I
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL,
 
 THE LAY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FIRST MINSTREL 
 
 BY JAMES GROCOTT 
 
 Author of " Almedo," "Reactions," &c. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY JOHN 
 
 ILoni) on: 
 
 RICHARDSON, ROYAL EXCHANGE. 
 
 BY A. FOSTER, KIRKBY LONSDALE, 
 
 And by the Liverpool booksellers. 
 
 182L
 
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 PR 
 
 TKE 
 
 LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTEEL: 
 
 ^ I3ucm» 
 
 I. 
 
 The seraph's harp of golden string. 
 Was tuned to the Eternal King ; 
 Angelic chorus rang on high. 
 In loud and grateful melody ; 
 The sky shone full in radiance bright. 
 As God pronounced — " let there be light. 
 Then chaos sunk, and darkness fled. 
 Whilst light and order, in their stead. 
 Assumed their mild and welcome sway^ 
 On new creation's first born day* 
 
 s 
 
 853611 
 
 »r
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 II. 
 
 *' Let there Bt light!" — No sooner spoke 
 Than instantly tlie darkness broke ; 
 The >vord scarce uttered than 'twas done : 
 The eartli, the sea, the splendid sun, 
 The fair and beauteous orb of night. 
 The spangled host, the stars of light. 
 The lofty mountain's craggy brow. 
 The verdant vales which smiled below — 
 All rose to being at the word — 
 They heard his voice — and knew their Lord. 
 
 III. 
 
 'Twas then, when all creation sung, 
 And angels' harps in heaven were strung; 
 'Twas when the cherubim's sweet lyre 
 Was struck with hands of purest fire; 
 When heavenly hosts proclaiined their God 
 Who formed creation by his nod ; 
 AVhen verdure green was spread around 
 The smiling and luxurious ground ; 
 That was complete, the wondrous plan. 
 When breathed the first created man.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIUST MINSTREL. S 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet not ordained to be complete 
 Without a partner^ '' helpmate meet;" 
 And fancy whispers in my ear. 
 That seraphs in the heavenly sphere. 
 Moulded sweet woman's form alone 
 In face and figure like their own ; 
 And made, to lull the man to rest, 
 A swelling pillow of her breast— 
 Oh ! sad for memory to recal 
 How high 'twas made— how low to fall ! 
 
 It boots not here the tale to tell 
 How Eve beguiled — how Adam fell- 
 How soon the subtle serpent found 
 The weakest heart on sweetest ground- 
 How soon the Almighty's blasting breath 
 Denounced the doom of man in death ! 
 Ah ! woman, tho' thou'rt lovely still. 
 And bendest man against his will. 
 There may be hate beneath thy smile— 
 And love, a pass-word to beguile. 
 
 b2
 
 THE LAV OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Well is it known— well understood. 
 That curse was sealed with Abel's blood ; 
 Th' unsullied earth received the stain 
 Of brother's blood from murderous Cain. 
 The thorns and thistles choke the field 
 Which nought but verdure erst could yield ; 
 The poisonous vermin crawl the ground. 
 The stinking insects buz around— 
 Man, canst thou find a calm abode. 
 When Paradise is lost, with God ? 
 
 VII. 
 
 No rest for Adam, for he uiourned. 
 As from sweet Eden's bowers he turned, 
 (The world was wide—the pastures fair,) 
 That God no longer lingered there.— 
 Now rising cloud and peltiug storm 
 The face of heaven and earth deform- 
 How like that anxious, troubled breast 
 Which, heaving ever, knows no rest. 
 From every joy and comfort driven. 
 Are those who quit the path of heaven.
 
 -x 
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 VIII. 
 
 Ye verdant vales, ye towering hills. 
 
 Ye streaming rivers, murmuring rills. 
 
 Ye happy days, ye silver hours. 
 
 Ye fruitful trees, ye blushing flowers. 
 
 How blighted, how forsaken all 
 
 Since Eve's transgression — Adam's fall ; 
 
 Too deep to scan, yet oh ! they fell 
 
 From life to death — from heaven to hell !- 
 
 Unbounded was destruction's scope 
 
 When every blessing fled with hope. 
 
 IX. 
 
 As holy legends bear the talc. 
 
 Fast did the race of man prevail ; 
 
 And now lost mortals, born to sin, 
 
 To study wickedness begin. 
 
 Yet early in that day did spring 
 
 A youth who caught the art to sing. 
 
 Touched by a soft angelic fire 
 
 He tuned the harp, and strung the lyre. 
 
 Who first on earth heaven's sounds begun- 
 
 Lamech! I sinf*- thv tuneful son.
 
 6 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 Genial, I wot^ was that sweet morn 
 When JuBAL_, Lameclrs son, was born ; 
 The birds in carols, sung the lay 
 Which ushered in the Minstrel's day ; 
 The zephyr and the murmuring breeze 
 Just moved, or gently kissed, the trees ; 
 A silver sound from falling rills. 
 Came sweetly from the distant hills ; 
 And, when the night shade closed the day. 
 The nightingale took up the lay. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Spirit of Jubal-— enter mine. 
 
 Whilst penning the fictitious line^ 
 
 And fancy prompts me to rehearse 
 
 Thy first heard songs in humble verse ; 
 
 Bid thou imagination's pen 
 
 To bring thy lyre to life again. 
 
 To say what power thy harp had strung. 
 
 And what the numbers thou hadst sung ; 
 
 Restoring to our living ears, 
 
 The memory of live thousand years.
 
 THE LAV OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The soul of Jiibal formed of love. 
 Was pure and spotless as the dove, 
 A sweetness hung upon his tongue. 
 His breath was soft— his voice, a sono- • 
 The race of Adam lent the ear. 
 And left their toil, his strain to hear. 
 The birds w ere silent on the spray. 
 Attentive to the Minstrel's Lay, 
 For lyre of brass from Tubal Cain 
 Accompanied his heavenly strain. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 'Tvvas on a lovely summer's morn, 
 Where flowing streams the vale adorn, 
 ^Mid mountains rising- to the sky. 
 Where echo gives a quick reply. 
 Close by a fountain's cooling spring. 
 That Jubal tuned his lyre to sing — 
 Since earth's creation none was heard 
 Save from the note of singing bird— 
 With brazen lyre, and uplift sight 
 He thus invoked the God of lisrht:
 
 S THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 THE INVOCATION. 
 
 Hall Mighty Father! Parent hail! 
 Oh! grant a mortal, lost and frail, 
 To pray— and may his prayer prevail. 
 
 The' earthly tongue presume to sing ; 
 With heavenly tenderness endued. 
 Be all my baser thoughts subdued. 
 Hear me altho' the strain be rude. 
 
 And earthly hands shall touch the string. 
 
 In those blest realms of purest light. 
 Where burns no sun, where shades no night, 
 AVhere harps are touched by seraphs bright. 
 
 Where blessed hosts sing Thee alone- 
 Let a presumptuous youth aspire. 
 To pray a spark of heavenly fire. 
 And then above to tune my lyre. 
 
 And sing thy mercy, near thy throne.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The sound yet hini<>- upon his tongue. 
 And zephyrs bore the plaintive song. 
 The hills received the novel tone. 
 And echo answered, ''Near Thy throne*' 
 A sudden beam of vivid light. 
 Burst from the sky on Jubal's sight ; 
 He hears a thousand voices sing. 
 He hears the harp of heavenly string. 
 He sunk to earth, when on his ears. 
 Burst the sweet music of the spheres :— 
 
 THE REPLY. 
 
 Arise ! and thy harp strings awaken, 
 Jehovah deserts not the meek, 
 
 The patient are never forsaken. 
 
 The tear never sullies their cheek. 
 
 Arise ! and thy countenance brightening. 
 Believe in Jehovah's great name. 
 
 He comes in the thunder and lightning. 
 Surrounded by brightness and flame. 
 
 €
 
 10 THE LAY or THE FIRST MlNSTREr. 
 
 Holy spirits His presence attciuliiig. 
 
 His favour for ever invoke, 
 He bows down the heavens in descendinp;^, 
 
 *' He touches the hills^ and they smoke." 
 
 He moves in the rage of the ocean. 
 His purity falls in the snow. 
 
 He comes in the whirlwind's commotion. 
 He dwells in the streamlets that flow. 
 
 Arise ! for the dews of the morning. 
 As pearl-drops descend from above, 
 
 A chaplet thy brow is adorning. 
 Composed of compassion and love. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Jubal arose to seek his tent, 
 But first to heaven the knee he bent— 
 His eyes were downward cast— his breast 
 His folded arms and hands had pressed ; 
 No lips are seen in prayer to move. 
 He loved his God— -and God was love. 
 Yet glistening did the tear-dew start. 
 Sweet eml)lcm of a pious heart- 
 How sacred then that drop which slept 
 In Jesus' eye— when *' Jesus wept."
 
 THE LAV OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 11 
 
 XVI. 
 
 These are the dew drops which distil. 
 From Hermon's Mount, on Sion's Hill, 
 The proof of faith — hearts, meek and kind. 
 The gems which most adorn the mind- 
 So it was theyi, in Jubal's days. 
 When shed in pity, or in praise.— 
 But man beware! the flooded eye 
 Oft speaks the spring of pity dry — 
 Tears flow from crocodiles tho' mute, 
 And man has copied from the brute. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Jubal had prtgsed his measured way. 
 To where his father's sheep folds lay ; 
 He left the sweet, the holy bower. 
 To breathe the mandrake's balmy flower ; 
 Yet now and then a passing chord. 
 Thrilled to the honour of the Lord, 
 And softly would his conscience tell. 
 That heaven received the rising swell. — 
 Music should never cease, or die. 
 Which holds such converse with the sky. 
 
 c2
 
 l2 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And now tlic splendid orb of day. 
 Warmed earth with liis meridian ray. 
 And Jubal jonrncyed with his lyre, 
 'Mid mental and corporeal fire— 
 Pictnre ye wise in tliis sad age. 
 Born present now, with past to wage 
 Eternal war---for peace o-one by. 
 Leaves void the breast— save bnt to si<^h, 
 Nay more, to p-oan, tor lullaby 
 Can wipe no sorrow from the eye. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Uevert a moment, since those tears 
 Have bronght their knowledge to our ears. 
 And from our ears by pungent pain. 
 Have fixed them iti the maddening brain, 
 Whilst from th(^ brain has shot the dart 
 Downwards, to pierce the shrinking heart. 
 And from its seat each thrilling pain. 
 Has quivered thro' each crackling vein. 
 Till (uicli, distending more and more, 
 15ursts! -and its victim is---no more!---
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 13 
 
 XX. 
 
 Witness ye wives ! for Adam's heart 
 The painful histoiy could impart. 
 Eve felt with him the poisonous dart 
 Of Eden's serpent— Eden's smart ; 
 For tho' the spirit, as a dove. 
 O'er chaos waving- from al)ove. 
 Blessed earth— it could not yet remove 
 Earth's deepest stain— yet deeper love 
 In embryo lay— whilst mortals wept. 
 The clouded sun-heam only slept. 
 
 XXI 
 
 Witness ye husbands! and beware 
 The proffered gift— the smiling snare; 
 The wheat which mixed with the tare, 
 Tho' noxious last— at first was fair. 
 Oh! let me not those hearts divide, 
 AVhere ebb and flow run tide to tide. 
 Or make a single hair breadth wide. 
 Where lovers slumber side by side; 
 No, help me heaven, if such my care ;— 
 But ere you plight your \o\\s---beware !
 
 14 THE LAY OF THE 1 IKST MINSTREL. 
 
 XXll. 
 
 For woman is of fickle mind. 
 
 This moment loves— the next unkind; 
 
 Now grants her lover placid rest. 
 
 Then tears the rose-bud from his breast ; 
 
 This minute flows the streaming eye 
 
 In all the faith of constancy ; 
 
 The next ! — but cease me to deplore 
 
 What first we loved— but now adore.— 
 
 Didst thou descend from joys above. 
 
 To work man's fall— then claim his love? 
 
 XXIII 
 
 Witness ye sons ! there are who feel 
 The fall, in father's hearts of steel ; 
 And Adam's, seared by hellish pain. 
 Bequeathed the father with the Cain ; 
 That even at a mother's breast. 
 Were drawn alike our woe and rest, 
 Altho' the infiint's cheering smile. 
 Ere sleep o'ercame, could please the while ; 
 Yet milk may How— and mother's mock. 
 As water flowed from lloreb's rock.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 15 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Witness ye daughters! — but to you 
 Where to begin or end your due, 
 I know not— for your infant hearts, 
 Alone escape the tempter's darts. 
 For when I to my bosom press 
 All that is blessing— all to bless. 
 When, in my agony of wo, 
 I clasp your forms, and kiss you so. 
 What is it, but the "oil" to man, 
 ^' And wine" of the Samaritan? 
 
 XXV. 
 
 My memory strays, but come again. 
 Recalling Jubal's living strain. 
 Living— whilst yet a mortal eye. 
 Or tongue, or pulse exist to die ; 
 Living— to raise from darkest night. 
 The clearest ray of brightp'^t light ; 
 What tho' of solid joys bereft. 
 Yet heavenly chords on earth were left. 
 To cheer mankind throughout that night. 
 Succeeding: to its lona: lost light.
 
 \Q THp LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Gently he trod his way— aioiind 
 Spriiii"- nature's sweetness fioni tlic groinid ; 
 Enraptured was his every sense, 
 Eacli thoudit and look was innocence. 
 He turned a cra»-gy niountain's height, 
 AVhen fond endeanuents met his sij^ht. 
 For Jubal loved—yet love is pain. 
 The loss inseparate iVoui the gain ; 
 However briuht the tianie which burns. 
 It heats the heart, and warms by turns. 
 
 XXYH. 
 
 'Twas Zillah that young- Jubal wooed, 
 
 AVhose gentle heart his soul subdued, 
 
 A maid to Jubal's sire allied, 
 
 And bore his mother's name beside; 
 
 But where yet ever flew the dart 
 
 Of love, without its after smart? 
 
 Or where did ever rose adoiu, 
 
 AVhere near the flower grew not the thorn? 
 
 He saw the fair, but felt the pain 
 
 Ofji'alousfire, towards Tubal-cain.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 17 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 For Jubal as he stood espied, 
 
 His brother seated by her side^ 
 
 He saw each meditative look. 
 
 And gentle glance within the brook ; 
 
 He saw the lambkins round them play^ 
 
 And strove to chase his fears away. 
 
 For jealousy usurps each sense. 
 
 And turns to guilt sweet innocence ; 
 
 Slowly he moved— whilst trembling breast. 
 
 And hand, and lyre, his soul confessed. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 For 'neath a copse whose single screen. 
 So sweetly interfered between. 
 Where florets decked the lovely vale. 
 And richest odours load the gale ; 
 He sat, (how hard the task!) to sing 
 The sweets of love— its poisonous sting ; 
 But unforgetful of that care. 
 Which lent an car to pious prayer, 
 In nicest tune his lyre he strung. 
 And struck the chords as thus he straig.
 
 IS" THF. r.\Y or Tiir iirst .minstrf-F.. 
 
 jr HALS SOSii. 
 
 Whatr'(T mv heart a>Yakf'n, 
 Sweet frieiulsliip or soft love>. 
 
 It cannot be forsaken. 
 For each is from above. 
 
 I would embrace a l)rothcr. 
 Nor friendship's bond reinove> 
 
 But then to tie another. 
 Is but to leam to love. 
 
 These bonds toj^ether vying;, 
 Destroy each heavenly strain. 
 
 And wlio the knots untying, 
 Can e'er unite again ? 
 
 Our flocks around arc playing. 
 And innocence is near--- 
 
 Our moments are decaying-, 
 And death is in the year. 
 
 The sweetly rising fountain, 
 Which ilows adown the steeps. 
 
 And rippling o''cr the mountain, 
 Saon in the valley sleeps
 
 TjttE LAV OF Tlli: FlUSl MINSTKEL. 19 
 
 And SO our hours of sorrow, 
 AV'hich cloud our hearts to-day, 
 
 May cease to paui to-morrow. 
 Since death has marked the way 
 
 Shine forth ye beams of gladness. 
 
 And dissipate my j^loom. 
 Or, overspread by sadness, 
 
 Just gild my silent torah. 
 
 Then love, if love may brighten 
 
 My last tho' feeblest ray. 
 Attend that hour to lighten. 
 
 And court its pang away. 
 
 That so the love I cherish. 
 
 May fleet as fleets my breath. 
 And, fading as I perish. 
 
 May die with me in death. 
 
 For beauty, tho' time sever. 
 
 Full soon again will rise. 
 And beam a star for e\er 
 
 In never fading ^kies. 
 d2
 
 20 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XXX 
 
 What the surprise of Tubal-cain, 
 
 When listening to the Minstrel's strain!-— 
 
 He knew the sweetness of the air. 
 
 He knew the voice that warbled there ; 
 
 Supporting Zillah to the place, 
 
 They strive their mourning bard to trace. 
 
 To follow in his silent pace. 
 
 And view with love^ his lovely face ; 
 
 For sorrow hung upon his tongue. 
 
 Mournful his lyre and sad his song. 
 
 XXXI 
 
 The softened echo of the tone 
 
 Died-and his jealousy was flown--- 
 
 What power has music to disarm, 
 
 Man's passions by its potent charm ! 
 
 Dead to its joys, the soul can feel. 
 
 No, texture but of strongest steel.--- 
 
 Oh heavens! what must those mortals know, 
 
 Who live alone, to living wo ! 
 
 Whose every joy is dimmed with care, 
 
 And every hope, by dark despair!
 
 THE LAV OF THE FIRST MINSTIIKL. 21 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Ah, jealousy! thou hated crime, 
 
 Begot in thought, matured in time. 
 
 For hell alone rules o'er thy day. 
 
 And devils strew thy thorny way.--- 
 
 Oh! let thy martyrs ever pray. 
 
 On suppliant knees— "away!— -away!" 
 
 'Twere better that the heart should turn 
 
 To stone, than as an Etna burn. 
 
 Than sleeping, ever to awake 
 
 With strings so racked, they strained to break, 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Just as the whirlwind courts the breeze. 
 
 At first to fan, then rend the trees ; 
 
 Just as the zephyrs, ocean charm. 
 
 By kissing that they would not harm, 
 
 And only pass its surface o'er. 
 
 To lave a requiem to its shore. 
 
 Such as it seldom heard before ; 
 
 And may that wreck return no more--- 
 
 So will suspicion, lovers wring, 
 
 And rend their bosoms string from string.
 
 ta TiJE LAY OF THE FJUST .MlN>.TnEL. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 How truiiqiiil tlic onco anxious brciist^ 
 Wlicn heiiveuly conitort soothes to rest, 
 Which racked by every as^o and ill 
 AN'hicli 'bitter life, can yet be still. 
 Which balinv comfort---love divine--- 
 Heals *' pouring in the oil and zoiue." 
 Oh, Adam! could thy optics see 
 The sad and wretched legacy. 
 Bequeathed thy children— hap'ly then. 
 Thy dust would join its kindred men. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 We mourn- --and mourn we ever must. 
 Dust has becti flesh— and Uesh is dust, 
 Which copious tears wrung day by day. 
 Have nvoistened to yet colder clay.-- 
 ' Tis but an animated frame. 
 Of fulsome earth which bears the name 
 Of mighty maul ---alas for pride. 
 Which e^n its fellow man deride. 
 When all he sees, aud idl he hears, 
 Hnd with a f^'w revolving years.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 2S 
 
 XXXYI 
 
 Some in the morning' of their day^ 
 
 At earliest dawn are called away ; 
 
 Others their being scarce can tell^ 
 
 Or take their name— ere sounds their knell ; 
 
 And, as the sacred water fell. 
 
 Creaked on its wheel the i'uneral bell--- 
 
 None make a long protracted stay, 
 
 Day is-— but gone is 2/esterdai/ ; 
 
 So thro' life's calendar— away 
 
 Pass hours, and scarce leave time to pray., v; 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Say rigid Chronos— wilt thou pass 
 
 My pleasures by— nor stop thy glass? 
 
 No— when they come-"with horror blithe. 
 
 Thou pausest— but to whet thy scithe. 
 
 To cut away the present joy. 
 
 Or canker all with some alloy. 
 
 To drop on my devoted brain. 
 
 Thy hour glass sand to smallest grain. 
 
 And waving on thy wings, can just 
 
 Whi.sper thine errand— "XH/si to du^."
 
 24 TllK LAV OF Tlir 1 IRST MINSTRF.L. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 This is a partnersliip I crave. 
 And look with hope to yon dark bier. 
 For if there's rest beyond the grave, 
 A something to absorb the tear, 
 To lull alarm, and chase a fear ; 
 Then time be swift my pangs to save. 
 And on its verge soon bring me near, 
 For I can any tortures brave, 
 But those which are inflicted here. 
 Drowned in the world's tumultuous wave. 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 Let me no longer sorrow on. 
 But placid joy displace the grief. 
 And heal the heart it gnaws upon. 
 
 With something which can bring relief. 
 
 Then be my tale of woes but brief; 
 
 Tho' some are present—many gone. 
 
 Nor will I stain the virgin leaf, 
 
 To write in tears, as some have done ; 
 
 It steals upon us like a thief. 
 
 And raises our sepulchral stone.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 25 
 
 XL. 
 
 For ^^hy should man in plaintive rhyme. 
 Dig out his grave before he dies ? 
 Methinks 'twere best to leave to time. 
 The closing of those tearful eyes, 
 Which flow as flow their melodies ; 
 Nor yet with crossing sounds to chime. 
 But highest pleasure, highest prize; 
 And conscience tells me 'tis no crime 
 To live, but living to be wise. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Not long did Jubal's heart retain 
 The secret pang of jealous pain. 
 United to a loving wife, 
 Zillah the loved— his second life— 
 His hai-p and lyre to concord strung. 
 He present times, and future sung; 
 For highest heaven his soul inspired. 
 And w ith its flame, his breast was fired ; 
 He sung of all the joys above. 
 
 Of SIN, INGRATITUDE, and LOVE. 
 
 E
 
 ^6 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XLIl. 
 
 He suno- of MARRIAGE, and tlic theme 
 Ofpievious love— that silver clrcani— 
 By j)rophecy to him was j^iveii, 
 The sweet communion of heaven— 
 'Twas inspiration Samuel called, 
 Which thrice old Eli's heart appalled, 
 'Twas inspiration's li^ht to mark. 
 Their loss of victory with the Ark, 
 And Eli's doom was fixed to die. 
 As Samuel said—'' Lord here am I" 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 He sung of friendship, and the lays 
 Of sweet forgiveness, sung he too. 
 Of brighter hours and happier days, 
 Thau those which memory left to rue- 
 He strung his lyre, and strung it true; 
 For whether tuned to sigh or praise. 
 To heaven the holy concoi*d flew. 
 And he its note would ever raise 
 In good or had, to give the due 
 To different strains, in different ways.
 
 THE LAV OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 27 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 He sung' of all ''the joys above/' 
 Which wait the saints as breath declines. 
 Of all that everlasting love 
 Which round a penitent entwines. 
 Like ivy round the rugged vines ; 
 Or like the mate unto its dove. 
 When treading sympathetic lines. 
 In every fondness which can prove 
 How pure the love, which purely shines. 
 Immoveable for ne'er to move. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 The joys above— so bright a theme- 
 More meet indeed for man to dream. 
 Than in reality express. 
 How God creates, in heaven to bless ; 
 A theme, which owing no controul. 
 Exhausts the fancy of the soul ; 
 Drawn down the stream of mercy's tide. 
 The current drives, but can't subside; 
 And sweetly did he tune the song. 
 Which urged that holy tide along. 
 
 e2
 
 28 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 THK JOYS ABOVE. 
 
 Man born to sorrow from his birth. 
 In that sad orbit, can but move. 
 
 Yet may he find, tho' lost on earth, 
 A recompence in ''Joys above." 
 
 There are \vho safely can retain. 
 The sweets of supernatural love. 
 
 Extinguishing all earthy pain. 
 
 By lighting up '' The Joys above.''* 
 
 There arc, too, who so wildly stray. 
 And from the mercy seat remove. 
 
 They ne'er again regain the way. 
 
 Which tracks the road to ''Joys above." 
 
 Had I the wings, and artless breast. 
 As owns the sweet and harmless dove, 
 
 ''I'd flee away, and be at rest," 
 
 And wing my flight to "Joys above." 
 
 Oh! may my morn and evening watch. 
 From that sure landmark never move. 
 
 That so no friend may ever snatch 
 My joys away—" The Joys above."
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 29 
 
 So may my life, by living, shew 
 
 How my firm faith can constant prove. 
 
 And in my death, when dying, know 
 The value of '* The Jot/s above." 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 How sweet for Jubal thus to sing. 
 Of all the joys which heaven can bring. 
 And shadowed by th' Almighty's wing. 
 To touch the chord of mercy's string! 
 But what can raise discordant din. 
 Or what from harmony more win. 
 Than when soft music's strains begin 
 To sing of death, or deadly '"Sin?"— 
 Alas its note was in the eye. 
 Its air was wafted on a sigh. 
 
 SIN. 
 
 Sweet are the joys which reign above. 
 Then why with pleasures first begin? 
 Since heaven withdrew its peaceful dove, 
 As came on earth the monster sin. 
 With all the sound of discord's din. 
 To quench the light of heavenly love.
 
 30 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 And tVoin tlie soul its peace to 'win? 
 Its deadly canker there to prove, 
 . Sole tenant to that heart, >vherein 
 But lately purest innocence could move. 
 
 Ah! luckless tree and luckless fruit. 
 Yet sacred both— unhappy Eve, 
 Would that iny lyre could now be mute, 
 Nor sins; of what is past retrieve. 
 Yet not past mercy to reprieve ; 
 More lively then be harp and lute, 
 For future ages shall believe. 
 That from the heavens a star shall shoot. 
 To heal the souls, in sin, which grieve. 
 And tear the cursed canker, by its root. 
 
 Insatiate fiend, one would have thought. 
 That hell had marked thy fatal lot. 
 And wrote the lesson thou hast taught. 
 In dreams of frenzy ne'er forgot ; 
 Since sin is born and truth is not. 
 That gem which cannot now be bought. 
 So sin witli man should die and rot. 
 For virtue will in vain be sought.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 31 
 
 Save in that crucible so hot. 
 Where even scarcest gold, is scarcest bouglit. 
 
 Thou wily serpent, crawling low 
 Upon the cursed — the thistled earth ; 
 And all to thee that curse we owe. 
 
 Thou monster of unnatural birth. 
 The charge of God thou still must know, 
 *^' Upon thy belly thou shall go" 
 Nor scatter more the noxious dearth ; 
 Except by crawling too and fro. 
 Mix poison in their songs of mirth. 
 And in th' inviting cup, to mingle wo. 
 
 Oh ! woman, weakest of the weak. 
 Since thirst of knowledge made thee wild. 
 Running deep furrows o'er thy cheek. 
 Which pass to each succeeding child. 
 By thee deceived, or, sin beguiled— 
 Yet art thou born with features meek. 
 And countenance as heaven most mild. 
 But furrows grow, and down must streak. 
 The fountain floods by grief compiled. 
 Which soon must end, should ne'er that fountain break.
 
 32 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 Sill ! thou sad canker of the soul. 
 Thou source of every coniuig care. 
 How do thy tempests thro' us roll. 
 And lay man's beauteous image bare. 
 To hell— and hell's most dark despair ! 
 We drain with joy the maddening bowl, 
 Nor does it yet our senses scare. 
 We deem it good— nay aught but foul. 
 And load reproach upon the air. 
 Which rages yet within, beyond the strength's controul. 
 
 Man's first foundation fair and good, 
 A superstructure owned as fair. 
 The Lord of earth he proudly stood. 
 Yet SIN was vegetating there. 
 And oh! how soon the bursting bud. 
 Brought forth the blossom of despair ! 
 The fruit of which, alone by blood. 
 Shall blighted be— and all our care 
 Be washed away in that red flood, 
 The blessed tide of which our sin will bear. 
 
 Shall all who in those streams confide. 
 Shield from the horrors of the grave.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 33 
 
 In heaven's bright chariot proudly ride. 
 And view his face who comes to save. 
 And in that blood their robes shall lave. 
 Which yet must flow from out His side. 
 In streaming flood, and rippling wave ; 
 One, whom the world will but deride. 
 And hailing "'Master," bind Him '"Slave," 
 Bowing on lowest earth— heaven's highest pride. 
 
 The earth shall quake when on that day, 
 Man shall, for man, a martyr make ; 
 And earth such horrors shall display. 
 As e'en shall cause her hills to shake ; 
 Her vales to swell, her rocks to quake; 
 The sun of light shall hide his ray. 
 And sleeping bodies shall awake!— 
 Oh! agony 1 — but let me stay. 
 Nor shall these chords in horror break. 
 On such a mournful theme— but die away. 
 
 Discord untimes th' harmonious wire. 
 Whilst dwelling on the mournful theme
 
 34- THE LAY OP THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 And deadening" souiids distract the lyre 
 With deadlier chords^ as tlio' 'twould seem 
 To wish to sleep— at least to dream 
 Of sin's most fierce yet hidden fire, 
 AVhich thro' the soul impels its ^leam. 
 Nor leaves it aught >\hich can inspire 
 A single streak of mercy's beam. 
 And bid despair to look for comfort higher. 
 
 Then hush my song, nor thou, my brain. 
 Bring distant melancholy near; 
 Cease, cease to court the painful strain: 
 Then fall it with the falling tear, 
 Altho' it trickles not in vain. 
 But weeps a knell to coming pain. 
 And trembles with a piteous fear ; 
 AVliilst deeper grows man's guilty stain. 
 Increasing with th' increasing year. 
 Until he breathe alas!— but—to complain. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 E'en noiv, as then, will thoughts arise, 
 Which grieve the heart and dim the eyes.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 35 
 
 Tho' joy compose a lively strain. 
 There is a passing note of pain, 
 Like trees on which the summer rays 
 Of sol^ have scorch'd by ardent blaze. 
 Ere eve hath closed ; the trickling leaf 
 Shews symbols of the human grief, 
 For tears may dry consuming pain. 
 As leaves grow green by summer rain. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Again he sung — and sweet the strain 
 Which turns to pleasure, aching pain. 
 He sung, and oh ! how rich the strife 
 Which pants with death, in panting life. 
 He sung, and oh ! ye fair ones lend 
 An ear unto your earliest friend, 
 A woman's friend— and oh ! if he 
 To her could tune his minstrelsy--- 
 Be silent men— you now can prove. 
 Faithful in any thing but— fore/---
 
 ^6 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 Ah gently — gently— if a charm 
 
 E'er lighted up a guilty lire. 
 May God cnervc the impious arm. 
 
 And with its strength, its heart exi)ire. 
 
 'Tvvere better;— for its pulse may beat. 
 Where reason held her godlike sway. 
 
 But soon usurped upon her scat, 
 May frenzy melt that gem away. 
 
 What pity that Almighty love. 
 
 By mightless thought is unadorned. 
 
 And heaven which sent it from above. 
 By earthly baseness, should be scorned. 
 
 Oil! God forgive— and i)ardon him 
 Whose eyes, tlio' open, fail to see. 
 
 And tho' with crime, those eyes be dim. 
 Grant them thro' all, a sight of Thee. 
 
 For such a bliss and such a light. 
 
 The tear should flow, the heart should beat, 
 The (lay might shroud itself in night. 
 
 And sunshine to the dark succeed.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 37 
 
 The beating pulse, might curb its strain. 
 The fluttering heart too cease to beat, 
 
 The one, might quiver in the vein. 
 The other, tremble in its seat. 
 
 For heart and blood by one controul, 
 Exist as when they first were given, 
 
 The body owns its kindred soul. 
 
 Which claims communion with heaven. 
 
 Then stay my enemy— perchance 
 What time thy rancour draweth nigh. 
 
 When hell has given the word— '' advance," 
 Heaven's mandate has gone forth— io die. 
 
 Oh ! faulter then, 'tis far too much. 
 For tongue to sing or swell the lyre. 
 
 For vengeance, like its slightest touch. 
 Trembles an instant— to expire. 
 
 Then come my foe— for tho' unkind. 
 Heaven formed us for a different end. 
 
 So heart to heart— and mind to mind. 
 Should tic the knot which binds a friend.
 
 38 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Oh ! let me pray tli' iNveiitive muse. 
 Her poet's liumble line excuse. 
 His feeble effort mild and rude. 
 To treat of base ingratitude: 
 For who can court celestial light. 
 To shew the darkness of the night. 
 Or borrow aught from heaven to swell 
 The darkest crime of darkest hell. 
 Oh ! sin of deepest— deadliest name — 
 Allied to every vice, but shame. 
 
 L. 
 
 Unlike all deeds of ill beside. 
 
 Thy purpose owns no crimson tide. 
 
 The poisonous streams, which thro' thcc rush, 
 
 Dim not the eye, or streak the blush. 
 
 No latent impulse works to shew 
 
 The tear of pity — rising glow— 
 
 The writhing agony of wo— 
 
 Or penitential sigh— ah! no!— 
 
 The reign of hell too potent there 
 
 To own a subject of despair.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Jubal thy strains— altho' but new. 
 And strung to sin — might tremble true^ 
 For tho' the serpent's baneful smart. 
 Had poisoned man's unguarded heart. 
 It had not yet o'erblackened quite 
 The pureness of its virgin white; 
 'Twas but th' inoculated sin. 
 Was left to vegetate within. 
 And mixing deadly with his blood. 
 Left it a dark and putrid flood. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Ingratitude! hell's favourite sin. 
 With falsehood born— a sister twin. 
 Begot by whom, there's none can tell. 
 Tho' cherished, yet unknown, in hell. 
 Save as the chamber of thy birth. 
 And school to fit thee for the earth. 
 To pour new venom thro' thy heart, 
 Repoisoning every poisoned part- 
 All these to present days belong. 
 And so unchanged be Jubal's song. 
 
 n
 
 38 """" " 
 
 tU THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 IXGllATITrDP:. 
 
 Mysterious sin! thy name declares 
 A somethinf^ more than demon birth, 
 Thy placid aspect calmly wears 
 The pure and friendly smile of mirth. 
 Enlivening now the fainting earth. 
 Whose sons o'erwhelmed with vast despair. 
 Are parched with sin's insatiate dearth. 
 And court a solace from their care. 
 
 The smile is gone ! thy heart remains. 
 Thy hand received— thy hand retains 
 The kindly favour, friendship lent. 
 As smiled thy luring blandishment.™ 
 ris gone indeed— yet other smile 
 Succeeds the one which nurtured guile. 
 In treachery which may safe confide;— 
 Guilt done, by guilt well fortified. 
 
 }r 
 
 Darkness, thy deepest curtain spread- 
 Gather around, impervious gloom- 
 Press o'er the guilty monster's head 
 A heavier weight than weighs his tomb.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 41 
 
 And shadow o'er the fidsome dead 
 A thickened horror— without room 
 To feel a hand, or foot to tread. 
 And worse than hell prepare his doom. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Change the sad measure to delight. 
 Vanish ingratitude away. 
 Sink in the dark of darkest night. 
 Ere glimmering in the eastern ray. 
 Nor rise thou to meridian day. 
 Oh ! heaven obscure the horrid sight, 
 > Change ! change ! the melancholy lay 
 To love, and love's most sweet delight. 
 But where its origin or birth?— 
 A golden vein in putrid earth. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 What tender feeling moved the unconscious frame. 
 What silken knot, around my heart was tied, 
 
 When fear and hope irresolutely came. 
 
 As smiled the features, tho' the bosom sighed? 
 
 G
 
 42 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 I knew not then 'twas love— most sweet disease^ 
 For ever woundinj]^ what 'tis made to heal. 
 
 And paining in its fond attempts to please. 
 Was deadening- feeling, as it bade mc feel. 
 
 It spread its rose-leaves in the inviting way. 
 
 The air was scented with the mandrake's flower. 
 
 The sun of bliss displayed his brightest ray, 
 Aiid i-uthless time smiled on the passing hour. 
 
 The eastern sun I waited on the hill. 
 
 And viewed with transport his meridian height. 
 
 Thro' all the glowing west admired him still. 
 
 And saw him blush upon the shades of night. 
 
 Soon tinged, alas ! with evening's dusky grey. 
 The heaven's high arch was clouded from above. 
 
 But soon the nmon proclaimed a milder day. 
 And carried on the task of heavenly love. 
 
 Soft Zillali— as I turned my pensive eye. 
 
 And saw thee pour to God thy evening prayer. 
 
 The love of heaven, to love of earth came nigh. 
 And angels wept in dew-drops thro' the air.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 43 
 
 Did not that dew impearl thy lovely face, 
 And every sorrow of thy bosom spare ? 
 
 As tho' thy penitential tears to trace. 
 
 And write the pardon of thy father there ? 
 
 To ease thy every pain and anxious doubt. 
 Of father's fault, and mother's grievous sin. 
 
 And falling on thy breast, to wash noithomt, 
 The sad transgression which was born within. 
 
 Did not I press the earth with solemn fear. 
 To join the prayer of thee in whom I live? 
 
 And tell me, did not heavenly pardon hear. 
 And say in mercy that it would "^forgive?" 
 
 Oh! love! thy sweets are not the gift of earth. 
 They spring not fi'om a soil in richness driven. 
 
 They flow from fountains of the purest birth — 
 From mercy's current— which has rise in heaven. 
 
 Ne'er be there breasts whom earthly passions move. 
 Or bid that sweet and heavenly pulse be still. 
 
 Which can but calmly, or but coolli/ love. 
 As fleshly passions, urge th' obedient wilL 
 
 g2
 
 44 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTUEL. 
 
 But let them beat, as beats th' expiring breath, 
 And witli tlioir lives, dissolve the base desire. 
 
 Subdued alone, by all subduing' death. 
 
 Or when the sea gro\vs dry, by earth on fire. 
 
 If innocence be like the harmless dove. 
 And if its faithfulness must be as pure, 
 
 Then constancy alone, must claim the love. 
 And make our home, as well as heaven secure. 
 
 Farewell my landjs— the evening hides your folds. 
 
 And love engages every baser sense--- 
 May man like you, retain the hope he holds. 
 
 And sleep like you, in happy innocence. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 The birds had ceased ere Jubal's prayer 
 Was wafted on the grateful air, 
 And now the moon in splendour bright. 
 And all the lamps of heavcidy light. 
 Were shiniui!: forth in mildest flame. 
 As Zillah to her Jubal came-- 
 Swcet fire of love— no more to bm-n 
 Or know on earth such sweet retnrn--- 
 For whv?---for sin had sown the field. 
 The harvest, those unborn, must yield.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 45 
 
 LV. 
 
 Can we not see the mother mild— 
 The father's look—the fondling child. 
 In fancy view the heavenly bliss 
 Of child's embrace— its mother's kiss; 
 See both in fond endearment pressed. 
 Heart strong to heart, and breast to breast. 
 Nay love's affections burst controul 
 Thro' earthly flesh, to heavenly soul. 
 And rise in thought to that abode. 
 Which leads to virtue, and to God / 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Can fancy see the table crowned 
 
 With healthful food— the children round, 
 
 A loving partner's watchful eye 
 
 Beaming with love, and constancy. 
 
 To share each glance— supply each care — 
 
 To hear his tale— or list his air. 
 
 Attending with ecstatic fire. 
 
 The swelling of the lovely lyre? 
 
 Can fancy prompt or man see this. 
 
 And then inquiring, ask for bliss?
 
 46 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 And canst thou not, my muse, rehearse 
 
 The subject of that holy verse, 
 
 Whicli dwelt upon his pious tongue. 
 
 When sung the soft domestic song. 
 
 Which, smile and tear, and thous^ht and siirh. 
 
 Proclaimed that evening's lullaby? 
 
 Ah ! time can ill indeed retrace. 
 
 The impression of his footstep's pace. 
 
 Yet may be drawn aside the screen. 
 
 To shew what zoas— and might have been. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Age might have been, but giant pride. 
 Stalked o'er the earth with mighty stride. 
 Chased from man's view his happier hours. 
 Left all the weeds, but crushed the flowers, 
 Scared the pure air at every tread. 
 And left the vapour in its stead, 
 No more!— let Jubal's sweet employ, 
 I5y fancy drawn, give real joy. 
 Would it were lasting, and that men 
 As once they loved, could love agai?i.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 47 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 The day is gone, the moon is shining. 
 
 The flocks and herds, in peace are resting. 
 
 And lovely arms around me twining, 
 Drown the fear of aufirht molesting:. 
 
 When the sun of day is heating. 
 Then I look to ni^-ht returnin£:. 
 
 For my heart with love is beating, 
 Tho' his radiant beams are buraing. 
 
 For 2i faithful partner's gladness. 
 Hails with Joy her anxious lover. 
 
 Dries the eye of pensive sadness. 
 Every sorrow aids to cover. 
 
 Or if I quiet sit to rest. 
 
 Then all the joys of heaven are here. 
 Since love like this imbibes no fear. 
 
 My children hang upon my breast. 
 My wife in happiness is blest— 
 This draws but one— a lover's tear. 
 
 \ •
 
 4§ THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 Iloaveii makes the bed, for tliose \\\\o love. 
 And silver clouds compose their pillow, 
 
 AVhilst angels in their watch above. 
 Still the soul's tumultuous billow. 
 
 Oh! marriage! thou most precious gem— 
 My wite— my children, all I see. 
 
 My soul adores!— I dwell in them, 
 And they exist alone in me. 
 
 Come to these arms, and take thy rest. 
 Sweet innocent, in comfort deep ; 
 
 Recline, my wife, on this soft breast, 
 And kiss it ere thou sink to sleep. 
 
 And as ye rest, sliould I but wake 
 
 O'er-pained by toil or pressed by care. 
 
 My dearest tribute will I make. 
 
 And say "Heaven bless you" in my prayer.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 49 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 So ends the tale imagination draws^ 
 For time has drawn oblivion o'er the day. 
 When Jubal sung— and so 'Ht gives us pause," 
 To hear an echo of the echoing lay. 
 Which erst he sung— for difficult the way 
 To traveLback from time— for oh ! his laws 
 Too sternly bid us not to step astray. 
 Nor vainly plead with him a hopeless cause. 
 But onward tread the path— where death the curtain 
 draws. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Strike we a moral from the humble theme — 
 Tho' earth, our mother, waits to claim her own. 
 To lull us to the sleep where none may dream. 
 Whose only covering is the funeral stone. 
 To press that mother to our breast alone— 
 When we shall be what now, we scarcely seem 
 To know or think of— for to flesh and bone 
 Is only given a shadow of that beam. 
 Which promised truly first— most truly to redeem. 
 
 H
 
 50 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 If from ''the joys above," my vei'sc has told 
 There aught reiiiaius of value on the niiud, 
 If it be richer, than the inchest gold. 
 And hidden, \vorth a sinner's pains to find, 
 AVho searching after, never looks behind ; 
 Then be his purpose firm, his courage bold. 
 And round liis heart that honest breast-plate bind. 
 Which kindles zeal, which never more grows cold. 
 But leads to promised bliss— and all that bliss can 
 hold, 
 
 LXII. 
 
 If from the theme of '"love" a passion warm. 
 One which the chastity of soul has placed, 
 And fanned withhi the breast Mith magic charm. 
 Adopted, never to be once disgraced. 
 Burning with steady light which knows no waste. 
 Which thinks no evil, and invents no harm ; 
 Then let that lover, to his loved, haste. 
 And let th' embraced, and the embracing arm 
 Ne'er feel a nerve of fear, or tremble with alarm.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 51 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Read not ''ingratitude/' nor speak the name. 
 Virtue must blush, and sin itself turn pale, 
 Nay devils feel a transient glow of shame, 
 That mortals ever lived to tell the tale. 
 That hearts grown sinful, grew so doubly frail. 
 As when ingratitude with sorrow came; 
 The wounded breast it injured, to assail. 
 Oh ! what the tempest of the soul can tame 
 That blows its raging fire^ and feeds the burning 
 flame. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 And ''marriage," those who enter on thy tie. 
 Enter on sorrow, or are doubly blest. 
 To all but one, they bid a long " good bye," 
 To sleep in pain, or sweetly be at rest. 
 Where frowns the brow, or warms the doating breast ; 
 To listen to a partner's lullaby, 
 'Mid all the softness of the soul confessed. 
 By modest tear, or by the struggling sigh 
 Which speak the constant love, in death alone to die. 
 
 u2
 
 52 THE LAV OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Yet jealousy may rack the maddening brain, 
 A thousand horrors mock the troubled mind. 
 Which follow e'en in love's alluring" train, 
 Dissevering that, which once they strove to bind. 
 When kindness even proves itself unkind-— 
 Oh misery ! canst thou more increase thy pain. 
 Or can thy bandage, love, yet keep us blind? 
 Then would be broke the tyrant's iron reign, 
 And purged from sinful earth— its yet more sinful 
 stain. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Sleep on in hope thou lover— -and oh ! pray 
 That love may bless thee, in thy bridal bed. 
 
 That coming joys may come with rising day 
 At night too make a pillow for thy head. 
 And be thy sleep still undisturbed by dread- 
 Slumber in faith, ye married, and beware 
 To make the couch of love, a bed of wo. 
 Nor hours of comfort, changed to deep despair. 
 And turned to misery that, ordained to banish care.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 53, 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 I would that I could point out bliss to all. 
 And find myself a solace from my pain. 
 But man is bom to sorrow, from the fall. 
 And bound in sin's inexorable chain 
 To struggle hardly — but alas ! in vain,— 
 Yet may he bend to God the suppliant knee. 
 To pray that mercy would erase the stain. 
 And break his fetters, by his pardon, free. 
 Unloosed from death, and hell, and pain, and mi- 
 sery. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Man is the heir to an immortal crown. 
 Or heir to darkness — which incurs the debt 
 Of falling crimes, or those already down. 
 With many a reeking drop of heart blood wet. 
 And waved with many a sigh of sad regret. 
 Which vegetate from seed by Adam sown, 
 Thriving in memory— never to forget. 
 And writhing under the Almighty's frown- 
 Sin weaves a mournful shroud, but heaven a bridal 
 gown.
 
 54 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Ill what a fatal slumber arc we bound! 
 We sleep to dream— and then convulsive start. 
 We own no blessing, on this once blessed ground. 
 No pity left, in man's once pitying heart; 
 And in life's pilgrimage no friendly chart. 
 Or trusty guide to warn us, can be found. 
 Fresh fears arise, and present hopes depart. 
 Lost and benighted, vainly looking round. 
 Finding in hope, despair— and friendship's name, a 
 sound. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Man in his pride — is but the heir to shame. 
 Lord of a palace, tenant of a grave, 
 Death's icy hand, is in life's quivering flame, 
 His hopes are shipwrecked in the foaming wave. 
 Nor skill, nor power, nor health, nor strength can save; 
 He was— but scarcely now exists the name 
 Of all that late was glorious and brave— 
 'Tis done! the archer well directs his aim. 
 And shrouds in humble dust, the laurelled wreath of 
 fame.
 
 THE LAY OF THE FIRST MINSTREL. 55 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Adieu! my thoughts! 'tis time we both should part; 
 I never enter in myself, but wo 
 Joins the lone company, and makes my heart 
 On all my griefs a retrospect bestow. 
 Which racks my memory and disturbs me so. 
 It only serves to point the blunted dart. 
 And makes my half-healed wounds afresh to flow. 
 Adding to every rend, a keener smart. 
 Which not its early wound such anguish could im- 
 part. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Again adieu! and Jubal may thy string 
 Awake in lively notes to livelier days. 
 Preserving Britain's land, and Britain's king. 
 Whilst all our cities sing the note of praise. 
 And holy joy her solemn anthem raise; 
 So may thy lyre to future ages ring. 
 And songs be set to thee in numerous lays, 
 Tho' mine to pensive chords must ever cling. 
 And court a joy from grief— which nothing else can 
 bring.
 
 Printtdhti A. Foster, Kirkby Lonsdale.