'JST JAMES MONTGOMERY* THfi Wanderer of Switzerland \ AND OTHER POEMS, JAMES i " Tho* long of winds and -waves the sforf, " Condemned in wretchedness to roam, " LIVE I thou shaltjind a sheltering port, " A quiet home." LONDON: Published by VERNOR and HOOD, in the Poultry, and by LONGMAN, HURST, REES and OR.ME, Paternoster Row : Printed by J. .MONTCOMERY, at the IRIS OFFICE, Sheffield . 1SO&. TO THE-PUBJLIC. Jtfo new Publication awakens lefs curiofity than a Tolume of Miscellaneous Poems by an unknown Au- thor. Under this difadvantage, (among many dif- couragements more which need not be named,) the following trifles are offered to the world; yet if they' have merit they cannot be entirely overlooked; if^ Jhey have none they will be juftly neglected. THE WANDERER OP SWITZERLAND, the and longeft eflay in this collection, has a peculiar^ claim on the liberality of criticifm. Whatever its fate or its character may be, it is neither written in the fpirit, nor after the manner of any preceding Poet. An heroic fubject is celebrated in a lyric meafure, on a dramatic plan. To unite with the majefty of epic long, the fire, rapidity and comprejQaon of the ode, ao4 C vi. ] give to both the grace and variety of earneft impaf- Coned conversation* would be an enlargement of the boundaries qf Parnaffus. In fuch an adventure, fuc- cefs would be immortality ; and failure itfelf, in the prefeut inftance, is confecrated by the boldaefs of thu firll attempt. Under thefe circumftances, THE WAN- DERER OF SWITZERLAND will be hofpitably received by every lover of the Mufes: and though .the Poel may have been as unfortunate as his Hero, the infir^ mities of both will be forgiven for the courage which each has difplayed. The Hiftorical fa&s alluded to in this narrative may be found in the Supplement to Ccxis Travels, and m Plantas HiJIory of tie Helvetia Confederacy* It is proper to obferve^ that many of the fmaller _ Pieces have already appeared in the POETICAL REGIS- TER, and other periodical publications: the favour which a few of thefe anoc^inoufly obtained" gave birth .. to the prefent voivniet >NTENTS< fits WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND : : : ; 5 : " ;? THE GRAVE, ..,..;.....:;..; 1$ THE LYRE, .......:.;...:;. si REMONSTRANCE TO WINTER, ........ r t S3 SONG,. ..;.,;....;....,;. 91 THE FOWLER, ;;.! ; ;..;... ; ;; 93 SONG, ..;:;.:;;........; 95 RELIGION,. : :.;:;;...'.;;;;; 97 THE JOY OF GRIEF," . . ~. 1 : '. ~. ~. ', I ; 100 THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA, : ; I : ; ; ; : 105 THE PILLOW, .........;;;;?; 113 - TO THE MEMORY OF JOSEPH BROWNE, ; ; ; ; 123~ THE THUNDER STORM, ...... ; ; . . . 127 ODE TO THE VOLUNTEERS, >.,;;;.... 13 1 THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK, .;;;:;!;;. 137 HANNAH, .............;..";. 147 ^ FflD FLOWER, ; . . . ; ; : ; ; ; ; ; . 151 THE SNOW-DROP, . j ; ; . ; . ; i , ; , . : . : 154 THE OCEAN, ....;;;;.....;.; iei THE CO-MMON LOT, , ,;,..;...... 173 THE WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND, A Poem. IN SIX PARTS. THE WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND. Part I. A WANDERER of SWITZERLAND and his Family, confining of bis Wife, bis Daughter and her young Children, emigrating from their Country , in confequence of its fuljuga tlon by th: French, in 1798, arrive at the Cottage of A SHEPHERD, beyond the frontier s> where they arz bofpitably entertained- . WANDERER! whither doftthou roam? Weary Wanderer, old and grey ! Wherefore haft thou left thine home, In the funfet of thy day ?" 12 THE WANDERER Wanderer. " In the funfet of my day. Stranger ! I have loft my home : Weary, wandering, old and grey, Therefore, therefore do I roam. Here mine arms a Wife enfold, Fainting in their weak embrace ; There my daughter's charms, behold, Withering in that widow'd face. Thefe her infants, O their Sire, Worthy of the race of TELL, In the battle's fierceft fire, In his country's battle, fell !" Sbep. " SWITZERLAND then gave thee birth ?" Wand. " Aye, 'twas SWITZERLAND of yore; But, degraded fpot of earth ! Thou art SWITZERLAND no more. OF SWITZERLAND. 13 O'er thy mountains, funk in blood, Are the waves of ruin hurl'd ; Like the waters of the flood, Rolling round a buried world." Shep. Yet will Time the deluge flop ; Then may SWITZERLAND be bleft : : On ST. GOT HARD'S* hoary top,. Shall the Ark of Freedom reft." Wand. "No! Irreparably loft, On the day that made us flaves, Freedom's Ark, by tempufts toft, Founder'd in the fwallowing waves." * ST. GOTHAKD it the name of the bightf Mountain in the Canton of UM, lie birthplace of Su>!fs L THE WANDERER " Welcome, Wanderer as thou art, All my bleflings to partake ; Yet thrice-welcome to my heart, For thine injured country's fake. On the weftern hills afar, Evening lingers with delight, While fhe views her favourite ftar, Brightening on the brow of night. Here, tho* lowly be my lot, Enter freely, freely (hare All the comforts of my cot, Humble flielter, homely fare. Spoufe ! I bring a fuffering gueft, With his family of grief ; Bid the weary pilgrims reft, Yield, O yield them fweet relief." OF SWITZERLAND. 15 Shep's Wife. " I will yield them fweet relief: Weary Pilgrims ! welcome here ; Welcome, family of grief 1 Welcome to my warmeft cheer." Wand. " If the prayers of broken hearts Rife acceptable above, Pitying Heaven will take our parts ; Helping Heaven reward your love." Sbcp. " Hafte, recruit the failing fire, High the winter-faggots raife : Seii the crackling flames afpire ; O how cheerfully they blaze! Mourners ! now forget your cares, And till fupper-board be crown'd, Clofely draw your fire-fide chairs ; Form the dear domeftic round." 15 THE WANDERER. Wand. " Hofb ! thy fmiling daughters bring, Bring thofe rofy lads of thine ; Let them mingle in the ring, With thefe poor loft babes of mine.*' Shep. " Join the ring, my girls and boys ; This enchanting circle, this Binds the focial loves and joys; "Tis the fairy-ring of blifs !" Wand. " O ye loves and joys ! that fport In the fairy-ring of blifs, Oft with me ye held your co^rt 5, I had once an home like this! Bountiful my former lot As my native-country's rills ; The foundations of my cot Were her everlafting hills. OF SWITZERLAND. But thofe ftreams no longer pour Rich abundance round my lands ; And my father's cot no more On my father's mountain ftands. By an hundred winters piled, When the Glaciers,* dark with death, Hang o'er precipices wild, Hang, fufpended by a breath : If a pulfe but throb alarm, Dafh'd ^own dreadful in a trice, For a pulfe will break the charm,- Headlong rolls the rock of ice : * Mor? properly the AVALANCHES ; immenfe accumulations f ice ant{ f'io-w y balanced on the verge of the mountains, in fuch fubt'.e fufpence, that in the opinion of the natives, the tread of the travtlfer may bring them doivn in deftruftion upon, him. The GLACIERS are more permanent maj/es of ice y and formed rather in tlu'vallles than on taefummits of the Alps. 13 THE WANDERER Struck with horror ftiff and pale, When the chaos breaks on- high, All that view it from the vale, All that hear it coming, die : In a day and hour accurft, O'er the wretched land of TELL, Thus the Gallic ruin .burft, Thus the Gallic glacier fell!" Sbcp* " Hufh that melancholy ftram ; Wipe thofe unavailing tears :" JJ'atiJ. " Nay, permit me to complain j 'Tis the privilege of years; ? Tis the privilege of woe, Thus her anguifh to impart : And the tears that freely flow Eafe the agonizing heart." OF SWITZERLAND. Shep. " Yet fufpend thy griefs awhile : See the plenteous table crown'd ; And my wife's endearing fmile Beams a rofy welcome round. Cheefe from mountain-dairies preft, Wholefome herbs, nutritious roots, Honey from the wild-bee's neft, Cheering wine, and ripen'd fruits : Thefe, with foul-fuftaining bread, My paternal fields afford ; On fuch fare our fathers fed ; Hoary Pilgrim! blcfs the board." 02 rns fjs.tr PART. THE WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND. Part II. After fupper, THE WAXDERES., at ibe dtfire of bis Hcjl, re- lates tbeforro'Wt and filterings of bis Country, curing the invafion and conjuejl of it ty tbe French, in connefiisn ivltl Lis ou'tifory. Step. "\VANDERE R ! bow'd with griefs andyears, Wanderer, with the cheek fo pale ! O give language to thofe tears ; Tell their melancholy tale." Wand. " Stranger-friend ! the tears that flow- Down the channels of this cheek, Tell a myftery of woe, \Vhiv;h no human tongue can fpeak. THE WANDERER, &C. Not the pangs of " Hope deferr'd" My tormented bofom tear : On that tomb of Hope interr'd Scowls the fpectre of Defpair. Where the Alpine fummits rife, Height o'er height ftupendous hurl'd ; Like the pillars of the ikies, Like the ramparts of the world : Born in Freedom's eagle neft, Rock'd by whirlwinds in their rage, Nurfed at Freedom's ftormy breaft, Lived my Sires from age to age. High o'er UNDERWALDEN'S vale, Where the foreft fronts the morn ; Whence the boundlefs eye might fail O'er a fea of mountains borne r THE WAMDERER There my little native cot Peep'd upon my father's farm - O it was a happy fpot, Rich in every rural charm ! There my life, a filent ftream, Glid along, yet feem'dat reft; Lovely as an infant's dream On the waking mother's breaft. Till the ftorm that wreck'd the world, In its horrible career, Into hopelefs ruin hurl'd All this aching heart held dear. On the princely towers of BERN i Fell the Gallic thunder-ftroke; To the lake of poor LUCERNE, All fubraitted to the yoke. OF SWITZERLAND. 25 REDING then his ftandard raifed, Drew his fword on BRUNNEN'S plain j* But in vain his banner blazed, REDING drew his fword in vain. Where our conquering fathers died; Where their awful bones repofe ; Thrice the battle's fate he tried, Thrice overthrew his country's foes f , at tie foot of tie mountains, on tie borderi file Lake of URI, tvbere thefrjl Sivifs Patriots, H r ALTEM. FURST of URI, WERNER STAUPFACHER of Scnmrz, and ARNOLD OP MELCHTHAL in UNDERWALDEN, confpired a- gainjl the tyranny of AUSTRIA, in 1 307, again in 1798 if tame t&efeat of the Diet oftbefe three forejl Cantons, f- On tie plains of MoRGARTHEN, iv/jere tie Sivift gained tbeir Jirjl decifive viflory over tie force of Aijiriai and thereby fecured the independence of their country, ALLOJ9 REDING, at the lead of tie troops of the little Cantons, URI t SCHWITZ and UxDERWALDEJt, repeatedly repulfedtbe invading *rmy 21< THE WANDERES. Happy then were thofe who fell, Fighting on their fathers' graves ! Wretched thofe who lived to tell Treachery made the vigors flaves.* Thus my country's life retired, Slowly driven from part to part ; UNDERWALDEN laft expired, UNDERWALDEN was the heart f * Sy the rtfjlance of 'tot fi fata! I Cantons, the French Ge- neral 6 HAWEMBOVRG ivat compelled to refpeSi their independ- ence, and gave them a folemn pledge to that purport : but no fooner bad they dif armed, on the faith of this engagement , than the Enemy came fuddenly upon them ivith an immenfe force ; and with threats of extermination compelled them to take the tivic oath to the neiu Conjlituiion, impoftd upon all SwiTZEK- LAXD. j- The inhabitants of the lower Falley of UNDES.WALDEN alone refijt;d the French meffage, ivhich required fubmijjion t the Neiv Confutation, and the immediate furrender, alive OF dead, of nine of their Leaders. When toe demand, accom- OF SWITZERLAND. In the valley of their birth, Where our guardian mountains {land ; In the eye of heaven and earth, Met the warriors of our land. Xike their Sires in olden time, Arm'd they met in ftern debate; While in every breaft fublime Glow 'd the SPIRIT OF THE GALLIA'S menace fired their blood; With one heart and voice they rofe : Hand in hand the heroes flood, Antf defied their faithlefs foes. pamed 6y a menace of Jejlruflion , wat read in toe Affembly of tie Dijlrift, ail the men of the valley, fiftcen.lundred i;i number , took up arms, and- devoted tbcwfifoes to perifa in tl^ ruins of their Country. THE WANDERED Then to heaven, in calm defpair, As they turn'd the tearlefs eye, Sy their country's wrongs they fware With their country's rights to die. ALBERT from the council came ; (My poor daughter was his wife ; All the valley loved his name ; ALBERT was my ftaff of life !) From the council-field he came ; All his noble vifage burn'd; At his look I caught the flame ; At his voice my youth returned. Fire from heaven my heart renew'd j Vigour beat thro* every vein; AH the powers, that age had hew'd, Started into ftrength again. OF SWITZERLAND. Sudden from my couch I fprang, Ever>' limb to life reftored; With the bound my cottage rang, As I fnatch'd my fathers' fword. This the weapon they did wield, OnMoRGARTHEN's dreadful day ; And thro' SEM PACK'S iron field, This the ploughfhare of their wav.* Then, my Spoufe ! in vain thy fears Strove my fury to reftrain ; O my Daughter ! all thy tears, All thy children's were in vain. * At tie tattle of SEXFACll, tie Adrians presented f impenetrable a front -with their frojetfed Jfrears, that tbc Swift were repeatedly compelled to retire from tie attack, illl a native ef UxDERWALDRN, named ARNOLD EE WlS- KELRIED, commenting his family to bis countrymen, fprang upon tie enemy, and burying as many of tleirffears as le could graft in Us lody, made a breach in their like ; the- Sivlfs rufod in, and routed the Adrians oiitb & terrible ftauglter* 2S THE V/AKDERER Quickly from our haftening foes, ALBERT'S active care removed, Far amidfl the* eternal fnows, Thefe who loved us, thefe beloved.* Then our cottage we forfook; Yet as down the fteeps we pafsM, Many an agonizing look Homeward o'er the hills we caft. Now we reach' d the nether glen, Where in arms our brethren lay ; Thrice five hundred fearlefs men, Men of adamant were they ! * Many of the UNDERrrjLDZHg, on tie approach of tie Frenth army, removed their families and cattle among tie ligler Alps ; and toemfelves returned to join tleir brethren, who lad encamped in tLeir native V alley ^ on tie borders ef tie Lake, and aivaiteJ tb: attack of tie enemy* OF SWITZERLAND. 2K' Nature's bulwarks, built by Time*. 'Gainft Eternity to ftand, Mountains, terribly fublime* Girt the camp on either hand... Dim behind the valley brake Into rocks that fled from view; ; , r Fair in front the gleaming lake Roll'd its waters bright and blue. . 'Midft the hamlets of the dale, STANTZ,* with fimple grandeur crown'd^ SeemM the Mother of the vale, - With her children fcatter'd round.. 'Midft the ruins of the dale, Now flic bows her hoary head*.. Like the Widow of the vale Weeping o'er her children dead. . * 'the Capital of U^ 33 THE WANDERER, &C. Happier then had been her fate, Ere flie fell by fuch a foe, Had an earthquake funk her ftatc,. Or the* lightning laid her low !" Shep. " Rather had the lightning's fiafli Quick confuraed thy country's foe ! Rather had the earthquake's crafh Laid her perjur'd tyrants low! Why did Juftice not prevail r" Wand. "Ah! it was not thus to be !" " Man of grief ! purfue thy tale To the death of Liberty." THE WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND. Part II I. The WdNDSRER continues bis narrative, and defcrtbet tit battle and majjacre of UNDERWALDEN. Wand. " FROM the valley we dcfcned, As the GAULS approach'd our fhores, Keels that darken'd all the tide, Tempefting the lake with oars. Then the mountain-echoes rang With the clangor of alarms: Shrill the fignal-trumpet fang,; All our warriors leap'd to arms. 32 THE WANDERER. On the margin of the flood, While the frantic foe drew nigh-; Grim as watching Wolves we flood, Prompt as Eagles ftretcht to fly. In a deluge upon land Burft their overwhelming might ; Back we hurlM them from the ftrand, Still returning to the fight. Still repulfed, their rage iricreafed, Till the waves were warm with blood; Still repulfed, they never ceafeJ, Till they founder'd in the flood.* * Tie French male tlelr frjl attack on the Valley of UxDERirJLDEy from the Lake ; but after a dcfperate con- fiifi they wire %'iflorioujly repelhd, and tivo of their veJfJii -containing Jive hundred men : fcsr'ijltd In ibs sn^cgement. OF SWITZERLAND. 3$ For on that triumphant day, UNDERWALDEN'S arms once more Broke Oppreflion's black array, Dafh'd Invafion from her more. GAUL'S furviving barks retired, Muttering vengeance as they fled ; Hope in us, by Victory fired, Raifed our Spirits from the dead. From the dead our Spirits rofe, To the dead they foon returned ; Bright, on its eternal clofe, UNDERWALDEN'S glory burn'd. Star of SWITZERLAND ! whofe rays Shed fuch fweet expiring light, Ere the GALLIC comet's blaze Swept thy beauty into night : m THE WANDERER Star of SWITZERLAND ! thy fame No recording Bard hath fung, Yet be thine immortal name Infpiration to my tongue 1* While the lingering moon delay'd In the wildernefs of night, Ere the morn awoke the made Into lovelinefs and light : GALLIA'S tigers, wild for blood, Darted on our fleeping fold ; Down the mountains, o'er the flood, Dark as thunderclouds they roll'd. * tie lajl and declftve battle the UliDERWALDEp.s -a: ere cvgrpowercd by tiuo French armies , which rujbed upon them from the opfojtfe mountains andfurrounded their camp, ivhilt an a/ault at the fame time was made upon thsm from the Late. OF SWITZERLAND. 35 By the trumpet's voice alarm'd, All the valley burft awake; All were in a moment arm'd From the barriers to the lake. In that valley, on that more, When the graves give up their dead, At the trumpet's voice once more Shall thofe flumberers quit their bed ! For the glen that gave them birth Hides their afhes in its womb : O 'tis venerable earth, Freedom's cradle, Freedom's tomb ! With fuch defolating mocks, Did the GAULS our camp afiail, As if UNDERWALDEN'S rocks Had beer, tumbling to the vale. 36 THE WANDERER Then on every fide begun That unutterable fight ; Never rofe the aftonifh'd fun On fo horrible a fight. Once an Eagle of the rock, ('Twas an omen of our fate,) Stoop'd, and from my fcatter'd flock Bore a lambkin to his mate. While the Parents fed their young, Lo ! a cloud of Vultures lean, By voracious famine ftung, Wildly-fcreaming rufh'd between. Fiercely fought the eagle-twain, Though by multitudes oppreft, Till their little ones were flam, Till they perifh'd on their ueft OF SWITZERLAND. More unequal was the fray, Which our band of brethren waged ; More infatiate o'er their prey, GAUL'S remorfelefs vultures raged. In innumerable waves, Swoln with fury, grim with blood, Headlong roll'd the hordes of flaves, And ingulph'd us with a flood. In the whirlpool of that flood, Firm in fortitude divine, Like the' eternal rocks, we ftood, In the cataraft of the Rhine.* Till by tenfold force afiaU'd, In a hurricane of fire, When at length our phalanx fail'd, Then our courage blazed the higher* * At SciUPpajtvsEN.See Coxz's Travelt. 3$ THE WANDERER Broken into feeble bands, Fighting in difTever'd parts, Weak and weaker grew our hands r Strong and ftronger ftill our hearts. Fierce amid the loud alarms, Shouting in the foremoft fray, Children raifed their little arm$ In their country's evil day. On their country's dying bed, Wives and hufbands pour'd their breath Many a Youth and Maiden bled, Married at thine altar, Death !* * In ibis miferaUe confuft, many of the Women and Children of tie UxSERWALDERS fought in the ranis, by their Hufbands and Fathers and Friends, and fell ghrioujly for their Country, OF SWITZERLAND. 39 Wildly fcatterM o'er the plain, Bloodier ftill the battle grew : O ye Spirits of the fiain ! Slain on thofe your prowefs flew: Who fhall now your deeds relate ? Ye that fell unwept, unknown ; Mourning for your country's fate, But rejoicing in your own ! Virtue, valour, nought avaiFd With fo mercilefs a foe ; When the nerves of heroes fail'd, Cowards then could ftrike a blow. Cold and keen the' afiaffin's blade Smote the father to the ground, Thro' the infant's breaft convey M To the Mother's heart a wound I* * An indifcritninate majfacre followed tbe battle. 1-0 THE WANDERER UNDER WALDEN thus expired, But at her expiring flame, With fraternal feeling fired, Lo, a band of SV/ITZERS came.* From the fteeps beyond the lake, Like a Winter's weight of fnow, When the huge Lavanges break, Devaftating all below ; f Down they rufii'd with headlong might, Swifter than the panting wind ; All before them fear and flight ! Death and filence all behind ! * Two hundred felf-dcvoted heroes from the Canton of SwiTZ arrived, at the clofe of the battle, to the aidofthsir Brethren of UNDERtfALDEN, and ferijbed to a man, after faavingjlain thrice their number. f The LAVANGES are tremendous torrents of melting fnow, that tumble from the tops of the Alps, and deluge all the Country before them. THE WANDERER, &C. 41 How the foreft of the foe Bow'd before their th under itrokes ! When they laid the cedars low ; When they overwhelmed the oaks ! Thus they hew'd their dreadful way ; Till by numbers forced to yield, Terrible in death they lay, Like the* AVENGERS OF THE FIELD !" OP rnL THE WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND. Part If. Tie WAXDE&EK relatei 4l>e circuiajlances attending th death cf ALBERT. &bep. PLEDGE the memory of the Brave, And the Spirits of the Dead ; Pledge the venerable Grave, Valour's confecrated bed. Wanderer ! this delicious cup, This infpiring goblet take ; Drink the beverage, drink it up, Far thy martfrM brethren's fake*" THE WANDER.E3, &C, 3 Wand. " Hail I all hail ! the Patriot's grave., Valour's venerable bed ! Hail! the memory of the Erave, And the Spirits of the dead ! Time their triumphs mall proclaim,, And their rich reward be this, Immortality of fame 1 Immortality of blifs i" Shep. " On that melancholy plain, In that conflict of defpair, How was noble ALBERT (lain ? How didft thou, old Warrior I fare j* Wand. M In the agony of ftrife> Where the heart of battle bled. Where his Country loft her lifej Glorious ALBERT bow'd his head. THE WANDERER When our phalanx broke away, And our ftouteft foldiers fell, .Where -the dark rocks dimm'd the day, Scowling o'er the deepeft dell j . There like Lions, old in blood, LionS rallying round their den, ALBERT and his warriors flood; We were few, but we were men ! Breaft to breaft we fought the ground,. Arm to arm repell'd the foe ; Every motion was a wound, And a death was every blow. Thus the clouds of funfet beam. Warmer with expiring light ; Thus autumnal meteors ftream Redder thro* the darkening night, OF SWITZERLAND. 4$ Miracles our champions wrought ; Who their dying deeds fliall tell ! O how gloriomly they fought ! How triumphantly they fell ! One by one gave up the ghoft, Slain, not conquer'd, they died free ! ALBERT flood, himfelf an hoft ! Laft of all the Swifs was He ! So when Night, with rifing fhade, Climbs the Alps from fleep to Iteep ; Till in hoary gloom array 'd, All the giant-mountains fleep; High in heaven their Monarch* (lands. Bright and beauteous from afar, Shining into diftant lands, Like a new-created ftar. * MONT BLANC; which isfo much higher than the fur* i-ounding d/fs, that it catches and retains the learnt of tie 46 THE WANDERER While I ftruggled thro' the fight, I ALBERT was my fword and fliield ; Till ftrange horror quench' d my fight, And I fainted on the field. Slow awakening from that trance, When my foul return'd to day, VaniftYd were the fiends of France, But in ALBERT'S blood I lay ! Slain for me, his deareft breath On my lips he did refign ; Slain for me, he fnatch'd his death From the blow that menaced mine. Sun twenty minutes earlier and later than tbey> and y crowned with eternal ice> may le Jler. from an immenfe dif- tance, purpling ivitb tis eajlern light, or crimfoned with bit fitting glory t 'while tnijl and obfiurity reft on tie mountains Mow. OF SWITZERLAND. 4T He had raifed his dying head, And was gazing on my face ; As I woke, the fpirit fled, But I felt his laft embrace." Sbep. " Man of fuffering I fuch a talc Would wring tears from marble eyes !'* Wand. "Hal my daughter's cheek grows pale!" #Vj mfe. Help, O help ! my daughter dies !" Wand. (( Calm thy tranfports, O my Wife ! Peace ! for thefe fweet orphans' fake l w W?t Wife.O my joy ! my hope ! my life 5 O my child! my child! awake!" Wand. " GOD ! O GOD ! whofe goodnefs gives 3 GOD ! whofe wifdom takes away ; 3pare my Child!" Shop. * She lives! me lives I " Wand. " Lives ? my Daughter ! didft thou fey ? 4 THE WANDERER GOD ALMIGHTY! on my knees, In the duft will I adore Thine unfearchable decrees ; She was dead! flie lives once more ! /T/j Daughter. " When poor ALBERT died, ne prayer Call'd him back to hated life : O that I had periftVd there, Not his widow, but his wife!" fflarid. " Dare my Daughter thus repine ? ALBERT ! anfwer from above ; Tell me, are thefe infants thine, Whom their Mother does not love? /fVj jD/r. ' Does net love 1 my Father. 1 hear, Hear me, or my heart will break j Dear is life, but only dear, for your fervice and their fake. OF SWITZERLAND. 45 Bow'd to Heaven's myfterious will, I am worthy yet of you : Yes! - 1 am a Mother ftill, Though I feel a Widow too ! Wand. "Mother? Widow! Daughter ! all, All kind names in one, my Child ! On thy faithful neck I fall ; Kifs me, - are we reconciled 2" Wls Dtr. " Yes! to ALBERT I appeal ; ALBERT! anfwer from above, That my Father's breaft may Feel All his Daughter's heart of love." Wife*" Faint and way-worn as they be With the day's long journey, Sire ! Let thy pilgrim family Now with me to reft retire,'* F, 50 THE WANDERER, &C. Wand* " Yes, the hour invites to fieepj Till the morrow we muft part ; Nay, my Daughter! do not weep, Do not weep, and break my heart. Sorrow-foothing, fweet repofe On your peaceful pillows light ; Angel-hands your eyelids clofe ; Antf GOD blefs you all ! good night ! THE FOURTH THE OF Part V. Toe Wxst>**-**-l" n g Jeff alone will tie SasftoXRB, rs- ' laies bis adventure: after tbt lattlf of $bep. " "WHEN the good man yields his breath, For the good man never dies, Bright beyond the gulph of death> La! the Land of Promife lies. Peace to ALBERT'S awful fhade, la that land where forrows ceafe ! And to ALBERT'S afhes, laid In the earth's cold bofom, Peace ! n 52 THE WANDERER ll r and. On the fatal fold I lay Till the hour, when twilight pale, Like the ghoft of dying day, Wander 'd down the darkening vale* Then in agony I rofe, And -with horror look'd around, Where embracing, friends and foes* Dead and dying, ftrew'd the ground. Many a widow fix'd her eye, Weeping, where her hufband bled, % Heedlefs, though her babe was by Prattling to his father dead. Many, a Mother, ia defpaix, Turning up the ghaftly (lain,. Sought her fon, her hero there* Whom (he long'd to feek in vaki I: OF SWITZERLAND D&k the evening fhadows roll'd On the eye that gleam'd in death ,' And the evening-dews fell cold On the lip that gafp'd for .breath*. As J gazed, an ancient Dame,. She was childlefs by her look!. With refreshing cordials came ;, . . Of her bounty I partook, Then, with dfperation bold,. ALBERT'S precious corpfe I bore On thefe fhoulders weak and old^ j Bo.w'd with, mifery before* ALBERT'S Angel ga-we me ftrcn-gi% As I ftagger'd down the glen ;- And ^.hid my charge at length , Jn its wildeft^ deepeft, dep. THE WANDERER Then returning through the fhsde To the battle-fcene, I fought 'Mongft the flain, an axe and fpade ; Withfuch weapons FREE MEN fought. Scythes for fwords oar youth There his hallow'd limbs repofe. Tears then, tears too long repreft, Guflr.d ; they fell like healing balm, Till the whirlwind in my brcaft Died into a dreary calm. OF SWITZERLAND. $$ On the frefh earth's humid bed, Where my Martyr lay enfhrined, This forlorn, unhappy head> Crazed with anguifh, I reclined. But while o'er my weary eyes, Soothing (lumber feem'd to creep* Forth I fprang, with ftrange furpriz^ From the clafping arms of fleep. For the bones of ALBERT dead Heaved the turf with horrid throe$> And his grave, beneath my headj Burft afunder 5 ALBERT rofe *. . <' Aye ! ny hc.*it, unwoat Lo yield, -Quickly qudl'd the ftrange affrigh 1 -, 1 o'er the field, 1 be^an my lonely fli w Loud the gutty aigiit-wind blew 5 Mar>y an awful paufe between j Fits of light and darknefs fle\v, Wild and fuddei^ o'er the fcene. For the nvoon's refplendent e;*e Gleams of tranfient glory fhed ; And the clouds athwart the f!; ; *, Like a routed army fi-j-J. Sounds and voices fill'd t!ie vale^ Heard alternate, loud and low ; Shouts of victory fwell'd the gals/ But the breezes murmur'd w N G. WANDERER As I climb'd the mountain's side^ Where the lake and valley meet, All my country's power and prid? Lay in ruins at my feet. On that grim and ghaftly plain, UNDERWALDEN'S heart-firings broke] When me faw her heroes flain, And her rocks receive the yoke. On that plain, in childhood's hourSj From their Mothers' arms set free, Oft thofe heroes gatherM flowers, Often chaced the wandering bee. On that plain, in rofy youth, They had fed their fathers' flocks, Told their love, and pledged their truth, In .the ihadow of thofc rock?. OF SWITZERLAND There with fhepherd's pipe and fong, In the merry-mingling dance, Once^they led their brides along, Perdition seize thee, France " Heard not Heaven the* accufmg cries Of the blood that fmoked around, While the life-warm facrifice Palpitated on the ground?'* JTand. t( Wrath in filence heaps his ftorfi To confound the guilty foe 5 But the thunder will not roar, Till the flafh has ftruck the blo\r, . ' Vengeance, Vengeance will not ftay * It lhall burft on GALLIA'S head, Sudden as the judgment-day To the unexpecVmg dead. IrHE From the Revolution's fiooJ, Shall a fiery Dragon flart ; He fhall drink his Mother's bJooc, He fhail cat his Father's heart : Kurft by Anarchy and Crime, He, but diftar.ee mocks my fig - O thou great avenger, TIME I '2 thy (Irangeil Birth to light." j. By the ir.idnight tempeft toft, In a fea of vapours dai-k, fn a gulph of clouds was loft ; F SWITZERLAND. Yet my journey I purfaed, Climbing many a weary fteep, Whence the doling fcene I view'd With an eye, that would not weep. STANTZ, a melancholy pyre ! And h^r hamlets blazed behind, With ten thoufand tongues of fire, Writhing, raging in the wind.* Flaming piles, where'er I turn'd, Caft a grim and dreadful light ; Like funereal lamps they buni'd In the fcpulchre of night : * fie tj-wn of STANTZ, and tie fur rounding Tver: burnt by tbe French, on tie nisfjt after tie battle of N, and tie faaut'iful valley wat converttd into ^ the red illumined Eocd, With & hoarfe and hollow roar, Seem'd a lake of living blood, Wildly weltering on the fhore. ? Mid# the mountains, far awiy, Soon I fpied the facred fpot, Whence a How-confuming ray Glimmer'd from my native cot. At the fight my brain was fired, And afrelh my heart's wounds bled : Still I gazed ; the fpark expired, Nature feem'd extind! I fled:-* Fled, and ere the noon of day, Reach'd the lonely Goatherd's neft, V . re my wife, my children lay : -liufband ! Father ! think the reft,'* r::o OF 7 as FIFTH pjxr. THE WANDERER OF S Part /Y. tm WANDERER Informs THE SHEPHERD, tlat, after t&* txample of many of bis Countrymen Jtying from the tyran-* ny of FRANCE, it is bis intention tc fettle in fame remote Province of Amsrifa. . VV AVDIM1 ! whither would the* roam? To what region far away, Bend thy fteps to find an home, In the twilight of thy day i" Wand. " In the twilight of my day, I am haflening to the weft ; There my weary limbs to lay, Where the fun retires to ret. Ct THE WANDERER Par beyond the* Atlantic floods, Stretch'd beneath the evening 4ky, Realms of mountains, dark with wcoJs, In COLUMBIA'S bofom lie* There in gkns and caverns rude^ Silent fince the world began* Dwells the Virgin Solitude, Unbetray'd by faithltfs man ^ Where a tyrant never trod, Where a flave was never kno\v", But where Nature worfliips Goi> In the wildcrnefs alone : Thither, thither would I roam Tfeere my children may be free j I for them will find an home y , .They fhall and a grave for tn *. OF SWITZERLAND. Though my fathers' bonss afcup In their native land repofe, Yet beneath the twilight ftar .Soft on mine the turf fliall clofc. Though the mould that wraps When this florm of life is o'er, Never, never, never lay On a human breaft before : . Yet in fweet communion there, When fhe follows to the dead, Shall my bofom's partner mars Her poor hufband's lowly bed. ALBERT'S babes fliall deck our tomb, And my daughter's duteous tears Bid the flowery hillock bloom, Thro* the winter-wafte of years* G. fjl* THE WANDERER Sbep. " Time ! thy chariot-wheels delay ; Death! untiring thy bended bow ; Sun ! forget to bring the day, Which lhall lay the WANDERER low !" V.'jtnd. " Though our Parent perifh'd here. Like the Phcenix on her neft, Lo ! new-fledged her wings appear, Hovering in the golden weft. Thither lhall her fons repair, And beyond the roaring main, Find their native country there, Find their SWITZERLAND again. Mountains! can ye chain the will ? Ocean ! canft thou quench the heart? No ! I feel my Country ftill, LIBERTY! where'er thou art. OF SWITZERLAND. ^ Thus it was in hoary time, When our fathers Tallied forth, Full of confidence fublime, From the famine-wafted North.* * Freedom in a land of rocks, " Wild as Scandinavia, give, "POWER ETERNAL ! where our flocks^ " And our little one? may live !" * There :s a tradition among the Swiss, tlat they are dt- fccndfd ft om the ancient Scandinavians ; among -whom, in a remote age, there arofe fo grievous a famine, that It was de- termined in toe Ajjcmbly of the Nation, that every tenth man and bis family jb'jiild quit their country, and.feek a n?tu pnf- fejjlon. Six thoufand, chof.n by lot, tbxs emigrated at cn:e from tie North. They frayed to GOD tj conduti them to a land like their otvn, ivhere they might dioell in freedom and quiet, finding food for their families and pajlurefor their cat- He. GOD, fjys the tradition, led them to a Valley among the Alps, tuhere they cleared aivay the for efts, built the toivn of and afterwards pcophd and cultivated the Cantons of tg THE WANDERER. Thus they pray'd ; a fecret hand Led them, by a path unknown, To that dear delightful land, Which I yet muft call my own. To the Vale of SWITZ they came : Soon their meliorating toil Gave the forefts to the flame, And their afhes to the foil. Thence their ardent labours fpread, Till above the mountain-fnows Towering Beauty fhew'd her head* And a new creation rofe ! So, in regions wild and wide, We will pierce the favage woods, Clothe the rocks in purple pride* Plough the vallieg; tame the floods. OF SWITZERLAND. 6 Till a beauteous inland-ifle, By a foreft-fea embraced, Shall make Defolation fmile In the depth of his own wafte. There, unenvied and unknown, We fhall dwell fecure and free, In a country all our own, In a land of Liberty!" Sbep. f Yet the wood s, the rocks, the ftreams, Unbeloved, Ihall bring to mind, Warm with Evening's purple beams, Dearer objects left behind : And thy native country's fong Caroll'd in a foreign clime, When new echoes mall prolong, Simple, tender and fublime : - 70 THE WANDERER How will thy poor cheek turn pale t And before thy banifh'd eyes, UNDLRWALDEN'S charming vale, And thine own fweet cottage rife !" Wand. < ' By the glorious ghoft of TELL I I By MCRG ART HEN'S awful frayl By the field where ALBERT fell In thy laft and bitter day! SOUL OF SWITZERLAND I arife: Ha! the fpell has 'waked the dead Prom her afhes to the fkies, SWITZERLAND exalts her head. See the Queen of Mountains (land, In immortal mail complete, Witk the lightning in- her hand, And the Alps beneath her feet. OF SWITZERLAND. Hark! her voice : My fons! awake ; Freedom dawns, behold the day ! " From the bed of bondage break, 'is your Mother calls, obey !" At the found our fathers' graves, On each ancient battle-plain, . Utter groans, and tofs like waves When the wild blaft fweeps the mam. Rife, my Brethren ! caft away All the chains that bind you flavcs 5 Rife, your Mother's voice obey, And appeafe your fathers' graves. Strike, the conflict is begun ; Freemen ! Soldiers i follow me j Shout, the Victory is won, SWITZERLAND AND LIBERTY!"" 2 THE WANDERED, Sbet. " Warrior! Warrior! flay thine aim! Sheathe, O flieathe thy frantic ftvord I" Wand. " Ah ! I rave ! I faint ! the charm flies, and memory is reftoredJ Yes, to agony reftored From the too tranfporting charm : Sleep forever, O my Avord ! Be thou withered, O mine arm i SWITZERLAND is but a name ! Yet I feel where'er I roam, That my heart is ftill the fame ; SWITZERLAND is ftill my home I" END OP T3E SIXTX .LV.D IMT PART, THE GRAVE, THERE is a calm for thofe who weep) A reft for weary Pilgrims found, They foftly lie and fweetly fleep, Low in the ground. The ftorm that wrecks the winter iky, No more disturbs their deep repofe, Than fummer evening's lateft figh, That fhuts the rofc. I long to lay this painful head And aching heart beneath the foil, To flumber in that dreamlefs bed From all my toil. 74 THE GRAVE. For Mifery ftole me at my birth, And caft me htlplefs on the wild; I perifhj O my Mother Earth ! Take home thy Child! On thy dear lap thefe limbs reclined Shall gently moulder into thee ; Nor leave one wretched trace behind, Refembling me. Hark ! a ftrange found affrights mine ear; My pulfe, my brain runs, wild, I rave: Ah ! who art thou whofe voice I hear? I am THE GRAVE I "The GRAVE, that never fpake before, Hath found at length a tongue to chide : O lift en ! I will fpeak no more : Be fiknt, Pride ! THE GRATE. 75 Aft thou a WRETCH, of hope forlorn, The victim of confuming care ? Is thy diffracted conference torn By fell defpair ? * Do foul mifdeeds of former times Wring with remorfe thy guilty breaft And Ghofts of unforgiven crimes ! Murder thy reft ? c Lafh'd by the furies of the mind, From wrath and vengeance wouldft thpu flee ? Ah ! think net, hope not, Fool ! to find A friend in me. " By all the terrors of the tomb, Beyond the power of tongue to tell ! By the dread fecrets of my womb ! By Death and Hell! GRATE, " I charge thee LIVE .'repent and pray; In duft thine infamy deplore ;. There yet is raercy; go thy way, And fin no more. Art thou aMOURNER ? Haft thou know The joy of innocent delights ? Endearing days forever flown, And tranquil nights ? O LIVE ! and deeply cherifh fcilT The ftveet remembrance of the paft : Rely on Heaven's unchanging will For peace at lafh Art thou a WANDERER ? Haft thou fer O'envhelming tempefls drown thy bark ? A ffcipwreck'd Sufferer haft thou been, fcibfortune's mark 2 THE GRAVE. 7f < Though long of winds and waves the fport, Condemned in wretchednefs to roam, LIVE ! thou fhalt reach a flickering port, A quiet home. * To FRIENDSHIP didft thou truft thy fame. And was thy Friend a deadly foe, Who ftole into thy breaft to aim A furer blow ? " LIVE ! and repine not o'er his lo% A lofs unworthy to be told: Thou haft miftaken fordid drofs For Friendfhip's golcf. * Go feek that treafure, feldom found, Of power the fierceft griefs to calm, , And footke the bofom's deepeft wound With heavenly balm- 5^ THE GRAVE, In WOMAN haft thou placed thy bills, And did the Fair One faithlefs prove 2 Hath flie betray'd thee with a kifs, And fold thy love ? ^.LIVE ! 'twas a falfe bewildering fire, Too often Love's inlidious dart Thrills the fond foul with fweet defire, But kills the heart. A nobler flame {hall warm thy breaft, A brighter Maiden's virtuous charms ! Bled fhalt thou be, fupremely bleft, In Beauty's arms. tt Whate'er thy lot, Whoe'er thou be,- Confefs thy folly, kifs the rod, And in thy chaftening forrows fee The hand of GOD, THE GRAVE. ft A bruifed reed he will not break, Afflfctions all his children feel; He wounds them for his mercy's fake, He wounds to heal ! " Humbled beneath his mighty hand, Proftrate his Providence adore : 'Tis done! Arife ! HE bids thee (tand a To fall no more. " Now, Traveller in the vale of tears I To realms of everlafting light, Through Time's dark wildernefs of years, Purfue thy flight. ft There IS a calm for thofe who weep, A reft for weaiy Pilgrims found ; And while the mouldering afties fleep, Low in the ground ; THE GRATE. " The Soul, of origin divine, GOD'S glorious image, freed from clay, In heaven's eternal fphere fhall mine, A ftar of day ! The SUN is but a fpark of fire, A tranfient meteor in the fky ; The SOUL, immortal as its Sire, SHALL NEVER DIE." THE LYRE. "AH! \VHO WOULD LOVE THE LYRE!" G. A, Stevens, W HERE the roving rill meander'd Down the green, retiring vale, Poor, forlorn ALC.^EUS wander'd, Pale with thought, ferenely pale : Hopelefs forrow, o'er his face Breathed a melancholy grace, And fix'd on every feature there The mournful refignatio^gf defpair. 82 THE LYRE. O'er his arm, his lyre neglected, Coldly, carelefsly he flung ; And, in fpirit deep dejected, Thus the penfive Poet fung ; While, at midnight's folemn noon, Sweetly ftione the cloudlefs moon, And all the ftars, around his head, Benignly bright, their mildeft influence flied. " Lyre ! O, Lyre ! my chofen treafure, " Solace of my bleeding heart ; * Lyre ! O, Lyre ! my only pleafure, te We muft ever, ever part : " 'Tis in vain thy Poet fings, " Wooes in vain thine heavenly firings, " The Mufe's wretched Sons are born To cold neglecl, and penury, and fcorn. THE LYRE. 83 " That which ALEXANDER figh'd for, That which CESAR'S foul pofiefs'd, That which Heroes, Kings have died for, " Glory ! animates my breaft : ** Hark ! the charging trumpets' throats " Pour their death-defying notes ; " To arms !" they call ; to arms I fly, "LikeWoLFEto conquer and like WOLFE to die! " Soft '.the blood of murder'd legions " Summons vengeance from the ikies ; *' Flaming towns, and ravaged regions, " All in awful judgment rife ! " O then, innocently brave, " I will wreftle with the wave ; " Lo ! Commerce fpreads the daring fail, And yokes her naval chariots to the gale. S4 THE LYRE. " Blow ye breezes ! gently blowing, " Waft me to that happy fliore, " Where, from fountains ever flowing, 44 Indian realms their treafures pour ; " Thence returning, poor in health, " Rich in honefty and wealth, " O'er thee, my dear paternal foil ! " I'll ftrew the golden harveft of my toil. " Then (hall Mifery's fons and daughters " In their lowly dwellings fing ; < Bounteous as the Nile's dark water?, " Undifcover'd as their fpring, I will fcatter, o'er the land, " ELiiings with a fecret hand ; " For fuch angelic talks defign'd, " I give the Lyre and forrow to the wind." THE LYRE. 85 On an oak, whofe branches hoary Sigh'd to every paffing breeze, Sigh'd, and told the fimple flory Of the patriarch of trees; High in air his harp he hung, Now no more to rapture fining ; Then warm in hope, no longer pale, He blufhM adieu, and rambled down the dale. Lightly touch'd by fairy fingers, Hark ! the Lyre enchants the wind; Fond ALC^EUS liflens, lingers, Lingering, liftening, looks behind Now the mufic mounts on high, Sweetly fwelling through the Iky ; To every tone, with tender heat, His heart-firings vibrate, and his pulfes beat. 86 THE LYRE. Now the ft rains to filence ftealing, Soft in ecftacies expire ; Oh ! with what romantic feeling Poor ALC^EUS grafps the Lyre ! Lo ! his furious hand he flings, In a tempeft o'er the firings ; He ftrikes the chords fo quick, fo loud, 'TisJovE that fcatters lightning from a cloud ! " Lyre ! O, Lyre ! my chofen treafure, " Solace of my bleeding heart ; 4< Lyre ! O, Lyre ! my only pleafure, " We will never, never part ! w Glory, Commerce, now in vain, Tempt me to the field, the main ; The Mufe's Sons are bleft, tho' born " To cold negled, and penury, and fcorn. THE LYRE, 87 " What, tho* all the world neglect me, " Shall my haughty foul repine ? " And (hall poverty deject me, " While this hallow'd lyre is mine ? Heaven, that o'er my helplefs head, " Many a wrathful vial fhed, 1 " Heaven gave this lyre ! and thus decreed, Be thou a bruifed, but not a broken reed I" REMONSTRANCE TO WINTER. AH ! why, unfeeling WINTER ! why Still flags thy torpid wing ? Fly, melancholy Seafon, fly, And yield the year to SPRING. SPRING, the young cherubim of love, An exile in difgrace, Flits o'er the fcene, like NOAH'S dove, Nor finds a refting place. When on the mountain's azure peak, Alights her fairy form, Cold blow the winds, and dark and bleak, Around her rolls the ftorm. REMONSTRANCE TO WINTER*, If to the valley fhe repair For ihelter and defence, Thy wrath purfues the mourner there* And drives her, weeping, thence. She feeks the brookthe faithlefs brook, Of her unmindful grown, feels the chill magic of thy look, And lingers into (tone. She wooes her embryo-flowers in vain, To rear their infant.heads ; Deaf to her voice, her flowers remain Enchanted in their beds. In vam ftie bids the trees expand Their green luxuriant charms; ~-Bare in the wildernefs they fland, And ftretch their withering aims* 90 REMONSTRANCE TO WINTER, Her favourite birds, in feeble notes, Lament thy long delay; And ftrain their little Hammering throats, To charm thy blafts away. Ah! WINTER, calm thy cruel rage, Releafe the ftruggling year ; Thy power is paft, decrepid Sage Arife and difappear. The ftars that graced thy fplendid night Are loft in warmer rays ; The Sun, rejoicing in his might, Unrolls celeftial days. Then why, ufurping WINTER, why Still flags thy frozen wing ? Fly, unrelenting tyrant, fly And yield the year to Spring ! SONG. ROUND LOVE'S Elyfian bowers, The fofteft profpefts rife ; There bloom the fweeteft flowers, There ihine the pureft ikies, And joy and rapture gild awhile The cloudlefs heaven of BEAUTY'S fmilc. Round LOVE'S deferted bowers Tremendous rocks arife ; Gold mildews blight the flowers, Tornadoes rend the Ikies, And PLEASURE'S waning moon goes down Amid the night of BEAUTY'S frown. SONG. Then YOUTH, thou fond believer I The wily Syren fliun: Who trufts the dear Deceiver Will furely be undone ! When BEAUTY triumphs, ah ! beware, -Her fmile is hope J^her frown defpair ! THE FO WLER, A SONG ; ALTERED FROM A GERMAN AIR, IN THE OPERA Ol "DIE ZAtfBERFi.6rE," SET TO MUSIC BY MOZART. CARELESS, whittling Lad am I, On fky-Iark wings my moments fly ; There's not a FOWLER more renown'd In all the world for ten miles round ! Ah ! -who like me can fpread the net ? Or tune the merry flageolet . ? Then, why, O ! why mould I repine, Since all the roving birds are mine ? 94- THE FOWLER. The thrufh and linnet in the vale, The fweet fequefter'd nightingale, The bullfinch, wren and woodlark, aft Obey my fummons when I call : O ! could I form fome cunning foare To catch the coy, coquetting fair, In CUPID'S filmy web fo fine, The pretty girls fhould all be mine ? When all were mine,-^among the reft 3 I'd chufe the Lafs I liked the beft, And mould my charming mate be kind, And fmile, and kifs me to my mind, With her I'd tie the nuptial knot, Make HYMEN'S cage of my poor cot, . And love away this fleeting life, Like Robin Redbreaft and his wife ! SONG; WRITTEN FOR. A coxnriAL SOCIETT, WHOSE MOTTO irjs " FRIENDSHIP, LOVE AND TRUTH." HEN "Friendftiip, Love and Truth'* abound Among a band of BROTHERS, The cup of joy goes gayly round, Each lhares the blifs of others : "Sweet rofes grace the thorny way Along this vale of forrow; The flowers that filed their leaves to day, Shall bloom again tomorrow : How grand in age, how fair in youth, Are holy "FRIENDSHIP, LOVE and TRUTH !" On Halcyon wings our moments pafs, Life's cruel cares beguiling ; k * Old TIME lays down his fcythe and glafs, In gay good humour fmiling : 96 SONG. With ermine beard and forelock grey, His reverend front adorning, He looks lite Winter turn'd to May, Night foften'd into Morning ! How grand in age, how fair in youth, Are holy " FRIENDSHIP, LOVE and TRUTH ! From thefe delightful fountains flow Ambrofial rills of pleafure ; Can man defire, can heaven beftow A more refplendent treafure ? Adorn'd with gems fo richly bright, We'll form a Conftellation, Where every Star, with modeft light, Shall gild his proper ftation. How grand in age, how fair in youth, Are holy " FRIENDSHIP, LOVE and TRUTH !** RELIGION. 4N OCCASIONAL HYMN. J. HRO* ftiades and folitudes profound, The fainting traveller winds his way ; Bewildering meteors glare around, And tempt his wandering feet aftray : Welcome, thrice welcome, to his eye, The fudden moon's infpiring light,. When forth fhe Tallies thro* the iky, The guardian Angel of the night I Thus mortals blind and weak, below Purfue the phantom Blifs, in vain ; The world's a wildernefs of woe, Anq! life a pilgrimage of pain ! 98 HYMN. Till mild RELIGION, from above, Defcends, a fweet engaging form, The mefienger of heavenly love, The bow of prcmife in a ftorm ! Then guilty paffions wing their flight, Sorrow, remorfe, affli&ion ceafe ; RELIGION'S yoke is foft and light, And all her paths are paths of peace* Ambition, pride, revenge depart, And folly flies her chaftening rod ; She makes the humble contrite heart, A temple of the living GOD. Beyond the narrow vale of time, Where bright celeftial ages roll, To fcenes eternal, fcenes fublime, She points the way and leads the foul HYMN. At her approach the" Grave appears The Gate of Paradife reftored ; Her voice the watching Cherub hears, And drops his double-flaming fword. Baptized with her renewing fire, May we the crown of glory gain 5 Rife when the Hoft of Heaven expire. And reign with GOD, for ever reign, "THE JOY OF GRIEF." OSSIJN* SWEET the hour of tribulation, When the heart can freely figh ; And the tear of refigiution Twinkles in the mournful eye. Have you felt a kind emotion Tremble through your troubled breafb j. Soft as evening o'er the ocean, TViien fhe charms the waves to reft ? Have you loft a friend, a brother ? Heard a Cither's parting breath ? Gazed upon a li&lefs mother, he feem'd to wake from death ? THE JOY OP QRIEP. l-0> Have you felt a fpoufe expiring In your arms, before your view ? Watch'd the lovely foul retiring From her eyes, that broke on you I Did not grief then .grow romantic, Raving on remember'd blifs ? Did you not, with fervour frantic, Kifs the lips that felt no kifs Yes ! but, when you had refign'd her, Life and you were reconciled ; ANNA left me left behind her, One, one dear, one only child. But before the green mofs peeping, His poor mother's grave array'd, In that grave, the infant fleeping On the mother's lap was laid... \{)2 THE JOY OF GRIEF. Horror then, your heart congealing, Chiird you with intenfe defpair; Can you recoiled the feeling ?^ No ! there was no feeling there I From that gloomy trance of forrow, When you woke to pangs unknown* How unwelcome was the morrow, For it rofe on YOU ALONE 1 Sunk in felf-confuming anguilh, Can the poor heart always ache ? No, the tortured nerve will languifh, Or the firings of life muft break. O'er the yielding brow of fadnefs, One faint finile of comfort ftole ;. One foft pang of tender gladnefs Exquifitely thriird your foul. THE JOY OF GRIEF. IQ3 'While the wounds of woe are healing, While the heart is all refign'd, "Tie the folemn feaft of feeling, "Tis the fabbath of the mind. Penfive memory then retraces Scenes of blifs for ever fled, Lives in former times and places, Holds communion with the dead. And, when night's prophetic flumbers Rend the veil to mortal eyes, From their tombs, the fainted numbers Of our loft companions rife. You have feen a friend, a brother, Heard a dear dead father fpeak ; Proved the fondnefs of a mother, Felt her teais \iponyoui cheek ! 104- THE JOY OF GRIEF. Dreams of love your grief beguiling, You have clafp'd a conforms charms, And received your infant finiling From his mother's facred arms. Trembling, pale, and agonizing, While you mourn'd the vifion gone, Bright the morning ftar arifing Open'd heaven, from whence it (hone. Thither all your wi flies bending Rofe in extacy fublime, Thither all your hopes afcending Triumph J d over death and time. Thus afflicted, bruifed and broken, Have you known fuch fweet relief f Yes, my friend ! and, by this token, You have felt " THE JOY OF GRIEF." tHE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA, * # * At Thebes, in ancient Egypt, was erected a ifbi- tueof Memnon, with an harp in his hand, which is faid to have hailed with delightful mufic the rifing fun, and in melancholy tones to have mourn- ed his departure. The introduction of this cele- brated Lyre, on a modern occafion, will be cenfured as an Anachronifm by thofe only, who think that its chords have been touched unfkilfully. ARP of MEMXON ! fweetly ftrung To the mufic of the fpheres; While the Hero's dirge is fung, Breathe enchantment to our ears* As the fun's defcending beams, Glancing o'er thy feeling wire, Kindle every chord, that gleams kike a ray of heavenly fire : o, J06 THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA. Let thy numbers, foft and flow, O'er the plain with carnage fpread, Soothe the dying, while they flow To the memory of the dead. Bright as VENUS, newly born, Blufhing at her maiden charms j Frefh from ocean rofe the Morn, When the trumpet blew to arms. O that Time had ftay'd his flight, Ere that Morning left the main ; Fatal as the EGYPTIAN night, When the eldeft born were flain ! Lafli'd to madnefs by the wind, As the Red-fea-furges roar, Leave a gloomy gulph behind, And devour the fhrinking fliore: THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA. 107 Thus, with overwhelming pride, GALLIA'S brighteft, boldeft boaft, Iii a deep and dreadful tide, Roll'd upon the BRITISH hoft. k Dauntlefs thefe their flation held, Though, with unextinguifliM ire, GALLIA'S legions, thrice repell'd, Thrice returned through blood and fire. Thus, above the ftorms of time, Towering to the facred fpheres, Stand the Pyramids fublime, Rocks amid the flood of years ! Now the Veteran CHIEF drew nigh ; Conqueft cowering on his ere ft, Valour beaming from his eye, P'ty bleeding in his breaft. 103 THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA* BRITAIN faw him thus advance, In her Guardian-Angel's form ; But he lower'd on hoftile FRANCE, Like the Daemon of the Storm. On the whirlwind of the war, High he rode in vengeance dire ; To his friends a leading Aar, To his foes confuming fire- Then the mighty pour'd their breath> Slaughter feafted on the brave ; 'Twas the Carnival of Death! 'Twas the Vintage of the Grave I Charged with ABERCROMBIE'S doom,,. Lightning wing'd a cruel ball : Twas the Herald of the Tomb, And the HERO felt the calk .THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA. 109 Felt and raifed his arm on high, Vi&ory well the fignal knew, Darted from his awful eye, And the force of FRANCE o'erthrew* But the horrors of that fight, Were the weeping MUSE to tell; O 'twould cleave the womb of night> And awake the dead that fell i GalVd with honourable fears, Low in Glory's lap they lie : Though they fell, they fell like ftars, Streaming fplendour through the flcy* Yet mall Memory mourn that day, When with expectation pale> Of her foldier far away, The poor widow hears the tale. 110 THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA. In imagination wild, She ftiall wander o'er this plain ; Rave, and bid her orphan child Seek his fire among the flain. Gently, from the Weftern deep, O ye evening breezes rife ! O'er the Lyre of MEMNON fweep, Wake its fpirit with your fighs. Harp of MEMNON ! fweetly fining To the mufic of the fpheres ; While the Hero's dirge is fung, Breathe enchantment to our ears. Let thy numbers foft and flow, O'er the plain with carnage fpread^. Soothe the dying, while they flow- To the memory of the dead. THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA. ]'] 1. None bir 1 folemn, tender tones, Tremble iron thy plaintive wires ; Hark! the wounded WARRIOR groans ! Hufii thy warbling, he expires. Hufh ! while Sorrow wakes and weeps : O'er his relicks cold and pale, Night her filent vigil keeps, In a mournful moonlight veil. / Harp of M E M N o N ! from afar Ere the lark falute the iky, Watch the rifing of the ftar, That proclaims the morning nigh. Soon the fun's afcending rays, In a flood of hallow'd fire, O'er thy kindling chords fhall blaze, And thy magic foul infpire. 112 THE BATTLE OF ALEXANDRIA, Then thy tones triumphant pour, Let them pierce the Hero's grave ; Life's tumultuous battle o'er, O how fweetly fleep the brave ! From the duft their laurels bloom, High they flioot, and flourifh free ; XJlory's temple is the tomb ! Death is immortality ! THE PILLOW. 1 HE head that oft this PILLOW prefs'd, That aching head, is gone to reft; It's little pleafures now no more, < And all its mighty forrows o'er, For ever, in the worm's dark bed, For ever fleeps that humble head ! MY FRIEND was young, the world was new ; The world was falfe, MY FRIEND was true; Lowly his lot, his birth obfcure, His fortune hard, MY FRIEND was poor; h 114 THE PILLOW. To wifdom he had no pretence, A child of fuffering, not of fenfe ; For NATURE never did impart A weaker head, a warmer heart. His fervent foul, a foul of flame, Confumed its frail terreftrial frame ; That fire from Heaven fo fiercely burn'd, That whence it came it foon return M : And yet, O PILLOW ! yet to me, My gentle FRIEND furvives in thee, In thee, the partner of his bed, In thee, the widow of the dead! On HELICON'S infpiring brink, Ere yet MY FRIEND had learn'd to think, Once as he pafs'd the carelefs day Among the whifpering reeds at play, The MUSE OF SORROW wander'dby; Her penfive beauty fix'd his eye ; THE PILLOW. With fweet aftoniihment he fmiledf The Gipfey faw flie ftole the child ; And foft on her ambrofial breaft Sang the delighted babe to reft, Convey'd him to her inmoft grove, And loved him with a Mother's love. Awakening from his rofy nap, And gayly fporting on her lap, His wanton fingers o'er her lyre Twinkled like electric fire ; Quick and quicker as they flew, Sweet and fweeter tones they drew: Now a bolder hand he flings, And dives among the deepeft firings 5 Then forth the mufic brake like thunder} Back he ftarted, wild with wonder ! The MUSE OF SORROW wept for joy, And clafp'd and kifs'd her chofen boy. ilG THE PILLOW. Ah ! then no more his fmiling hours Were fpent in Childhood's Eden-bowers, The fall from Infant-innocence, The fall to knowledge, drives us thence : O knowledge ! worthlefs at the price, Bought with the lofs of PARADISE ! As happy ignorance declined, And reafon rofe upon his mind, Romantic hopes and fond defires (Sparks of the foul's immortal fires !) Kindled within his breaft the rage To breathe thro* every future age, To clafp the flitting {hade of fame, To build an everlafling name, O'erleap the narrow vulgar fpan And live beyond the life of man ! Then NATURE'S charms his heart pofiefs'd, And NATURE'S glory filPd his breaft: THE PILLOW. 117 The fweet Spring-morning's infant rays, Meridian Summer's youthful blaze, Maturer Autumn's evening mild, And hoary Winter's midnight wild, Awoke his eye, infpired his tongue ; For every fcene he loved, he fung. Rude were his fongs, and " filly footh," Till Boyhood bloflbm'd into Youth : Then nobler themes his fancy fired, To bolder flights his foul afpired ; And as the New-Moon's opening eye Broadens and brightens thro' the fky, From the dim ftreak of weftern light To the full orb that rules the night: Thus, gathering luftre in its race, And mining thro' infinite fpace, From earth to heaven his GENIUS foar'd, Time and eternity explored, 118 THE PILLOW. And hail'd, where'er its footfteps trod, In NATURE'S temple, NATURE'S GOD: Or pierced the human breaft to fcan The hidden majefty of Man ; Man's hidden weaknefs too defcried, His glory, grandeur, meannefs, pride; Purfued, along their erring courfe, The ftreams of paffion to their fource ; Or in the mind's creation fought New ftars of fancy, worlds of thought ! Yet Hill thro' all his ftrains would flow A tone of uncomplaining woe> Kind as the tear in Pity's eye, Soft as the flumbering Infant's figh, So fvveetly, exquifitely wild, It fpake the MUSE OF SORROW'S child. O PILLOW ! then, when light withdrew,- To thee the fond Enthufiaft flewj THE On thee, in penfive mood reclined, He pour'd his contemplative mind, Till o'er his eyes, with mild controul, Sleep like a foft enchantment ftole, Charm'd into life his airy fchemes, And realized his waking dreams. Soon from thofe waking dreams he woke, The fairy fpell of fancy broke ; In vain he breathed a foul of fire Thro* every chord that ftrung his lyre, No friendly echo cheer'd his tongue, Amidft the wildernefs he fung ; Louder and bolder Bards were crown'd, Whofe diflonance his mufic drown'd : The Public ear, the Public voice, Defpifed his fong, denied his choice, Denied a name, a life in death, Denied a bubble and a breath. 1$j THE PILLOW. Stript of his fondeft, deareft claim, And difmherited of fame, To thee, O PILLOW ! thee alone, He made his filent anguifli known ; His haughty fpirit fcorn'd the blow, That laid his high ambition low ; But ah ! his looks afiumed in vain A cold ineffable difdain, While deep he cherifh'd in his breaft The fcorpion that confumed his reft. Yet other fecret griefs had he, O PILLOW ! only told to thee : Say, did not hopelefs love intrude On his poor bofom's folitude ? Perhaps on thy foft lap reclined, In dreams the cruel FAIR was kind, That he might more intenfely know The bitteraefs of waking woe ? FILLO'.Vr 1'Jl Whate'er thofe pangs from me conceal'd, To tliee ia midnight groans reveal'd ; They flung remembrance to defpair ; " A wounded Spirit who can bear 1" Meanwhile difeafe, with flow decay, Moulder'd his feeble frame away ; And as his evening fun declined The fhadows deepened o'er his mind. What doubts and terrors then poflefs'd The dark dominion of his breaft ! How did delirious fancy dwell On Madnefs, Suicide, and Hell ! There was on earth no POWER to fave: But, as he fhudder'd o'er the grave, He faw from realms of light defcend The Friend of him who has no friend, RELIGION ! Her almighty breath Rebuked the winds and waves of death ; 122 THE PILLOW. She bade the ftorm of frenzy ceafe, And fmiled a calm, and whifperM peace J Amidft that calm of fweet repofe, To HEAVEN his gentle Spirit rofe. VERSES 3-0 THE MEMORY OF THE LATE JOSEPH BROJTNSf OF LOTHERSDALE, One of the People called Quakers^ WHO HAD SUFFERED A LONG CONFINEMENT IN THE CASTLE OF YORK, AND LOSS OF ALL HIS WORLDLY PROPERTY, FOR CONSCIENCE* SAKE, rj OPIRIT leave thine houfe of clay 5 Lingering Duft refign thy breath ! Spirit caft thy chains away ; Duft be thou diffolved in death!" Thus thy GUARDIAN ANGEL fpoke, As he watch'd thy dying bed j As the bonds of life he broke, And the ranfom'd Captive fled. 12i TO THE MEMORT " Prifoner, long detain'd below ; Prifoner, now with freedom bleft ; Welcome from a world of wee, Welcome to a land of reft !" Thus thy GUARDIAN ANGEL fang,. AS he bore thy foul on high ; "While with Hallelujahs rang All the region of the Iky. Ye that mourn a FATHER'S lofs> Ye that weep a FRIEND no more ! Call to mind the CHRISTIAN crofs, Which your FRIEND, your FATHER bore. Grief and penury and pain Still attended on his way, And Cppreffion's fconrge and chairr, More unmerciful than they. OF JOSEPH BROWNE. 125 Yet while travelling in diftrefs, ('Twas the eldeft curfe of fin) Thro' the world's wafle wildernefs, He had Paradife within. And along that vale of tears, Which his humble footfteps trod, Still a fhining path appears, Where the MOURNER walk'd with GOD. Till his MASTER, from above, When the promifed hour was come, Sent the chariot of his love To convey the WANDERER home. Saw ye not the wheels of fire, And the fteeds that cleft the wind ? Saw ye not his foul aipire. When his mantle drop'd behind ? J25 TO THE MEMORY OF JOSEPH BROWNE, Ye that caught it as it fell, Bind that mantle round your breaft) So in you his meekriefs dwell, So on you his fpirit reft! Yet, rejoicing in his lot, Still {hall memory love to weeps O'er the venerable fpot, Where his dear cold relicks flcep^ drive ! the guardian of his duft, Grave! the treafury of the Ikies^ Every atom of thy truft Refts in hope again to rife. Hark ! the judgment-trumpet calls, " Soul re-build thine houfe of clay: IMMORTALITY thy walls, And ETERNII Y thy day 1" THE THUNDER STORM. CJ FOR Evening's browneft ftiade ? Where the breezes play by ftealth In the foreft-cin&ured glade, Round the hermitage of HEALTH : While the noon-bright mountains blaze In the fun's tormenting rays. O'er the fick and fultry plains, Thro* the dim delirious air, Agonizing filence reigns, And the wannefs of defpair : Nature faints with fervent heat, *- Ah ! her pulfe hath ceafed to beat ! 123 TriE THUNDER STORM. Now in deep and dreadful gloom, Clouds on clouds portentous fpread, Black as if the day of doom Hung o'er NATURE'S fhrinking head Lo ! the lightning breaks from high, GOD is coming ! GOD is nigh ! Hear ye not his chariot wheels, As the mighty thunder rolls ? NATURE, ftartled NATURE reels, From the centre to the poles : Tremble ! Ocean, Earth, and Sky ! Tremble ! GOD is paffing by ! Darknefs, wild with horror, forms His myfterious hiding place; Should He, from his ark of ftorms, Rend the veil and fhew his face, THE THUNDER STORM. At the judgment of his eye. All the Univerfe would die* Brighter, broader lightnings flafh, Hail and rain tempeftuous fall ; Louder, deeper thunders crafh, Defolation threatens all ; Struggling NATURE gafps for breath, In the agony of death. GOD OF VENGEANCE ! from above While thine awful bolts are hurl'd, O remember Thou art LOVE ! Spare ! O fpare a guilty world ! Stay Thy flaming wrath awhile, See Thy bow of promife fmile t Welcome, in the eaftern cloud, Mefienger of Mercy ftill ! R. gQ THE THUNDER STORM Now, ye winds ! proclaim aloud, "Peace on Earth, to Man good will!" NATURE ! GOD'S repenting Child, See thy Parent reconciled ! Hark ! the Nightingale, afar, Sweetly fings the fun to reft> And awakes the evening ftar In the rofy-tinted weft : While the moon's enchanting eye Opens paradife on high ! Cool and tranquil is the night, NATURE'S fore afflictions ceafe, For the ftorm, that fpent its might, Was a covenant of peace : VENGEANCE drops her harmlefs rod; MERCY is the POWER OF GOD ! ODE TO THE VOLUNTEERS OF BRITAIN, On the prospect of Invasion. O FOR the death of Thofe 5 Who for their Country die, Sink on her bofom to repofe, And triumph where they He ! How beautiful in death The WARRIOR'S corfe appears, Embalm'd by fond AFFECTION'S breath, And bathed in WOMAN'S tears 1 Their lovelieft native earth Enlhrines the fallen Brave; In the dear land that gave them birtS They find their tranquil grave. 132 ODE TO THE But the wild waves fhall fwecp BRITANNIA'S foes away, And the blue monfters of the deep Be forfeited with prey ! No ! they have 'fcaped the waves, 'Scaped the fea-monfters* maws ; They come !' but O fhall GALLIC SLAVES Give ENGLISH FREEMEN laws? By ALFRED'S Spirit, No! Ring, ring the loud alarms j Ye drums awake, ye clarions blow, Ye Heralds fhout "to arms!" To arms our Heroes fly; And leading on their lines, The BRITISH BANNER in the Iky,' The ftar of conqueft, fhines. VOLUNTEERS OF BRITAIN. 133 The lowering battle forms It's terrible array ; Like clafhing clouds in mountain-ftorms, That thunder on their way ; The rufhing armies meet : And while they pour their breath, The flrong Earth fhudders at their feet, The day grows dim with death. Ghoftsof the mighty4ead! Your Children's hearts infpire ; And while they on your afhes tread, Rekindle all your fire. The Dead to life return 9 Our fathers' fpirita rife ! , My Brethren ! in YOUR, breafts they burn, They fparkle in v ou* eyes. 134- ODE TO THE Now launch upon the foe The lightning of your rage; Strike, ftrike the* aflailing Giants low, The TITANS of the age. They yield, they break, they fly ; The victory is won : Purfue ! they faint, they fall, they die; O ftay ! the work is done. SPIRIT OF VENGEANCE ! reft : Sweet MERCY cries, " forbear!" She clafps the vanquifh'd to her breaft ; Thou wilt not pierce them there ? Thus ranilh BRITAIN'S foes From her confuming eye ! But rich be the re'vard of Thofe Who conquer, Thofe who die ! VOLUNTEERS OF BRITAIN. 135 O'erfliadowing laurels dec,k The living HERO'S brows: But lovelier wreaths entwine his neck, His children and his spouse ! Exulting o'er his lot, The dangers he has braved ; He clafps the dear ones, hails the eot, Which his own valour faved. DAUGHTERS OF ALBION ! weep ; On this triumphant plain, Your fathers, hufbands, brethren flcep> For you and freedom (lain, O gently clofe the eye That loved to look on you ; O feal the lip, whofe carlieft figh, Whofe lateft breath was true : 136 ODE TO THE VOLUNTEERS. With knots of fweetdl flowers Their winding meet perfume ; And wafh their wounds with true-love fhowers, And drefs them for the tomb : For beautiful in death The WARRIOR'S corfe appears, Embalm'd by fond AFFECTION'S breath, And bathed in WOMAN'S tears. . Give me the death of Thoic Who for their country die ; And O be mine like their repofe When cold and low they lie ! Their lovelieft mother-earth Enfhrines the fallen brave, In her fweet lap who gave them birth They find their tranquil grave* THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK. 'AYE-TURNING from their evening walk, On yonder ancient ftyle, In fweet, romantic, tender talk, Two lovers paufed awhile I- EDMUND, the monarch of the dale, All-confcious of his powers; ELLA, the lily of the vale, The rofe of AUBURN'S bowers! In airy LOVE'S delightful bands He held her heart in vain ; The Nymph denied her willing hantty To HYMEN'S awful chain. 138 THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK. ' Ah ! why," faid he, " our blifs delay! " Mine ELLA ! why fo cold ? " Thofe who but love from day to day, From day to day grow old. 41 The bounding arrow cleaves the fky, " Nor leaves a trace behind ; " And fingle lives like arrows fly, " They vanifli thro* the wind. " In Wedlock's f\veet endearing lot " Let us improve the fcene, That fome may be, when we are not, To tell that we have been." 'Tis now," replied the village Belle, Saint Mark's myilerious eve ; And all that old traditions tell ** I tremblingly believe : THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK, 1$ " Ho\v, when the midnight fignal tolls, " Along the church-yard green, " A mournful train of fentenced fouls " In winding meets are feen ! 4C The ghofts of all, whom DEATH (hall doom " Within the coming, year, *' In pale proceffion walk the gloom, " Amid the filence drear ! * If EDMUND, bold in confcious might, " By love feverely tried, " Can brave the terrors of to-night, " ELLA will be his bride." She fpajce, and, like the nimble fawn, From EDMUND'S pre fence fled: Me fought, acrofs the rural lawn, The dwelling of the dead ! 140 THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK. That filent, folemn, iimple fpot, The mouldering realm of peace, Where human paflions are forgot ! Where human follies ceafe ! The gliding moon, through heaven ferene, Purfued her tranquil way, \nd fhed o'er all the fleeping fcene A foft nocturnal day. With fwelling heart and eager feet, Young EDMUND gain'dthe church, And chofe his folitary feat Within the dreadful porch. Thick, threatening clouds, afTembling fooii. Their dragon-wings difplay'd ; Eclipfed the flow-retiring moon, And queiich'd the flars in (hade. THE TIGIL OF ST. MARK. HI Amid the deep abyfs of gloom No ray of beauty fmiled, Save, gliftening o'er fome haunted tomb, The glow-worm's luflre wild. The village watch-dogs bay'd around, The long grafs whittled drear, The iteeple trembled to the ground, Even EDMUND quaked with fear. All on a fudden died the blaft, Dumb horror chuTd the air, While NATURE feem'd to paufe aghaft, In uttermoft dcfpair. Twelve times the midnight herald toll'd As oft did EDMUND ftart 5 For every ftroke fell dead and cold Upon his fainting heart. Ii2 THE TIGIL OF ST. MARK. Then glaring through the ghaftly gloom, Along the church-yard green, The deftin'd victims of the tomb In winding fheets were feen. In that pale moment EDMUND flood, Sick with fevere furprife ; While creeping horror drank his blood, And fix'd his flinty eyes. He faw the fecrets of the grave I He faw the face of DEATH ! No pity ing power appear 'd to fave He gafp'd away his breath 1 Yet ftill the fcene his foul beguiled, And every fpectre caft A look, unutterably wild, On EDMUND, as they THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK. 143 All on the ground entranced he lay ; At length the vifion broke ! When, lo ! a kifs as cold as clay, The numbering Youth awoke. That moment, ftreaminj through a cloud, The fudden moon difplay'd, Robed in a melancholy fhroud, The image of a maid. Her dufky veil afide fhe threw, And ihew'd a face mod fair ; To clafp his ELLA EDMUND flew, And dipt the empty air ! Ha! who artthou !" His cheek grew pale ; A well-known voice replied, ELLA, the lily of the vale! ELLA thy deftin'd bride !" 144- THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK. To \\in his neck, her airy arms The pallid phantom fpread ; Recoiling from her blafted charms, The* affrighted lover fled. To fhun the vifionary maid His fpeed outftript the wind ; But, though unfeen to move, the fhade Was evermore behind 1 So DEATH'S unerring arrows glide, Yet feem fuipended ftill ; Nor paufe, nor fhrink, nor turn afide, But fmite, fubdue and kill. O'er many a mountain, moor and vale, On that tremendous night, The Ghoft of ELLA, wild and pale, Purfued her Lover's flight. THE VIGIL OF ST. MARK. But when the dawn began to gleam, Ere yet the morning fhone, She vanifh'd like a nightmare-dream, And EDMUND flood alone. Three days, bewilder'd and forlorn, He fought his home in vain ; At length he hail'd the hoary thom, That crown'd his native plain. 'Twas evening : all the air was balm, The heavens ferenely clear ; When the fort mufic of a pfalm Came penfive o'er his ear. Then funk his heart ; a ftrange furmife Made all his blood run cold : He flew, a funeral met his eyes ; He paufed, a death-bell toll'd. T. 146 THE YIGIL OP ST. >Tis flie ! 'tis flie !" He burft away ; And bending o'er the fpot, Where all that once was ELLA lay, He all befide forgot! A maniac now, in dumb defpair, With love-bewilder'd mien, He wanders, weeps and watches therCf Among the hillocks green. And every Eve of pale ST. MARK> As village hinds relate, He walks with ELLA in the dark, And reads the rolls of Fate ! HANNAH. AT fond fixteen my roving heart Was pierced by Love's delightful dart: Keen tranfport throb'd thro' every vein, I never felt fo fweet a pain ! Where circling woods embowered the glade, I met the dear romantic maid : I ftole her hand, it ihrunk, but no I I would not let nay captive go. With all the fervency of youth, While paffion told the talc of truth f I mark'd my HANNAH'S downcaa eye* , 'Twas kind, but beautifully toy. 145 HANNAH. Not with a warmer, purer ray, The Sun, enamour'd, wooes young May ; Nor May, with fofter maiden grace, Turns from the fun her blulhing face. But, fwifter than the frighted dove, Fled the gay morning of my love: Ah ! that fo bright a morn, fo foon, Should vanifli in fo dark a noon ! The angel of affliction rofe, And in his grafp a thoufand woes j He pourM his vial on my head, And all the heaven of rapture fied. Yet, in the glory of my pride, I ftood, and all his wrath defied ; I ftood, though whirlwinds fhook my And lightnings cleft my foul in twain, HANNAH. H9 I fhun'd my nymph ; and knew not why I durft not meet her gentle eye ; I fliun'd her, for I could not bear To marry her to my defpair. Yet, fick at heart with hope delay 'd, Oft the dear image of that maid Glanced, like the rainbow, o'er my mind, And promifed happinefs behind. The ftorm blew o'er, and in my breaft The halcyon peace rebuilt her neft ; The ftorm blew o'er, and clear and mild The fea of youth and pleafure fmiled. 'Twas on the merry morn of May, To HANNAH'S cot I took my way ; My eager hopes were on the wing, Like fwallows fporting in the fpring. 1,30 HANNAH. Then as I climb'd the mountains o'er, I lived my wooing days once more : And fancy, fketch'd my married lot, My wife, my children and my cot 1 I faw the village fteeple rife, My foul fprang, iparkling, in my eyes ; The rural bells rang fweet and clear, My fond heart liften'd in mine ear. I reach'd th hamlet : all was gay ; I love a ruftic holiday ! I met a wedding, ftep'd afide ; It pafs'd ; my HANNAH was the bride ! There is a grief that cannot feel ; It leaves a wound that will not heal; My heart grtw cold, it felt not thej When fiialUt ceafe to feel again ? A FIELD FLOWER ; ON FINDING ONE IN FULL BLOOM ON CHRISTMAS DAY 1803. J. HERE is a flower, a little flower, With Giver creft and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every Iky. The prouder Beauties of the field, In gay but quick fucceffion (hine, Hace after race their honours yield, They flouri(h and decline. But this fmall flower, to Nature deaf, While moons and flars their courfes rnii, . Wreathes .the whole circle of the year, Companion of the fun. 152 A FIELD FLOWER. It fmiles upon the lap of May, To fultry Auguft fpreads its charms, Lights pale October on his way, And twines December's arms. The purple heath, and golden broom, On moory mountains catch the gale, ' O'er lawns the lily fheds perfume, The violet in the vale. But this bold floweret climbs the hill, Hides in the foreft, haunts the glen, Plays on the margin of the rill, Peeps round the fox's den. Within the garden's cultured round, It mares the fweet carnation's bed ; And blooms on confecrated ground la honour of the dead. A FIELD FLOWER. 153 The lambkin crops its crimfon gem, The wild-bee murmurs on its bread, The blue-fly bends its penfile ftem, Light o'er the Iky-lark's nefh 'Tis FLORA'S page: In ever)' place> In every feafon, frefti and fair, It opens with perennial grace, And bloiToms every where. On wafte and woodland, rock and plain, Its humble buds unheeded rife; The Rofe has but a fummer-reign, The DAISY never dies. THE SNOW-DROP. VV INTER ! retire, Thy reign is paft ; Hoary Sire ! Yield the fceptre of thy fway, Sound thy trumpet in the blaft, And call thy ftorms away ; Winter! retire; Wherefore do thy wheels delay ? Mount the chariot of thine ire, And quit the realms of day; On thy ftate Whirlwinds wait; And blood-mot meteors lend thcc light} SNOW-DROP. Hence to dreary arctic regions, Summon thy terrific legions ; Hence to caves of northern night Speed thy flight. From halcyon feas And purer Ikies, O fouthem breeze ! Awake, arife : Breath of heaven ! benignly blow, Melt the faow ; Breath of heaven ! unchain the floods, Warm the woods, And make the mountains flow. Aufpicious to the Mufe's prayer, The fremening gale Embalms the vale, And breathes enchantment thro' the air 156 THI 5NOVv r -DROP On its wing Floats the Spring, With glowing eye, and golden hair : Dark before her Angel-form She drives the Demon of the ftorm, Like Gladnefs chafing Care. Winter's gloomy night withdrawn, Lo ! the young romantic Hours Search the hill, the dale, the lawn, To behold the SNOW-DROP white Start to light, And mine in FLORA'S defart bowers, Beneath the vernal dawn, The Morning Star of Flowers ! O welcome to our Ifle, Thou Meflenger of Peace I THE SNOW-DROP. At whofe bewitching fmile The embattled tempefts ceafc: Emblem of Innocence and Truth 1 Firftborn of Nature's womb, When ftrong in renovated youth, She burfts from Winter's tomb \ Thy Parent's eye hath fhed A precious dew-drop on thine head Frail as a Mother's tear Upon her infant's face, When ardent hope to tender fear, And anxious love, gives place. Butlo ! the dew-drop falls away, The fun falutes thee with a ray,. Warm as a Mother's kifs Upon her Infant's cheek, When the heart bounds with blifs, And joy that cannot fp?ak ! 158 , THE SNOW-DROP. When I meet thee by the way, Like a pretty, fportive child, On the winter-wafted wild, With thy darling breeze at play, Opening to the radiant Iky All the fweetnefs of thine eye ; Or bright with funbeams, frefii with ihowers, O thou Fairy-Queen of flowers ! Watch thee o'er the plain advance At the head of FLORA'S dance ; Simple SNOW-DROP ! then in thee All thy fitter train I fee : Ever)- brilliant bud that blows, From the blue-bell to the rofe ; All the beauties that appear On the bofom of the Year ; All that wreathe the locks of Spring, Summer's ardent breath perfume, THE SKOW-DROP. 15J> Or on the lap of Autumn bloom, All to thee their tribute bring, Exhale their inceiife at thy fhrine, Their hues, their odours all are thine I For while thy humble form I view, The Mufe's keen prophetic fight Brings fair Futurity to light, And Fancy's magic makes the vifion true* There is a Winter in my foul, The Winter of defpaif ; Q when mall Spring its rage controul I When mail the SNOW-DROP bloflbm there I Cold, gleams of comfort fometimes dait A dawn of glory on my heart, But quickly pafs away : Thus Northern-lights the gloom adorn, And give the promife of a morn, That never turns to day! 150 THE SNOW-DROP. But hark ! methinks I hear A fmall flill whifper in mine ear j Rafh Youth ! repent, " Afflictions from above, " Are Angels fent " On embaflies of love. " A fiery Legion, at thy birth, " Of chaftening Woes were given, " To pluck thy flowers of Hope from eatth, "And plant them high " O'er yonder fky, ' Transform'd to ftars, and fa'd in L THE OCEAN. WRITTEN AT SCARBOROUGH, IN THE SUMMER OF 180j. ALL hail to the ruins,* the rocks and the mores ! Thou wide-rolling OCEAN, all hail ! Now brilliant with fun-beams, and dimpled witli oars, Now dark with the frefli-blowing gale, While foft o'er thy bofom the cloud-ftiadows failjj And the filver-wing'd fea-fowl on high, Like meteors befpangle the fky, Or dive in the gulph, or triumphantly ride, Like foam on the furges, the fvvans of the tide. Scar&oro' w. 162 THE OCEAN. From the tumult and fmoke of the city fet fre, With eager and awful delight, From the creft of the mountain I gaze upon tliee ; I gaze, and am changed at the fight ; For mine eye is illumined, my Genius takes flight, My foul, like the fun, with a glance Embraces the boundlefs expanfe, And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, From the day-darting zone to the night-brooding pole. My Spirit defcends where the day-fpring is born, Where the billows are rubies on fire, And the breezes that rock the light cradle of morn Are fweet as the Phoenix's pyre : O regions of beauty, of love, and defire ! O gardens of Eden ! in vain Placed far on the fathomlefo main, THE OCEANi 163 Where Nature with Innocence dwelt in her youth, When pure was her heart, and unbroken her truth. But now the fair rivers of Paradife wind Through countries and kingdoms o'erthrown ; Where the Giant of tyranny crulhes mankind, Where he reigns, and will foon reign alone, For wide and more wide o'er the fun-beaming zone, He ftretches his hundred-fold arms, JDefpoiling, deftroying its charms ; Beneath his broad footftep the Ganges is dry, And the mountains recoil from the flam of his eye. Thus the pefiilent Uppas, the hydra of trees, Its boughs o'er the wildernefs fp reads, And with livid contagion polluting the breeze Its mildewing influence fheds ; 304- THE OCEAN. The birds on the wing, and the flowers in thei* beds, Are {lain by its venomous breath, That darkens the noon-day with death, And pale ghofts of Travellers wander around, While their mouldering Ikeletons whiten the ground. Ah ! why hath JEHOVAH, in forming the world, With the waters divided the land, His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurl'd, And cradled the deep in his hand, If-iriatl may tranfgrefs his eternal command ; And leap o'er the bounds of his birth To ravage the uttermoft earth, And violate nations and realms that fhould be Diftinct as the billows, yet one as the fea ! THE OCEAN. 165 There are, gloomy OCEAN ! a brotherlefs clan, Who traverfe thy banifliing waves, The poor disinherited outcafts of man, Whom Avarice coins into flaves ; From the homes of their kindred, their forefathers' graves, Love, friendfhip, and conjugal blifs, . They are dragg'd on the hoary abyfs ; The mark hears their fhrieks, and afcending to day. Demands of the fpoiler his mare of the prey. Then joy to the tempeft that whelms them be- neath, And makes their deftrusftion its fport I, But woe to the winds that propitioufly breathe, And waft them in fafety to port ! Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon re- fort j. 16(5 THE OCEAN, Where Europe exultingly drains Her cordials from Africa's veins ; Where the image of God is accounted as bafe, And the image of Casfar fet up in its place ! The hour is approaching, a terrible hour ! And Vengeance is bending her bow ; Already the clouds of the hurricane lour, And the rock-rending whirlwinds blow ; Back rolls the huge Ocean, Hell opens below ; The floods return headlong, they fweep The flave-cultur'd lands to the deep ; In a moment entomb'd in the horrible void, By their Maker Himfelf in his anger, deftroy'd. Shall this be the fate of the cane-planted ifles, More lovely than clouds in the weft, When the fun o'er the ocean defcending in fmiles. Sinks foftly and fweetly to reft ? THE OCEAN. 167 ftO ! Father of Mercy ! befriend the oppreft; At the voice of thy gofpel of peace, May the forrows of Africa ceafe ; And the flave and his m after devoutly unite To walk in thy freedom, and dwell in thy light ! As homeward my weary-wing'd Fancy extends Her ftar-lighted courfe through the fkies, High over the mighty Atlantic afcends, And turns upon Europe her eyes ; Ah me ! what new profpects, new horrors arife I I fee the war-tempefled flood All foaming, and panting with blood ; *The panic-ftruck Ocean in agony roars, Rebounds from the battle, and flies to his fhores. * ; Alluding to the glorious fuecefs of the Moravian M'if- Jicnarifs among tie Negroes in the Wejl Inditt, 168 THS OCIAN. For BRITANNIA is wielding her trident to-day, Confuming her foes in her ire, And hurling her thunder with abfolute fway ^rom her wave-ruling chariots of fire 2 She triumphs ; the winds and the waters coo? fpire To fpread her invincible name ; The univerfe rings with her fame ; But the cries of the fatherlefs mix with herpraife, And the tears of the widow are fhed on her bays 1 O Britain ! dear Britain ! the land of my birth j O Ifle, moft enchantingly fair ! Thou Pearl of the Ocean ! Thou Gem of the Earth! O my Mother ! my Mother ! beware ; For wealth is a phantom, and empire THE OCEAN. 159 O let not thy birth-right be fold For reprobate glory and gold : Thy foreign dominions like wild graftings fhoot, They weigh down thy trunk, they will tear up thy root I- The root of thine OAK, O my Country ! that ftands Rock-planted, and flourifliing free ; Its branches are ftretch'd over far-diftant landsj And its fliadow eclipfes the fea : The blood of our Anceftors nourifh'd the tree ; From their tombs, from their ames it fprung; Its boughs with their trophies are hung ; Their fpirit dwells hi it : and hark ! for it fpoke ; The voice of our Fathers afcends from their oak. "Ye Britons ! who dwell where we conquer'd of old, Who inherit our battle-field graves 3 X J70 THE OCEAN. Thoughpoorwereyour Fathers, gigantic andbold, We were not, we would not be flaves ; But firm as our rocks, and as free as our waves, The fpears of the Romans we broke, We never ftoop'd under their yoke ; In the fhipwreck of nations we flood up alone, " The world was great CESAR'S but Britain our " For ages and ages, with barbarous foes, The Saxon, Norwegian and Gaul, We wreftled, were foiTd, were caft down, but we rofe . With new vigour, new life from each fall ; fy all we were conquer* d : WE CONQUERT THEM ALL! The cruel, the cannibal mind, We foften'd, fubdued and refined ; THE OCEAN. 171 Bears, wolves, and fea-monfters they rufli'd from their den ; We taught them, we tamed them, we turn'd them to men. "Love led the wild hordes in his flower-woven bands, The tendereft, the ftrongeft of chains ! Love married our hearts, he united our hands, And mingled the blood in our veins ; One race we became : on the mountains and plains Where the wounds of our country were clofed, The Ark of Religion repofed, The unquenchable Altar of Liberty blazed, And the Temple of Juftice in Mercy was raifed. " Ark, Altar and Temple we left with our breaf To our children, a facred bequeft ! 172 THE OCEAN. O guard them, O keep them, in life and in death ; So the fhades of your Fathers fliall reft, And your fpirits with ours be in paradife bleft : Let Ambition, the fin of the Brave, And Avarice, the foul of a Slave, No longer feduce your aflfe&ions to roam From Liberty, Juftice, Religion, AT HOME \" THE COMMON LOT. ONCE in the flight of ages paft, There lived a Man : and WHO was He ? -Mortal ! howe'er thy lot be caft> That Man refembled Thee. Unknown the region of his birth, The land in which he "died unknown ; His name hath perifh'd from the earth^ This truth furvives alone :- That joy and grief, and hope and fear, Alternate triumphed in his breaft ; His blifs and woe, a finile, a tear ! Oblivion hides the reft. 1 74 THE COMMON LOT. The bounding pulfe, the languid limb, The changing fpirits* rife and fall ; We know that thefe were felt by him, For thefe are felt by alL He fuffer'd, but his pangs are o'er ; Enjoy'd, but his delights are fled ; Had friends, his friends are now no more And foes, his foes are dead. He loved, but whom he loved the grave Hath loft in its unconfcious womb : O fhe was fair ! but nought could lave Her beauty from the tomb. The rolling feafons, day and night, Sun, moon and ftars, the earth and main.,. Erewhile his portion, life and light, To hrin exilt in vair.. THE COMMON LOT.' He fa\v whatever thou haft feen, Encountered all that troubles tliee ; He was whatever thou haft been 3 He is what thou {halt be. The clouds andTunbeams, o'er his eye, That once their {hades and glory threw, Have left in yonder filent Iky, No veftige where they flew. The annals of the human race, Their ruins, fince the world began, Of HIM afford no other trace Than this, THERE LIVED A MAN! H E END. Printed by J. Montgomery, at the Iris Office, Sheffield. IC159087