I
 
 FASHION, 
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH: 
 
 THE EMIGRANTS, 
 
 A TALE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 
 
 THOMAS GILLET, 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE BANKS OF ISIS. 
 
 OXFORD: 
 
 PRINTED AND SOLD BY MUNDAY AND SLATTER; 
 
 SOLD ALSO BY LOHGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWNE, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW, LONDON. 
 
 1819.
 

 
 SIACK ANNEX 
 
 TO 
 
 JOHN GEORGE STORIE, ESQ. 
 
 AS AN 
 HUMBLE TRIBUTE OF GRATITUDE, 
 
 THIS VOLUME 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 BY HIS 
 OBLIGED AND DUTIFUL SERVANT, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 8537-16
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The Writer of this little Volume feels extremely 
 diffident in submitting his juvenile effusions to the 
 Public, yet he humbly hopes that sufficient may be 
 found in them to justify the present attempt to 
 court their indulgence and favour. 
 
 " These various songs, 
 
 " Which I have fram'd in many a various mood, 
 " Accept, and what of error or intemperate truth 
 " Shall meet your ear, O think that riper age 
 " Will calm it down, and let your hearts forgive it."
 
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 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 
 
 If folly grow romantic, I must paint it 
 
 POPE.
 
 FASHION; 
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 
 
 WHO is the tyrant that most widely reigns, 
 And holds her subjects in securest chain* ? 
 FASHION she waves the sceptre of her sway, 
 And all mankind acknowledge and obey ! 
 From sultry Indus to the frozen Pole 
 The swarming myriads bow to her control. 
 Yet there's a climate, yea, there is a land, 
 Where e'en her very altar seems to stand ; 
 For vassals there, and devotees are seen, 
 Who watch the changes of her varying mien. 
 Now drest in smiles each smirking face appears, 
 Now mark'd with thought, and now suffus'd with tears ; 
 B
 
 2 FASHION; 
 
 Chamelions, lizards, winds, an April day, 
 
 Are emblems of their moods, and their array ; 
 
 Now languidly they loll, and quiet woo, 
 
 Now, persevering, pleasure's paths pursue ; 
 
 All their fond hopes, all their ambitious aim, 
 
 Her votaries' smiles, her own regard to claim, 
 
 And say, whence rose the Goddess? Whence her line? 
 
 Sprung she from mortal parents, or divine ? 
 
 Not heav'nly born, but of the earth is she, 
 
 Child of Caprice and stern Necessity! 
 
 When Nature, fresh from the chaotic wild, 
 Burst into light, and all creation sroil'd, 
 By heav'n ordain'd, call'd by the first great cause, 
 She for the universe establish'd laws ; 
 A tutelary genius from her birth, 
 Wide was her reign, and long she rul'd the earth. 
 All creatures lov'd the Sov'reign that they serv'd, 
 And seldom from her simple dictates swerv'd j
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 
 
 Till Subtilty, a sly, insidious guest, 
 
 Began her peaceful empire to infest 
 
 With specious shapes and shows, that charm'd the eye 
 
 Of man, the dupe of gloss and novelty. 
 
 Forth came the fiend, the human species bow'd, 
 
 AdmirM her charms, and all her claims allow'd. 
 
 Soon through the world her triumphs were display'd, 
 
 Bright in the sun, and blooming in the shade; 
 
 Necessity from thence obtain'd her end, 
 
 Caprice was blest, and own'd a fav'ring friend. 
 
 From their embrace the phantom form that sprung 
 
 Rules her now old, who cherish'd her while young. 
 
 Hence, FASHION, hence thy influence is confest, 
 
 By prince, by porter, poet, peer, and priest ; 
 
 So ominous at last the pest is grown, 
 
 She fills the country, and she gluts the town ; 
 
 Rides on each wave, and rolls on ev'ry wind ; 
 
 Fires the young heart, and rules the ripen'd mind. 
 
 And know, proud tyrant, to support thy reign, 
 Death roams the world with ev'ry form of pain j 
 
 82
 
 FASHION; 
 
 From ev'ry nook where Phoebus' glories shine, 
 Their spoils are brought to deck thy gaudy shrine ; 
 From east to west, from north to southern Pole, 
 Where earth is spread, or where the billows roll, 
 Innum'rous tribes that live, move, breathe, and feed, 
 In sea, earth, air, for thee expire and bleed, 
 To furnish out thy feasts, thy calls supply, 
 The dumb creation groans with agony. 
 
 To scent the gales that glide through yon gay dome, 
 How sweetly breathes the spirit of perfume ; 
 For this Destruction o'er the landscape lowers, 
 Falls the firm tree, and fade the fairest flowers ; 
 For this Arabia yields her balmy boast, 
 And ruin rides round India's fragrant coast ; 
 For this the civet pours his parting breath, 
 And gasps untimely in the pangs of death ! 
 
 And say the gems, thy minions vain that deck, 
 Blaze on the hair, the hand, the zone, the neck ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. J 
 
 For these was no anxiety endur'd ? 
 No perils brav'd ? Were they with ease procured ? 
 Ah, no ! the pearl -par'd pool and coral cave 
 Have often prov'd the toil-worn suff'rer's grave ! 
 
 Those who for thee explore the mountain's womb, 
 Where lustrous stones irradiate the gloom ; 
 Those who around the savage forest glide, 
 To strip its tenant of his envied hide; 
 And those, by want impelPd, who tread the heath 
 In search of spoil, oft find the spoiler Death. 
 For thee the wretch groans as he digs the mine ; 
 For thee the slave droops 'neath the burning line ; 
 The plants thou crav'st for bev'rage and for food 
 Are fann'd with sighs, and steep'd in human blood ! 
 Thy brightest gauds are trophies of despair, 
 And ev'ry diamond is a widow's tear J 
 
 Shame, then, on man, though gifted at his birth 
 The destin'd lord of ocean, air, and earth ;
 
 6 FASHION; 
 
 Who forms a phantom o'er himself to sway, 
 Groans 'neath its yoke, yet dares not disobey. 
 Yes, shame on him, who, of the fowl and brute, 
 Adopts the means and objects of pursuit; 
 Admires their manners, moulds to theirs his shape, 
 Now prates a parrot, and now struts an ape. 
 
 O ! Chesterfield, thy point thou well hast gain'd 
 Thy manners reign, thy maxims have obtain'd; 
 Trite compliment, profession, cant, disguise, 
 A mien immodest, and a tongue of lies! 
 Hardness of heart, debility of mind, 
 A taste perverted falsely call'd refin'd; 
 Impurity of thought, pride pass'd all measure, 
 A turn for trifling, and a zeal for pleasure. 
 These are the boons our seminaries give, 
 And these the blessings that our belles receive ! 
 What wonder, then, our morals are deprav'd, 
 The fair neglected, and their honours wav'd ; 
 What wonder, where such vice with folly strives, 
 We have more mistresses, and fewer wives!
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 
 
 Gone is th' informing genius from our land, 
 The torch is fallen from her nerveless hand ; 
 Though once she pierc'd the shades of Gothic night, 
 And put pale Superstition's train to flight; 
 Though far she banish'd priestcraft from our isle, 
 And bade Religion wear no partial smile ; 
 Taught Bacon Nature's secrets to unfold, 
 And Locke amongst her chosen sons enroll'd ; 
 Led soaring Newton from this low abode 
 To walks of angels, and the throne of God ; 
 Unloos'd the mind, enlighten'd all her sphere 
 Lo! FASHION now has form'd a bond for her. 
 And mark ! a drooping melancholy band, 
 The Arts and Sciences neglected stand ; 
 In vain they rising court the eye of day, 
 Their use and beauty to the world display; 
 In vain the due reward of merit claim, 
 In vain solicit the regard of fame. 
 Our FASHIONABLE tribes, with transports wild, 
 Pursue pale Luxury Profusion's child ;
 
 8 FASHION; 
 
 Her harlot glances ev'ry heart inspire, 
 She bends to whim, and satisfies desire. 
 Who heeds the lovely sisters now? They roam 
 Through western tracks to find a kinder home ; 
 Greece, Egypt, Rome, inform our anxious souls 
 Why in their rear the ball of empire rolls. 
 
 As poison issuing from a fountain's head, 
 Through all the winding stream at length is spread, 
 So the unseemliest mode the city breeds, 
 Through town and village to the hamlet speeds: 
 No more the farmer now, amidst his train, 
 Directs their labours, and inspects the grain ; 
 No more on summer eves, with spade in hand, 
 The peasant cultivates his plot of land ; 
 No more he sup'rintends, at leisure hours, 
 His vegetable tribes and scented flowers j 
 No more on Sabbaths seeks the blest abode, 
 To pour his soul in thanks and prayer to God j 
 But at the village ale-house now elate, 
 He sits and ponders o'er affairs of state ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 
 
 'Mongst gaping rustics shews his envied skill, 
 Lives malecontent, and dies an infidel ! 
 
 Unbless'd with Science, unimprov'd by Art, 
 With nought but senseless jargon, stor'd by heart, 
 Our youth set forth in distant climes to roam, 
 And bring a thousand foreign follies home ; 
 The tour of Europe is the aim of this, 
 That plunges in a French metropolis, 
 And finds at last, while FASHION'S form pursuing, 
 That Habit's but the brighter guise of Ruin ; 
 So fair Alcmena's mighty conq'ring son, 
 Who meeds of more than mortal glory won, 
 Found the gay robe he wore as honour's wreath 
 The bond of Slavery the vest of Death ! 
 
 Now mark! on yonder promontory's brow, 
 Which overhangs the rolling surge below, 
 Fair Britain's guardian Genius sits reclin'd, 
 And while around her sighs the pitying wind,
 
 10 FASHION; 
 
 Hark ! she exclaims, " Ah ! why, my children, why 
 
 From your paternal seats thus fondly fly ? 
 
 When mighty monarchs from their thrones were 
 
 hurl'd, 
 
 And Anarchy disturb'd the warring world, 
 Say, who their pious hopes and fears express'd, 
 Like infants clinging to their mother's breast? 
 Long rag'd the storm, but brav'ry hush'd the blast, 
 And purchas'd sweet security at last ; 
 And now you leave th' asserters of your cause, 
 Their country's champions, guardians of her laws ; 
 And, like degen'rate triflers, idly roam, 
 Regardless of * the weal or woe' of home. 
 
 " O shame to greatness, shame to honest pride, 
 Where now shall meek humanity reside ? 
 Lo ! Britain's nobles from her confines fly, 
 Nor gen'rous heed the soul-distracting cry 
 That issues faint from many a cheerless haunt, 
 Whose inmates pine beneath the grasp of want !
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. II 
 
 Tho' long the veteran has brav'd each toil, 
 And lab'rers drawn their treasures from the soil ; 
 Reckless of troubles and of service pass'd, 
 They leave them to the fury of the blast ; 
 And, what is worse, their bounty only flows 
 T' encourage mimics, foreigners, and foes!" 
 
 In vain the bold remonstrance still they fly, 
 And Britain sinks in abject poverty. 
 
 The prospect clears then, fearless let us roam 
 To town and court, gay FASHION'S long-lov'd home ; 
 Mark what bright objects in her presence rise, 
 And how her influence there the Goddess plies : 
 Lo I streets of palaces and temples where 
 Vain fools the banner of their charmer rear ; 
 On her pale altars smokes their sacrifice, 
 The hope of proud men, hatred of the wise ; 
 For few perceive that Pleasure's gayest dome 
 Shields but stern fate, and shades some op'ning tomb,
 
 12 FASHION; 
 
 Here shines each charm that genius can produce. 
 But all is far too elegant for use ; 
 Hither the pleasure-seeking tribes resort, 
 Each nymph's a goddess, ev'ry house a court ! 
 While thousand tricks from ev'ry point conspire 
 To raise the flowing tide of folly higher ; 
 A thousand arts and still those arts increase 
 To ruin fortune, credit, health, and peace ; 
 A thousand and ten thousand panders wait 
 To pall their appetites, and seal their fate. 
 Hence dupes and novices that daily run 
 For joy and fame, here find themselves undone. 
 So erst great Jeptha's pious daughter fled, 
 When wreaths of conquest crown'd her father's head; 
 Charm'd with the honours that bedeck the brave, 
 She sought a blessing, and she found a grave ! 
 
 Now hark ! wild Uproar swells along the street, 
 Chairs clash with chairs, with chariots, chariots meet ; 
 Rings the harsh shout, the patrol's sullen call,
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. IS 
 
 'Tis hurry, clamour, and confusion all. 
 
 Now speeds the senator, his task unconn'd, 
 
 To free ! Free what ? Th' adultress from her bond. 
 
 The barrister now makes his due resort, 
 
 Not to the court of rights but Folly's court ; 
 
 The valiant captain, ready armed for war, 
 
 True son of Honour, seeks the brothel jar. 
 
 The coquet blazes 'midst the fickle crowd 
 
 The zealot seeks his post, and mocks his God ! 
 
 Thus FASHION leads her votaries forth to Fame, 
 
 Various their aspect, but alike their aim. 
 
 Though this you vanity, that error call. 
 
 They're one with FASHION FASHION guides them all ! 
 
 The TOWN'S an hot-bed, where, from nature's root, 
 Vice grows more bold, and gains a wilder shoot ; 
 There springs that weed, the worst that Fate can raise, 
 Whose flower is Folly, and whose fruit Disease. 
 
 But see ! the spacious theatre invites, 
 With splendid scenes, gay choirs, and glitt'ring lights;
 
 14 FASHION; 
 
 Here the beau monde in gaudy trim resort 
 The Graces should attend the Muses' court. 
 Yes, and they do attend, for here are seen 
 Charmers grown grey, and women of thirteen! 
 Bloods, statesmen, soldiers, scavengers appear ; 
 Maids, matrons, whores, and wives, assemble here! 
 Promiscuous groups the gamester, cobbler, lord, 
 Pimp, 'prentice, justice, Jew, and robber horde : 
 And what the magnet ? What th' efficient cause, 
 That in its vortex thus the million draws ? 
 Does ancient Genius here with vigour new 
 Unfold her portraits of mankind to view ? 
 With moral tints do her effusions teem ? 
 Is Nature still her model, pride, and theme? 
 Is the mind fed with pure ambrosial fare ? 
 Or the eye charm'd with spangles, gloss, and glare 
 Does she, heaven-taught, point out with finger nict 
 Virtue's fair form, the odious traits of vice? 
 Ah ! no ! to these she long has bade adieu, 
 Smit with the charms of pantomime and shew ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 15 
 
 Now crowds on figure, gesture, scenery doat, 
 
 Or sounds that swell some soft Italian throat. 
 
 The bell has rung, and lo ! the curtain draws, 
 
 What is't that claims such loud and long applause ? 
 
 What argument is spun ? What wit display'd ? 
 
 What notion rectified? What truth convey'd? 
 
 Sure these high marks some wond'rous worth betoken ? 
 
 Yes! but the actor yet no word hath spoken : 
 
 But then his glorious stature is six feet! 
 
 His action matchless! and his dress complete! 
 
 Besides fresh charms the modern group engage, 
 
 Dogs, horses, elephants, usurp the stage ; 
 
 Now sits each auditor in rapture mute, 
 
 Pleas'd with the actions of the worthier brute. 
 
 In vain the objects Tully once pursu'd, 
 
 Expression's charms, the grace of attitude ; 
 
 From these they turn the willing ear and eye 
 
 To novel agents and machinery ; 
 
 Till fir'd with pageants, sleights, and tricks of art, 
 
 Each deems that Nature poorly plays her part.
 
 16 FASHION; 
 
 But hark ! at length the strutting actor speaks, 
 Slow from his lips the tuneful sentence breaks; 
 What full expanse of voice ! how sweet ! how clear ! 
 Now loud it swells now dies upon the ear 
 In melting melody. The sparks of ton 
 Repeat his periods, and his faults put on. 
 But lo ! an object lovelier yet succeeds, 
 And admiration follows where she leads ; 
 A form all beauty, and a soul all merit ! 
 The sentiments she breathes are freedom, spirit, 
 Contempt of delicacy, scorn of rules, 
 Duty she scoffs. Religion ridicules ; 
 Perhaps in sickly sentimental strain, 
 The strumpet strives our sympathy to gain. 
 A specious fop, or murdering duellist, 
 " Death's Minister," his man who never miss'd, 
 Steps forth before her bows prefers his suit ; 
 His courage charms her she accepts the brute ; 
 A plot is form'd the gallant pair elope 
 Down falls the fabric of their parents' hope ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 17 
 
 Their love is such as " scorns all human ties," 
 The slavish bonds of marriage they despise ; 
 Rapture is their's and ev'ry charm sublime 
 Is made the ornament and meed of crime. 
 Such are the subjects the Dramatic Muse 
 Adopts, her moral maxims to diffuse ; 
 Our belles admire the female's politesse, 
 Like her they prattle, wanton, paint, and dress ; 
 Assume her manners, carriage, gesture, airs, 
 Thus FASHION forms her fav'rite character*. 
 
 School of morality, retreat of taste, 
 Nurs'ry of genius, how art thou debas'd ! 
 Once knaves and fools by thee were hunted down, 
 Virtue was blest and wisdom won her crown. 
 O ! JEschylus, could'st thou from yon high spheres 
 But view th* improvement of two thousand years, 
 How would thy heart be pain'd, thy spirit griev'd, 
 To witness all we moderns have achieved ; 
 How would'st thou blush for man, could'st thou but hear 
 The cant, catch-words, and nonsense current here ; 
 c
 
 18 FASHION; 
 
 But sure them must despise him, could'st thou see 
 The stage o'er-run with vile buffoonery ; 
 And the best object of its brightest scene, 
 A dying horse or dog-drawn harlequin. 
 
 But turn we from a theatre decay'd 
 And let us seek the midnight masquerade ; 
 Here brighter objects break upon the view 
 Arcadian prospects rise and bloom anew. 
 Sure some enchanter, with bis magic wand, 
 Has summon'd here the boast of ev'ry land ; 
 For from each point a wonder strikes the eyes 
 The Devil once was found in Paradise I 
 Inanimate, and animate alike, 
 Each aids the charm, and all conspire to strike : 
 Behold this nymph, a gay Sultana stalks, 
 That dame, more sly, a nun serenely walks ; 
 While this soft damsel, so demure and shy, 
 Steals with her shepherd into privacy ; 
 Lo ! that grave matron a Bashaw prefers, 
 And if he's honest 'tis no fault of hers ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 19 
 
 Thus brother, sister, daughter, friend, and wife, 
 When tir'd of home, or vex'd with inbred strife, 
 Assur'd that social habits soften grief, 
 Flock to the masque, and give and find relief. 
 Here pleasure roves a welcome fav'rile guest, 
 " That reeling Goddess of the zoneless waist," 
 Her dark blue eyes, so beautifully bright, 
 Seem warm with love and swimming in delight ; 
 Her golden tresses, wanton in the wind, 
 Bedeck her brow, and fall in wreathes behind ; 
 Such living lustre in her smile is seen, 
 Its full reflection glows in every mien ; 
 No envious screens her panting breasts conceal, 
 Her limbs shine through a loose transparent veil ; 
 Celestial roses blossom in her face, 
 Her motion's harmony, her figure grace ; 
 Soft falls her step, more light than thistle down, 
 The soul of melody breathes in her tone. 
 O! she is fair, but false free, yet unkind ; 
 Frail as the moth and fickle as the wind ; 
 c2
 
 20 FASHION; 
 
 Her lips the freshness of the spring diffuse. 
 
 Her robe is of the rainbow's radiant hues. 
 
 The young enthusiast pants for her embrace, 
 
 She leads him, meteor-like, a devious chase ; 
 
 Here glowing bright, there temp'ring all her charms, 
 
 Still in his view, but never in his arms ; 
 
 Through fair and foul, heedless he presses on, 
 
 Till health decays, till strength and spirit's gone, 
 
 Then breaks the spell soft, secret, sweet, and strong, 
 
 Which bound his mind, and held his heart too long : 
 
 What seem'd, erewhile, an agel to the eye, 
 
 Now proves a demon of deformity ; 
 
 The witching strains he deem'd it heav'n to hear, 
 
 Now, like a knell, salute his wounded ear ; 
 
 And in each scent, that sweeten'd once her breath. 
 
 He meets disease, corruption, poison, death : 
 
 Seduc'd, seducing, pain'd, creating paiji 
 
 Enjoyment faded, his reliance vain; 
 
 From Hope's last refuge, rudely, fiercely driven, 
 
 He finds no home on earth, no friend in heaven :
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 
 
 Thus, scorning, he departs the scorn of all, 
 While angels weep, and devils hail his fall. 
 
 So much the FASHIONABLE rage prevails, 
 It fills our public rooms and stocks our gaols ; 
 For those, who early speed in Folly's sphere, 
 Full oft, in ruin, end their gay career 
 Yet who, that has a heart, would e'er resign 
 The matchless pleasure to be icen and shine ? 
 Who would be doom'd to wear their lives away, 
 Strangers to mode, to crowds, to routs, and play ? 
 For this the realm of nature proves a void ; 
 For this health, beauty, conscience, is destroy'd ; 
 For this we sacrifice friends, fortune, ease, 
 Live unbelov'd, and perish by disease. 
 
 Ere gay Almeria ten blithe springs bad seen, 
 She paid her visits to the festive scene ; 
 There learnt to amble, shuffle cards, and bet, 
 With all the pettier tricks of etiquette.
 
 22 FASHION J 
 
 Ere twelve she sought the play-house, read romances, 
 Figur'd at waltzing; shone in country dances; 
 Prov'd her dull parents idiots to their faces, 
 And warbl'd sonnets with theatric graces. 
 Thus pass'd her moments till fourteen and then 
 'Twas all her care to win the gaze of men ; 
 Thought damp'd her spirit, waken'd wild alarms, 
 Home had no joys, and solitude no charms ; 
 But where rapt mirth presided o'er the scene 
 Be sure Almeria constantly was seen, 
 Proud to be styl'd " the fairest of the fair," 
 The best accomplish'd, gayest trifler there ; 
 So round the flame the moth directs its flight, 
 Nor deems destruction wears a guise so bright. 
 
 At length a thing of whalebone, buckram, starch, 
 With mincing gait, half tiptoe dance, half march, 
 Unlike to woman, more unlike to man 
 A thing ne'er heard of since the world began, 
 Till lately in the realm of FASHION found, 
 Adoring se/f with reverence profound ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 23 
 
 Since of its gender doubtful signs were shewn, 
 
 Its species e'en to nat'ralists unknown, 
 
 " Scorn'd by one sex, rejected by the other, 
 
 Its very sister laugh'd to call it brother ;" 
 
 The languid looks this nondescript put on, 
 
 Its Gallic accent and its tender tone, 
 
 Its novel carriage figure raiment feature, 
 
 Procur'd it notice, 'twas so strange a creature. 
 
 Almeria saw it shining at a fete, 
 
 And deem'd 'twould make her a convenient mate ; 
 
 It thought the nymph a kindred soul, and seem'd 
 
 As next to self the damsel it esteem'd 
 
 They spoke ! embrac'd ! and all due matters carried 
 
 The loveless pair in Christian mode were married ; 
 
 But scon they found their bonds increase their phlegm, 
 
 Connubial offices could charm not them; 
 
 Through diff'rent routes they sought the phantom joy, 
 
 Pleasure their object, play their whole employ ; 
 
 Hence 'twixt them rose the hideous spectre Strife, 
 
 That pest of fools and plague of married life ;
 
 24 FASHION ; 
 
 By day 'twas bate and rage, by night 'twas worse, 
 And what was meant a blessing prov'd a curse ; 
 Home was a gaol, the world to them was waste, 
 Outcasts they liv'd, derided shunn'd disgrac'd ; 
 The thing grew bold in folly and in crime, 
 But Justice fell'd its pride and sapp'd its prime. 
 O ! have you seen the early summer rose, 
 Its beauteous blossom to the morn unclose ? 
 Such was Almeria's healthful, youthful bloom ; 
 But FASHION will the brightest charms consume 
 More fell her influence than the blasts of night ; 
 She preys on Beauty as its deadliest blight. 
 That form which blest erewhile the gazer's sight, 
 Now fills his soul with horror and affright: 
 How shake her joints, what pain distracts her head, 
 When mid-day calls Almeria from her bed ; 
 Worn out with grief, disease, fatigue, and want, 
 Of pleasure now she seeks the lowest haunt, 
 Throws her last stake, and totters round the room, 
 While Death stands by to hand his partner home.
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 25 
 
 Who hath not seen, 'neath summer's cloudless skies 
 The ether throng'd with gaudy-pinion'd flies, 
 Which buzz at morn, exulting in their flight, 
 Decay at noon, and perish ere 'tis night? 
 Thus FASHION'S vot'ries gaily flaunt awhile, 
 Exulting in their patron's transient smile; 
 In youth all joy but when age 'gins to low'r, 
 They fade and fall " a thousand in an hour." 
 
 But see, 'tis morn, and Rufo issues forth, 
 A statesman of acknowledged wit ad worth; 
 Made by one half the world their pride and theme 
 Damned by the other to eternal shame : 
 The case is this Rufo, not wildly mad, 
 Had common sense, or thought at least he had ; 
 He saw a thousand idiots daily crave 
 Blessings they ne'er were destin'd to receive ; 
 The vicious vain in short the vulgar throng, 
 Envious, impatient of imagin'd wrong : 
 Hence Rufo caught his cue he talk'd, he gloz'd, 
 Explain'd their rights, the wiles of courts expos'd ;
 
 26 FASHION J 
 
 Learnt all the politician's cant by heart 
 
 And in each clam'rous meeting bore a part : 
 
 He spoke of open and mysterious things, 
 
 The arts of ministers, the pride of kings ; 
 
 The deep dark secrets wrought in cabinet; 
 
 Decreasing trade, with an increasing debt ; 
 
 Preach'd up EQUALITY to swell their pride, 
 
 Then shew'd how systems should be rectified. 
 
 His knowledge learning foresight mov'd surprise, 
 
 The senseless rabble deem'd him wond'rous wise ; 
 
 With constant smile, coarse phrase, and courteous bow, 
 
 Full oft repeated " popularly low ;" 
 
 And hand out-stretch'd to each, as to a friend, 
 
 Thus Rufo gain'd his object and his end. 
 
 The best-form'd fabric, which at distance lies, 
 May seem unshapely to imperfect eyes : 
 Perhaps seen through an hazy atmosphere, 
 Unsightly marks may on the pile appear ; 
 But if a nearer view the stranger gains, 
 Or if new strength his visual orb attains,
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 27 
 
 He finds the disproportion which he view'd, 
 
 Rose from th place or station where he stood ; 
 
 And what unsightly seem'd, proves, in th' event, 
 
 Its best support and brightest ornament. 
 
 So to the ignorant and vulgar crew, 
 
 Who all askance the Constitution view, 
 
 Those darker parts they cannot comprehend, 
 
 Seem neither good, nor just, nor wisely plann'd j 
 
 But if they gain a nearer view at length, 
 
 And if their judgments know superior strength, 
 
 As dawns th' intent upon their op'ning soul, 
 
 They find these parts bear up th' harmonious whole. 
 
 Who then would hurl the structure from its height, 
 
 Because its basis is conceal'd from sight ; 
 
 Or who the sun would ravish from the sphere, 
 
 If, chance, some spots should on his disk appear. 
 
 See Rufo now retnrn'd to Parliament, 
 
 His labours there would coming ills prevent; 
 
 He calculates th' expenses of the war, 
 
 And proves the taxes more than we can bear ;
 
 28 FASHION;. 
 
 Pities th* oppressed people, and in storm 
 
 Assists the cause of Radical Reform ! 
 
 A place is void, how alter'd Rufo's tone, 
 
 His views are chang'd, his glowing zeal is gone; 
 
 No more in factious brawls he now delights, 
 
 Asserts less frequently the people's rights ; 
 
 For lo! at hand Emolument is seen, 
 
 And Fame, with deathless soul, and bright'ning mien : 
 
 Now proud his loyal feelings to evince, 
 
 He courts the minister and lauds his prince ; 
 
 As wry-neck'd sunflowers still their heads incline 
 
 To that fair point where Sol is seen to shine ; 
 
 So faithless Rufo meanly seeks to thrive, 
 
 The most obsequious parasite alive : 
 
 He gulls the mob with promises and lies, 
 
 And palls the court with fulsome flatteries ; 
 
 Each toil-worn nerve incessantly he strains 
 
 Till some snug pension the apostate gains. 
 
 Behold him now a thing of empty pride, 
 
 How chang'd his air, his gait how dignified ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 29 
 
 With passions half subdu'd, and hopes half crown'd, 
 He follows FASHION through each varying round ; 
 Plays free, fares sumptuously, gives routs, 'tends fetes, 
 Drinks costliest wines, and purchases estates. 
 Through all the town his mighty name is known, 
 His growing fame is through the country blown 
 Till having handl'd long the public cash, 
 He sweeps a plum and boldly makes a dash. 
 Far o'er the sea seeks out some friendly shore, 
 And Rufo's never seen or heard of more. 
 
 Our modish Belles are scarcely known at home, 
 From place to place, as FASHION leads, they roam j 
 At court in winter deep in crowds they dive, 
 To wat'ring seats in summer proudly drive ; 
 In trifling, gadding, spend their precious prime, 
 Neglect their families, and murder time. 
 Yet are not all such I have happ'ly known 
 Females in whom the brightest virtues shone. 
 Far from the noisy city's busy throng, 
 Aspasia dwells sequcster'd scenes among ;
 
 SO FASHION J 
 
 Tir'd of the follies of a trifling age, 
 
 More worthy objects her regard engage, 
 
 From scenes of false delight she turns, to trace 
 
 " The book of nature and the book of grace." 
 
 FASHION, no more thy gaudy glitt'ring charms 
 
 The -calm recess of her pure bosom warms ; 
 
 No more thine idol form attracts her eye, 
 
 Nor cares she though thy vet'ries pass her by . 
 
 The works of art at times her mind employ, 
 
 But Nature's wonders yield sublimer joy ; 
 
 For in the simplest blade that breaks the clod, 
 
 She sees the wisdom and the pow'r of God ; 
 
 Discovers more of what is truly fair 
 
 Within the precincts of one small parterre 
 
 More to admire, to cherish, and to love, 
 
 Than all the gaudes in FASHION'S loom e'er wove. 
 
 Think't thou her taste for each enjoyment fail'd, 
 
 That Stoic torpor o'er her powers prevail'd 
 
 Think'st thou her blushing beauties were o'erblown, 
 
 Before she left the busy bustling town ?
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 31 
 
 Ah no ! with ev'ry charm that glads the eye, 
 And nerves of keenest sensibility 
 Adorn' d with all that men in woman prize, 
 Awake to all the sweeter sympathies ; 
 She knew that duty calPd her to the shade, 
 She heard the summons, and with joy obey'd 
 Knowledge was hers, but she disdain'd to shew, 
 Like pedant vain, the varied lore she knew ; 
 Patient in trial, when her suffering ceas'd, 
 Her cheerful converse was a constant feast. 
 The spectre Spleen, a fury fierce and fell, 
 Whose presence makes the true domestic hell, 
 Scar'd by the mildness of her magic mien, 
 Where she appeared for ever fled the scene. 
 
 When bless'd with children, pledges of her love, 
 To win them happiness Aspasia strove ; 
 No stranger nurse their cherub form carest, 
 She fed their cravings from a mother's breast ;
 
 32 FASHION J 
 
 And led them duly on that blissful road 
 Where virtue blossoms in the smile of God. 
 
 At length the toils of time and frowns of fate 
 Depriv'd Aspasia of her long-lov'd mate ; 
 Then was the season, then the awful hour, 
 When tried affection prov'd her magic pow'r : 
 She saw with pity Nature's wayward strife, 
 And bore him from the busy scenes of life 
 'Midst meads and fields to breathe untainted air ; 
 She watch'd, she pray'd, she ceaseless serv'd him there, 
 Till charm'd with kind attention, pious toil, 
 E'en pale Affliction wore a placid smile : 
 To her his thanks, to God his soul was giv'n, 
 He ceas'd on earth, his spirit soar'd to heaven. 
 And now in nook of yonder church-yard lone, 
 His relics rest beneath that modest stone ; 
 There oft the matron steals with pensive air, 
 To meditate and breathe the heart's fond pray'r ;
 
 A DIDACTIC SKETCH. 33 
 
 To ponder o'er the past, and hail the hour 
 When they shall meet to part again no more. 
 And there she oft her youthful offspring leads, 
 Makes known his qualities, describes his deeds, 
 Exhorts them all his precepts to retain, 
 His manners imitate, his virtues gain ; 
 Thus patiently resign'd she views her loss, 
 Looks up to heaven, and bears her weighty cross. 
 Does fell misfortune cast a scowling eye 
 On honor'd age or cheerful industry ? 
 Her timely bounty's secretly convey'd, 
 She gives advice, she lends the feeble aid. 
 Does pallid Sickness the poor Sufferer press ? 
 She speaks to comfort, and she speeds to bless. 
 Come then, ye votaries of FASHION'S school, 
 Whom folly leads, whom whim and custom rule ; 
 O come ! for once a happy contrast see, 
 And say, capricious victims of ennui*- 
 Do ye, in all your haunts of splendor, find 
 A joy so pure as fills Aspasia's mind
 
 34* FASHION, &C. 
 
 When in the grateful cottage of distress, 
 She learns what blessedness it is to bless ? 
 Ah ! no, the bliss ye seek, the plans pursue, 
 Conscience detests, reflection dares not view ; 
 She builds her pleasures on the base of love ; 
 These angels honor, God and saints approve ; 
 Ye follow sin, the meed of which is death 
 She grasps at heaven, and gains fair glory's wreath. 
 
 Now hang my harp on yonder pendant boughs, 
 Where soft beneath the wand'ring Isis flows ; 
 A hand untaught hath woke thy warbling wires, 
 Which now reluctant from the task retires ; 
 For objects more innumerous crowd my theme 
 Than insects waken'd by Apollo's beam ; 
 To paint whose form and character requires 
 A GIFFORD'S taste, a BYRON'S magic fires ; 
 Rest then, my harp, futurity may bring 
 The sage, Experience, 'neath her onward wing, 
 Whose kindly aid may strengthen and refine, 
 Correct this sketch, and perfect my design.
 
 Emigrant*; 
 
 A TALE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 **** " I MARK'D her wand'ring by the deep ; 
 
 I heard her sigh, I saw her weep ; 
 
 The sea was calm, the air serene, 
 
 A dark'ning cloud o'erspread her mien ; 
 
 It seem'd as if the spirit there 
 
 Was torn and prison'd by despair ; 
 
 She breath'd so long, so deep a groan, 
 
 Such horror swell'd the lab'ring tone, 
 
 It might have been esteem'd the token 
 
 That her poor restless heart was broken. 
 
 A storm ensu'd, the waves rose high, 
 
 Deep gloom involv'd the low'ring sky ; 
 
 Then, rising from soul-cank'ring sadness, 
 
 Her bright eyes glancing rays of gladness,
 
 38 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 She wildly leapt upon the steep 
 
 Which over-hung th' infuriate deep, 
 
 And knelt I saw her raise her form 
 
 Amidst the terrors of the storm, 
 
 Like Cynthia, who, through clouds of night, 
 
 Appears more lovely to the sight. 
 
 The fillet from her head was cast, 
 
 She gave her loose locks to the blast, 
 
 Which form'd as oft the lightning spread 
 
 A blaze of glory round her head ; 
 
 But short the time the eye there found her, 
 
 Soon darkness wrapt his mantle round her." 
 
 " 'Tis Angeline, I know it well, 
 She left ere matin hour her cell 
 'Tis Angeline," the Abbess said, 
 " She from our sacred pile is fled 
 To seek a cold unhallow'd grave 
 Beneath the restless, cheerless wave- 
 Then haste, good Fisherman, with me, 
 And let us search along the sea,
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 39 
 
 We yet may be in time to save 
 
 The lady from her long-sought grave ; 
 
 And I will tell, as on we go, 
 
 The source from whence her sorrows flow." 
 
 " You well remember, Jaques, the night 
 When prodigies beguil'd the sight ; 
 Two years are scarcely pass'd away 
 Since that dread season of dismay; 
 When wild waves drown'd the rocky shore, 
 And demons swell'd the deaf'ning roar; 
 When birds fell gasping on the ground, 
 Scar'd dogs howl'd hideously around, 
 And fiery shapes were fiercely driven 
 Across the blacken'd arch of heaven. 
 That night / never shall forget, 
 For ere the storm had ceas'd to fret, 
 All lonely vvand'ring on the shore, 
 The wrecks of ocean to explore, 
 I found that gentle lady lying, 
 Cold, breathless, motionless, and dying.
 
 40 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 What could be done was quick essay'd 
 I chaf M her temples, rais'd her head, 
 Embath'd her lips with balm, and straight 
 Her lungs respir'd, her pulses beat ; 
 The spark of life, as near its wane, 
 Wax'd bright, grew dim, then bright again ; 
 Her eyes diffus'd a lucid gleam, 
 Serene as Hesper's silvery beam ; 
 While sudden tints, warm, vivid, fair, 
 Spread o'er her cheek to perish there ; 
 The rose oft broke upon the view, 
 Then faded in the lily's hue." 
 
 " There was a softness, sweetness seen 
 A rais'd, yet mournful, cast of mien, 
 Which spoke her soul, obscur'd and dim, 
 A sister of the seraphim : 
 I sought assistance, none was found, 
 Nor cot, nor hamlet, rose around ; 
 So to our inmost cell I bore her, 
 And pray'd the Virgin to restore her.
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 41 
 
 Who hath not watch'd the fading eye, 
 And heard the half-form'd accent die, 
 And paus'd, as swefl'd the lab'ring throat, 
 To mark what each sign might denote ; 
 Now trembling, hoping, fearing, praying, -. 
 As health seem'd bright'ning or decaying?" 
 
 " We watch'd her with unwearied care, 
 And proffer' d many a fervent pray'r; 
 We watch'd her, and we found at length, 
 Glad symptoms of increasing strength ; 
 Yet still the saint, though oft address'd, 
 Fulfill'd but half our fond request ; 
 The pulse of life grew blithe again, 
 But reason rul'd not in her brain ; 
 The soul's chief functions were suspended, 
 And all her thoughts with madness blended. 
 As limpid streams congeal with cold, 
 Then melting, flow more fresh and bold j 
 So first the suff'rer's senses fail'd, 
 And then, with double force, prevail'd ;
 
 4-2 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 Sudden delirious anguish came, 
 Shot to her heart, and fir'd her frame ; 
 Rude passion boil'd with fervent heat ; 
 Reason, by fits, resum'd her seat ; 
 But faint and feeble was her sway, 
 Her lustre dim, and short her stay : 
 'Twas like the momentary light 
 Which flashes on the brow of night, 
 When meteors float along the air, 
 And die in sullen darkness there." 
 
 " We urg'd her oft the veil to take 
 Our plea could no impression make ; 
 Till in one dark and awful hour, 
 When reft of strength and mental pow'j; 
 She half complied with our request 
 We hung the cross upon her breast, 
 And sought the blessed saint, that she 
 Might prove a faithful votary. 
 Before the shrine she humbly bow'd, 
 Her form with heavenly beauty glow'd ;
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 She rais'd her head, and never eye 
 Seem'd fraught with such divinity. 
 Her bosom heav'd with fond devotion, 
 As heaves the white surf on the ocean ; 
 Intelligence through all appear'd ; 
 And music in her voice was heard. 
 But when the sisters tried to raise 
 The solemn, sacred strain of praise, 
 The Virgin's statue, wrought of stone, 
 Appear'd to wear an angry frown: 
 This was esteem'd, in fullest measure, 
 A token of the saint's displeasure, 
 And ev'ry vestal hence believ'd 
 The sacrifice was not receiv'd. 
 They vievv'd her as a guilty thing, 
 Whose soul remorse could never wring, 
 And deemM her, therefore, doom'd to bear 
 The pangs of punishment severe. 
 But when she from the shrine withdrew, 
 Fresh wonder in each bosom grew ;
 
 44 THE EMIGRANTS* 
 
 For never had the maids beheld 
 A mien, which ev'ry mien excell'd, 
 Like her's, in meekest loveliness, 
 So fraught with direful deep distress : 
 At times she^d shun each symbol holy, 
 Enwrapt in moodiest melancholy : 
 The vernal sky, the veering wind, 
 Are emblems of her changing mind. 
 Now she would fast, and pray, and weep, 
 And all her soul in sorrow steep ; 
 And now she to the world would turn, 
 And with unholy longings burn ; 
 Yet griev'd she not for worldly treasures, 
 For trifling joys, or guilty pleasures: 
 No, no ! her love, her lord was dead ! 
 And with him ev'ry hope was fled j 
 His corse was whelm'd beneath the wave, 
 And she would fain partake his grave. 
 Days roll'd away, and months return'd, 
 Yet still, with this desire she burn'd."
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 45 
 
 ** Steep are our convent walls, and high, 
 Yet oft th' infuriate nymph would try 
 To fly, all madly, from her cell, 
 And bid the holy fane farewell." 
 
 || 
 
 " Affection sways with soft control, 
 That melts and fructifies the soul 
 Hence ev'ry feeling, ev'ry thought, 
 With sympathetic mildness fraught ; 
 From heav'n its sacred flames descend, 
 And thitherward they ever tend ; 
 But there is yet a ruder blaze, 
 Which, like th' erratic comet, strays 
 Still gathering heat, and gath'ring force, 
 Till pale Destruction marks its course : 
 And this, I fear, this was the flame 
 So fondly cherish'd by that Dame ; 
 For on some plausible pretence 
 She rashly, subtly stole from hence ; 
 And, calling round each holy sister, 
 This hour this very hour I miss'd her."
 
 46 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 " Miss'd her, good Abbess? yonder look, 
 She still is leaning on the rock ; 
 Dim through the haze I see her stand 
 With head declin'd and outstretch'd hand ; 
 Fair as the faultless angel form 
 That mourns the ravage of the storm ; 
 And see the boat it flies ! it flies ! 
 His utmost strength Orlando plies. 
 I left him but to guard my freight, 
 The while I sought your blest retreat; 
 And now the waves around his prow 
 Like lines of burnish'd silver glow 
 He nears he nears the rocky shore, 
 Her perils now will soon be o'er; 
 Orlando views the craggy height 
 He lands he vanishes from sight." 
 
 " Orlando ? ah ! I've heard that name 
 Say whence the gallant stranger came ?"
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 47 
 
 " Yes now I deem the lady safe 
 From rocks that frown and waves that chafe. 
 With less perturb'd, distracted breast 
 I'll yield, good Dame, to thy request ; 
 But slowlier must we pace it on, 
 For all my strength and vigour's gone. 
 Know, just at dawn that very morn, 
 When to your cell yon nymph was borne, 
 I saw what seem'd a human form 
 Toss'd rudely by the raving storm ; 
 My fond cares then 'twere vain to tell, 
 Each feeling grew unspeakable ; 
 For let me see but danger grasp 
 To fold a victim in his clasp, 
 And I would wade through flood and fire 
 To snatch it from disaster dire ; 
 And though ten thousand deaths were there, 
 I'd scorn the wretch who'd scorn not fear. 
 
 Yes, 'twas Orlando that I spied 
 I snatch'd him from the whelming tide ;
 
 48 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 The spark of life seem'd in eclipse ; 
 
 At length a groan escap'd his lips 
 
 But boots it nothing to relate 
 
 The change of hope, the sports of fate ; 
 
 My hut he enter'd, health there found him, 
 
 But joy nor pleasure smil'd around him ; 
 
 Yet wrapt in melancholy mood, 
 
 He oft would seek the beach to brood 
 
 All lonely o'er that restless flood, 
 
 Where, wand'ring late, by tempests toss'd, 
 
 The idol of his soul was lost 
 
 That tender bud, that beauteous blossom, 
 
 The pride and glory of his bosom. 
 
 Some wealth he rescu'd from the wreck, 
 Enough the frown of want to check j 
 This provM a ready, constant mean 
 To cheer the lowly cottage train. 
 My humble hut became his home, 
 Nor blush'd he hence with me to roam :
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 49 
 
 What time I sought the scaly fry, 
 
 His manly strength he oft would ply, 
 
 To draw the net or tend (he sail 
 
 That woo'd or shunn'd th' inconstant gale ; 
 
 The seamevv from the rock he bore, 
 
 And slew the wild bird on the shore : 
 
 Thus daily was my table fraught, 
 
 Thus plenty smil'd throughout my cot; 
 
 Yet rov'd he neither flood nor field, 
 
 To reap th' enjoyments they might yield ; 
 
 The only object there he sought 
 
 Was to divert his mind from thought ; 
 
 For it is sad when pleasure's pass'd 
 
 To find no human joy will last ; 
 
 Tis sad to scan the fleeting scene, 
 
 While mem'ry points to what has been ; 
 
 But oh! 'tis sadder yet to mark 
 
 The changing brow of Hope grow dark, 
 
 And, ere youth's early ardours die, 
 
 To see her form fade on the eye.
 
 50 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 This he had done, and yet his heart 
 
 In each one's sorrows shar'd a part ; 
 
 But though it bled for others' woes, 
 
 Its own he wish'd not to disclose, 
 
 But lock'd them fast from friends and foes j 
 
 Yet I have seen the trickling tear 
 
 Pursue its silent, sad career 
 
 Adown his faded cheek ; and I 
 
 Have heard the frequent deep-drawn sigh 
 
 Burst wildly from his lab'ring breast, 
 
 Which seem'd unknown to peace and rest: 
 
 But this was when no eye was near, 
 
 Save mine, to mark or sigh or tear j 
 
 For in the sight of strangers he 
 
 Would bear him bold, yet courteously. 
 
 Hast thou not seen the glorious sun 
 
 His course through misty ether run, 
 
 Though thick o'erspread with vap'ry veil, 
 
 Yet great in native splendour still? 
 
 Thou hast and thou may'st learn from hence 
 
 His eye's mute mournful eloquence j
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 51 
 
 No passion rais'd by sudden care, 
 The wildness of distress was there ; 
 Yet oft, it seetn'd, his own dread lot 
 Was in his country's woes forgot ; 
 For when that sacred spot of earth 
 I chanc'd to name, which gave him birth, 
 Now curst with an Usurper's reign, 
 The which to 'scape he cross'd the main, 
 Where, in one dreadful wreck, was lost 
 The prize he lov'd and valu'd most 
 From feeling heart and fault'ring tongue 
 He pour'd this sad indignant song : 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " How lovely the land where, in childhood, I wandered, 
 
 Delighted to breathe the fresh gale, 
 By torrent, by streamlet, or rill that meander'd 
 
 Through groves 'mid the flow'r-cover'd vale. 
 
 E2
 
 52 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 There the broad tree of Liberty sprung up and flourish'd, 
 
 Sweet Peace her serenest smile wore ; 
 No vile trait'rous rebel my country then nourished, 
 
 But Liberty now is no more. 
 
 " O shame to the cravens, vain, lewd, and false-hearted, 
 
 Who saw their own laws trampled down ; 
 And shame to the nation that basely deserted 
 
 Their duty to country and crown! 
 Fair Order they spurn'd, and Confusion soon found 
 them, 
 
 Their Idol grew drunk with their gore ; 
 The spectres of Horror and Ruin surround them, 
 
 And Liberty now is no more. 
 
 " O spirits of heroes departed to heaven, 
 
 Look down from your region of joy ; 
 Let valour and truth to your children be given, 
 
 Or the trophies you rais'd they'll destroy ;
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 53 
 
 Dart a gleam of the glory ye gladly inherit, 
 
 Allegiance and faith to restore ; 
 Rear Honour's bright standard, and bid them revere it, 
 
 Or Freedom will flourish no more." 
 
 " Cease, Jaques, O cease thy mournful song, 
 Nor more the tale of woe prolong, 
 For see grim Night, abash'd and mute, 
 Leads to the west her shadowy suite, 
 Chas'd by the glorious kindling ray 
 Which bursts resplendent on the sea, 
 She flies and now the king of day, 
 Serenely smiling from afar, 
 Impatient whirls his golden car, 
 Prone o'er the fields that purp'ling glow, 
 Where loose his locks of glory flow. 
 And mark! where yonder cliff ascends, 
 A form its light step hither bends 
 Oheav'n! 'tis Angeline! she's safe, 
 Let bolts now fly and billows chafe,
 
 54 THE EMIGRANTS. . 
 
 My breast shall feel no rude alarm, 
 
 For she we seek is safe from harm ; 
 
 Supported by a stranger kind, 
 
 This way her course she seems to wind 
 
 Bat who? and what ? oh what are they, 
 
 Who, savage -like, obstruct her way, 
 
 With visor'd front and gleaming brand? 
 
 I know them now a ruffian band, 
 
 Who prowl like wolves upon the shore, 
 
 Fell and athirst for human gore : 
 
 Haste, Jaques, O haste, assistance lend, 
 
 Thy arm the vestal may defend ; 
 
 For see ! bright gleams around them flashing, 
 
 And hark! oh, hark! rude sabres clashing f 
 
 The rock with streaming purple glows, 
 
 More hot and fierce the conflict grows ! 
 
 Now, now they meet ! they turn ! they bendf 
 
 And heavier now the strokes descend ! 
 
 They pant ! they foam ! they gasp for breath f 
 
 Infuriate ministers of death.
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 55 
 
 Stern Horror rears her ample plume, 
 And shades them in its deepest gloom ; 
 The ruffians double ev'ry blow 
 Poor maid, thy fate is hopeless now! 
 Was it to meet this harrowing shock 
 That thou wert rescu'd from the rock ? 
 And hast thou 'scap'd th' infuriate flood, 
 That savage hands might shed thy blood ? 
 O Angeline ! meek Angeline ! 
 Fate follows thee with vengeance keen. 
 Still louder sound the bick'ring strokes ! 
 Fire flashes wide, the red rock smokes ; 
 One ruffian falls death seals his eyes 
 At thy protector's feet he lies ; 
 But raging, burning, madd'ning now, 
 Fate aids the conflict points each blow ; 
 Tis like the war that nature wages, 
 When wind against the torrent rages; 
 'Tis like the tempest like the thunder 
 That rends the knotty oak asunder j
 
 56 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 But mark the pitying skies look pale 
 
 To see unequal strength prevail. 
 
 Poor youth, thou canst no longer hope, 
 
 But grappl'd with one foe to cope, 
 
 For pass'd thy reach yon ruffian flies 
 
 Te where the helpless lady lies ; 
 
 The villain rears his brand to cleave her 
 
 Now, now what earthly pow'r can save her? 
 
 The stroke descends, some timely aid 
 
 Wrings from his murd'rous hand the blade 
 
 'Tis Jaques, the good old Fisherman, 
 
 Who rapid to her rescue ran ; 
 
 And see the savage far is fled, 
 
 He struggling climbs the mountain's head ; 
 
 The topmost crag is bare and high, 
 
 It seems a dark cloud in the sky ; 
 
 'Tis loose ! he falls! how swift his motion, 
 
 From crag to crag, thence to the ocean ! 
 
 No effort's made, no faint endeavour, 
 
 He gasps, he bleeds, he sinks for ever.
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 57 
 
 Yet still one bold assassin lives, 
 But in the fray no longer strives ; 
 For foil'd, and faint, and breathless, see 
 He bows him on the bended knee ; 
 His sword he yields, he prostrate falls, 
 And loud and oft for mercy calls ; 
 The mask is from his brows unwound, 
 His rage is quell'd, his arms are bound. 
 
 Now danger's o'er, now peril's pass'd, 
 And hush'd the fury of the blast, 
 With sparkling eyes and bounding feet 
 The nymph and hero spring to meet ; 
 The tears of joy bedew each face 
 How tender seems that long embrace. 
 For this through all the Convents round 
 The hymn of grateful praise shall sound ; 
 For nought but heav'n's almighty pow'r 
 To comfort could their hearts restore. 
 And see ! to heav'n the hero turns, 
 His cheek with glowing rapture burns
 
 58 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 " O Angelina, my wife !" he cries, 
 " O Angeline !" the rock replies 
 " Bless'd be the hour when from the wave 
 My form emerg'd as from the grave ; 
 Bless'd all the hardships I have borne 
 The sleepless night, the joyless morn ; 
 The toil, the terror, and the strife 
 That marr'd my chequer'd spring of life : 
 This happy hour o'erpays me double 
 For all my danger, cares, and trouble. 
 Though wild the storm, and fierce its sway, 
 That tore thee from my arms away ; 
 Though long the night and deep the shade 
 Despair cast darkling round my head 
 Love's soften'd glory linger'd yet, 
 E'en though its radiant orb was set : 
 So at the fall of summer eve, 
 When the bright sun has ta'en his leare, 
 Though far beneath the ocean hurl'd, 
 His chaste reflection cheers the world.
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 59 
 
 That storm is o'er, that night is past, 
 
 The morn of pleasure dawns at last; 
 
 With joyful heart and inward pride 
 
 I clasp my long-lost, lovely bride ; 
 
 And now before my mental eyes 
 
 A train of happy years arise ; 
 
 I see the tyrant base subdu'd, 
 
 Who bought his glitt'ring crown with blood j 
 
 The steeds of war, all crimson crested, 
 
 By Mercy's mandate are arrested ; 
 
 And Peace once more, with olive wand, 
 
 Reigns mildly o'er our native land ; 
 
 The vine-clad cot, my earliest home, 
 
 The groves that wrapt me in their gloom ; 
 
 My mother, sister, friend rever'd, 
 
 All those whom Slaughter's sword hath spar'd 
 
 Impatient beckon us away, 
 
 And seem to chide our long delay. 
 
 Come then, my Angeline, O come, 
 
 With fleetest speed let's hasten home,
 
 60 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 And in our pleasant paths again 
 The seraph joy shall live and reign ; 
 Meanwhile, till life itself shall end, 
 These our protectors we'll befriend." 
 
 He said, and with his new-found bride 
 Hied quickly down the mountain's side ; 
 Before them pleas'd the Abbess sped, 
 And Jaques behind the captive led. 
 
 At length the happy group beheld 
 Orlando's prophecies fulfill'd j 
 The stream of lib'ral bounty flow'd, 
 The culprit vile to Justice bow'd ; 
 The tyrant from his throne was hurl'd, 
 And wearied War's red banner furl'd ; 
 Their vine-clad cot, their olive shade 
 Again the faithful pair survey'd; 
 The friends from whom they'd long been torn 
 With transport hail'd their glad return ;
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 61 
 
 Again the lute was heard to sound ; 
 Again the jovial dancers bound ; 
 Again meek Love, with glowing mien, 
 Reigns charmer of the festive scene. 
 Hence ev'ry pleasure life can give 
 This long-tried faithful pair receive : 
 Their hours steal by with rapid flight, 
 Joy crowns the day and peace the night 
 And all the blessings now they crave, 
 Is thus to sojourn to the grave.
 
 NUNEHAM FETE/ 
 
 AN ECLOGUE. 
 Written in the Year 1818. 
 
 -D LITHE rose the morning, bright the sun arose, 
 
 And summon'd nature from her short repose. 
 
 J Twas Summer, and the gale which robb'd each bloom, 
 
 Shook his soft wings, and scalter'd sweet perfume. 
 
 To thy pure stream, fair Isis, came along, 
 
 By pleasure bidden, many a merry throng, 
 
 With aspect smiling, and with spirits gay, 
 
 To celebrate their Prince's natal day. 
 
 Not long the vessels on the waters waif, 
 
 For soon each boat receives its precious freight ; 
 
 Cits of all ranks, and comely dames were there, 
 
 And many a youth, and many a maiden fair. 
 
 * An annual Festival holden on the 12th of August, in Nunc- 
 ham Park, to celebrate His Royal Highness the Prince Re- 
 gent's birth-day. The number of persons who attended the 
 present year was computed at 4000.
 
 66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 At length they leave great Oxford's classic towers, 
 
 Her gorgeous fanes, and academic bowers ; 
 
 Around them smiles the prospect stretching wide, 
 
 Where golden Ceres reigns in all her pride. 
 
 Above, the skies with brightest colours glow ; 
 
 Serenely glides the tranquil stream below ; 
 
 Whose heaving breast thatcouch which zephyrs curl 
 
 Appears a bed of living lustrous pearl. 
 
 See what bright crowds surround the pleasant marge 
 
 Swift glides the wherry, slowly moves the barge ; 
 
 There mirth the aid of music seems to crave, 
 
 The rowers bending brush the burnish'd wave. 
 
 Impatience paints each cheek, and gilds each brow; 
 
 Fresh objects rising break upon the view. 
 
 Towers, villas, lawns, the meadow, and the wood ; 
 
 Hills, hamlets, towns, the valley, and the flood. 
 
 But now the Park's delightful bounds they gain, 
 
 And there alight a num'rous, happy train ; 
 
 On nature's carpet cheerfully recline, 
 
 And charm'd with melody, carouse and dine.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 67 
 
 The light repast soon finish'd, 'midst the throng 
 Some weave the dance, and some the choral song : 
 The grandsire shakes away his age and cares 
 The grandame smiles, the matron gay appears; 
 And many a youth, elate with manly pride, 
 In triumph leads the nymph, his destin'd bride. 
 Crowds of all ages, and each sex are seen, 
 Joy in each heart, and gladness in each mien : 
 Here, fresh as dew-drops from the womb of morn, 
 Pure pleasure sparkles, and delight is born ; 
 One spirit of content each breast pervades, 
 And nature smiles through all her silvan glades ; 
 To mark such numbers by enjoyment blest, 
 Might melt with sympathy a marble breast! 
 But lo ! what pile* on yonder hill appears, 
 Of ancient form, yet unimpair'd by years ? 
 
 * Carfax Conduit. This beautiful edifice once stood at the 
 east end of St. Martin's Church, in the city of Oxford ; but as 
 it obstructed the road, it was at length taken down, and rebuilt 
 in this place at the expense of the Earl of Harcourt. 
 F2
 
 68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Smit with its charms, and buoy'd by hopes sublime, 
 
 To this successive groups essay to climb ; 
 
 But smooth the path, and hard the height to gain, 
 
 Hence wild adventurers topple to the plain ; 
 
 Rolling and tumbling o'er the turf they go, 
 
 And furnish merriment for crowds below. 
 
 Thus towards the Temple of immortal Fame, 
 
 Press thousands daily, her regard to claim, 
 
 But ere the blessing is attain'd they fall, 
 
 And blank oblivion shades them with her pall. 
 
 Now look beneath, and there you may descry 
 Joy in the bosom of security. 
 What brilliant crowds the valley promenade, 
 Stroll by the stream, or seek the woodland shade ; 
 There comfort seems her votaries to lead, 
 And pleasure bounds with lighter, quicker tread ; 
 So 'tis in life the sons of humble state 
 Dread not the dangers that surround the great. 
 But, lo ! at length the glowing, glorious sun, 
 Has near his destin'd daily circuit run ;
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 69 
 
 Seated again, the gather'd groups we see, 
 In circles form'd to sip their social tea ; 
 Meanwhile pass round the sportive wile and jest, 
 And all is sunshine in each placid breast. 
 Nought soils the soul, no sorrows rise from hence, 
 For here gay mirth is leagu'd with innocence. 
 But look, 'tis eve the parting hour is come 
 The rowers wait the boats all point to home. 
 Pleas'd, we retrace our passage up the stream, 
 Cheer'd by the light of Luna's lovely beam ; 
 And long remembrance o'er this day shall brood, 
 In busiest haunts and scenes of solitude, 
 And those who pleasure's spirit would recal 
 Will often think on Nuneham Festival.
 
 LINES 
 
 ON PASSING THROUGH A VILLAGE AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 d WHAT an awful stillness crowns this scene, 
 On which the moon looks down with placid mien! 
 No sound of toil or pleasure strikes the ear, 
 No moving forms in street or field appear ; 
 The crickets' cherup in the corn has ceas'd, 
 And sleep suspends each sense of man and beast. 
 Hush! all is silent zephyr dares not stir 
 To kiss the wave or waft the gossamer. 
 Serenely shine the glittering gems on high, 
 The brook reflects them back into the sky. 
 'Tis solemn midnight. Nature seems at rest 
 The dews descend to bathe the earth's cold breast, 
 And pensive night-flowers from their petals peep, 
 Where mellower beams upon the meadows sleep.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 71 
 
 No sinew now the toil-worn peasant strains, 
 
 But from repose a sweet refreshment gains ; 
 
 No brooding cares the busy housewife daunt, 
 
 Who schem'd and wrought to scare the spectre Want; 
 
 No more the farmer traverses his field 
 
 To calculate the profits it may yield ; 
 
 No longer pores the miser o'er his store 
 
 Or dreads the robber at his bolted door ; 
 
 No longer hopeless on her lonely bed 
 
 The youthful widow mourns her husband dead ; 
 
 The orphan weeps no longer o'er his woes, 
 
 In peace at length his tear-bleach'd eyelids close ; 
 
 And the dread genius of the day gone by, 
 
 Unfolds its features in eternity. 
 
 Blithe Fancy now fantastic visions forms 
 Here bright with sunshine, there o'ercast with storms. 
 The secret sinner, frantic, starts to find 
 Danger before him, and despair behind. 
 The youth, who long has strove with blameless wile 
 To win his rustic maid and fortune's smile,
 
 72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Now deems his fondest wishes all supplied 
 Fortune seems kind he clasps his chosen bride, 
 And feels his bosom with high raptures glow, 
 Such as reality could ne'er bestosv. 
 
 The wan consumptive feels unwonted heat, 
 Her spirits rise, her pulses gentlier beat; 
 Unwonted lustre sparkles in her eye, 
 Her cheeks assume a brighter, deeper dye ; 
 Her grow ing hopes the future grasp, while, lo ! 
 Death stoops to strike the fatal, final blow ! 
 
 In vain for her to-morrow's dawn shall bring 
 A day of rest on its unruffled wing. 
 In vain when Sol is o'er yon east hill borne, 
 The Sabbath bells shall greet the sacred morn : 
 But then blithe crowds, with busy bounding feet, 
 Shall pace the meadow path, and throng the street- 
 The village virgin, neatly, trimly dress'd, 
 And rustic youth, with posy at his breast ;
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 73 
 
 The aged tenant, and the love-link'd pair, 
 Toward the church together shall repair; 
 For in those aisles where now dull silence reigns, 
 Mercy shall soothe the sinner's mental pains; 
 And from the kindling heart, in cadence rude, 
 Burst the sweet song of glowing gratitude. 
 There love shall beckon from the world away, 
 And truth unfold the gates of heavenly day.
 
 LINES 
 
 WRITTEN 
 
 ON VISITING THE GRAVE OF MICKLE, 
 
 In Forest-hill Church-yard, near Oxford, Dec. 26, 1817. 
 
 JL IS good at times in solemn mood to stray 
 'Mid mansions where the silent dead decay ; 
 Till thence inspir'd the soul begins to rise, 
 Spurn the low earth, and claim her kindred skies. 
 This lonely Church-yard, where the peasant race 
 From age to age-have found a resting place, 
 Presents such varied objects to the sight 
 As strike the gazer with a sad delight ! 
 Here honour'd age, no more with pain oppress'd, 
 Lies like the infant by his side at rest. 
 There noblest worth, the virtuous, friendly, just, 
 \Vith youth and beauty moulder into dust.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 75 
 
 But lo! what heap 'mid yonder mounds appears, 
 Crown'd with the dewy morning's frozen tears! 
 'Tis MICKLE'S grave! Let heaven-born Sympathy 
 Pause o'er the spot and heave a pensive sigh ; 
 Let Pity weep, and let the Muse be near 
 To tune the sigh, and register the tear; 
 And let fond Genius string once more the lyre 
 To sound his dirge, then bid its strains expire. 
 
 Oh, gentlest MICKLE! once 'twas thine to feel 
 In Virtue's cause the noblest, manliest zeal; 
 When subtle Sophistry, with fiend-like guile, 
 Essay'd to cloud fair Truth's unfading gmile ; 
 Thy daring genius check'd the bold attempt, 
 And on the base contemner brought contempt.* 
 
 And when meek Pollio, bright in youth's fair mom, 
 From country, friends, and life itself was torn, 
 
 * Mickle wrote a pamphlet to refute the principle;* of 
 Hume.
 
 76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 'Twas thine to weave his worth in wreaths sublime, 
 That bloom o'er Death, and mock the rage of Time.* 
 Pourtray'd by thee still lives the deathful scene, 
 Where youthful Mary, Scotland's beauteous queen, 
 Long doom'd to linger in the gloomy cell, 
 To jealous rage at last a victim fell. 
 We see the hall in dreary black array'd, 
 WLere the fair sufferer rear'd her injur'd head ; 
 View the huge block, and mark the keen axe glow, 
 Till sad descends the vengeful murd'rous blow !f 
 
 With Ulla now we to the cavern hie, 
 To learn her absent lover's destiny ; 
 Behold the hag her potent charms prepare, 
 The blue flame rise, the spectre glide through air :J 
 
 * Pollio, the title of a beautiful Elegiac Ode on the Deatl 
 of the Poet's Brother. 
 
 f Mary, Queen of Scots, an Ode to commemorate the fat< 
 of that unfortunate Princess. 
 
 J Ulla; or the Sorceress: a singularly beautiful Ballad.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 77 
 
 Then hear thee " pour the strong poetic tide 
 " O'er Britain's shores in Lusitanian pride/'* 
 
 Enchanting poet, long thy nervous strains 
 Shall charm the scholar, and delight the swains; 
 But more thy virtues shall excite their praise, 
 For these alone were lovelier than thy lays. 
 What ! though remov'd from gorgeous vaults of state, 
 Thou rest not with the titled and the great ; 
 Though no carv'd urn or spirit-breathing bust 
 Smile o'er the spot where sleeps thy sacred dust; 
 Here Peace shall wave her guardian wing around, 
 And still thy grave with blooming sweets be crown'd : 
 Remembrance sad shall bid her pensive train 
 Long on the turf in museful mood remain ; 
 While that sweet siren, ever fair Renown, 
 Decks with thy laurels her resplendent crown. 
 
 * The performance on which Mickle's fame chiefly rests is 
 his elegant and spirited translation of the Lusiad.
 
 LINES 
 
 ADDRESSED TO MR. J. FISHER, 
 
 PAINTER AND ENGRAVER, OXFORD. 
 
 FlSHER, 'tis thine with matchless skill to trace 
 Each tint of beauty, and each line of grace ; 
 'Tis thine to give to forms sublimely wrought 
 Each charm of Nature bright'ning into thought ; 
 J Tis thine to bid fair youth's luxuriant bloom 
 Triumph o'er Time and mock the gaping tomb ; 
 Hence gentlest Love shall proffer the request 
 To mould the object dearest to his breast ; 
 And meek-ey'd Friendship urge thee to restore 
 The lost companion of her happier hour. 
 Proceed, ingenious Artist, then, and Fame 
 Shall own the justice of thy modest claim, 
 And, while the world the meed of praise bestows, 
 Her hand shall twine a wreath to deck thy brows.
 
 SONG. 
 
 Woman having rescued, by stratagem, her Husband, who was a 
 Prisoner of War, from the place of his confnement, sings the fol- 
 lowing Song, ai they are pursuing their journey homeward by 
 night.] 
 
 L^OME, Raymond, Raymond, speed along, 
 Dark fears upon my fancy throng, 
 For we are foreign wilds among, 
 
 With not a friend to guide us. 
 Rough, rough, and dreary is the road, 
 That leads to our once blest abode, 
 And hark ! from yonder bursting cloud, 
 
 The tempest seems to chide us. 
 
 O Raymond ! .1 have wander'd far, 
 Led by the light of Love's pure star, 
 Through scenes where slaughter drives his car, 
 To succour and to save thee.
 
 80 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And there full many a scheme I've plann'd 
 To bear thee from the foeman's band, 
 Who, raising high the vengeful brand, 
 Soon, soon of life would reave thee. 
 
 Success my daring toil has crown'd, 
 No prison walls thy form surround, 
 With quicker step then let us bound, 
 
 And fresh our spirits rally : 
 For see, the storm is roll'd away, 
 The smiling dawn leads on the day, 
 And yonder, clad in rich array, 
 
 Appears our native valley. 
 
 All hail, ye honour'd objects, hail, 
 Ye flow'ry lawns ; thou fertile dale, 
 And streamlet, where the fitful gale 
 In sportive mood is swelling.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 81 
 
 And hail, once more, ye forms so bright, 
 Quick rising to my raptur'd sight, 
 That crown with ever new delight, 
 The cotter's happy dwelling.
 
 HYMN. 
 
 JLORD of universal nature, 
 God of ev'ry living creature, 
 Light of morning, shade of even, 
 King of ocean, earth, and heaven, 
 Whilst I prostrate bow before thee, 
 Teach my spirit to adore thee. 
 
 Soul of love, and source of pleasure, 
 Mine of every richer treasure, 
 Guide of tempest, whirlwind, shower, 
 Ruler of each secret power, 
 Whilst for favour I implore thee, 
 Teach my spirit to adore thee. 
 
 Spring of river, lake, and fountain, 
 Strength of rock, of hill, and mountain,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 83 
 
 Breath of animal creation, 
 Life of varied vegetation, 
 Whilst I prostrate bow before thee, 
 Teaeh my spirit to adore thee. 
 
 First and last Eternal Being 
 All pervading and all seeing, 
 Centre of divine perfection, 
 Whence the planets learn subjection, 
 Whilst for favour I implore thee, 
 Teach my spirit to adore thee. 
 
 c '2
 
 A WREATH 
 
 FOR THE TOMB OF CHARLOTTE PRINCESS OF WALES. 
 
 W EAVE, weave the cypress wreath, 
 
 And twine the mournful yew, 
 For CHARLOTTE, summon'd hence by death, 
 Has bade the world adieu ! 
 
 In her we saw combin'd 
 
 Each virtue and each grace 
 That dignify the human kind, 
 
 And charm th' empyreal race. 
 
 In every scene of life 
 
 Throughout her span of days, 
 As Daughter, Princess, Friend, and Wife, 
 She claim'd superior praise.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 85 
 
 The angels saw her shine, 
 
 They knew, they priz'd her worth, 
 And pleas'd with charms, like theirs, divine, 
 Soon beckon'd her from earth. 
 
 Then weave no cypress wreath, 
 Nor twine the mournful yew, 
 For CHARLOTTE, summon'd hence by death, 
 To heav'n a seraph flew.
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 W HAT is man? a passing bubble, 
 Borne upon the stream of time, 
 Fraught with folly, care, and trouble, 
 Heir of sorrow slave of crime. 
 
 " What are all his hopes and pleasures ? 
 
 Gusts that terminate in grief: 
 What his most substantial treasures ? 
 
 Baubles yielding no relief. 
 
 " Smiles the prospect fair before him ? 
 
 Clasps he comfort to his core ? 
 Rains descend the winds pass o'er him, 
 
 And he's seen below no more !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 87 
 
 " Lord of earth, then why elated ? 
 
 Dust tliou art, and dust shalt be: 
 Child of heav'n, each task completed, 
 
 Honour, glory, waitelh thee. 
 
 " As the comet, bright'ning, burning, 
 
 To the sun directs her aim ; 
 So the soul, to heav'n returning, 
 
 Mingles with its parent flame. 
 
 ' Earthly things are fast decaying 
 
 Time's short period soon will cease j 
 See all nature wide displaying 
 
 Symptoms of her sad disease. 
 
 " From the universal ruin 
 
 Springs the free, undying soul, 
 Far Perfection's flight pursuing, 
 
 Void of fear beyond controul.
 
 88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 " O ! my son, let vice ne'er charm thee, 
 Cherish no unhallow'd fire ; 
 
 Strong in faith, with virtue arm thee, 
 And to endless bliss aspire." 
 
 At the silent hour of even, 
 Midst the mazes of a grove, 
 
 Free his admonitions giving 
 Sounded thus the voice of Love.
 
 METEORS. 
 
 oOFTLY sailing on glittering pinions, 
 
 We Meteors wanton through ether's dominions, 
 
 O'er the valley and o'er the mountain, 
 
 O'er the ocean, lake, and fountain ; 
 
 There we gambol, and there we glow, 
 
 While all is wrapt in gloom below. 
 
 Where the Bulbul his hymn is singing, 
 And perennial flowerets are springing ; 
 Where the diamond sands shine brightly, 
 To the planets wandering nightly ; 
 There in splendid pomp we sail, 
 Kindled by the glowing gale. 
 
 Where the sorcerer's caldron is boiling, 
 And the hag at her spell is toiling ;
 
 90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Where the Laplander sees no morning 
 His dreary winter skies adorning; 
 There we bolder, brighter glow, 
 And light the rein-deer through the snow. 
 
 Softly in Tuscan twilight bowers, 
 Where music charms the midnight hours, 
 While groups enweave the flying measure, 
 And tune their youthful souls to pleasure, 
 We catch the glance that fires each eye, 
 And bear it with us through the sky. 
 
 Where the savage prowlers are roaming, 
 And the wild Niag'ra is foaming ; 
 Where cannibals join in bloody battle, 
 And shrill resounds the serpent's rattle, 
 We float around the horrid heath, 
 And gild the gloomy scene of death. 
 
 Where the vet'ran on fate is pondering ; 
 Where the sly assassin is wandering ;
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 91 
 
 Where the haunted sinner is sleeping, 
 And the slave on his mat is weeping ; 
 There we flutter there we stray, 
 And drink the dews of health away. 
 
 From caverns of sulphur and nitre springing 
 Our way through air behold UB winging, 
 O'er the valley and o'er the mountain, 
 O'er the river, lake, and fountain ; 
 There we glitter, and there we glow, 
 While all is wrapt in gloom below.
 
 SONG. 
 
 IvEST, zephyr, rest, my Rosa singi, 
 Repose awhile thy wanton wings j 
 Waves as ye gently glide along, 
 Mar not my Rosa's magic song. 
 
 Thou throstle in the hawthorn bush, 
 Thy wildly warbled vesper hush, 
 My Rosa's melting lay of love, 
 Shall teach thee higher joys to prove. 
 
 Moon, softly shine, the pearly stream 
 Sweetly reflects thy radiant beam ; 
 But Rosa's eyes that sparkling roll, 
 More heavenly bright reflect her soul.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 93 
 
 Beauty and Grace together meet, 
 And own my Rosa's form complete ; 
 Truth, love, and virtue, all combine, 
 And freight her breast with charms divine. 
 
 The strain hath ceas'd ; yet still her beam 
 The moon flings o'er the rippling stream ; 
 Now, zephyr, wake, waves bear along 
 The burden of my Rosa's song. 
 
 Thou throstle, try thy pow'rs again, 
 Take up my Rosa's melting strain ; 
 And tell the valley, hill, and grove, 
 No joys are like the joys of love.
 
 TO MORNING. 
 
 JL HY breeze, O Morn, wafts vigour to my soul, 
 There langour plies no more her strong control ; 
 Thy aspect brightens, and I see before me, 
 One scene of beauty one wide field of glory. 
 
 Calm glides the murm'ring wand'rer of the vales, 
 Imparting freshness to th' enamour'd gales ; 
 From thousand shrines, with od'rous sweetness teeming, 
 Thy incense, Nature, gratefully is streaming. 
 
 Hark ! the wild bees loud singing as they rove 
 Hark ! the full chorus of the vocal grove 
 Now young-ey'd Spring her richest robe's displaying, 
 And fleecy flocks through pleasant pastures straying.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 95 
 
 O it is sweet to view the flushes meek, 
 That glow and fade Upon Aurora's cheek ; 
 'Tis sweet to view her smiles the sea adorning, 
 And drink the genial spirit of the morning. 
 
 Hill after hill, the cheerful cotter climbs, 
 Shrill through the glade resound the early chimes ; 
 The sun soft gleaming gilds the village tower, 
 And tips with livelier tints the ivy'd bower. 
 
 O that 'twere mine in orient climes to rove 
 Where golden fruitage gilds the spangled grove ; 
 There to the Attic minstrel's descant listen, 
 While spices breathe and gems around me glisten. 
 
 But why, my fancy, rove to orient vales, 
 
 There breeds infection death rides on the gales : 
 
 There few the boon of liberty inherit, 
 
 Langour unstrings the nerves and wastes the spirit.
 
 96 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then welcome, native England, though thy clime 
 "Be fickle, and thy scenery less sublime ; 
 Here rosy Health seems every form caressing, 
 And Freedom roves unchecked, a gen'ral blessing. 
 
 And welcome Morn, thrice welcome to my soul, 
 Scar'd from thy presence clouds and sadness roll ; 
 Still shine effulgent let me see before me 
 One scene of beauty one wide field of glory.
 
 JULIA. 
 
 i. 
 
 JULIA wept ! her glist'ning tears 
 
 Were like the silr'ry drops of dew, 
 Which from the rosy clouds of ev'ning fall. 
 
 Julia sigh'd ! her moan was soft, 
 
 Yet sad and plaintive as the note 
 Of feather'd minstrel, bound in hopeless thrall. 
 
 2. 
 
 Julia smil'd ! her glance was bright 
 
 As moonbeam on the glassy lake, 
 When not a wave is o'er its surface driven. 
 
 Julia spoke ! her voice was clear 
 
 And tuneful as the seraph's tongue, 
 That tells the dying wretch his crimes are all forgiven. 
 
 H
 
 THE 
 
 ROSE OF THE VALLEY. 
 
 JHLASTE, comrades, we'll fly to the wild cavern' d rocks, 
 And rest where the streamlet his treasure unlocks ; 
 I've gain'd the fair prize that so long was denied me, 
 I've borne her from those who so boldly defied me. 
 
 Then let the proud Southron lament for his boast, 
 To him the bright gem of his bosom is lost ; 
 Ay, let him his troops and his vassals now rally, 
 They'll never regain the sweet r6se of the valley. 
 
 In youth my heart sought her her love she reveal'd, 
 Her parents approving our passion beheld ; 
 The cause of my King claim'd my aid I was banish'd 
 They scorn'd me contemn'd: yet my hope was not 
 vanish'd.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 99 
 
 The eagle in fright may descend from the rock, 
 The wolf may be scar'd from his feast on the flock ; 
 But once set the prize of a Lover before him, 
 No dangers can daunt him no (roubles o'erpow'r him. 
 
 The rose of the valley by promise was mine, 
 'Twas a flow'r in my garland I vow'd to entwine ; 
 Her guard was an host in that clan ev'ry craven 
 Lies stretch'd now a prey to the vulture and raven. 
 
 Away then let's hasten, the prize is obtain'd, 
 We'll fly till our home in the rocks we have gain'd ; 
 There heroes with joy round my standard shall rally, 
 And welcome their chief and his rose of the valley. 
 
 H2
 
 SONG, 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A LADY. 
 TUNE." The Rosebud of Summer:' . 
 
 JL HE bright beam of beauty Alphonzo arraying, 
 Broke fair o'er his form as the moon o'er the main ; 
 
 When far in the orient her crescent displaying, 
 She rises triumphant in glory to reign. 
 
 O then in my bosom I felt an emotion 
 
 Burst warm from my heart and distil through each 
 
 vein, 
 Love, honour, confusion, hope, joy, and devotion, 
 
 With rapture inspir'd me, distress'd me with pain. 
 
 O! sweet is the spirit of youthful affection, 
 The earliest impressions the longest remain, 
 
 For time, that holds kingdoms and worlds in subjection, 
 May veil, but to raze them his efforts are vain.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 101 
 
 Thus figures that deep in the firm rock are graven, 
 Long beat by the tempest, the whirlwinds, and rain, 
 
 With moss may be cover'd, or rank weeds high waving, 
 But the firm rock those figures will ever retain,
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 I WOULD not always be confin'd 
 
 Within the gay parterre, 
 For groves and meadows to my mind 
 
 At times more fair appear. 
 
 No strain Art ever taught to flow 
 In triumph from the string, 
 
 Should lure rny bosom to forego 
 The melody of spring. 
 
 Nor would I always con the lay 
 Where mirth with magic meets, 
 
 Lest fancy, turn'd from truth astray, 
 Be surfeited with sweets.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 103 
 
 Exotics flourish for awhile, 
 
 And fair may be their form 
 Give me the hardy plant whose smile 
 
 Defies the wintry storm.
 
 SONG, 
 
 TO A GENTLEMAN WHO COMPLAINED THAT HIS ADDRESSES WERE 
 NOT WELL RECEIVED. 
 
 JM. ARK how the glorious orb of day, 
 Which on the landscape loves to gleam, 
 
 Disperses all the mist away, 
 And melts the ice that bound the stream 
 And see how, like the buoyant steam, 
 
 By secret force far upward drawn, 
 la vapoury folds it feeds his beam, 
 
 Or hangs in drapery round his throne. 
 
 So Love maintains his strong controul ; 
 
 So bright the god's resistless fire ; 
 It gilds the darkest, dullest soul, 
 And wakes each slumb'ring soft desire.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 105 
 
 Fond hopes and wishes hence aspire 
 To feed his kindly kindling flame j 
 
 Sweet glory weaves his gay attire, 
 And joy and pleasure lake his name. 
 
 Then tell me not with maid so young, 
 That vain are all thy vows and sighs; 
 
 Let simple truth adorn thy tongue, 
 And love sit smiling in thine eyes: 
 And, trust me, stars shall quit the skies, 
 
 And wild birds cease to wing the air, 
 Ere she reject the offer'd prize, 
 
 Or doom her lover to despair.
 
 TO THE 
 
 MEMORY OF A FRIEND. 
 
 the temperate board is set, 
 
 Gay smiles adorn blithe Pleasure's mien ; 
 Again the social group are met, 
 
 With whom so oft I've happy been ; 
 
 But he, alas ! no more is seen, 
 Whose presence rous'd the soul of mirth ; 
 
 His converse glads no more the scene, 
 He rests him deep in foreign earth. 
 
 O youth, thine is a joyful tide, 
 
 How sweetly flow thine early hours ; 
 
 For thee Hope flings her portals wide, 
 And Fancy wreathes her fairest flowers j
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 107 
 
 O'er ev'ry ill thy spirit towers, 
 She glows with toil, she smiles at pain 
 
 Mirth buds 'mid Sorrow's transient showers, 
 And distant terrors threat in vain. 
 
 Yet the first star that gems the skies 
 
 Sinks soonest in the western wave ; 
 The form that glads the gazer's eyes, 
 
 Fast fading, finds the earliest grave : 
 
 Fate strikes ! and who his prey can save ? 
 O Merit, vain are all thy charms, 
 
 Ere thou thy well-earn'd meed can'st crave, 
 Death loves to clasp thee in his arms ! 
 
 And though when first Affection's glow 
 Thrills the young tenant of the breast ; 
 
 'Tis her's to feel 'tis her's to know, 
 The kindling raptures of the blest ;
 
 108 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Yet doubly is the heart distress'd, 
 Left early desolate forlorn 
 
 Of peace, it may be repossess'd, 
 But youth's first fires will ne'er return. 
 
 Then spirit, rudely reft away, 
 
 Could'st thou, from thy calm seat above 
 
 Again thine earliest friends survey, 
 Who firmer bands of faith have wove, 
 Methinks thou would'st their zeal approve, 
 
 To seize the minutes as they roll, 
 
 And share with them the fire of love 
 
 The feast of mind the flow of soul. 
 
 But perish'd is thy wonted boast- 
 Thy matchless worththy smile serene 
 Thy rich acquirements all are lost 
 
 Thy virtues as they ne'er had been ;
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 109 
 
 And thou, alas ! no more art seen, 
 No more thy presence kindles mirth ; 
 
 Thy converse glads no more the scene, 
 Thy form lies low in foreign earth '.
 
 JULIAN'S SONG. 
 
 J. PLUCK'D a rose-bud from its parent tree, 
 And plac'd it on the young Arclelia's bosom, 
 And oh ! when there, methought 'twas heav'n to see 
 So fair a pillow bear so sweet a blossom. 
 
 " And must I own I envy'd the chaste flower ; 
 
 For Cupid fann'd it with his downy pinion : 
 I sigh'd I languished then, and from thai hour, 
 
 Became a subject under his dominion. 
 
 " Yes and I pray that, like this bud at last, 
 Upon Ardelia's breast I may repose me, 
 
 Imparadis'd, till life's short sojourn pass'd, 
 The gaping tomb shall in its fold enclose me.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Ill 
 
 " And when to earth my cold remains decay, 
 O may a rose-tree spring from them and blossom, 
 
 Then love-smit youths, who to the spot may stray, 
 Shall pluck its bud to deck some fair one's bosom." 
 
 Thus pensively a child of fancy sung ; 
 
 His faded eyes bespoke the fervent lover ; 
 Joy tun'd his heart, and melody his tongue ; 
 
 But Julian's hopes and magic lay are over.
 
 SONG. 
 
 JT ARK ! is it the soft-sighing spirit of wind, 
 Or aerial strain of some light passing fairy, 
 
 Or Naiad on Thame's pearly bosom reclin'd ? 
 O no 'tis the soul-soothing song of my Mary. 
 
 O sweet is the token to love ever dear, 
 
 And pleasant the haven to mariners weary ; 
 
 But far more enchanting those accents to hear, 
 That flow from the lips of my lovely young Mary. 
 
 The numbers she breathes my wrapt senses control, 
 While echoes enamour'd around her form tarry, 
 
 And waft ev'ry pleasure serene to my soul 
 
 That floats round the harp of my beauteous young Mary.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 113 
 
 Refreshing as dew-drops to Flora's gay train, 
 
 Or fragrance that zephyrs on downy wings carry, 
 
 And pensively soft as sad Philomel's strain, 
 
 Is the glance is the smile is the song of my Mary. 
 
 O! when some fond youth to the altar divine, 
 
 Where Hy men presides,lovely maiden, shall bear thee, 
 
 I'll pray that the sun of delight may still shine 
 
 With ne'er-fading beams round the path of my Mary.
 
 TO ANGELINA, 
 
 ON HER RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS. 
 
 PALE, pale are those fair cheeks, that form is decay'd, 
 
 Those mild orbs of vision are dim ; 
 Enervate reclines on the pillow that head 
 Which sweetly arose once in sunshine array'd, 
 
 And cold sweat-drops distil on each limb. 
 
 Yet fleet-pinion'd Mercy, commission'd by heaven, 
 
 Approaches to succour and save ; 
 And soon shall Affliction foul agent be driven 
 Far, far from that bosom which well nigh was riven 
 
 With the sharp pangs her keen arrows gave.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS oEMS. 115 
 
 Then cheer, ANGELINA, O cheer thee, I pray, 
 
 Let Hope these sad bodings beguile ; 
 When the night-storm is passing we welcome the ray 
 Which, struggling through darkness, leads on the young 
 day, 
 
 Who glads the whole earth with his smile. 
 
 What, though painful and dreary the road thou hast 
 pass'd, 
 
 Health and gladness shall greet thee to-morrow ; 
 Then quick to the winds let thy troubles be cast, 
 O heart-honour'd Maid, and in pleasure at last 
 
 Forget all thy anguish and sorrow. 
 
 i 2
 
 THE 
 
 STUDENT'S FAREWELL. 
 
 -T AREWELL to the towers ! farewell to the bowers 
 
 Where the sage wizard Art all his charms hath dis- 
 
 play'd, 
 
 And sweet Science cowers, amongst bright blooming 
 flowers, 
 
 In gay robes of glory majestic array'd ! 
 Farewell, banks of Isis ! tliou fair scene of blisses, 
 
 The Muse', Loves', and Graces' invariable seat! 
 Your silver soft stream, like the tide of Ilissus, 
 
 Aye, freshens the airs of Hygeia's retreat. 
 
 Ye cloisters low bending, and proudly extending, 
 To cherish young Genius and Taste in your gloom : 
 
 The spirit befriending, as, softly ascending, 
 
 It mounts in pure incense to heav'n's vaulted dome :
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 117 
 
 From you I must sever ! then farewell for ever 
 
 Each heart-honour'd object that swells my last theme ! 
 
 The world is a field I must enter but never 
 
 Can ought charm my soul like your shades ACADEME !
 
 ODE. 
 
 J. HE leaves of Autumn strew the path, 
 Where blustering Boreas pass'd in wrath, 
 With humid wing and blighting breath, 
 Through garden, grove, and shrubbery. 
 
 The fields no longer glow with grain, 
 No flow'ret decks the cheerless plain ; 
 But lo ! the river swoln with rain, 
 O'erflows its ancient boundary. 
 
 The sun emits a fainter ray, 
 Rude tempests mar the smile of day, 
 And eve comes early, clad in grey, 
 To veil the alter'd scenery.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 119 
 
 No more the feather'd warbling throng 
 Pour forth their sweetly-simple song, 
 The woods and echoing vales among, 
 To charm the lab'ring peasantry. 
 
 Cherwell! as my course I bear 
 Along thy chequer'd margin, where 
 Are strew'd the honours of the year, 
 My bosom beateth heavily. 
 
 For soon this wandering eye may close 
 Upon its charms this heart that glows 
 May sink untimely to repose, 
 Mid scenes of dull mortality. 
 
 Then happier beings far shall rove, 
 And mark the changes of this grove, 
 Where first my artless lays I wove 
 Of mournful, moral minstrelsy.
 
 120 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 But they will ne'er bestow a thought 
 Upon my wayward, lowly lot 
 So I shall ever rest forgot, 
 The tenant of obscurity. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Munday and S latter, Printers, Oxford.
 
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