UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
AT LOS ANGELES
JS
Huvtr^ f£.oJLJu^a C^^-i'^U
'U-^i*^^,
THE ATHENy€UM PRESS SERIES
G. L. KITTREDGE and C. T. WINCHESTER
GENERAL EDITORS
TTbe
atbcna^um press Series.
This series is intended to furnish a
library of the best English literature
from Ciiaucer to the present time in a
form adapted to the needs of both the
student and the general reader. The
works selected are carefully edited, with
biographical and critical introductions,
full explanatory notes, and other neces-
sary apparatus.
FLAXMAN'S BAS-RELIEF OF COLLINS.
. |ilir,tojfrapll of tile orijfinal in Chichester Cathedral. Tlie poet
.IS rcadinj; the New Testament (sec pp. xxiv. xxvi). while his
on the Passions lies neKleited on the tic.or.
Htbena^um press Series
THE
Poems of William Collins
Edited with Introduction and Notes
WALTER C. BRONSON, A.M.
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN BROWN UNIVERSITY
BOSTON, U.S.A.
GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
COI'YKIGHT, iSgS/liV
WALTER C. BRONSON
ALL RKIHTS RESF.RVFD
TO MY MOTHER
I
I
Si
426405
PREFACE
o:«4c
The need for a new edition of Collins is obvious. Dyce's
edition, in many ways so admirable, has long been out of
print. The Aldine Collins^ with many merits, yet leaves
much to be desired. Of the other current editions even
the best lay no claim to originality or comprehensiveness,
while the worst are almost incredibly careless reprints of
careless predecessors. The present edition is at least of
broader scope than any which has hitherto appeared. It
contains (i) a critical text carefully transcribed from the
original editions ; (2) variant readings, with their sources
and comparative value set forth ; (3) numerous notes,
including a good deal of new illustrative material ; (4) a
biographical sketch based so far as possible upon original
records (newly verified) and the statements of the poet's
contemporaries, the sources and their relative trustworthi-
ness being indicated ; (5) a comprehensive and systematic
study of the poetry of Collins.
In poems which exist in more than one form, the text that
seems to represent the poet's last revision has been adopted,
other readings being given a place at the foot of the page.
The capitalization of the original editions, in which nearly
every noun begins with a capital, has been abandoned for
modern usage. Punctuation has been changed as little as
possible, but when the sense required I have not hesitated to
repoint freely; in the few instances where the meaning may
fairly be considered doubtful, either the original punctuation
has been retained or the change has been recorded in the
viii PREFACE.
notes. Breathings and accents have been affixed to quo-
tations in Greek. In some of the odes, divisional headings
have been supplied where they were omitted in the original
edition or were indicated by figures only. Foot-notes signed
" C." are by Collins.
It is a pleasant duty to acknowledge my obligations to
the friends and strangers who have aided me "in this work.
To the authorities of the Harvard. University Library, of
the British Museum, and of the South Kensington Museum
I am indebted for access to original editions and collateral
material ; to the curates of St. Peter's the Great and the
Church of St. Andrew, Chichester, for opportunity to exam-
ine the parish records of Collins's baptism and burial ; to
the Warden of Winchester College, for transcripts of the
records of Collins's admission and superannuation at that
school, with other particulars; to the Vice-Chancellor, the
President of Magdalen College, the Keeper of the Archives,
and Professor A. S. Napier, — all of Oxford University, — for
transcripts of the university records regarding Collins and
for other courtesies ; to Professor Frank M. Bronson, of the
Academy of Chicago University, for the translations (not
otherwise accredited) from the Greek and Latin, and for
most of the accompanying notes ; to Professors John M.
Manly, Francis G. Allinson, and Joseph N. Ashton, and Mr.
R. E. Neil Dodge, now or formerly my colleagues in Brown
University, and to Professor Francis B. Gummere, of Haver-
ford College, for assistance upon sundry points; and to
Dr. Daniel H. Fuller, formerly First Assistant Physician in
the McLean Hospital for the Insane, for an opinion on the
causes and nature of Collins's insanity. To Professor George
L. Kittredge, who has read the whole book in manuscript
and in proof, I wish to express my special thanks for many
valuable criticisms and suggestions.
W. C. B.
Providence, R. I., Sept. 30, 1898.
CONTENTS.
oXKo
INTRODUCTION
I. The Life of Collins
II. The Alleged Neglect of Collins in the
Eighteenth Century ....
III. Collins and Romanticism . . . ,
IV. The Poetry of Collins: an Appreciation,
XXX
xxxix
Ivii
APPENDIX
A. The Structure of the Odes ..... Ixv
B. References to Collins in the Eighteenth
Century Ixxvi
C. Bibliography Ixxix
POEMS
To Miss Aurelia C
Sonnet
Song
ETC.
Verses Written on a Paper, etc. .
A Song from Shakespear's Cymbeline
Oriental Eclogues
An Epistle Addresst to Sir Thomas Hanmer,
' — Ode to Pity
L-^ Ode to Fear
u Ode to Simplicity
*-' Ode on the Poetical Character .
Ode Written in the Beginning of the Year 1746
3
3
3
4
6
7
23
35
36
39
41
43
3C CONTENTS.
VKGB.
Ode to Mercy
Ode to Liberty .
Ode to a Lady
44
45
51
'^ Ode to Evening . . 53 ^
Ode to Peace cc
The Manners c6
\^ The Passions y^
Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson .... 65
An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the
Highlands of Scotland 67
NOTES 77
INTRODUCTION.
o>«., dark] com-
says : " Collins is buried under the pew in the church [of St. Andrew],
belonging to the house ; a stone tablet on the wall above." The tablet,
however, which also records the death of several other members of the
family, does not say that the poet is buried beneath.
1 Seward's Siipple^nent to Anecdotes of Some Distinguished Persons,
London, 1797, p. 125. In The European JMagazine, October, 1795,
another version of the anecdote is given, according to which the occa-
sion of the pun was his coming into a town the day after the lady had
left it.
2 See p. 109, and the variant readifig of 1. 37 in the Ode to a Lady.
■^ See the frontispiece in the Aldine Collins.
* See frontispiece. ^ See p. xxxiii.
xxvill INTRODUCTION.
plexion, keen, expressive eyes, and a fixed, sedate aspect,
which from intense thinking had contracted an habitual
frown." ^
Collins's personality in its main outlines is apparent from
the foregoing sketch of his life. A few details maybe added
from the statements of his friends. White wrote of him that
"he was passionately fond of music, good-natured and affa-
ble, warm in his friendships, and visionary in his pursuits."
Ragsdale reports that " he was an acceptable companion
everywhere"; that he was accustomed to make "' diverting
observations on the vanity and false consequence " of the
" geniuses " who frequented the coffee-houses, and that "his
manner of relating them to his particular friends was ex-
tremely entertaining." Johnson says that Collins's" knowledge
[was] considerable, his views extensive, his conversation
elegant, and his disposition chearful." He has faithfully
recorded that in the first stages of the malady which clouded
his closing years Collins "eagerly snatched that temporary
relief with which the table and the bottle flatter and seduce."
Johnson's summary of the poet's moral character deserves
reprinting once more, in spite of its formality. The manifest
struggle in it between fidelity to truth and tenderness for the
memory of a dear friend reveals Johnson as well as Collins,
and increases our confidence in the accuracy of the portrait,
so far as Johnson could understand a man like Collins :
" His morals were pure, and his opinions pious ; in a long
continuance of poverty and long habits of dissipation, it can-
not be expected that any character should be exactly uniform.
There is a degree of want by which the freedom of agency
is almost destroyed ; and long association with fortuitous
1 Langhorne makes no mention of having seen Collins ; but he was
writing within six years after the poet's death, and had many literary
friends in London, some of whom very likely had known Collins.
White's description was written twenty-two years after Collins's death.
INTRODUCTION. xxix
companions will at last relax the strictness of truth, and
abate the fervour of sincerity. That this man, wise and virtu-
ous as he was, passed always unentangled through the snares
of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to affirm; but it
may be said that at least he preserved the source of action
unpolluted, that his principles were never shaken, that his
distinctions of right and wrong were never confounded, and
that his faults had nothing of malignity or design, but
proceeded from some unexpected pressure or casual tempta-
tion."
It is evident that Collins was a good deal of a puzzle to
Johnson. The latter saw the contradictions in his friend's
nature, but could not understand them ; and, truly, in his
statement of them the contradictions seem irreconcilable.
In particular, the hint that Collins was sometimes lacking
in truth and sincerity is inconsistent with Johnson's warm
admiration for his character as a whole. The attempt to lay
the blame upon bad company is more charitable than pene-
trating. We may be sure that a more subtle interpreter
would have seen more unity in the poet's sensitive, imagina-
tive nature, and would have found the key to passages in
his life which the sturdy Moralist could only wonder at and
excuse. But on the main question we may take Johnson's
word with absolute confidence. Samuel Johnson had an
instinct for the genuine ; and he accepted Collins, with all
his mystery and contradictions, as a lovable and true man.-^
1 The following statement is worth reprinting, for the light it throws
upon the poet's nature, although it may be unjust to his sister. The
editor of the Akiine Collins says that the sister's will affords evidence
that she separated from Dr. Durnford, her second husband, and her
step-son's testimony as to her character must, therefore, be regarded with
suspicion. "The Rev. Mr. Durnford, who resided at Chichester, and
was the son of Dr. D., informed me in August, 1795, that the sister of
Collins loved money to excess, and evinced so outrageous an aversion
to her brother, because he squandered or gave away to the boys in the
INTRO D UCTION.
II. THE ALLEGED NEGLECT OF COLLINS IN THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
It is the common impression that the poetry of Collins
was not appreciated in his own day, and that it lay neglected
and almost unknown for nearly half a century after his
death. While this impression has some foundation, it is
far from being the precise truth. For one thing, it fails to
distinguish between appreciation and popularity. Collins's
poetry was not popular in the last century. It cannot
strictly be said to be popular in the present century ; but
it has acquired what may be called a popularity at second
hand : it has taken its place amid standard poetry, Collins's
name is coupled with Gray's, and people feel that they ought
to know about him whether they do know or not. This sort
of reflected fame, of course, did not come to Collins at once,
although its beginnings may be found a good while before
the end of the last century.
In the matter of appreciation by a chosen few, in distinc-
tion from popularity, the main difference between the earlier
and the later view is that Collins's critics in the eighteenth
century did not realize the significance of his work in the
historical development of English literature. They saw many
of the beauties of his poems considered as isolated works of
art ; but they did not see, and could hardly be expected to
see, that he represented a transition between the old school
cloisters whatever money he had, that she destroyed, in a paroxysm of
resentment, all his papers, and whatever remained of his enthusiasm for
poetry, as far as she could. Mr. Ilayley told me, when I visited him at
Eartham, that he had obtained from her a small drawing by Collins;
but it possessed no other value than as a memorial that the bard had
attempted to handle the pencil as well as the pen."— MS. note by
T. Park, Esq., in his copy of Collins's poems, afterwards in the posses-
sion of Mr. Mitford ; quoted in Dyce's Collins, p. *39.
INTRODUCTION. xxxi
of poetry and a new. It was the triumph of Romanticism in
English literature at the beginning of the nineteenth century
which brought Collins into new prominence, and established
his fame on a broader basis. It is also true that the
roma-ntic elements in his poetry were those least relished at
first. But there is abundant proof that Collins was appre-
ciated fairly well, on the whole, by the more intelligent
readers in his own century. The very references to him as
" neglected " prove that the judicious, at least, already knew
his worth, and that he had missed rather of popularity than
of appreciation. In particular it appears that relatively too
much has usually been made of Johnson's obtuse critique,
and of Cowper's ignorance, until late in life, that there was
such a poet as William Collins.
The evidence from the successive reprints of the poems
may be found in detail in the Bibliography} It is clear that
there was, almost from the first, a considerable demand for
the Eclogues., and after a few years a steady though moderate
demand for the Odes. It is also clear that some time before
the close of the century Collins had already taken his posi-
tion among the standard English poets, although he was not
yet sufficiently distinguished from the Wartons and White-
heads and other small fry.
Analogous evidence is that furnished by the musical per-
formance of certain of the Odes. Reference has already
been made to the performance at Oxford, during the poet's
lifetime, of The Passio7is. The present editor has recently
discovered that the Ode to Eve}ii?ig was also set to music,
and performed in London in 1785. In the British Museum
is a manuscript of the words and music- with the following
note : " Performed for the first time at The Academy of
Ancient Music, Free Masons Hall, Great Queen St., Lincolns
1 See AppC7idix, C.
2 Add. MSS. 27636, f. 59.
xxxil INTRODUCTION.
Inn, April 14, 1785. (By request of Mr. Butler.) I. W. Call-
cott." The manuscript consists of twenty-six pages. A list
of instruments is given, showing that sixteen were used,
besides an organ. The latter was played by Dr. Cooke,
the organist of Westminster Abbey ; the first violinist -was
the famous Luigi Borghi ; and of the thirteen singers four
were well known in their day. Altogether it was a distin-
guished company. At the end of the score is the entry," 23
minutes long. March 29, 1785."^
Another class of evidence consists of biographical sketches
and other memorials of the poet. These are scanty ; but a
partial explanation may be found in the fact that on account
of Collins's mental disease and his secluded life he was
practically an exile from the great world for several years
before he died. His death, in 1759, apparently was not
recorded, at the time, in any publication. The Biographical
Dictionary, published in London in 1 761, in twelve volumes,
contained no mention of him. The earliest biographical
sketch of Collins seems to have appeared in The Poetical
Calendar iox December, 1763. This stated most of the facts
with some accuracy, although giving 1756 as the year of
his death, and concluded with a sketch of his character by
Johnson. It was reprinted in The Gentlemati' s Magazine for
January, 1764. Langhorne's edition of Collins, in 1765,
contained a short memoir of the poet. Johnson's life
of Collins (including the character-sketch already printed)
appeared in 1779 as a preface to Collins's poems in The
Efiglish Poets. Finally, in 1789, the poet obtained honorable
sepulture in the Biographia Britannica in an article of several
pages, made up chiefly from Langhorne and Johnson, with
long critical eulogies from The Monthly Revieui.
The dust of the poet had now long lain in his native city
1 In fairness it should be added that Joseph Warton's Ode to Fancy,
set to music, is in tlie same volume.
INTRODUCTION. XXXlll
without local memorial save for a line on the family tablet
in St. Andrew's Church. But in 1789 steps were taken for
the erection of a monument to him. In The Gentleman^s
Magazine for December of that year is a letter from Chiches-
ter, signed " W. G.," announcing the project and inquiring for
portraits of " the venerable poet." ^ The same magazine, in
September, 1795, contains a statement that the monument
has been erected by "public subscription "; Flaxman's bas-
relief is described, and the epitaph follows.^ The latter has
four lines which are especially significant for their bearing
on the question at issue :
Strangers to him, enamoured of his lays,
This fond memorial of his talents raise ;
For this the ashes of a bard require,
Who touched the tenderest notes of pity's lyre.
The critical notices of Collins's poetry during the second
half of the last century are more numerous, and often more
enthusiastic, than is commonly supposed.^
The earliest known estimate of the Odes is from the hand
of Gray. In a letter written a few days after the Odes
appeared, he speaks of the author as having " a fine fancy,
modelled upon the antique, a bad ear, great variety of words
and images, with no choice at all." In view of Gray's
fastidious coldness of temperament, this is no mean praise.
His opinion that both Collins and Joseph Warton " deserve
to last some years, but will not," is censure of the public
taste, not of the poetry.
Shortly before the death of Collins, Goldsmith wrote of
him : " The neglected author of the Persian Eclogues, which,
however inaccurate, excel any in our language, is still alive ;
happy, if insensible of our neglect, not raging at our ingrati-
1 See Appendix, B.
2 See Appendix, B, for more extended quotations from several of these
notices.
xxxiv INTRODUCTION.
tude," ^ The reference does more credit to the writer's
heart than to his knowledge of Collins's poetry ; but it
shows a feeling on Goldsmith's part, and doubtless on that
of his literary set in London, that the poet then living in
pitiful seclusion at Chichester had been a spirit of no com-
mon sort.^
The Afojithly Review, a leading magazine of the time,
reviewed the second edition of the Eclogues in 1757, and
the Odes in 1764 upon their republication, not long before,
in T/ie Poetical CaleJidar. Whatever other strictures might
be made upon these critical performances, they cannot be
charged with lack of warmth. In the earlier notice the
Eclogues are called " beautiful " and are highly praised in
detail. Collins is referred to as " the too much neglected
author " of the Odes ; and these are credited with " elegance "
and " picturesque genius." In the later notice Collins is
said to have " a luxuriance of imagination, a wild sublimity
of fancy, and a felicity of expression so extraordinary that it
might be supposed to be suggested by some superior power."
If this is not criticism, at least it is rapture. The reviewer
goes on to say that Collins " will indisputably bear away
the palm from all his competitors " in lyric poetry, and that
he "was too great to be popular." This within five years
after the poet's early death.
The next year, Collins found his first editor in the person
of Rev. Dr. Langhorne, himself a poet of some grace. The
worth of the reverend gentleman's praise is considerably
damaged by the abundance of it ; occasionally, however, as
in the following sentence, he says something which is dis-
criminative and shows real appreciation : " Milton was noto-
1 Enquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning in Europe, Lon-
don, 1774, p. 107. (The first edition appeared in April, 1759.)
2Cf. Johnson's letter to J. Warton, April 15, 1756: " What becomes
of poor dear Collins ? . . . That man is no common loss."
INTRO D UC TION. XXXV
riously fond of high romance, and Gothic diableries, and
Collins, who in genius and enthusiasm bore no very distant
resemblance to Milton, was wholly carried away by the same
attachments."
Johnson's criticism of his friend's poetry is painfully
familiar to lovers of Collins. But the bits of praise half
hidden amid the censure have not always received the atten-
tion they merit. Johnson did not use words carelessly ; and
he meant all that he said when he wrote that Collins's
poems " are the productions of a mind not deficient in fire,
nor unfurnished with knowledge either of books or life," and
that his efforts " produced in happier moments sublimity
and splendor." As to the gross misjudgment in the critique
as a whole, every one knows that it resulted from limitations
in Johnson's personality and point of view. But it has not
always been known or remembered that, at the time when
the Lives of the Poets came out, Johnson by no means repre-
sented all England in matters of literary taste. The rising
tide of Romanticism was submerging old landmarks ; and
even those critics who, like the Literary Dictator, still stood
for the older tradition did not always endorse his judgment
in particular cases. It is easy, therefore, to over-estimate
the historical significance of his condemnation of Collins's
poetry ; and this has commonly been done.
A different phase of the matter is brought forward by Mr.
Dyce. He says : " In a manuscript letter by Beattie, in
.my possession, written immediately after the publication
of the Li7:es, mention is made of the severity with which
Milton, Gray, and even Littleton are handled by Johnson,
but no notice is taken of the treatment of Collins." Mr.
Dyce draws the inference that " Collins was an author so
little known, that few readers were aware of the injustice
of the doctor's criticism on his poetry." ^ The reasoning is
1 Dyce's Collins, p. 33.
XXXVl INTRODUCTION.
far from conclusive. Beattie may not have read the stric-
tures on Collins at the time of writing, or there may have
been other reasons. This negative sort of evidence is at
best unsatisfactory, particularly when it is limited to the
silence of one man in one letter. If the silence had been
universal, the argument would be strong ; but it was not
universal. Whether or not Beattie knew the injustice of
Johnson's criticism on Collins, there were those who knew
it and protested against it. In The Gentlemari' s Magazine
for January, 1782, appeared two letters, signed " Philo-
Lyrister" and " H.," defending Collins with much warmth.
Philo-Lyrister says : " I own that I felt myself hurt by the
liberties which he [Johnson] has taken with two of our
most celebrated lyric poets, viz.. Gray and Collins. . . . Let
Dr. Johnson, with all his erudition, produce me another
lyric ode equal to Collins's on the Passions ; indeed the
frequent public recitals of this last-mentioned poem are
a mark of its universally acknowledged excellence." The
letter is the more significant because the writer professes
to be an admirer of Johnson in general ; while its very
commonplaceness adds to its value as testimony upon the
point in hand, by showing that Collins's fame was already
spreading beyond the circle of the literary elect.
The letter by " H." is so appreciative, discriminating,
and scholarly that the part about Collins deserves reprinting
nearly in full: "In the Elegy, so generally thought original,
he [Gray] has borrowed much from a contemporary poet ;.
whoever compares it with Collins's Ode to Evening will find
such marks of particular imitation as are of more importance
than all those with which (jray ornamented the bottom of
his pages. . . . That exquisite stanza which once concluded
the Ehgy ... is still more immediately borrowed from
Collins than any of the rest ; the original passage is in
the Dirge in Cjmi'e/ine. . . . Collins has had the misfortune
INTRODUCTION. xxxvii
not to please Dr. J. [Johnson]. His works also are
encumbered with a mass of absurd criticisms, written
by his editor Langhorne, only to piece out a volume, and
his four eclogues are mere trash ; yet a part of his odes
will, notwithstanding, command the admiration of mankind,
as long as poetical genius or poetical taste shall remain in
the world."
These two letters, appearing in one magazine in the
same month, and called forth by an admiration for Collins's
poetry which would not allow Johnson's harsh verdict to go
unchallenged, must represent like sentiments held by many
readers of the Eclogues and the Odes. They far outweigh
the negative evidence from Beattie's silence. The case is
different, however, with Cowper's reference to Collins in a
letter to Newton, on March 19, 1784. His words are : " A
poet of no great fame, — of whom I did not know that he
existed till I found him there [in Johnson's Lives^ . . .
His name was Collins." But it should be remembered that
Cowper's circumstances were exceptional. His early years,
it is true, had been spent in the world ; but at that time
Collins was little known. Cowper's madness, and the mor-
bid religiousness which followed, transformed the elegant
trifler of the Inner Temple into a pious recluse. In the
atmosphere of strong theology and weak tea in which
Cowper henceforth passed his days, he was not likely to
make the acquaintance of a semi-pagan poet of limited
popularity. In fact when Cowper did hear of Collins at
last, his interest in him was not literary but religious.^
1 " I have lately finished eight volumes of Johnson's Prefaces, or
Lives of the Poets. In all that number I observe but one man, — a
poet of no great fame, — of whom I did not know that he existed till I
found him there, whose mind seems to have had the slightest tincture
of religion ; and he was hardly in his senses. His name was Collins." —
Cowper's Works, London, 1836, vol. V, p. 11.
xxxvui INTRODUCTION.
In short, as Johnson did not fully represent the literary
taste of England in the last quarter of the century, so
Cowper, by reason of peculiar circumstances, did not fully
represent its literary knowledge.^ As additional proof of
this may be mentioned the fact that in the next year a
writer in The European Magazine, speaks of Collins as
" the favoured child of poesy, whose productions in every
line bear the most indubitable stamp of that divine enthusi-
asm which characterizes genius."^ Of like purport is the
honor paid to the Oriental Eclogues, in 1785, by an entire
essay being devoted to them in a volume of critical essays
by an acute critic of the day, where they have for fellows
Cooper's Hill, Lycidas, Windsor Forest, Grongar Hill, Rui?is
of Rome, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, The
Deserted Village, and The Seasotis. Xor were they placed
amid this distinguished company to be disgraced by con-
trast, the critic finally pronouncing that " the Eclogues, with
all the faults that have been pointed out, have such poetical
merit that . . . they have nothing to fear from a comparison
with any of their predecessors." ^
It is not necessary to trace the history of the growth of
Collins's fame to the very limit of the century. The record
may appropriately close with a short extract from the preface
to his works in The Poets of Great Britain, edited by Robert
Anderson, in 1794: "His odes . . . rank among the first
lyric performances in the English language. . . . They
^ In fact he did not fully represent the literary knowledge of the
educated class, at least, even in far-away New England. Nine years
before Cowper confessed his ignorance, Mrs. John Adams, writing to
her husband three days after the battle of Bunker Hill, says : " Those
favorite lines of Collins continually sound in my ears : —
' How sleep the brave,' etc."
2 The European Afa^azine, August, 1785. The letter is signed " X."
2 Critical Essays, by John Scott, London, 1785, p. 184.
IXTRODUCTIOX. xxxix
entitle Collins to an indisputable preeminence above all his
competitors in that province of poetry, except Dryden and
Gray." ^
III. COLLINS AND ROMANTICISM.
Collins's fame was slow in coming, partly because he
outran the literary taste of his age. He was a pioneer in
Romanticism, and the public and the critics were not yet
ready for Romanticism. Collins was a romanticist by nature,
in temperament and type of mind ranging rather with Shelley
and Keats than with Addison, Pope, or Johnson. But he
was not wholly a romanticist ; elements of a true Classicism
were deep within him. And he fell upon times in which a
pseudo-classical ideal predominated. The history of his
poetic development is the resultant of the three forces indi-
cated, of which the last rapidly declined, and the second
remained about stationary, while the first steadily increased.
If Collins had not written a line, we should still have
known that he sympathized deeply with the new movement
which was beginning to transform literature in England.
One evidence of this is the attitude of his friend Joseph
Warton, who in the preface to his own odes atlirmed the
conviction that " the fashion of moralizing in verse has been
carried too far."' and that "invention and imagination" are
'" the chief faculties of a poet.'' - When it is remembered
1 A Covif-Ictc Edition of the Poets of G>eat Britain, Edinburgh, 1794,
vol. IX, p. 51 5.
- " The pubHc has been so much accustomed of late to didactic poetry
alone, and essays on moral subjects, that any work where the imagina-
tion is much indulged will perhaps not be relished or regarded. The
author therefore of these pieces is in some pain lest certain austere
critics should think them too fanciful and descriptive. But as he is
convinced that the fashion of moralizing in verse has been carried too
far, and as he looks upon invention and imagination to be the chief fac-
ulties of a poet, so he will be happy if the following odes may be looked
xl WTRODUCTIOM.
how intimate the two men were, and that their first intention
had been to publish their odes jointly, we may fairly assume
that the preface expressed the views of Collins as well.
From Thomas Warton we learn that Collins was fond
of black-letter reading and had collected many rare old
books illustrating the earlier periods of English literature.^
upon as an attempt to bring back poetry into its right channel." — Odes
on Several Subjects, by Joseph Warton, London, 1746.
i"My lamented friend Mr. William Collins, whose odes will be
remembered while any taste for true poetry remains, shewed me this
piece [Skelton's Algrat)ia)isir'\ at Chichester, not many months before
his death ; and pointed it out as a very rare and valuable curiosity.
He intended to write the history of the Restoration of Learning under
Leo the Tenth, and with a view to that design had collected many
scarce books." — The History of English Poetry, by T. Warton, section
XXXIII, foot-note.
" In the dispersed library of the late Mr. William Collins, I saw a
thin folio of two sheets in black letter, containing a poem in the octave
stanza, entitled, FahyVs Ghoste, printed by John Rastell in the year
1533." — Ibid., section XLI.
" Among the books of my friend the late Mr. William Collins of
Chichester, now dispersed, was a collection of short comic stories in
prose, printed in the black letter under the year 1570." — Ibid., sec-
tion LI I.
" I was informed by the late Mr. Collins of Chichester, that Shake-
speare's Tevipest,iox which no origin is yet assigned, was formed on this
favorite romance S^Anrelio and Isabella\. But although this information
has not proved true on examination, an useful conclusion maybe drawn
from it, that Shakespeare's story is somewhere to be found in an Italian
novel, at least that the story preceded Shakespeare. Mr. Collins had
searched this subject with no less fidelity than judgment and industry:
but his memory failing in his last calamitous indisposition, he probably
gave me the name of one novel for another." — Ibid., section LX.
Of like purport, as .showing Collins's knowledge of the Elizabethan
drama, is the following : " That our poet admired Ben Jonson, we learn
from Tom Davies [bookseller and would-be actor], who, speaking of
the epilogue to Every Alan Out of His Humour, at the presentation
before Queen Klizabeth, observes, ' .Mr. Collins, the author of several
justly esteemed poems, first pointed out to me the particular beauties of
INTR ODUC TION. xl i
His enthusiasm for the Renaissance, and his long-cherished
plan of writing a history of the Revival of Learning, also
indicate his sympathy with the earlier Romanticism. And,
finally, Johnson's half-mournful description of his friend's
romantic tendencies shows that this man, born when Pope
was in the heyday of his power, -and dying when Johnson
ruled literary London with a bludgeon of common sense,
was yet brother to Spenser, to the youthful Milton, to
Chatterton and Blake, to the many ill-regulated enthusiasts
and poetic dreamers of the early nineteenth century.^
When we turn to the poems themselves, we see in them
an interesting struggle between Collins's natural romantic
tendencies, his natural classic tendencies, and the literary
conventions of the day.
The early minor poems all show, in varying degrees, the
lyric instinct which had become so rare amid the prevailing
didacticism in English verse. In the songs about Fidele and
Damon the romantic elements of love, nature, and the super-
natural are handled with simplicity and truth ; while the intro-
duction of folklore in the former is a prophecy of the Ode to
Fear and the Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the High-
/ands. The obvious elements of conventionalism in these
slight poems do not call for special remark.
In the Oriental Eclogues the struggle between conventional
this occasional address.'" {Dratnatic Miscellanies, vol.11, p. 77.)
— Dyce's Collins, p. 12.
1 '' He had employed his mind chiefly on the works of fiction, and
subjects of fancy; and, by indulging some peculiar habits of thought,
was eminently delighted with those flights of imagination which pass
the bounds of nature, and to which the mind is reconciled only by a
passive acquiescence in popular traditions. He loved fairies, genii,
giants, and monsters ; he delighted to rove through the meanders of
enchantment, to gaze on the magnificence of golden palaces, to repose
by the waterfalls of Elysian gardens." — Lives of the Poets, London,
1820, vol. XI, p. 268.
xlii INTRODUCTION.
form and new subject-matter is patent. The artificial pas-
toral was not yet quite dead in England ; it had been kept
alive by the mighty names of Vergil, Spenser, and Milton,
and recently by the example of Pope. It was, therefore,
natural enough that the youthful Collins should write pas-
torals. What is noteworthy is that he sought for new metal
to pour into the time-worn moulds, and anticipated Southey,
Byron, and Moore in turning to the Orient for poetic mate-
rial. The result, it must be admitted, is tame ; but the mild-
ness of the romantic flavor is easily explained. Salmon's
History of Persia, from which Collins got his inspiration,
although sensible and mildly interesting, is not imaginative
or picturesque ; and Collins showed that he was greatly
athirst by sucking from it as much romance as he did. But
even if the poet had had a richer treasury, he would not
have dared to display its stores more freely. The apologetic
tone of the preface is significant. Collins was evidently
afraid that the " rich and figurative style " and the " ele-
gancy and wildness of thought " might offend the taste of
his readers. Romanticism was yet a timid thing in Eng-
land.^ Modern readers find the Oriental Eclogues less wild
than wooden ; for there is much that is conventional, not
only in the style and verse, but even in the subject-matter
and spirit. A didactic motive is apparent throughout,
as in the handling of similar material by Addison and
Johnson. The truism that virtue is essential to lasting
love and happiness, and the hackneyed themes of pastoral
love and rural delights, constitute the warp and woof of
the first and third eclogues, and enter largely into the
texture of the other two. Oriental love, which was to
receive such sensuous treatment later at the hands of Byron
and Moore, is kept within the bounds of a decent tameness.
^ See W. L. Phelps's Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement^
passim.
1XTR0DUC7U0N. xliii
Even the fact of polygamy is politely ignored. Only one
Zara weeps for the distant Hassan ; and Abbas, the Persian
monarch, might have been an English gentleman except for
a little initial despotism in his manner of appropriating the
rustic Abra. The fine opportunities for pictorial effect in
the second eclogue are imperfectly developed, although the
local coloring here is the best in the series ; the novel situa-
tion in the desert is made subordinate to shallow moralizing,
current at the time, about the evils of " trade." Similarly,
in the fourth eclogue, the scenic possibilities of midnight in
devastated Circassia are largely sacrificed to commonplaces
of pastoral description. In brief, the Oriental Eclogues
are significant in the history of English Romanticism rather
for their tendencies than for their achievement.
In the Epistle Addressed to Sir Thomas Hanmer the occa-
sion overrode the poet. The result was the least individual
of Collins's poems. The epistolary form, the conventional
metre and style, the gross flattery, the half-blind estimate of
Shakspere, — in all these Collins was hardly more than
an amanuensis for the spirit of the age. Yet even in this
poem may be detected some signs of the individuality of the
man who was soon to write the Odes Descripti^'e and Allegorical.
The references to Greek literature and the Renaissance are
significant. The allusions to Shakspere's idyllic plays and to
the fairyland of A Alidsummer-N'ight^ s Dream and The 7hn-
pest remind one of the Song fro?n Shakespear'' s Cymbeli?ie
and of the delicate Arcadian fancy in several of the odes.
And the instinct for the sculpturesque and picturesque, soon
to be revealed in the Odes, is suggested here also by the wish
that painters would go to Shakspere for subjects and by the
vivid sketches of two great scenes from the plays.
In the Odes of 1747 we pass into a new atmosphere. Here
the influence of convention sinks to a subordinate place,
and classic and romantic tendencies become dominant. The
xliv INTRODUCTION.
literary fashions of the day linger here and there in diction
and phrasing, in an occasional frigid personification, and in
the literary or political didacticism which underlies several
of the odes; but over these matters we need not linger.
The classic and the romantic elements require more detailed
examination. We will begin with the latter.
In these odes Collins reveals his poetical creed by his
literary allusions. Spenser and his school, Shakspere,
Milton, Otway — that belated Elizabethan, ■ — these are the
gods of his idolatry among English poets ; while he speaks
slightingly of the then popular Waller, and implies that
pathos is a lost note in the British lyre. His practice con-
forms to his theory. The Odes., in their main effect, are
not intellectual and didactic, but imaginative, pictorial, and
lyrical. They are not chiefly to be thought out, but to be
looked at, felt, and sung. The versification is an index to
the spirit of the whole. The end-stopped pentameter cou{>
let of the Eclogues and the Epistle., a form so admirable for
narration, exposition, or satire, so ill-adapted for lyric flow,
has given place to a variety of measures that fitly embody
the subject-matter.
But it is the subject-matter itself which most clearly shows
the poet's trend toward Romanticism. Collins was, lit-
erally, a visionary. He saw visions. He lived in a world
of imaginary beings, some beautiful, some terrible, some
the creation of folklore and legend, and some the product
of his own imagination. If the Odes be read rapidly,
with this single point in view, it is surprising how
constantly the poet's thought escapes from reality to an
imaginary world. Even The Manners, in praise of the obser-
vation of the real world, is all compact of fancies about
" wizard Passions," " giant Follies," and " magic shores."
The Passions is didactic in intent, praising the simplicity of
Greek music above the complex music of modern times.
INTR OD UC TION. xlv
But the lesson is a picture. And in place of the historical
Alexander in Dryden's similar ode, Collins painted a new
Pandemonium and Elysium in one, where bedlam Passions
mingle with the Loves and Graces. The political and mili-
tary events of the day, passing through this poet's mind, are
transformed into a dream-land peculiarly his own, where
ideal figures stand out in colossal bas-relief, as in the Ode to
Mercy, or, as in the Ode to a Lady and How Sleep the Brave,
shadowy forms at once delicate and majestic mourn over the
graves of the heroic dead.
But the Ode to Fear, the Ode to Liberty, and the Ode on the
Poetical Character are richest in elements of the supernatural
or semi-supernatural. In the beginning of the last-named,
Collins's imagination manifestly revels in the marvellous
legend of the magic girdle ; he is wandering amid the mazes
of 77ie Faerie Quee?ie. The description of creation, an echo
from the idealism of Plato and Spenser, beats with an inward
heat, an intense pleasure in the fantastic richness of the pic-
ture. And the ideal landscape with which the ode ends had
its inspiration in a reverence, amounting almost to worship,
for Milton as the poet of the supernatural sublime. The
antistrophe of the Ode to LJberty shows how well Collins
knew the poetic value of old legends and traditions ; the
fabled disruption of Britain from the mainland is thoroughly
romantic in its rugged wildness and a certain element of the
monstrous ; while the second epode is rich with imaginative
beauty deriving from old Celtic sources. The Ode to Fear
marks the climax of the supernatural element in these Odes
of 1747. A true imaginative shudder runs through the
whole. It is conceived and expressed throughout with a
vigor which shows that the poet had himself lifted " the veil
between " and was looking out with pleasurable awe into the
dim, vast realm of imaginative Terror and the dark Sublime.
From the classic drama he selects those aspects which art
xlvi INTRODUCTION.
most closely allied to the murkiness of the " Gothic " mind ; and
the conception, in the strophe, of fiends who " over Nature's
wrecks and wounds preside " is essentially Teutonic, the
counterpart of the Greek belief in fair spirits, the guardian
divinities of mountains, trees, and running brooks.
The treatment of nature in the Odes is not remarkable
except in the Ode to Evening. A French critic has recently
observed that in this poem Collins anticipated the work of
the modern " impressionist " school ; and he points out that
"' the phenomena of evening, which dissolve progressively
all natural form and destroy the solidity of every object,"
are peculiarly adapted for treatment in accordance with the
doctrine of the impressionists that " things are more poetic
by their aspects than by their forms, and by their colors than
by their substance." ^
But curious as this anticipation is, it concerns us more
just now to ask what relation the poem bore to Collins's own
environment and to the rest of his work. It must have had
a close relation, although it seems so unique. It cannot have
been a literary freak, a poem-child of the nineteenth century
born out of due time.
What view of the matter did Collins himself probably
take ? It is not likely that he supposed he was doing any-
thing unusual. And in a way he was not. It is singular
1 "L^Ode an Soir est en effet de la poesie impressioniste au premier
chef ; d'instinct, Collins a decouvert et applique inconsciemment la
theorie que Ton salt, et il lui a suffi pour cela du desir d'imiter son objet
aussi etroitement que possible, car s'il est vrai que les choses sont plus
poetiques par leurs aspects que par leurs formes et par leurs couleurs
que par leur substance, on comprendra aisement comment le phenomene
du soir, qui dissout progressivement toute forme naturelle et detruit la
solidite de toute objet, s'accommode mieux que tout autre d'etre traite
selon cette doctrine, qui, si elle est douteuse dans d'autres cas, est
absolument vraie dans celui-la." — If cures dc Lectw'c dhm Critique, by
-tmile Montcgut, Paris, 1891, pp. 213, 214.
INTR OD UC TION. xl vii
that this poem, in the last stanza, is marred by worse con-
ventionalism than can be found elsewhere in the Odes.
Furthermore, the mood of the poem is common enough.
Eventide, when all things are idealized by dimness and calm,
is Nature's popular poetry, felt by the most callous, and
disposing every one to pensiveness and repose. Nor does
the ode show minute or subtle observation, such as distin-
guishes much of the nature poetry of the present century.
The objects and aspects described are obvious and common.
The exquisite fineness in the poem is fineness of feeling
and expression, not of perception. We should not expect
Collins, the dreamer and visionary, to have a particularly
keen eye for the facts of the external world. And in this
poem, as elsewhere, he was more dreaming than seeing ; or,
more accurately, he was seeing, but only because in this
case seeing and dreaming were nearly one, nature at twilight
creating a fairy world much like his own land of dreams.
In other words, Collins did know and greatly love the com-
mon phenomena of evening, for the reason that they were
peculiarly congenial to his mood and closely akin to that
imaginary world in which his fancy loved to dwell.
As confirming this view, note how Collins mingles in the
poem the facts of nature with his own and others' fancies.
The sun and the hours are persons, as in old mythology.
Elves, and nymphs who shed the dew, and Pensive Pleasures
sweet, prepare Evening's shadowy car. Even the conven-
tional personifications with which the poem ends show only
the same tendency carried farther ; fancy banishes fact alto-
gether, and nothing is left but the group of wooden abstrac-
tions, stiffly sitting in the "sylvan shed." This sorry ending
is simply a striking proof of the fact that Collins, in this
poem, had no thought of making an objective study of
nature, still less of founding a new school of nature poetry.
He was not trying, in Wordsworth's phrase, to keep his eye
xlviii INTRODUCTION.
" Steadily on the object." Rather he was attracted instinc-
tively to the dreamy aspects of twilight, partly for their own
sake, and partly because they made so poetic a habitation
for the creatures of his imagination ; and so he wrote a
poem in which the two series of facts, the real and the
imaginary, freely intermingled, although they never became
identified. In all this there was nothing new in kind. He
was simply at his old trick of dreaming again, only in this
instance it was evening, instead of the wars on the continent
or the literature of terror, that supplied the inspiration and
part of the material.
If this be true, we should expect to find it true at the core
of the poem, in the conception of evening itself. And it is
true there. Throughout the ode. Evening and evening are
distinct, and Collins's attention is divided between the two.
Whole stanzas are given up to natural description, without
the slightest immediate reference to Evening the person.
At other times Evening is directly addressed, but rather
frigidly and in terms which only in the most general way-
suggest a connection with the objective facts; as "chaste
Eve," " nymph reserved," " maid composed," "calm votaress,"
and " meekest Eve." In a few places the relation is more
intimate, and the personification more imaginative, notably in
and in
Prepare thy shadowy car,
marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil.
But the person and the phenomena are never completely
fused, as might have happened had Collins been wholly
absorbed in picturing the scenes of the real world at evening
time. Keats, in his ode to Autumn, was thus absorbed in
catching up into words the subtle spirit of the " season of
mists and mellow fruitfulness," and he has identified Autumn
INTRODUCTION. xlix
the person with autumn the season. Autumn in his poem
is no sturdy matron with sickle and sheaf. She is the
haunting spirit of the " granary floor," the " half-reaped
furrow," and the oozing cider-press. She has no fixed body,
but many flitting incarnations, in which " whoever seeks
abroad " may catch glimpses of her very essence. In the
Ode to Evoiing there is no such inner unity. Collins was at
once describing the appearances of nature at his favorite^
Kour of twilight and writing an ode to the personified spirit
of the hour. The spirit was as real to him as the hour, and
probably he would not have cared to identify the two. The
thought of a semi-supernatural being, beautiful, ethereal, the
goddess-queen of twilight, dim-flitting in delicate majesty
through her shadowy realm, was of just the sort to captivate
the imagination of Collins. He must have loved with deli-
cate intensity the natural phenomena of evening; but they
doubtless took on additional charm when he thought of them
as the drapery and chariot and dim fairyland of the mystic
Spirit of Twilight. And so it probably never occurred to
him that this poem on evening was materially different in
motive or method from his other odes. Just as in the Ode to
Fear he pictured an imaginary world of terror as the dwelling-
place for his " mad nymph," so in the Ode to Evening he
merely took, ready made to his hand by nature, the world of
twilight as the realm of his " maid composed."
The poem has, therefore, a perfectly definite and normal
relation to the qualities of Collins's mind and to his usual
poetic method. Wherein, then, does its uniqueness consist .''
Precisely in this happy combination of delicate fancy with
delicate fact, and in the singular felicity with which the
elusive, dissolving appearances of twilight are described in
words as magical as themselves. In short, the right subject
had found the right poet.
In its relation to Romanticism the Ode to Evenhis; is as
1 INTRODUCTION.
remarkable in one way as the Ode to Fear is in another.
The descriptive parts of the poem are entirely romanticjn
their intense though delicate passion for some of the love-
liest aspects of nature, and in the fidelity, born of love, with
which those aspects are delineated. It is interesting to
compare the ode with the description of evening in the
third eclogue :
While ev'ning dews enrich the glitt'ring glade,
And the tall forests cast a longer shade. ^
The lines are as conventional as they well could be ; they
show memory of other poets' phrases, not observation of the
real world. Contrast with them these lines from the ode :
But when chill blust'ring winds, or driving rain,
Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut
That from the mountain's side
Views wilds, and swelling floods.
And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires.
And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil.
At the time when the Persian Eclogues were written, Collins
must already have learned to know and love the sights and
sounds of evening ; but he had not yet felt that it was worth
while, in poetry, to try to paint the appearances of nature
as faithfully as possible, and that in fact anything else in
descriptions of nature was hardly worth doing at all. When,
in the Ode to Evening, he reached that point, not by theory
but by instinct and by happy accident in choice of subject,
1 The next two lines, with their pleasant touches of local color, were
added in the second edition, which appeared fifteen years after the first;
they afford, therefore, additional proof of the change in Collins's
manner of describing nature :
What time 't is sweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or scent the breathing maize at setting day.
INTRODUCTION. li
he had taken a step which English poetry in general was to
take some yeitrs later.
The Classicism in the poetry of Collins is, at first glance,
even more apparent than the Romanticism. It is present in
all the poems, from earliest to latest, but may be most con-
veniently studied in the Odes of 1747, where it reached its
highest development.
Collins's love for genuine classic art receives direct expres-'"'fy?^A'
sion in the Ode to Sif?iplicity, which draws its inspiration from
Greek literature and not from the frigid Classicism of the
age of Queen Anne. The same backward look appears in
the many other allusions to Greek literature, art, and history.
Collin s's admiration for Mikon, which is shown by frequent
Miltonic echoes in style even more than by direct praise,
resulted naturally from the combination of the classic and
the romantic in his own ideal ; for Milton came nearer to
realizing such an ideal than any other English poet. It was
natural that a poet of Collins's tastes and literary environ-
ment, groping about for a richer poetic method, yet appre-
ciating all that was good in the classical ideals of the day and
drawn powerfully towards the truer Classicism of ancient art,
should turn to the author of Lycidas and Paradise Lost as his
exemplar and guide. The last of the great Elizabethans
satisfied at once his love of classic finish and his hunger for
richness, imagination, and lofty passion.
In practice Collins's classic instincts appear partly in a
certain restraint in the handling of jomantic subject-matter,
which he never allows to run away with him into extravagance
or disproportion. This restraint was the easier, however,
because his romantic material was comparatively meagre and
tame. But his Classicism appears chiefly in constant quali- »-^
ties of verse, style, and general manner. The Odes are
characterized by a repose, an economy of expression, and a
purity of outline which suggest Greek sculpture, the pictures
lii INTRODUCTION.
.of Ra phael^ or the tapestries of Mantegna. Even where the
style is involved, as in some of the longer '^Hes, the total
effect is simple — the threads may be curiously interwoven,
but the resulting figure is clear and restful ; while many of
the shorter odes have the snow-pure limbs of a statue fresh
from the sculptor's chisel. The versification of the Odes is
finished and careful. Collins exercised considerable freedom
in the choice of stanza-forms ; but, having chosen them, he
adhered to them. Within ^he individual line he admitted
but few variationSj^nd those usually consisted merely of a
shifting oFaccent in the first foot. A freedom in the placing
oi caesuras, never degenerating into license or caprice, con-
tributes its part to the total effect of Collins's verse at its
best, an effect which may be briefly described as a combina-
tion of polish with variety, richness, and ease.
The Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson, published two
years and a half later than the Odes of 1747, bears evidence
that Collins had not gone backward in his poetic develop-
ment. In their sincerity and naturalness the verses are
separated by a great gulf from the conventional elegy of the
day. In feeling and manner they are purely lyric ; some-
thing of the motion of the " lorn stream " itself flows in
gentle sadness through the lines. The world of legend and
fancy in which Collins loved to wander gleams out here and
there — in the name of " druid " given to Thomson, in the
allusion to the harp of yEolus, in the foot-note referring to
Thomson's most romantic poem ; while the lines
And see, the fairy valleys fade ;
Dun night has veil'd the solemn view,
recall the Ode to Evening in their combination of fancy with
one of the most romantic phases of nature. -"»—
But it is not till we turn to the Ode on the Popidar Super-
stitions of the Highlands of Scotland that we realize how far
INTRODUCTION. liii
Collins had advanced in the theory and practice of Romanti-
cism during the three years that followed the publication of
the earlier Odes.
Scattered through the poem are several expressions show-
ing the belief now held by Collins about the new class of
subjects for poetry. Something of the old apologetic tone
lingers still. He thinks it necessary to exhort Home,
" though learned," not to forget the " homelier thoughts "
of the " untutored swain." He props up the cause of Roman-
ticism by citing the examples of Tasso, Fairfax, Spenser, and
Shakspere. And in one instance he adopts language still
more apologetic :
Nor need'st thou blush, that such false themes engage
Thy gentle mind, of fairer stores possest.
But it would appear that in these passages Collins was merely
seeking to conciliate his opponents in poetic theory ; for in
other lines he shows enthusiastic faith in the poetic value of
the new subject-matter, and makes a just distinction between
the imaginative and the false :
Let thy sweet Muse the rural faith sustain :
These are the themes of simple, sure effect,
That add new conquests to her boundless reign.
And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding strain.
■ In scenes like these, which, daring to depart
From sober truth, are still to nature true.
It is evident that Collins had even come to realize that it
was just this kind of food which his own genius had needed
for its full development ; and there is a touch of pathos in
his gentle envy of Home for having the good fortune to be
born in " Fancy's land," far -from the barren conventionalism
of literary England :
liv INTRODUCTION.
Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, whose ev'ry vale
Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand :
To thee thy copious subjects ne'er shall fail ;
Thou need'st but take the pencil to thy hand,
And paint what all believe who own thy genial land.
Still more remarkable is the absence of the didactic point
of view. In the Eclogues, and even in the Odes ol 1747,
didacticism still clung to the skirts of the poet's magic
mantle. In this ode the superstitions of the Highlands
are not recommended because they could be used to point a
moral, but wholly for their intrinsic poetical qualities. They
" call forth fresh delight to Fancy's view." These themes
of " simple, sure efifect " are valued because they can the
" answering bosom pierce." Fairfax's poetry is praised, not
because it taught truth and morality, but because " at each
sound imagination glows" and the verse "fills the impas-
sioned heart and wins the harmonious ear." Here is advance
indeed since the days of the Persian Eclogues, when Hassan's
camels were hitched to the dog-cart of a prudential morality.
Most significant of all is the imaginative abandon with
which Collins throws himself into these superstitions of the
North. This is particularly noticeable in the stanzas about
the water-fiend and his hapless victim. Even the theory of
Romanticism is for a time forgotten ; and the ghost of the
drowned man, with '" blue-swollen face," and " shivering
cold," stands before the mind's eye with all the vividness
and realism of popular superstition.
This part of the ode, and the sketch of the simple inhab-
itants of St. Kilda, also anticipated in some degree that
sympathetic and truthful portrayal of the lives of the poor
which was to characterize so much of the poetry of Burns,
Crabbe, and Wordsworth. The picture of island life is of
course roseate compared with the stern realism of The Parish
Register or the poetic homeliness of Michael ; but in com-
INTRODUCTION. Iv
parison with the conventional descriptions of rural life in
the Persia7i Eclogues it shows a considerable advance in
naturalness and truth.
Collins's own style and method reveal the same progress in
Romanticism. The stanza is a rather shapeless and clumsy
enlargement of the Spenserian ; and the style at times is
decidedly Spenser-like in diffuse picturesqueness or in deli-
cate luxury of color :
For, watchful, lurking 'mid th' unrustling reed,
At those mirk hours the wily monster lies,
And listens oft to hear the passing steed,
And frequent round him rolls his sullen eyes,
If chance his savage wrath may some weak wretch surprise.
Yet frequent now, at midnight's solemn hour.
The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold,
And forth the monarchs stalk with sov'reign pow'r,
In pageant robes, and wreath'd with sheeny gold,
And on their twilight tombs aerial council hold.
In not a few lines Collins has followed his own advice to
Home to suit his style to his romantic subject-matter and
" proceed in forceful sounds and colours bold." An instance
occurs in the third stanza :
At ev'ry pause, Ijefore thy mind possest.
Old Runic bards shall seem to rise around,
With uncouth lyres, in many-colour'd vest,
Their matted hair with boughs fantastic crown'd.
The style of the poem as a whole strikes one as having
more of romantic warmth and dash, and less of classical
finish, than any other of Collins's odes ; but, as regards ,
comparative lack of finish, it should be remembered that wt
have only an imperfect first draught.
The limitations and the distinctive quality of the Roman-
ticism in the poetry of Collins have already been implied ;
but they may now be briefly stated. Many of the romantic
Ivi INTRODUCTION.
aspects of nature, the picturesque in humble life, the pictur-
esque in the feudal past, and the whole world of concrete
human passion and struggle either are entirely absent from
CoUins's verse or receive only incidents and rudimentary
treatment. His Romanticism was that of an idealist with
strong classical tendencies, and anything wiiich does not
blend readily with the classical and the ideal could not
enter his pages. It is a tempting problem what would have
been his poetical development had he lived, with faculties
unimpaired, for a generation longer. On the one hand, his
letter in 1750, in its reference to his new ode on the music
of the Grecian theatre, shows how highly he still valued
" correct " composition modelled upon the Greek classics.
On the other hand, so rapid had been his progress in
Romanticism during the brief interval between the Odes of
1747 and the Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the High-
lands that it is probable that he would have moved with ever
increasing speed toward the bolder and wider Romanticism
reached even in his own century by Chatterton and Blake.
The influence of Collins upon the development of the
Romantic Movement in England was indefinite and slight.
This was chiefly due to the loss, for more than a generation,
of his most romantic poem. Had the Ode on the Popular
Superstitions of the Highlands heen given to the world in 1749
instead of in 1788, it could not have failed to exert a power-
ful influence upon the growth of English Romanticism ; for,
as Professor Phelps has remarked, " it struck a new note in
English verse," and was " the first important poem " in that
branch of Romanticism which dealt with '" native supersti-
tions or Teutonic mythology." ^ As it was, we can do little
more than guess at the quiet effect which the published
poems of Collins may have wrought upon the poets of his own
and the succeeding generation. We may think that we detect
^ Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement, p. 137.
INTR on UC TION. Ivi i
the atmosphere of the Ode to Evening va. the Elegy Written in
a Country Churchyard ; the influence of the more elaborate
odes upon Gray's Pindarics ; an echo of the Oriental
Eclogues in Chatterton's African Idylls ; possibly a trace of
The Passions in Seattle's Ode to Hope^ and of the Ode on the
Poetical Character in the same poet's conception, in The
Mitistrel, of the poetic temperament. But these and like
surmises are at best a scant and shadowy harvest. And
when the Ode 07i the Popular Superstitions of the High-
lands finally came to light, it could no longer do the work of
a pioneer, but was, instead, a prophecy fulfilled ; while to a
later generation still, the name of Collins was a pitiful and
indignant memory, not an inspiration to new deeds in poesie.
Wordsworth, at the threshold of his poetic career, prayed
that never child of song
May know that poet's sorrows more.^
And Scott, looking back with the tenderness of a robust
nature for a delicate and unfortunate one, recognized the
kinship between himself and " Collins, ill-starred name,"
who loved
to tread enchanted strand,
And thread . . . the maze of Fairyland ;
Of golden battlements to view the gleam,
And slumber soft by some Elysian stream.^
But both Wordsworth and Scott found their inspiration
elsewhere than in the pages of Collins.
IV. THE POETRY OF COLLINS: AN APPRECIATION.
The poems other than the odes may be dismissed briefly.
Of the early minor poems only the Song from Shakespear's
Cymbeline has much interest for the reader of to-day ; that
^ Remembrance of Collins.
2 The Bridal of Triermain, Introduction.
Iviii INTRODUCTION.
will long be loved for its tenderness and graceful fancy.
But the Verses Written on a Paper show a Miltonic richness
of expression surprising in such a trifle ; and all the poems
have a certain distinction, — a grace, finish, and freedom
from the commonplace, — that was prophetic. They were
prophetic in another way. Of these five little poems two
are upon tears, one is a love plaint, and two are dirges.
Evidently '" the pert and nimble spirit of mirth " was not to
preside over the poetry of Collins.
It is sufficiently high praise of the Oriental Eclogues to
say that they can still be read. This not inconsiderable
merit they owe to the narrative element, to the oriental set-
ting, to the frequent prettiness of style and verse, and to the
occasional fine strokes in description. The first eclogue is
the least interesting. Its didacticism is but slightly relieved
by the fiction of Selim and the maids of Bagdat; too evi-
dently he exists only to preach and they exist only to listen.
The second eclogue is the most graphic ; but it is difficult
to sympathize with the whining Hassan — did he expect
to find the desert carpeted and the tigers caged t The third
eclogue is the prettiest of the series ; the motif, though
slight, is sufficient and beautiful. As a pastoral the poem
has an advantage which most romantic pastorals lack : the
idealization of rural life is natural here, for we are looking
through the eyes of characters who view that simple life
from " midst the blaze of courts " and " thorns of state."
Li Lho last eclogue are the rudiments of a striking study in
chiaroscuro ; but as a whole the picture is too general, and
the modern reader is unable to believe in the woes of two
such expert rhetoricians as the afflicted shepherds prove
themselves to be.
The Epistle Addressed to Sir T/iomas Hanmer can hardly
be called dead, for it was stillborn. As poetry, save for a
line or two, it is naught ; its learning is amateurish ; its
INTRODUCTION. Hx
literary criticism is conventional, and in one instance glar-
ingly false. Collins had attempted the battle of Pope
without Pope's weapons.
The odes are unequal in merit and interest ; but they have
certain elements in common, which may be spoken of first.
There is a tendency nowadays, especially in comparisons
of Collins with Gray, to overrate the purely lyric quality in
the poetry of the former. Compared with contemporary
poets,'he had a~ conspicuous lyrical gift. But to ears accus-
tomed to the wizard strains of Coleridge, the Ariel-like
harpings and skylark flights of Shelley, and the passionate
harmonies of Swinburne the music of Collins's lines seems
comparatively commonplace and cold. Hi^ verse never
soars, and it does sometimes stumble or creep. Its best
qualities are finish, ease, and a certain quiet purity and rich-
ness. Collins plays a flute of clear and mellow tone.
Collins's style excels in picturesque and sculpturesque
effects. In the mind's eye he saw ideal scenes and forms
with wonderful clearness, and with few strokes he could
describe what he saw. One may or may not be interested
in the picture or bas-relief, but one cannot fail to see it.
The classic purity, conciseness, and repose of the style of
the odes are doubly grateful nowadays, in contrast with the
carelessness of the century's early romanticists and the pain-
ful " preciousness " of fin-de-siecle aesthetes. Collins's style
is at once natural and artful ; and occasionally it combines
ease with compact richness in passages that remind one of
the early style of Milton. In other places, especially in the
Ode on the Popular Superstitious of the IIighla7ids, his growing
Romanticism shows itself in a restrained warmth of color
somewhat after Spenser's best manner. But it must be con-
fessed that not infrequently the style of the odes is common-
place and flat.
The imagination of Collins was limited in range. His
Ix INTRODUCTION.
vision was confined almost wholly to ideal abstractions, to
the supernatural, to a few phases of nature allied to the ideal
or the supernatural, and to periods in the world's history and
literature embodying his ideals of art and freedom. And in
effect his range was even narrower than would appear from
this enumeration ; for the most prominent objects before his
mind's eye were the ideal abstractions, round which gathered
his thoughts upon art, freedom, nature, and the supernatural.
This lack of grasp upon concrete reality, upon human and
dramatic interest, is the chief reason why the poetry of
Collins never has been popular and never can be. "The
defect of his poetry in general," says Craik, " is that there
is too little of earth in it : in the purity and depth of its
beauty it resembles the bright blue sky."^ But his personi-
fied abstractions are usually saved from emptiness and
frigidity by his habit of associating with them concrete
facts illustrative of the quality in hand. Thus we know
Liberty by Greece, Switzerland, and Britain; Fear, by
storms, tragedy, and ghosts.
Collins's thought had about the same limitations as his
imagination, for he seems to have thought chiefly in images.
His purely intellectual power was not remarkable. He had
apparently meditated more upon questions of literary theory
than upon any other topic ; and even here he shows, in
general, fine feeling rather than originality or depth of
thought. It should, however, be remembered that at the
time when he wrote most of his odes Collins was still a very
young man. His enthusiasm for liberty seems to have pro-
ceeded rather from instinct than from reflection ; it was a
part of his freedom-loving temperament, which showed itself
also in his life and in his departure from literary conventions.
In brief, one sees many pictures in the pages of Collins, but
does not receive much truth.
^ History of English Literature, London, 1864, vol. II, p. 284.
INTRODUCTION. Ixi
The passion in the odes is neither powerful nor of wide
range, but it is always fine and sometimes exquisite. Collins
was not a robust nature. He was mistaken if he really
supposed himself capable of writing tragedy; that calls for
sterner stuff than the delicate, sensitive horror of the terrible
which palpitates through the Ode to Fear. But in pathos,
and the tender emotions generally, the odes are rich.
" Collins had skill to complain," wrote his first editor, who
should be thankful to have said one good thing amid many
foolish. This note of tenderness, of delicate pity blended
with fancy, which vibrates again and again in CoUins's
verse and reveals a nature of remarkable purity and sensi-
tiveness, is what chiefly endears him to the reader. Here
at least he is human, although his tenderness is usually too
ideal in form, too aloof from the beaten paths of life, to
reach the popular heart like the tenderness of Burns or
Longfellow.
The gentleness and repose of the poet's nature appear
conspicuously in his steady love for the country life. Begin-
ning with the Eclogues., the song about Damon, and the dirge
for Fidele, he ended with the quiet woodland and river
scenery of the stanzas on Thomson and with the sketch of
Kilda's simple folk in the Highlands ode ; while in the
intermediate Odes of 1747, as M. Montegut has happily
remarked, we see " une miniature d'Arcadie, d'ou surgissent
en abondance des images de paix, de repos, et de silence." ^
CoUins's dislike of war and his love of peace breathe the
same spirit. He even associates his beloved pastoral atmos-
phere with martial subjects, and, to quote again from the
critic just named, is probably "le seul poete qui ait chante
I'heroisme et la vertu militaire sur le chalumeau, la tenuis
avena de Tityre."^
1 Ileures de Lecture d^mi Critique, Paris, 1891, p. 208.
2 Ibid.
Ixii INTRODUCTION.
Three of the odes, The Passions, the Ode to Evening,
and How Sleep the Brave, have attained to something of
popularity and call for brief special comment.
The Passions, the most popular, is the least poetical of the
three. In addition to the didacticism and the lack of unity
commented upon elsewhere,^ the poem is injured by a certain
hollowness and declamatory tone. The imagination merely
glances over the surface of the subject. In places it is diffi-
cult to escape the impression that we are witnessing a "per-
formance," in which the Passions go through their appointed
parts. Hope smiles and waves her golden hair, Melancholy
plays upon the horn with pensive prettiness. Revenge beats
the drum and strains his eyeballs. We look on unmoved.
There is more of imaginative abandon in the lively lines
about Cheerfulness and Joy. But in the tone of the poem
as a whole may be found an explanation of the melancholy
fact that as early as 1782 the ode had already become the
victim of "frequent public recitals." "^ The merits of The Pas-
sions are considerable. The perfect clearness of the style,
the easy if rather metallic and too obvious music of the
verse, the purity and finish of the pictures, have doubtless
combined with the declamatory manner to render the ode
popular. Yet the fact remains that in delicacy of feeling
and penetrative imagination it is inferior to several of the
less popular poems.
The Ode to Evening is the most modern of Collins's poems,
resemblTng, as^trasTtlready been pointed out, the work of the
impressionist school. But it was a favorite with lovers of
poetry long before that school arose, and it will continue to
be a favorite long after modern literary fashions shall have
passed away. Although less popular than The Deserted Vil-
lage and Gray's Elegy, the Ode to Evening is yet like them
in emb odying i ajgxqu^site form sights, sounds,^ andLleelings
1 See A/feudix, A. 2 ggg p_ xxxvi.
INTRODUCTION. Ixiii
of such permanent beauty that age cannot wither them
nor c ustom staIe7~~Tn~air the^ finer qualities of poetry, —
in unobtrusive melody, in nameless felicity of phrase, in
fxncv and imagination, in^suggestive description^n feeling
fq^jh^_delicajjelj^eauti£u^ it is far superior,
not only to the more strepitant ode on the Passions, but
to nearly all of Collins's verse. Ij;s sustained poetic tone
is the more re markable b e cause of the introd uction of
h omely d etails about the bat and beetle, which a re taken
up into th e^ i magin ative atmosphere_of_the poem and help
to give it realism and dis_tinction without loss of beauty
or dlgaity- — )The ode will be read and loved so long _as
the sights ami sounds of evenrng~ltseTf are loved by readers
of English poetry,?
In one respect, however, the Ode to Ei'oimg is sadly
imperfect. The last three stanzas fall so far below the rest
that the reader must either make for himself an ending,
which is not a conclusion, at the fortieth line, or rise from
the poem with an unpleasant sense of beauty marred by
wooden conventionalisms There remains for mention, how-
ever, one poem not only exquisite in parts but perfect as a
whole, a diamond of small size but of the finest quality and
cutting. Pathos and fancy were perhaps never so success-
fully blended as in the lines How Sleep the Brave., which are
themseWes like a "knell" rung by "fairy hands." The
mingled delicacy and majesty of the mourning figures, the
ideality and truth in the three-word characterization of
Spring, the sustained tone of repose, the combination of
grace with economy and richness of expression, all these
unite to form a whole of gentle but enduring charm. The
little poem is perfect of its kind, and the kind is exquisite.
A violet is not superior in daintiness, delicate precision of
outline, and cool fragrance.
The poetry of Collins does not strive nor lift up its voice
Ixiv INTRODUCTION.
in the streets. But if it startles not, neither does it weary.
Its Milton-like harmony of classic restraint with romantic
richness secures it alike from extravagance and from frigid-
ity. Its purity of beauty is a lasting delight. Already it
has survived a century and a half, partly by reason of its
significance in the history of English poetry, but chiefly
because of intrinsic merit ; and there needs no special illu-
mination to predict for the best of it a secure though quiet
immortality.
APPENDIX.
o>»4c
THE STRUCTURE OF THE ODES.
In Collins's day both the simple Horatian ode and the elaborate
Pindaric had long been domesticated in English literature. Jon-
son (i 573-1637) wrote odes in both forms. The structure of his
ode to tlie memory of Sir Lucius Gary and Sir Henry Morison is
modelled exactly upon the odes of Pindar, although he translated
"strophe," " antistrophe," and " epode " into "turn," "counter-
turn," and " stand."
Horatian odes were plentiful enough throughout the seventeenth
century, but the Pindaric ode seems to have been wholly neglected
until the time of Cowley (1618-1667). Cowley had a zeal for
Pindarics, but not according to knowledge. Although he read
Pindar in the original, he mistook the complexity of the metre for
irregularity and lawlessness, saying in the preface to his Pindaric
Odes, "though the grammarians and critics have laboured to re-
duce his [Pindar's] verses into regular feet and measures, . . . yet
in effect they are little better than prose to our ears." Cowley-
Pindarics were soon the rage. They became and long remained
the favorite metre of poet-laureates in their official performances ;
and in truth no form could be better adapted for making a pom-
pous something out of nothing. The climax of combined tumidity
and dullness was reached, perhaps, in the Ode to the Creator of
the World, by John Hughes (1677-1720), who also paraphrased
some of Horace's neat odes into great heaps of swelling emptiness.
To Congreve (i 670-1 729), as Johnson said, "we are indebted
. . . for the cure of our Pindaric madness." Congreve had him-
self been among the sinners, but in i 706 he came to a knowledge
Ixvi APPENDIX.
of the truth and brought forth fruits meet for repentance. In that
year he pubHshed an ode entirely correct in form, and prefixed a
Discourse on the Pindaric Ode, in which he said : " The following
ode is an attempt towards restoring the regularity of the ancient
lyric poetry, which seems to be altogether forgotten, or unknown,
by our English writers. . . . The character of these late Pindarics
is a bundle of rambling incoherent thoughts, expressed in a like
parcel of irregular stanzas. ... On the contrary, there is nothing
more regular than the odes of Pindar."^ From Congreve to
Collins correct Pindaric odes were common, although the irregular
Pindaric also continued to be written and published.
In a general way, therefore, it may be said that Collins was
doing nothing new in writing odes. For both the simple and the
elaborate form he had numerous models in English verse, besides
the Latin and Greek originals. Even the unrhymed Ode to Even-
ing repeated the stanza of Milton's translation of the Fifth Ode
of Horace, in addition to being an imitation of a favorite metre
of the Latin poet. The only thing worthy of note, so far as
yet appears, is that amid the varying practice of the age CoUins's
classic taste led him to compose all his odes, with two exceptions,
either in simple measures or in the exacting Pindaric form. One
of the two exceptions is the Ode on the Popular Superstitions of
the Highlands ; for a reference to the effect of Collins's growing
Romanticism upon the stanza of this poem, see the Introduction,
p. Iv. The other exception is The Passions, the metre of
which, although irregular, is far from lawless, as will be shown
1 The following passage from the same preface affords an amusing
illustration of the mental temper which was still possible in literary
criticism to a distinguished man of letters : " What the origin was of
these different motions and stations in singing their odes is not our
present business to inquire. Some have thought that by the contrariety
of the strophe and antistrophe they intended to represent the contra-
rotation of the primum mobile in respect of the secunda mobilia ; and
that by their standing still at the epode they meant to signify the
stability of the earth. Others ascribe the institution to Theseus, who
thereby expressed the windings and turnings of the labyrinth, in cele-
brating his return from thence." — Chalmers's English Poets, London,
iSio, vol. X, pp. 300, 301.
APPENDIX. Ixvii
later ; and even upon a superficial view the ode is far removed
from the shapeless monsters that had been and were still mas-
querading as Pindarics.
As to subjects for odes, and manner of treatment, the greatest
latitude prevailed in CoUins's day. Almost anything might be
taken as the subject for an ode of the simple sort. Collins's friend
Joseph Warton wrote an Ode to a Geiitletnan on his Travels and
an Ode on Shooting. The odist usually contrived to address some-
body or something, but in a meditative ode even this distinction
might disappear. The elaborate ode was more restricted in sub-
ject and manner. Elevation was considered essential, and the
effort to secure it often resulted in extravagance and bombast.
Collins in both classes of his odes again showed his classical
instinct by avoiding meanness or triviality, on the one hand, and
absurdity on the other. He is not always uniform. The Manners
has least elevation of subject and style ; Tlie Passions comes
nearest to empty declamation ; the Ode on the Poetical Character
approaches the borders of the unintelligible and merely fantastic.
But on the whole it is within the truth to say that Collins's simple
odes are never undignified, and his elaborate odes never turgid or
absurd.
The simple odes, with one exception, do not here call for special
study, as they exhibit nothing remarkable in structure or verse.
The exception is the Ode to Evettifi-g, one of the few successful
unrhymed lyrics in the English language. Its musical charm is
too subtle to yield up its innermost secret to cold analysis, but on
attentive study some of the causes for its metrical success come to
light.
The fundamental cause is the high poetic quality of the thought
and feeling, which does not so much divert attention from the
mere rhythm and sound as reduce the demands upon them, just as
in the contrary case, in poems where the mind and eye are not
gratified, the ear is the more importunate. This may be tested in
the last stanza, whose comparative poverty in metrical effect is due
chiefly to poverty of thought.
Again, blank verse is peculiarly adapted to this poem, for the
reason that the absence of rhyme-emphasis at the ends of the
Ixviii APPENDIX.
lines favors the fusing of line into line, an effect which subtly
harmonizes with the attempt to describe the dissolving appear-
ances of twilight. This effect is most definite in stanza lo, but it
is present throughout the poem as a part of the atmosphere.
The shortening of the last two lines in each stanza, by producing
a "dying fall," contributes to a somewhat similar effect, as do also
the occasional run-on lines and the several instances where stanza
melts into stanza with only a comma between. As HazHtt has
said, "the sounds steal slowly over the ear, like the gradual
coming on of evening itself."
Aside from imitative effects, the ode is richer than at first
appears in elements of melody, rhythm, and stanzaic structure
which go some way toward satisfying the sense for form without
the aid of rhyme. It should first be noted, however, that in two
stanzas rhyme itself is present. In stanza 5 the first line rhymes
with the third ; in stanza 6 a rhyme occurs in the middle of lines >
3 and 4. But stray rhymes in a blank-verse poem must be con-
sidered as defects, because they are casual departures from the
type, and raise expectations which are not elsewhere satisfied.
Legitimate elements of melody, however, are numerous throughout
the ode in the form of open vowels and pleasant consonants, many
of them, moreover, coming at the ends of lines, where they are
most needed as a partial substitute for rhyme. The most liquid
'of English sounds, /, occurs 79 times in the 52 lines ; in stanza 8
there is an average of nearly three /'s to the line, and an average
of two /'s to the line in stanzas 5 and 12. Great variety in the
placing of caesuras combines with the run-on lines and run-on
stanzas to produce unusual fluidity of motion. Certain elements
of stanza-structure appear in many places, and help to preserve
the poem from the formlessness which is the great danger in
unrhymed measures. The shortening of the lines in the second
half of each stanza is a constant and powerful factor in producing
a sense of stanza-form. The recurrence of " now " in stanzas 2,
3, and 4, "when" and "then" in stanzas 6 and 8, and the rather
rhetorical use of "while" and "so long " in stanzas 11, 12, and
13, although they are logical and not metrical in their primary
effect, yet indirectly reinforce the metrical structure. Alliteration
APPENDIX.
Ixh
does still more in strengthening rhythmic and stanzaic effects.
Through several stanzas runs a sustained alliteration ; and al-
though some of these alliterative effects are individually slight,
the^esulting total is considerable. Stanza i is thus threaded into
a certain unity by s ; stanza 2, by w and b ; stanza 3, by w , <^,
and s ; stanza 10, by d. The more marked alliterations are not
very numerous ; but it is noticeable that they often occur at or
near the end of the stanza, where they are of most service in pre-
vefitiTig a sense of metrical flatness (see stanzas 2, 3, 4, 7, 10,
1 1, 12).
Of the elaborate odes the Ode to Mercy is the shortest and the
simplest in structure, resembling several of Pindar's odes in
having no epode. The metrical scheme and the relation of the
thought to it may be seen in the following outline : ^
Ode to Mercy.
I. Strophe:
characteristics.
Mercy's general
f 4 « '1 Mercy
4 a [> Valour's
5 /;J bride.
\ c\ She
4 c J> disarms
Is '^J him;
4 d^ is an
( 4 d ! angel
'4 e I in
5 ^J battle.
< 5/"^ Britain
Sf f^ worships
6 ^J her.
2. Antistrophe : Mercy's special
service to Britain.
^ ! Britain's
^4«|danger;
4 <:! averted
4 c r-hy
5 /^J Mercy;
4^1
4 d !>ditto.
4 e]
^ e'\ Mercy
4/ ! shall be
4/" I Britain's
6 f j queen.
The Ode to Fear is, next to the Passions, the least regular of
the odes. The epode should have been called a mesode, as it
^ Figures indicate the number of feet in the line ; letters, the rhymes ;
stars, feminine endings ; braces on the left of the columns of figures,
metrical groups as determined by rhymes or line-lengths ; braces on the
right of the columns of letters, divisions in the thought.
Ixx
APPENDIX.
comes between strophe and antistrophe instead of after the latter.
In the extant odes of Pindar there are no mesodes, but they some-
times occur in the choral odes of the Greek dramas.
Ode to J'ear.
I. Strophe: Imaginative, de-
scriptive characterization of Fear.
M'^l Fear
/ 4 « I ■
4 b ^'"^fg^-
\ 4 b\ '^^''^^•
( 3 c\ Fear
\ '}^ c [comes,
j 5 i/. [terrified,
/ 5 d] terrifying.
3. Antistrophe: Fear in nature,
human Hfe, folk-lore, and modern
poetry.
a \ Fear
a \ weary.
Fearful
things
>in life
and
nature.
4
4
Ab^
Ab
5 '
4 e
4 e
4/
4/
\ ^S
\Ah
XAh
\^\
I 4 i
M/
I 47
j4f
j4 /
U /.
Fear's train ;
Danger,
phantoms,
fiends,
vengeance.
Fate's
hounds ;
all
terrible.
3 <:
Sd
[ ]|
{ I i ^^^'
^ ^ m
4 / J
^■■V I modern
y ^poetry
^ * I and in
4 -f folk-
4 " 1
^ , lore.
4 «
4
4
4/]
47
Invoca-
4 ,^ tion to
4 ^ ! Shakspere,
4 / ] Fear's
4 / greatest
4w prophet.
4wJ
2. Epode : Fear in Greek tragedy.
Five pentameter quatrains: Greek tragedy early and effective;
yFschylus ; Sophocles ; Fear the chief inspiration of Greek tragedy.
The Ode on the Poetical Character was printed in tlie original
edition without divisional headings, although the epode and the
antistrophe were indicated by the figures 2 and 3. Yet the ode is
the most rcjrular of the series.
APPENDIX.
Ixxi
Ode on the Poetical Character.
I. Strophe: The magic girdle
of poetry is for few.
4«1
4 '^
\ b\ <- 1
^ , \ Spenser s
'^ ^ magic
^ i girdle
4 M ^
4d}
5/
S^
5/
5-^
*4h
5 '
5the un-
worthy.
Poetry
is
^such
lirdle.
3. Afitistrophe : High poetry,
like Milton's, is hard to attain
unto.
4«1
4 '^ I The
4 f cliff
^Hof
4 ^ I high
4^J
5
5_/" I where
5^ ;> Milton
5/ I lay,
5d
*4/0
*4 h ! Collins
5 e [seeks
j4 n
I 4 /• I .
* . in
^^4 7 X •
*4 7 I
6g}
2. Epode: The weaving of the magic girdle of poetry.
Sixteen tetrameter couplets : Poetry and creation coeval ; poetry is
pure, wonderful, true, human and heavenly ; who is sufficient for it .?
The Ode to Liberty is the longest of the Odes of 1747, and
with the exception of The Passions is the most varied in metre.
It will be noticed that in strophe and antistrophe the second six
lines repeat the rhyme-order of the first six, the line-lengths being
also the same except in the case of the last lines. The conclud-
ing nine lines in strophe and antistrophe are identical with the
Spenserian stanza in rhyme-order and in the length of the last
line, although not in the other line-lengths. In the antistrophe,
rhyme y is the same as rhyme _^, probably by accident.
Ixxii
APPENDIX.
Ode to Liberty.
I. Strophe: Liberty in
ancient world.
I 4« '
The
^ }► Spartan
^ , I heroes.
5 " I
f 4 ^^l The
L"^ Athe-
■^ ■' ^>nian
I ju^ -^ tyraii-
i J- nicides.
L 6 /J
{Ag^ Depre-
J 4 /i ! catory
j 4 ,^ [prelude
[ 4 // J to
'4
4 7
the 3. Antistrophe : Britain torn
from the mainland to be the last
home of Liberty.
4 '^ \ Prelude.
4« \
'4-51 Britain
^ [part
\ '^ ' ^of the
f 4 ^/
I ^ mam-
land.
5 *
47
4 7>
5^
57
4/-
(ik
the
overthrow
of Rome
by the
barba-
rians.
4
*5
5/1 A
*5 e J>storm
6y"J arose,
{ i, ,s:\ which
4 // '.made
4 g fit an
i, h ] island,
r4 q ,vith
4 / I attend-
5 ' Knt
4 / isles,
< 47J
5 /'^ to be
5/ I Liberty's
4 ,(' I last
^d k ] home.
2. Epode : Liberty in the modern world.
Xineteen tetrameter couplets ; couplet 1 1 has feminine endings :
Liberty has found a home in Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Britain.
4. Second Epodc. — First Part : I5ritish liberty nearest the ideal ;
Second Part : Conclusion to the whole ode.
First Part. — Twenty tetrameter couplets ; couplet 1 1 has feminine
endings : The druids' temple of Liberty is gone, but the ideal model is
still in heaven, combining ancient with modern elements, its walls
graved with Britain's fame.
Second Part. — Light tetrameter couplets : Britain, torn by wars,
now craves peace with liberty.
APPENDIX. Ixxiii
From the above outlines it appears :
1. Tliat the metrical structure of the odes is in a general way
regular, consisting of distinct parts having a definite relation to
each other.
2. That the metrical correspondence between similar parts is
sometimes curiously exact, and sometimes only approximate.
3. That the epode is always in uniform metre, while the
strophe and the antistrophe are in more or less varied metre.
4. That with one exception the epode always comes between
strophe and antistrophe ; and that the exception arises merely
from the presence of two epodes, one of which is in the usual
intermediate position, while the other naturally follows the antis-
trophe.
5. That large and distinct divisions in the thought always cor-
respond to the large divisions in the metrical structure.
6. That the smaller thought-divisions sometimes do and some-
times do not correspond with the smaller metrical divisions.
The significance of these facts will be pointed out later.
The structure of The Passions shows the influence of the Cow-
ley-Pindaric ode, but it shows also how Collins's native sense for
proportion and form restrained him from going to extremes even
while he was experimenting, for once, with irregular measures.
The introduction and the conclusion, comprising 40 lines out of
118, are written in plain tetrameter couplets, and alone would
suffice to give some degree of sanity and moderation to the
metrical effect of the poem as a whole. The fifth and sixth lines
of both introduction and conclusion have feminine endings, but
this correspondence may have been accidental. Following the
introduction come three quietly moving tetrameter quatrains.
The broken measures then begin. But the first three lines are
tetrameter still, although the feet in the second and third lines
change to trochaic. Longer lines then creep in, and the descrip-
tion of Hope ends with two hexameters. The rhyme-scheme of
the lines on Hope is irregular also ; but it receives a loose kind of
unity, certainly a sense of completeness, from the fact that the
last line rhymes with the first. It is also connected, perhaps by
accident, with the preceding quatrain, its first line rhyming with
Ixxiv APPENDIX.
the quatrain's first and third lines. The passage on Revenge is
linked with that on Hope by its second rhyme. The rhyme-
scheme follows no perceptible law, although it gains a little unity
by the return of its fourth rhyme in the last line. Cunningly
hidden in the middle of the passage is an unrhymed line (1. 45).
The variety in line-lengths here is greater than elsewhere in the
poem, the lines ranging from trimeters to hexameters. The
appropriateness of the broken metre, especially the impatient
short lines, in a description so full of " furious heat " is obvious.
The smooth-flowing quatrain on Jealousy, which follows, is an
agreeable relief. With the description of Melancholy the longer
and more complex verse-periods begin again. Of the 12 lines
given to Melancholy 4 are couplets and the rest are quatrains;
there are 3 pentameters and 9 tetrameters. The descriptions of
Cheerfulness and Joy, with their companions, are written in metre
appropriately varied and lively, but not intricate or fantastic.
Line 85 is unrhymed.
The subject-matter of the ode consists of two sections very
unequal in length and very different in nature. Everything before
the conclusion is descriptive, and has to do with the Passions and
their relation to Music. The conclusion is didactic, and has to do
with Music alone. The poem is, therefore, inferior to the other
odes in unity. Either the conclusion seems a divergent after-
thought ; or, if it be taken as the original motive of the poem, one's
first impression about the de.scriptive parts must be re-adjusted
— they seemed to exist for their own sake, but it turns out that
they are arguments to prove the superiority of ancient music.
The descriptive portion by itself has only a slight and super-
ficial unity. With a few trifling exceptions there is no interac-
tion between the Passions, who are merely brought together and
rather mechanically wait their turns to play- The order in which
they are mentioned seems to have been determined by contrast
and likeness and by the desire to end with a climax of gaiety.
Wliat is the conclusion of the whole matter.''
It is a commonplace that the Pindaric ode in English is an
artificial exotic, of sliglit native force, and unable to reproduce
the effects of its Greek original. The reason is obvious. The
APPENDIX. IxxV
Greek odes were accompanied by music and dancing, the singers
moving to one side during the strophe, retracing their steps during
the antistrophe (which was for that reason metrically identical
with the strophe), and standing still during the epode. The ear
was thus helped by the eye, and the divisions of the ode were
distinct and significant. But in an English Pindaric the elabo-
rate correspondences and differences between strophe, antistrophe,
and epode are lost upon most readers, and even the critical reader
derives from them a pleasure intellectual rather than sensuous.
But while this is true of thoroughly academic Pindarics like
those of Gray, in which the peculiar metrical effects are minute,
it is not altogether true of the rougher Pindarics of Collins.
Collins was less scholarly than Gray, but he was bolder and more
original ; and consciously or unconsciously he so constructed his
odes that their organic parts stand out clearly distinct and pro-
duce effects analogous to those produced by the Greek ode. In
brief, his method was, first, to make large divisions of the thought
correspond to the large divisions of the form ; and, second, to throw
out into relief the complex strophe and antistrophe by contrasting
them with a simple epode. The reader may not perceive the
minute correspondences in form between strophe and antistrophe,
but he can hardly fail to feel that the two answer to one another
in a general way by being varied and complex ; while the epode at
once emphasizes this effect by contrast and produces an impres-
sion of its own analogous to that of the Greek epode, namely,
an impression of rehef and repose. For this reason, apparently,
Collins placed his epode between the other two parts instead of
after them, a practice for which he seems to have had no English
precedent. In the same way we may account for his carelessness
about the minuter correspondences in metre and in the adjustment
of the smaller thought-groups to metrical groups. Sometimes he
seems to have amused himself by a curious regularity in minutiae,
but the larger impressions were all that he considered essential.
In The /'^i-i-Z^^j similar effects of contrast and repose are secured
by beginning and ending with simple metre and by placing quiet
quatrains here and there among the passages of wilder flight.
Ixxvi APPENDIX.
B.
REFERENCES TO COLLINS'S POETRY IN THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
" Have you seen the works of two young authors, a Mr. Warton
and Mr. Collins, both writers of odes? It is odd enough, but
each is the half of a considerable man, and one the counterpart of
the other. The first hasTjut little invention, very poetical choice
of expression, and a good ear. The second, a fine fancy, modelled
upon the antique, a bad ear, great variety of words and images,
with no choice at all. They both deserve to last some years, but
will not." — Gray's letter to Wharton, Dec. 27, 1746.
" We remember to have seen an edition of these beautiful
eclogues about fourteen years ago ; and if our memory does not
fail us, they were then intituled Persian Eclogues. . . . The
thoughts are appropriated [stc^, the images wild and local, the
language correct, and the versification harmonious. . . . With
what strength of colouring is the beginning of this piece [the
second eclogue] wrought up ! . . . We are much mistaken, if, in
this little performance, we do not discover the elegance and the
picturesque genius of tlie too much neglected author of Odes on
several Subjects, descriptive and allegorical.'''' — The Mortthly
Review, June, 1757.
" Of Mr. Collins's Oriental Eclogues we gave some account in
the sixteenth volume of our Review, page 486, and there we
observed that his Odes descriptive and allegorical had been too
much neglected. It shall not, however, be our fault if they are
neglected any longer. If a luxuriance of imagination, a wild sub-
limity of fancy, and a felicity of expression so extraordinary that
it might be supposed to be suggested by some superior power,
rather than to be the effect of human judgement or capacity, — if
these are allowed to constitute the excellence of lyric poetry, the
author of tlie Odes descriptive and allegorical will indisputably
bear away tlie palm from all his competitors in that province of
the Muse. . . . The Ode on the Poetical Character \?, so extremely
wild and exorbitant that it seems to have been written wholly
APPENDIX. Ixxvii
during the tyranny of imagination. Some, however, there are
whose congenial spirits may keep pace with the poet in his most
eccentric flights. . . . There is something perfectly classical in
Mr. Collins's manner, both with respect to his imagery and his
composition ; and Horace's rule of ut Pictiira Poesis was never
better observed than in the above-quoted verses \Ode to Mercy^
11. 1-6]. ... It is with peculiar pleasure that we do this, justice
to a poet who was too great to be popular, and whose genius
was neglected because it was above the common taste." — The
Monthly Peview, January, 1764.
" The genius of Collins was capable of every degree of excel-
lence in lyric poetry, and perfectly qualified for that high province
of the Muse. Possessed of a native ear for ail the varieties of
harmony and modulatio.x, susceptible of the finest feelings of ten-
derness and humanity, but above all, carried away by that high
enthusiasm which gives to imagination its strongest colouring, he
was, at once, capable of soothing the ear with the melody of his
numbers, of influencing the passions by the force of his pathos,
and of gratifying the fancy by the luxury of his description." —
Langhorne, in his edition of Collins, London, 1765, p. 137.
" The grandeur of wildness, and the novelty of extravagance,
were always desired by him, but not always attained. Yet, as
diligence is never wholly lost, if his efforts sometimes caused
harshness and obscurity, they likewise produced in happier
moments sublimity and splendour. This idea which he had formed
of excellence led him to oriental fictions and allegorical imagery,
and perhaps, while he was intent upon description, he did not suf-
ficiently cultivate sentiment. His poems are the productions of a
mind not deficient in fire, nor unfurnished with knowledge either
of books or life, but somewhat obstructed in its progress by devia-
tion in quest of mistaken beauties. ... His diction was often
harsh, unskilfully labored, and injudiciously selected. He affected
the obsolete when it was not worthy of revival ; and he puts his
words out of the common order, seeming to think, with some later
candidates for fame, that not to write prose is certainly to write
poetry. His lines commonly are of slow motion, clogged and
impeded with clusters of consonants. As men are often esteemed
Ixxviii APPENDIX.
who cannot be loved, so the poetry of ColUns may sometimes
extort praise when it gives little pleasure." — Johnson in his Lives
of the Poets., London, 1820, pp. 268, 271. (The volume contain-
ing the life of Collins was published first in 1779.)
" A subscription is about to be set on foot, for the purpose of
erecting a monument to that much-neglected but admirable bard,
Collins, in the cathedral church of this his native city. His incom-
parable Ode on the Passions will furnish a design, which is to
be executed in the best manner by that ingenious artist Flaxman.
If any of your numerous correspondents can give information,
through the medium of your useful Miscellany, whether any por-
trait or engraving of this venerable poet is extant, and how a sight
of it may be obtained, the information will be thankfully received."
— " W. G.," in The Gentleman's Magazine, December, 1789.
YE ! WHO THE MERITS OF THE DEAD REVERE,
WHO HOLD MISFORTVNE SACRED, GENIVS DEAR,
REGARD THIS TOMB ! WHERE COLLINS, HAPLESS NAME !
SOLICITS KINDNESS, WITH A DOVBI-E CLAIM :
THO' NATVRE GAVE HIM, AND THO' SCIENCE TAVGHT,
THE FIRE OF FANCY, AND THE REACH OF THOVGHT,
SEVERELY DOOM'd TO PENVRY'S EXTREME,
HE PASS'd in MADD'nING PAIN LIFE'S FEVERISH DREAM ;
WHILE RAYS OF GENIVS ONLY SERV'd TO SHEW
THE THICK'nING HORROR, AND EXALT HIS WOE.
YE WALLS THAT ECHOED TO HIS FRANTIC MOAN,
GVARD THE DVE RECORD OF THIS GRATEFVL STONE !
STRANGERS TO HIM, ENAMOVR'D OF HIS LAYS,
THIS FOND MEMORIAL OF HIS TALENTS RAISE ;
FOR THIS THE ASHES OF A BARD REQVIRE,
WHO TOVCH'D the TENDEREST notes of pity's LYRE :
WHO ioin'd pvre faith to strong poetic powers,
WHO IN REVIVING REASON'S LVCID HOVRS,
SOVGHT on one BOOK HIS TROVBLED MIND TO REST,
AND RIGHTLY DEEM'd THE BOOK OF GOD THE BEST.
— Collins' s F.fitaf'h in Chichester Cathedral^
1 Most printed transcripts of the ephaph contain several small errors.
The above text is copied from the original in Chichester Cathedral. The
bas-relief and epitaph together cover a large marble slab, which is
affixed to a pier in the north aisle of the nave.
APPENDIX. Ixxix
C.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Down to the end of the eighteenth century the Hst of editions of
Collins has been made as complete as possible. Of editions belong-
ing to the present century only the more valuable are named. With
the exceptions indicated, all the works mentioned are in the British
Museum. The other statements as to the location of editions are not
meant to be taken as exhaustive.
Persian Eclogues. Written originally for the Entertainment of
the Ladies of Taurus. And now first translated, &c. Lon-
don : Printed for J. Roberts, in Warwick-Lane, 1 742. (Price
Sixpence.) 8vo.
Not in the British Museum. One of the two copies in the Dyce
Collection, in the South Kensington Museum, contains, on the fly-
leaf facing the title-page, this entry in Dyce's hand : " This copy was
given by Collins to Joseph Warton (see note by the latter on the
back of the title page). The motto from Virgil on the title-page,
the corrections, etc., are in the handwriting of Collins." The note
on the back of the title-page is as follows : " Mr. Collins gave me
this Copy with his own Hands when I & my Brother visited Him
for the last time at Chichester." On the title-page, after " trans-
• lated, &c.," is written in Collins's hand, " — Quos primus equis
Oriens afilavit, anhelis." Below in the same hand, and cancelled
with ink, are the words, " Equis Oriens afflavit anhelis." The quota-
tion from Cicero (see p. 84) follows, but is crossed out with ink.
The imprint is also crossed out. At the bottom of the title-page, in
the same hand as that of the note on the back of the page, is this
entry : " By Mr. Collins, (written at Winchester School) " For the
written corrections of the text, see pp. 85, 90. This copy does
not contain the Preface ; the other copy does.
Verses Humbly Address'd to Sir Thomas Hanmer. On his Edi-
tion of Shakespear's Works. By a Gentleman of Oxford.
London : Printed for M. Cooper, in Paternoster Row, 1743.
(Price Six Pence.) Folio.
An Epistle : addresst to Sir Thomas Hanmer, On his Edition of
Shakespear's Works. The second edition. To which is
Ixxx APPENDIX.
added, A Song from the Cymbeline of the same Author. By
Mr. William Collins, of Magdalene-College in Oxford. Lon-
don : Printed for R. Dodsley, . . . and Mr. Cooper, . . .
MDCCXLIV. (Price One Shilling.) Folio.
In the Dyce Collection in the South Kensington Museum. Not
in the British Museum.
The Museum : or, the Literary and Historical Register. Volume
the First. London : Printed for R. Dodsley, in Pall-Mall.
MDCCXLVL
No. VI, June 7, contains the Ode to a Lady. In the Library of
Harvard University.
Odes on several Descriptive and Allegoric Subjects. By William
Collins. [The motto from Pindar follovk'S ; see p. 33.]
London: Printed for A. Millar, in the Strand. MDCCXLVII.
(Price One Shilling.) 8vo.
In the Library of Harvard University.
A Collection of Poems. By Several Hands. In Three Volumes.
London : Printed for R. Dodsley, at Tully's Head in Pall-
Mall. MDCCXLVII I.
The second edition contains the Ode to a Lady, the Ode to
Evening, and How Sleep the Brave. The Collection was reprinted
in 1763, 1765, 1767, 1783. .Sometimes unauthorized changes were
made in the text of the odes by Collins ; and some of the changes
have been retained in later editions of the poet.
Ode Occasion'd by the Death of Mr. Thomson. By Mr. William
Collins. Haec iibi seviper eruiit, i&^ cum solennia Vota
reddemus Aymphis, &^ a/m liistrabijnus Agros. — Amavit
nos qtioqne DapJuiis. \'irg. Bucol. Eclog. v. London :
Printed for R. Manby and H. S. Cox, on Ludgate-Hill.
MDCCXLIX. [Price Six-pence.] [On the next leaf:]
To George Lyttleton, Esq., this Ode is inscrib'd by the
Author. Folio.
In the Dyce Collection in the South Kensington Museum. Not
in the British Museum.
APPENDIX. Ixxxi
The Union : or, Select Scots and English Poems. . . . Edinburgh :
Printed for Archibald Munro & David Murray. MDCCLIII.
Contains the Ode to Evening and the Ode on the Death of Mr.
Thomson.
Oriental Eclogues. [For the rest of the title, etc., see p. 7.]
London : Printed for J. Payne, at Pope's Head, in Pater-
noster-Row. MDCCLVII. (Price One Shilling.) 4to.
In the Library of Harvard University and the Boston Public
Library.
The Poetical Calendar. Containing a Collection of scarce and
valuable Pieces of Poetry : With Variety of Originals and
Translations, by the Most Eminent Hands. . . . Written
and Selected by Francis Fawkes, M.A., and William Woty.
In twelve volumes. London : . . . 1763.
In vol. XI are the Oriental Eclogues, the Odes of 1747, the
Epistle to Hanmer, and the Song from Shakespear''s Cymbeline ; in
vol. XII, the Ode 07i the Death of Mr. IViomson, a sketch of
Collins's life (with the lines 7o Miss Aurelia C A'), and John-
son's description of his character.
The Poetical Works of Mr. William Collins. With Memoirs of
the Author ; and Observations on his Genius and Writings.
By J. Langhorne. . . . London : Printed for T. Becket and
P. A. Dehondt, at Tully's Head, near Surry Street, in the
Strand. MDCCLXV. 8vo.
Contains all the poems now attributed to Collins, except the Ode
on the Popidar Superstitions of the Highlands, Verses Written on a
Paper, To Miss Aiirelia C R, the Sotinet, and the Song about
Damon. The text is eclectic. Some of its blunders or unauthor-
ized changes have been reproduced again and again down to within
recent years, as most subsequent editions were based upon this
edition. Dyce says Langhorne's Collins was reprinted in 1771. In
the Dyce Collection, in the South Kensington Museum, is an
edition published in 1776. Still another reprint appeared in 1781.
The Poetical Works of Mr. William Collins. To which are added
Mr. Hammond's Elegies. Glasgow : Printed by Robert &
Andrew Foulis. MDCCLXXI. i8mo.
Reprinted in 1777.
Ixxxii APPENDIX.
The Poetical Works of Mr. William Collins. To which are
added, Mr. Hammond's Elegies. Edinburgh : Printed for
J. Balfour and W. Creech. MDCCLXXIII. 8vo.
This is vol. XLIII in the British Poets (same imprint).
A Collection of Poems, in four volumes. By Several Hands.
London: Printed for G. Pearch, . . . MDCCLXXV. [Third
edition.] 8vo.
Vol. II contains the Oriental Eclogues, the odes on Thomson,
Pity, Simplicity, Peace, Mercy, Liberty, Fear, and the Poetical Char-
acter, The Manners, The Passions, and Verses Written on a Paper.
The Works of the English Poets. W'ith Prefaces, Biographical
and Critical, by Samuel Johnson. Volume the Forty-Ninth.
London : . . . MDCCLXXIX. 8vo.
Collins's poems, with Langhorne's Observations, come last in
the volume, preceded by Thomson's and Hammond's. Reprinted
in 1790.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. With the Life of the
Author. Edinburgh, 1781. i2mo.
In vol. LXXXVIII of Bell's Poets of Great Britain, complete
from Chaucer to Churchill; printed for John Bell, British Library,
Strand, London, 1781. Reprinted in 1787.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. Glasgow : Printed by
Andrew Foulis, Printer to the University. 1787. Folio.
This edition contains a few plates, a life of Collins stolen from
Langhorne's edition, and variant readings in the Ode to a Lady and
the Ode to Evening.
Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. Vol. I. Edin-
burgh : . . . Sold in London by T. Cadell, in the Strand.
MDCCLXXXVIII.
Part II, Papers of the Literary Class, pp. 63-75, contains the
Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland. In
the Library of Harvard University.
An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scot-
land ; considered as the Subject of Poetry. Inscribed to Mr.
APPENDIX. Ixxxiii
Home, Author of Douglas. By Mr. William Collins, Author
of the Ode on the Passions, &c. Never before printed.
Dedicated to the Wartons. [The sentence, in Johnson's life
of Collins, about the ode, follows.] London : Printed by J.
Bell, Bookseller to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales,
at the British Library, Strand. 1788. 4to.
A second edition appeared in 1789.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. . . . To which is prefixed
the Life of the Author. Edinburgh : 1 794. 8vo.
In vol. IX of a Co7nplete Edition of the Poets of Great Britain,
published in London and Edinburgh, and edited by Robert
Anderson.
Roach's Beauties of the Poets of Great Britain. . . . From the
Works of the Most Admired Authors. In Six Volumes.
London: 1794. i2mo.
Vol. IV contains How Sleep the Brave, the Oriental Eclogues,
and the Ode on the Poetical Character.
Poems by William Collins, being Odes, descriptive and allegorical,
etc. Colchester : . . . 1796. i2mo.
Annotated.
The Poetical Works of Mr. William Collins. With a Prefatory
Essay by Mrs. Barbauld. London : . . . T. Cadell, jr. &
W. Davies, . . . 1797. 8vo.
Reprinted in 1802.
The Poetical Works of William Collins, enriched with Elegant
Engravings. . . . London : . . . E. Harding, . . . 1798. 8vo.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. . . . Embellished with
Engravings from the Designs of Richard Westall, Esq., R. A.
London : Printed . . . for John Sharpe. . . . 1804. i6mo.
A handsome edition. According to Dyce, the same edition, with
a newly engraved title-page, and without the plates, was reprinted
in 181 1.
Ixxxiv APPENDIX.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. Collated with the Best
Editions : by Thomas Park, Esq., F. S. A. London : 1805.
i6mo.
In vol. XXX of the Works of the British Poets, edited by Park.
The most critical edition that had yet appeared, although some of
the errors in Langhorne's' text were retained.
The Poetical Works of William Collins ; with the Life of the
Author by Dr. Johnson ; Observations on his Writings
by Dr. Langhome ; and Biographical and Critical Notes,
by the Rev. Alexander Dyce, A.B. Oxon. London, Wil-
liam Pickering, Chancery Lane ; D. A. Talboys, Oxford.
MDCCCXXVII.
Very valuable, although a collection of material rather than a
finished edition. In the Boston PubUc Library.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. London : William Pick-
ering. 1830. 8vo. [Aldine edition of the British Poets.]
Contains a biographical sketch based chiefly on Dyce's material,
an Essay on the Genius and Poems of Collins, by Sir Egerton
Brydges, Langhorne's Observations, and variant readings. In the
Aldine editions of 1858, 1866, and 1894, Brydges's Essay and
Langhorne's Observations were dropped, and a revised biographical
sketch displaced the earlier one.
The Poems of William Collins, a New Edition, with a Critical
Preface by Sir Egerton Brydges, Bart. Geneva : 1832.
i6mo.
The preface is not the same as the essay in the Aldine edition
of 1830.
The Poetical Works of William Collins. [The poems of Gray,
Parnell, Matthew Green, and T. Warton in the same volume.]
Edited by the Rev. Robert Aris Willmott. Illustrated.
London: Routledge & Co. 1854. 8vo.
An eclectic and critical text, and some excellent notes.
Lectures on the English Poets, by William Hazlitt.
A few pages upon Collins in Lecture VI.
APPENDIX. Ixxxv
The English Poets, edited by T. H. Ward, vol. III.
The critical preface to the selections from Collins is by
Swinburne.
Lowell's Works, vol. IV.
The essay on Pope, pp. 3, 4, contains a few sentences upon
Collins.
The Athenaeum, Jan. 5, 1856, p. 10 et seq.
Emile Montegut. Heures de Lecture d'un Critique. Paris : . . .
1891.
Pp. 162-233 are devoted to Collins.
EARLY MINOR POEMS.
THE POEMS OF COLLINS.
^^^©^o
TO MISS AURELIA C-
ON HER WEEPING AT HER SISTER S WEDDING.
Cease, fair Aurelia, cease to mourn ;
Lament not Hannah's happy state ;
You may be happy in your turn,
And seize the treasure you regret.
With Love united. Hymen stands,
And softly whispers to your charms,
'' Meet but your lover in my bands.
You '11 find your sister in his arms."
SONNET.
When Phoebe form'd a wanton smile,
My soul, it reach'd not here !
Strange that thy peace, thou trembler, flies
Before a rising tear !
From midst the drops my love is born,
That o'er those eyelids rove :
Thus issu'd from a teeming wave
The fabled queen of love.
SONG.
the sentiments borrow'd from shakespear.
Young Damon of the vale is dead ;
Ye lowland hamlets, moan :
2. Ye lowly hamlets, moan: — Many editions.
POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
A dewy turf lies o'er his head,
And at his feet a stone.
His shroud, which death's cold damps destroy, 5
Of snow-white threads was made :
All mourn'd to see so sweet a boy
In earth forever laid.
Pale pansies o'er his corpse were plac'd.
Which, pluck'd before their time, lo
Bestrew'd the boy, like him to waste,
And wither in their prime.
But will he ne'er return, whose tongue
Could tune the rural lay .''
Ah, no ! his bell of peace is rung, 15
His lips are^ cold as clay.,
They bore him out at twilight hour.
The youth who lov'd so well :
Ah me ! how many a true-love shower
Of kind remembrance fell ! 20
Each maid was woe, but Lucy chief ;
Her grief o'er all was tried :
Within his grave she dropp'd in grief.
And o'er her lov'd one died.
VERSES
WRITTEN ON A PAPER WHICH CONTAIN D A PIECE OF
BRIDE-CAKE GIV'n TO THE AUTHOR BY A LADY.
Ye curious hands that, hid from vulgar eyes.
By search profane shall find this hallow'd cake,
18. The youth belov'd so well :
— T/ie [London^ Public Advertiser, March 7, 17S8.
EARLY MINOR POEMS. 5
With virtue's awe forbear the sacred prize,
Nor dare a theft, for love and pity's sake !
This precious relick, form'd by magic pow'r, 5
Beneath the shepherd's haunted pillow laid.
Was meant by Love to charm the silent hour,
The secret present of a matchless maid.
The Cyprian queen, at Hymen's fond request.
Each nice ingredient chose with happiest art ; lo
Fears, sighs, and wishes of th' enamour'd breast.
And pains that please, are mixt in ev'ry part.
With rosy hand the spicy fruit she brought
From Paphian hills and fair Cythera's isle :
And temper'd sweet with these the melting thought, 15
The kiss ambrosial, and the yielding smile ;
Ambiguous looks, that scorn and yet relent ;
Denials mild, and firm unalter'd truth ;
Reluctant pride, and amorous faint consent ;
And meeting ardours, and exulting youth. 20
Sleep, wayward god, hath sworn, while these remain,
With flatt'ring dreams to dry his nightly tear ;
And chearful Hope, so oft'invok'd in vain.
With fairy songs shall sooth his pensive ear.
If, bound by vows to Friendship's gentle side, 25
And fond of soul, thou hop'st an equal grace.
If youth or maid thy joys and griefs divide,
O much intreated, leave this fatal place !
Sweet Peace, who long hath shunn'd my plaintive day,
Consents at length to bring me short delight ; 30
Thy careless steps may scare her doves away.
And Grief with raven note usurp the night.
POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
A SONG FROM SHAKESPEAR'S CYMBELYNE.
sung by guiderus and arviragus over fidele,
suppos'd to be dead.
To fair Fidele's grassy tomb
Soft maids and village hinds shall bring
Each op'ning sweet, of earliest bloom,
And rifle all the breathing spring.
No wailing ghost shall dare appear, 5
To vex with shrieks this quiet grove:
But shepherd lads assemble here,
And melting virgins own their love.
No wither'd witch shall here be seen.
No goblins lead their nightly crew : lo
The female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress thy grave with pearly dew.
The redbreast oft at ev'ning hours
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gather'd flow'rs, 15
To deck the ground where thou art laid.
When howling winds, and beating rain,
In tempests shake the sylvan cell,
Or midst the chace on ev'ry plain.
The tender thought on thee shall dwell. 20
Each lonely scene shall thee restore.
For thee the tear be duly shed :
Belov'd, till life could charm no more;
And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.
ORIENTAL ECLOGUES.
WRITTEN ORIGINALLY FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT OF THE
LADIES OF TAURIS. AND NOW TRANSLATED.
— Ubi primus equis Oriens adjlavit anJielis.
— ViKG. Georg. Lib. I.
THE PREFACE.i
It is with tlie writings of mankind, in some measure, as with
tlieir complexions or tlieir dress ; eacli nation liatli a peculiar-
ity in all these, to distinguish it from the rest of the world.
The gravity of the Spaniard, and the levity of the P'renchman,
are as evident in all their productions as in their persons them-
selves ; and the style of my countrymen is as naturally strong and
nervous, as that of an Arabian or Persian is rich and figurative.
There is an elegancy and wildness of thought which recom-
mends all their compositions ; and our geniuses are as much too
cold for the entertainment of such sentiments, as our climate is
for their fruits and spices. If any of these beauties are to be
found in the following Eclogues, I hope my reader will consider
them as an argument of their being original. I received them
at the hands of a merchant, who had made it his business to
enrich himself with the learning, as well as the silks and carpets
of the Persians. The little information I could gather concern-
ing their author, was, that his name was Abdallah, and that he
was a native of Tauris,
It was in that city that he died of a distemper fatal in those
parts, whilst he was engaged in celebrating the victories of his
favourite monarch, the great Abbas.^ As to the Eclogtces them-
selves, they give a very just view of the miseries and incon-
veniences, as well as the felicities, that attend one of the finest
countries in the East.
The time of writing them was probably in the beginning of
Sha Sultan Hosseyn's reign, the successor of Sefi or Solyman
the second.
1 In the Dyce Collection, in the South Kensington Museum, are
two copies of the 1742 edition of the Eclogues, one with the Preface
and the other without it.
2 In the Persian tongue, Abbas signifieth " the father of the
people." — C
10 PREFACE.
Whatever defects, as, I doubt not, there will be many, fall
under the reader's observation, I hope his candour will incline
him to make the following reflection :
That the works of Orientals contain many peculiarities, and
that, through defect of language, few European translators can
do them justice.
ECLOGUE THE FIRST.
SELIM ; OR, THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.
Scette, a valley near Bagdat. Time, the morning.
"Ye Persian maids, attend your poet's lays,
And hear how shepherds pass their golden days.
Not all are blest, whom Fortune's hand sustains
With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains :
Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell ; 5
'T is virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell."
Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspir'd ;
Nor praise, but such as Truth bestow'd, desir'd :
Wise in himself, his meaning songs convey'd
Informing morals to the shepherd maid ; 10
Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find.
What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.
When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride.
The radiant Morn resum'd her orient pride;
When wanton gales along the valleys play, 15
Breathe on each flow'r, and bear their sweets away ;
By Tigris' wand'ring waves he sate, and sung
This useful lesson for the fair and young.
" Ye Persian dames," he said, " to you belong,
W'ell may they please, the morals of my song : 20
8. No praise the youth, but hers alone desir'd : — 1742.
13. When sweet and od'rous, like an Eastern bride, — 1742.
17. By Tigris' wand'rer waves he sate, and sung — 1742.
19. " Ye Persian dames," he said, "to ye belong, — 1742-
12 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found,
Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around !
The Morn that lights you, to your loves supplies
Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes :
For you those flow'rs her fragrant hands bestow, 25
And yours the love that kings delight to know.
Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are.
The best kind blessings heav'n can grant the fair !
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray.
Boast but the worth Balsora's ^ pearls display ; 3°
Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright,
But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light :
Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast,
By sense unaided, or to virtue lost.
Self-fiatt'ring sex ! your hearts believe in vain 35
That Love shall blind, when once he fires, the swain ;
Or hope a lover by your faults to win.
As spots on ermin beautify the skin :
Who seeks secure to rule, be first her care
Each softer virtue that adorns the fair ; 4°
Each tender passion man delights to find.
The lov'd perfections of a female mind !
" Blest were the days when Wisdom held her reign,
And shepherds sought her on the silent plain ;
With Truth she wedded in the secret grove,' 45
Immortal Truth, and daughters bless'd their love.
21. No fairer maids, I trust, than ye are found, — 1742.
25. For ye those flow'rs her fragrant hands bestow, — 1742.
30-32. Balsora's pearls have more of worth, than they ;
Drawn from the deep, they sparkle to the sight,
And all-unconscious shoot a lustrous light : — ■742-
46. The fair-ey'd Truth, and daughters bless'd their love.
— 1742.
1 The gulph of that name, famous for the pearl fishery. — C.
OR I E XT A L ECLOGUES.
13
O haste, fair maids ! ye Virtues, come away !
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way !
The balmy shrub, for you. shall love our shore,
Bv Ind excell'd or Arabv no more.
" Lost to our fields, for so the Fates ordain.
The dear deserters shall return again.
Come thou, whose thoughts as limpid springs are clear,
To lead the train : sweet Modest}", appear :
Here make thy court amidst our rural scene,
And shepherd girls shall own thee for their queen.
With thee be Chastity, of all afraid.
Distrusting alL a wise suspicious maid ;
But man the most — not more the mountain doe
Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe.
Cold is her breasL like flow'rs that drink the dew :
A silken veil conceals her from the \-iew.
No wild Desires amidst thy train be known.
But Faith, whose heart is fix'd on one alone :
Desponding Meekness with her down-c-st eyes :
And friendly Pit}* full of tender sighs :
-\nd Love the last. By these your heans approve.
These are the virtues that must lead to love."
60
6;
Thus sung the swain : and ancient legends say.
The maids of Bagdat verined the lav :
Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along.
The shepherds lov"d. and Selim bless'd his song.
THE Exr> C'F THE f:k?t eci:':.ve.
ove o'lIt sr.ore.
40. The ba]n-jy shrab. for ve. ^hal
. 5-. O come, thor Modestv. as ihc_
The rose may then improxe her blush bv thee
60. Thtis sung the swain, and eastern legends sav.
— 1-4:
VT-<>^ «9
O/i-x^
14 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
ECLOGUE THE SECOND.
HASSAN ; OR, THE CAMEL DRIVER.
Scene, the desart. Time, mid-day.
In silent horror o'er the boundless waste
The driver Hassan with his camels past.
One cruise of water on his back he bore,
And his light scrip contain'd a scanty store ;
A fan of painted feathers in his hand,
To guard his shaded face from scorching sand.
The sultry sun had gain'd the middle sky,
And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh ;
The beasts, with pain, their dusty way pursue.
Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view !
With desp'rate sorrow wild, th' affrighted man
Thrice sigh'd, thrice strook his breast, and thus began :
"Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way.
" Ah ! little thought I of the blasting wind.
The thirst or pinching hunger that I find !
Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall Thirst asswage,
When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage ?
Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign ;
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine ?
"Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear
In all my griefs a more than equal share !
Here, where no springs in murmurs break away,
Or moss-crown'd fountains mitigate the day,
In vain ye hope the green delights to know, -
Which plains more blest, or verdant vales bestow :
I. In silent horror o'er the desart-waste — 1742-
ORIENTAL ECLOGUES. 15
Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands, are found.
And faint and sickly winds forever howl around.
" Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way ! 3°
"Curst be the gold and silver which persuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade !
The lilly peace outshines the silver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore:
Yet money tempts us o'er the desart brown, 35
To ev'ry distant mart and wealthy town.
Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea ;
And are we only yet repaid by thee ?
Ah ! why was ruin so attractive made,
Or why fond man so easily betrayed ? 40
Why heed we not, whilst mad we haste along,
The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleasure's song ?
Or wherefore think the flow'ry mountain's side,
The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride.
Why think we these less pleasing to behold, 45
Than dreary desarts if they lead to gold ?
" Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way !
" O cease, my fears ! — all frantic as I go.
When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe, 5°
What if the lion in his rage I meet ! —
Oft in the dust I view his printed feet :
And (fearful !) oft, when Day's declining light
Yields her pale empire to the mourner Night,
By hunger rous'd, he scours the groaning plain, 55
Gaunt wolves and sullen tygers in his train :
Before them Death with shrieks directs their way.
Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey.
16 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
" Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way ! 60
" At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep,
If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep :
Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around,
And wake to anguish with a burning wound.
Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, 65
From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure !
They tempt no desarts, and no griefs they find ;
Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind.
" Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way ! 70
" O hapless youth ! for she thy love hath won,
The tender Zara, will be most undone !
Big swell'd my heart, and own'd the pow'rful maid.
When fast she dropp'd her tears, as thus she said :
* Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain, 75
Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain !
Yet, as thou go'st, may ev'ry blast arise
Weak and unfelt as these rejected sighs !
Safe o'er the wild, no perils mayst thou see.
No griefs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me.' 80
O let me safely to the fair return.
Say with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn !
O let me teach my heart to lose its fears,
Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears ! "
He said, and call'd on hcav'n to bless the day, 85
When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.
THE END OF THE SECOND ECLOGUE.
83. Go teach my heart to lose its painful fears, — 1742.
ORIENTAL ECLOGUES. 17
ECLOGUE THE THIRD.
ABRA ; OR, THE GEORGIAN SULTANA.
Scene, a forest. Titne, the evening.
In Georgia's land, where Tefflis' tow'rs are seen,
In distant view along the level green,
While ev'ning dews enrich the glitt'ring glade,
And the tall forests cast a longer shade,
What time 't is sweet o'er fields of rice to stray, 5
Or scent the breathing maize at setting day ; ^
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra sung the pleasing cares of love.
Of Abra first began the tender strain.
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain : lo
At morn she came those willing flocks to lead.
Where lillies rear them in the wat'ry mead ;
From early dawn the live-long hours she told.
Till late at silent eve she penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the secret shade, 15
A various wreath of od'rous flow'rs she made :
Gay-motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils she chose.
The violet blue that on the moss-bank grows ;
All sweet to sense, the flaunting rose was there : ^
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair. 20
Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray,
By Love conducted from the chace away;
Among the vocal vales he heard her song.
And sought the vales and echoing groves among :
^ Lines 5 and 6 were not in the edition of 1742.
^ That these flowers are found in very great abundance in some
of the provinces of Persia, see the Modern Llistory of tlie ingenious
Mr. Salmon. — C.
18 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
At length he found and woo'd the rural maid ; 25
She knew the monarch, and with fear obey'd.
" Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
" And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! "
The royal lover bore her from the plain ;
Yet still her crook and bleating flock remain : 30
Oft, as she went, she backward turn'd her view,
And bad that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid ! to other scenes remove,
To richer scenes of golden power and love !
Go leave the simple pipe, and shepherd's strain ; 35
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.
" Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
" And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! "
Yet midst the blaze of courts she fix'd her love
On the cool fountain, or the shady grove ; 40
Still with the shepherd's innocence her mind
To the sweet vale and flow'ry mead inclin'd ;
And oft as Spring renew'd the plains with flow'rs,
Breath'd his soft gales, and led the fragrant Hours,
With sure return she sought the sylvan scene, 45
The breezy mountains, and the forests green.
Her maids around her mov'd, a duteous band.
Each bore a crook, all rural, in her hand :
Some simple lay of flocks and herds they sung;
With joy the mountain and the forest rung. 50
" Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
" And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd !
And oft the royal lover left the care
And thorns of state, attendant on the fair ;
Oft to the shades and low-roof'd cots retir'd, 55
Or sought the vale where first his heart was fir'd :
ORIENTAL ECLOGUES. 19
A russet mantle, like a swain, he wore,
And thought of crowns and busy courts no more.
"' Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
" And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! " 60
Blest was the life that royal Abbas led :
Sweet was his love, and innocent his bed.
What if in wealth the noble maid excel ;
The simple shepherd girl can love as well.
Let those who rule on Persia's jewell'd throne, 65
Be fam'd for love, and gentlest love, alone ;
Or wreath, like Abbas, full of fair renown.
The lover's myrtle with the warrior's crown.
O happy days ! the maids around her say ;
O haste, profuse of blessings, haste away ! 7°
" Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
" And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! "
THE END OF THE THIRD ECLOGUE.
ECLOGUE THE FOURTH.
AGIB AND SECANDER; OR, THE FUGITIVES.
Scene, a mountain in Circassia. Time, midnight.
In fair Circassia, where, to love inclin'd.
Each swain was blest, for ev'ry maid was kind ;
At that still hour when awful midnight reigns.
And none but wretches haunt the twilight plains ;
What time the moon had hung her lamp on high,
And past in radiance thro' the cloudless sky ;
Sad, o'er the dews, two brother shepherds fled.
Where wild'ring Fear and desp'rate Sorrow led ;
20 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Fast as they prest their flight, behind them lay
Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies stole away. lo
Along the mountain's bending sides they ran,
Till, faint and weak, Secander thus began.
Secander.
O stay thee, Agib, for iny feet deny,
No longer friendly to my life, to fly.
Friend of my heart, O turn thee and survey, 15
Trace our sad flight thro' all its length of way !
And first review that long extended plain,
And yon wide groves, already past with pain !
Yon ragged cliff, whose dang'rous path we try'd !
And last this lofty mountain's weary side ! 20
Agib.
Weak as thou art, yet hapless must thou know
The toils of flight, or some severer woe !
Still, as I haste, the Tartar shouts behind,
And shrieks and sorrows load the sadd'ning wind :
In rage of heart, with ruin in his hand, 25
He blasts our harvests, and deforms our land.
Yon citron grove, whence first in fear we came.
Droops its fair honours to the conqu'ring flame
Far fly the swains, like us, in deep despair,
And leave to ruflian bands their fleecy care. 3°
Secander.
Unhappy land, whose blessings tempt the sword.
In vain, unheard, thou call'st thy Persian lord !
In vain thou court'st him, helpless, to thine aid
To shield the shepherd, and protect the maid !
Far off, in thoughtless indolence resign'd, 35
Soft dreams of love and pleasure sooth his mind :
ORIENTAL ECLOGUES. 21
Midst fair sultanas lost in idle joy,
No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy.
Agib.
Yet these green hills, in summer's sultry heat,
Have lent the monarch oft a cool retreat. "^4°
Sweet to the sight is Zabran's flow'ry pla^in.
And once by maids and shepherds lov'd in vain !
No more the virgins shall delight to rove
By Sargis' banks, or Irwan's shady grove ;
On Tarkie's mountain catch the cooling gale, 45
Or breathe the scents of Aly's fiow'ry vale :
Fair scenes ! but, ah ! no more with peace possest,
With ease alluring, and with plenty blest.
No more the shepherds' whit'ning tents appear,
Nor the kind products of a bounteous year ; 5°
No more the date with snowy blossoms crown'd !
But Ruin spreads her baleful fires around.
Secander.
In vain Circassia boasts her spicy groves.
For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves :
In vain she boasts her fairest of the fair, 55
Their eyes' blue languish, and their golden hair!
Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send ;
Those hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.
Agib.
Ye Georgian swains that piteous learn from far
Circassia's ruin, and the waste of war, 6o
Some weightier arms than crooks and staves prepare,
To shield your harvests, and defend your fair :
49- No more the shepherds' whit'ning seats appear, — I742-
51. No more the dale with snowy blossoms crown'd 1 — 1742.
22 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
The Turk and Tartar like designs pursue,
Fix'd to destroy, and steadfast to undo.
Wild as his land, in native desarts bred, 65
By lust incited, or by malice led.
The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey.
Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the way;
Yet none so cruel as the Tartar foe,
To death inur'd, and nurst in scenes of woe. 7°
He said ; when loud along the vale was heard
A shriller shriek, and nearer fires appear'd :
Th' affrighted shepherds, thro' the dews of night.
Wide o'er the moonlight hills renew'd their flight.
THE END OF THE FOURTH AND LAST ECLOGUE.
AN EPISTLE
ADDRESST TO SIR THOMAS HANMER ON HIS EDITION
OF SHAKESPEAR's WORKS.
TO SIR THOMAS HANMER:
Sir,
While, born to bring the Muse's happier days,
A patriot's hand protects a poet's lays :
While, nurst by you, she sees her myrtles bloom,
Green and unwither'd o'er his honour'd tomb :
Excuse her doubts, ifyet she fears to tell 5
What secret transports in her bosom swell :
With conscious awe she hears the critic's fame.
And blushing hides her wreath at Shakespear's name.
Hard was the lot those injur'd strains endur'd,
Unown'd by Science, and by years obscur'd : lo
Fair Fancy wept; and echoing sighs confest
A fixt despair in ev'ry tuneful breast.
Not with more grief th' afiflicted swains appear
When wintry winds deform the plenteous year:
1-6. While, own'd by you, with smiles the Muse surveys
Th' expected triumph of her sweetest lays ;
While, stretch'd at ease, she boasts your guardian aid.
Secure and happy in hgr sylvan shade;
Excuse her iea.rsfm\o scarce a verse bestows
In just ronrembrance of the debt she owes : ■ — 1743.
9-16. Long-slighted Fancy, with a mother's care,
Wept o'er his works, and felt the last despair.
Torn from her head, she saw the roses fall,
Ey all deserted, tho' admir'd by all.
" And oh ! " she cry'd, " shall Science still resign
Whate'er is Nature's, and whate'er is mine?
Shall Taste and Art but shew a cold regard.
And scornful Pride reject th' unletter'd bard .''
Ye myrtled nymphs, who own my gentle reign,
Tune the sweet lyre, and grace my airy train !
26 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
When ling'ring frosts the ruin'd seats invade '5
Where Peace resorted, and the Graces play'd.
Each rising art by just gradation moves,
Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves :
The Muse alone unequal dealt her rage.
And grac'd with noblest pomp her earliest stage. 20
Preserv'd thro' time, the speaking scenes impart
Each changeful wish of Phaedra's tortur'd heart :
Or paint the curse that mark'd the Theban's ^ reign,
A bed incestuous, and a father slain.
With kind concern our pitying eyes o'erflow, 25
Trace the sad tale, and own another's woe.
To Rome remov'd, with wit secure to please,
The Comic Sisters kept their native ease.
With jealous fear declining Greece beheld
Her own Menander's art almost excell'd ! 3°
But ev'ry Muse essay'd to raise in vain
Some labour'd rival of her tragic strain ;
Ilissus' laurels, tho' transferr'd with toil,
Droop'd their fair leaves, nor knew th' unfriendly soil.
If, where ye rove, your searching eyes have known
One perfect mind, which judgment calls its own:
There ev'ry breast its fondest hopes must bend.
And ev'ry Muse with tears await her friend."
'Twas then fair Isis from her stream arose,
In kind compassion of her sister's woes.
'Twas then she promis'd to the mourning maid
Th' immortal honours, which thy hands have paid:
" My best-lov'd son," she said, "shall yet restore
Thy ruin'd sweets, and Fancy weep no more." — 1743-
25. Line after line, our pitying eyes o'erflow, — I743-
27. To Rome remov'd, with equal pow'r to please, — 1743'
1 The (Edipus of Sophocles. — C.
AA" EPISTLE. 27
As Arts expir'd, resistless Dullness rose ; 35
Goths, priests, or Vandals, — all were Learning's foes.
Till Julius ' first recall'd each exil'd maid,
And Cosmo own'd them in th' Etrurian shade :
Then, deeply skill'd in love's engaging theme.
The soft Provencal pass'd to Arno's stream : 40
With graceful ease the wanton lyre he strung,
Sweet fiow'd the lays — but love was all he sung.
The gay description could not fail to move ;
For, led by nature, all are friends to love.
But heav'n, still various in its works, decreed 45
The perfect boast of time should last succeed.
The beauteous union must appear, at length.
Of Tuscan fancy, and Athenian strength :
One greater Muse Eliza's reign adorn.
And ev'n a Shakespear to her fame be born ! 50
Yet ah ! so bright her morning's op'ning ray.
In vain our Britain hop'd an equal day !
No second growth the western isle could bear,
At once exhausted with too rich a year.
Too nicely Johnson knew the critic's part ; 55
Nature in him was almost lost in art.
35-42. When Rome herself, her envy'd glories dead,
No more imperial, stoop'd her conquer'd head :
Luxuriant Florence chose a softer theme,
While all was peace, by Arno's silver stream.
With sweeter notes th' Etrurian vales complain'd,
And arts reviving told — a Cosmo reign 'd.
Their wanton lyres the bards of Provence strung,
Sweet flow'd the lays, but love was all they sung. — I743-
45. But heav'n, still rising in its works, decreed — I743-
^ Julius the Second, the immediate predecessor of Leo the
Tenth. — C.
28 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Of softer mold the gentle Fletcher came,
The next in order, as the next in name.
With pleas'd attention midst his scenes we find
Each glowing thought that warms the female mind ; 60
Each melting sigh, and ev'ry tender tear.
The lover's wishes and the virgin's fear.
His ev'ry strain the Smiles and Graces own ; ^
But stronger Shakespear felt for man alone :
Drawn by his pen, our ruder passions stand 65
Th' unrivall'd picture of his early hand.
With gradual steps and slow,- exacter France
Saw Art's fair empire o'er her shores advance :
By length of toil, a bright perfection knew,
Correctly bold, and just in all she drew. 7°
Till late Corneille, with Lucan's^ spirit fir'd,
Breath'd the free strain, as Rome and he inspir'd :
And classic judgment gained to sweet Racine
The temp'rate strength of Maro's chaster line.
But wilder far the British laurel spread, 75
And wreaths less artful crown our poet's head.
Yet he alone to ev'ry scene could give
Th' historian's truth, and bid the manners live.
Wak'd at his call I view, with glad surprise,
Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rise. 80
63. His ev'ry strain the Loves and Graces own ; — '743-
71, 72. Till late Corneille from epick Lucan brought
The full expression, and the Roman thought ; — i743-
1 Their characters are thus distinguished by Mr. Dryden. — C.
2 About the time of Shakespear, the poet Hardy was in great repute
in France. He wrote, according to f^ontenelle, six hundred plays.
The French poets after him applied themselves in general to the
correct improvement of the stage, which was almost totally disre-
garded by those of our own country, Johnson excepted. — C.
^The favourite author of the elder Corneille. — C.
AN- EPISTLE. 29
There Henry's trumpets spread their loud alarms,
And laurell'd Conquest waits her hero's arms.
Here gentler Edward claims a pitying sigh,
Scarce born to honours, and so soon to die !
Yet shall thy throne, unhappy infant, bring • 85
No beam of comfort to the guilty king :
The time shall come^ when Glo'ster's heart shall bleed,
In life's last hours, with horror of the deed :
When dreary visions shall at last present
Thy vengeful image, in the midnight tent : 90
Thy hand unseen the secret death shall bear.
Blunt the weak sword, and break th' oppressive spear.
Where'er we turn, by Fancy charm'd, we find
Some sweet illusion of the cheated mind.
Oft, wild of wing, she calls the soul to rove 95
With humbler nature, in the rural grove ;
Where swains contented own the quiet scene.
And twilight fairies tread the circled green :
Brest by her hand, the woods and vallies smile,
And Spring diffusive decks th' enchanted isle. 100
O more than all in pow'rful genius blest.
Come, take thine empire o'er the willing breast !
Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart shall feel.
Thy songs support me, and thy morals heal !
There ev'ry thought the poet's warmth may raise, 105
There native music dwells in all the lays.
loi-iio. O blest in all that genius gives to charm,
Whose morals mend us, and whose passions warm !
Oft let my youth attend thy various page.
Where rich invention rules th' unbounded stage.
^ Tempus erit Turno, magno cum optaverit emptum
Intactum Pallanta, etc. Virg. — C.
30 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
O might some verse with happiest skill persuade
Expressive Picture to adopt thine aid,
What wondrous draughts might rise from ev'ry page,
What other Raphaels charm a distant age ! i lo
Methinks ev'n now I view some free design,
Where breathing nature lives in ev'ry line :
Chaste and subdu'd the modest lights decay.
Steal into shade, and mildly melt away.
— And see, where Anthony,^ in tears approv'd, 115
Guards the pale relicks of the chief he lov'd :
O'er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend.
Deep sunk in grief, and mourns his murther'd friend !
Still as they press, he calls on all around,
Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound. 120
But who is he,^ whose brows exalted bear
A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air ?
Awake to all that injur'd worth can feel,
On his own Rome he turns th' avenging steel.
There ev'ry scene the poet's warmth may raise,
And melting music find the softest lays.
O might the Muse with equal ease persuade
Expressive Picture to adopt thine aid,
Some pow'rful Raphael should again appear,
And Arts consenting fix their empire here. — I743-
III. Methinks ev'n now I view some fair design, — •743-
1 1 3- 1 1 6. Chaste, and subdu'd, the modest colours lie,
In fair proportion to th' approving eye.
And see, where Antony lamenting stands
In fix'd distress, and spreads his pleading hands I
— 1743-
122-124. A rage impatient, and a fiercer air?
Ev'n now his thoughts with eager vengeance doom
The last sad ruin of ungrateful Rome. — 1743-
1 See the tragedy oi Julius Caesar. — C.
2 Coriolanus. See Mr. Spence's Dialogues on the Odyssey. — C.
AJV EPISTLE. 31
Yet shall not War's insatiate fury fall 125
(So heav'n ordains it) on the destin'd wall.
See the fond mother, midst the plaintive train,
Hung on his knees, and prostrate on the plain !
Touch 'd to the soul, in vain he strives to hide
The son's affection, in the Roman's pride : 13°
O'er all the man conflicting passions rise.
Rage grasps the sword, while Pity melts the eyes.
Thus, gen'rous critic, as thy bard inspires.
The sister Arts shall nurse their drooping fires ;
Each from his scenes her stores alternate bring, 135
Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string :
Those sibyl-leaves, the sport of ev'ry wind
(For poets ever were a careless kind).
By thee dispos'd, no farther toil demand.
But, just to nature, own thy forming hand. 140
So, spread o'er Greece, th' harmonious whole unknown,
Ev'n Homer's numbers charm'd by parts alone.
Their own Ulysses scarce had wander'd more.
By winds and waters -^ cast on ev'ry shore :
When, rais'd by fate, some former Hanmer joined '45
Each beauteous image of the boundless mind :
And bad, like thee, his Athens ever claim
A fond alliance with the poet's name.
125-130. Till, slow-advancing o'er the tented plain,
In sable weeds, appear the kindred-train :
The frantic mother leads their wild despair,
Beats her swoln breast, and rends her silver hair.
And see, he yields ! the tears unbidden start,
And conscious nature claims th' unwilling heart ! — 1743.
136. Spread the fair tints, or wake the vocal string : — i743-
146. Each beauteous image of the tuneful mind ; — 1743-
1 In the edition of 1744, the reading is water ; but as this seems
like a mere typographical error, the earlier text has been followed.
ODES
ON SEVERAL DESCRIPTIVE AND ALLEGORIC SUBJECTS.
UlTJV
'EvprjCTLewri'i dvayeicrdai.
Ilpocrcpopos iv 'Moicrdu Ai(ppu) •
T6\fj.a 5e Kal d/j.(pi\a(pT]s 5y;'a,uts
' EcTTTOtTO.
— TLivdap, OXv/jLir. 6.
ODE TO PITY.
O THOU, the friend of man, assign'd
With balmy hands his wounds to bind,
xAnd charm his frantic woe :
When first Distress with dagger keen
Broke forth to waste his destin'd scene, 5
His wild unsated foe !
By Bella's bard,^ a magic name,
By all the griefs his thought could frame.
Receive my humble rite :
Long, Bity, let the nations view lo
Thy sky-worn robes of tend'rest blue.
And eyes of dewy light !
But wherefore need I wander wide
To old Ilissus' distant side.
Deserted stream, and mute? 15
Wild Arun ^ too has heard thy strains.
And Echo, midst my native plains.
Been sooth'd by Bity's lute.
There first the wren thy myrtles shed
On gentlest Otway's infant head, 20
To him thy cell was shown ;
And while he sung the female heart,
With youth's soft notes unspoil'd by art,
Thy turtles mix'd their own.
1 Euripides, of whom Aristotle pronounces, on a comparison of
him with Sophocles, that he was the greater master of the tender
passions, tJv rpayiKurepos. — C.
2 The river Arun runs by the village in Sussex, where Otway had
his birth. — C.
36 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
( Come, Pity, come ! By Fancy's aid, 25
Ev'n now my thoughts, relenting maid,
Thy temple's pride design :
Its southern site, its truth compleat,
Shall raise a wild enthusiast heat
In all who view the shrine. 3°
There Picture's toils shall well relate
How chance, or hard involving fate,
O'er mortal bliss prevail :
The buskin'd Muse shall near her stand,
And sighing prompt her tender hand 35
With each disastrous tale.
There let me oft, retir'd by day.
In dreams of passion melt away,
Allow'd with thee to dwell :
There waste the mournful lamp of night, 40
Till, virgin, thou again delight
To hear a British shell !
ODE TO FEAR.
STROPHE.
Thou to whom the world unknown
With all its shadowy shapes is shown ;
Who see'st appall'd th' unreal scene.
While Fancy lifts the veil between :
Ah Fear ! ah frantic Fear !
I see, I see thee near !
I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye !
Like thee I start, like thee disorder'd fly.
For lo what monsters in thy train appear !
ODES. 37
Danger, whose limbs of giant mold lo
What mortal eye can fix'd behold ?
Who stalks his round, an hideous form,
Howling amidst the midnight storm,
Or throws him on the ridgy steep
Of some loose hanging rock to sleep : 15
And with him thousand phantoms join'd,
Who prompt to deeds accurs'd the mind :
And those, the fiends who, mear allied.
O'er Nature's wounds and wrecks preside ;
Whilst Vengeance, in the lurid air, 20
Lifts her red arm, expos'd and bare :
On whom that rav'ning brood of Fate,^
Who lap the blood of Sorrow, wait ;
Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see.
And look not madly wild, like thee ? 25
In earliest Greece to thee, with partial choice.
The grief-full Muse addrest her infant tongue ;
The maids and matrons, on her awful voice,
Silent and pale in wild amazement hung.
Yet he, the bard ^ who first invok'd thy name, 3°
Disdain'd in Marathon its pow'r to feel:
For not alone he nurs'd the poet's flame.
But reach'd from Virtue's hand the patriot's steel.
But who is he whom later garlands grace.
Who left awhile o'er Hybla's dews to rove, 35
With trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace.
Where thou and Furies shar'd the baleful grove ?
^ Alluding to the Kiva.% d(p\jKTovs of Sophocles. See the Electra. — C.
2 ii^schylus. — C.
4264G5
38 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Wrapt in thy cloudy veil th' incestuous queen '
Sigh'd the sad call ^ her son and husband heard,
When once alone it broke the silent scene, 4°
And he, the wretch of Thebes, no more appear'd.
Fear, I know thee by my throbbing heart:
Thy with'ring pow'r inspir'd each mournful line ;
The' gentle Pity claim her mingled part,
Yet all the thunders of the scene are thine ! 45
ANTISTROPHE.
Thou who such weary lengths hast past,
Where wilt thou rest, mad nymph, at last ?
Say, wilt thou shroud in haunted cell.
Where gloomy Rape and Murder dwell ?
Or in some hollow'd seat, 50
'Gainst which the big waves beat,
Hear drowning seamen's cries in tempests brought ?
Dark pow'r, with shudd'ring, meek, submitted thought
Be mine to read the visions old
Which thy awak'ning bards have told : 55
And, lest thou meet my blasted view,
Hold each strange tale devoutly true ;
Ne'er be I found, by thee o'eraw'd,
In that thrice-hallow'd eve abroad
When ghosts, as cottage maids believe, 60
Their pebbled beds permitted leave,
And goblins haunt, from fire, or fen,
Or mine, or flood, the walks of men !
1 Jocasta. — C.
2 oi)5 «r upwpei ^otJ,
'Hv ixkv cncjTnfi ; vr]s rpixas.
See the (Edip. Colon, of Sophocles. — C.
ODES. • 39
O thou whose spirit most possest
The sacred seat of Shakespear's breast, 65
By all that from thy prophet broke,
In thy divine emotions spoke,
Hither again thy fury deal !
Teach me but once like him to feel, ^v
His cypress wreath my meed decree, ':' 7°
And I, O Fear, will dwell with thee !
V
,->
ODE TO SIMPLICITY.
O THOU by Nature taught
To breathe her genuine thought.
In numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong :
Who first, on mountains wild.
In Fancy, loveliest child, 5
Thy babe or Pleasure's, nurs'd the pow'rs of song !
Thou who with hermit heart
Disdain'st the wealth of art.
And gauds, and pageant weeds, and trailing pall.
But com'st a decent maid 10
In Attic robe array'd,
O chaste, unboastful nymph, to thee I call 1
By all the honey'd store
On Hybla's thymy shore,
By all her blooms, and mingled murmurs dear, 15
By her ^ whose lovelorn woe
In ev'ning musings slow
Sooth'd sweetly sad Electra's poet's ear :
1 The dT/Swc, or nightingale, for which Sophocles seems to have
entertain'd a peculiar fondness. — C.
40 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
By old Cephisus deep,
Who spread his wavy sweep 20
In warbled wand'rings round thy green retreat,
On whose enamell'd side
When holy Freedom died,
No equal haunt allur'd thy fut^ire feet:
O sister meek of Truth, 25
To my admiring youth
Thy sober aid and native charms infuse !
The flow'rs that sweetest breathe,
Tho' Beauty cull'd the wreath,
Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues. 3°
While Rome could none esteem
But virtue's patriot theme,
You lov'd her hills, and led her«laureate band :
But staid to sing alone
To one distinguish'd throne, 35
And turn'd thy face, and fled her alter'd land.
No more, in hall or bow'r.
The passions own thy pow'r ;
Love, only love, her forceless numbers mean :
For thou hast left her shrine ; . 4°
Nor olive more, nor vine,
Shall gain thy feet to bless the servile scene.
Tho' taste, tho' genius bless
To some divine excess,
Faints the cold work till thou inspire the whole ; 45
What each, what all supply.
May court, may charm our eye.
Thou, only thou, canst raise the meeting soul !
ODES. 41
Of these let others ask,
To aid some mighty task ; 5°
I only seek to find thy temp'rate vale : >'■
Where oft my reed might sound
To maids and shepherds round,
And all thy sons, O Nature, learn my tale.
ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER.
STROPHE.
As once, if not with light regard
I read aright that gifted bard
(Him whose school above the rest
His loveliest Elfin Queen has blest),
One, only one, unrivall'd f air ^ S
Might hope the magic girdle wear.
At solemn turney hung on high.
The wish of each love-darting eye ;
Lo ! to each other nymph in turn applied.
As if, in air unseen, some hov'ring hand,*' lo
Some chaste and angel friend to virgin fame,
With whisper'd spell had burst the starting band,
It left unblest her loath'd, dishonour'd sidej
Happier hopeless fair, if never
Her baffled hand with vain endeavour 15
_Had touch'd that fatal zone to her denied !
/ Young Fancy thus, to me divinest name,
To whom, prepar'd and bath'd in heav'n.
The cest of amplest pow'r is giv'n.
To few the godlike gift assigns, 20
To gird their blest, prophetic loins,
; And gaze her visions wild, and feel unmix'd her flame !
1 Elorimel. See Spenser, Leg. 4th. — C.
40
POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
EPODE.
The band, as fairy legends say,
Was wove on that creating day
When He who call'd with thought to birth 25
Yon tented sky, this laughing earth.
And drest with springs and forests tall,
And pour'd the main engirting all,
Long by the lov'd enthusiast woo'd,
Himself in some diyiner mood, 3°
Retiring, sate with her alone.
And plac'd her on his sapphire throne,
The whiles, the vaulted shrine around.
Seraphic wires were heard to sound.
Now sublimest.triuniph swellrhg, 35
Now oh love and mercy dwelling ;
And she, from out the veiling cloud,
Br^ath'd her rtagic notes aloud :
And thou, thou rich-hair'd Youth of Morn,
And all thy subject life, was born ! 40
The dang'rous Passions kept aloof.
Far from the sainted growing woof :
But. near it sate ecstatic Wonder,
Llst'nrifig the deep applauding thunder ; .
And Truth, in sunny vest array'd, 45
By whose the tarsel's eyes were made;
All the shad'wy tribes of mind
In braided dance their murmurs join'd.
And all the bright uncounted Pow'rs
Who feed on heav'n's ambrosial flow'rs. 5°
Where is the bard whose soul can now
Its high presuming hopes avow ?
Where he who thinks, with rapture blind,
This hallow'd work for him design'd ?
ODES. 43
ANTISTROPHE.
High on some cliff, to heav'n up-pil'd, 55
Of rude access, of prospect wild.
Where, tangled round the jealous steep,
Strange shades o'er-brow the valleys deep,
And holy genii guard the rock.
Its glooms embrown, its springs unlock, 60
While on its rich ambitious head
An Eden, like his own, lies spread,
I view that oak, the fancied glades among.
By which as Milton lay, his ev'ning ear.
From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew, 65
Nigh spher'd in heav'n its native strains could hear,
On which that ancient trump he reach'd was hung :
Thither oft, his glory greeting,
From Waller's myrtle shades retreating,
With many a vow from Hope's aspiring tongue, 70
My trembling^'feet his guiding steps pursue ;
In vain — such bliss to one alone
Of all the sons of soul was known,
v^nd Heav'n and Fancy, kindred pow'rs,
Have now o'erturn'd th' inspiring bow'rs, 75
Or curtain'd close such scene from ev'ry future view.
ODE
WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR 1 746.
How sleep the brave who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest!
W^hen Spring, with dewy -fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mold,
44 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung ;
There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay ;
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there 1
ODE TO MERCY.
STROPHE.
O THOU who sitt'st a smiling bride
By Valour's arm'd and awful sid^,'
Gentlest of sky-born forms, and best ador'd :
Who oft with songs, divine to heai^
Winn'st from his fatal grasp the spear, 5
And hid'st in wreaths of flow'rs his bloodless sword !
^ Thou who, amidst the deathful field.
By godlike chiefs alone beheld.
Oft with thy bosom bare art found,
Pleading for him the youth who sinks to ground : lo
See, Mercy, see ! with pure and loaded hands.
Before thy shrine my country's genius stands.
And decks thy altar still, tho' pierc'd with many a wound !
ANTISTROPHE.
When he whom ev'n our joys provoke.
The Fiend of Nature, join'd his yoke, iS
And rush'd in wrath to make our isle his prey,
Thy form, from out thy sweet abode,
(Xertook him on his blasted road.
And stopp'd his wheels, and l ook'd his rage away.
ODES. 45
I see recoil his sable steeds, 20
That bore him swift to salvage deeds ;
Thy tender melting eyes they own.
O maid, for all thy love to Britain shown,
I-' Where Justice bars her iron tow'r, _>.■' ^'^
^To thee we build a roseate bow'r. 25
Thou, thou shalt rule our queen, and share our monarch's
throne !
ODE TO LIBERTY.
STROPHE.
Who shall awake the Spartan fife,
And call in solemn sounds to life
The youths whose locks divinely spreading,
Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue,
At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding,
Applauding Freedom lov'd of old to view ?
What new Alcaeus,^ fancy-blest.
Shall sing the sword, in myrtles drest.
At Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing
(What place so fit to seal a deed renowned ?),
Till she her brightest lightnings round revealing,
It leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted wound?
^ Alluding to that beautiful fragment of Alcseus :
E;* fivpTov K\adl rb ^icpos (popriaci:,
Clcnrep 'Apfiddios k ApiffToyelrcov,
^iXrad' 'Apfj.68(.\ ovirw redvriKas,
"Nriffots 5 iv fiaKapwv ai cpaaiv eivai ■
E;' fxipTov KXadl rb ^i(pos (poprjcnc,
ilairep 'App-bSios k Api(rToyeiT(j}v,
Or A6r]vair]s iv dvcriais,
'AvSpa r^pavvov' iTTTrapxop eKaiviTrjv.
'Ael crcpl^v K\ios fcrcrerai Kar alau,
^iXraO' 'App,6di\ k ' ApiaToyeiTuv. — C.
46 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
O goddess, in that feeling hour,
When most its sounds would court thy ears,
Let not my shell's misguided pow'r 15
E'er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears. ^
No, Freedom, no, I will not tell
How Rome, before thy weeping face,
With heaviest sound, a giant statue, fell,
Push'd by a wild and artless race 20
From off its wide ambitious base.
When Time his Northern sons of spoil awoke.
And all the blended work of strength and grace,
With many a rude repeated stroke,
And many a barb'rous yell, to thousand fragments broke. 25
EPODE.
Yet ev'n where'er the least appear'd,
Th' admiring world thy hand rever'd ;
Still, midst the scatter'd states around.
Some remnants of her strength were found ;
They saw, by what escap'd the storm, 3°
How wondrous rose her perfect form.
How in the great, the labour'd whole.
Each mighty master pour'd his soul !
For sunny Florence, seat of Art,
Beneath her vines preserv'd a part, 35
Till they ^ whom Science lov'd to name
(O who could fear it ?) quench'd her flame.
And lo, an humbler relick laid
In jealous Pisa's olive shade !
^ M77 111) ravTa \^ywfj.€s, a SdKpvoi> ^7076 Ar)oT.
— Callimach., "T/jlvos eh A-/iiJ.r}Tpa. — C.
2 The family of the Medici. — C.
ODES. 47
See, small Marino ' joins the theme, 4°
Tho' least, not last in thy esteem.
Strike, louder strike th' ennobling strings
To those ^ whose merchant sons were kings ;
To him ^ who, deck'd with pearly pride.
In Adria weds his green-hair'd bride. 45
Hail, port of glory, wealth, and pleasure !
Ne'er let me change this Lydian measure.
Nor e'er her former pride relate
To sad Liguria's ■* bleeding state.
Ah no ! more pleas'd thy haunts I seek, 50
On wild Helvetia's ^ mountains bleak
(Where, when the favor'd of thy choice,
The daring archer, heard thy voice.
Forth from his eyrie rous'd in dread.
The rav'ning eagle northward fled) : 55
Or dwell in willow'd meads more near.
With those ^ to whom thy stork is dear ;
Those whom the rod of Alva bruis'd,
W'hose crown a British queen '' refus'd !
The magic works, thou feel'st the strains, 60
One holier name alone remains ;
The perfect spell shall then avail :
Hail nymph, ador'd by Britain, hail !
1 The little republic of San Marino. — C
2 The Venetians. — C.
3 The Doge of Venice. — C.
4 Genoa. — C.
5 Switzerland. — C.
^ The Dutch, amongst whom there are very severe penalties for
those who are convicted of killing this bird. They are kept tame
in almost all their towns, and particularly at the Hague, of the arms
of which they make a part. The common people of Holland are
said to entertain a superstitious sentiment, that if the whole species
of them should become extinct, they should lose their liberties. — C.
" Queen Elizabeth. — C.
48 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
ANTISTROPHE.
Beyond the measure vast of thought,
The works the wizard Time has wrought ! 6$
The Gaul, 't is held of antique story.
Saw Britain link'd to his now adverse strand ; '
No sea between, nor cliff sublime and hoary.
He pass'd with unwet feet thro' all our land.
To the blown Baltic then, they say, 70
The wild waves found another way,
Where Orcas howls, his wolfish mountains rounding ;
Till all the banded West at once 'gan rise,
A wide wild storm ev'n Nature's self confounding,
With'ring her giant sons with strange uncouth surprise. 75
This pillar'd earth so firm and wide.
By winds and inward labors torn.
In thunders dread was push'd aside.
And down the should'ring billows borne.
And see, like gems, her laughing train, 80
The little isles on ev'ry side !
Mona, once hid from those who search the main,^
^ This tradition is mentioned by several of our old historians.
Some naturalists, too, have endeavor'd to support the probability of
the fact, by arguments drawn from the correspondent disposition of
the two opposite coasts. I don't remember that any poetical use
has been hitherto made of it. — C.
2 There is a tradition in the Isle of Man, that a mermaid, becoming
enamour'd of a young man of extraordinary beauty, took an oppor-
tunity of meeting him one day as he walk'd on the shore, and
open'd her passion to him, but was receiv'd with a coldness, occa-
sion'd by his horror and surprise at her appearance. This, however,
was so misconstru'd by the sea-lady that, in revenge for his treat-
ment of her, she punish'd the whole island by covering it with a
mist, so that all who attempted to carry on any commerce with it
either never arriv'd at it, but wander'd up and down the sea, or
were on a sudden wreck'd upon its cliffs. — C.
ODES. 49
Where thousand elfin shapes abide,
And Wight, who checks the west'ring tide ;
For thee consenting Heav'n has each bestowed, 85
A fair attendant on her sov'reign pride.
To thee this blest divorce she ow'd.
For thou hast made her vales thy lov'd, thy last abode !
SECOND EPODE.
Then too, 't is said, an hoary pile,
Midst the green navel of our isle, 90
Thy shrine in some religious wood,
O soul-enforcing goddess, stood !
There oft the painted native's feet
Were wont thy form celestial meet :
Tho' now with hopeless toil we trace 95
Time's backward rolls to find its place ;
Whether the fiery-tressed Dane
Or Roman's self o'erturn'd the fane.
Or in what heaven-left age it fell,
'T were hard for modern song to tell. 100
Yet still, if truth those beams infuse
Which guide at once and charm the Muse,
Beyond yon braided clouds that lie,
Paving the light-embroider'd sky,
Amidst the bright pavilion'd plains, 105
The beauteous model still remains.
There, happier than in islands blest,
Or bow'rs by Spring or Hebe drest.
The chiefs who fill our Albion's story,
In warlike weeds, retir'd in glory, no
Hear their consorted druids sing
Their triumphs to th' immortal string.
How may the poet now unfold
What never tongue or numbers told ?
50 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
How learn, delighted and amaz'd, 115
What hands unknown that fabric rais'd ?
Ev'n now, before his favor'd eyes,
In Gothic pride it seems to rise !
Yet Grfficia's graceful orders join,
Majestic thro' the mix'd design; 120
The secret builder knew to chuse
Each sphere-found gem of richest hues :
VVhate'er heav'n's purer mold contains.
When nearer suns emblaze its veins ;
There on the walls the patriot's sight 125
May ever hang with fresh delight.
And, grav'd with some prophetic rage.
Read Albion's fame thro' ev'ry age.
Ye forms divine, ye laureate band,.
That near her inmost altar stand, 130
Now sooth her to her blissful train
Blithe Concord's social form to gain :
Concord, whose myrtle wand can steep
Ev'n Anger's bloodshot eyes in sleep :
Before whose breathing bosom's balm 135
Rage drops his steel, and storms grow calm.
Her let our sires and matrons hoar
Welcome to Britain's ravag'd shore ;
Our youths, enamour'd of the fair.
Play with the tangles of her hair ; 140
Till, in one loud applauding sound,
The nations shout to her around,
"O how supremely art thou blest !
Thou, lady, thou shalt rule the West ! "
ODES. 51
ODE TO A LADY
ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL ROSS IN THE
ACTION OF FONTENOY.
While, lost to all his former mirth,
Britannia's genius bends t o earth.
And mourns the fatal day :
While, stain'd with blood, he strives to tear
Unseemly from his sea-green hair 5
The wreaths of chearful May :
The thoughts which musing Pity pays.
And fond Remembrance loves to raise,
Your faithful hours attend :
Still Fancy, to herself unkind, lo
Awakes to grief the soften 'd mind,
And points the bleeding friend.
By rapid Scheld's descending wave
His country's vows shall bless the grave,
Where'er the youth is laid : 15
That sacred spot the village hind
With ev'ry sweetest turf shall bind.
And Peace protect the shade .
O'er him whose doom thy virtues grieve
Aerial forms shall sit at eve 20
And bend the pensive head !
And, fall'n to save his injur'd land.
Imperial Honour's awful hand
Shall point his lonely bed !
4. While, sunk in grief, he strives to tear — MS.
19-24. Ev'p -'^if.i] of his doom,
^unts his tomb,
' '^rown'd :
/
52 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
The warlike dead of ev'ry age, 25
Who fill the fair recording page, ^
Shall leave their sainted rest :
And, half-reclining on his spear,
Each wond'ring chief by turns appear,
To hail the blooming guest. 30
Old Edward's sons, unknown to yield.
Shall crowd from Cressy's laurell'd field,
And gaze with fix'd delight :
Again for Britain's wrongs they feel, \
Again they snatch the gleamy steel, 35
And wish th' avenging fight.^
Whilst Freedom's form beside her roves
Majestic thro' the twilight groves,
And calls her heroes round. — 1746-
Blest youth, regardful of thy doom,
Aerial hands shall build thy tomb,
With shadowy trophies crown 'd :
Whilst Honour bathed in tears shall rove
To sigh thy name thro' ev'ry grove,
And call his heroes round. .* — 1747-
31. Old Edward's sons, untaught to yield, . — MS.
1 In the text of 1747, th&.^ following sfanzas were inserted after
line 36 : 4 . . '
But lo where, suiiV in deep despair,
Her garments torn\her bosom bare,
Impatient Freedom lies !
Her matted tresses m^ly spread.
To ev'ry sod which wra|)s the dead \
She turns her joyless e^s.
Ne'er shall she leave that lowly ground,
Till notes of triumph bursting round
Proclaim her reign restor'd :
Till William seek the sad ret>-'>'' '^
And, bleeding at her s'
Present the sated
\
i»
ODES.
53
If, weak to sooth so soft an' heart,
These pictur'd glories nought impart
To dry thy constant tear :
If yet, in Sorrow's distant eye,
Expos'd and pale thou see'st him lie,
Wild War insulting near :
W'here'er from time thou court'st relief,
The Muse shall still, with social grief,
Her gentlest promise keep :
Ev'n humble Harting's cottag'd vale
Shall learn the sad-repeated tale,
And bid her. shepherds weep.
40
45
ODE TO EVEXIXG.
If ought of oaten st^p-yyr pastoral sjipg,
May hppe, chaste Eve, to sooth thy ip^dest ear,
Like thy ^wn s^jle^mn^spfi^g^^jai
Thy springs and .dying gales, .,,-
O nyrnpn ic3?rv'd .rh'}]o -ow tht^ brigM'-'iair'd son
Sfe in yon western Ic' t. wiwse' cto.-jdy skirts,
With brede ethereal wove,
O'erhang his wavy beL^. • ,^ ^^^ ^1^,^^
Now air i^ hush'd, save where the weak-ey'^ ^^^
With 5h^t sh^l shneW^flits by on leather n,;Wi|g,.. .•,- *
Or where the beetle winds .« ■;-'r,:^.-. • V
His small but sullen horn,
37. If, drawn by all a lover's art, ->
46. Ev'n humble Harting's cottage vale
47. Shall learn the sad repeated tale, <
2, 3. May hope, O pensive Eve, to sooth thinei|b.'^-;^if :. ^, ^
Like thy own brawling springs, ^ "'^ / .'^ • aT^^'
f
54 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
As oft )ie rises 'midst' the twilight path,
Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum :
^ Now teach me, maid compos'd, iS
To breathe some soften'd strain.
Whose numbers, stealing thro' thy dark'ning vale,
May not uKseeral*^ with \t% sull,ness suit,
\As, musing slow, I.hail
Thy genial lov'd return ! "^ 20
For when thy fqldfing-star arising shews
His p(aiy(circiei;, at his warninglamp
The fragrant Hours, and elves
Who slept in flow'rs the day, '
And many a nym^h who wreaths her brows with sedge, 25
And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and, lovelier still,^^ (2^^^-^^
-'The pensive (JHeasures sweet, ^ y.'O^^'"'*-
Prepare thy shadowy car.
30
JTiienJe^d.^calm yot'ress, where sojp,e sbeety lake
^-y-''^ ^^^Ail^i^lP^^ lieatt^ or si^^ tirrfe-Hallow'd pUe
L^''/^!j^0^^ig!>dIaT^^sifiy^ .^^ x
L^, ' ' ^ectHtsji^t coo:, ^eam. ^^^ \ ^ .*
^^*""* ■- •/ ■ ^ t / / f *"* '^ '
But wl^5iiiBfcti\.^'st'^ing winds,/©^ '^r»'^"*?;,'-.''ir..,
^ orbid my wiflj^ feet, be mine the hiit
That h'or* tho mountain's -side
' Views V ilds, .md swelling floods, * v
24. Who slept ■ 1 buds the day, — I747-
29-32. Tben let mt 'ove some wild and heathy scene,
- '1: - -' somt luin -"idst its dreary dells,
=!e walls more awful nod
V religious gleams. — 1747-
33'^"' ;ii lllii'^t'ring winds, or driving rain,
ijiEreveLt my willing feet, be mine the hut — 1747.
ODES. 55
And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires,
And heajs their simple bell, and marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil. 4°
While Spring shall pour his show'rs, as oft he wont,
And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ;
While Summer loves to sport
Beneath thy ling'ring light ;
While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves ; 45
Or Winter, yelling thro' the troublous air.
Affrights thy shrinking train,
And rudely rends thy robes ;
So long, sure-found beneath, the sylvan shed,
Shall Fancy, Fi'ieudship, Science, rose-lipp'd Health, 50
Thy gentlest influence own.
And hymn thy fav'rite name !
ODE TO PEACE.
O THOU who bad'st thy turtles bear
Swift from his grasp thy golden hair,
And sought'st thy native skies :
When War, by vultures drawn from far,
To Britain bent his iron car.
And bad his storm arise !
Tir'd of his rude tyrannic sway.
Our youth shall fix some festive day,
His sullen shrines to burn :
49-52. So long,/-egardful of thy quiet rule,
Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace,
Thy gentlest influence own,
And love thy fav'rite uame ! — i747'
49. So long, sure-found beneath thy sylvan shed, — ^1753-
56 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
But thou who hear'st the turning spheres, lo
What sounds may charm thy partial ears,
And gain thy blesf return !
O Peace, thy injur'd robes up-bind 1
O rise, and leave not one behind
Of all thy beamy train ! • 15
The British lion, goddess sweet,
Lies stretch'd on earth to kiss thy feet.
And own thy holier reign.
Let others court thy transient smile.
But come to grace thy western isle, 20
By warlike Honour led !
And, while around her ports rejoice,
While all her sons adore thy choice.
With him for ever wed !
THE MANNERS. AN ODE.
Farewell, for clearer ken design'd,
The dim-discover'd tracts of Mind :
Truths which, from Action's paths retir'd,
My silent search in vain requir'd !
No more my sail that deep explores,
No more I search those magic shores,
What regions part the world of Soul,
Or whence !hy streams, Opinion, roll :
If e'er I round such fairy field.
Some pow'r impart the spear and shield
At which the wizard Passions fly.
By which the giant Follies die !
Farewell the Porch, whose roof is seen
Arch'd with th' enliv'ning olive's green :
ODES. 57
Where Scieoce, prank'd in tissu'd vest, 15
By Jleason, Pride, and Fancy drest,
Comes like a bride so trim array'd.
To wed with Doubt in Plato's shade !
Youth of the quick uncheated sight.
Thy walks, Observance, more invite ! 20
O thou who lov'st that ampler range
Where Life's wide prospects round thee change,
And, with her mingling sons ally'd,
Throw'st the prattling page aside,
To me in converse sweet impart 25
To read in man the native heart,
To learn, where Science sure is found.
From Nature as she lives around,
And, gazing oft her mirror true,
By turns each shifting image view ! 3°
Till meddling Art's officious lore
.Reverse the lessons taught before.
Alluring from a safer rule
To dream in her enchanted school,
Thou, Heav'n, whate'er of great we boast, 35
Hast blest this social Science most.
Retiring hence to thoughtful cell.
As Fancy breathes her potent spell,
Not vain she finds the charmful task :
In pageant quaint, in motley mask, 40
Behold, before her musing eyes,
The countless Manners round her rise ;
While, ever varying as they pass,
To some Contempt applies her glass :
With these the white-rob'd maids combine 45
And those the laughing satyrs join !
But who is he whom now she views,
In robe of wild contending hues ?
58 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Thou by the Passions nurs'd, I greet
The comic sock that binds thy feet ! 50
O Humour, thou whose name is known
To Britain'^ favor'd isle alone,
Me too amidst thy band admit.
There where the young-ey'd healthful Wit
(Whose jewels in his crisped hair 55
Are plac'd each other's beams to share,
Whom no delights from thee divide)
In laughter loos'd attends thy side !
By old Miletus,^ who so long
Has ceas'd his love-inwoven song : 60
By all you taught the Tuscan maids.
In chang'd Italia's modern shades :
By him - whose knight's distinguish'd name
Refin'd a nation's lust of fame ;
Whose tales ev'n now, with echoes sweet, 65
Castilia's Moorish hills repeat :
Or him ^ whom Seine's blue nymphs deplore,
In watchet weeds, on Gallia's shore,
Who drew the sad Sicilian maid,
By virtues in her sire betray'd : 7°
O Nature boon, from whom proceed
Each forceful thought, each prompted deed.
If but from thee I hope to feel.
On all my heart imprint thy seal!
Let some retreating cynic find 75
Those oft-turn'd scrolls I leave behind :
The Sports and I this hour agree
To rove thy scene-full world with thee !
1 Alluding to the Milesian Talcs, some of the earliest romances. — C.
2 Cervantes. — C.
^ Monsieur Le Sage, author of the incomparable Ach'entiires of
" ' "' ^mitillane, who died in Paris in the year 1745. — C.
ODES. 59
THE PASSIONS.
AN ODE FOR MUSIC.
When Music, heav'nly maid, was young,
While yet in early Greece she sung,
The Passions oft, to hear her shell,
Throng'd around her magic cell.
Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, 5
Possest beyond the Muse's painting;
By turns they felt the glowing mind
Disturb'd, delighted, rais'd, refin'd:
Till once, 't is said, when all were fir'd,
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd, lo
From the supporting myrtles round
They snatch'd her instruments of sound;
And as they oft had heard apart
Sweet lessons of her forceful art.
Each, for madness rul'd the hour, 15
Would prove his own expressive pow'r.
First Fear his hand, its skill to try.
Amid the chords bewilder'd laid,
And back recoil'd, he knew not why,
Ev'n at the sound himself had made. 20
Next Anger rush'd ; his eyes, on lire,
In lightnings own'd his secret stings ;
In one rude clash he struck the lyre.
And swept with hurried hand the strings.
With woful measures wan Despair 25
Low sullen sounds his grief beguil'd ;
A solemn, strange, and mingled air ;
'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild.
60 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair,
What was thy delightful measur^? 30
Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure.
And bad the lovely scenes at distance hail !
Still would her touch the strain prolong,
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,
She call'd on Echo still thro' all the song ; 35
And where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soft responsive voice was heard at ev'ry close.
And Hope enchanted smil'd, and wav'd her golden
hair.
And longer had she sung, — but with a frown
Revenge impatient rose ; 40
He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down
And with a with'ring look
The war-denouncing trumpet toolt.
And blew a blast so loud and dread.
Were ne'er prophetic sounds so £uH of were. 45
And ever and anon he beat.
The doubling-drum with furious heat ;
And tho' sometimes, each dreary pau^e between.
Dejected Pity, at his side.
Her soul-subduing voice apply'd, 5°
Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien.
While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd -bursting
from his head.
' ""- '..-.'
Thy numbers. Jealousy, to nought were fix'd.
Sad proof of thy distressful state ;
Of diff'ring themes the veering song was mix'd, "^ 55
And now it courted Love, now raving call'd on
Hate.
With eyes uprais'd, as one inspir'd,
Pale Melancholy sate retir'd,
ODES. 61
And from her wild sequester'd seat,
In notes by distance made more sweet, 60
Pour'd thro' the mellow horn her pensive soul :
And, dashing soft from rocks around.
Bubbling runnels join'd the sound ;
Thro' glades and glooms the mingled measure
stole ;
Or o'er some haunted stream with fond delay 65
Round an holy calm diffusing,
Love of peace and lonely musing,
In hollow murmurs died away.
But O how alter'd was its sprightlier tone.
When Chearfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, 70
Her bow across her shoulder flung,
Her buskins gemrnM with morning dew.
Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung,
The hunter's call to faun and dryad known !
The oak-crown'd sisters, and their chaste-ey'd
queen, 75
Satyrs, and sylvan boys, were SQen,
Peeping from forth their alleys green ;
Brown Exercise rejoic'd to hear.
And Sport leapt up, and seiz'd his beechen spear.
Last came Joy's ecstatic trial. 80
He, with viny crown advancing.
First to the lively pipe his hand addrest ;
But soon he saw the brisk awak'ning vio4,
Whose sweet entrancing voice he lov'd the best.
They would have thought, who heard the strain, 85
They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids.
Amidst the festal sounding shades.
To some unwearied minstrel dancing,
While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings.
62 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Love fram'd with Mirth a gay fantastic round ; 9°
Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound,
And he, amidst his frolic play,
As if he would the charming air repay.
Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
O Music, sphere-descended maid, 95
Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid,
Why, goddess, why, to us deny'd,
Lay'st thou thy antient lyre aside ?
As in that lov'd Athenian bow'r
You learn'd an all-commanding pow'r, loo
Thy mimic soul, O nymph endear'd,
Can well recall what then it heard.
Where is thy native simple heart.
Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art ?
Arise as in that elder time, 105
Warm, energic, chaste, sublime I
Thy wonders, in that godlike age.
Fill thy recording sister's page —
'T is said, and I believe the tale,
Thy humblest reed could more prevail, no
Had more of strength, diviner rage,
Than all which charms this laggard age,
Ev'n all at once together found,
Cfficilia's mingled world of sound.
O bid our vain endeavours cease, i'5
Revive the just designs of Greece,
Return in all thy simple state,
Confirm the tales her sons relate !
LATER ODES.
ODE ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON.
The scene of the following stanzas is supposed to lie on the Thames,
near Richmond.
In yonder grave a druid lies,
Where slowly winds the stealing wave.
The year's best sweets shall duteous rise
To deck its poet's sylvan grave.
In yon deep bed of whisp'ring reeds S
His airy harp ^ shall now be laid,
That he whose heart in sorrow bleeds
May love thro' life the soothing shade.
Then maids and youths shall linger here ;
And while its sounds at distance swell, lo
Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear
To hear the Woodland Pilgrim's knell.
Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore
When Thames in summer wreaths is drest,
And oft suspend the dashing oar • 15
To bid his gentle spirit rest.
And oft as Ease_an.d_ Health retire
To breezy lawn, or forest deep.
The friend shall view yon whit'ning spire, ^
And mid the varied landscape weep_. 20
1 The harp of ^olus, of which see a description in The Castle of
Indolence. — C.
2 Richmond church. — C.
66 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
But thou who own'st that earthy bed,
Ah, what will ev'ry dirge avail,
Or tears which Love and Pity shed.
That mourn beneath the gliding sail ?
Yet lives there one whose heedless eye _ 25
Shall scorn thy pale shrine glimm'ring near ?
With him, sweet bard, may Fancy die.
And Joy desert the blooming year !
But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide
No sedge-crown 'd sister's now attend, 3°
Now waft me from the green hill's side
Whose cold turf hides the buried friend.
And see, the fairy^ valleys fade ;
) '\ ^Piin night has veil'd the solemn view.
Yet onqe again, dear parted shade, 35
,- ' Meelc Nature's child, again adieu !
The genial meads, assign'd to bless
Thy life, shall mourn thy early doom ;
Their hinds and shepherd girls shall dress
With simple hands thy rural torpb. 40
Long, long, thy stone and pointed clay
Shall melt the musing Briton's eygg ;
O vales and wild woods, shall he say,
In yonder grave your druid lies !
LATER ODES. 67
AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS OF
THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND,
CONSIDERED AS THE SUBJECT OF POETRY.
I.
H , thou return'st from Thames, whose naiads long
Have seen thee ling'ring, with a fond delay,
'Mid those soft friends, whose hearts, some future day,
Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song.
Go, not unmindful of that cordial youth 5
Whom, long-endear'd, thou leav'st by Lavant's side ;
Together let us wish him lasting truth,
And joy untainted, with his destined bride.
Go ! nor regardless, while these numbers boast
My short-liv'd bliss, forget my social name ; lo
But think far off how, on the Southern coast,
I met thy friendship with an equal flame I
Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, whose ev'ry vale
Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand :
To thee thy copious subjects ne'er shall fail ; 15
Thou need'st but take the pencil to thy hand,
And paint what all believe who own thy genial land.
II.
There must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill ;
'T is Fancy's land to which thou sett'st thy feet.
Where still, 't is said, the fairy people meet 20
Beneath each birken shade on mead or hill.
I. Home, thou return'st from Thames, whose naiads long
— Anon. ed.
13. Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, where ev'ry vale — Anon. ed.
16. Thou need'st but take thy pencil, to thy hand, — Anon. ed.
68 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
There each trim lass that skims the milky store
To the swart tribes their creamy bowl allots ;
By night they sip it round the cottage door,
While airy minstrels warble jocund notes. 25
There ev'ry herd, by sad experience, knows
How, wing'd with fate, their elf-shot arrows fly;
When the sick ewe her summer food foregoes.
Or, stretch'd on earth, the heart-smit heifers lie.
Such airy beings awe th' untutor'd swain : 30
Nor thou, thou learn'd, his homelier thoughts neglect ;
Let thy sweet Muse the rural faith sustain :
These are the themes of simple, sure effect.
That add new conquests to her boundless reign.
And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding strain. 35
III.
Ev'n yet preserv'd, how often may'st thou hear.
Where to the pole the boreal mountains run,
Taught by the father to his list'ning son.
Strange lays, whose pow'r had charm'd a Spenser's ear.
At ev'ry pause, before thy mind possest, 40
Old Runic bards shall seem to rise arou^,
With uncouth lyres, in many-colour'd vest,
Their matted hair with boughs fantastic crown'd :
Whether thou bid'st the well-taught hind repeat
The choral dirge that mourns some chieftain brave, 45
When ev'ry shrieking maid her bosom beat,
And strew'd with choicest herbs his scented grave ; "
Or whether, sitting in the shepherd's shiel.
Thou hear'st some sounding tale of war's alarms,**
When, at the bugle's call, with fire and steel, 5°
23. To the swart tribes their creamy bowls allots ; — Anon. ed.
44. Whether thou bid'st the well-taught hind relate — MS.
LATER ODES. 69
The sturdy clans pour'd forth their bony swarms,
And hostile brothers met to prove each other's arms.
IV.
'T is thine to sing, how, framing hideous spells,
In Sky's lone isle the gifted wizard seer,
Lodg'd in the wintry cave with [ ] 55
Or in the depth of Uist's dark forests dwells :
How they whose sight such dreary dreams engross,
With their own visions oft astonish'd droop,
When o'er the wat'ry strath or quaggy moss
They see the gliding ghosts unbodied troop ; 60
Or if in sports, or on the festive green.
Their [ ] glance some fated youth descry,
Who, now perhaps in lusty vigour seen
And rosy health, shall soon lamented die.
For them the viewless forms of air obey, 65
Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair.
They know what spirit brews the stormful day,
And, heartless, oft like moody madness stare
To see the phantom train their secret work prepare.
V.
[This stanza, comprising lines 70-86, was missing in
the manuscript.]
51. The sturdy clans pour'd forth their brawny swarms,
— Anon. ed.
55, 56. Lodg'd in the wintry cave with Fate's fell spear;
Or in the depth of Uist's dark forest dwells : — Anon. ed.
56. Or in the gloom of Uist's dark forests dwells : — MS.
58. With their own visions oft afflicted droop, — MS.
62. Their destin'd glance some fated youth descry, — Anon. ed.
66. Their bidding mark, and at their beck repair. — MS.
70-86. To monarchs dear, some hundred miles astray,
Oft have they seen Fate give the fatal blow !
The seer, in Sky, shriek'd as the blood did flow,
When headless Charles warm on the scaffold lay !
70 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
VI.
[The first eight lines of this stanza, lines 87-94 of the
poem, were missing in the manuscript.]
What tho' far off, from some dark dell espied, 95
His glimm'ring mazes cheer th' excursive sight,
Yet turn, ye wand'rers, turn your steps aside.
Nor trust the guidance of that faithless light ;
For, watchful, lurking 'mid th' unrustling reed.
At those mirk hours the wily monster lies, 100
And listens oft to hear the passing steed,
And frequent round him rolls his sullen eyes,
If chance his savage wrath may some weak wretch surprise.
As Boreas threw his young Aurora forth,
In the first year of the first George's reign,
And battles rag'd in welkin of the North,
They mourn'd in air, fell, fell Rebellion slain !
And as, of late, they joy'd in Preston's fight.
Saw at sad Falkirk all their hopes near crown'd,
They rav'd, divining, thro' their second sight.
Pale, red Culloden, where these hopes were drown'd !
Illustrious William! Britain's guardian name!
One William sav'd us from a tyrant's stroke ;
He, for a sceptre, gain'd heroic fame ;
But thou, more glorious. Slavery's chain hast broke,
To reign a private man, and bow to Freedom's yoke !
— Anon. ed.
87-94. These, \s>o, thou 'It sing ! for well thy magic Muse
Can to the topmost heav'n of grandeur soar!
Or stoop to wail the swain that is no more!
Ah, homely swains ! your homeward steps ne'er lose ;
Let not dank Will mislead you to the heath:
Dancing in mirky night, o'er fen and lake,
lie glows, to draw you downward to your death,
In his bewitch 'd, low, marshy willow brake ! — .^non. ed.
100. At those sad hours the wily monster lies, — MS.
LATER ODES. 71
VII.
Ah, luckless swain, o'er all unblest indeed !
Whom, late bewilder'd in the dank, dark fen, 105
Far from his flocks and smoking hamlet then,
To that sad spot [ ]
On him, enrag'd, the fiend, in angry mood.
Shall never look with Pity's kind concern,
But instant, furious, raise the whelming flood no
O'er its drown'd bank, forbidding all return.
Or, if he meditate his wish'd escape
To some dim hill that seems uprising near.
To his faint eye the grim and grisly shape.
In all its terrors clad, shall wild appear. 115
Meantime, the wat'ry surge shall round him rise,
Pour'd sudden forth from ev'ry swelling source.
What now remains but tears and hopeless sighs?
His fear-shook limbs have lost their youthly force,
And down the waves he floats, a pale and breathless
corse. 120
VIII.
For him, in vain, his anxious wife shall v>ait,
Or wander forth to meet him on his way;
For him, in vain, at to-fall of the day.
His babes shall linger at th' unclosing gate.
Ah, ne'er shall he return ! Alone, if night 125
Her travell'd limbs in broken slumbers steep.
With dropping willows drest, his mournful sprite
Shall visit sad, perchance, her silent sleep :
107. To that sad spot where hums the sedgy weed : — Anon. ed.
III. O'er its drown'd banks, forbidding all return. — Anon. ed.
124. His babes shall linger at the cottage gate. — MS.
127. With drooping willows drest, his mournful sptite — Anon. ed.
72 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Then he, perhaps, with moist and wat'ry hand,
Shall fondly seem to press her shudd'ring cheek, 130
And with his blue-swoln face before her stand,
And, shiv'ring cold, these piteous accents speak :
" Pursue, dear wife, thy daily toils pursue
At dawn or dusk, industrious as before ;
Nor e'er of me one hapless thought renew, 135
While I lie welt'ring on the ozier'd shore,
Drown 'd by the kaelpie's wrath, nor e'er shall aid thee
more ! "
IX.
Unbounded is thy range ; with varied stile
Thy Muse may, like those feath'ry tribes which spring
From their rude rocks, extend her skirting wing 140
Round the moist marge of each cold Hebrid isle,
To that hoar pile which still its ruin shows :
In whose small vaults a pigmy-folk is found,
Whose bones the delver with his spade upthrows.
And culls them, wond'ring, from the hallow'd ground ! MS
Or thither, where, beneath the show'ry West,
The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid :
Once foes, perhaps, together now they rest ;
No slaves revere them, and no wars invade :
Yet frequent now, at midnight's solemn hour, 150
The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold,
And forth the monarchs stalk with sov'reign pow'r.
In pageant robes, and wreath'd with sheeny gold.
And on their twilight tombs aerial council hold.
130. Shall seem to press her cold and shudd'ring cheek, — MS.
133. " Proceed, dear wife, thy daily toils pursue " — MS.
135. Nor e'er of me one helpless thought renew, — Anon. ed.
138. Unbounded is thy range; with varied skill — Anon. ed.
150. Yet frequent now at midnight solemn hour, — Anon. ed.
LATER ODES. 73
X.
But O, o'er all, forget not Kilda's race, 155
On whose bleak rocks, which brave the wasting tides,
Fair Nature's daughter. Virtue, yet abides.
Go, just as they, their blameless manners trace !
Then to my ear transmit some gentle song
Of those whose lives are yet sincere and plain, 160
Their bounded walks the rugged cliffs along,
And all their prospect but the wintry main.
With sparing temp'rance, at the needful time,
They drain the sainted spring, or, hunger-prest,
Along th' Atlantic rock undreading climb, 165
And of its eggs despoil the solan's nest.
Thus blest in primal innocence they live,
Suffic'd and happy with that frugal fare
Which tasteful toil and hourly danger give.
Hard is their shallow soil, and bleak and bare ; 170
Nor ever vernal bee was heard to murmur there !
XL
Nor need'st thou blush, that such false themes engage
Thy gentle mind, of fairer stores possest ;
For not alone they touch the village breast,
But fill'd in elder time th' historic page. 175
There Shakespear's self, with ev'ry garland crown'd,
[ . . _ ]
In musing hour, his wayward Sisters found.
And with their terrors drest the magic scene.
From them he sung when, 'mid his bold design, 180
164. They drain the scented spring, or, hunger-prest,
— Anon. ed.
177, 178. Flew to those fairy climes his fancy sheen,
In musing hour ; his wayward Sisters found, — Anon. ed.
74 POEMS OF WILLIAM COLLINS.
Before the Scot afflicted and aghast,
The shadowy kings of Banquo's fated line
Thro' the dark cave in gleamy pageant past.
Proceed, nor quit the tales which, simply told,
Could once so well my answ'ring bosom pierce ; 185,
Proceed ! in forceful sounds and colours boldj
The native legends of thy land rehearse \
To such adapt thy lyre and suit thy pow'rful verse.
XII.
In scenes like these, which, daring to depart
From sober truth, are still to nature true, 190
And call forth fresh delight to Fancy's view,
Th' heroic muse employ'd her Tasso's art !
How have I trembled, when, at Tancred's stroke,
Its gushing blood the gaping cypress pour'd ;
When each live plant with mortal accents spoke, '95
And the wild blast upheav'd the vanish'd sword !
How have I sat, when pip'd the pensive wind.
To hear his harp, by British Fairfax strung.
Prevailing poet, whose undoubting mind
Believ'd the magic wonders which he sung ! 200
Hence at each sound imagination glows;
[ ]
Hence his warm lay with softest sweetness flows ;
186. Proceed 1 in forceful sounds and colour bold, — Anon. ed.
193-196. How have I trembled, when, at Tancred's side,
Like him I stalk'd, and all his passions felt;
When, charm'd by Ismen, thro' the forest wide,
Bark'd in each plant, a talking spirit dwelt! — MS.
201-205. Hence, sure to charm, his early numbers flow,
Tho' faithful, sweet ; tho' strong, of simple kind.
Hence, with each theme, he bids the bosom glow,
While his warm lays an easy passage find,
Pour'd thro' each inmost nerve, and lull th' harmonious
ear. — MS.
LATER ODES. 75
Melting it flows, pure, num'rous, strong, and clear,
And fills th' impassion'd heart, and wins th' harmoni-
ous ear. 205
XIII.
All hail, ye scenes that o'er my soul prevail,
Ye [ ] friths and lakes which, far away,
Are by smooth Annan fill'd, or past'ral Tay,
Or Don's romantic springs ; at distance, hail !
The time shall come when I, perhaps, may tread 210
Your lowly glens, o'erhung with spreading broom.
Or o'er your stretching heaths by fancy led :
[ _ ]
Then will I dress once more the faded bow'r.
Where Jonson sat in Drummond's [ ] shade, 215
Or crop from Tiviot's dale each [ ]
And mourn on Yarrow's banks [ ]
Meantime, ye Pow'rs that on the plains which bore
The cordial youth, on Lothian's plains, attend.
Where'er he dwell, on hill or lowly muir, 220
To him I lose your kind protection lend.
And, touch'd with love like mine, preserve my absent
friend !
202. Tho' strong, yet sweet — MS.
202. Hence, at each picture, vivid life starts here ! — • Anon. ed.
204. Melting it flows, pure, murm'ring, strong, and clear,
— Anon. ed.
207. Ye splendid friths and lakes which, far away,
— Anon. ed.
213. Or o'er your mountains creep, in awful gloom !
— Anon.ed.
215-217. Where Jonson sat in Drummond's classic shade ;
Or crop from Tiviotdale each lyric flow'r,
And mourn, on Yarrow's banks, where Willy 's laid !
— Anon. ed.
220. Where'er Home dwells, on hill or lowly moor, — Anon.ed.
NOTES.
3]
N O T E S.i
TO MISS AURELIA C R. (3)
This is probably CoUins's earliest printed poem.^ It appeared in
The Gentleman's Magazine for January, 1739, over the signature
" Amasius." That Collins was the author is affirmed in a sketch of
his life in Fawkes and Woty's Poetical Caletidar, December, 1763, and
in Johnson's Life of Collins. Other poems by " Amasius " appeared in
The Gentleman' s Magazine in 1739, 1740, 1741, and 1743 ; but they are
so poor that Collins can hardly have written them, as a sample will
show :
Assisted by the telescope,
Yon miglity orbs survey,
How regular they whirl around
The planetary way !
SONNET. (3)
These lines, after the fashion of the day loosely styled a sonnet,
were published in The Gentleman's Magazine for October, 1739, and
signed " Delicatulus." They are attributed to Collins by Joseph
Warton. " In a magazine \_The Gentlema7i''s Magazine, where the three
poems mentioned are printed together] I find the following memo-
randum, in Dr. Warton's hand-writing: — 'P. 545. Sappho'' s Advice
was written by me, then at Winchester school ; the next by Tomkyns ;
and the sonnet by Collins. J. Warton.' " — John Wooll, in his Memoirs
of Warton, London, 1806, p. 107. The poem was noticed in the next
issue of the magazine in a letter to the editor which Wooll says was
written by Johnson (although Chalmers, in his sketch of Warton's life
in his English Poets, says W' ooll was mistaken) : " The least, which is a
1 The figures in parenthesis after the titles of the poems, and the figures in
brackets at the tops of the pages, refer to pages of the text.
2 For reference to an earlier poem, perhaps by him, see Introduction, p. xiii.
80 NOTES. [3
favorite of mine, carries a force mixed with tenderness, and an uncom-
mon elevation." A good deal of allowance must be made for the fact
that this letter was written, as its last paragraph shows, to puff the
magazine ; but the praise of Collins's poem, although too serious for
such a trifle (coming from Johnson it reminds one of an elephant toying
with a comfit), seems less perfunctory than the rest of the letter and
may have helped to draw the two men together a few years later.
I. wanton = //a)y«/ ; '^&x\^2l^% coquettish here.
SONG. (3)
The authenticity of this poem is doubtful. It was printed anony-
mously in The Public Advertiser, London, March 7, 1788, where the
present editor stumbled upon it recently; whether it had appeared
earlier is uncertain. It was printed among Collins's poems in Johnson's
English Poets, 1790, in Anderson's Poets of Great Britain, 1794, and in
Chalmers's English Poets, 1810. It was not contained in Park's British
Poets, 1805, but apparently was added in a later edition. "Mr. Park
(who inserted it on an additional leaf) observes to me that he has now
forgotten on what authority he gave it as the production of Collins,
but that he must have been satisfied of its genuineness at the time he
reprinted it, else he would not have done so." — Dyce, in his edition of
Collins, London and Oxford, 1827, p. 208. The Aldine Collins (Lon-
don, 1894, p. loi) has the following note : "A manuscript copy in the
collection recently belonging to I^r. Upcott, and now in the British
Museum, is headed, ' Written by Collins when at Winchester School.
From a Manuscript.' " A recent search at the British Museum by the
present editor failed to discover any trace of such a manuscript.
A comparison with the following lines from Ophelia's song {Hamlet,
iv, 5) will show how far " the sentiments " are " borrowed from Shake-
spear " :
He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone ;
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.
White his shroud as the mountain snow.
Larded with sweet flowers ;
Which bewept to the grave did go
With true-love showers.
3-5] NOTES. 81
They bore him barefaced on the bier ;
And in his grave rain'd many a tear.
And will he not come again ?
And will he not come again ?
No, no, he is dead :
Go to thy death-bed :
He never will come again.
2. lowland seems to have been the earlier reading {The Public
Advertiser, 1788 ; Anderson's Poets of Great Britain, 1794) ; certainly
it is the better : the lowliness of the hamlets is not relevant, while the
fact that they are " lowland," in the " vale" where Damon was known
and loved, is relevant.
18. who lov'd is less obvious than belov''d (for which there seems to
be no authority except that cited in the footnote), and it adds an active
element to the character of Damon, who would otherwise be wholly
passive, a mere target for affection.
VERSES WRITTEN ON A PAPER, ETC. (4)
On what evidence this poem was ascribed to Collins does not appear.
It is clearly in his manner. It was published, apparently for the first
time, along with several other of Collins's poems in Pearch's Collection
of Poems (London, 3d ed., 1775, vol. II). In the present edition it is
placed among the early poems wholly on internal evidence. It seems
to belong to the days of the poet's younger and mildly amorous muse ;
but it shows more maturity of manner than the first two poems, and
may have been written, in an idle hour, as late as the earlier odes.
6. shepherd's, i.e., the poet's.
haunted, i.e., by " flattering dreams " ; see 1. 22.
19. Cf. Paradise Lost, iv, 310, 311 :
With coy submission, modest pride,
And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.
22, 24. his refers to shepherd''s, 1. 6.
82 NOTES. [6
A SONG FROM SHAKESPEAR'S CYMBELINE. (6)
This song was published in 1744, in the same folio with the Epistle
to Sir Thomas Hanmer ; see p. Ixxx. In October, 1749, it was re-
printed, with changes, in The Gentleman's Magazine. In Nichols's Lit-
erary Anecdotes (London, 181 2, vol. V, p. 53), is preserved the following
reminiscence by Sir John Hawkins :
" I remember that, calling in on him [Cave, proprietor of The Gentleman' s
Magazine^ once, he gave me to read the beautiful poem of Collins, written for
Shakspeare's Cymbcline, ' To fair Fidele"s grassy tomb,' which, though adapted
to a particular circumstance in the play, Cave was for inserting in his magazine
without any reference to the subject. 1 told him it would lose of its beauty if it
were so published: this he could not see ; nor could he be convinced of the pro-
priety of the name Fidele: he thought Past or a a better, and so printed it."
The other changes, also, were doubtless unauthorized; and, as a bit
of literary history illustrating the prevailing carelessness and lack of
conscience in such matters then, it is worth while to give the entire list:
Title, Elegiac Song; i. Pastora's ; 7. swains for lads; 11. But for
The (repeating the sentence-structure of the preceding stanza); 12.
bed iox grave ; 17. chiding ior howling; 18. tempest for tempests; 19.
flocks for chace (still further obliterating the poem's relation to Cym-
beline : Guiderius and Arviragus were hunters, not shepherds) ; 21.
lovely for lonely ; 23. can for could (Collins's thought was, ' Beloved
to extreme old age, when life could have charmed no more even if it
had been continued').
The misspelling of " Guiderius " may have been a printer's error, but
very likely it was one of Collins's careless slips.
The atmosphere of tender grace pervading the poem is peculiarly
Collins's own ; but a comparison with Cymbcline, iv, 2, shows that
the inspiration of the lines was a fine sympathy with the spirit of
Shakspere's scene as a whole, although the likeness between the two
songs is slight. Dyce compares 1. 5 with Cymbeline, iv, 2, 278 : Ghost
unlaid forbear thee ; 1. 9 with 277 : Nor no witchcraft charm thee ; 1. 1 1
with 217 : With female fairies will his tomb be haunted ; stanza 4 with
224-229 :
the ruddock would.
With charitable bill, — O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a monument I — bring thee all this ;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none,
To winter-ground thy corse.
6,7] NOTES. 83
Compare also, for their spirit of delicate love, lines 21S-224 with the
poem as a whole :
With fairest flowers
While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
I '11 sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack
The flower that 's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell, like thy veins, no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath.
4. breathing spring. Dyce compares Pope's Messiah, 24 :
With all the incense of the breathing spring.
ORIENTAL ECLOGUES. (7)
The Eclogues were first published in January, 1742 (see The Gentle-
nia7i's Magazine, January, 1742, register of books), with the title, Per-
sian Eclogues (see p. Ixxix). Eive hundred copies were printed : " Mr.
Andrew Millar, Dr. Dec. 10, 1741. Persian Eclogues, lyi shts., No.
500. Reprinting ^ sht." — Ledger of Woodfall, the printer, from
Notes and Queries, ist series, vol. XI, p. 419. \\\ January, 1757 (see
The Gentleman's Magazine, January, 1757, register of books), a second
edition, considerably revised, with the title of Oriental Eclogues,
appeared (see p. Ixxxi).
" Mr. Collins wrote his eclogues when he was about seventeen years old, at
Winchester school, and, as I well remember, had just been reading that volume
of Salmon's Modern History which described Persia ; which determined him to
lay the scene of these pieces [there], as Iseing productive of new images and senti-
ments. In his maturer years he was accustomed to speak very contemptuously
of them, calling them his Irish Eclogues, and saying they had not in them one
spark of Orientalism : and desiring me to erase a motto he had prefixed to tliem
in a copy he gave me; — quos primus equis oriens afflavit anhelis. Virg. He
was greatly mortified that they found more readers and admirers tlian his odes."
— Joseph Warton, in his edition of Pope, London, 1797, vol. I, p. 61.
The statement about the motto is inconsistent with what Warton
wrote in the copy given to him by Collins (see p. Ixxix) ; either Wharton's
memory was at fault, or Collins gave him another copy in early years.
The motto is not the entire line [Georgics, i, 250), nosque being
omitted before tihi. Collins originally wrote quos instead of nosque
84 NOTES. [7-1]
ubi; this may perhaps indicate that he had forgotten the context and
took the line as a designation of the Orientals, those on whom the
sun shines first in its progress westward; but it is more likely that he
meant to ignore the context and let the words be taken to mean what
they appear to mean when standing alone.
In the 1742 edition the following lines from Cicero's Oration for the
Poet Archias preceded the Preface: Quod si non hie tantus fructus
ostenderetur, et si ex his studiis delectatio sola peteretur; tamen, ut
opinor, hanc animi remissionem humanissimam ac liberalissimam judi-
caretis.
The following passage from Salmon's Modern History evidently
suggested to Collins much of what is said or implied in the Preface and
Eclogue the First about Persian poets and poetry :
"Ever>' great man has a poet in his family, and no entertainment is complete
unless a poet be there to oblige the company with his compositions. There are
many of them who frequent the coffee houses, and publick places of resort, where
they repeat their poems to the audience. . . . The King himself entertains
several as his domesticks. . . . The subject of their poems is generally some
piece of morality, or philosophy. . . . One method which the antients took to
preserve the memory of their great actions, was to make them the subject of their
songs, and sing them in their assemblies, and at their festivals, as is the custom
in Persia at this day. . . . The thoughts are noble and elevated, th|ir expres-
sions soft ; . . . their allusions are delicate, and abundance of hyperbole you
must exjDCCt in all their figures. Love is sometimes the subject of their poems,
as well as morality and history ; but nothing immodest ... is ever the subject
of their verse." — Modern History : or, the Present State of All Nations, by
Thomas Salmon, London, 1744, 3d ed., vol. I, p. ■^yj.
For the reference in the Preface to Hosseyn, see pp. 89, 90.
ECLOGUE THE FIRST. (11)
The selection of morning as the time for giving all this good advice
to " the fair and young " is arbitrary, unless there be an allusion to the
threadbare figure of youth as the morning of life.
6. This sentiment must have met with the approval of Johnson; it
is akin to the theme of his Rasselas.
12, The line contravenes a poetic commonplace of the age, accord-
ing to which rural life was credited with superior virtues as well as
superior happiness. Cf. Gray's Elegy, Goldsmith's Deserted Village,
11-13] NOTES. 85
and Collins's own Ode on the Popular Superstitiois of the Highlands of
Scotland, stanza lo.
13. The readings of the text of 1742 show what difficulty Collins
had in keeping himself in Persia ; he came back to Europe in Eastern
and od'rous. Cf. 1. 69, the earlier reading.
17. Tigris'. Bagdat, on the Tigris, long a bone of contention
between Persia and Turkey, was retaken by Abbas the Great before the
time when the Eclogues are supposed to have been written ; the refer-
ence is therefore in keeping with the fiction. Cf. maids of Bagdat,
1. 70.
19. The correction oi ye to yon, here and in 11. 21, 25, 49, is made in
Collins's handwriting in the copy of the Persian Eclogues given by him
to J. Warton.
23-25. The thought is obscure and awkwardly expressed. Appar-
ently the meaning is that the Persian maids have eyes like the morning
and flower-like beauty, which inspire love.
23. loves supplies. An instance of what Johnson meant, in his
censure of Collins's verse, by lines " clogged and impeded with clusters
of consonants."
32. A comparison with the earlier reading is rather amusing ; the
poet's opinion of pearls seems to have changed in the interval.
33-36. The balanced sentence-structure and the antithesis show the
influence of the prevailing fashion in verse upon Collins's early manner.
37, 38. A couplet much in the neat style of Pope.
46. Immortal Truth. The improvement upon the earlier reading
is manifest. Truth is here male, and therefore fiir-ey^d is scarcely
appropriate ; certainly it is weaker than immortal.
47. fair maids ! ye Virtues. The daughters of Truth and Wisdom.
come away ! i.e., to Persia, and bring the Golden Age again.
51-68. The conception of a train of personified virtues accompany-
ing Modesty is manifestly borrowed from L' Allegro and // Penseroso,
where Mirth and Melancholy are similarly attended.
53. An awkward inversion for the sake of a rhyme.
53, 54. In the text of 1742 these lines greatly needed revision. The
first line had only two significant words, come and Modesty ; O and
thou were there expletives, and as they decree merely repeated so the Fates
ordaifi of 1. 51. The second line contained an unnatural and stale con-
ceit, and diverted attention from the maids of Bagdat to the effect of
the coming Golden Age upon the complexion of roses.
57-62. The description of Chastity is not a success. We do not
like this Chastity; she is too suspicious and self-conscious by half.
86 NOTES. [13, 14
59, 6o. " In some parts of the East, antelopes are taken by hawks,
trained purposely to take them." — Critical Essays, by John Scott,
London, 1785, p. 163.
64. Faith, i.e., Fidelity.
65. desponding seems too strong a word ; the idea, apparently, is
the negative one of freedom from over-confidence.
down-cast eyes. Cf . // Penseroso, 43 :
With a sad leaden downward cast.
70. One very much doubts whether the maids of Bagdat would do
any such eighteenth-century-English thing as ' verify a lay.' In these
Eclogues Collins was putting new wine into old bottles, and frequently
the wine smacks of the bottle.
72. song is the object of bless''d only.
ECLOGUE THE SECOND. (14) ,
The appropriateness of mid-day for this desert-picture is obvious.
I. boundless. By this change from the earlier text Collins at once
removed a tautology {desart waste), and helped the reader to realize the
immensity of the desert.
6. Mitford (in Dyce's Collins) compares Marlowe's Hero and Lcander,
sestiad ii, 1 1 :
Her painted fan of curled plumes let fall.
15, 16. It is incredible that a Persian, especially one competent to
drive camels, should not have thought of the danger of winds, thirst,
and hunger in the desert. The improbability is of consequence only
because it lessens our sympathy with Hassan by lessening our sense of
even an imaginative reality in the whole situation.
17. The personification seems unnatural here. Would not Hassan
be much more likely to think of thirst as too inextricably a part of him-
self.'* An abstract Thirst, stalking the desert in search of an oasis,
would hardly have troubled him. Contrast Shelley's Revolt of Islam,
canto iii, stanza 31 :
Thirst raged within me, like a scorpion's nest
Built in mine entrails.
14-16] NOTES. 87
20. A feeble conclusion. Not " tears and hunger," but death by
slow torture, and bones bleaching on the sands, would be the pictures
before Hassan's affrighted imagination.
21-28. As a delightful specimen of old-fashioned criticism the com-
ment of Langhorne is worth reading :
" It is difficult to say whether his apostrophe to the " mute companions of his
toils ' is more to be admired for the elegance and beauty of the poetical imagery,
or for the tenderness and humanity of the sentiment. He who can read it with-
out being affected will do his heart no injustice if he concludes it to be destitute
of sensibility." — Langhorne's Collins^ London, 1765, p. 119.
Lines 23-26 are certainly pretty; rather too pretty to be spoken by
a " wild " and " affrighted " man, in danger of death, talking to camels
in a desert. But of course the poem does not aim at strict realism ;
and, further, Hassan may be thought of as half forgetting, for a
moment, the horror of the present scene while recalling the " green
delights " which he has foolishly left behind. Lines 27, 28, in which
his thoughts return to the desert, deserve Campbell's praise : " He does
not merely seem to describe the sultry desert, but brings it home to the
senses." — Campbell's Specitnens of (he British Poets, London, 1819,
vol. V, p. 310.
25. green delights. Dyce compares Thomson's Sunimet-, 956 :
And all the green delights Ausonia pours;
and Euripides's Bacchae, 866, 867 :
xXoepais . . . XeifxaKOS ijdovais.
38. A bungling line : thee refers to money (1. 35) by a very abrupt
change from the third person to the second ; only goes with thee ; yet
apparently means still, after all, as so often in Elizabethan English.
40. fond =^ foolish.
52. One of the most imaginative bits in the Eclogues. Cf. the scene
in Rohijison Crusoe where Crusoe comes upon the footprint in the sand.
54. A piece of conventional imagery, made worse by contrast with
the vigorous lines that follow.
56. " In Hyrcania and Curdistan, the woody parts of the country,
wild beasts abound, such as lions, tygers, leopards, wild-hogs, jackalls,
etc." — Salmon, vol. I, p. 334.
61, 63. "That part of the country which lies upon the Caspian and
Hyrcanian sea is full of serpents, toads, scorpions, and other venomous
insects." — Salmon, vol. I, p. 334.
88 NOTES. [16, 17
66. Dyce compares Pope's Epistle to Robert, Earl of Oxford, 26 :
The lust of lucre and the dread of death.
71, 72. The punctuation in the Aldine Collins (a period after w^«,
no mark after Zara) changes the sense. Both original editions have
commas after won and Zara, indicating that she is the subject of will be
undone, and Zara in apposition with s/ie ; while love is the subject, not the
object, of won, which has for object "whom" understood. The orig-
inal punctuation makes the better sense : it is rather because Zara loves
Hassan, than because he loves her, that she will be undone by his death.
73. own'd the powerful maid, i.e., acknowledged the power of the
maid.
ECLOGUE THE THIRD. (17)
The source of the motif in this eclogue is unknown. It is of course
possible that Collins invented the story. Some have thought that he
got the hint from a Persian tale printed in The Free Thinker, in 1 7 1 9
(reprinted in Nathan Drake's Gleaner, London, 181 1, vol. I, p. 272),
but the resemblance is not very close. Cha-Abbas, king of Persia,
took a great fancy to a shepherd lad, Alibez, whom he met on his
travels. Alibez went to court, and finally became keeper of the royal
jewels. But he still longed for the pastoral life and once revisited his
early home. Under the next king he fell into disfavor and was ordered
to give an account of his stewardship. Accordingly, he opened every-
thing to inspection except one iron door. When this was forced open,
nothing was found but "a sheep-hook, a pipe, and a shepherd's habit,
which Alibez had worn, all of which he often took a pleasure in visiting
privately, to remind him of his former condition."
There is no natural connection between the tale and evening.
Apparently for this reason Collins wrote the introductory lines, which,
though graceful, have no necessary relation to the story.
I. Georgia's land. In the days of the Great Abbas, Georgia was a
province of Persia.
TefQis'. Tefflis, or Tiflis, the capital of Georgia, is situated in a
plain; cf. lezrl green, 1. 2.
5, 6. These lines were added in the revised edition, no doubt to give
a more distinctively Eastern setting, and perhaps also to lengthen the
introductory passage, which, without them, is abrupt and manifestly a
17-21] NOTES. 89
mere introduction ; the added lines do much to make the prelude a
pleasing and restful picture in itself.
17-19. "About Ispahan and some other towns jonquils grow wild :
they have also daffodils, lilies, violets, and pinks in their season . . . ;
but what they have the greatest quantity of are lilies and roses." —
Salmon, vol. I, p. 332.
21. Collins doubtless had in mind the historical "Great Abbas,"
during whose long reign (15S6-162S) the Persian Empire grew rapidly
in extent and power; cf. 1. 68 and the preface to the Eclogues. The
real Abbas, however, was not at all the amiable innocent of the eclogue,
but a cruel though able king, who put his eldest son to death.
" Shah Abbas enlarged the empire on every side ; ... he encouraged all arts
and sciences ; ... he was also so severe against those who are guilty of the least
fraud, that he ordered a cook to be roasted alive, and a baker to be baked in his
own oven, for keeping of false weights. But with all his virtues I find Shah
Abbas generally charged with cruelty, especially towards his son." — Salmon,
vol. I, p. 343.
31. Mitford (in Dyce's Collins) compares Marlowe's Hero and
Leander, sestiad ii, 5 :
Yet as she went, full often looked behind.
And Dyce compares Cowley's Coitntry Life, 17-22 :
Unwillingly, and slow, and discontent.
From his lov'd cottage to a throne he went.
And oft he stopt in his triumphant way,
And oft look'd back, and oft was heard to say,
Not without sighs, Alas, I there forsake
A happier kingdom than I go to take !
ECLOGUE THE FOURTH. (19)
The sense of midnight is limited to the beginning and end of the
poem ; there, however, it makes an effective setting for the dialogue.
I. Circassia, in the days of Hossein, was one of the northern prov-
inces of Persia, lying on both sides of the Caucasian mountains.
28. Uyce compares the Georgics, ii, 404:
Frigidus et silvis aquilo decussit honorem.
32-38. Collins got the material for these lines from Salmon. " Sultan
Hossein succeeded his father. Sultan Solyman, anno 1694. This prince
90 NOTES. [31-23
chose to live an indolent, unactive life among his women in the haram."
The consequent misrule of his ministers stirred up to revolt, after some
years, Merewys, who " commanded four or five hundred tents on the
utmost boundary of the Persian Empire towards Usbeck Tartary." He
called in Tartars, Turks, and Muscovites, who, in the license of war,
overran Circassia and other provinces for their own advantage. " The
Muscovites surprised Derbent and Tarki [cf. 1. 45], which lay next them
on the west side of the Caspian Sea. . . . The Persian ministry were
now in the utmost consternation. . . . They came, however, to this
resolution at length, to let the frontiers shift for themselves." — Salmon,
vol. I, pp. 318, 319. The capital of Persia was captured by the insur-
gents in 1722, and the shah was forced to abdicate. In 1. 38 Collins
evidently sacrificed history to pathos, or else wished the reader to see
the situation as Secander saw it.
49. tents. Seats, in the text of 1742, was evidently a typographical
error ; it is corrected in CoUins's handwriting in the copy of the Eclogues
which he gave to Joseph Warton.
51. date. Dale was corrected in the same way.
56. Uyce compares Pope's Translation of the Iliad, xviii, 50:
And the blue languish of soft Alia's eye.
The ingenuous Langhorne comments delightfully as follows :
" There is, certainly, some very powerful charm in the liquid melody of sounds.
The editor of these poems could never read or hear the following verse repeated
without a degree of pleasure otherwise entirely unaccountable : ' Their eyes' bhie
la7igieauniont, wrote many plays during the first quarter of
the seventeenth century.
58. next in order. Jonson's first extant play was acted in 1598;
Beaumont and Fletcher's earliest known drama was printed in 1607.
63. In his note Collins evidently alludes to this sentence in Dryden's
Essay of Dramatic Poesy (the Scott-Saintsbury Dry den, London, 1892,
28] NOTES. 93
vol. XV, p. 346) : " They [Beaumont and Fletcher] represented all
the passions very lively, but above all, love." In Collins's note, their
apparently does not refer to Beaumont and Fletcher, since only Fletcher
has been mentioned, but to Fletcher and Shakspere. Dryden, however,
nowhere characterizes Shakspere after the fashion of 1. 64.
64. This is a hard saying. It seems almost incredible that Collins, who
found in Shakspere the inspiration for his delicate song about Fidele,
could have meant what he seems to mean. But there 'is no escape.
The obvious sense of the line is confirmed by rtider passions, 1. 65, and
still more by the fact that throughout the poem Collins alludes to male
characters only except for a necessary incidental reference to the mother
of Coriolanus. This curious verdict shows the tyranny of the age over
the individual. It resulted from a survival of the Restoration ideals of
gallantry and sentiment, which found Shakspere inferior to the more
courtly Beaumont and Fletcher in the portrayal of woman and man's
relation to her. Hence, in part, came the greater popularity of the
latter's plays on the Restoration stage, and hence, too, the necessity
which Diyden and his fellows felt, when revamping Shakspere, to
" write-up " the love scenes. It should be noted, however, that Collins
is praising Shakspere ; and therefore the line should not be taken to
mean that Shakspere had absolutely no feeling for woman, — strange
praise for a dramatist, — but only that his chief interest was in those
" ruder passions " which are characteristic rather of men than of women
and are the staple of great tragedy. An opinion curiously like this is
expressed by Joseph Warton in an article on King Lear, in The Adven-
turer, in 1754. (See No. 113 ; and the footnote to No. 140, in which
the article is ascribed to Warton.) Warton says : " One of the most
remarkable differences betwixt ancient and modern tragedy, arises from
the prevailing custom of describing only those distresses that are occa-
sioned by the passion of love. . . . Shakespeare has shown us, by his
Hamlet, Macbeth, and Caesar, and above all by his Lear, that very inter-
esting tragedies may be written, that are not founded on gallantry
and love." The two friends may have discussed the matter together in
university days ; and if Collins shared Warton's opinion that the con-
temporary drama was enervated by excess of sentiment, it becomes
easier to understand why he laid such exclusive emphasis upon Shak-
spere's delineation of the " ruder passions " of " man alone." Cf. the
slighting reference to love as a predominant motive in poetry, in 1. 42
and in the Ode to Simplicity, 37-39.
67-74. " Collins, dans cette epitre a Hanmer, parle de la poesie fran-
9aise, de I'art dramatique fran9ais et de ses deux illustres representants
94 NOTES. [28,29
avec infiniment plus de mesure que Dryden, plus de sympathie sincere
qu' Addison, et plus de justesse que Pope." — Emile Montegut, Heures
de Lecture cTun Critique, Paris, 1891, p. 177.
67. The French drama reached its highest development about half
a century later than the English.
Hardy, referred to in Collins's note, was bom in 1560 and died in
1631.
71. Corneille, the greatest of the French dramatists, was bom in
1606 and died in 1684.
Lucan's spirit. Lucan, the Roman poet (a.d. 39-65), wrote the
Pharsalia, an epic on the war between Caesar and Pompey. His style,
although uneven and bombastic, is energetic and occasionally sublime,
and had a strong influence upon the style of Corneille.
72. The earlier reading is the better. Full expression and Roman
thought characterize well the amplitude of language and Roman-like
hardihood of spirit in Corneille's best tragedies; whereas breath" d the
free strain is conventional and vague, and he inspired merely repeats
with Lucan's spirit fir''d.
73. Racine (1639-1699), less bold and energetic than Corneille, was a
more even and polished writer. The reason for not mentioning Moli^re
probably is that his plays are not so good examples of that " correct "
form which Collins is affirming to be a characteristic of the French
drama.
74. chaster than Lucan ; although it may mean merely very chaste.
75-78. The lines express the common view of Shakspere in Collins's
day, that he was an irregular genius, lacking art, but unequalled in vivid
naturalness ; see Pope's and Johnson's prefaces to Shakspere.
78. Th' historian's truth. The emphasis is upon the lifelikeness,
not upon the accuracy. The second half of the line is a variant expres-
sion of the same thought.
manners. " By manners I mean whatever marks the characters of
the persons." — Thomas Twining's translation (1789) of Aristotle's
Poetics. Cf. The Manners, 41-52.
81. Henry's. The allusion is to Henry V.
83. Edward. Edward V, murdered with his brother in the Tower
by his uncle, afterwards Richard HI.
85. infant. This is poetical exaggeration ; Edward was a lad.
87. The line from Vergil {Aeneid, x, 503) is quoted incorrectly ; it
should begin, Turno tenipus. Tumus, king of the Rutuli, at war with
the Trojans in Italy, has just killed Pallas and despoiled him of his
belt inlaid with gold ; and the line contains the prophecy, fulfilled by
29-31] NOTES. 95
the subsequent death of Pallas at the hand of Aeneas, that " Turnus will
see the day when he would give a great sum to have let Pallas alone."
89, 90. See King Richa7-d the Third, v, 3, 1 18-176.
95-100. The lines seem to refer, not to particular plays separate one
from another, but to an Arcadie composed of features borrowed from
all the idyllic plays. Collins was indulging in a species of poetical
landscape gardening. Most of the elements, however, may be traced
to their sources : 1. 97 suggests As You Like It and The Winter's Tale ;
I. 98, A Alidsunimer-Nighi's Dream, although the fairies met by moon-
light, not twilight ; 1. 100, The l^etnpest, although the time was August,
not spring.
104. songs =^poetry. There would be no propriety here in a special
reference to the songs in the plays.
107, 108. Cf. Ode to Pity, 31-36.
108. Picture was formerly used as an abstract noun, where " Paint-
ing " would be used now.
115, 121. It is singular that, with all Shakspere to choose from,
Collins should select the subjects for both pictures from the Roman
plays.
121. CoUins's note evidently refers to this passage in Spence's
Dialogues :
" And certainly what makes so beautiful a figure in the finest poets might
deserve the imitation of the best painters. ... If our Shakespear can give us
the struggle of passions in the breast of Coriolanus, Wall might trace the same,
and speak them as well with his pencil.'' — An Essay on Mr. Popds Odyssey,
in Five Dialogues, by Mr. Spence, Professor of Poetry in the University of
Oxford, London, 1737, p. 81.
126. destin'd, i.e., by Coriolanus to suffer the fury of war; cf.
II. 123, 124 in the text of 1743.
127, 128. The lines are not quite true to the spirit of Shakspere's
scene. Volumnia, a genuine Roman matron, is reserved and proud ;
she kneels, but as one who knows there is compulsion in her supplica-
tion (see Coriolanus, v, 3). The earlier text was still farther from the
truth.
137. Cf. Aefteid, iii, 445-451 ; and vi, 75, rapidis ludibria ventis.
139. no farther toil demand. These words are the perfection of
unconscious irony.
140. just to nature, i.e., restored to their original, natural condition.
145. some former Hanmer. Collins must have known that, accord-
ing to ancient tradition, Pisistratus, the tyrant of Athens, was the one
96 NOTES. [31-35
who brought together the Homeric poems. Perhaps he meant to
imply that some unknown scholar really did the work under the direc-
tion of Pisistratus. In any case, he wished to flatter Hanmer by
reducing the Greek editor, whoever he was, to a mere prototype of the
English editor.
146. boundless is more significant than the earlier reading. It sug-
gests how much was gained by bringing together these many and
various poems into an " harmonious whole " (I. 141), while tuneful is an
irrelevant commonplace.
147. his Athens. A graceful hint that Oxford University would
gain lasting glory by this work of her son.
ODES. (33)
The Odes were published as a thin octavo in December, 1746, with
the imprint 1747. For the title-page, see p. Ixxx. "This Day are
published, Price i s.. Odes on several Descriptive and Allegoric sub-
jects, viz. [The titles of the Odes follow in double column.] By
William Collins. Printed for A. Millar, in the Strand ; and sold by the
Booksellers of Town and Country." — T/ie General Advertiser, London,
December 20, 1746. One thousand copies were printed : " Mr. Andrew
Millar, Dr. Dec. 15, 1746. Mr. Collins's Odes, 8vo, No. 1000, 3^
shts." — Ledger of Woodfall, the printer, from Notes and Queries, ist
series, vol. XI, p. 419.
Pindar's lines may be translated thus :
Skill to invent poetic phrase be mine,
That so, a worthy servant of the Nine,
I may drive onward in the Muses' car.
Daring attend me, Power that knows no bar !
The appositeness of the motto is evident. The ode is an ambitious form
of composition, calling for boldness, power, and originality.
ODE TO PITY. (35)
This ode and the next are companion pieces. Both were evidently
suggested by Aristotle's dictum that tragedy effects, through pity and
fear, the purgation of these and the like passions ; and the drama is
35,36] NOTES. 97
never far from the poet's thought. The conclusion of each ode indi-
cates that Collins was intending to write a tragedy ; cf. Johnson's state-
ment, p. xviii. It was characteristic of Collins to offer up these odes
on the altar of the tragic muse, as preliminary to a greater work which
was never completed and probably never begun.
1-3. Cf. The Passions, 49, 50.
7. Pella's bard. Euripides died in Pella, the ancient capital of
Macedonia.
The note by Collins is inaccurate. Aristotle's words are : TpayiKwrards
ye Twv TToiriTuv (paiveTai {Poetics, 13, 10) ; "he seems the most tragic at
least of the poets." There is no special reference to Sophocles.
14. Ilissus'. The Ilissus flowed through Athens, where the plays of
Euripides were acted and where he passed most of his life.
19. wren. The wren seems to have been selected as Pity's bird
merely because of its gentleness.
thy myrtles. The myrtle, which in ancient times was sacred to the
goddess of love and used for wreaths for bloodless victors, may appro-
priately be transferred to the gentle goddess of Pity.
20. gentlest Otway's. The tragedies of Thomas Otway (1651-1685)
excel in pathos.
24. Thy turtles. The turtle dove, the bird of Venus by reason of
its talent in courtship, may also be claimed by Pity for its gentleness.
Collins is creating a new Pantheon in these odes, and his deified
abstractions perforce filch from the old gods.
27. " In the Ode to Pity, the idea of a temple of Pity, of its situa-
tion, construction, and groups of painting with which its walls were
decorated, was borrowed from a poem, now lost, entitled The Temple of
Pity, written by my brother while he and Collins were school-fellows at
Winchester college." — T. Warton's letter to Ilymers (see p. xi).
41, 42. The lines are an interesting bit of contemporary criticism
upon the prevailing intellectualism and lack of passion in English
poetry of the period.
ODE TO FEAR. (36)
4. Fancy = Imagination. Throughout the ode, fear as a mental
fact (for Fear as a personification see note on 1. 46) is not cowardice but
imaginative and sublime apprehension of the terrible.
5, 6. The short metre helps to convey the feeling of alarm. The
staccato movement in 1. 5, and the repetition of see in 1. 6, contribute to
the same effect.
98 NOTES. [36-38
7, 8. The repetitions continue the impression of alarm.
i8. near allied, i.e., to the phantoms of 1. i6.
22. In the note Collins has changed the case of the Greek words,
perhaps to bring the phrase into the grammar of the English sentence.
The order, also, is changed ; Sophocles wrote {Electra, 1388), &VKToi
lajvci, " the hounds whom none may escape."
26. earliest Greece. The drama came comparatively late in the his-
tory of Greece ; .(Eschylus, the first of the great dramatists (cf. 1. 30),
was bom in 52^ B.C. Earliest perhaps is used, by rhetorical exaggera-
tion, for " early ";-or the comparison may be between Greece and later
nations. \
31. ^schylus fou^t in the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Pla-
taea. The stanza seems irrelevant unless the intention be to suggest
again (see note to 1. 4) mat the fear invoked in the ode is tragic, imagi-
native, not cowardly : i^schylus, so great a master in the apprehension
and portrayal of the terrible, was yet a brave man.
34. later garlands. Sophocles was thirty years younger than
.(^ischylus.
35. Hybla's dews. Hybla, a city of Sicily, was celebrated for the
honey produced in its vicinity. Sophocles was called "the Attic bee "
because of the pervading grace and sweetness of his art. The implica-
tion that he left his usual manner for a harsher one in (Ediptts Coloneus
is not true. It is a characteristic of Sophocles that he harmonizes the
terrible and the gracious ; and, further, CEdipus Coloneus is less stem
than CEdipus Tyra7inus and some of his other plays.
37. baleful grove. The scene of the play is the entrance to a grove,
at Colonus, dedicated to the Furies.
38. thy cloudy veil. The voice spoke from out a thunderstorm,
queen. Collins's memory was at fault. It was not Jocasta but a
god : KoXd yap avrbv ttoXXA iro'KXaxv Seoi, " For the god called him with
many callings."— GLdip. Colon., 1626, Jebb's translation.
39. son and husband. See note on Epistle to Sir Tliomas Hannier, 23.
Translation of the Greek : " Now (when) no longer was their voice
uplifted, silence befell. Then of a sudden rose the cry of one that
called him. So all were struck with fear and sudden fright, that made
their hairs to stand on end." — Qidip. Colon., 1622-1625.
40. once alone. Another error; see " many callings " in note on 1. 38.
46. weary lengths hast past. The excess of consonants and the
unintentional rhyme are patent defects.
" lo seems to have been the original of this nymph." — Colchester
edition of Collins, 1796.
38,39] NOTES. 99
Why should Fear be weary ? And how should she " rest " by behold-
uig more horrors (cf. 11. 48-52) ? The inconsistency is, however, as
Mrs. Barbauld {Prefatory Essay to CoUins's poems, London, 1797)
pointed out, only incidental to a deeper one in the very conception'of
Fear, who is thought of sometimes as suffering fear and sometimes as
inspiring it or delighting in it. Cf. The Passioiis, 17-20. The method
may, perhaps, be justified on the ground that the loss in unity is more
than offset by variety and completeness ; but the inconsistency should
not have been forced upon us by a mingling of the two conceptions in
one passage.
51. The spondees at the beginning and end of the line, and the allit-
eration in big and beat, make the line finely imitative of the pounding
of waves against a cliff.
57-63. Cf. V Allegro, 100-116; A I\Iidstii)inier-Night''s Dreatti, iii, 2,
381-384; Hajnlet, i, i, 152-155 and i, 5, 11. Dyce also compares
11. 60-63 ^^'^'^ Coniiis, 43-46:
Some say no evil thing that walks by night,
In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen,
Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost.
That breaks his magic chains at curfew time,
No goblin or swart faery of the mine.
59. thrice-hallow'd eve. Apparently the reference is to Hallowe'en,
when fairies, imps, and witches are supposed to be especially active.
Cf. Burns's Hallowe'en.
70. cypress wreath. Not here the emblem of death, but Shakspere's
crown as a tragic poet.
71. The line is imitated from // Fetiseroso, 175, 176 :
These pleasures, Melancholy, give,
And I with thee will choose to live.
ODE TO SIMPLICITY. (39)
1, 2. These lines are the key to the conception of simplicity through-
out the ode : it is not a simplicity adopted as a manner, but the product
of naturalness and sincerity.
3. warmly pure, and sweetly strong. This simplicity, being the
product of nature, is free from the coldness and weakness of a formal,
academic simplicity. Cf. 11. 45, 48.
100 NOTES. [39, 40
10. iitZ^XiX^^ decorous, unpretentious in appearance. Cf. 11. 8, 9 and
chaste, unboastfnl, in 1. 12. The conception is apparently an echo from
// Penseroso, 35, 36 :
And sable stole of cypress lawn
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
11. Attic robe. Cf. note on 1. 21.
14. Hybla's. See note on the Ode to Fear, 35.
16. In this ode in praise of Attic simplicity the allusion to the night-
ingale is pertinent, not only for the reason implied in CoUins's note, but
also because the nightingale is preeminently the " Attic bird."
18. sweetly sad Electra's poet's ear. The allusion is to Sophocles,
one of whose tragedies is Electra. Milton {Sonnet viii) had used nearly
the same words, " sad Electra's poet," to designate Euripides, who wrote
a play upon the same subject. Sweetly sad should be taken with Elec-
tra's: in Sophocles's play (11. 147-149) Electra, leading the chorus,
mourns for her murdered father, Agamemnon, saying that the plaintive
niglitingale is more pleasing to her than such as forget the death of
their parents ; see the reference to the nightingale in Collins's note
to 1. 16.
19. Cephisus was the largest river in Attica, flowing past Athens.
21. thy green retreat. Athens. The reference throughout stanzas
3 and 4 is to Greek literature, as without equal in simplicity.
24. The period aftery^,?/, in the original edition, has been changed to
a colon, because stanzas 3 and 4 seem to go most naturally with the
first three lines of stanza 5, although they might be taken with 1. 12.
26. To should be " into " ; see infuse, 1. 27.
32. virtue's. " Virtue " here has its original meaning of heroic man-
hood. The contrast is with effeminate love ; see 1. 39.
35. one distinguish'd throne. The throne of Augustus, the patron
of \'ergil and Horace.
39. her, i.e., Rome's. The reference is to the literature of medieval
and modern Italy. Cf. An Epistle to Sir Thomas Ilanmer, 40-44.
41, 42. The thought is that the natural advantages of Italy cannot
win Ijack simplicity to her poetry while she lacks the more manly virtues.
48. meeting soul. di. L' Allegro, 136-138:
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse.
Such as the meeting soul may pierce.
41] NOTES. 101
ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER. (41)
I. As once. The second term of the comparison is not reached till
1. 17, where thus is correlative with As.
regard = attention.
3, 4. It is significant that Collins praises, not Spenser alone, but his
" school." The romantic school of poetry, he says, is favored most by
the Faerie Queene, whom he here conceives of as also Queen of Poesie.
On the growing popularity of Spenser in the first half of the eighteenth
century, see Phelps's Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement,
chap. iv.
5. One, only one. In the note this one is said to be Florimel.
Collins had read his Spenser " with light regard," or had forgotten what
he read, for he makes two mistakes here. The girdle belonged to
Florimel but could be worn by any one that had " the vertue of chast
love and wivehood true" {luierie Queene, bk. iv, canto v, stanza 3);
and at the tourney Amoret, not Florimel, was the " unrivalled fair " who
alone of all the ladies present could wear it {Faerie Queene, bk. iv,
canto V, stanzas 16, 17, 19). Possibly Collins had a theory that Flori-
mel and Amoret were really the same person. More probably his
remembrance was hazy ; and with characteristic indolence he made
poetic capital out of his very uncertainty, and penned the first couplet
instead of consulting JVie Faerie Queene.
7. Cf. // Fenseroso, i 16-1 18 :
And if aught else great bards beside
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of turneys, and of trophies hung. ■*
8. love-darting eye. Mitford (in Dyce's Collins) compares Cotnus, 753 :
Love-darting eyes, and tresses like the morn ;
and Pope's Flegy to the Memory of an Unforti0iate Lady, 34 :
And those love-darting eyes must roll no more.
17-21. The excessive repetition of to harms the verse and somewhat
obscures the meaning.
17. Young Fancy. Imagination, the source of all poetry, is forever
young.
to me divinest name. This was no hollow conventionalism. To
Collins, as to Keats, poetry was a passion.
18. whom. The antecedent is Fancy, not 7ne.
19. cest = cestus, girdle.
102 NOTES. [42,43
/ 23-40. The most obscure passage in Collins. Mrs. Barbauld has
/ expressed the thought as definitely as it admits of expression :
" Probably the obscure idea that floated in the mind of the author was this,
that true poetry, being a representation of nature, must have its archetype in
those ideas of the Supreme Mind which originally gave birth to nature." — Pref-
atory Essay to Collins's poems, London, 1797.
23. fairy legends. The allusion seems to be wholly fanciful.
29-31. The lines are not only anthropomorphic but disagreeably
suggestive oi Jupiter Afnatis or an oriental monarch i^his seraglio.
29. the lov'd enthusiast. Young Fancy, 1. 17.
32. sapphire throne. The blue heavens (cf. vaulted shrine, 1. i'^ ;
but they are the upper heavens, above the " tented sky " (1. 26) of this
world. Cf. the cosmography of Paradise Lost.
39. rich-hair'd Youth of Morn. The sun. Cf. the Greek concep-
tion of the youthful Apollo, god of the sun ; al8o->2i'E? P\ierie Queene,
bk. i, canto v, stanza 2 :
And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome^to his mate.
Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hayre.
And hurl'd his glistring h)eams through gloomy ayre,
40. subject = lying under.
was. One of Collins's few slips in grammar.
41-50. Collins's conception of poetry is significant. Poetry is free
from the evil passions ; is full of wonder, sublimity, and truth ; employs
all the mental powers of man, and even has in it something of the
angelic splendor. Spenser and Milton evidently were the poets chiefly
in mind ; cf. the references to them at the beginning and end of the poem.
46. tarsel's. The male falcon.
54. this hallow'd work. The cestus. See 11. 5, 6, 17-21.
55. High on some cliff goes grammatically with / view that oak,
1. 63. The cliff is of course a symbol of Milton's poetry, and even the
details are symbolic ; see especially 11. 56, 58, 59, 62.
57. tangled. A bold and picturesque word in this application. It
suggests the rugged, irregular contour of the cliff, whose shadows seem
to lie in confusion along its sides and around its base.
jealous steep, i.e., overhanging the valleys and apparently trying to
seclude them from view. Cf. E Allegro, 6 :
Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings.
60. In its condensed richness the line reminds one of Milton's early
manner.
43] NOTES. 103
63. that oaK. An allusion to // Penseroso, 59, 60 :
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke
Gently o'er th' accustomed oak.
66. spher'd in heav'n, i.e., in one of the spheres in which the heavenly
bodies, according to the Ptolemaic astronomy, are fixed. Cf. Comus, 2-4:
where those immortal shapes
Of bright aerial spirits live insphered
In regions mild.
69. Waller's myrtle shades. The best poems of Edmund Waller
(1605-1687) are his love poems, which in CoUins's day were highly
esteemed for their sweetness of versification. " Well-placing of words,
for the sweetness of pronunciation, was not known till Mr. Waller
introduced it." — Dryden's Defence of the Epilogue (the Scott-Saintsbury
Dryden, London, 1892, vol. IV, p. 233).
And praise the easy vigour of a line,
Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join.
— Pope's Essay on Criticism^ 360, 361.
CoUins's preference for the more sublime and rugged poetry of
Milton is one more proof of his dissatisfaction with the literary ideals of
his time.
72. one alone. Milton. Cf. 1. 5.
ODE WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR 1746.
At the battle of Fontenoy, May 11, 1745, in the War of the Austrian
Succession, the English soldiers with dogged courage exposed them-
selves to a terrible fire, and their column was torn in pieces. At
Preston Pans, September 21, 1745, and at Falkirk, January 17, 1746, the
English troops were defeated by the forces of the Young Pretender
(grandson of James II), who claimed the throne of Great Britain. The
ode may commemorate the English who fell in all these engagements.
It seems, however, to have been occasioned by a particular and recent
battle, and the second part of the title would point to the battle of Fal-
kirk. But in Dodsley's Collection of Poems, 1748, in which the ode was
reprinted, it immediately followed the Ode to a Lady, which was there
said to have been "written May, 1745"; and the second ode was
104 NOTES. [43, 44
announced as " written in the same year." If this date is correct, the
poem probably refers to the heroes of Fontenoy only. But the date
appears to be an unauthorized change or a careless mistake ; it contra-
dicts the date given by Collins in 1746, when he surely would not have
dated it so definitely, " in the beginning of the year 1 746," unless his
memory had been clear upon the point.
The variant readings in lines 5, 7, 8 in some editions are without
authority.
" The following stanzas are almost unrivalled in the combination of
poetry with painting, pathos with fancy, grandeur with simplicity, and
romance with reality." — James Montgomery, Introductory Essay to the
Christian Psalmist, 1825, p. xi.
ODE TO MERCY. (44)
Dyce compares with the strophe Phineas Fletcher's Purple Island,
canto vi, stanza 16:
But see, how, twixt her sister and her sire,
Soft-hearted Mercy sweetly interposing,
Settles her panting breast against his fire,
Pleading for grace, and chains of death unloosing:
Hark! from her lips the melting honey flows;
The striking Thunderer recalls his blows,
And every armed soldier down his weapon throws.
A writer in The London Magazine, July, 1S21, compares Statius's
Thebais, iii, 261-265.
Fervidus in laevum torquet Gradivus habenas,
Jamque iter extremum, coelique abrupta tenebat,
Cum Venus ante ipsos nulla formidine gressum
Figit equos : cessere retro, jam jamque rigentes
Suppliciter posuere jubas.
7-10. Cf. Joseph Warton's prose sketch of the Passions (see p.
iiS): "She [Pity] frequents fields of battle, protects the slain, and
stanches their wounds with her veil and hair."
8. godlike chiefs alone. Probably a compliment was intended for
William, Duke of Cumberland, younger son of George II, who was
very popular at this time. Horace Walpole wrote of him, after the
battle of Fontenoy, " All the letters are full of the Duke's humanity and
bravery." — IValpolc^s Letters, May 24, 1745.
44, 4;,] • NOTES. 105
15. The Fiend of Nature. Apparently not War, but a principle of
evil prompting man to war and other cruel deeds. The conception is
vague; the phrase recalls the Ode to Fear, 18, 19, but nature must here
include human nature as well as physical.
join'd his yoke, i.e., yoked his steeds.
16. The allusion is apparently to the invasion of Cheat Britain by the
Young Pretender.
17-22. The lines seem to refer to- the dispersal of the Pretender's
army by the battle of Culloden, April 16, 1746, and the consequent
deliverance of Great Britain from the horrors of civil war. The picture
might well have been suggested by the famous story that Attila, on his
way to sack Rome, was met by Pope Leo the Great and persuaded to
turn back.
26. queen is predicate nominative after ride.
ODE TO LIBERTY. (45)
3-6. The tradition is that the Spartans before entering battle combed
and adorned their locks as for a festival. Probaljly there is in the lines
a special reference to the fight at Thermopylae, where, it is said,
the scouts of the Persians, peering into the narrow pass before the
battle, were amazed and awed to see the little band of Spartans gaily
combing their long hair.
4. " On ceremonious occasions the Spartans used to adorn their
heads with hyacinthine chaplets. [See Theocritus, Idyl 18.] This
custom probably suggested the comparison." — Colchester edition of
Collins, 1796.
sullen hue. The classic hyacinth was dark-colored. Mitford (in
Dyce's Collins) compares Frtideiitii Car7nina, p. 492, ed. Delph. : Et
ferrugineo vernantes flore coronas.
5. \\xiMQ^= manhood, valor.
7. Alcaeus. The poem cjuoted is a banquet song, preserved in
Athenaeus. There is nothing to show that it is a fragment. Collins
omitted si.x lines, two after 1. 2, two after 1. 4, and two at the end.
There is authority for oviru., 1. 3 ; but ov t'l vov makes better sense
and metre, and is adopted in the translation below. By ITesychius the
lines are attributed to Callistratus, not to Alcaeus. Certainly the
Lesbian Alcaeus, who flourished about 600 B.C., did not celebrate
the assassination of Ilipparchus at Athens in 514. The metre is not
even the so-called Alcaic verse.
106 NOTES. • [45,46
Translation, including the omitted lines :
In bough of myrtle I my sword will carry,
As did Harmodius and Aristogiton
That day the twain struck down the tyrant,
And gave Athenians equal rights of freemen.
Harmodius dear, thou hadst no part in dying,
But in the Blessed Isles men say thou bidest,
Where dwell (men say) the fleet Achilles
And Diomedes, noble son of Tydeus.
In bough of myrtle I my sword will carry.
As did Harmodius and Aristogiton,
When at the festal rites of Pallas
The twain struck down Hipparchus the usurper.
Wide as the world shall ever be your glory.
Dearest Harmodius and Aristogiton,
For that ye twain struck down the tyrant.
And gave Athenians equal rights of freemeii.
9. The assassination occurred at a festival of Pallas Athene, goddess
of wisdom.
15, 16. Translation of the note : Nay, let us not speak of these
things which made Demeter weep. — Callimachus, Hymn to Demeter.
17-25. The historical allusion is not apt. The overthrow of the cor-
rupt and decadent Roman Empire by the northern barbarians, although
an immediate blow to civilization and the arts, was ultimately a gain
for freedom. Mitford (in Uyce's Collins) observes that the image is
from Poggio's de Varietate Fortunae. Dyce quotes Gibbon : " The public
and private edifices [of Rome] that were founded for eternity, lie pros-
trate, broken, and naked, like the limbs of a mighty giant." It does not
follow, of course, that Collins's lines suggested Gibbon's figure, but the
parallel is interesting.
19. The imitative effect of the line is due chiefly to the caesura in the
last foot. Cf. an equivalent device in the Aeneid, v, 4S1 :
Sternitur exanimisque tremens procumbit humi bos.
26. the least, i.e., of the fragments.
36. Science = Z^ar«/«^, Liberal Culture.
37. The Medici ruled Florence by methods curiously like those of a
modern " boss " :
" It was impossible for Cosimo openly to assume the position of tyrant of
Florence. . . . He managed to attain his object by means of the' balie.' These
46-48] NOTES. 107
magistracies, which were generally renewed every five years, placed in the ballot
bags the names of the candidates from whom the signory and other chief magis-
trates were to be chosen. As soon as a ' balia ' favorable to Cosimo was formed,
he was assured for five years of having the government in the hands of men
devoted to his interests. He had comprehended that ... he who ruled men
could also dictate laws." — Enc. Brit., 9th ed., vol. XV, p. 7S5.
39. jealous Pisa. Pisa was annexed to Florence in 1406; became
independent in 1494; after several attacks submitted again to her more
powerful rival in 1 509.
44, 45. Every year, on Ascension Day, the doge of Venice, with a
magnificent ceremonial, symbolically wedded the Adriatic Sea, throwing
a ring into its waters in token of the city's maritime supremacy.
47. Lydian measure. The ancient Lydian style of music was soft
and amorous, suited to pleasant moods and subjects. Cf. L' Allegro,
135. 136:
And ever, against eating cares.
Lap me in soft Lydian airs.
49. The republic of Genoa, after a proud career as a maritime power
in the Middle Ages, suffered many vicissitudes ; it was taken by the
French in 16S4, and by the Austrians, with the aid of a British fleet, in
the fall of 1746. This recent humiliation, no doubt, was what Collins
had especially in mind.
53. The daring archer. William Tell.
55. The rav'ning eagle. Austria, from whose control Tell helped
to free Switzerland.
58. Alva. The duke of Alva, the Spanish general notorious for his
cruelty in the Netherlands, whither he was sent in 1567, by Philip 11 of
Spain, to stamp out Protestantism there. lie boasted that in the six
years of his administration he had brought 18,000 persons to execution
in addition to those slain in battle.
59. The revolted provinces of the Netherlands, through their com-
missioners, offered Elizabeth the crown in 1575, which she declined.
68. cliff sublime and hoary. An allusion to the high, white clay
bluffs of the English coast where it faces toward France.
72. Orcas. The Orkney Islands (Latin Orcades).
wolfish mountains. In the Orkneys the sea-wall in places rises
HOC feet sheer from the waves, which howl in the caves hollowed out
at its base.
75. her giant sons. " The island was then called Albion, and was
inhabited by none but a few giants. . . . Among the rest was one
detestable monster, named Goemagot, in stature twelve cubits, and of
108 NOTES. [48, 49
such prodigious strength that at one shake he pulled up an oak as if it
had been a hazel wand." — Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Britonum,
lib. i, cap. 1 6, Thompson's translation.
uncouth, i.e., causing alarm by its strangeness, a-meaning that springs
naturally from unknown, the literal signification of the word. Strange
is doubtless meant to include the unnatural as well as the unusual.
But, at best, strange U7iconth surprise involves some tautology.
76. This pillar'd earth, Britain.
80, 81. Dyce compares Comics, 21-23:
all the sea-girt isles
That, like to rich and various gems, inlay
The unadorned bosom of the deep.
82-84. " Both those isles still retain much of the genius of supersti-
tion, and are now the only places where there is the least chance of find-
ing a faery." — Langhorne's Collins, London, 1765, p. 166.
85. thee. Liberty.
87, 88. The thought is that Liberty parted England from the main-
land in order that, after being thrust out from Greece, Rome, modern
Italy, etc., she might find a permanent home at last in this island
fortified by the sea. It is only a poetic inversion of the truism that
Britain owes her independence in good part to her insular position, as
in t,he days of the Armada, when the seas fought for English liberty.
90. navel. Cf. Comus, 520 :
Within the navel of this hideous wood.
91. Oak groves were the Druids' favorite places of worship. The
druidic temple may appropriately be called the shrine of Liberty, for the
Druids took a leading part in the Britons' resistance to Rome.
93,94. An unfortunate couplet. Even a " painted native" should
have known better than to " meet " Liberty's "form celestial " with his
" feet." It is a pity, also, that the exigencies of metre deprived 7iieet of
its " to."
103, 104. Mitford (in Dyce's Collins^ compares Dekker's Wonder
of a Ki)igdom, iii, i, iS :
I '11 pave my great hall with a floor of clouds.
107. islands blest. The Happy Islands, where the souls of the
heroic dead lived in bliss. See Lucian's Vera Historia, bk. ii, section 6,
for the Classic conception of them ; and for the Celtic conception see
A. Nutt's essay on The Happy Otherworld, in K. Meyer's edition of
771 c Voyage of Bran.
49-51] NOTES. 109
io8. Heb6, as the goddess of youth, may appropriately be coupled
with Spring.
III. zo\i%QX\.t^=^ in concert. The Druids were poets and singers as
well as priests.
118-120. Architecture is here sacrificed to symbolism, the mixture
of Greek and Gothic signifying that ideal freedom ("the beauteous
model," 1. 106) combines all that is good in ancient and modern states.
122. sphere-found =^foimd in the spheres, i.e., in the heavenly
spheres of the Ptolemaic astronomy, "beyond yon braided clouds"
(1. 103), where this temple of ideal liberty is.
128. A proud claim that English freedom comes nearest to the ideal.
Cf. 11. 61-63.
129-144. The passage contains several lines in Collins's worst man-
ner; see especially 11. 131, 132, 141-144.
133-136. Cf. Ode to Mercy.
140. Cf. Lycidas, 68, 69 :
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair ?
ODE TO A LADY. (51)
The ode was first printed in Dodsley's Museum, June 7, 1746. It
was reprinted in the Odes, 1747, and in Dodsley's Collection of Poems,
1748, 2d ed. The three texts differ considerably. The text of 1748
has been adopted in the present edition, except in 1. 46 (see note). In
1748 Collins was living in or near London, in full possession of his
faculties, and it is probable that the new text represented his latest
revision of the poem. This probability is greatly strengthened by the
fact that the changes are improvements, and especially by the unmis-
takable Collins flavor of stanza 4.
" I had lately his first manuscript of the Ode on the Death of Colonel
Ross, with many interlineations and alterations. The lady to whom
this ode is addressed was Miss Elizabeth Goddard, who then lived at
or near Harting, in Sussex." — Thomas Warton (see p. xi). Warton
goes on to quote several readings in the manuscript which differed from
the published texts ; see the variant readings marked " MS."
3. fatal day. See note on the battle of Fontenoy, p. 103.
13. rapid Scheld's. The Schelde, or Scheldt, flows by Fontenoy.
The epithet rafid is conventional and incorrect ; from source to mouth
110 NOTES. [51,52
the river has an average fall of only one foot per mile, and at Fontenoy
it is flowing through the flat country of Belgium. Contrast Goldsmith's
Traveller, 2 :
Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po.
19-24. The three forms of this stanza give an interesting glimpse
into Collins's workshop. In the first form the element of grief for the
dead hero is wanting, or, at most, is only implied. In the second form
this element is added, but in the conventional expressions, "bath'd in
tears " and " sigh thy name." Freedom, who in the first draft was
Honour's superfluous double, gives place to " aerial forms," because
two additional stanzas are now devoted to her farther on. In the last
form the stanza is divided equally between the ideas of grief and honor.
The superiority of the stanza in its final form is due chiefly, however,
to the conception and expression. The second and third lines embody
one of those delicate and shadowy fancies in which Collins most
delighted ; the fancy is present in the text of 1 747, but not fully devel-
oped. Honour is now conceived with more majesty ; contrast " Impe-
rial Honour's awful hand" with "applauding," "haunts his tomb,"
" bath'd in tears," or " sigh thy name." The same reserve of silent grief
which appears in " bend the pensive head " is maintained in " point his
lonely bed," and is especially grateful by contrast with the Honour of
the text of 1747, who reminds one of the conventional maudlin lover.
There is a slight gain also in confining the mourners to the vicinity of
the tomb instead of letting them "rove . . . through every grove."
Thy virtues, 1. 19, helps us to remember that the ode is addressed "to a
lady."
19. gt\tvt = lan!eiii. This use of the word is rare but legitimate.
31. Edward's sons. Only the eldest son of Edward III, the cele-
brated Black Prince, fought at Cressy. The others were then children,
nor were they ever famous as soldiers; John of Gaunt fought in later
campaigns, but was not a competent general.
32. Cressy's laurell'd field. The Battle of Cressy occurred almost
exactly four hundred years (Aug. 26, 1346) before the Battle of Fon-
tenoy; 30,000 English defeated 100,000 French, killing 42,000. As
Collins implies, the English troops at Fontenoy, although unsuccessful,
fought with equal courage, attacking three times in the face of a
murderous fire.
36. The two stanzas inserted at this point in the text of 1747 were
wisely struck out in the next year. They lessen the unity of the ode by
diverting attention from the death of Ross and the sorrow of the lady
52,53] NOTES. Ill
to the state of the nation. Collins may have added them as a compli-
ment to William, Duke of Cumberland, younger son of George II, who
defeated the army of the Young Pretender at Culloden, April i6, 1746,
and freed England from what threatened at one time to be a serious
danger. The victory was also an indirect blow to France, which had
aided the Pretender, and for that reason was doubly pleasing to the
English, smarting under their defeat at Fontenoy. The stanza reflects
the universal feeling at the time toward the young duke, whose popu-
larity was immense. Parliament voted him an additional income of
;^40,000.
"It is a brave young Duke! The town is all blazing round me, as I write,
with fireworks and illuminations." — WalpoWs Letters, London, April 25, 1746.
" Yesterday at Noon the Guns were fir'd in the Park and at the Tower, on
Account of the Defeat of the Rebels ; immediately after the Bells begun to ring,
and at Night there were more Illuminations, and greater Rejoicings, throughout
the Cities of London and Westminster and Borough of Southwark, than has been
known in the Memory of Man." — The General Advertiser, London, April 25,
1746.
46. Harting's. See Warton's letter, p. 109.
cottag'd. The reading of the text of 1748, cottage, seems like a typo-
graphical error ; at all events its use here is incorrect.
ODE TO EVENING. (53)
This ode was first published among the Odes, 1747; reprinted, with
changes, in Dodsley's Collection of Poems, 1748, 2d ed., and in The
Union, 1753, which was edited by Thomas Warton (see Richard Mant's
edition of T. Warton's poems, Oxford, 1802, p. xxiv). The text of 1748
and 1753 is followed in the present edition. It is improbable that
Warton, an intimate friend of Collins and a careful scholar, would
have adopted Dodsley's text unless the revisions had come from the
hand of the poet. The changes are in CoUins's manner, and most of
them are improvements.
" I know he had a design of writing many more odes without rhyme."
— J. Warton, quoted by T. Warton in his edition of Milton's Poems
upon Several Occasions, London, 1791, p. 362 (note upon the translation
of the Fifth Ode of Horace). T. Warton adds: " Dr. J. Warton might
have added that his own Ode to Evening was written before that of his
friend Collins."
112 NOTES. [53
In these days of painful searching for objective scientific standards in
literary criticism it is restful to harken to the ever delightful Langhorne
speaking on this wise :
" It might be a sufficient encomium on this beautiful ode to observe that it has
been particularly admired by a lady to whom Nature has given the most perfect
principles of taste. She has not even complained of the want of- rhyme in it, a
circumstance by no means unfavourable to the canse of lyric blank verse ; for
surely, if a fair reader can endure an ode without bells and chimes, the mascuUne
genius may dispense with them." — Langhorne's Collins, London, 1765, p. 173.
" The very spirit of Poussin and Claude breathes throughout the whole,
mingled indeed with a wilder and more visionary train of ideas, yet subdued and
chastened by the softest tones of melancholy." — Nathan Drake's Literary Hours,
Sudbury, 1798, p. 391.
" The ode is not so much to be read like a poem as to be viewed like a picture."
— Robert A. Willmott, in his edition of Collins, London, 1854.
It is interesting to compare Joseph Warton's To Evening, published
in the same month :
Hail meek-ey'd maiden, clad in sober grey.
Whose soft approach the weary woodman loves,
As homeward bent to kiss his prattling babes,
He jocund whistles thro' the twilight groves.
When Phoebus sinks behind the gilded hills.
You lightly o'er the misty meadows walk,
The drooping daisies bathe in honey-dews,
And nurse the nodding violet's slender stalk :
The panting Dryads that in day's fierce heat
To inmost bowers and cooling caverns ran,
Return to trip in wanton evening-dance,
Old Sylvan too returns, and laughing Pan.
To the deep wood the clamorous rooks repair.
Light skims the swallow o'er the wat'ry scene.
And from the sheep>-cotes, and fresh-furrow'd field.
Stout plowmen meet to wrestle on the green.
The swain that artless sings on yonder rock.
His supping sheep and lengthening shadow spies,
Pleas'd with the cool, the calm, refreshful hour,
And with hoarse hummings of unnumber'd flies.
Now every passion sleeps ; desponding Love,
And pining Envy, ever-restless Pride
An holy calm creeps o'er my p>eaceful soul.
Anger and mad Ambition's storms subside.
53,54] NOTES. 113
O modest Evening, oft let me appear
A wandering votary in thy pensive train,
List'ning to every wildly-warbling throat
That fills with farewell notes the dark'ning plain.
1. If. The conclusion begins in 1. 15.
2. There is some tautology in chaste and modest, but on the whole the
line was improved by the revision. In the text of 1747 the expletive O
weakens the effect. Pensive, as Dyce remarks, was changed probably
because it is used in stanza 7 ; and it is not so comprehensive a charac-
terization of evening as chaste. Cf. Verses Written on a Paper, 24.
3. "' Brawling' was injurious to the deep repose of the poem; while
the word ' solemn ' substituted for an external fact a tranquil impression
in the mind of the poet." — Athenaeum, Jan. 5, 1856.
7. brede = braid, anhroidcry.
9-14. Cf. Macbeth, iii, 2, 40-43:
ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
Hath rung night's yawning peal.
ID. leathern wing. Dyce compares The Faerie Qjicer.e, bk. ii,
canto xii, stanza 36, 1. 6:
The lether-winged Batt, dayes enimy.
Cf. the line from the poem written by Collins at school (see p. xiii) :
And every Gradus flapped his leathern wing.
II, 12. Dyce compares Lycidas, 28:
What time the grey-fly winds her sultry horn.
24. flow'rs. The change from bicds is a doubtful improvement. The
rhyme with Hours is objectionable; and half-opened buds seem just the
dormitories for elves — the same little creatures that in the days of
Shakspere and Nick Bottom used to " creep into acorn cups and hide
them there." But the picture of an elf curled up in a flower fast asleep,
during the day, and tumbling drowsily out of it at nightfall to begin his
pranks, is pretty enough for anybody.
29-32. The earlier form of this stanza is inferior in breadth of view;
three of the four lines are devoted chiefly to the " ruin." It is inferior
in tranquillity also (see luild, dreary, and awful), and therefore does not
harmonize so well with the central impression of the poem. In the
later form, sheety is a neologism, and does not please the ear ; but it
does picture the still and cool-gleaming surface of the lonely lake.
114 NOTES. [54-56
35, 36. " Like him [Milton] he has the rich economy of expression
haloed with thought, which by single or few words often hints entire
pictures to the imagination. In what short and simple terms, for
instance, does he open a wide and majestic landscape to the mind, such
as we might view from Benlomond or Snowden, when he speaks of the
hut
That from the mountain's side
Views wilds and swelling floods."
— Campbell, in his Specimens 0/ the British Poets, London, 1819, vol.
\\ p. 310.
47, 48. A figurative expression of the fact that the twilight in winter
is short, evening quickly giving place to night.
49-52. The stanza is a serious blemish, especially as the conclusion
of so beautiful and delicate a poem. The second version is the worse, but
either is bad enough. The whole conception is conventional, and sylvan
shed and rose-lipped Health are stock-phrases. What evening has to
do with Fancy, Friendship, and the other capitalized ghosts assembled
in the sylvan shed is not apparent, except in the case of Peace. Per-
haps Collins meant to suggest that the evening is the best time for
writing poetry, entertaining friends, and studying ; but this leaves
Health unaccounted for.
49. the. The change to thy in the text of 1753 was apparently acci-
dental, by attraction of thy in 11. 51, 52.
ODE TO PEACE. (55)
The ode was evidently suggested by the recent wars in Scotland and
on the continent (see pp. 103, 105,111).
1-6. Cf. the myth of Astraea, the goddess of justice, who left earth
for heaven at the end of the Colden Age.
I. turtles, i.e., turtle-doves, who draw the chariot of Peace.
5. The allusion is to the invasion of Great Britain by the Young
Pretender.
10. the turning spheres. According to the Ptolemaic system of
astronomy, the heavenly bodies were set in transparent hollow spheres
having the earth as their common centre ; the revolving of the spheres
produced ravishing music, too fine for mortal ear. Cf. Milton's On the
Morning of Christ's A'ativity, 45-48 :
56, 57] NOTES. 115
But he, her fears to cease,
Sent down the meek-eyed Peace :
She, crowned with ohve green, came softly sliding
Down through the turning sphere.
THE MANNERS. (56)
This poem stands somewhat by itself among the Odes. Its title
would suggest that it is a companion-piece to The Passtotts, but the
likeness stops with the title. The poem is more didactic and meditative
than lyric. From the subject-matter it has been conjectured that the
ode was written in 1743 or 1744, when Collins left Oxford for London;
see 11. 1-6, 19-26, 75-78. The closing lines, in particular, are full of
the exultation which a man of Collins's temperament would feel upon
plunging, with a sense of newly acquired freedom, into the varied life
of a great city. The style and verse also suggest that the poem is
earlier than the other Odes, and more nearly contemporary with
the Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer. Lines 67-70, with the foot-note
about Le Sage's death in 1745, could easily have been inserted later,
upon a report of his decease — a false report, for he did not die till
November, 1747, and in Boulogne, not in Paris.
4. requir'd = sought again and again.
10-12. The thought is, that to prosecute such studies successfully
one must subdue passion and folly — apparently a suggestive bit of
autobiography about Collins's student days.
13. porch. " The Porch " is strictly the name for the school of Zeno
the vStoic, because he was accustomed to meet his disciples in one of
the porches of the agora at Athens. But the term is used here for
Greek philosophy in general, with an allusion at the end to Plato.
14. th' enliv'ning olive's green. The olive was sacred to Athena,
the patron deity of Athens, the chief seat of Greek philosophy. Enliven-
ing seems to be merely pictorial, with no symbolic meaning.
1 5 . S cience == Philosophy.
16. Fancy. There may be an allusion to the poetic quality in Plato's
philosophical writings, but more probably the reference is to philosophy
in general as not consisting of pure reason, spite of its pretensions.
18. Plato's shade. The sly pun on " Plato " and " Pluto" is a neat
climax to this passage of humorous criticism of philosophy.
20. Observance. This personification is the stillborn twin brother
to Opinion in 1. 8.
116 NOTES. [57,58
29. The more common thought is of art as a mirror, reflecting the
realities of nature. Cf. Shakspere's "hold the mirror up to nature."
Collins, apparently, was led into the figure by thinking of the world as
a great spectacle, a phantasmagoria, in which things come and go inde-
pendent of the gazer's will, as in the old magic mirrors.
36. social Science, i.e., knowledge gained by mingling with society.
37-42. It is characteristic of Collins that he represents himself as no
sooner observing the real world than wishing to retire and dream over
what he has seen. The poet's sense for reality was slight. The whole
poem is a dream of " Observation " ; there is no real observation in it,
and in fact it soon openly passes to literature. " When he speaks of
studying the Manners, he had only laid down his Plato to take up Gil
Bias.''' — Mrs. Barbauld, Prefatory Essay to Collins's poems, London,
1797. But see the statement (p. xxviii) about his mimicking the pecul-
iarities of certain persons in London.
44. The introduction of Contempt as a spectator, in addition to
Fancy, is very sudden, and is merely a clumsy device for characterizing
some of the manners.
45, 46. white-rob'd maids . . . laughing satyrs. The interpreta-
tion, in the Colchester edition of Collins, that the former are the virtues
and the latter the vices, is more than doubtful. Satyrs were gross,
earthy, but not exactly vicious. May not " white-rob'd maids " stand
for the more spiritual characteristics of men, and '' laughing satyrs " for
their more earthly characteristics, merely natural and pleasure-loving
but not necessarily evil ? The evil manners have been sufficiently pun-
ished already by Contempt's looking at them through her glass.
48. wild contending hues. In contending is apparently an allusion
to the incongruity which is the basis of humor. IVild implies that the
humor referred to is of a vigorous sort, closely connected with the
passions ; cf. 1. 49.
51, 52. Since humor, the thing, exists among all nations, the posses-
sion of the word " humour " is no reason for calling Britain a " favor'd
isle."
55> 56. ' The image of Wit is truly characterized. The mingled
lustre of jewelry in his head-dress well describes the playful brilliancy
of those ideas which receive advantages from proximity to each other."
— Colchester edition of Collins, 1796.
58. In laughter loos'd. Dyce compares the Georgics, ii, 386: risu-
que solute.
59-74. T. Keightley in Azotes and Queries, 3d series, vol. XI, p. 350,
pointed out that the whole passage is an invocation to Nature, and
58] NOTES. 117
that consequently there should be no full stop until 1. 74. In the
original edition a blank space intervened between 1. 70 and 1. 71, but
1. 70 ended with a colon ; modern editions have aggravated the original
error by changing the colon to a period.
59. Miletus. Collins fancifully turns the ancient city where these
tales flourished into the author of them. The real author of most of
them was one Aristides.
60. love-inwoven song. The tales were not song, but they were
very much love-inwoven and highly indecent ; so tradition says, for the
tales themselves have perished. Collins follows Ovid in speaking of
them as songs :
Junxit Aristides Milesia carmina secum.
— Tristia, ii, 413.
But a better reading for ca^-miiia is c7-imiiia.
61. 62. The allusion, apparently, is to the writings of Boccaccio
{131 3-1 37 5), who lived much of his life in Florence, Tuscany.
changed, i.e., from ancient Italy. Cf. Ode to Sifiiplicity, 31-42.
63, 64. The popular notion was and is that chivalry, now become
a sentimental and fantastic anachronism, received its death-blow from
Cervantes (i 547-161 6), by his parody of it in the person and adventures
of his lovable cracked knight Don Quixote. Cf. Do)i Juan, canto xiii,
stanza ix :
Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away.
The real object of Cervantes's attack was not chivalry but the romances
of chivalry, which were still read and admired and even believed by his
countrymen. Chivalry as an institution w"as killed by the invention of
gunpowder.
66. Castilia's Moorish hills. Valladolid, where Cervantes prepared
the first part of Don Quixote for the press, is in Castile ; but the name
of the province may merely be used for Spain. Moorish alludes to the
conquest of Spain by the Moors in the Middle Ages.
68. watchet =/'«/^ blue ; see blue, 1. 67. The color is suggested by
that of the water in which the nymphs live. Cf. The Faerie Queette,
bk. iii, canto iv, stanza 40, where the reference is to sea nymphs :
Their watchet mantles fringed with silver round.
Dyce compares Drayton's Polyolbion, song v, 13 :
She in a watchet weed, with many a curious wave.
69, 70. The allusion is to the story of Blanche {Gil Bias, bk. iv,
chap, iv), whose father, from a sense of duty, compelled her to marry
118 NOTES. [58, 59
another, although she loved and was beloved by the king of Sicily ;
her jealous husband, mortally wounded by the king, stabbed her as she
held him in her arms. " At the time this ode was written the sticcess
of Thomson's Tancred and Stgismujida [1745] had probably made the
story of Blanche ... a favourite piece of reading." — Dyce.
71. Nature boon. In the Aldine Collitts the line is wrongly pointed,
with the comma after Nature. In the original edition the comma stood
after boon, as the sense requires ; boon is here an adjective, meaning
" prolific." Cf. Paradise Lost, iv, 242, 243 :
Nature boon
Poured forth profuse.
Collins invokes Nature, the bountiful source of all truth, to inspire him
as she had inspired Cervantes and the other writers mentioned.
THE PASSIONS. (59)
WooU prints a prose sketch by Joseph Warton, " laid out by him as
a subject for verse, at eighteen," which he thinks may have given
Collins the idea of this ode :
" The subjects of Reason having lately rebelled against him, he summons
them to his court, that they may pay their obedience to him ; whilst he sits on
his throne, attended by the Virtues, his handmaids. The first who made her
appearance was Fear, with Superstition, a pale-faced, trembling virgin, who came
from Gallia, and was ever present at earthquakes, fires, sieges, storms, and shud-
dered at every thing she saw. Not so .-^nger, whose harbinger was Cruelty, with
dishevelled hair ; and whose charioteer, Revenge, drove wheels reeking with
blood. He himself stood upright, ijrandishing a sword, and bearing a shield . . . ;
round his girdle he tied the head of an enemy just slaughtered, and his chariot
was drawn by tigers. Next came Joy, chanting a song, crowned with vine leaves,
waving a rod in his hand, at whose touch every thing smiled ; he was attended
by Mirth and Pleasure, two nymphs more light than Napaeans: he was the
institutor of feasts and dances amongst the shepherds, at a vintage, at marriages
and triumphs. Then came Sorrow, with a dead babe in her arms: — she was
often seen in charnels and by graves, listening to knells, or walking in the dead
of night, and lamenting aloud ; nor was she absent from dungeons and galley
slaves. After her Courage, a young man riding a lion, that chafed with indigna-
tion, yet was forced to submit. . . . He led Cowardice chained, who shuddered
violently whenever he heard the horn [of Courage], and would fain run away. . . .
Next came yKniulation, with harp and sword : he followed a phantom of Fame,
that he might snatch the crown she wore : he was accompanied by a beautiful
69] NOTES. 119
Amazon, called Hope, who with one hand pointed to the heavens, and in the
other held an optic which beautified and magnified every object to which it was
directed. Pity led her old father Despair, who tore his grey locks, and could
scarce move along for extreme misery ; she nursed him with her own milk, and
supported his steps, whilst bats and owls flew round his head. She frequents
fields of battle, protects the slain, and stanches their wounds with her veil and
hair. Next came Love, supported on each side by Friendship and Truth, but
not blind, as the poets feign. Behind came his enemies. Jealousy, who nursed a
vulture to feed on his own heart ; Hatred also, and Doubt shaking a dart behind
Love, who, on his turning round, immediately vanished. Honour, twined round
about with a snake, like Laocoon. Then Ambition in a chariot of gold, and
white horses, whose trappings were adorned with jewels, led by Esteem and
Flattery. Envy viewed him passing, and repined like a pard with a dart in his
side. Contempt, too, like a satyr, laeheld, and pointed with his finger ; but he
too often reviled Heaven, whence plagues, pestilences, wars, and famines. When
these were all met. Reason (sitting grander than Solomon), on whom the man
Justice, and the woman Temperance, attended, thus addressed them." — John
Wooll's Memoirs of J. IVarton, London, 1806, pp. 11-13.
The wide difference between poem and sketch, both in central con-
ception and in details, is evidence that Collins owed little to his friend's
outline. But at a few points the resemblance is striking enough to
make it probable that he had seen the prose sketch and took one or
two hints from it. In both poem and sketch Fear is the first passion
mentioned and Anger the second ; Joy is masculine, is crowned with
ivy, is attended by Mirth and another figure (Pleasure in the sketch,
Love in the poem), and is associated with the dance; Love and Hate
are both mentioned in connection with Jealousy.
T. Warton, in the note quoted in part on p. in, says that a
poem of J. Warton's entitled The Assembly of the Passions was written
before Collins's ode ; but there is no such poem among J. Warton's
published poems.
17-20. Cf. notes (pp. 97, 99) on the conception of Fear in the Ode
to Fear. Dyce remarks, " Perhaps he had an eye to the following lines
of Sir Philip Sidney :
A satyre once did runne away for dread
With sound of home, which he himselfe did blow ;
Fearing and fear'd, thus from himselfe he fled,
Deeming strange euill in that he did not know."
— Grosart's edition of Sidney, London, 1S77, vol. 11, p. 46.
26. sounds is either in apposition with measures (1. 25), or is gov-
erned by " with " understood.
120 NOTES. [60-65
35. The suggestion seems to be that Hope needs to be sustained by
some response from without.
36. her sweetest theme, presumably, is love. Including this line,
the poem contains three allusions to love, and perhaps this was the
reason why Collins did not give the passion more prominence in any
one place.
43. denouncing = rt;/«w/;/««_f. The Oxford Ettglish Dictionary
gives an example of this use of the word in 17 18: "An approaching
comet, denounced through every street, by the noisy hawkers."
75. oak-crown'd sisters. Wood-nymphs, attendant on Diana the
chaste-ey'd queen.
93, 94. Dyce compares Paradise Regained, ii, 362-365 ; Paradise
Lost, V, 286, 287 ; Pope's Eloisa to Abelard, 218 ; and Fairfax's transla-
tion of Tdisao's, Jerusalem Delivered, canto i, stanza 14:
And shook his wings with roarie May-dews wet.
114. St. Cecilia was the reputed inventor of the organ.
115-118. Cf. the Ode to Simplicity for a similar expression of admira-
tion for the simplicity of Greek art.
ODE ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON. (65)
James Thomson died on Aug. 27, 1748, at Richmond. The ode was
published as a thin folio in June, 1749 (see The Gentleinati's Magazine,
June, 1749, register of books; for title-page see p. Ixxx). The poem
was reprinted in The Union, in 1753.
I. grave. In Tlie Poetical Calendar, December, 1763, the reading is
grove, which has been adopted in some editions. There is no external
authority for this reading, and little internal. Druid, 1. i, might suggest
" grove," but it does not follow that Collins wrote '' grove." Sylvan,
1. 4, need not mean "in a wood," but simply " rural "; cf. rural tomb,
1. 40. Shade, 1. 8, might refer to the burial grove, but the reference may
be a general one to trees along the river's bank. These are certainly
insufficient grounds for rejecting as a misprint the reading of the two
editions published during Collins's lifetime. As internal evidence in
favor of grave see 11. 31, 32, and 1. 44, which is evidently meant to be a
repetition of 1. i.
druid. The appropriateness of this designation for the poet of
nature is obvious. Cf. Woodland Pilgrim's, 1. 12.
65-67] NOTES. 121
6. harp. See llie Castle of Indolence, canto i, stanzas 40, 41.
19. whit'ning spire. " Nor does there seem to be any local acquaint-
ance with the scenery, for the church of Richmond is not white nor a
spire, nor can it be seen from the river." — Mrs. Barbauld, Prefatory
Essay to Collins's poems, London, 1797.
21. earthy. In Langhorne's Collins, iw 1765, the word was changed,
apparently by a typographical error, to " earthly." This reading, which
has no authority and makes poor sense, has been reproduced in many
editions down to within recent years.
26. pale shrine. Mrs. Barbauld, writing in 1797, said there was yet
no monument to Thomson in the Richmond churchyard.
30. now, i.e., nowadays ; in contrast with the poetical days of old,
when water-nymphs found cool lodgings in the Thames.
31. Now, i.e., at this moment. The use of the word in two senses in
succeeding lines seems a slight blemish.
38. early doom is the language of affection ; Thomson was forty-
eight years old.
AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS OF THE
HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. (67)
This ode has had a peculiar history. It was not published during
Collins's lifetime. The earliest public reference to it is the following
sentence in Johnson's Life of Collins, in his Lives of the English Poets,
in 1779 • " ^^^ showed to them [the Wartons], at the same time, an ode
inscribed to Mr. John Home, on the superstitions of the Highlands ;
which they thought superior to his other works, but which no search
has yet found." The manuscript of the poem had been accidentally
found, several years before, by Dr. Carlyle, a Scotch clergyman, who in
1784 read it at a meeting of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. In 1788
it was printed in the Transactiojis of the Society, with the following
introduction :
" At a meeting of the Literary Class of the Royal Society, held on Monday,
19th April, 1784, the Rev. Dr. Carlyle read an ode, written by the late Mr. William
Collins, and addressed to John Home, Esq. (author of Douglas, etc.) on his
return to Scotland in 1749. The committee appointed to superintend the publica-
tion of the Society's Transactions, having judged this ode to be extremely deserv-
ing of a place in that collection, requested Mr. Alex. Eraser Tytler, one of their
number, to procure from Dr. Carlyle every degree of information which he could
give concerning it. This information, which forms a proper introduction to the
poem itself, is contained in the two following letters.
122 NOTES. [«7
' Letter from Mr. Alex. Fraser Tytler to Mr. John Robison, General Secretary
of the Royal Society of Edinburgh.
' Dear Sir,
' At the desire of the committee for publishing the Royal Society's Transac-
tions, I wrote to Dr. Carlyle, requesting of him an account of all such particulars
regarding Mr. Collins's poem as were known to him, and which were, in his
opinion, proper to be communicated to the public. I received from him the
inclosed answer, and he transmitted to me, at the same time, the original manu-
script in Mr. Collins's handwriting.i It is evidently the prima cura of the
poem, as you will perceive from the alterations made in the manuscript, by delet-
ing many lines and words, and substituting others, which are written above them.
In particular, the greatest part of the twelfth stanza is new-modelled in that
manner. These variations I have marked in notes on the copy which is inclosed,
and I think they should be printed : for literary people are not indifferent to
information of this kind, which shews the progressive improvement of a thought
in the mind of a man of genius. [Mr. Tytler goes on to say that this is doubt-
less the poem referred to by Johnson in his Life of Collins. At Tytler's sugges-
tion Mr. Henry Mackensie supplied the fifth stanza and half of the sixth.]
' I am, dear sir, yours, etc'
' To Alex. Fraser Tytler, Esq. :
'Sir,
' I send you inclosed the original manuscript of Mr. Collins's poem, that, by
comparing with it the copy which I read to the Society, you may be able to
answer most of the queries put to me by the committee of the Royal Society.
' The manuscript is in Mr. Collins's handwriting, and fell into my hands
among the papers of a friend of mine and Mr. John Home's, who died as long ago
as the year 1754. Soon after I found the poem, I shewed it to Mr. Home, who
told me that it had been addressed to him by Mr. Collins, on his leaving London
in the year 1749 : that it was hastily composed and incorrect : but that he would
one day find leisure to look it over with care. Mr. Collins and Mr. Home had
been made acquainted by Mr. John Barrow (the cordial youth mentioned in the
first stanza), who had been, for some time, at the University of Edinburgh ; had
been a volunteer, along with Mr. Home, in the year 1746 ; had been taken pris-
oner with him at the battle of Falkirk, and had escaped, together with him and
five or six other gentlemen, from the Castle of Down. Mr. Barrow resided in
1749 at Winchester, where Mr. Collins and Mr. Home were, for a week or two,
together on a visit. Mr. Barrow was paymaster in America, in the war that
commenced in 1756, and died in that country.
' I thought no more of the poem, till a few years ago, when, on reading Dr.
Johnson's Life of Collins, I conjectured that it might te the very copy of .verses
which he mentions, which he says was so much prized by some of his friends, and
' Recent inquiries by the present editor at the rooms of the Royal Society, at the
University of EdinburRh, and at the home of a surviving relative of Dr. Carlyle, near
Edinburgh, have failed to discover any trace of the manuscript.
67] NOTES. 123
for the loss of which he expresses regret. I sought for it among my papers ; and
perceiving that a stanza and a half were wanting, I made the most diligent search
I could for them, but in vain. Whether or not this great chasm was in the poem
when it first came into my hands, is more than I can remember, at this distance
of time.
' As a curious and valuable fragment, I thought it could not appear with more
advantage than in the collection of the Royal Society.
' 1 am, sir,
' Your most obedient servant,
' Alex. Carlyle.' "
The Transactio7is appeared, evidently, toward the end of March.
They were noticed in The London Chronicle of April 1-3, 1788, and
in IJie Europeaji Magazine for April, 1788, which refers to them as
"just published." A few weeks later there came out, in London, from
the press of J. Bell, what purported to be a perfect copy of the ode as
revised by Collins. This edition had the following preface and
dedication :
" A gentleman who, for the present, chooses not to publish his name, discovered
last summer the following admirable Ode, among some old papers, in the con-
cealed drawers of a bureau, left him, among other articles, by a relation. The
title struck him. The perusal delighted him. He communicated his valuable
discovery to some literary friends, who advised him to publish it the ensuing
winter. Mr. Collins, it would appear, by his great intimacy with Mr. Home, and
his well-known predilection for Spenser and Tasso, made himself a master in the
marvellous that characterized the rude ages. No wonder, then, that he paints
the superstitious notions of the North so picturesquely poetical! By the public
prints we are informed, that a Scotch clergyman lately discovered Collins's
rude draught of this poem. It is however said to be very imperfect. The Vth
stanza, and the half of the Vlth, say the prints, being deficient, has been supplied
by Mr. Mackensie. It has been published in some of these diurnal papers ; and is
here annexed, as a note, for the purpose of comparison, and to do justice to the
elegant author of The Man of Feeling. It is undoubtedly pretty ; but wants all
the wild boldness of the original, which is certainly one of the most beautiful
poems in the English language."
" To the Wartons.
" Gentlemen,
" The following Poem, being the long-lost treasure of your favourite Collins, is
apology sufficient for dedicating it to you. Your mentioning it to Dr. Johnson,
as it was the means that led to the imperfect first draught, so it likewise was
the happy means of bringing this perfect copy to light. If the smallest poetic
124 NOTES. [67
gem be admired by you, how much more must you exult, on being put in posses-
sion of the brightest jewel, according to your own opinions, of your dear departed
friend ? The world will no doubt, in this, soon join issue with you both, whose
talents do honour to your country.
" Gentlemen, I am, with great regard, your Literary Admirer,
" The Editor."
This anonymous edition came out, evidently, in May : it was reviewed
in The English Review for May, 1788, which was announced, in The
London Chronicle of May 27-29, as forthcoming on June 2. A second
edition appeared in 1789; but the editor still chose "not to publish his
name," and it is unknown to this day.
The anonymous edition did not escape contemporary suspicion, as
the following quotations will show:
" A person, ' who chooses not to publish his name,' has been lucky enough to
find this ode — after it had already been discovered in Scotland, and published in
the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinbtirgh ! The time of this anony-
mous gentleman's publication renders his story suspicious; and the internal
proof drawn from his edition of the ode will condemn him before every literary
tribunal. Wherever his ' perfect copy ' departs from the Scotch prototype its '
inferiority vs, perfectly conspicuous. This faber imus is unhappy in thus blend-
ing his lead with more precious metal ; but industry is a commendable quality,
and the editor might have pressing occasions for the production of an eighteen-
penny pamphlet. . . . We consider literary imposition in a serious light ; and
a cheat is not less so because he is a bungler in his profession. Even should this
editor alledge, with the needy apothecary, ' My poverty, but not my will, con-
sents,' we must still consider him as a criminal." — The English Rei'icw, May,
1788.
" This is offered to the public as a perfect copy of Mr. Collins's beautiful ode.
If it is, indeed, complete, it is to be lamented that the e-eidence of its authenticity
is withheld from the public. Surely the gentleman, who found it in ' the
drawers of a bureau,' should allow his name to be published, and give us the sat-
isfaction of knowing whether it was in the handwriting of Mr. Collins; which is,
certainly, a material question. . . . The style [of stanza 5 and the first half of
stanza 6] does not seem, to us, to be in the manner of Collins." — The Monthly
Review, December, 1788.
But the text of the anonymous edition was adopted in Johnson's
English Poets, 1790; in Anderson's Poets of Great Britain, 1794,
although in his sketch of Collins's life Anderson expresses doubt of the
authenticity ; in Park's British Poets, 1805; and in Chalmers's English
Poets, 18 ID, although, oddly enough, in a note to Collins's life in Chal-
mers's Biographical Dictionary, in 1813, the reader is warned against '
the anonymous edition as " spurious." The only edition of Collins
67] NOTES. 125
which rejected the anonymous text altogether was that published at
Colchester in 1796 ; in this the Traiisactiotis text is followed, except
that the gaps are filled in by the editor himself. The Geneva edition of
Collins, in 1832, left stanza 5 and the first half of stanza 6 blank, but in
the rest of the poem adopted the readings of the anonymous edition.
Mr. Swinburne, in Ward's English Poets, vol. Ill, with characteristic
abandon speaks of the ode as "villainously defaced ... by the most
impudent interpolations on record " ; yet prints in the text many of
these same interpolations, ascribing some, vaguely, to " the later edi-
tions," and leaving others without any mark to distinguish them from
the original text.
The present edition, it is believed, is the first in this century to print
the ode in its fragmentary form. The rejection of the generally adopted
text requires justification, although in the first instance the burden of
proof lay on the defenders of the anonymous text.
It is only fair to premise that a revised copy of the ode probably did
exist at one time. The copy which the Wartons saw would naturally
be a revision of the first rude draught made five years before, unless
CoUins's mental malady, which came on soon after, had prevented
revision. And there is direct, although somewhat suspicious, evidence
that a perfect copy did exist. Soon after the ode was published in the
Transactions, there appeared in The [London] St. James Chronicle^ a
letter signed " Verax," containing the following extract from a letter by
T. Warton to Mr. William liymers, whose papers Verax says he has
seen :
" ' In T754, I and my brother, Dr. Warton, visited Collins at Chichester, where
he lived in the cathedral cloisters with his sister. Here he showed us an ode to
Mr. Home, on his return from England to Scotland in 1749, '^'^ o^ the most
striking superstitious imagery. It was in his own handwriting, without a single
interpolation or hiatus, and had every appearance of the author's last revisal,
and of a copy carefully and completely finished for the press. I offered to take it
with me to town,' etc. . . . On the whole [says Verax] we may conclude that
the Edinburgh copy is nothing more than a foul and early draught of this
composition."
This would be conclusive but for a singular circumstance. This same
letter by T. Warton was published in The Reaper in 1797, and reprinted
in The Gleaner in 181 1 (see p. xi); and the reprint in The Gleaner, at
least, does not contain the passage about the state of the manuscript,
1 The letter cannot be found in the files of The St. James Chronicle in the Kritish
Museum, from which several issues are wanting. The transcript in Dyce's Collins has
been used in this edition.
126 NOTES. [67
although it purports to be the entire letter. Ragsdale's letter about
Collins (see p. xi) was very carelessly printed in The Gleaner, and it is
possible that Warton's letter suffered even worse ; but the passage is an
important and striking one, and if it really were in the original its "omis-
sion is very singular. Furthermore, the two versions of the letter, even
in the statements which they have in common, sometimes agree ver-
batim and sometimes agree only in substance, as the following excerpt
from the letter as published in The Gleaner will show when compared
with the above :
" The same year, in September, I and my brother visited him at Chichester,
where he lived in the cathedral cloisters, with his sister. . . . Here he showed us
an Ode to Mr. John Home, on his leaving England for Scotland, in the octave
stanza, very long, and beginning, ' Home, thou return'st from Thames ! ' I
remember there was a beautiful description of the spectre of a man drowned in
the night, or, in the language of the old Scotch superstitions, seized by the angry
spirit of the waters."
Some of the changes in Verax's version may have been made to
secure clearness in the passage when wrenched from its context, as " In
1754 " for " The same year." But others cannot be so explained ; they
appear rather to result from quoting from memory.
This curious state of things, taken in connection with the facts which
are to follow, tempt one to a surmise which in the absence of proof
must be put forth as a surmise only and not as a part of the serious
argument against the genuineness of the anonymous edition. Is it pos-
sible that "Verax" and the anonymous editor were one and the same,
some needy literary adventurer recently from Oxford, perhaps, who
had there seen Hymer's papers .' Did he, as Verax, quote loosely from
memory for a few lines, and then forge the passage about the state of
the manuscript ? In brief, was the letter to The St. Ja/nes Chronicle a
clever advertising dodge, preparing the mind of the public for the
appearance of the anonymous edition soon after }
The only bit of external evidence in favor of the anonymous edition
— its dedication to the Wartons, and their silence — really amounts to
nothing. Could the two brothers, now in their old age, be expected
to remember the exact language of a long poem seen only once, thirty-
four years before ? On the other hand, the adverse external evidence
consists of several particulars, separately inconclusive but cumulative
in effect.
The times were favorable for such a forgery. Literary morals were
lax and the critical spirit was comparatively feeble. Literary imposture
67] NOTES. 127
was in the air. To mention only tlie more prominent cases, Macpher-
son's Ossian and the Rowley Poems of Chatterton had appeared less
than a generation before, and had met, for a time, with encouraging
success ; while a few years later the Ireland forgeries were to be a nine
days' wonder. There was no such presumption against literary impos-
ture as obtains now.
The moment of the second text's appearance is suspicious. An
imperfect form of a poem by a poet already famous is published and
attracts considerable notice. A few weeks later, just in time to get the
full advantage of this newly awakened interest, comes out another form
of the poem, purporting to be the author's perfected copy. If the
second form of the poem was really meant for a neat little stroke of
business by some needy literary adventurer, it certainly could not have
been better timed.
The fact that the edition was and remained anonymous tells heavily
against it. If the editor had a genuine document, it is diiificult to con-
ceive why he should lurk in the dark. On the other hand, if he was an
impostor, the motive for anonymity is obvious ; awkward inquiries for
a sight of the manuscript were thereby avoided. Especially, why should
an honest man, with good evidence of his honesty, persist in uttering
no syllable of defence after one prominent review had called for the
evidence and another had branded him as a " cheat " and a " criminal " ?
If the statements in his preface were true, how easily, by the testi-
mony of his " literary friends," the editor could have established the
fact that he had had the manuscript in his possession months before
the Transactio)is edition of the ode was published. Or, if the manu-
script were in Collins's handwriting, as would be most likely, why did
he not submit it to the Wartons for identification instead of merely
dedicating his edition to them with politic flattery ? This is what an
honest man would naturally have done under fire. An impostor would
as naturally have remained concealed. In the first edition the editor
had intimated that his secrecy was only " for the present " ; yet even
the opportunity of a second edition did not tempt him to come out into
the open, show his proofs, and refute his accusers.
The nameless editor's account of the finding of the manuscript is
suspicious. It sounds like a sentence from a cheap romance. We
have heard before of " old papers " and " concealed drawers of a bureau "
and obliging " relations " who die and leave unexpected treasures behind.
It is all too vague for truth. Who was the relative, what had been his
connections, by what train of circumstances was it probable or even
possible that one of Collins's manuscripts could have got into his
128 NOTES. [67
bureau ? Why is the manuscript not described ? The preface suffers
greatly if compared with the actions and letter of Dr. Carlyle. The
latter found his manuscript among the papers of a friend who was also
a friend of Home. He showed the manuscript to Home, who recognized
it as Collins's. Later he read the poem before a learned society and
submitted the manuscript to a committee of the society for inspection
and publication. These are the words and deeds of an honest man
with a genuine document. The preface of the anonymous edition and
the course of the editor are of a different savor.
Further, the latter part of the preface contains deliberate falsehood,
and is meant to mislead. The intention clearly is to give the impres-
sion that the editor has not seen the Transactions text of the poem.
He has been " informed " by the " public prints " that a first draught of
the poem has been found ; it is " said " to be very imperfect ; a stanza
and a half, " say the prints," are missing, and Dr. Mackensie's lines,
filling the gap, have been published in " some of these diurnal papers."
The implication is plain that the editor knows nothing of the Trans-
actions edition save what he has learned from the daily papers. The
motive is obvious. If he has never seen the Transactions text, and
yet has a manuscript identical with it, except for some revisions
and additions, his version must be an original and not a forgery.
Now, in the first place, the anonymous editor would have had no
difficulty in getting the first volume of the Transactions, which was
for sale in London (see p. Ixxxii). And, furthermore, the Trans-
actions text of the ode, with the introduction and notes, had been
reprinted in The [London] European Magazine for April. It is altogether
improbable that a gentleman with " literary friends " should not have
seen the newly discovered ode which even the daily papers were talking
about.
In the second place, the anonymous edition carries plain evidence
in itself that the editor had seen the 7ransactions edition, for he stole
most of his notes from it. With a few insignificant exceptions, such
as the statement that glens are valleys, his notes on lines common to
the two editions contain no information not in the notes or introduction
of the Transactions edition ; and in several instances the plagiarism is
obvious, the more obvious for the variations in the wording. The fol-
lowing instances are but two out of several about equally conclusive :
67] NOTES. 129
Transactions Edition. Anonymous Edition.
" On the largest of the Flannan
Islands (Isles of the Hebrides) are the
ruins of a chapel. . . . One of the " One of the Hebrides is called the
Flannan Islands is termed the Isle of Isle of Pigmies, where it is reported
Pigmies; and Martin says there have that several miniature bones of the
been many small bones dug up there, human species have been dug up in
resembling in miniature those of the the ruins of a chapel there." — Note
human body." — Note to 1. 142. to 1. 142.
" The island of lona or Icolmkill. " Icolmkill, one of the Hebrides,
See Martin's Description of the West- where near sixty of the ancient Scot-
ern Islatids of Scotland. That author tish, Irish, and Norwegian kings are
informs us that forty-eight kings of interred." — Note to 1. 148.
Scotland, four kings of Ireland, and
five of Norway, were interred in the
Church of St. Ouran in that island."
— Note to 1. 14S.
In the second note, the anonymous edition follows the Transactions
note even in an error. Martin really says (see p. 134) that eight
kings of Norway were buried on the island, which makes a total of just
sixty. But the anonymous editor, although lie had only been "informed "
by "the public prints" about the Transactions edition, by literary
telepathy knew and adopted its mistake oi Jive kings for eight, and
neatly condensed its false total of fifty-seven into the phrase " near
sixty."
Of course it does not follow that because the editor lied in one par-
ticular he lied in all. He might foolishly have tried to gain credence
by deception for a genuine manuscript. But his deceitfulness in one
point greatly damages his trustworthiness as a witness on the main
question.
The internal evidence, on the whole, also makes against the anony-
mous edition.
It is a suspicious circumstance that, with thirteen exceptions, the
later text differs from the earlier only where there were gaps to be
filled. The exceptions are not only few but mostly trifling, such as
a change from plural to singular ; and in several cases they appear like
corrections of what one man might take to be mere slips of the mind
or pen in another man's work, such as brawny for bony (1. 51), drooping
for dropping (1. 127), helpless for hapless (1. 135), and scented iox sainted
(1. 164). Now, we know from Thomas Warton that Collins was "per-
130 NOTES. [67
petually changing his epithets." Is it probable that in this long poem
his final revision of an imperfect first draught would show so few and
so insignificant changes ?
As to the quality of the new readings, some are adroit and not what
one would expect from an impostor. Such is skill for stile in 1. 138,
a change which was not needed and which spoils the rhyme. Was it
done for a blind ? A bolder stroke is the conception of stanza 5, which
turns away from the obvious line of thought, such as Mackensie followed
in his substitute, and deals with history, especially with the battles of the
Young Pretender. If this be forgery, it certainly is not commonplace
forgery. On the other hand, could a shrewd forger do better than
depart as far as possible from the thought in the verses already supplied
by Mackensie, and so emphasize the contrast between the admittedly
fictitious and the professedly genuine ? Hints for the stanza might
easily have been got from the Ode Written in the Beginning of the Year
1746, Ode to Peace, and the Ode to a Lady, all of which refer to the
campaign of the Young Pretender, while the last contains a compliment
to William, Duke of Cumberland, by name. (It may be remarked, in
passing, that Collins would have been less likely to praise the duke in
1749 than in 1746. At the earlier date the duke's laurels were fresh
upon him and his praise was in every one's mouth ; at the later date
he had recently suffered defeat in battle and his popularity was on the
wane.) Furthermore, just as the Transactions edition supplied the
anonymous editor with the material for most of his notes, so, curiously
enough, the letter of Dr. Carlyle contains a sentence which might
have suggested the subject-matter for the fifth stanza: "Mr. Collins
and Mr. Home had been made acquainted by Mr. John Barrow, . . .
who . . . had been a volunteer, along with Mr. Home, in the year
1746; had been taken prisoner with him at the battle of Falkirk, and
had escaped, together with him and five or six other gentlemen, from
the Castle of Down." On the other hand, it should in fairness be
admitted that Home's participation in the war makes it more probable
that Collins would allude to it by way of compliment to his friend.
Some of the new readings are rather pretty, and at least two, those
in 11. 177 and 213, have something of Collins's characteristic manner.
But, as will be shown soon, several of the best expressions do not fit
well into their places, and none of them is beyond the skill of a clever
literary adventurer, such as the editor probably was.
Still a third class of readings are wretched. Is it probable that
Collins would have written, or at least would have let stand, in a revised
copy, such lines as the following .'
67] NOTES. 131
To monarchs dear, some hundred miles astray,
Oft have they seen Fate give the fatal blow !
The seer, in Sky, shrieked as the blood did flow.
When headless Charles warm on the scaffold lay !
In the first year of the first George's reign.
Hence, at each picture, vivid life starts here !
But argument from the merit of lines is hazardous, particularly
as Collins's workmanship, in this poem and elsewhere, is uneven. An
author is usually credited, however, with understanding his own thought.
If, therefore, several of the new readings can be shown to imply a
misunderstanding or an imperfect understanding of the thought, the
proof will be pretty strong that the readings are not from the hand
of the author. Now, it is a striking fact that in several instances the
articulation of the new readings to the context is thus defective.
In 1. 23 bowl is changed to bowls, apparently because the reviser
thought, mistakenly, that one bowl would not do for "tribes." But
in the next line it remains unchanged. It might possibly be taken to
refer to sto7-e, but bowl is the more natural antecedent. It looks very
much as if the anonymous editor forgot to change the context to match
with his first change. Of course the error in revision might have
been Collins's, but he is elsewhere scrupulous about his grammar, and,
although often involved, is almost never incorrect.
In 1. 107, where hums the sedgy weed is well enough by itself, but it
does not complete the sentence; the verb which should govern w/z^w
(1. 105) and the verb's subject are both wanting. This is not like Col-
lins. Compare the Ode on the Poetical Character, in which the syntax,
although very complex, is very careful. Collins would never have left
who77i to its fate when it had straggled only two lines to the rear.
Line 177, in the anonymous edition, is pretty, but it would be more
appropriate if the reference were to A Midsummer-Night'' s Dreatn
instead of to the grim play of Macbeth. This objection loses force,
however, \i fairy be understood in its broader sense, as in The Faerie
Qitce7ie, and \i fancy be taken to mean " imagination." The more solid
argument is that the inserted line does not harmonize grammatically
with the context. It should be noted, in considering this point, that in
the Carlyle manuscript there was no blank space between 1. 176 and
1. 178. The note in the Transactions edition says, " There is apparently
a line wanting." Only by the rhyme-scheme was the omission discov-
erable, and perhaps Collins himself did not notice the irregularity or
was indifferent to it; stanzas 12 and 13 were also each a line short,
while stanza 2 had an extra line. At any rate, stanza 11 made sense
132 NOTES. [67,68
and was grammatical as it stood in the manuscript. There refers to
historic page z.nd goes, wi'ith. found. The sentence thus ran as follows :
' There,' i.e., in the old histories of Scotland, ' Shakespeare, in musing
hour, found his wayward sisters, and with their terrors dressed the
magic scene.' There was no hiatus in the thought, to be filled in later,
as in the imperfect half-lines of the poem. Whether Collins, upon
revision, would have inserted a line to make the rhyme-scheme regular,
we cannot say. But if he had inserted a line he certainly would not
have done it as it is done in the anonymous edition. For by the
inserted line there is wrenched from its verb found and is left isolated
and useless, its place in the new sentence being taken by to those fairy
climes. This inserted line is not a careful poet's revision of his own
work. It is a wedge thrust by a bungler into another man's sentence,
which it rudely splits apart.
For the foregoing reasons ther text of the anonymous edition is here
dislodged from the place of honor which it has usurped so long, and
relegated to the pillory of foot-notes, where it may be gazed upon by the
eyes of the curious.
I. H . John Home. (See Dr. Carlyle's letter.) Home was a
Scotch clergyman, a friend of Blair, Robertson, and Hume. He came
to London about the end of the year 1749, with the tragedy of Agis,
which Garrick refused. It was at this time that he met Collins.
4, Home's tragedy of Douglas, after being declined by Garrick in
1755, was acted with great success on the Edinburgh stage in 1756. He
afterwards wrote several other plays.
5. that cordial youth. John Barrow, by whom Collins and Home
had been made acquainted. (See Dr. Carlyle's letter.)
17. own thy genial land, i.e., acknowledge it as their country.
18. Doric = sim/le, natural; cf. 1. 33.
23, swart tribes are Brownies. Collins doubtless learned a good
deal about the folk-lore of Scotland from Home himself; see 11. 184,
185. But he probably had read, very likely at Home's suggestion,
M. Martin's Description of the Western Islands of Scotland, in which
(London ed., 1716, p. 391) is a reference to the Brownie and the custom,
in the Shetland Islands, of rewarding him for his work by pouring
" some Milk and Wort through the Hole of a Stone, called Browny's
Stone." But Collins must have been familiar with English folk-lore on
the same subject, and especially with Milton's lines in L' Allegro, 105, 106:
how the drudging goblin sweat
To earn his cream bowl, duly set.
His indebtedness to Martin is more evident in later passages.
68-72] NOTES. 133
24-30. " A Spirit, by the Country People call'd Broivny, was fre-
quently seen in all the most considerable Families in the Isles and
North of Scotland, in the shape of a tall Man. . . . There were Spirits
also that appear'd in the shape of Women, Horses, Swine, Cats, and
some like fiery Balls, which would follow Men in the Fields. . . . These
Spirits us'd also to form Sounds in the Air, resembling those of a Harp,
Pipe, Crowing of a Cock, and of the grinding of Querns: and some-
times they have heard Voices in the Air by Night, singing Irish Songs."
— Martin, pp. 334, 335.
39. had = would have.
48. shiel. " A kind of hut, built for a summer habitation to the
herdsmen, when the cattle are sent to graze in distant pastures." — Note
in Transactions edition.
57-69. " The Second-sight is a singular Faculty of Seeing an other-
wise invisible Object. . . . The Vision makes such a lively impression
upon the Seers, that they neither see nor think of anything else, except
the Vision, so long as it continues : and then they appear pensive or
jovial, according to the object which was represented to them." —
Martin, p. 300.
" Daniel Dow . . . foretold the death of a young woman in Minginis,
within less than twenty-four hours before the time ; and accordingly
she died suddenly in the Fields, though at the time of the Prediction
she was in perfect Health." — Martin, p. 321.
68. heartless ^a'/j-wfl'jj't'a'; cf. 1. 58.
118. As a feeble anticlimax the line is curiously like 1. 20 in Eclogue
the Second.
121-124. Cf. Gray's Elegy., 21-24.
125-132. Mrs. Barbauld compares Ovid's Afetamorphoses, xi, 654-
658:
Luridus, exsangui similis, sine vestibus ullis,
Conjugis ante torum miserae stetit : uda videtur
Barba viri, madidisque gravis fluere unda capillis.
Turn lecto incumbens, fletu super ora refuse,
Haec ait.
126. travelPd. Cf. 1. 122.
137. kaelpie's. " A name given in Scotland to a supposed spirit of
the waters." — Note in the T-ansactions edition.
142-145. " There are also some small chapels here [on the island of
Benbecula]. . . . The Natives have lately discover'd a Stone Vault
on the East-side of the town, in which there are abundance of small
Bones, which have occasion'd many uncertain conjectures ; some said
134 NOTES. [72-75
they were the Bones of Birds, others judg'd them rather to be the
Bones of Pigmies." — Martin, p. 82.
146, 147. " At some distance south of St. Mary's is St. Ouran's
Church [in the island of lona]. . . . On the South-side of the Church
... is the Burial-place in which the Kings and Chiefs of Tribes are
buried. . . . The middlemost had written on it. The Tombs of the
Kings of Scotland ; of which forty-eight lie there. Upon that on the
right hand was written, The Tombs of the Kings of Ireland ; of which
four were buried here. And upon that on the left hand was written,
The Kings- of Norway ; of which eight were buried here." — Martin,
pp. 260, 261.
155-171. "[St. Kilda] is the remotest of all the vScots North-West
Isles : It is about two Miles in length, and one in breadth ; it is fac'd
all round with a steep Rock. . . . [The inhabitants] swear decisive
Oaths by the Crucifix, and this puts an end to any Controversy; for
there is not one Instance, or the least Suspicion, of Perjury among
them. . . . They never swear or steal ; . . . they are free from Whore-
dom and Adultery, and from those other Immoralities that abound so
much every where else. . . . The Solan Goose is in size somewhat
less than a Land-Goose. . . . The Solan Geese are daily making up
their Xests from March till September ; they make 'em in the Shelves
of high Rocks. . . . The inhabitants of St. Kilda excel all those I ever
saw in climbing Rocks. . . . This little Commonwealth hath two Ropes
of about twenty-four Fathoms length each, for climbing the Rocks. . . .
These poor People do sometimes fall down as they climb the Rocks,
and perish." — Martin, pp. 280-295, passim.
169. tasteful toil, i.e., appetizing toil, which makes even their
" frugal fare " taste well.
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