THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION.
BOOK I.
MDCCLVII.
The Argument.
THE subject proposed. Dedication. The ideas of the Supreme Being the exemplar
[...] of all things. The variety of constitution in the minds of men, with its final cause. The general character of a fine Imagination. All the immediate Pleasures of the human Imagination proceed either from greatness or beauty in external objects. The Pleasure from greatness, with its final cause. The natural connexion of beauty with truth
* and good. The different orders of beauty in different objects. The infinite and allcomprehending form of beauty, which belongs to the Divine Mind. The partial and artificial forms of beauty which belong to inferiour intellectual beings. The origin and general conduct of beauty in man. The subordination of local beauties to the beauty of the universe. Conclusion.
WITH what enchantment Nature's goodly scene
Attracts the sense of mortals; how the mind
[...]or its own eye doth objects nobler still
Prepare; how men by various lessons learn
To judge of Beauty's praise; what raptures fill
The breast with Fancy's native arts endow'd,
And what true culture guides it to renown,
My Verse unfolds. Ye gods or godlike Pow'rs!
Ye Guardians of the sacred task! attend
[Page 117] Propitious: hand in hand around your Bard
Move in majestick measures, leading on
His doubtful step thro' many a solemn path,
Conscious of secrets which to human sight
Ye only can reveal. Be great in him,
And let your favour make him wise to speak
Of all your wondrous empire, with a voice
So temper'd to his theme that those who hear
May yield perpetual homage to yourselves.
Thou chief, O daughter of eternal Love!
Whate'er thy name, or Muse or Grace, ador'd
By Grecian prophets, to the sons of Heav'n
Known while with deep amazement thou dost there
The perfect counsels read, th' ideas old
Of thine Omniscient Father, known on earth
By the still horrour and the blissful tear
With which thou seizest on the soul of man,
Thou chief, Poetick Spirit! from the banks
Of Avon, whence thy holy singers cull
Fresh flow'rs and dews to sprinkle on the turf
Where Shakespeare lies, be present; and with thee
Let Fiction come, on her aerial wings
Wasting ten thousand colours, which in sport
By the light glances of her magick eye
She blends and shifts at will thro' countless forms,
Her wild creation. Goddess of the Lyre,
Whose awful tones control the moving sphere,
Wilt thou, eternal Harmony! descend
[Page 118] And join this happy train? for with thee comes,
The guide the guardian of their mystick rites,
Wise Order; and where Order deigns to come
Her sister Liberty will not be far.
Be present all ye Genii! who conduct
Of youthful bards the lonely wand'ring step
New to your springs and shades, who touch their ear
With finer sounds, and heighten to their eye
The pomp of Nature, and before them place
The fairest loftiest countenance of things.
Nor thou, my Dyson! to the lay refuse
Thy wonted partial audience. What tho' first
In years unseason'd, haply ere the sports
Of childhood yet were o'er, the advent rous lay
With many splendid prospects, many charms,
Allur'd my heart, nor conscious whence they sprung,
Nor heedful of their end? yet serious Truth
Her empire o'er the calm sequester'd theme
Asserted soon, while Falsehood's evil brood,
Vice and deceitful Pleasure, she at once
Excluded, and my fancy's careless toil
Drew to the better cause. Maturer aid
Thy friendship added, in the paths of life,
The busy paths, my unaccustom'd feet
Preserving; nor to truth's recess divine
Thro' this wide argument's unbeaten space
Withholding surer guidance, while by turns
We trac'd the sages old, or while the queen
[Page 119] Of Sciences, (whom manners and the mind
Acknowledge) to my true companion's voice
Not unattentive, o'er the wintry lamp
Inclin'd her sceptre favouring. Now the Fates
Have other tasks impos'd. To thee, my Friend!
The ministry of freedom and the faith
Of popular decrees in early youth
Not vainly they committed. Me they sent
To wait on pain, and silent arts to urge
Inglorious, not ignoble, if my cares
To such as languish on a grievous bed
Ease and the sweet forgetfulness of ill
Conciliate; nor delightless, if the Muse
Her shades to visit and to taste her springs,
If some distinguish'd hours the bounteous Muse
Impart, and grant (what she and she alone
Can grant to mortals) that my hand those wreaths
Of fame and honest favour which the bless'd
Wear in Elysium, and which never felt
The breath of Envy or malignant tongues,
That these my hand for thee and for myself
May gather. Mean-while, O my faithful Friend!
O early chosen, ever found the same,
And trusted and belov'd! once more the verse
Long destin'd, always obvious to thine ear,
Attend indulgent: so in latest years,
When Time thy head with honours shall have cloth'd
Sacred to even Virtue, may thy mind
Fair offices of friendship, or kind peace
Or publick zeal, may then thy mind wellpleas'd
Recall these happy studies of our prime!
From Heav'n my strains begin, from Heav'n descends
The flame of genius to the chosen breast,
And beauty, with poetick wonder join'd
And inspiration. Ere the rising sun
Shone o'er the deep, or 'mid the vault of night
The moon her silver lamp suspended, ere
The vales with springs were water'd, or with groves
Of oak or pine the ancient hills were crown'd,
Then the Great Spirit, whom his works adore,
Within his own deep essence view'd the forms,
The forms eternal, of created things,
The radiant sun, the moon's nocturnal lamp,
The mountains and the streams, the ample stores
Of earth, of heav'n, of Nature. From the first
On that full scene his love divine he fix'd,
His admiration, till in time complete
What he admir'd and lov'd his vital pow'r
Unfolded into being. Hence the breath
Of life informing each organick frame,
Hence the green earth, and wild resounding waves,
Hence light and shade alternate, warmth and cold,
And bright autumnal skies and vernal show'rs,
And all the fair variety of things.
But not alike to ev'ry mortal eye
[Page 121] Is this great scene unveil'd; for while the claims
Of social life to diff'rent labours urge
The active pow'rs of man, with wisest care
Hath Nature on the multitude of minds
Impress'd a various bias, and to each
Decreed its province in the common toil.
To some she taught the fabrick of the sphere,
The changeful moon, the circuit of the stars,
The golden zones of heav'n: to some she gave
To search the story of eternal thought,
Of space and time, of Fate's unbroken chain,
And will's quick movement: others by the hand
She led o'er vales and mountains, to explore
What healing virtue dwells in ev'ry vein
Of herbs or trees. But some to nobler hopes
Were destin'd; some within a finer mould
She wrought, and temper'd with a purer flame:
To these the Sire Omnipotent unfolds
In fuller aspects and with fairer lights
This picture of the world. Thro' ev'ry part
They trace the lofty sketches of his hand;
In earth or air, the meadow's flow'ry store,
The moon's mild radiance, or the virgin's mien,
Dress'd in attractive smiles, they see portray'd
(As far as mortal eyes the portrait scan)
Those lineaments of beauty which delight
The mind supreme: they also feel their force
Enamour'd; they partake th' eternal joy.
For as old Memnon's image, long renown'd
Thro' fabling Egypt, at the genial touch
Of morning from its inmost frame sent forth
Spontaneous musick, so doth Nature's hand
To certain attributes which matter claims
Adapt the finer organs of the mind;
So the glad impulse of those kindred pow'rs
(Of form, of colour's cheerful pomp, of sound
Melodious, or of motion aptly sped)
Detains th' enliven'd sense, till soon the soul
Feels the deep concord, and assents thro' all
Her functions. Then the charm by Fate prepar'd
Diffuseth its enchantment; Fancy dreams,
Rapt into high discourse with prophets old,
And wand'ring thro' Elysium, Fancy dreams
Of sacred fountains, of o'ershadowing groves,
Whose walks with godlike harmony resound,
Fountains which Homer visits, happy groves
Where Milton dwells. The intellectual pow'r
On the mind's throne suspends his graver cares,
And smiles: the passions to divine repose
Persuaded yield, and love and joy alone
Are waking; love and joy, such as await
An angel's meditation. O! attend,
Whoe'er thou art whom these delights can touch,
Whom Nature's aspect, Nature's simple garb,
Can thus command: O! listen to my Song,
And I will guide thee to her blissful walks,
[Page 123] And teach thy solitude her voice to hear,
And point her gracious features to thy view.
Know then whate'er of the world's ancient store,
Whate'er of mimick art's reflected scenes,
With love and admiration thus inspire
Attentive Fancy, her delighted sons
In two illustrious orders comprehend
Selftaught. From him whose rustick toil the lark
Cheers warbling, to the bard whose daring thoughts
Range the full orb of being, still the form
Which Fancy worships or sublime or fair
Her votaries proclaim. I see them dawn!
I see the radiant visions where they rise,
More lovely than when Lucifer displays
His glitt'ring forehead thro' the gates of morn
To lead the train of Phoebus and the spring!
Say, why was man so eminently rais'd
Amid the vast creation? why empower'd
Thro' life and death to dart his watchful eye,
With thoughts beyond the limit of his frame,
But that th' Omnipotent might send him forth,
In sight of angels and immortal minds,
As on an ample theatre, to join
In contest with his equals, who shall best
The task achieve, the course of noble toils,
By wisdom and by mercy preordain'd?
Might send him forth the sovran good to learn,
To chase each meaner purpose from his breast,
[Page 124] And thro' the mists of passion and of sense,
And thro' the pelting storms of chance and pain,
To hold straight on, with constant heart and eye
Still fix'd upon his everlasting palm,
Th' approving smile of Heav'n? Else wherefore burns
In mortal bosoms this unquenched hope
That seeks from day to day sublimer ends,
Happy tho' restless? why departs the soul
Wide from the track and journey of her times
To grasp the good she knows not? in the field
Of things which may be, in the spacious field
Of science, potent arts, or dreadful arms,
To raise up scenes in which her own desires
Contented may repose, when things which are
Pull on her temper like a twice told tale;
Her temper, still demanding to be free,
Spurning the rude control of wilful Might,
Proud of her dangers brav'd, her griefs endur'd,
Her strength severely prov'd? To these high aims
Which reason and affection prompt in man
Not adverse nor unapt hath Nature fram'd
His bold Imagination; for amid
The various forms which this full world presents
Like rivala to his choice, what human breast
E'er doubts before the transient and minute
To prize the vast, the stable, the sublime?
Who that from heights aerial sends his eye
Around a wild horizon, and surveys
Thro' mountains, plains, thro' spacious cities old,
And regions dark with woods, will turn away
To mark the path of some penurious rill
Which murm'reth at his feet? Where does the Soul
Consent her soaring fancy to restrain,
Which bears her up as on an eagle's wings
Destin'd for highest heav'n? or which of Fate's
Tremend'ous barriers shall confine her flight
To any humbler quarry? The rich earth
Cannot detain her, nor the ambient air
With all its changes. For a while with joy
She hovers o'er the sun, and views the small
Attendant orbs beneath his sacred beam
Emerging from the deep, like cluster'd isles,
Whose rocky shores to the glad sailor's eye
Reflect the gleams of morning; for a while
With pride she sees his firm paternal sway
Bend the reluctant planets to move each
Round its perpetual year; but soon she quits
That prospect; meditating lostier views
She darts advent'rous up the long career
Of comets, thro' the constellations holds
Her course, and now looks back on all the stars,
Whose blended flames as with a milky stream
Part the blue region. Empyrean tracks,
Where happy souls beyond this concave heav'n
Abide, she then explores, whence purer light
[Page 126] For countless ages travels thro' th' abyss,
Nor hath in sight of mortals yet arriv'd:
Upon the wide creation's utmost shore
At length she stands, and the dread space beyond
Contemplates, half recoiling; nathless down
The gloomy void astonish'd yet unquell'd
She plungeth, down th' unfathomable gulf
Where God alone hath being; there her hopes
Rest at the fated goal: for from the birth
Of humankind the Sovran Maker said
That not in humble nor in brief delight,
Not in the fleeting echoes of Renown,
Pow'rs purple robes, nor Pleasure's flow'ry lap,
The soul should find contentment, but from these
Turning disdainful to an equal good,
Thro' Nature's op'ning walks enlarge her aim
Till ev'ry bound at length should disappear
And infinite perfection fill the scene.
But lo! where Beauty dress'd in gentler pomp
With comely steps advancing claims the verse
Her charms inspire. O Beauty! source of praise,
Of honour, ev'n to mute and lifeless things;
O thou that kindlest in each human heart
Love and the wish of poets, when their tongue
Would teach to other bosoms what so charms
Their own! O child of Nature and the Soul
In happiest hour brought forth, the doubtful garb
Of words, of earthly language, all too mean,
[Page 127] Too lowly, I account in which to clothe
Thy form divine! for thee the mind alone
Beholds, nor half thy brightness can reveal
Thro' those dim organs whose corporeal touch
O'ershadoweth thy pure essence. Yet my Muse!
If Fortune call thee to the task, wait thou
Thy favourable seasons; then while fear
And doubt are absent thro' wide Nature's bounds
Expatiate with glad step, and chuse at will
Whate'er bright spoils the florid earth contains,
Whate'er the waters or the liquid air,
To manifest unblemish'd Beauty's praise,
And o'er the breasts of mortals to extend
Her gracious empire. Wilt thou to the isles
Atlantick, to the rich Hesperian clime,
Fly in the train of Autumn, and look on
And learn from him, while as he roves around
Where'er his fingers touch the fruitful grove
The branches bloom with gold, where'er his foot
Imprints the soil the ripening clusters swell,
Turning aside their foliage, and come forth
In purple lights, till ev'ry hillock glows
As with the blushes of an ev'ning sky?
Or wilt thou that Thessalian landscape trace
Where slow Peneus his clear glassy tide
Draws smooth along, between the winding cliffs
Of Ossa and the pathless woods unshorn
That wave o'er huge Olympus? Down the stream
[Page 128] Look how the mountains with their double range
Embrace the vale of Tempe, from each side
Ascending steep to heav'n a rocky mound
Cover'd with ivy and the laurel boughs
That crown'd young Phoebus for the Python slain.
Fair Tempe! on whose primrose banks the morn
Awoke most fragrant, and the noon repos'd
In pomp of lights and shadows most sublime;
Whose lawns, whose glades, ere human footsteps yet
Had trac'd an entrance, were the hallow'd haunt
Of sylvan pow'rs immortal, where they sat
Oft' in the Golden Age, the Nymphs and Fauns,
Beneath some arbour branching o'er the flood,
And leaning round hung on th' instructive lips
Of hoary Pan, or o'er some open dale
Danc'd in light measures to his sev'nfold pipe,
While Zephyr's wanton hand along their path
Flung show'rs of painted blossoms, fertile dews,
And one perpetual spring. But if our task
More lofty rites demand, with all good vows
Then let us hasten to the rural haunt
Where young Melissa dwells; nor thou refuse
The voice which calls thee from thy lov'd retreat,
But hither, gentle Maid! thy sootsteps turn;
Here to thy own unquestionable theme
O fair! O graceful! bend thy polish'd brow,
Assenting, and the gladness of thy eyes
Impart to me, like morning's wished light
[Page 129] Seen thro' the vernal air. By yonder stream,
Where beech and elm along the bord'ring mead
Send forth wild melody from ev'ry bough
Together let us wander, where the hills
Cover'd with fleeces to the lowing vale
Reply, where tidings of content and peace
Each echo brings. Lo how the western fun
O'er fields and floods, o'er ev'ry living soul,
Diffuseth glad repose! There while I speak
Of Beauty's honours thou, Melissa! thou
Shalt hearken, not unconscious, while I tell
How first from heav'n she came, how after all
The works of life, the elemental scenes,
The hours, the seasons, she had oft' explor'd,
At length her fav'rite mansion and her throne
She fix'd in woman's form; what pleasing ties
To virtue bind her, what effectual aid
They lend each other's pow'r, and how divine
Their union, should some unambitious maid
To all th' enchantment of th' Idalian queen
Add sanctity and wisdom. While my tongue
Prolongs the tale, Melissa! thou may'st feign
To wonder whence my rapture is inspir'd;
But soon the smile which dawns upon thy lip
Shall tell it, and the tend'rer bloom o'er all
That soft cheek springing to the marble neck,
Which bends aside in vain, revealing more
What it would thus keep silent, and in vain
[Page 130] The sense of praise dissembling. Then my song
Great Nature's winning arts, which thus inform
With joy and love the ragged bread of man,
Should sound in numbers worthy of such a theme;
While all whose souls have ever felt the force
Of those enchanting p
[...]ons to my lyre
Should throng attentive, and receive once more
Their influence, unobscur'd by any cloud
Of vulgar care, and purer than the hand
Of Fortune can bestow: nor to confirm
Their sway should awful Contemplation scorn
To join his dictate
[...] to the genuine strain
Of Pleasure's tongue, nor yet
[...]ould Pleasure's ear
Be much averse. Ye chiefly, gentle band
Of Youths and Virgins! who thro' many a wish
And many a fond pursuit, as in some scene
Of magick bright and fleeting are allur'd
By various beauty, if the pleasing toil
Can yield a moment's respite, hither turn
Your favourable ear, and trust my words.
I do not mean on bless'd Religion's seat
Presenting Superstition's gloomy form
To dash your soothing hopes; I do not mean
To bid the jealous Thund'rer fire the heav'ns,
Or shapes infernal rend the groaning earth,
And scare you from your joys. My cheerful song
With happier omens calls you to the field,
Pleas'd with your gen'rous ardour in the chase,
[Page 131] And warm like you. Then tell me, (for ye know)
Doth Beauty ever deign to dwell where use
And aptitude are strangers? is her praise
Confes'd in aught whose most peculiar ends
Are lame and fruitless? or did Nature mean
This pleasing call the herald of a lie,
To hide the shame of discord and disease,
And win each fond admirer into s
[...]ares,
Foil'd, bassled? No: with better providence
The gen'ral Mother, conscious how infirm
Her offspring tread the paths of good and ill,
Thus to the choice of credulous desire
Doth objects the completest of their tribe
Distinguish and commend. Yon' flow'ry bank
Cloth'd in the soft magnificence of spring
Will not the flocks approve it? will they ask
The reedy fen for pasture? That clear rill
Which trickleth murm'ring from the mossy rock,
Yields it less wholesome bev'rage to the worn
And thirsty trav'ller than the standing pool
With muddy weeds o'ergrown? Yon' ragged vine,
Whose lean and sullen clusters mourn the rage
Of Eurus, will the winepress or the bowl
Report of her as of the swelling grape
Which glitters thro' the tendrils like a gem
When first it meets the sun? Or what are all
The various charms to life and sense adjoin'd?
Are they not pledges of a state entire,
[Page 132] Where native order reigns, with ev'ry part
In health and ev'ry function well perform'd?
Thus then at first was Beauty sent from heav'n,
The lovely ministress of Truth and Good
In this dark world; for Truth and Good are one,
And Beauty dwells in them and they in her
With like participation. Wherefore then,
O Sons of Earth! would ye dissolve the tie?
O! wherefore with a rash and greedy aim
Seek ye to rove thro' ev'ry flatt'ring scene
Which Beauty seems to deck, nor once inquire
Where is the suffrage of eternal Truth,
Or where the seal of undeceitful good,
To save your search from folly? Wanting these
Lo! Beauty withers in your void embrace,
And with the glitt'ring of an idiot's toy
Did fancy mock your vows. Nor yet let hope,
That kindliest inmate of the youthful breast,
Be hence appall'd, be turn'd to coward sloth,
Sitting in silence with dejected eyes,
Incurious, and with folded hands: far less
Let scorn of wild fantastick folly's dreams,
Or hatred of the bigot's savage pride,
Persuade you e'er that Beauty, or the love
Which waits on Beauty, may not brook to hear
The sacred lore of undeceitful good
And truth eternal. From the vulgar crowd
[...]
Tho' Superstition, tyranness abhorr'd!
[Page 133] The rev'rence due to this majestick pair
With threats and execration still demands;
Tho' the tame wretch who asks of her the way
To their celestial dwelling she constrains
To quench or set at nought the lamp of God
Within his frame; thro' many a cheerless wild
Tho' forth she leads him credulous and dark,
And aw'd with dubious notion; tho' at length
Haply she plunge him into cloister'd cells
And mansions unrelenting as the grave,
But void of quiet, there to watch the hours
Of midnight, there amid the screaming owl's
Dire song with spectres or with guilty shades
To talk of pangs and everlasting wo;
Yet be not ye dismay'd; a gentler star
Presides o'er your adventure. From the bow'r
Where Wisdom sat with her Athenian sons
Could but my happy hand intwine a wreath
Of Plato's olive with the Mantuan bay,
Then (for what need of cruel fear to you,
To you whom godlike love can well command?)
Then should my pow'rful voice at once dispel
Those monkish horrours; should in words divine
Relate how favour'd minds like you inspir'd,
And taught their inspiration to conduct
By ruling Heav'n's decree, thro' various walks,
And prospects various, but delightful all,
Move onward; while now myrtle groves appear
[Page 134] Now arms and radiant trophies, now the rods
Of empire with the curule throne, or now
The domes of Contemplation and the Muse.
Led by that hope sublime whose cloudless eye
Thro' the fair toils and ornaments of earth
Discerns the nobler life reserv'd for heav'n,
[...]eat'd alike they worship round the shrine
Where Truth conspic'ous with her sister-twins,
The undivided partners of her sway,
With Good and Beauty reigns. O! let not us
By Pleasure's lying blandishments detain'd,
Or crouching to the frowns of bigot Rage,
O! let not us one moment pause to join
That chosen band: and if the gracious Pow'r
Who first awaken'd my untutor'd song
Will to my invocation grant anew
The tuneful spirit, then thro' all our paths
Ne'er shall the sound of this devoted lyre
Be wanting, whether on the rosy mead
When summer smiles to warn the melting heart
Of Luxury's allurement, whether firm
Against the torrent and the stubborn hill
To urge free Virtue's steps, and to her side
Summon that strong divinity of soul
Which conquers Chance and Fate, or on the height,
The goal assign'd her, haply to proclaim
Her triumph, on her brow to place the crown
Of uncorrupted praise, thro' future worlds
And bless Heav'n's image in the heart of man.
Such is the worth of Beauty, such her pow'r,
So blameless, so rever'd. It now remains
In just gradation thro' the various ranks
Of being to contemplate how her gifts
Rise in due measure, watchful to attend
The steps of rising Nature. Last and least
In colours mingling with a random blaze
Doth Beauty dwell: then higher in the forms
Of simplest easiest measure, in the bounds
Of circle, cube, or sphere: the third ascent
To symmetry adds colour: thus the pearl
Shines in the concave of its purple bed,
And painted shells along some winding shore
Catch with indented folds the glancing sun.
Next as we rise appear the blooming tribes
Which clothe the fragrant earth, which draw from her
Their own nutrition, which are born and die,
Yet in their seed immortal: such the flow'rs
With which young Maia pays the village maids
That hail her natal morn, and such the groves
Which blithe Pomona rears on Vaga's bank
To seed the bowl of Ariconian swains
Who quaff beneath her branches. Nobler still
Is Beauty's name where to the full consent
Of members and of features, to the pride
Of colour and the vital change of growth,
[Page 136] Life's holy flame with piercing sense is giv'n,
While active motion speaks the temper'd soul:
So moves the bird of Juno, so the steed
With rival swiftness heats the dusty plain,
And faithful dogs with eager airs of joy
Salute their fellows. What sublimer pomp
Adorns the seat where Virtue dwells on earth
And Truth's eternal daylight shines around;
What palm belongs to man's imperial front,
And woman, pow'rful with becoming smiles,
Chief of terrestrial natures! need we now
Strive to inculcate? Thus hath Beauty there
Her most conspic'ous praise to Matter lent
Where most conspic'ous thro' that shadowy
[...]
Breaks forth the bright expression of a mind
By steps directing our enraptur'd search
To him the first of minds, the chief, the sole,
From whom thro' this wide complicated world
Did all her various lineaments begin;
To whom alone, consenting and entire,
At once their mutual influence all display.
He, God most high, (bear witness Earth and Heav'n!)
The living fountains in himself contains
Of beauteous and sublime. With him inthron'd
Ere days or years trod their ethereal way,
In his supreme intelligence inthron'd,
The queen of Love holds her unclouded state,
Urania. Thee, O Father! this extent
[Page 137] Of matter, thee the sluggish earth and track
Of seas, the heav'ns and heav'nly splendours, feel
Pervading, quick'ning, moving. From the depth
Of thy great essence forth didst thou conduct
Eternal Form, and there where Chaos reign'd
Gav'st her dominion to erect her seat
And sanctify the mansion. All her works
Wellpleas'd thou didst behold; the gloomy fires
Of storm or earthquake, and the purest light
Of summer; soft Campania's newborn rose,
And the slow weed which pines on Russian hills,
Comely alike to thy full vision stand;
To thy surrounding vision, which unites
All essences and pow'rs of the great world
In one sole order, fair alike they stand,
As features well consenting, and alike
Requir'd by Nature ere she could attain
Her just resemblance to the perfect shape
Of universal Beauty, which with thee
Dwelt from the first. Thou also, Ancient Mind!
Whom love and free beneficence await
In all thy doings, to inferiour minds
Thy offspring, and to man thy youngest son,
Refusing no convenient gift nor good,
Their eyes didst open in this earth, yon' heav'n,
Those starry worlds, the countenance divine
Of Beauty to behold: but not to them
Didst thou her awful magnitude reveal
[Page 138] Such as before thine own unbounded sight
She stands, (for never shall created soul
Conceive that object) nor to all their kinds
The same in shape or features didst thou frame
Her image. Measuring well their diff'rent spheres
Of sense and action, thy paternal hand
Hath for each race prepar'd a diff'rent test
Of Beauty, own'd and reverenc'd as their guide
Most apt, most faithful. Thence inform'd they scan
The objects that surround them, and select,
Since the great whole disclaims their scanty view,
Each for himself selects, peculiar parts
Of Nature, what the standard fix'd by Heav'n
Within his breast approves; acquiring thus
A partial beauty which becomes his lot,
A beauty which his eye may comprehend,
His hand may copy; leaving, O Supreme!
O thou whom none hath utter'd! leaving all
To thee that infinite consummate form
Which the great pow'rs, the gods around thy throne
And nearest to thy counsels, know with thee
For ever to have been, but who she is
Or what her likeness know not. Man surveys
A narrower scene, where by the mix'd effect
Of things corporeal on his passive mind
He judgeth what is fair. Corporeal things
The mind of man impel with various pow'rs,
And various features to his eye disclose.
[Page 139] The pow'rs which move his sense with instant joy,
The features which attract his heart to love,
He marks, combines, reposits. Other pow'rs
And features of the selfsame thing (unless
The beauteous form, the creature of his mind,
Request their close alliance) he o'erlooks
Forgotten, or with self-beguiling zeal
Whene'er his passions mingle in the work
Half alters, half disowns. The tribes of men
Thus from their diff'rent functions, and the shapes
Familiar to their eye, with art obtain,
Unconscious of their purpose, yet with art
Obtain the Beauty fitting man to love,
Whose proud desires from Nature's homely toil
Oft' turn away fastidious, asking still
His mind's high aid to purify the form
From matter's gross communion, to secure
For ever from the meddling hand of Change
Or rude Decay her features, and to add
Whatever ornaments may suit her mien
Whate'er he finds them scatter'd thro' the paths
Of Nature or of Fortune; then he seats
Th' accomplish'd image deep within his breast,
Reviews it, and accounts it good and fair.
Thus the one Beauty of the world entire,
The universal Venus, far beyond
The keenest effort of created eyes
And their most wide horizon dwells inthron'd
[Page 140] In ancient silence: at her footstool stands
An altar burning with eternal fire
Unsully'd, unconsum'd. Here ev'ry hour,
Here ev'ry moment, in their turns arrive
Her offspring, an innumerable band
Of sisters, comely all, but diff'ring far
In age, in stature, and expressive mien,
More than bright Helen from her newborn babe.
To this maternal shrine in turns they come,
Each with her sacred lamp, that from the source
Of living flame which here immortal slows
Their portions of its lustre they may draw
For days, or months, or years, for ages some,
As their great parent's discipline requires;
Then to their sev'ral mansions they depart,
In stars, in planets, thro' the unknown shores
Of yon' ethereal ocean. Who can tell
Ev'n on the surface of this rowling earth
How many make abode? The fields, the groves,
The winding rivers, and the azure main,
Are render'd solemn by their frequent feet,
Their rites sublime. There each her destin'd home
Informs with that pure radiance from the skies
Brought down, and shines thro'out her little sphere
Exulting. Straight as travellers by night
Turn toward a distant flame, so some fit eye
Among the various tenants of the scene
Discerns the heav'n-born phantom seated there,
[Page 141] And owns her charms: hence the wide universe
Thro' all the seasons of revolving worlds
Bears witness with its people, gods and men,
To Beauty's blissful pow'r, and with the voice
Of grateful admiration still resounds;
That voice to which is Beauty's frame divine
As is the cunning of the master's hand
To the sweet accent of the welltun'd lyre.
Genius of ancient Greece! whose faithful steps
Have led us to these awful solitudes
Of Nature and of Science; Nurse rever'd
Of gen'rous counsels and heroick deeds!
O let some portion of thy matchless praise
Dwell in my breast, and teach me to adorn
This unattempted theme! Nor be my thoughts
Presumpt'ous counted if amid the calm
Which Hesper sheds along the vernal heav'n
If I from vulgar Superstition's walk
Impatient steal, and from th' unseemly rites
Of splendid Adulation, to attend
With hymns thy presence in the sylvan shade,
By their malignant footsteps unprofan'd.
Come, O renowned Pow'r! thy glowing mien
Such, and so elevated all thy form,
As when the great barbarick lord, again
And yet again diminish'd, hid his face
Among the herd of satraps and of kings,
And at the lightning of thy lifted spear
[Page 142] Crouch'd like a slave. Bring all thy martial spoils,
Thy palms, thy laurels, thy triumphal songs,
Thy smiling band of arts, thy godlike sires
Of civil wisdom, thy unconquer'd youth,
After some glorious day rejoicing round
Their new-erected trophy. Guide my feet
Thro' fair Lyceum's walk, the olive shades
Of academus, and the sacred vale
Haunted by steps divine, where once beneath
That ever-living platane's ample boughs
Ilissus, by Socratick sounds detain'd,
On his neglected urn attentive lay,
While Boreas ling'ring on the neighb'ring steep
With beauteous Orithyia his lovetale
In silent awe suspended: there let me
With blameless hand from thy unenvious fields
Transplant some living blossoms to adorn
My native clime, while far beyond the meed
Of Fancy's toil aspiring I unlock
The springs of ancient wisdom, while I add
(What cannot be disjoin'd from Beauty's praise)
Thy name and native dress, thy works belov'd
And honour'd, while to my compatriot youth
I point the great example of thy sons,
And tune to Attick themes the British lyre.
END OF BOOK FIRST.
THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION.
BOOK II.
The Argument.
INTRODUCTION to this more difficult part of the subject. Of truth and its three classes, matter of fact, experimental or scientifical truth, (cont
[...] distinguished from opinion) and universal truth; which last is either metaphysical or geometrical, either purely intellectual or perfectly a
[...]acted. On the power of discerning truth depends that of acting with the view of an end, a circumstance essential to virtue. Of virtue, considered in the Divine Mind as a perpetual and universal beneficence. Of human virtue, considered as a sysem of particular sentiments and actions, suitable to the design of Providence and the condition of man, to whom it constitutes the chief good and the first beauty. Of vice and its origin. Of ridicule; its general nature and final cause
[...] Of the passions, particularly of those which relate to evil natural or moral, and which are generally accounted painful, though not always unattended with Pleasure.
THUS far of Beauty and the pleasing forms
Which man's untutor'd fancy from the scenes
Imperfect of this ever-changing world
Creates and views enamour'd. Now my song
Severer themes demand, mysterious truth,
And virtue, sovran good; the spells, the trains,
The progeny, of Errour; the dread sway
Of Passion, and whatever hidden stores
From her own lofty deeds and from herself
The mind acquires. Severer argument,
Not less attractive nor deserving less
A constant ear: for what are all the forms
Educ'd by fancy from corporeal things,
Greatness, or pomp, or symmetry of parts?
[Page 144] Not tending to the heart soon seeble grows,
As the blunt arrow 'gainst the knotty trunk,
Their impulse on the sense, while the pall'd eye
Expects in vain its tribute, asks in vain
Where are the ornaments it once admir'd?
Not so the moral species, nor the pow'rs
Of passion and of thought Th' ambitious mind
With objects boundless as her own desires
Can there converse: by these unfading forms
Touch'd and awaken'd still, with eager act
She bends each nerve, and meditates wellpleas'd
Her gifts, her godlike fortune. Such the seenes
Now op'ning round us: may the destin'd Verse
Maintain its equal tenour, tho' in tracks
Obscure and ard'ous! may the Source of Light,
Allpresent, allsufficient, guide our steps
Thro' ev'ry maze! and whom in childish years
From the loud throng, the beaten paths of wealth
And pow'r, thou didst apart send forth to speak
In tuneful words concerning highest things,
Him still do thou, O Father! at those hours
Of pensive freedom, when the human soul
Shuts out the rumour of the world, him still
Touch thou with secret lessons; call thou back
Each erring thought, and let the yielding strains
From his full bosom like a welcome rill
Spontaneous from its healthy fountain flow!
But from what name, what favourable sign,
What heav'nly auspice, rather shall I date
That nearest inmate of the human soul,
Estrang'd from whom the countenance divine
Of man dissigur'd and dishonour'd, sinks
Among inferiour things? for to the brutes
Perception and the transient boons of sense
Hath Fate imparted, but to man alone
Of sublunary beings was it giv'n
Each fleeting impulse on the sensual pow'rs
At leisure to review, with equal eye
To sean the passion of the stricken nerve,
Or the vague object striking, to conduct
From sense, the portal turbulent and loud,
Into the mind's wide palace one by one
The frequent, pressing, fluctuating, forms,
And question and compare them. Thus he learns
Their birth and fortunes, how ally'd they haunt
The avenues of sense, what laws direct
Their union, and what various discords rise
Or fix'd or casual; which when his clear thought
Retains, and when his faithful words express,
That living image of th' external scene,
As in a polish'd mirror held to view,
Is truth; where'er it varies from the shape
And hue of its exemplar, in that part
Dim errour lurks. Moreover, from without
When oft' the same society of forms
In the same order have approach'd his mind,
[Page 146] He deigns no more their steps with curious heed
To trace; no more their features or their garb
He now examines, but of them and their
Condition, as with some diviner's tongue,
Affirms what Heav'n in ev'ry distant place
Thro' ev'ry future season will decree:
This too is truth: where'er his prudent lips
Wait till experience diligent and flow
Has authoris'd their sentence, this is truth;
A second higher kind; the parent this
Of Science, or the losty pow'r herself,
Science herself, on whom the wants and cares
Of social life depend, the substitute
Of God's own wisdom in this toilsome world,
The providence of man. Yet ost' in vain
To earn her aid with fix'd and anxious eye
He looks on Nature's and on Fortune's course,
Too much in vain: his duller visual ray
The stillness and the persevering acts
Of Nature oft' elude, and Fortune oft'
With step fantastick from her wonted walk
Turns into mazes dim: his sight is foil'd,
And the crude sentence of his falt'ring tongue
Is but Opinion's verdict half believ'd,
And prone to change. Here thou who feelst thine ear
Congenial to my lyre's profounder tone
Pause and be watchful. Hitherto the stores
Which feed thy mind and exercise her pow'rs
Partake the relish of their native soil,
[Page 147] Their parent earth: but know a nobler dow'r
Her sire at birth decreed her, purer gifts
From his own treasure, forms which never deign'd
In eyes or ears to dwell within the sense
Of earthly organs, but sublime were plac'd
In his essential reason, leading there
That vast ideal host which all his works
Thro' endless ages never will reveal.
Thus then endow'd the feeble creature man,
The slave of hunger and the prey of Death,
Even now, even here, in earth's dim prison bound,
The language of intelligence divine
Attains, repeating oft' concerning one
And many, past and present, parts and whole,
Those sovran dictates which in farthest heav'n,
Where no orb rowls, Eternity's fix'd ear
Hears from coeval truth, when Chance nor Change,
Nature's loud progeny, nor Nature's self,
Dares intermeddle or approach her throne.
Ere long o'er this corporeal world he learns
T' extend her sway, while calling from the deep,
From earth and air, their multitudes untold
Of figures and of motions round his walk,
For each wide family some single birth
He sets in view, th' impartial type of all
Its brethren, suff'ring it to claim beyond
Their common heritage no private gift,
No proper fortune. Then whate'er his eye
In this discerns his bold unerring tongue
[Page 148] Pronounceth of the kindred without bound,
Without condition. Such the rise of forms
Sequester'd far from sense, and ev'ry spot
Peculiar in the realms of space or time;
Such is the throne which man for Truth amid
The paths of mutability hath built
Secure, unshaken, still, and whence he views
In matter's mould'ring structures the pure forms
Of triangle or circle, cube or cone,
Impassive all, whose attributes nor Force
Nor Fate can alter: there he first conceives
True being and an intellectual world,
The same this hour and ever: thence he deems
Of his own lot above the painted shapes
That fleeting move o'er this terrestrial scene,
Looks up, beyond the adamantine gates
Of death expatiates, as his birthright claims
Inheritance in all the works of God,
Prepares for endless time his plan of life,
And counts the universe itself his home.
Whence also but from truth, the light of minds,
Is human fortune gladden'd with the rays
Of virtue? with the moral colours thrown
On ev'ry walk of this our social scene,
Adorning for the eye of gods and men
The passions, actions, habitudes of life,
And rend'ring earth like heav'n, a sacred place
Where Love and Praise may take delight to dwell?
Let none with heedless tongue from Truth disjoin
[Page 149] The reign of Virtue. Ere the dayspring flow'd
Like sisters link'd in Concord's golden chain
They stood before the great Eternal Mind,
Their common parent, and by him were both
Sent forth among his creatures hand in hand,
Inseparably join'd; nor e'er did Truth
Find an apt ear to listen to her lore
Which knew not Virtue's voice; nor save where Truth's
Majestick words are heard and understood
Doth Virtue deign t' inhabit. Go, inquire
Of Nature, not among Tartarean rocks,
Whither the hungry vulture with its prey
Returns, not where the lion's sullen roar
At noon resounds along the lonely banks
Of ancient Tigris, but her gentler scenes,
The dovecote and the shepherd's fold at morn
Consult; or by the meadow's fragrant hedge,
In springtime when the woodlands first are green,
Attend the linnet singing to his mate
Couch'd o'er their tender young. To this fond care
Thou dost not Virtue's honourable name
Attribute; wherefore, save that not one gleam
Of truth did e'er discover to themselves
Their little hearts, or teach them by th' effects
Of that parental love the love itself
To judge, and measure its officious deeds?
But man, whose eyelids Truth has fill'd with day,
Discerns how skilfully to bounteous ends
[Page 150] His wise affections move, with free accord
Adopts their guidance, yields himself secure
To Nature's prudent impulse, and converts
Instinct to duty and to sacred law:
Hence right and fit on earth, while thus to man
Th' Almighty Legislator hath explain'd
The springs of action fix'd within his breast,
Hath giv'n him pow'r to slacken or restrain
Their effort, and hath shewn him how they join
Their partial movements with the master-wheel
Of the great world, and serve that sacred end
Which he th' Unerring Reason keeps in view.
For (if a mortal tongue may speak of him
And his dread ways) ev'n as his boundless eye
Connecting ev'ry form and ev'ry change
Beholds the perfect beauty, so his will
Thro' ev'ry hour producing good to all
The family of creatures is itself
The perfect virtue. Let the grateful swain
Remember this as oft' with joy and praise
He looks upon the falling dews which clothe
His lawns with verdure, and the tender seed
Nourish within his surrows; when between
Dead seas and burning skies, where long unmov'd
The bark had languish'd, now a rustling gale
Lifts o'er the fickle waves the dancing prow,
Let the glad pilot bursting out in thanks
Remember this, lest blind o'erweening pride
Pollute their off'rings, lest their selfish heart
"Relents thy pow'r; by us thy arm is mov'd."
Fools! who of God as of each other deem,
Who his invariable acts deduce
From sudden counsels transient as their own,
No
[...] farther of his bounty than th' event,
Which haply meets their loud and eager pray'r,
Acknowledge, nor beyond the drop minute,
Which haply they have tasted, heed the source
That flows for all, the fountain of his love,
Which from the summit where he sits inthron'd
Pours health and joy, un
[...]ailing streams, thro'out
The spacious region flourishing in view,
The goodly work of his eternal day,
His own fair universe, on which alone
His counsels
[...]ix, and whence alone his will
Assumes her strong direction. Such is now
His sovran purpose, such it was before
All multitude of years: for his right arm
Was never idle; his bestowing love
Knew no beginning; was not as a change
Of mood that woke at last and started up
After a deep and solitary sloth
Of boundless ages: no; he now is good;
He ever was. The feet of hoary Time
Thro' their eternal course have travell'd o'er
No speechless lifeless desert, but thro' scenes
Cheerful with bounty still, among a pomp
Of worlds for gladness round the Maker's throne
Of hope and filial trust imploring thence
The fortunes of their people, where so fix'd
Were all the dates of being, so dispos'd
To ev'ry living soul of ev'ry kind
The field of motion and the hour of rest,
That each the gen'ral happiness might serve,
And by the discipline of laws divine
Convinc'd of folly or chastiz'd from guilt
Each might at length be happy. What remains
Shall be like what is pass'd, but fairer still,
And still increasing in the godlike gifts
Of life and truth. The same paternal hand
From the mute shellfish gasping on the shore
To men, to angels, to celestial minds,
Will ever lead the generations on
Thro' higher scenes of being, while supply'd
From day to day by his enliv'ning breath
Inferiour orders in succession rise
To fill the void below. As flame ascends,
As vapours to the earth in show'rs return,
As the pois'd ocean tow'rd th' attracting moon
Swells, and the ever list'ning planets charm'd
By the sun's call their onward pace incline,
So all things which have life aspire to God,
Exhaustless fount of intellectual day,
Centre of souls! Nor doth the mast'ring voice
Of Nature cease within to prompt aright
Their steps, nor is the care of Heav'n withheld
That in their stations all may persevere
To climb th' ascent of being, and approach
For ever nearer to the life divine.
But this eternal fabrick was not rais'd
For man's inspection. Tho' to some be giv'n
To catch a transient visionary glimpse
Of that majestick scene which boundless pow'r
Prepares for perfect goodness, yet in vain
Would human life her faculties expand
T' imbosom such an object, nor could e'er
Virtue or praise have touch'd the hearts of men
Had not the Sovran Guide thro' ev'ry stage
Of this their various journey pointed out
New hopes, new toils, which to their humble sphere
Of sight and strength might such importance hold
As doth the wide creation to his own:
Hence all the little charities of life,
With all their duties, hence that fav'rite palm
Of human will when duty is suffic'd,
And still the lib'ral soul in ampler deeds
Would manifest herself, that sacred sign
Of her rever'd affinity to him
Whose bounties are his own, to whom none said
"Create the wisest, fullest, fairest, world,
"And make its offspring happy;" who intent
Some likeness of himself among his works
To view, hath pour'd into the human breast
A ray of knowledge and of love which guides
[Page 154] Earth's feeble race to act their Maker's part,
Self-judging, self-oblig'd, while from before
That godlike function the gigantick pow'r
[...]
Necessity, tho' wont to curb the force
Of Chaos and the savage elements,
Retires abash'd, as from a scene too high
For her brute tyranny, and with her bears
Her scorn'd followers Terrour and base Awe,
Who blinds herself, and that ill-suited pair,
Obedience link'd with Hatred. Then the soul
Arises in her strength, and looking round
Her busy sphere, whatever work she views,
Whatever counsel, bearing any trace
Of her Creator's likeness, whether apt
To aid her fellows or preserve herself
In her superiour functions unimpair'd,
Thither she turns exulting; that she claims
As her peculiar good; on that thro' all
The fickle seasons of the day she looks
With rev'rence still; to that as to a sence
Against affliction and the darts of pain
Her drooping hopes repair; and once oppos'd
To that all other pleasure, other wealth,
Vile as the dross upon the molten gold
Appears, and loathsome as the briny sea
To him who languishes with thirst and sighs
For some known fountain pure. For what can strive
With virtue? which of Nature's regions vast
Can in so many forms produce to sight
[Page 155] Such pow'rful beauty? beauty which the eye
Of Hatred cannot look upon secure,
Which Envy's self contemplates, and is turn'd
Ere long to tenderness, to infant smiles,
Or tears of humblest love. Is aught so fair
In all the dewy landscapes of the spring,
The summer's noontide groves, the purple eve
At harvest-home, or in the frosty moon
Glitt'ring on some smooth sea, is aught so fair
As virtuous friendship? as the honour'd roof
Whither from highest heav'n immortal Love
His torch ethereal and his golden bow
Propitious brings, and there a temple holds
To whose unspotted service gladly vow'd
The social band of parent, brother, child,
With smiles and sweet discourse and gentle deeds
Adore his pow'r? What gift of richest clime
E'er drew such eager eyes, or prompted such
Deep wishes, as the zeal that snatcheth back
From Slander's pois'nous tooth a foe's renown,
Or crosseth danger in his lion walk
A rival's life to rescue? as the young
Athenian warriour sitting down in bonds
That his great father's body might not want
A peaceful, humble, tomb? the Roman wife
Teaching her lord how harmless was the wound
Of death, how impotent the tyrant's rage,
Who nothing more could threaten to afflict
Their faithful love? Or is there in th' abyss,
Wheeling unshaken thro' the boundless void
Aught that with half such majesty can fill
The human bosom as when Brutus rose
Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's sate
Amid the crowd of patriots, and his arm
Aloft extending, like eternal Jove
When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud
On Tully's name, and shook the crimson sword
Of justice in his rapt astonish'd eye,
And bad the father of his country Hail!
For lo the tyrant prostrate on the dust,
And Rome again is free? Thus thro' the paths
Of human life, in various pomp array'd,
Walks the wise daughter of the Judge of Heav'n,
Fair Virtue! from her Father's throne supreme
Sent down to utter laws such as on earth
Most apt he knew, most pow'rful, to promote
The weal of all his works, the gracious end
Of his dread empire. And tho' haply man's
Obscurer sight so far beyond himself
And the brief labours of his little home
Extends not, yet by the bright presence won
Of this divine instructress, to her sway
Pleas'd he assents, nor heeds the distant goal
To which her voice conducts him. Thus hath God,
Still looking tow'rd his own high purpose, fix'd
The virtues of his creatures, thus he rules
The parent's fondness and the patriot's zeal,
[Page 157] Thus the warm sense of honour and of shame,
The vows of gratitude, the faith of love,
And all the comely intercourse of praise,
The joy of human life, the earthly heav'n.
How far unlike them must the lot of guilt
Be found! or what terrestrial wo can match
The self-convicted bosom which hath wrought
The bane of others, or enslav'd itself
With shackles vile? Not poison nor sharp fire,
Nor the worst pangs that ever monkish hate
Suggested, or despotick Rage impos'd,
Were at that season an unwish'd exchange,
When the soul loathes herself, when flying thence
To crowds on ev'ry brow she sees portray'd
Fell demons, Hate or Scorn, which drive her back
To solitude, her Judge's voice divine
To hear in secret, haply sounding thro'
The troubled dreams of midnight, and still, still
Demanding for his violated laws
Fit recompense, or charging her own tongue
To speak th' award of justice on herself;
For well she knows what faithful hints within
Were whisper'd to beware the lying forms
Which turn'd her footsteps from the safer way,
What cautions to suspect their painted dress,
And look with steady eyelid on their smiles,
Their frowns, their tears. In vain: the dazzling hues
Of Fancy and Opinion's eager voice
[Page 158] Too much prevail'd; for mortals tread the path
In which Opinion says they follow good
Or fly from evil; and Opinion gives
Report of good or evil as the scene
Was drawn by Fancy, pleasing or deform'd:
Thus her report can never there be true
Where Fancy cheats the intellectual eye
With glaring colours and distorted lines.
Is there a man to whom the name of death
Brings terrour's ghastly pageants conjur'd up
Before him, deathbed groans and dismal vows,
And the frail soul plung'd headlong from the brink
Of life and daylight down the gloomy air
An unknown depth to gulfs of tort'ring sire
Unvisited by mercy? then what hand
Can snatch this dreamer from the fatal toils
Which Fancy' and Opinion thus conspire
To twine around his heart? or who shall hush
Their clamour when they tell him that to die,
To risk those horrours, is a direr curse
Than basest life can bring? Tho' Love with pray'rs
Most tender, with Affliction's sacred tears,
Beseech his aid, tho' Gratitude and Faith
Condemn each step which loiters, yet let none
Make answer for him that if any frown
Of danger thwart his path he will not stay
Content, and be a wretch to be secure.
Here vice begins then: at the gate of life,
Ere the young multitude to diverse roads
[Page 159] Part, like fond pilgrims on a journey unknown,
Sits Fancy, deep enchantress! and to each
With kind maternal looks presents her bowl,
A potent bev'rage. Heedless they comply,
Till the whole soul from that mysterious draught
Is ting'd, and ev'ry transient thought imbibes
Of gladness or disgust, desire or fear,
One homebred colour, which not all the lights
Of science e'er shall change, not all the storms
Of adverse fortune wash away, nor yet
The robe of purest virtue quite conceal,
Thence on they pass, where meeting frequent shapes
Of good and evil, cunning phantoms apt
To fire or freeze the breast, with them they join
In dang'rous parley, list'ning oft', and oft'
Gazing with reckless passion, while its garb
The spectre heightens, and its pompous tale
Repeats with some new circumstance to suit
That early tincture of the hearer's soul.
And should the guardian Reason but for one
Short moment yield to this illusive scene
His ear and eye, th' intoxicating charm
Involves him, till no longer he discerns,
Or only guides to err. Then revel forth
A furious band that spurn him from the throne,
And all is uproar: hence Ambition climbs
With sliding feet and hands impure to grasp
Those solemn toys which glitter in his view
On Fortune's rugged steep; hence pale Revenge
[Page 160] Unsheaths her murd'rous dagger; Rapine hence,
And envious Lust, by venal Fraud upborne,
Surmount the rev'rend barrier of the laws,
Which kept them from their prey: hence all the crimes
That e'er defil'd the earth, and all the plagues
That follow them for vengeance, in the guise
Of honour, safety, pleasure, ease, or pomp,
Stole first into the fond believing mind.
Yet not by Fancy's witchcraft on the brain
Are always the tumult'ous passions driv'n
To guilty deeds, nor Reason bound in chains
That Vice alone may lord it: oft' adorn'd
With motley pageants Folly mounts his throne,
And plays her idiot anticks like a queen.
A thousand garbs she wears, a thousand ways
She whirls her giddy empire.—Lo! thus far
With hold adventure to the Mantuan lyre
I sing for contemplation link'd with love
A pensive theme: now haply should my song
Unbend that serious count'nance, and learn
Thalia's tripping gait, her shrill-ton'd voice,
Her wiles familiar, whether scorn she darts
In wanton ambush from her lip or eye,
Or whether with a sad disguise of care
O'ermantling her gay brow she acts in sport
The deeds of Folly, and from all sides round
Calls forth impetuous Laughter's gay rebuke,
Her province. But thro' ev'ry comick scene
To lead my Muse with her light pencil arm'd,
[Page 161] Thro' ev'ry swift occasion which the hand
Of Laughter points at when the mirthful sting
Distends her lab'ring sides and chokes her tongue,
Were endless as to sound each grating note
With which the rooks and chatt'ring daws, and grave
Unwieldy inmates of the village pond,
The changing seasons of the sky proclaim
Sun, cloud, or show'r. Suffice it to have said
Where'r the pow'r of Ridicule displays
Her quaint-ey'd visage some incongr'ous form,
Some stubborn dissonance of things combin'd,
Strikes on her quick perception, whether Pomp,
Or Praise, or Beauty, be dragg'd in and shown
Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds,
Where foul Deformity, is wont to dwell,
Or whether these with shrewd and wayward spite
Invade resplendent Pomp's imperious mien,
The charms of Beauty or the boast of Praise.
Ask we for what fair end th' Almighty Sire
In mortal bosoms stirs this gay contempt,
These grateful pangs of laughter, from disgust
Educing pleasure? Wherefore but to aid
The tardy steps of Reason, and at once
By this prompt impulse urge us to depress
Wild Folly's aims? for tho' the sober light
Of Truth slow dawning on the watchful mind
At length unfolds thro' many a subtle tie
How these uncouth disorders end at last
Conscious how dim the dawn of truth appears
To thousands, conscious what a scanty pause
From labour and from care the wider lot
Of humble life affords for studious thought
To scan the maze of Nature, therefore stamp'd
These glaring scenes with characters of scorn
As broad, as obvious, to the passing clown
As to the letter'd sage's curious eye.
But other evils o'er the steps of man
Thro' all his walks impend, against whose might
The slender darts of laughter nought avail;
A trivial warfare. Some like cruel guards
On Nature's ever-moving throne attend,
With mischief arm'd for him whoe'er shall thwart
The path of her inexorable wheels,
While she pursues the work that must be done
Thro' ocean, earth, and air: hence frequent forms
Of wo, the merchant with his wealthy bark
Bury'd by dashing waves, the traveller
Pierc'd by the pointed lightning in his haste,
And the poor husbandman with folded arms
Surveying his lost labours and a heap
Of blasted chaff, the product of the field,
Whence he expected bread. But worse than these
I deem, far worse, that other race of ills
Which humankind rear up among themselves,
That horrid off
[...]pring which misgovern'd Will
B
[...]s to fantastick Errour; Vices, Crimes,
[Page 163] Furies that curse the earth, and make the blows,
The heaviest blows, of Nature's innocent hand
Seem sport; which are indeed but as the care
Of a wise parent, who solicits good
To all her house, tho' haply at the price
Of tears, and froward wailing, and reproach,
From some unthinking child, whom not the less
Its mother destines to be happy still.
These sources then of pain, this double lot
Of evil in th' inheritance of man,
Requir'd for his protection no slight force,
No careless watch, and therefore was his breast
Fenc'd round with passions quick to be alarm'd,
Or stubborn to oppose; with fear more swift
Than beacons catching flame from hill to hill
Where armies land, with anger uncontroll'd
As the young lion bounding on his prey,
With sorrow that locks up the struggling heart,
And shame that overcasts the drooping eye
As with a cloud of lightning. These the part
Perform of eager monitors, and goad
The soul more sharply than with points of steel
Her enemies to shun or to resist:
And as those passions that converse with good
Are good themselves, as hope, and love, and joy,
Among the fairest and the sweetest boons
Of life we rightly count, so these which guard
Against invading evil still excite
Some pain, some tumult; these within the mind
Shock their frail
[...]eat, and by their uncurb'd rage
To savages more fell than Libya breeds
Transform themselves, till human thought becomes
A gloomy ruin, haunt of shapes unbless'd,
Of self-tormenting fiends, Horrour, Despair,
Hatred, and wicked Envy, foes to all
The works of Nature and the gifts of Heav'n.
But when thro' blameless paths to righteous ends
Those keener passions urge th' awaken'd soul,
I would not as ungracious violence
Their sway describe, nor from their free career
The fellowship of Pleasure quite exclude:
For what can render to the self-approv'd
Their temper void of comfort tho' in pain?
Who knows not with what majesty divine
The forms of Truth and Justice to the mind
Appear, ennobling oft' the sharpest wo
With triumph and rejoicing? Who that bears
A human bosom hath not often felt
How dear are all those ties which bind our race
In gentleness together, and how sweet
Their force, let Fortune's wayward hand the while
Be kind or cruel? Ask the faithful youth
Why the cold urn of her whom long he lov'd
So often fills his arms, so often draws
His lonely footsteps silent and unseen
To pay the mournful tribute of his tears?
Oh! he will tell thee that the wealth of worlds
[Page 165] Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego
Those sacred hours when, stealing from the noise
Of care and envy, sweet remembrance sooths
With virtue's kindest looks his aking breast,
And turns his tears to rapture. Ask the crowd
Which flies impatient from the village walk
To climb the neighb'ring cliffs when far below
The savage winds have hurl'd upon the coast
Some helpless bark, while holy Pity melts
The gen'ral eye, or Terrour's icy hand
Smites their distorted limbs and horrent hair,
While ev'ry mother closer to her breast
Catcheth her child, and pointing where the waves
Foam thro' the shatter'd vessel, shrieks aloud
As one poor wretch who spreads his piteous arms
For succour swallow'd by the roaring surge,
As now another dash'd against the rock
Drops lifeless down. O! deemest thou indeed
No pleasing influence here by Nature giv'n
To mutual terrour and Compassion's tears?
No tender charm mysterious which attracts
O'er all that edge of pain the social pow'rs
To this their proper action and their end?
Ask thy own heart when at the midnight hour
Slow thro' that pensive gloom thy pausing eye,
Led by the glimm'ring taper, moves around
The rev'rend volumes of the dead, the songs
Of Grecian hards, and records writ by Fame
For Grecian heroes, where the Sovran Pow'r
[Page 166] Of heav'n and earth surveys th' immortal page,
Ev'n as a father meditating all
The praises of his son, and bids the rest
Of mankind there the fairest model learn
Of their own nature, and the noblest deeds
Which yet the world hath seen: if then thy soul
Join in the lot of those diviner men,
Say, when the prospect darkens on thy view,
When sunk by many a wound heroick states
Mourn in the dust, and tremble at the frown
Of hard Ambition; when the gen'rous band
Of youths who fought for freedom and their fires
Lie side by side in death; when brutal Force
Usurps the throne of Justice, turns the pomp
Of guardian pow'r, the majesty of rule,
The sword, the laurel, and the purple robe,
To poor dishonest pageants, to adorn
A robber's walk, and glitter in the eyes
Of such as bow the knee; when beauteous works,
Rewards of virtue, sculptur'd forms, which deck'd
With more than human grace the warriour's arch
Or patriot's tomb now victims to appease
Tyrannick Envy strew the common path
With awful ruins; when the Muses' haunt,
The marble Porch where Wisdom wont to talk
With Socrates or Tully, hears no more
Save the hoarse jargon of contentious monks,
Or f
[...]ale Supe
[...]tion's midnight pray'r;
When ruthless Havock from the hand of Time
[Page 167] Tears the destroying sithe, with surer stroke
To mow the monuments of glory down,
Till Desolation o'er the grass-grown street
Expands her raven wings, and from the gate
Where senates once the weal of nations plann'd
Hisseth the gliding snake thro' hoary weeds
That clasp the mould'ring column: thus when all
The widely mournful scene is fix'd within
Thy throbbing bosom, when the patriot's tear
Starts from thine eye, and thy extended arm
In fancy, hurls the thunderbolt of Jove
To fire the impious wreath on Philip's brow,
Or dash Octavius from the trophy'd car,
Say, doth thy secret soul repine to taste
The big distress? or wouldst thou then exchange
Those heart-ennobling sorrows for the lot
Of him who sits amid the gaudy herd
Of silent flatt'rers bending to his nod,
And o'er them like a giant casts his eye,
And says within himself, "I am a king,
"And wherefore should the clam'rous voice of Wo
"Intrude upon mine ear?" The dregs corrupt
Of barb'rous ages, that Circean draught
Of servitude and folly, have not yet,
Bless'd be th' Eternal Ruler of the world!
Yet have not so dishonour'd, so deform'd,
The native judgment of the human soul,
Nor so effac'd the image of her Sire.
THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION.
BOOK III.
MDCCLXX.
WHAT tongue then may explain the various fate
Which reigns o'er earth? or who to mortal eyes
Illustrate this perplexing labyrinth
Of joy and wo thro' which the feet of man
Are doom'd to wander? That Eternal Mind,
From passions, wants, and envy, far estrang'd;
Who built the spacious universe, and deck'd
Each part so richly with whate'er pertains
To life, to health, to pleasure, why bad he
The viper Evil creeping in pollute
The goodly scene, and with insidious rage,
While the poor inmate looks around and smiles,
Dart her fell sting with poision to his soul?
Hard is the question, and from ancient days
Hath still oppress'd with care the sage's thought,
Hath drawn forth accents from the poet's lyre
Too sad, too deeply plaintive; nor did e'er
Those chiefs of humankind from whom the light
Of heav'nly truth first gleam'd on barb'rous lands
Forget this dreadful secret when they told
What wondrous things had to their favour'd eyes
And ears on cloudy mountain been reveal'd,
Or in deep cave by nymph or pow'r divine,
Portentous oft' and wild: yet one I know,
[Page 169] Could I the speech of lawgivers assume,
One old and splendid tale I would record
With which the Muse of Solon in sweet strains
Adorn'd this theme profound, and render'd all
Its darkness, all its terrours, bright as noon,
Or gentle as the golden star of eve.
Who knows not Solon? last and wisest far
Of those whom Greece triumphant in the height
Of glory styl'd her Fathers? him whose voice
Thro' Athens hush'd the storm of civil wrath,
Taught envious Want and cruel Wealth to join
In friendship, and with sweet compalsion tam'd
Minerva's eager people to his laws,
Which their own goddess in his breast inspir'd?
'Twas now the time when his heroick task
Seem'd but perform'd in vain, when sooth'd by years
Of satt'ring service the fond multitude
Hung with their sudden counsels on the breath
Of great Pisistratus, that chief renown'd
Whom Hermes and th' Idalian queen had train'd
Ev'n from his birth to ev'ry pow'rful art
Of pleasing and persuading, from whose lips
Flow'd eloquence which like the vows of love
Could steal away suspicion from the hearts
Of all who listen'd. Thus from day to day
He won the gen'ral suff'rage, and beheld
Each rival overshadow'd and depress'd
Beneath his ampler state, yet oft' complain'd
[Page 170] As one less kindly treated who had hop'd
To merit favour, but submits perforce
To find another's services preferr'd,
Nor yet relaxeth aught of faith or zeal.
Then tales were scatter'd of his envious foes,
Of snares that watch'd his fame, of daggers aim'd
Against his life. At last with trembling limbs,
His hair diffus'd and wild, his garments loose,
And stain'd with blood from self-inflicted wounds,
He burst into the publick place, as there,
There only, were his refuge, and declar'd
In broken words, with sighs of deep regret,
The mortal danger he had scarce repell'd.
Fir'd with his tragick tale th' indignant crowd
To guard his steps forthwith a menial band
Array'd beneath his eye for deeds of war
Decree: O still too lib'ral of their trust
And oft' betray'd by over-grateful love
The gen'rous people! Now behold him fenc'd
By mercenary weapons, like a king
Forth issuing from the city gate at eve
To seek his rural mansion, and with pomp
Crowding the publick road. The swain stops short,
And sighs, th' officious townsmen stand at gaze,
And shrinking give the sullen pageant room.
Yet not the less obsequious was his brow,
Nor less profuse of courteous words his tongue,
Of gracious gifts his hand, the while by stealth,
Like a small torrent fed with ev'ning show'rs,
[Page 171] His train increas'd; till at that satal time,
Just as the publick eye with doubt and shame
Startled began to question what it saw,
Swift as the sound of earthquakes rush'd a voice
Thro' Athens that Pisistratus had fill'd
The rocky citadel with hostile arms,
Had barr'd the steep ascent, and sat within
Amid his hirelings meditating death
To all whose stubborn necks his yoke resus'd.
Where then was Solon? After ten long years
Of absence full of haste from foreign shores
The sage, the lawgiver, had now arriv'd;
Arriv'd, alas! to see that Athens, that
Fair temple rais'd by him, and sacred call'd
To Liberty and Concord, now profan'd
By savage hate, or sunk into a den
Of slaves who crouch beneath the master's scourge,
And deprecate his wrath and court his chains.
Yet did not the wise patriot's grief impede
His virt'ous will, nor was his heart inclin'd
One moment with such womanlike distress
To view the transient storms of civil war
As thence to yield his country and her hopes
To all-devouring bondage. His bright helm,
Ev'n while the traitor's impious act is told,
He buckles on his hoary head, he girds
With mail his stooping breast, the shield, the spear,
He snatcheth, and with swift indignant strides
[Page 172] Wh
[...] assembled people seeks, proclaims aloud
It was no time for counsel, in their spears
Lay all their prudence now; the tyrant yet
Was not so firmly seated on his throne
But that one shock of their united force
Would dash him from the summit of his pride
Headlong and grov'lling in the dust. What else
Can reassert the lost Athenian name,
So cheaply to the laughter of the world
Betray'd, by guile beneath an infant's faith
So mock'd and scorn'd? Away then; Freedom now
And Safety dwell not but with fame in arms;
Myself will shew you where their mansion lies,
And thro' the walks of danger or of death
Conduct you to them. While he spake thro' all
Their crowded ranks his quick sagacious eye
He darted, where no cheerful voice was heard
Of social daring, no stretch'd arm was seen
Hast'ning their common task, but pale mistrust
Wrinkled each brow: theyshook their heads and down
Their slack hands hung: cold sighs and whisper'd doubts
From breath to breath stole round. The sage mean-time
Look'd speechless on, while his big bosom heav'd
Struggling with shame and sorrow, till at last
A tear broke forth; and "O immortal Shades!
"O Theseus!" he exclaim'd, "O Codrus! where,
"Where are ye now? behold for what ye toil'd
"Thro' life! behold for whom ye chose to die!"
[Page 173] No more he added, but with lonely steps
Weary and slow, his silver beard depress'd,
And his stern eyes bent heedless on the ground,
Back to his silent dwelling he repair'd;
There o'er the gate his armour, as a man
Whom from the service of the war his chief
Dismisseth after no inglorious toil,
He fix'd in gen'ral view: one wishful look
He sent unconscious tow'rd the publick place
At parting, then beneath his quiet roof
Without a word, without a sigh, retir'd.
Scarce had the morrow's sun his golden rays
From sweet Hymettus darted o'er the fanes
Of Cecrops to the Salaminian shores
When lo! on Solon's threshold met the feet
Of four Athenians, by the same sad care
Conducted all, than whom the state beheld
None nobler. First came Megacles, the son
Of great Alemeon, whom the Lydian king,
The mild unhappy Croesus, in his days
Of glory had with costly gifts adorn'd,
Fair vessels, splendid garments, tinctur'd webs,
And heaps of treasur'd gold beyond the lot
Of many sovrans, thus requiting well
That hospitable favour which erewhile
Alemeon to his messengers had shewn,
Whom he with off'rings worthy of the god
Sent from his throne in Sardis to revere
[Page 174] Apollo's Delphick shrine. With Megacles
Approach'd his son, whom Agarista bore,
The virtuous child of Clisthenes, whose hand
Of Grecian sceptres the most ancient far
In Sicyon sway'd; but greater fame he drew
From arms controll'd by justice, from the love
Of the wise Muses, and the unenvy'd wreath
Which gla
[...] Olympia gave; for thither once
His warlike steeds the hero led, and there
Contended thro' the tumult of the course
With skilful wheels. Then victor at the goal
Amid th' applauses of assembled Greece
High on his car he stood, and wav'd his arm:
Silence ensu'd, when straight the herald's voice
Was heard inviting ev'ry Grecian youth,
Whom Clisthenes content might call his son,
To visit ere twice thirty days were pass'd
The towers of Sicyon. There the chief decreed
Within the circuit of the following year
To join at Hymen's altar hand in hand
With his fair daughter him among the guests
Whom worthiest he should deem. Forthwith from all
The bounds of Greece th' ambitious wooers came;
From rich Hesperia, from th' Illyrian shore,
Where Epidamnus over Adria's surge
Looks on the setting sun, from those brave tribes
Chaonian or Molossian whom the race
Of great Achilles governs, glorying still
In Troy o'erthrown, from rough Aetolia, nurse
[Page 175] Of men who first among the Greeks threw off
The yoke of kings, to commerce and to arms
Devoted, from Thessalia's fertile meads,
Where flows Peneus near the lofty walls
Of Cranon old, from strong Eretria, queen
Of all Euboean cities, who sublime
On the steep margin of Euripus views
Across the tide the Marathonian plain,
Not yet the haunt of glory; Athens too,
Minerva's care, among her graceful sons
Found equal lovers for the princely maid;
Nor was proud Argos wanting, nor the domes
Of sacred Elis, nor th'Arcadian groves
That overshade Alpheus, echoing oft'
Some shepherd's song. But thro' th' illustrious band
Was none who might with Megacles compare
In all the honours of unblemish'd youth.
His was the beauteous bride; and now their son,
Young Clisthenes, betimes at Solon's gate
Stood anxious, leaning forward on the arm
Of his great sire, with earnest eyes that ask'd
When the slow hinge would turn, with restless feet,
And cheeks now pale, now glowing; for his heart
Throbb'd, full of bursting passions, anger, grief,
With scorn imbitter'd, by the gen'rous boy
Scarce understood, but which, like noble seeds,
Are destin'd for his country and himself
In riper years to bring forth fruits divine
Of liberty and glory. Next appear'd
[Page 176] Two brave companions, whom one mother bore
To diff'rent lords, but whom the better ties
Of firm esteem and friendship render'd more
Than brothers; first Miltiades, who drew
From godlike Aeacus his ancient line,
That Aeacus whose unimpeach'd renown
For sanctity and justice won the lyre
Of elder bards to celebrate him thron'd
In Hades o'er the dead, where his decrees
The guilty soul within the burning gates
Of Tartarus compel, or send the good
T' inhabit with eternal health and peace
The vallies of Elysium. From a stem
So sacred ne'er could worthier scion spring
Than this Miltiades, whose aid ere long
The chiefs of Thrace, already on their ways
Sent by th' inspir'd foreknowing maid who sits
Upon the Delphick tripod, shall implore
To wield their sceptre, and the rural wealth
Of fruitful Chersonesus to protect
With arms and laws: but nothing careful now
Save for his injur'd country, here he stands
In deep solicitude with Cimon join'd,
Unconscious both what widely diff'rent lots
Await them, taught by Nature as they are
To know one common good, one common ill:
For Cimon not his valour, not his birth,
Deriv'd from Codrus, not a thousand gifts
Dealt round him with a wise benignant hand,
From his own brow transferr'd to sooth the mind
Of this Pisistratus, can long preserve
From the sell envy of the tyrant's sons
And their assassin dagger. But if death
Obscure upon his gentle steps attend;
Yet Fate an ample recompense prepares
In his victorious son, that other great
Miltiades who o'er the very throne
Of glory shall with Time's assiduous hand
In adamantine characters engrave
The name of Athens, and by Freedom arm'd
'Gainst the gigantick pride of Asia's king
Shall all th' achievements of the heroes old
Surmount, of Hercules, of all who sail'd
From Thessaly with Jason, all who fought
For empire or for fame at Thebes or Troy.
Such were the patriots who within the porch
Of Solon had assembled: but the gate
Now opens, and across the ample floor
Straight they proceed into an open space
Bright with the beams of morn, a verdant spot,
Where stands a rural altar pil'd with sods
Cut from the grassy turf, and girt with wreaths
Of branching palm. Here Solon's self they found
Clad in a robe of purple pure, and deck'd
With leaves of olive on his rev'rend brow.
He bow'd before the altar, and o'er cakes
Of barley from two earthen vessels pour'd
[Page 178] Of honey and of milk a plenteous stream,
Calling mean-time the Muses to accept
His simple off'ring, by no victim ting'd
With blood, nor sully'd by destroying fire,
But such as for himself Apollo claims
In his own Delos, where his fav'rite haunt
Is thence the altar of the Pious nam'd.
Unseen the guests drew near, and silent view'd
That worship, till the hero priest his eye
Turn'd tow'rd a seat on which prepar'd there lay
A branch of laurel; then his friends confess'd
Before him stood. Backward his step he drew,
As loth that care or tumult should approach
Those early rites divine; but soon their looks
So anxious, and their hands held forth with such
Desponding gesture, bring him on perforce
To speak to their affliction. "Are ye come,"
He cry'd, "to mourn with me this common shame?
"Or ask ye some new effort which may break
"Our fetters? Know then of the publick cause
"Not for yon' traitor's cunning or his might
"Do I despair; nor could I wish from Jove
"Aught dearer than at this late hour of life
"As once by laws so now by strenuous arms
"From impious violation to assert
"The rights our fathers left us. But, alas!
"What arms? or who shall wield them? Ye beheld
"Th' Athenian people. Many bitter days
"Must pass, and many wounds from cruel Pride
[Page 179] "Be felt, ere yet their partial hearts find room
"For just resentment, or their hands endure
"To smite this tyrant brood, so near to all
"Their hopes, so oft' admir'd, so long belov'd.
"That time will come however. Be it yours
"To watch its fair approach, and urge it on
"With honest prudence: me it ill beseems
"Again to supplicate th unwilling crowd
"To rescue from a vile deceiver's hold
"That envy'd pow'r which once with eager ze
[...]l
"They offer'd to myself; nor can I plunge
"In counsels deep and various, nor prepare
"For distant wars, thus falt'ring as I tread
"On life's last verge, ere long to join the shades
"Of Minos and Lycurgus. But behold
"What care employs me now. My vows I pay
"To the sweet Muses, teachers of my youth,
"And solace of my age. If right I deem
[...]
"Of the still voice that whispers at my heart
"Th' immortal Sisters have not quite withdrawn
"Their old harmonious influence. Let your tongues
"With sacred silence favour what I speak,
"And haply shall my faithful lips be taught
"T' unfold celestial counsels, which may arm
"As with impenetrable steel your breasts
"For the long strife before you, and repel
"The darts of adverse Fate." He said, and snatch'd
The laurel bough, and sat in silence down,
Fix'd, wrapp'd in solemn musing, full before
[Page 180] The sun, who now from all his radiant orb
Drove the grey clouds, and pour'd his genial light
Upon the breast of Solon. Solon rais'd
Aloft the leasy rod, and thus began:
"Ye beauteous offspring of Olympian Jove
"And Memory divine, Pierian Maids!
"Hear me propitious. In the morn of life,
"When hope shone bright and all the prospect smil'd,
"To your sequester'd mansion oft' my steps
"Were turn'd, O Muses! and within your gate
"My off'rings paid. Ye taught me then with strains
"Of flowing harmony to soften War's
"Dire voice, or in fair colours that might charm
"The publick eye to clothe the form austere
"Of civil counsel. Now my feeble age
"Neglected, and supplanted of the hope
"On which it lean'd, yet sinks not, but to you,
"To your mild wisdom, flies, refuge belov'd
"Of solitude and silence Ye can teach
"The visions of my bed whate'er the gods
"In the rude ages of the world inspir'd,
"Or the first herdes acted; ye can make
"The morning light more gladsome to my sense
"Than ever it appear'd to active youth
"Pursuing careless pleasure; ye can give
"To this long leisure, these unheeded hours,
"A labour as sublime as when the sons
"Of Athens throng'd and speechless round me stood
[Page 181] "To hear pronounc'd for all their future deeds
"The bounds of right and wrong. Celestial Pow'rs!
"I feel that ye are near me; and behold
"To meet your energy divine I bring
"A high and sacred theme, not less than those
"Which to th' eternal custody of Fame
"Your lips intrusted, when of old ye deign'd
"With Orpheus or with Homer to frequent
"The groves of Hemus or the Chian shore.
"Ye know, harmonious Maids! (for what of all
"My various life was e'er from you estrang'd?)
"Oft' hath my solitary song to you
"Reveal'd that duteous pride which turn'd my steps
"To willing exile, earnest to withdraw
"From envy and the disappointed thirst
"Of lucre, lest the bold familiar strife
"Which in the eye of Athens they upheld
"Against her legislator should impair
"With trivial doubt the rev'rence of his laws:
"To Egypt therefore thro' th' Aegean isles
"My course I steer'd, and by the banks of Nile
"Dwelt in Canopus: thence the hallow'd domes
"Of Sais, and the rites to Isis paid,
"I sought, and in her temple's silent courts
"Thro' many changing moons attentive heard
"The venerable Sonchis, while his tongue
"At morn or midnight the deep story told
"Of her who represents whate'er has been,
[Page 182] "Or is, or shall be, whose mysterious veil
"No mortal hand hath ever yet remov'd.
"By him exhorted southward to the walls
"Of On I pass'd, the city of the Sun,
"The ever youthful god: 't was there amid
"His priests and sages, who the livelong night
"Watch the dread movements of the starry sphere,
"Or who in wondrous fables half disclose
"The secrets of the elements, it was there
"That great Psenophis taught my raptur'd ears
"The same of old Atlantis, of her chiefs,
"And her pure laws, the first which earth obey'd.
"Deep in my bosom sunk the noble tale,
"And often while I listen'd did my mind
"Foretel with what delight her own free lyre
"Should some time for an Attick audience raise
"Anew that losty scene, and from their tombs
"Call forth those ancient demigods to speak
"Of justice and the hidden providence
"That walks among mankind. But yet mean-time
"The mystick pomp of Ammon's gloomy sons
"Became less pleasing: with contempt I gaz'd
"On that tame garb and those unvarying paths
"To which the double yoke of king and priest
"Had cramp'd the sullen race. At last with hymns
"Invoking our own Pallas and the gods
"Of cheerful Greece, a glad farewell I gave
"To Egypt, and before the southern wind
"Spread my full fails. What climes I then survey'd,
[Page 183] "What fortunes I encounter'd in the realm
"Of Croesus, or upon the Cyprian shore,
"The Muse who prompts my bosom doth not now
"Consent that I reveal. But when at length
"Ten times the sun returning from the south
"Hadstrow'dwith flow'rs the verdant earth, and fill'd
"The groves with musick, pleas'd I then beheld
"The term of those long errours drawing nigh.
"Nor yet, I said, will I sit down within
"The walls of Athens till my seet have trod
"The Cretan soil, have pierc'd those rev'rend haunts
"Whence Law and civil Concord issu'd forth
"As from their ancient home, and still to Greece
"Their wisest loftiest discipline proclaim.
"Straight where Amnisus, mart of wealthy ships,
"Appears beneath sam'd Gnossus and her tow'rs,
"Like the fair handmaid of a stately queen,
"I check'd my prow, and thence with eager steps
"The city' of Minos enter'd. O ye Gods!
"Who taught the leaders of the simpler time
"By written words to curb the untow'rd will
"Of mortals, how within that gen'rous isle
"Have ye the triumphs of your pow'r display'd
"Munificent! Those splendid merchants, lords
"Of traffick and the sea, with what delight
"I saw them at their publick meal, like sons
"Of the same household, join the plainer sort,
"Whose wealth was only freedom! whence to those
[Page 184] "Vile envy and to those fantastick pride
"Alike was strange, but noble concord still
"Cherish'd the strength untam'd, the rustick faith,
"Of their first fathers. Then the growing race
"How pleasing to behold them in their schools,
"Their sports, their labours, ever plac'd within
"O shade of Minos! thy controlling eye?
"Here was a docile band in tuneful tones
"Thy laws pronouncing, or with lofty hymns
"Praising the bounteous gods, or to preserve
"Their country's heroes from oblivious night
"Resounding what the Muse inspir'd of old:
"There on the verge of manhood others met
"In heavy armour thro' the heats of noon
"To march, the rugged mountain's height to climb
"With measur'd swiftness, from the hardbent bow
"To send resistless arrows to their mark,
"Or for the fame of prowess to contend,
"Now wrestling, now with fists and staves oppos'd,
"Now with the biting falchion, and the fence
"Of brazen shields, while still the warbling flute
"Presided o'er the combat, breathing strains
"Grave, solemn, soft, and changing headlong spite
"To thoughtful resolution cool and clear.
"Such I beheld those islanders renown'd,
"So tutor'd from their birth to meet in war
"Each bold invader, and in peace to guard
"That living flame of rev'rence for their laws
"Which nor the storms of Fortune nor the flood
[Page 185] "Of foreign wealth diffus'd o'er all the land
"Could quench or slacken. First of human names
"In ev'ry Cretan's heart was Minos still,
"And holiest far of what the sun surveys
"Thro' his whole course were those primeval seats
"Which with religious footsteps he had taught
"Their sires t' approach, the wild Dictean cave
"Where Jove was born, the ever verdant meads
"Of Ida, and the spacious grotto where
"His active youth he pass'd, and where his throne
"Yet stands mysterious, whither Minos came
"Each ninth returning year the king of gods
"And mortals there in secret to consult
"On justice, and the tables of his law
"T' inscribe anew: oft' also with like zeal
"Great Rhea's mansion from the Gnossian gates
"Men visit, nor less oft' the antick fane
"Built on that sacred spot along the banks
"Of shady Theron where benignant Jove
"And his majestick consort join'd their hands
"And spoke their nuptial vows. Alas! it was there
"That the dire same of Athens sunk in bonds
"I first receiv'd, what time an annual feast
"Had summon'd all the genial country round
"By sacrifice and pomp to bring to mind
"That first great spousal, while th' enamour'd youths
"And virgins with the priest before the shrine
"Observe the same pure ritual, and invoke
"The same glad omens. There among the crowd
"Of strangers from those naval cities drawn
[Page 186] "Which deck like gems the island's northern shore
"A merchant of Aegina I descry'd,
"My ancient host; but forward as I sprung
"To meet him he with dark dejected brow
"Stopp'd half averse; and "O Athenian guest!"
"He said, "art thou in Crete these joyful rites
"Partaking? Know thy laws are blotted out;
"Thy Country kneels before a tyrant's throne."
"He added names of men, with hostile deeds
"Disastrous, which obscure and indistinct
"I heard, for while he spake my heart grew cold
"And my eyes dim; the altars and their train
"No more were present to me: how I far'd
"Or whither turn'd I know not, nor recall
"Aught of those moments other than the sense
"Of one who struggles in oppressive sleep,
"And from the toils of some distressful dream
"To break away, with palpitating heart,
"Weak limbs, and temples bath'd in deathlike dew,
"Makes many a painful effort. When at last
"The sun and Nature's face again appear'd
"Not far I found me, where the publick path
"Winding thro' cypress groves and swelling meads
"From Gnossus to the cave of Jove ascends:
"Heedless I follow'd on till soon the skirts
"Of Ida rose before me, and the vault
"Wide-op'ning pierc'd the mountain's rocky side.
"Ent'ring within the threshold on the ground
"I slung me, sad, faint, overworn with toil.
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