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PHILOSOPHIC SOLITUDE: A POEM

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Philosophic Solitude: OR THE CHOICE OF A RURAL LIFE. A POEM.

By a GENTLEMAN educated at YALE College.

Me placeant ante omnia sylvae.

VIRG

Otium sine literis mors est, & vivi hominis sepultura.

SEN.

NEW-YORK: Printed by James Parker, 1747.

[Page iii]

TO THE INGENIOUS AUTHOR OF THE POEM ENTITLED. Philosophic Solitude, &c.

WHILE in your verse with transport and surprize
We see the rural scene sublimely rise;
While country pleasures innocently gay
Smile in your song, and steal our souls away;
With joy the varied landskip we pursue,
And all Arcadia opens to our view.
List'ning we hear the soft melodious strains,
O'er lofty mountains, and subjacent plains;
While bending forests echoing back the sound,
And groves responfive send the music round:
Intranc'd we hang suspended on your tongue,
And every pulse beats concert to your song.
[Page iv]
Wrapt into ages past, and future times,
To distant regions, and to happier climes;
When native innocence adorn'd mankind,
E'er fraud and lux'ry had debauch'd the mind,—
Ev'n in the golden age, (as poets feign)
When peace attended Saturn's gentler reign,
In patriarchal bow'rs, our fancy roves
Thro' sylvan scenes, gay lawns, and shady groves;
Fir'd by your lays, we long to taste the sweets
That breathe in vernal groves, and green retreats.
While warm'd with gen'rous scorn and manly rage,
You form the taste of a degenerate age,
Nobly disdaining the renown'd resorts
Of pompous palaces, and glittering courts;
(The pride of fools!—) we feel th' inchanting strains,
And covet kingdoms, less than groves or plains.
When to sequester'd scenes our view you guide,
And paint out nature in her virgin-pride,
We see the mossy banks, and op'ning flowers,
Th' elysian fields, and amaranthin bowers;
And list'ning hear the sleep-inspiring rills
Flow in your verse, and murmur down the hills.
Still as we trace you thro' th' harmonious theme,
New beauties flourish, and fresh glories beam;
[Page v] Pleasures on pleasures, scenes on scenes arise,
And varied prospects glad our wandring eyes.
When wak'd by Phoebus, and the vocal choir,
To nature's God you tune the warbling lyre;
The sacred transport every power controuls,
And warm devotion swells our raptur'd souls:
Nor less we wonder while you range the mead,
Converse with angels, and the mighty dead:
Or from the learned throng selected choose
Or authors to instruct or to amuse;
With wisest art and judgment drawn, we trace
Each different genius,—each peculiar grace.
There Virgil, Milton, Pope and Dryden shine,
And gentlest Watts, harmonious and divine;
Newton and Lock, and more of deathless name,
There live distinguish'd in the rolls of fame:
The Trojan hero, who with glory shines,
Drawn in the Mantuan and the Laureat's lines,
Warm'd by your quick'ning touch to life returns,
Glitters in arms, and for the combat burns.
When in your verse o'er heav'ns crystalline road,
Thunders the chariot of the Filial-God,
We hear the rattling wheels and axils bound,
And all heav'n's pavement trembling with the sound:
[Page vi] Then gentler strains the flowing notes prolong,
And Windsor-plains reflourish in your song.
But when you celebrate the nuptial ties,
Connubial sweets, and matrimonial joys,
And paint the beauties of a vertuous wife,
To soothe the cares, and share the joys of life;
The radiant charms our am'rous passions move,
Subdue our breasts, and bend our souls to love.
We pant to prove what Hymen's rites contain,
To taste the bliss, and rush into the chain.
But why shou'd we on single features dwell,
Since all the parts of the fair piece excell?
Thro' out the whole with wonder and surprize,
We view dispers'd unnumber'd beauties rise!
Smooth, yet sublime, and regularly strong,
The shining incidents the theme prolong;
Ravish'd we gaze, in admiration lost,
And know not where to praise or wonder most.
YALENSIS smiles the finish'd piece to view,
And fondly glories in a son like YOU.
N. W.
[Page vii]

TO Mr. L*********, ON HIS Philosophic Solitude, &c.

SLOW tho' I am to wake the silent string,
Yet shou'd the muse inspire my voice to sing,
That fav'rite song to L***** I give,
That fav'rite song, thy just desert, receive.
Hail Youth, belov'd and honour'd by the Nine!
In thy harmonious verse united shine
Pope's nervous phrase, and Homer's sacred fire,
And all the muses all the verse inspire!
When e'er you sing in tuneful rural strains
The shady forests, and the flow'ry plains,
A second Windsor starts in every line,
The plains and forests in full glory shine:
Fir'd with the song, thro' all the painted mead,
Well-pleas'd I wander where by numbers lead:
What varying scenes in every page appear!
What varying scenes my busy fancy chear!
[Page viii] Rapt by your Notes, from maze to maze I rove,
And hear soft music eccho thro' the grove;
Now thoughtful wander thro' the waving wood;
Now hear the murmur of the falling flood;
Here branching trees crowd to a living shade,
There breathing Zephyrs fan the op'ning glade:
Where e'er I tread the purple flow'rs appear,
The rich profusion of the smiling year!
But when your lofty numbers reach the skies,
Th' excursive soul thro' every region flies;
Reads nature's volume with supreme delight,
And joyous roams the boundless fields of light.
To raise the genius, and exalt the thought,
What the learn'd sons of Rome and Albion wrote,
You travel o'er, — and taught by heav'n you sing
Each author's merit on the sounding string.
Or if the fair one's charms you wou'd rehearse,
How smooth the numbers, and how soft the verse!
My fancy forms her of Angelic-race,
And more than human sparkles in her face:
In her a thousand beauties we survey.
A thousand charms her lovely form display;
While virtue's beams serene around her shine,
Dart from her soul and speak her all divine.
[Page ix]
With flowing wine, and noisy converse gay,
In guilty mirth let others waste the day;
Snatch me, some God, to L******s retreats,
The bow'ry mazes, venerable seats!
Far from th' eternal hurries of the great,
The din of cities and the farce of state:
There let me pass the golden hours away,
While books and walks prolong the silent day.
Stranger to civil and religious strife,
There sail serene along the stream of life,
Dye unlamented, as I liv'd unknown:
Nor ask, to note my grave, the monumental stone.
But ah! for me no gilded landskips rise,
While the thick town obscures my clouded eyes;
No blooming hills here rise in distant views,
No stream or op'ning glades invite the muse;
In one short space, subjected to my eye,
Chairs, carts, drays, coaches, dirty-pavements lie;
Here when I strive to tune the sounding lyre
The same dull prospect damps the rising fire:
Thrice happy bard! who in some lone abode
Spreads bolder wings, and feels the rushing God;
Thrice happy you!—ah hapless! not to dwell
Amid the sylvan scenes you paint so well.
[Page x]
Oh wou'd the Power supreme my wish compleat!
And fix us in some solitary seat,
(May fair Queen's Village * be the soft retreat!)
There on the verge of a meandring flood,
Brown with an arching shade, and pendant wood,
Smit with the love of heav'nly song, we'd chuse
To catch the inspirations of the muse:
There too in converse innocently gay,
Shou'd the fleet minutes smoothly glide away.
And when kind death shou'd seal these willing eyes,
And bid our Soul as [...] their kindred Skies,
From star to star famil [...] wou'd we roam,
Explore sublimer regions, and confess our home.
W. P. S.
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PHILOSOPHIC SOLITUDE: OR, THE CHOICE OF A RURAL LIFE.

[Page]

The ARGUMENT.

THE Subject proposed. Situation of the Au­thor's House. His Frugality in its Furiture. The Beauties of the Country. His Love of Retire­ment, and Choice of his Friends. A Description of the Morning. Hymn to the Sun. Contemplation of the Heavens. The Existence of God inferr'd from a View of the Beauty and Harmony of the Creation. Morning and Everning Devotion. The Vanity of Riches and Grandeur. The Choice of his Books. Praise of the Marriage State. A Knot of Modern Ladies described. The Author's Exit.

[Page 13]

PHILOSOPHIC SOLITUDE, &c.

LET ardent heroes seek renown in arms,
Pant after fame, and rush to war's alarms;
To shining palaces, let fools resort,
And dunces cringe to be esteem'd at court:
Mine be the pleasures of a rural life,
From noise remote, and ignorant of strife;
Far from the painted Belle, and white-glov'd Beau,
The lawless masquerade, and midnight show,
From ladies, lap dogs, courtiers, garters, stars,
Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars.
FULL in the center of some shady grove,
By nature form'd for solitude and love;
On banks array'd with ever-blooming flow'rs,
Near beauteous landskips, or by rosiate bow'rs;
My neat, but simple mansion I would raise,
Unlike the sumptuous domes of modern days;
[Page 14] Devoid of pomp, with rural plainess form'd,
With savage game, and glossy shells adorn'd.
No costly furniture shou'd grace my hall;
But curling vines ascend against the wall,
Whose pliant branches shou'd luxuriant twine,
While purple clusters swell'd with future wine:
To slake my thirst a liquid lapse distil
From craggy rocks, and spread a limpid rill.
Along my mansion spiry firrs should grow,
And gloomy yews extend the shady row;
The cedars flourish, and the poplars rise
Sublimely tall, and shoot into the skies:
Among the leaves refreshing Zephyrs play,
And crowding trees exclude the noon-tide ray;
Whereon the birds their downy nests shou'd form,
Securely shelter'd from the batt'ring storm;
And to melodious notes their choir apply,
Soon as Aurora blush'd along the sky:
While all around th' enchanting music rings,
And ev'ry vocal grove responsive sings.
[Page 15]
ME to sequester'd scenes, ye muses guide,
Where nature wantons in her virgin-pride;
To mossy banks edg'd round with op'ning flow'rs,
Elysian fields, and amaranthin bow'rs,
T' ambrosial founts, and sleep-inspiring rills,
To herbag'd vales, gay lawns, and sunny hills.
WELCOME ye shades! all hail, ye vernal blooms!
Ye bow'ry thickets, and prophetic glooms!
Ye forests hail! ye solitary woods!
Love-whisp'ring groves, and silver-streaming floods!
Ye meads, that aromatic sweets exhale!
Ye birds, and all ye sylvan beauties hail!
Oh how I long with you to spend my days,
Invoke the muse, and try the rural lays!
No trumpets there with martial clangor sound,
No prostrate heroes strew the crimson'd ground;
No groves of lances glitter in the air,
Nor thund'ring drums provoke the sanguine war:
But white-rob'd peace, and universal love
Smile in the field, and brighten every grove.
[Page 16] There all the beauties of the circling year,
In native ornamental pride appear.
Gay rosy-bosom'd SPRING, and April show'rs
Wake from the womb of earth the rising flow'rs:
In deeper verdure SUMMER cloaths the plain,
And AUTUMN bends beneath the golden grain;
The trees weep amber, and the whispering gales
Breeze o'er the lawn, or murmur thro' the vales.
The flow'ry tribes in gay confusion bloom,
Profuse of sweets, and fragrant with perfume.
On blossoms blossoms, fruits on fruits arise,
And varied prospects glad the wandring eyes.
In these fair Seats I'd pass the joyons day
Where meadows flourish and where fields look gay;
From bliss to bliss with endless pleasure rove,
Seek crystal streams, or haunt the vernal grove,
Woods, fountains, lakes, the fertile fields, or shades,
Aërial mountains, or subjacent glades.
THERE from the polish'd fetters of the great,
Triumphal piles, and gilded rooms of state;
Prime ministers, and sycophantic knaves,
Illustrious villains, and illustrious slaves!
[Page 17] From all the vain formality of fools,
And odious task of arbitrary rules,
The ruffling cares which the vex'd soul annoy,
The wealth the rich possess, but not enjoy,
The visionary bliss the world can lend,
Th' insidious foe, and false designing friend,
The seven-fold fury of Xantippe's Soul,
And S*****'s rage that burns without controul;
I'd live retir'd, contented, and serene,
Forgot, unknown, unenvied, and unseen.
YET not a real hermitage I'd chuse,
Nor wish to live from all the world recluse;
But with a friend sometimes unbend the soul
In social converse, o'er the sprightly bowl.
With chearful W****, serene and wisely gay,
I'd often pass the dancing hours away:
He skill'd alike to profit and to please,
Politely talks with unaffected ease;
Sage in debate, and faithful to his trust,
Mature in science, and severely just;
Of soul diffusive, vast and unconfin'd,
Breathing benevolence to all mankind;
[Page 18] Cautious to censure, ready to commend,
A firm unshaken, uncorrupted friend:
In early youth fair wisdom's paths be trod,
In early youth a minister of God:
Each pupil lov'd him when at Yale he shone,
And ev'ry bleeding bosom weeps him gone.
Dear A**** too, should grace my rural Seat,
Forever welcome to the green retreat.
Heav'n for the cause of righteousness design'd
His florid genius, and capacious mind:
Oft' have I heard, amidst th' adoring throng,
Celestial truths devolving from his tongue;
High o'er the list'ning audience seen him stand:
Divinely speak, and graceful stretch his hand:
With such becoming grace and pompous sound,
With long-rob'd senators encircled round,
Before the roman bar, while Rome was free,
Nor bow'd to Coesar's throne the servile knee,
Immortal Tully plead the patriot cause,
While ev'ry tongue resounded his applause.
Next round my board should candid S*** appear,
Of manners gentle, and a friend sincere,
[Page] Averse to discord, party-rage, and strife
He sails serenely down the stream of life.
With these three friends, beneath a spreading shade,
Where silver fountains murmur thro' the glade;
Or in cool grotts, persum'd with native flow'rs,
In harmless mirth I'd spend the circling hours;
Or gravely talk, or innocently sing,
Or in harmonous concert strike the trembling string.
AMID sequester'd bow'rs, near gliding streams,
Druids and Bards enjoy'd serenest dreams.
Such was the seat where courtly Horace sung,
And his bold harp immortal Maro strung:
Where tuneful Orpheus' unresisted lay,
Made rabid tygers bear their rage away;
While groves attentive to th' extatic found
Burst from their roots, and raptur'd danc'd around.
Such seats the venerable Seers of old
(When blissful years in golden circles roll'd)
Chose and admir'd: Ev'n Goddesses and Gods
(As poets feign) were fond of such abodes.
Th' imperial consort of fictitious Jove
For fount-full Ide, forsook the realms above.
[Page] Oft' to Idalia on a golden cloud,
Veil'd in a mist of fragrance Venus rode:
There numerous altars to the queen were rear'd,
And love-sick youths their am'rous vows prefer'd,
While fair-hair'd damsels (a lascivious train!)
With wanton rites ador'd her gentle reign,
The silver-shafted Huntress of the Woods,
Sought pendant shades, and bath'd in cooling floods.
In palmy Delos, by Scamander's side,
Or where Caijster roll'd his silver tyde,
Melodious Phoebus sang; the Muses round
Alternate warbling to the heav'nly sound.
Ev'n the feign'd MONARCH of heav'ns bright abode,
High-thron'd in gold, of Gods the sovereign God,
Oft' times preser'd the shade of Ida's grove
To all th' ambrosial feasts, and nectar'd cups above.
BEHOLD, the rosey-singer'd morning dawn,
In saffron rob'd, and blushing o'er the lawn!
Reflected from the clouds, a radiant stream
Tips with etherial dew the mountain's brim.
Th' unfolding roses, and the op'ning flow'rs
Imbibe the dew, and strew the varied bow'rs,
[Page 21] Diffuse nectareous sweets around, and glow
With all the colours of the show'ry bow.
Th' industrious bees their balmy toil renew,
Buzz o'er the field, and sip the rosy dew.—
But yonder comes th' illustrious God of day,
Invests the east, and gilds th' etherial way:
The groves rejoice, the feather'd nations sing,
Echo the mountains, and the vallies ring.
HAIL Orb! array'd with majesty and fire,
That bids each sable shade of night retire!
Fountain of light! with burning glory crown'd,
Darting a deluge of effulgence round!
Wak'd by thy genial and prolific ray,
Nature resumes her verdure, and looks gay;
Fresh blooms the rose; the drooping plants revive,
The groves reflourish, and the forests live.
Deep in the teeming earth, the rip'ning ore
Confesses thy consolidating pow'r:
Hence labour draws her tools, and artists mould
The fusile silver, and the ductile gold:
Hence war is furnish'd, and the regal shield
Like lightning flashes o'er th' illumin'd field.
[Page 22] If thou so fair with delegated light,
That all heav'ns splendors vanish at thy sight;
With what effulgence must the ocean glow
From which thy borrow'd beams incessant flow!
Th' exhaustless source, whose single smile supplies
Th' unnumber'd orbs that gild the spangled skies!
OFT' would I view, in admiration lost,
Heav'ns sumptuous canopy, and starry host,
With levell'd tube, and astronomic eye
Pursue the planets whirling thro' the sky:
Immensurable vault! where thunders roll,
And forky lightnings flash from pole to pole.
Say, railing Infidel! canst thou survey
Yon globe of fire, that gives the golden day,
Th' harmonious structure of this vast machine,
And not confess its Architect divine?
Then go, vain wretch! tho' deathless be thy soul,
Go, swell the riot, and exhaust the bowl,
Plunge into vice, humanity resign,
Go, fill the stie, and bristle into swine!
[Page 23]
NONE but a Pow'r omnipotent and wise
Could frame this earth, or spread the boundless skies:
He made the whole; at his omnific call
From formless chaos rose this spacious ball,
And one ALMIGHTY GOD is seen in all.
By him our cup is crown'd, our table spread
With luscious wine, and life-sustaining bread.
What countless wonders doth the earth contain!
What countless wonders the unfathom'd main!
Bedrop'd with gold, there scaly nations shine,
Haunt coral groves, or lash the foaming brine.
JEHOVAH'S glories blaze all nature round,
In heav'n, on earth, and in the deeps profound;
Ambitious of his name, the warblers sing,
And praise their maker, while they hail the spring:
The zephyrs breathe it, and the thunders roar,
While surge to surge, and shore resounds to shore.
But MAN, endu'd with an immortal mind,
His maker's image, and for heav'n design'd!
To loftier notes his raptur'd voice should raise,
And chaunt sublimer hymns to his creator's praise.
[Page 24]
WHEN rising Phoebus ushers in the morn,
And golden beams th' impurpled skies adorn;
Wak'd by the gentle murmur of the floods;
Or the soft music of the waving woods,
Rising from sleep with the melodious quire,
To solemn sounds I'd tune the hallow'd lyre.
Thy name, O God! should tremble on my tongue,
Till ev'ry grove prov'd vocal to my song:
(Delightful task! with dawning light to sing
Triumphant hymns to heav'ns eternal king.)
Some courteous angel should my breast inspire,
Attune my lips, and guide the warbled wire,
While sportive echoes catch the sacred sound,
Swell ev'ry note, and bear the music round;
While mazy streams meandring to the main
Hang in suspence to hear the heav'nly strain,
And hush'd to silence all the feather'd throng
Attentive listen to the tuneful song.
FATHER of Light! exhaustless source of good!
Supreme, eternal, self-existent GOD!
Before the beamy Sun dispens'd a ray,
Flam'd in the azure vault, and gave the day;
[Page 25] Before the glimmering Moon with borrow'd light
Shone queen amid the silver host of night,
High in the heav'ns, thou reign'd superior Lord,
By suppliant angels worship'd and ador'd.
With the celestial choir then let me join
In chearful praises to the POW'R DIVINE.
To sing thy praise, do thou O God! inspire
A mortal breast with more than mortal fire.
In dreadful majesty thou sit'st enthron'd,
With light encircled, and with glory crown'd:
Thro' all infinitude extends thy reign,
For thee, nor heav'n, nor heav'n of heav'ns contain;
But tho' thy throne is fix'd above the sky,
Thy omnipresence fills immensity.
Saints rob'd in white, to thee their anthems bring,
And radiant Martyrs hallelujahs sing:
Heav'ns universal host their voices raise
In one eternal chorus to thy praise;
And round thy awful throne with one accord
Sing, HOLY, HOLY, HOLY IS THE LORD.
At thy creative voice, from antient night
Sprang smiling beauty, and yon worlds of light:
[Page 26] Thou spak'st—the planetary Chorus roll'd,
And all th' expanse was starr'd with beamy gold;
LET THERE BE LIGHT, said God,—Light instant shone
And from the orient burst the golden Sun;
Heav'ns gazing hierarchies with glad surprize
Saw the first morn invest the recent skies,
And strait th' exulting troops thy throne surround
With thousand thousand harps of heav'nly sound;
Thrones, Powers, Dominions, (ever-shining trains!)
Shouted thy praises in triumphant strains:
Great are thy Works, they sing, and all around
Great are thy Works, the echoing heav'ns resound.
Th' effulgent sun insufferably bright
Is but a beam of thy o'erflowing light;
The tempest is thy breath: the thunder hurl'd
Tremendous roars thy vengeance o'er the world;
Thou bow'st the heav'ns; the smoking mountains nod,
Rocks fall to dust, and nature owns her God;
Pale tyrants shrink, the atheist stands aghast,
And impious kings in horror breathe their last.
To this great God, alternately I'd pay
The ev'ning anthem, and the morning lay.
[Page 27]
FOR sovereign GOLD I never would repine,
Nor wish the glittering dust of monarchs mine.
What tho' high columns heave into the skies,
Gay cielings shine, and vaulted arches rise,
Tho' fretted gold the sculptur'd roof adorn,
The rubies redden, and the jaspers burn!
Or what alass! avails the gay attire
To wretched man, who breathes but to expire!
Oft on the vilest riches are bestow'd,
To show their meaness in the sight of God.
High from a dunghill, see a Dives rise,
And Titan-like insult th' avenging skies:
The crowd in adulation calls him Lord,
By thousands courted, flatter'd, and ador'd:
In riot plung'd, and drunk with earthly joys,
No higher thought his grov'ling soul employs;
The poor he scourges with an iron rod,
And from his bosom banishes his God.
But oft in height of wealth and beauty's bloom,
Deluded man is fated to the tomb!
For, lo! he sickens, swift his colour flies,
And rising mists obscure his swimming eyes:
[Page 28] Around his bed his weeping friends bemoan,
Extort th' unwilling tear, and wish him gone;
His sorrowing heir augments the tender show'r
Deplores his death—yet hails the dying hour.
Ah bitter comfort! Sad relief to die!
Tho' sunk in down, beneath a canopy!
His eyes no more shall see the chearful light
Weigh'd down by death in everlasting night:
And now the great, the rich, the proud, the gay
Lies breathless, cold—unanimated clay!
He that just now was flatter'd by the crowd
With high applause, and acclamation loud;
That steel'd his bosom to the orphan's cries
And drew down torrents from the widow's eyes;
Whom, like a God, the rabble did adore—
Regard him now—and lo! he is no more.
MY eyes no dazzling vestments should behold
With gemsinstarr'd, and stiff with woven gold
But the tall ram his downy fleece afford
To cloath in modest garb his frugal lord.
Thus the great Father of mankind was drest,
When shaggy hides compos'd his flowing vest:
[Page 29] Doom'd to the cum'brous load for his offence,
When cloaths supply'd the want of innocence;
But now his sons (forgetful whence they came)
Glitter in gems, and glory in their shame.
OFT wou'd I wander thro' the dewy field,
Where clustring roses balmy fragrance yield;
Or in lone grotts for contemplation made,
Converse with angels, and the mighty dead:
For all around unnumber'd spirits fly,
Waft on the breeze, or walk the liquid sky
Inspire the Poet with repeated dreams
Who gives his hallow'd muse to sacred themes,
Protect the just, serene their gloomy hours,
Becalm their slumbers, and refresh their pow'rs.
Methinks I see th' immortal Beings fly,
And swiftly shoot athwart the streaming sky:
Hark! a melodious voice I seem to hear,
And heav'nly sounds invade my list'ning ear.
"Be not afraid of us, innoxious band,
"Thy cell surrounding by divine command;
"E'er while like thee we led our lives below,
"(Sad lives of pain, of misery, and woe!)
[Page 30] "Long by affliction's boist'rous tempests tost,
"We reach'd at legth the ever-blissful coast:
"Now in th' imbow'ring groves, and lawns above
"We taste the raptures of immortal love,
"Attune the golden harp in roseate bow'rs,
"Or bind our temples with unfading flow'rs.
"Oft on kind errands bent, we out the air
"To guard the righteous, heav'ns peculiar care!
"Avertimpending harms, their minds compose
"Inspire gay dreams, and prompt their soft repose.
"When from the tongue divine hosannas roll,
"And sacred raptures swell thy rising soul,
"To heav'n we bear thy pray'rs like rich perfumes,
"Where, by the throne, the golden censer fumes.
"And when with age thy head is silver'd o'er,
"And cold in death, thy bosom beats no more,
"Thy soul exulting shall desert its clay,
"And mount triumphant to eternal day.
BUT to improve the intellectual mind,
Reading should be to contemplation join'd.
First I'd collect from the Parnassian spring,
What muses dictate, and what poets sing.
[Page 31] Virgil as Prince, shou'd wear the laurel'd crown,
And other bards pay homage to his throne:
The blood of heroes now effus'd so long
Will run for ever purple thro' his song.
See! how he mounts toward the blest abodes,
On Planets rides, and talks with demi-gods!
How do our ravish'd spirits melt away,
When in his song Sicilian shepherds play!
But what a splendor strikes the dazzled eye,
When Dido shines in awful majesty!
Embroider'd purple clad the Tyrian queen,
Her motion graceful, and august her mien;
A golden zone her royal limbs embrac'd,
A golden quiver rattled by her waist.
See her proud steed majestically prance!
Contemn the trumpet, and deride the launce!
In crimson trappings, glorious to behold!
Confus'dly gay with inter-woven gold;
He champs the bitt, and throws the foam around,
Impatient paws, and tears the solid ground.
How stern Aeneas thunders thro' the field!
With tow'ring helmet and refulgent shield!
[Page 32] Coursers o'erturn'd, and mighty warriors slain,
Deform'd with gore, lie welt'ring on the plain:
Struck thro' with wounds, ill-fated cheiftains lie,
Frown ev'n in death, and threaten as they die.
Thro' the thick squadrons see the Hero bound!
(His helmet flashes, and his arms resound!)
All grim with rage, he frowns o'er Turnus' head,
(Re-kindled ire! for blooming Pallas dead)
Then in his bosom plung'd the shining blade—
The soul indignant sought the stygian shade.
THE far-fam'd bards that grac'd Britannia's isle,
Shou'd next compose the venerable pile.
Great Milton first, for tow'ring thought renown'd
Parent of song, and fam'd the world around!
His glowing breast divine Urania fir'd
Or GOD himself th' immortal Bard inspir'd.
Borne on triumphant wings he takes his flight,
Explores all heav'n, and treads the realms of light:
In martial pomp he cloaths th' angellic train,
While warring meriads shake th' etherial plain.
First Michael stalks high—tow'ring o'er the rest,
With heav'nly plumage nodding on his crest:
[Page 33] Impenetrable arms his limbs infold,
Eternal adamant, and burning gold!
Sparkling in siery mail, with dire delight,
Rebellious Satan animates the sight:
Armipotent they sink in rolling smoke,
All heav'n resounding to its center shook.
To crush his foes, and quell the dire alarms
MESSIAH sparkled in refulgent arms;
In radiant panoply divinely bright
His limbs incas'd, he flash'd devouring light:
On burning wheels, o'er heav'ns crystalline road
Thunder'd the chariot of the Filial-God;
The burning wheels on golden axles turn'd,
With flaming gems the golden axles burn'd.
Lo! the apostate host with terror struck
Roll back by millions!—Th' empyrean shook!
Scepters, and or bed shields, and crowns of gold,
Cherubs, and Seraphs in confusion roll'd;
Till from his hand the triple thunder hurl'd
Compell'd them headlong to th' infernal world.
THEN tuneful Pope whom all the nine inspire
With saphic sweetness, and pindaric fire,
[Page 34] Father of verse! melodious and divine!
Next peerless Milton shou'd distinguish'd shine.
Smooth flow his numbers when he paints the grove,
Th' inraptur'd virgins list'ning into love.
But when the night, and hoarse-resounding storm
Rush on the deep, and Neptune's face deform,
Rough runs the verse, the sonorous numbers roar
Like the hoarse surge that thunders on the shore.
But when he sings th' exhilirated swains,
Th' imbow'ring groves, and Windsor's blissful plains,
Our eyes are ravish'd with a sylvan scene,
Embroider'd fields, and groves in living green:
His lays the verdure of the meads prolong,
And wither'd forests blossom in his song.
Thame's silver streams his flowing verse admire,
And cease to murmur while he tunes his lyre.
NEXT shou'd appear great Dryden's lofty muse;
For who would Dryden's polish'd verse refuse?
His lips were moistned in Parnassus' spring,
And Phoebus taught his laureat son to sing.
How long did Virgil untranslated moan,
His beauties fading, and his flights unknown;
[Page 35] Till Dryden rose, and in exalted strain
Re-sang the fortune of the God-like man?
Again the Trojan Prince with dire delight,
Dreadful in arms, demands the lingring fight:
Again Camilla glows with martial fire,
Drives armies back, and makes all Troy retire.
With more than native lustre Virgil shines,
And gains sublimer heights in Dryden's lines.
THE gentle Watts who strings his silver lyre
To sacred odes, and heav'ns all-ruling sire;
Who scorns th' applause of the licentious stage,
And mounts yon sparkling worlds with hallow'd rage,
Compells my thoughts to wing the heav'nly road,
And wafts my soul exulting to my God.
No fabled Nine, harmonious bard! inspire
Thy raptur'd breast with such seraphic fire;
But prompting Angels warm thy boundless [...]age,
Direct thy thoughts, and animate thy page.
Blest man! for spotless sanctity rever'd,
Lov'd by the good, and by the guilty fear'd:
Blest man! from gay delusive scenes remov'd,
Thy maker loving, by thy maker lov'd,
[Page 36] To God thou tun'st thy consecrated lays,
Nor meanly blush to sing Jehovah's praise.
Oh! did, like thee, each laurel'd bard delight
To paint Religion in her native light.
Not then with Plays the lab'ring press wou'd groan.
Nor Vice defy the PULPIT and the THRONE;
No impious rhymers charm a vicious age,
Nor prostrate virtue groan beneath their rage:
But themes divine in lofty numbers rise,
Fill the wide earth, and eccho thro' the skies.
THESE for Delight; — for Profit I wou'd read
The labour'd volumes of the learned dead.
Sagacious Lock, by providence design'd
T' exalt, instruct, and rectify the mind.
Th' unconquerable Sage * whom vertue fir'd,
And from the tyrant's lawless rage retir'd,
When victor Coesar freed unhappy Rome
From Pompey's chains, to substitute his own.
Longinus, Livy, fam'd Thucydides,
Quintilian, Plato, and Demosthencs,
[Page 37] Persuasive Tully, and Corduba's Sage,
Who fell by Nero's unrelenting rage;
Him whom ungrateful Athens doom'd to bleed,
Despis'd when living, and deplor'd when dead;
Raleigh I'd read with ever-fresh delight,
While ages past rise present to my sight:
Ah man unblest! he foreign realms explor'd,
Then fell a victim to his country's sword!
Nor should great Derham pass neglected by,
Observant sage! to whose deep-piercing eye
Nature's stupendous works expanded lie.
Nor He, Britannia, thy unmatch'd renown!
(Adjudg'd to wear the philosophic crown,)
Who on the solar orb uplifted rode,
And scann'd th' unfathomable works of God!
Who bound the silver planets to their spheres,
And trac'd th' elliptic curve of blazing stars!
IMMORTAL NEWTON! whose illustrious name.
Will shine on records of eternal fame.
[Page 38]
BY love directed, I wou'd chuse a wife,
T' improve my bliss, and ease the load of life.
Hail Wedlock! hail, inviolable tye!
Perpetual fountain of domestic joy!
Love, friendship, honour, truth, and pure delight
Harmonious mingle in the nuptial rite.
In Eden first the holy state begar,
When perfect innocence distinguish'd man;
The human pair th' Almighty Pontiff led,
Gay as the morning to the bridal bed;
A dread solemnity th' espousals grac'd,
Angles the Witnesses, and GOD the PRIEST!
All earth exulted on the nuptial hour,
And voluntary roses deck'd the bow'r;
The joyous birds on ev'ry blossom'd spray,
Sung Hymeneans to th' important day,
While Philomela swell'd the spousal song,
And Paradise with gratulation rung.
RELATE, inspiring muse! where shall I find
A blooming virgin with an angel-mind?
Unblemish'd as the white-rob'd virgin-quire
That fed, O Rome! thy consecrated fire?
[Page 39] By reason aw'd, ambitious to be good,
Averse to vice, and zealous for her God?
Relate, in what blest region can I find
Such bright perfections in a female mind?
What Phoenix- woman breathes the vital air,
So greatly good, and so divinely fair?
Sure not the gay and fashionable train,
Licentious, proud, immoral and profane;
Who spend their golden hours in antic-dress,
Malicious whispers, and inglorious ease.—
Lo! round the board a shining train appears
In rosy beauty, and in prime of years!
This hates a flounce, and this a flounce approves,
This shews the trophies of her former loves;
Polly avers that Sylvia drest in green,
When last at Church the gaudy Nymph was seen,
Cloe condemns her opties, and will lay
'Twas azure sattin inter-streak'd with grey;
Lucy invested with judicial pow'r
Awards 'twas neither — and the strife is o'er.
[Page 40] Then parrots, lap-dogs, monkeys, squirrels, beaux,
Fans, ribbands, tuckers, patches, furbeloes,
In quick succession thro' their fancies run,
And dance incessant on the flippant tongue.
And when fatigu'd with every other sport,
The belles prepare to grace the sacred court,
They marshal all their forces in array,
To kill with glances, and destroy in play.
Two skillful maids with reverential fear
In wanton wreaths collect their silken hair;
Two paint their cheeks, and round their temples pour
The fragrant unguent, and th' ambrosial show'r;
One pulls the shape-creating stays, and one
Encircles round their waist the golden zone:
Not with more toil t'improve immortal charms,
Strove Juno, Venus, and the Queen of Arms,
When Priam's Son adjudg'd the golden prize,
To the resistless Beauty of the skies.
At length equipp'd in love's enticing arms,
With all that glitters, and with all that charms,
Th' ideal goddesses to church repair,
Peep thro' the fan, and mutter o'er a pray'r,
[Page 41] Or listen to the organ's pompous sound,
Or eye the gilded images around;
Or, deeply studied in coquettish rules,
Aim wily glances at unthinking fools;
Or shew the lilly hand with graceful air,
Or wound the sopling with a lock of hair.
And when the hated discipline is o'er,
And Misses tortur'd with Repent, no more,
They mount the pictur'd coach, and to the play,
The celebrated Idols hie away.
NOT so the Lass that shou'd my joys improve,
With solid friendship, and connubial love:
A native bloom with intermingled white
Should set her features in a pleasing light;
Like Helen flushing with unrival'd charms,
When raptur'd Paris darted in her arms.
But what alas! avails a ruby cheek,
A downy bosom, or a snowy neck!
Charms ill supply the want of innocence,
Nor beauty forms intrinsic excellence:
But in her breast let moral beauties shine,
Supernal grace and purity divine:
[Page 42] Sublime her reason, and her native wit
Unstain'd with pedantry, and low conceit:
Her fancy livelt, and her judgment free
From female prejudice and bigotry:
Averse to idle pomp, and outward show,
The flatt'ring coxcomb, and fantastic beau.
The fop's impertinence she should despise,
Tho' sorely wounded by her radiant eyes;
But pay due rev'rence to th' exalted mind
By learning polish'd, and by wit refin'd,
Who all virtues, without guile commends,
And all her faults as freely reprehends.
Soft Hymen's rites her passions should approve,
And in her bosom glow the flames of love:
To me her soul by sacred friendship turn,
And I for her with equal friendship burn:
In ev'ry stage of life afford relief.
Partake my joys, and sympathize my grief:
Unshaken walk in vertue's peaceful road,
Nor bride her reason to pursue the mode;
Mild as the saint whose errors are forgiv'n,
Calm as a vestal, and compos'd as heav'n.
[Page 43] This be the partner, this the lovely wife
That should embellish, and prolong my life;
A nymph! who might a second fall inspire,
And fill a glowing Cherub with desire!
With her I'd spend the pleasurable day,
While fleeting minutes gayly danc'd away:
With her I'd walk delighted o'er the green,
Thro' ev'ry blooming mead, and rural scene,
Or sit in open fields damask'd with flow'rs,
Or where cool shades imbrown the noon-tide bow'rs
Imparadis'd within my eager arms,
I'd reign the happy monarch of her charms.
Oft on her panting bosom would I lay,
And in dissolving raptures melt away;
The lull'd by nightingales to balmy rest,
My blooming fair shou'd slumber at my breast.
AND when decrepid age (frail mortal's doom!)
Should bend my wither'd body to the tomb,
No warbling Syrens shou'd retard my flight
To heav'nly mansions of unclouded light.
[Page 44] Tho' Death, with his imperial horrors crown'd,
Terrific grinn'd, and formidably frown'd,
Offences pardon'd, and remitted sin
Shou'd form a calm serenity within:
Blessing my natal and my mortal hour,
(My soul committed to th' eternal pow'r)
Inexorable Death shou'd smile, for I
Who knew to LIVE, wou'd never fear to DIE.
FINIS.

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