 
 Messiah's kingdom of good-will and peace, 
 Friendship and truth to man ; to God the rites 
 Of firm obedience, gratitude, and love. 
 Exalt the full hosanna, till it soars 
 High as the lofty mountains of the moon, 
 And wakens Afric's savage genius, there 
 In gloomy state reposing ; bid him yield 
 His bloody banquets, and his demon-gods ; 
 Call on the tawny Moor to lay aside 
 That sensual creed which binds him to afflict, 
 And hate, the Christian. Teach Canadian tribes, 
 Who wander vast Columbia's northern wilds, 
 To hope a better heav'n than that they paint, 
 Areskoni's gift beyond the lakes, composed 
 Of forests stor'd with game, and sunny plains. 
 But chief, O guilt! O grief! lasting disgrace 
 To thy renown to say, 'tis yet undone ! 
 Teach those whom Afric's vices, or thine own, 
 
230 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Have made thy captives — those who ceaseless toil 
 Beneath a burning sun, to swell thy marts 
 With produce exquisite ; those most forlorn, 
 Whom thou hast reft of country, and disjoin'd 
 From nature's ties ; O teach those men of woes, 
 The God thou worshippest. So when they sit 
 Their labour ended, musing on the plains 
 Of Guinea, or on Benin's cooling palms, 
 Till sorrow kindles vengeance, and they dare 
 To brave, by crime, the tortures which they deem 
 Will send them to the realms so lov'd, so mourn'd— 
 Visions more mild may rise, list'ning the themes 
 Of heavenly mercy, and eternal rest 
 To deep affliction. Down their glossy cheeks 
 Shall stream the tears of piety and joy, 
 Dews of an ardent heart, producing now 
 Far nobler passions than revenge and hate. 
 
 O Britain ! cleanse thy glory from this stain, 
 Of nations most illustrious ! Blush to hear 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 231 
 
 That Lusitanian and Castilian kings* 
 
 First laboured in their colonies to fix 
 
 The cankerM scion they mistaking deem'd 
 
 The tree of life ; whilst thou, in whose bless VI soil 
 
 It grows redundant, checked by counsels cold, 
 
 Selfish, or atheistical, hast giv'n 
 
 To the true plant no culture., nor convey'd 
 
 Its fruit to distant regions. Hangs the sword 
 
 Of desolation o'er thy head, scarce staid 
 
 From hewing down thy greatness ? Are thy sons 
 
 Torn from the walks of peace, thy treasures drain'd, 
 
 And thy vast genius circumscrib'd with laws 
 
 Abhorrent to thy nature, but imposd 
 
 By the stern times, and wilt thou not inquire 
 
 How thou hast sinn'd to Heav'n, nor weep th' offence 
 
 Of cold indifference in a sacred cause ? 
 
 • 
 
 * Dr. Robertson, in several parts of his History of America, 
 describes the care which the Spanish government took to found 
 and endow religious worship in the countries which they con- 
 quered. 
 
 
232 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Yet, Britain, know, whether thy hallow'd hand 
 Shall usher in the dawn, or, fearful still, 
 Curtain its beams, the sun of truth shall rise, 
 Shine from the orient, light those scattered isles, 
 Which, like green emeralds, sparkle on the breast 
 Of the Pacific and Atlantic seas, 
 Blazing from Greenland to the southern pole, 
 O'er Apalachian mountains, on the top 
 Of Andes, on the high Riphcean rocks, 
 O'er the long chain which shoots from Caucasus 
 To sea-wash'd Anadir; where India's hills 
 Stop the monsoon's strong current, to the heights 
 Of Ethiopia, where the Nile collects 
 Her waters inexhaustible, shall sound 
 The echoing lauds of universal man 
 Hymning one common God, the God of peace, 
 And purity, and fellowship, and love. 
 
 Then shall the anxious mother, when she yields 
 Her child to distant realms, lose half the fears 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS, 233 
 
 Which now oppress her soul. No barbarous shore 
 
 Will then be founds where lurks the cannibal, 
 
 Or savage, who in sport his arrow aims, 
 
 And deems a murder pastime. Shipwreck then 
 
 Shall lose its adventitious miseries ; 
 
 Nor shall the wretch whom the vex'd sea bath spar'd 
 
 Find man a sterner enemy. No more, 
 
 When filial piety, with zeal untir'd, 
 
 From port to port, from sea to sea, explores 
 
 A father's fate, the Troubridge of those times, 
 
 Shall terror ask how died he ? Sunk the chief 
 
 In his own Blenheim, vanquish'd by the storm ? 
 
 Lies he in pomp marine, ingulph'd beneath 
 
 The element he lov'd, from whence he reap'd 
 
 The harvest of renown ? or found his keel 
 
 A dreary island, where a club or stone 
 
 FelFd him whom Gallia's hostile fires had spar'd 
 
 In his long glorious course ? Then never more 
 
 Shall female terror sicken at the tale 
 
 Of sack'd Grenada's massacre, nor shrink 
 
234: MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 At the wild ravage of a negro war, 
 Wasting Domingo's fertile paradise ; 
 When dying infants, writhing on the pike, 
 Shriek' d to their lifeless sires. Humanity 
 From east to west shall triumph ; nor shall man 
 Turn tempter, and to foul rebellion prompt 
 Young inexperience, fanning till they flame 
 The fires of lust, intemperance, and hate : 
 Fraud shall not glory o'er the simple fool, 
 Trapp'd in the snare be deck'd with gaudy flowers. 
 
 Thus, the worst enemies of man fang-drawn, 
 And exil'd, like the lion, from the haunts 
 Of social life, the mother shall entrust 
 Her child to scenes unknown, with precepts strange 
 From those she now enjoins, bidding him nurse 
 The glow of confidence, and give the dole 
 Of liberality, ere need resolves 
 To ask his aid, trusting his future wants 
 To friends as prompt and pitying. " For friends now 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 235 
 
 Hang ripe on every tree*, and every friend 
 Is sound at core. Self has resign' d the throne 
 To warm benevolence, whose first decree 
 Hath banish'd guile. His station candour fills ; 
 Mercy and truth are met, discoursing high 
 On universal happiness ; and peace 
 Gives righteousness the kiss of spousal love. 
 
 " Go forth, my child, the adder lurks not now 
 In the way-side to sting thy heedless foot; 
 Nor does the hideous vampyre envy, flap 
 With wing obscene, the offering genius bears 
 To immortality. Fear not to smile ; 
 Smiles are not now misconstrued. Loose the reins 
 To innocence and joy ; for innocence 
 And joy are the competitors who drive 
 Beside thy chariot, with fraternal zeal 
 To hail thy triumph, or to aid thy fall. ^jy j 
 
 * " Young friends grow not on every tree, 
 Nor ev'ry friend unrotten at the core." 
 
230 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 The world is chang'd; 'tis Christian now ; each land 
 Blazes in gospel-glory. Not as late, 
 Part in deep night, in twilight shadows part, 
 Part by false meteors wilder'd, and where shone 
 The splendour brightest, by the Christian shrine, 
 Mammon, and Belial, and lewd Chemosh raised 
 With other names their idol-shrines and groves. 
 These are the times of which the golden harps 
 Of prophecy, with many a symbol high, 
 Their rapturous idylls sung ; the distant view 
 Warm'd hoary wisdom with seraphic fire, 
 Bursting in symphonies sublime. The seers 
 Beheld Messiah's kingdom, Sharon's rose, 
 The cedar and the peaceful olive join'd 
 Flourish in barren sands by confluent streams, 
 That burst spontaneous where no ravenous beast 
 Could lurk, no poisonous serpent coil his folds 
 To spring on man. But o'er green pastures, strew'd 
 With flowers, o'er-arch'd with foliage, kings and queens, 
 As nursing parents, led the church of God, 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 237 
 
 Singing one song, array'd in spotless robes 
 Of sanctitude, and journeying safe to heaven/' 
 
 Assist, ye mothers, by your care, the toils 
 Of statesmen and of warriors. Speed the time 
 When man reclaim'd, and liege to God, no more 
 Shall need the sword of justice, or of war. 
 Provide, by early labour, for your age 
 Its best retreat, a bower secure and warm, 
 By your own branches shelter'd, there to sit, 
 And ruminate on former days ; V improve 
 The present hour, and plume your flagging wings 
 For your celestial journey, then diseern'd 
 Through a straight vista. When your feeble hands 
 Can minister no longer to your wants ; 
 When the faint knees relax, and the dull ear 
 Hears not the charmer; when the ray divine 
 Of beauty lights not the dull eye, and taste 
 Pails on unflavour'd sameness ; every sense 
 Shall be supplied, if filial gratitude 
 
238 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Repays the mighty loan maternal love 
 Lent to its helpless years ; and thou shalt lean 
 On its kind arm, nor fear thy tottering steps, 
 Nor want thy sightless eyes. What tho' renown 
 To thee is silent, and the world no more 
 Invites thee to her gorgeous feasts, content 
 That thou hast shar'd them, leave them to the young 
 To banquet, and, as thou hast done, retire. 
 Sublimer joys are thine ; thy children's love, 
 Their modest fortunes, and their fair renown, 
 To thee more musical than ought beneath 
 The chime melodious of according stars. 
 Died the strong Rhodian, father* of delight, 
 When his three sons, crown'd in th J Olympic games, 
 Woke the Pindaric lyre ? In holier bliss 
 The Christian mother dies, when round her bed 
 Her kneeling progeny, with pious prayers, 
 Waft her pure soul to heaven. On every face 
 She turns a parting glance, attempts to raise 
 * Piagoras. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 239 
 
 Her sthTen'd hands in benedictions kind ; 
 
 And the last accents inarticulate, 
 
 Which tremble on her falling lip, are sounds 
 
 Of thankfulness and blessing. Fare thee well ! 
 
 Thy labours now are ended, and thy joys 
 
 Largely expatiate. The mysterious veil, 
 
 Drawn by Omniscience o'er the world unseen, 
 
 Allows the Muse faint glimpse of what thou art 
 
 In thine eternal mansion. Yet, if still 
 
 Man's nobler aims rise unsubdu'd by death ; 
 
 If the calm sage, who studied nature here> 
 
 Pursues her wonders through ten thousand worlds'; 
 
 If he who rul'd an empire under God, 
 
 Now rules a star, still will the mother's shade 
 
 Attend her darlings with benignant care, 
 
 And in a guardian angel's sacred form *, 
 
 Shall perfect love full consummation find. 
 
 * The employment here assigned to the maternal spirit is 
 confessed to be founded on a hypothesis which has no support 
 from scripture. We know, however, too little of the nature 
 
2i0 
 
 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 Come, pensive Muse, resume thy harp, and close 
 Thy strains with consolation. Paint the soul 
 Refin'd from earthly frailty, aud inspired 
 With clear foretastes of glory. See it dry 
 The tears of love, who o'er the clay-cold corpse 
 Delights to bend, closing with reverend touch 
 The glassy eyes, composing the writh'd limbs, 
 And in the plain habiliments of death 
 Investing ruin'd nature. At the grave 
 The parent shade attends the mournful train, 
 And calls attention, while religious hope 
 Sings jubilant. In poverty, in wo, 
 In sickness, in reproach, in thy green path, 
 Prosperity, on honour's slippery rock, 
 In every trial, various as the aims, 
 
 of spirits, peremptorily to decide that such an office is impossible 
 for glorified human beings to perform, or that they may not, in 
 some future stage of existence, become ministering spirits, like 
 angels. It is hoped that it will not be deemed too fanciful to 
 conclude a poem dictated by maternal feeling, with a sug- 
 gestion which must often have occurred to a mother's heart. 
 
MATERNAL SORROWS. 241 
 
 And characters, and destinies of man, 
 
 The faithful guardian watches ; and, perchance, 
 
 Obtains permission oft to ward the bolt 
 
 Of threatened evil, or in gentle dreams 
 
 To whisper admonition or reproof; 
 
 And when they struggle through death's vale, to stand 
 
 A beckoning angel on the shores of bliss, 
 
 Cheering its fainting progeny with strains 
 
 Most rapturous, the sound of harps divine, 
 
 Chanting the wonderous change from dying pangs 
 
 To immortality, to heav'n, and God. 
 
 Happy the mother, happier than the bound 
 Of human thought can fathom, who, when death 
 Resigns his empire, from the grave shall rise, 
 With all her race beatified, and soar 
 Joyful to meet her Judge. Then, with deep awe, 
 Profound humility, and trust divine 
 In his unbounded mercy, trembling speak 
 The words he utter'd, " Lord, of those thou gav'st 
 M 
 
242 MATERNAL SORROWS. 
 
 To thy weak handmaid to instruct in truth, 
 And guide to glory, I have lost not one * ; 
 On earth we were thy servants, and now come, 
 In thine own realm to serve thee evermore/* 
 
 * St. John, 17th chapter, llth verse. " Those that thou 
 gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost." 
 
 THE END. 
 
WORKS WRITTEN BY MRS. WEST, 
 
 AND PUBLISHED BY 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW . 
 
 1. LETTERS addressed to a YOUNG MAN, on his First 
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 16*. 6d. Boards. 
 
 " This work appears to us highly valuable. The doctrines 
 which it teaches are orthodox, temperate, uniform, and liberal ; 
 and the manners which it recommends are what every judicious 
 parent would wish his son to adopt." — Brit. Crit. " We con- 
 sider these letters as truly valuable, and would strongly recom- 
 mend them to the attention of our younger friends." — Crit. Rev. 
 " We cannot withhold our tribute of praise which a work of 
 such superlative merit demands.'' — Guard, of Ed. 
 
 2. LETTERS addressed to a YOUNG LADY, wherein the 
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 " We do not venture without mature deliberation to assert, 
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 thers, we can recommend to the ladies of Britain, " The Letters 
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 3. THE ADVANTAGES of EDUCATION; or, The His- 
 tory of Maria Williams. A Tale, for very young Ladies. — The 
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