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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +This "Small Print!" by Charles B. Kramer, Attorney +Internet (72600.2026@compuserve.com); TEL: (212-254-5093) +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +POEMS +ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, +RELIGIOUS AND MORAL. + + +BY PHILLIS WHEATLEY, + +NEGRO SERVANT TO MR. JOHN WHEATLEY, +OF BOSTON, IN NEW-ENGLAND. + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + +TO Maecenas +On Virtue +To the University of Cambridge, in New England +To the King's Most Excellent Majesty +On being brought from Africa +On the Rev. Dr. Sewell +On the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield +On the Death of a young Lady of five Years of Age +On the Death of a young Gentleman +To a Lady on the Death of her Husband +Goliath of Gath +Thoughts on the Works of Providence +To a Lady on the Death of three Relations +To a Clergyman on the Death of his Lady +An Hymn to the Morning +An Hymn to the Evening +On Isaiah lxiii. 1------8 +On Recollection +On Imagination +A Funeral Poem on the Death of an Infant aged + twelve Months +To Captain H. D. of the 65th Regiment +To the Right Hon. William, Earl of Dartmouth +Ode to Neptune +To a Lady on her coming to North America with + her Son, for the Recovery of her Health +To a Lady on her remarkable Preservation in a + Hurricane in North Carolina +To a Lady and her Children on the Death of the Lady's Brother + and Sister, and a Child of the Name + of Avis, aged one Year +On the Death of Dr. Samuel Marshall, +To a Gentleman on his Voyage to Great-Britain, + for the Recovery of his Health +To the Rev. Dr. Thomas Amory on reading his Sermons + on Daily Devotion, in which that Duty is + recommended and assisted +On the Death of J. C. an Infant +An Hymn to Humanity +To the Hon. T. H. Esq; on the Death of his Daughter +Niobe in Distress for her Children slain by Apollo, +from Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book VI, and from a View +of the Painting of Mr. Richard Wilson + +To S. M. a young African Painter, on seeing his Works +To his Honour the Lieutenant-Governor, + on the Death of his Lady +A Farewel to America +A Rebus by I. B. +An Answer to ditto, by Phillis Wheatley + + + +TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE +COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON, +THE FOLLOWING +P O E M S +ARE MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. +BY HER MUCH OBLIGED, +VERY HUMBLE +AND DEVOTED SERVANT. +PHILLIS WHEATLEY. + +BOSTON, JUNE 12, 1773. + + + +P R E F A C E. + +THE following POEMS were written +originally for the Amusement of +the Author, as they were the Products +of her leisure Moments. She had no +Intention ever to have published them; +nor would they now have made their +Appearance, but at the Importunity of +many of her best, and most generous +Friends; to whom she considers herself, +as under the greatest Obligations. + + As her Attempts in Poetry are now +sent into the World, it is hoped the +Critic will not severely censure their +Defects; and we presume they have too +much Merit to be cast aside with Con- +tempt, as worthless and trifling Effu- +sions. + As to the Disadvantages she has la- +boured under, with Regard to Learn- +ing, nothing needs to be offered, as her +Master's Letter in the following Page +will sufficiently show the Difficulties in +this Respect she had to encounter. + + With all their Imperfections, the +Poems are now humbly submitted to +the Perusal of the Public. + + + +The following is a Copy of a LETTER sent +by the Author's Master to the Publisher. + +PHILLIS was brought from Africa to Ame- +rica, in the Year 1761, between seven +and eight Years of Age. Without any Assist- +ance from School Education, and by only +what she was taught in the Family, she, in +sixteen Months Time from her Arrival, at- +tained the English language, to which she +was an utter Stranger before, to such a de- +gree, as to read any, the most difficult Parts +of the Sacred Writings, to the great Asto- +nishment of all who heard her. + + As to her WRITING, her own Curiosity +led her to it; and this she learnt in so short a +Time, that in the Year 1765, she wrote a +Letter to the Rev. Mr. OCCOM, the Indian +Minister, while in England. + + She has a great Inclination to learn the +Latin Tongue, and has made some Progress +in it. This Relation is given by her Master +who bought her, and with whom she now lives. + + JOHN WHEATLEY. + +Boston, Nov. 14, 1772. + + + + +To the PUBLIC. + + AS it has been repeatedly suggested to the Publisher, by +Persons, who have seen the Manuscript, that Num- +bers would be ready to suspect they were not really the +Writings of PHILLIS, he has procured the following +Attestation, from the most respectable Characters in Boston, +that none might have the least Ground for disputing their +Original. + + WE whose Names are under-written, do assure the +World, that the POEMS specified in the following Page,* +were (as we verily believe) written by Phillis, a young +Negro Girl, who was but a few Years since, brought an +uncultivated Barbarian from Africa, and has ever since +been, and now is, under the Disadvantage of serving as +a Slave in a Family in this Town. She has been examin- +ed by some of the best Judges, and is thought qualified +to write them. + + His Excellency THOMAS HUTCHINSON, Governor. + + The Hon. ANDREW OLIVER, Lieutenant-Governor. + +The Hon. Thomas Hubbard, | The Rev. Charles Chauncey, D. D. +The Hon. John Erving, | The Rev. Mather Byles, D. D. +The Hon. James Pitts, | The Rev. Ed. Pemberton, D. D. +The Hon. Harrison Gray, | The Rev. Andrew Elliot, D. D. +The Hon. James Bowdoin, | The Rev. Samuel Cooper, D. D. +John Hancock, Esq; | The Rev. Mr. Saumel Mather, +Joseph Green, Esq; | The Rev. Mr. John Moorhead, +Richard Carey, Esq; | Mr. John Wheat ey, her Master. + +N. B. The original Attestation, signed by the above Gen- + tlemen, may be seen by applying to Archibald Bell, Book- + seller, No. 8, Aldgate-Street. + +_________________________________________________________ + + *The Words "following Page," allude to the Con- +tents of the Manuscript Copy, with are wrote at the +Back of the above Attestation. + + + + +P O E M S + + O N + +V A R I O U S S U B J E C T S. + +___________ + +To M AE C E N A S. + +MAECENAS, you, beneath the myrtle shade, +Read o'er what poets sung, and shepherds play'd. +What felt those poets but you feel the same? +Does not your soul possess the sacred flame? +Their noble strains your equal genius shares +In softer language, and diviner airs. + While Homer paints, lo! circumfus'd in air, +Celestial Gods in mortal forms appear; +Swift as they move hear each recess rebound, +Heav'n quakes, earth trembles, and the shores resound. +Great Sire of verse, before my mortal eyes, +The lightnings blaze across the vaulted skies, +And, as the thunder shakes the heav'nly plains, +A deep felt horror thrills through all my veins. +When gentler strains demand thy graceful song, +The length'ning line moves languishing along. +When great Patroclus courts Achilles' aid, +The grateful tribute of my tears is paid; +Prone on the shore he feels the pangs of love, +And stern Pelides tend'rest passions move. + Great Maro's strain in heav'nly numbers flows, +The Nine inspire, and all the bosom glows. +O could I rival thine and Virgil's page, +Or claim the Muses with the Mantuan Sage; +Soon the same beauties should my mind adorn, +And the same ardors in my soul should burn: +Then should my song in bolder notes arise, +And all my numbers pleasingly surprise; +But here I sit, and mourn a grov'ling mind, +That fain would mount, and ride upon the wind. + Not you, my friend, these plaintive strains become, +Not you, whose bosom is the Muses home; +When they from tow'ring Helicon retire, +They fan in you the bright immortal fire, +But I less happy, cannot raise the song, +The fault'ring music dies upon my tongue. + The happier Terence* all the choir inspir'd, +His soul replenish'd, and his bosom fir'd; +But say, ye Muses, why this partial grace, +To one alone of Afric's sable race; +From age to age transmitting thus his name +With the finest glory in the rolls of fame? + Thy virtues, great Maecenas! shall be sung +In praise of him, from whom those virtues sprung: +While blooming wreaths around thy temples spread, +I'll snatch a laurel from thine honour'd head, +While you indulgent smile upon the deed. + + *He was an African by birth. + + As long as Thames in streams majestic flows, +Or Naiads in their oozy beds repose +While Phoebus reigns above the starry train +While bright Aurora purples o'er the main, +So long, great Sir, the muse thy praise shall sing, +So long thy praise shal' make Parnassus ring: +Then grant, Maecenas, thy paternal rays, +Hear me propitious, and defend my lays. + + +O N V I R T U E. + +O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive +To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare +Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach. +I cease to wonder, and no more attempt +Thine height t' explore, or fathom thy profound. +But, O my soul, sink not into despair, +Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand +Would now embrace thee, hovers o'er thine head. +Fain would the heav'n-born soul with her converse, +Then seek, then court her for her promis'd bliss. + Auspicious queen, thine heav'nly pinions spread, +And lead celestial Chastity along; +Lo! now her sacred retinue descends, +Array'd in glory from the orbs above. +Attend me, Virtue, thro' my youthful years! +O leave me not to the false joys of time! +But guide my steps to endless life and bliss. +Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee, +To give me an higher appellation still, +Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay, +O thou, enthron'd with Cherubs in the realms of day. + + + +TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, +IN NEW-ENGLAND. + +WHILE an intrinsic ardor prompts to write, +The muses promise to assist my pen; +'Twas not long since I left my native shore +The land of errors, and Egyptain gloom: +Father of mercy, 'twas thy gracious hand +Brought me in safety from those dark abodes. + Students, to you 'tis giv'n to scan the heights +Above, to traverse the ethereal space, +And mark the systems of revolving worlds. +Still more, ye sons of science ye receive +The blissful news by messengers from heav'n, +How Jesus' blood for your redemption flows. +See him with hands out-stretcht upon the cross; +Immense compassion in his bosom glows; +He hears revilers, nor resents their scorn: +What matchless mercy in the Son of God! +When the whole human race by sin had fall'n, +He deign'd to die that they might rise again, +And share with him in the sublimest skies, +Life without death, and glory without end. + Improve your privileges while they stay, +Ye pupils, and each hour redeem, that bears +Or good or bad report of you to heav'n. +Let sin, that baneful evil to the soul, +By you be shun'd, nor once remit your guard; +Suppress the deadly serpent in its egg. +Ye blooming plants of human race divine, +An Ethiop tells you 'tis your greatest foe; +Its transient sweetness turns to endless pain, +And in immense perdition sinks the soul. + + + +TO THE KING'S MOST EXCELLENT +MAJESTY. 1768. + +YOUR subjects hope, dread Sire-- +The crown upon your brows may flourish long, +And that your arm may in your God be strong! +O may your sceptre num'rous nations sway, +And all with love and readiness obey! + But how shall we the British king reward! +Rule thou in peace, our father, and our lord! +Midst the remembrance of thy favours past, +The meanest peasants most admire the last* +May George, beloved by all the nations round, +Live with heav'ns choicest constant blessings crown'd! +Great God, direct, and guard him from on high, +And from his head let ev'ry evil fly! +And may each clime with equal gladness see +A monarch's smile can set his subjects free! + + * The Repeal of the Stamp Act. + + +On being brought from Africa to America. + +'TWAS mercy brought me from my Pagan land, +Taught my benighted soul to understand +That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too: +Once I redemption neither fought now knew, +Some view our sable race with scornful eye, +"Their colour is a diabolic die." +Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, +May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train. + + + +On the Death of the Rev. Dr. SEWELL, +1769. + +ERE yet the morn its lovely blushes spread, +See Sewell number'd with the happy dead. +Hail, holy man, arriv'd th' immortal shore, +Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more. +Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes +The saint ascending to his native skies; +From hence the prophet wing'd his rapt'rous way +To the blest mansions in eternal day. +Then begging for the Spirit of our God, +And panting eager for the same abode, +Come, let us all with the same vigour rise, +And take a prospect of the blissful skies; +While on our minds Christ's image is imprest, +And the dear Saviour glows in ev'ry breast. +Thrice happy faint! to find thy heav'n at last, +What compensation for the evils past! + Great God, incomprehensible, unknown +By sense, we bow at thine exalted throne. +O, while we beg thine excellence to feel, +Thy sacred Spirit to our hearts reveal, +And give us of that mercy to partake, +Which thou hast promis'd for the Saviour's sake! + "Sewell is dead." Swift-pinion'd Fame thus cry'd. +"Is Sewell dead," my trembling tongue reply'd, +O what a blessing in his flight deny'd! +How oft for us the holy prophet pray'd! +How oft to us the Word of Life convey'd! +By duty urg'd my mournful verse to close, +I for his tomb this epitaph compose. + "Lo, here a man, redeem'd by Jesus's blood, +"A sinner once, but now a saint with God; +"Behold ye rich, ye poor, ye fools, ye wise, +"Not let his monument your heart surprise; +"Twill tell you what this holy man has done, +"Which gives him brighter lustre than the sun. +"Listen, ye happy, from your seats above. +"I speak sincerely, while I speak and love, +"He fought the paths of piety and truth, +"By these made happy from his early youth; +"In blooming years that grace divine he felt, +"Which rescues sinners from the chains of guilt. +"Mourn him, ye indigent, whom he has fed, +"And henceforth seek, like him, for living bread; +"Ev'n Christ, the bread descending from above, +"And ask an int'rest in his saving love. +"Mourn him, ye youth, to whom he oft has told +"God's gracious wonders from the times of old. +"I too have cause this mighty loss to mourn, +"For he my monitor will not return. +"O when shall we to his blest state arrive? +"When the same graces in our bosoms thrive." + + +On the Death of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE + WHITEFIELD. 1770. + +HAIL, happy saint, on thine immortal throne, +Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown; +We hear no more the music of thy tongue, +Thy wonted auditories cease to throng. +Thy sermons in unequall'd accents flow'd, +And ev'ry bosom with devotion glow'd; +Thou didst in strains of eloquence refin'd +Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind. +Unhappy we the setting sun deplore, +So glorious once, but ah! it shines no more. + Behold the prophet in his tow'ring flight! +He leaves the earth for heav'n's unmeasur'd height, +And worlds unknown receive him from our sight. +There Whitefield wings with rapid course his way, +And sails to Zion through vast seas of day. +Thy pray'rs, great saint, and thine incessant cries +Have pierc'd the bosom of thy native skies. +Thou moon hast seen, and all the stars of light, +How he has wrestled with his God by night. +He pray'd that grace in ev'ry heart might dwell, +He long'd to see America excell; +He charg'd its youth that ev'ry grace divine +Should with full lustre in their conduct shine; +That Saviour, which his soul did first receive, +The greatest gift that ev'n a God can give, +He freely offer'd to the num'rous throng, +That on his lips with list'ning pleasure hung. + "Take him, ye wretched, for your only good, +"Take him ye starving sinners, for your food; +"Ye thirsty, come to this life-giving stream, +"Ye preachers, take him for your joyful theme; +"Take him my dear Americans, he said, +"Be your complaints on his kind bosom laid: +"Take him, ye Africans, he longs for you, +"Impartial Saviour is his title due: +"Wash'd in the fountain of redeeming blood, +"You shall be sons, and kings, and priests to God." + Great Countess,* we Americans revere +Thy name, and mingle in thy grief sincere; +New England deeply feels, the Orphans mourn, +Their more than father will no more return. + But, though arrested by the hand of death, +Whitefield no more exerts his lab'ring breath, +Yet let us view him in th' eternal skies, +Let ev'ry heart to this bright vision rise; +While the tomb safe retains its sacred trust, +Till life divine re-animates his dust. + +*The Countess of Huntingdon, to whom Mr. Whitefield was + Chaplain. + + +On the Death of a young Lady of Five Years + of Age. + +FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light +Th' enraptur'd innocent has wing'd her flight; +On the kind bosom of eternal love +She finds unknown beatitude above. +This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore, +She feels the iron hand of pain no more; +The dispensations of unerring grace, +Should turn your sorrows into grateful praise; +Let then no tears for her henceforward flow, +No more distress'd in our dark vale below, + Her morning sun, which rose divinely bright, +Was quickly mantled with the gloom of night; +But hear in heav'n's blest bow'rs your Nancy fair, +And learn to imitate her language there. +"Thou, Lord, whom I behold with glory crown'd, +"By what sweet name, and in what tuneful sound +"Wilt thou be prais'd? Seraphic pow'rs are faint +"Infinite love and majesty to paint. +"To thee let all their graceful voices raise, +"And saints and angels join their songs of praise." + Perfect in bliss she from her heav'nly home +Looks down, and smiling beckons you to come; +Why then, fond parents, why these fruitless groans? +Restrain your tears, and cease your plaintive moans. +Freed from a world of sin, and snares, and pain, +Why would you wish your daughter back again? +No--bow resign'd. Let hope your grief control, +And check the rising tumult of the soul. +Calm in the prosperous, and adverse day, +Adore the God who gives and takes away; +Eye him in all, his holy name revere, +Upright your actions, and your hearts sincere, +Till having sail'd through life's tempestuous sea, +And from its rocks, and boist'rous billows free, +Yourselves, safe landed on the blissful shore, +Shall join your happy babe to part no more. + + +On the Death of a young Gentleman. + +WHO taught thee conflict with the pow'rs of night, +To vanquish satan in the fields of light? +Who strung thy feeble arms with might unknown, +How great thy conquest, and how bright thy crown! +War with each princedom, throne, and pow'r is o'er, +The scene is ended to return no more. +O could my muse thy seat on high behold, +How deckt with laurel, how enrich'd with gold! +O could she hear what praise thine harp employs, +How sweet thine anthems, how divine thy joys! +What heav'nly grandeur should exalt her strain! +What holy raptures in her numbers reign! +To sooth the troubles of the mind to peace, +To still the tumult of life's tossing seas, +To ease the anguish of the parents heart, +What shall my sympathizing verse impart? +Where is the balm to heal so deep a wound? +Where shall a sov'reign remedy be found? +Look, gracious Spirit, from thine heav'nly bow'r, +And thy full joys into their bosoms pour; +The raging tempest of their grief control, +And spread the dawn of glory through the soul, +To eye the path the saint departed trod, +And trace him to the bosom of his God. + + +To a Lady on the Death of her Husband. + +GRIM monarch! see, depriv'd of vital breath, +A young physician in the dust of death: +Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, +Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? +Enough thou never yet wast known to say, +Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: +Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love, +Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move. +The friend, the spouse from his dire dart to save, +In vain we ask the sovereign of the grave. +Fair mourner, there see thy lov'd Leonard laid, +And o'er him spread the deep impervious shade. +Clos'd are his eyes, and heavy fetters keep +His senses bound in never-waking sleep, +Till time shall cease, till many a starry world +Shall fall from heav'n, in dire confusion hurl'd +Till nature in her final wreck shall lie, +And her last groan shall rend the azure sky: +Not, not till then his active soul shall claim +His body, a divine immortal frame. + But see the softly-stealing tears apace +Pursue each other down the mourner's face; +But cease thy tears, bid ev'ry sigh depart, +And cast the load of anguish from thine heart: +From the cold shell of his great soul arise, +And look beyond, thou native of the skies; +There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind +Thy Leonard mounts, and leaves the earth behind. +Thyself prepare to pass the vale of night +To join for ever on the hills of light: +To thine embrace this joyful spirit moves +To thee, the partner of his earthly loves; +He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin'd, +And better suited to th' immortal mind. + + +G O L I A T H O F G A T H. + 1 SAMUEL, Chap. xvii. + +YE martial pow'rs, and all ye tuneful nine, +Inspire my song, and aid my high design. +The dreadful scenes and toils of war I write, +The ardent warriors, and the fields of fight: +You best remember, and you best can sing +The acts of heroes to the vocal string: +Resume the lays with which your sacred lyre, +Did then the poet and the sage inspire. + Now front to front the armies were display'd, +Here Israel rang'd, and there the foes array'd; +The hosts on two opposing mountains stood, +Thick as the foliage of the waving wood; +Between them an extensive valley lay, +O'er which the gleaming armour pour'd the day, +When from the camp of the Philistine foes, +Dreadful to view, a mighty warrior rose; +In the dire deeds of bleeding battle skill'd, +The monster stalks the terror of the field. +From Gath he sprung, Goliath was his name, +Of fierce deportment, and gigantic frame: +A brazen helmet on his head was plac'd, +A coat of mail his form terrific grac'd, +The greaves his legs, the targe his shoulders prest: +Dreadful in arms high-tow'ring o'er the rest +A spear he proudly wav'd, whose iron head, +Strange to relate, six hundred shekels weigh'd; +He strode along, and shook the ample field, +While Phoebus blaz'd refulgent on his shield: +Through Jacob's race a chilling horror ran, +When thus the huge, enormous chief began: + "Say, what the cause that in this proud array +"You set your battle in the face of day? +"One hero find in all your vaunting train, +"Then see who loses, and who wins the plain; +"For he who wins, in triumph may demand +"Perpetual service from the vanquish'd land: +"Your armies I defy, your force despise, +"By far inferior in Philistia's eyes: +"Produce a man, and let us try the fight, +"Decide the contest, and the victor's right." + Thus challeng'd he: all Israel stood amaz'd, +And ev'ry chief in consternation gaz'd; +But Jesse's son in youthful bloom appears, +And warlike courage far beyond his years: +He left the folds, he left the flow'ry meads, +And soft recesses of the sylvan shades. +Now Israel's monarch, and his troops arise, +With peals of shouts ascending to the skies; +In Elah's vale the scene of combat lies. + When the fair morning blush'd with orient red, +What David's fire enjoin'd the son obey'd, +And swift of foot towards the trench he came, +Where glow'd each bosom with the martial flame. +He leaves his carriage to another's care, +And runs to greet his brethren of the war. +While yet they spake the giant-chief arose, +Repeats the challenge, and insults his foes: +Struck with the sound, and trembling at the view, +Affrighted Israel from its post withdrew. +"Observe ye this tremendous foe, they cry'd, +"Who in proud vaunts our armies hath defy'd: +"Whoever lays him prostrate on the plain, +"Freedom in Israel for his house shall gain; +"And on him wealth unknown the king will pour, +"And give his royal daughter for his dow'r." + Then Jesse's youngest hope: "My brethren say, +"What shall be done for him who takes away +"Reproach from Jacob, who destroys the chief. +"And puts a period to his country's grief. +"He vaunts the honours of his arms abroad, +"And scorns the armies of the living God." + Thus spoke the youth, th' attentive people ey'd +The wond'rous hero, and again reply'd: +"Such the rewards our monarch will bestow, +"On him who conquers, and destroys his foe." + Eliab heard, and kindled into ire +To hear his shepherd brother thus inquire, +And thus begun: "What errand brought thee? say +"Who keeps thy flock? or does it go astray? +"I know the base ambition of thine heart, +"But back in safety from the field depart." + Eliab thus to Jesse's youngest heir, +Express'd his wrath in accents most severe. +When to his brother mildly he reply'd. +"What have I done? or what the cause to chide? + The words were told before the king, who sent +For the young hero to his royal tent: +Before the monarch dauntless he began, +"For this Philistine fail no heart of man: +"I'll take the vale, and with the giant fight: +"I dread not all his boasts, nor all his might." +When thus the king: "Dar'st thou a stripling go, +"And venture combat with so great a foe? +"Who all his days has been inur'd to fight, +"And made its deeds his study and delight: +"Battles and bloodshed brought the monster forth, +"And clouds and whirlwinds usher'd in his birth." +When David thus: "I kept the fleecy care, +"And out there rush'd a lion and a bear; +"A tender lamb the hungry lion took, +"And with no other weapon than my crook +"Bold I pursu'd, and chas d him o'er the field, +"The prey deliver'd, and the felon kill'd: +"As thus the lion and the bear I slew, +"So shall Goliath fall, and all his crew: +"The God, who sav'd me from these beasts of prey, +"By me this monster in the dust shall lay." +So David spoke. The wond'ring king reply'd; +"Go thou with heav'n and victory on thy side: +"This coat of mail, this sword gird on," he said, +And plac'd a mighty helmet on his head: +The coat, the sword, the helm he laid aside, +Nor chose to venture with those arms untry'd, +Then took his staff, and to the neighb'ring brook +Instant he ran, and thence five pebbles took. +Mean time descended to Philistia's son +A radiant cherub, and he thus begun: +"Goliath, well thou know'st thou hast defy'd +"Yon Hebrew armies, and their God deny'd: +"Rebellious wretch! audacious worm! forbear, +"Nor tempt the vengeance of their God too far: +"Them, who with his Omnipotence contend, +"No eye shall pity, and no arm defend: +"Proud as thou art, in short liv'd glory great, +"I come to tell thee thine approaching fate. +"Regard my words. The Judge of all the gods, +"Beneath whose steps the tow'ring mountain nods, +"Will give thine armies to the savage brood, +"That cut the liquid air, or range the wood. +"Thee too a well-aim'd pebble shall destroy, +"And thou shalt perish by a beardless boy: +"Such is the mandate from the realms above, +"And should I try the vengeance to remove, +"Myself a rebel to my king would prove. +"Goliath say, shall grace to him be shown, +"Who dares heav'ns Monarch, and insults his throne?" + "Your words are lost on me," the giant cries, +While fear and wrath contended in his eyes, +When thus the messenger from heav'n replies: +"Provoke no more Jehovah's awful hand +"To hurl its vengeance on thy guilty land: +"He grasps the thunder, and, he wings the storm, +"Servants their sov'reign's orders to perform." + The angel spoke, and turn'd his eyes away, +Adding new radiance to the rising day. + Now David comes: the fatal stones demand +His left, the staff engag'd his better hand: +The giant mov'd, and from his tow'ring height +Survey'd the stripling, and disdain'd the fight, +And thus began: "Am I a dog with thee? +"Bring'st thou no armour, but a staff to me? +"The gods on thee their vollied curses pour, +"And beasts and birds of prey thy flesh devour." + David undaunted thus, "Thy spear and shield +"Shall no protection to thy body yield: +"Jehovah's name------no other arms I bear, +"I ask no other in this glorious war. +"To-day the Lord of Hosts to me will give +"Vict'ry, to-day thy doom thou shalt receive; +"The fate you threaten shall your own become, +"And beasts shall be your animated tomb, +"That all the earth's inhabitants may know +"That there's a God, who governs all below: +"This great assembly too shall witness stand, +"That needs nor sword, nor spear, th' Almighty's + hand: +"The battle his, the conquest he bestows, +"And to our pow'r consigns our hated foes." + Thus David spoke; Goliath heard and came +To meet the hero in the field of fame. +Ah! fatal meeting to thy troops and thee, +But thou wast deaf to the divine decree; +Young David meets thee, meets thee not in vain; +'Tis thine to perish on th' ensanguin'd plain. + And now the youth the forceful pebble slung +Philistia trembled as it whizz'd along: +In his dread forehead, where the helmet ends, +Just o'er the brows the well-aim'd stone descends, +It pierc'd the skull, and shatter'd all the brain, +Prone on his face he tumbled to the plain: +Goliath's fall no smaller terror yields +Than riving thunders in aerial fields: +The soul still ling'red in its lov'd abode, +Till conq'ring David o'er the giant strode: +Goliath's sword then laid its master dead, +And from the body hew'd the ghastly head; +The blood in gushing torrents drench'd the plains, +The soul found passage through the spouting veins. + And now aloud th' illustrious victor said, +"Where are your boastings now your champion's + "dead?" +Scarce had he spoke, when the Philistines fled: +But fled in vain; the conqu'ror swift pursu'd: +What scenes of slaughter! and what seas of blood! +There Saul thy thousands grasp'd th' impurpled sand +In pangs of death the conquest of thine hand; +And David there were thy ten thousands laid: +Thus Israel's damsels musically play'd. + Near Gath and Edron many an hero lay, +Breath'd out their souls, and curs'd the light of day: +Their fury, quench'd by death, no longer burns, +And David with Goliath's head returns, +To Salem brought, but in his tent he plac'd +The load of armour which the giant grac'd. +His monarch saw him coming from the war, +And thus demanded of the son of Ner. +"Say, who is this amazing youth?" he cry'd, +When thus the leader of the host reply'd; +"As lives thy soul I know not whence he sprung, +"So great in prowess though in years so young:" +"Inquire whose son is he," the sov'reign said, +"Before whose conq'ring arm Philistia fled." +Before the king behold the stripling stand, +Goliath's head depending from his hand: +To him the king: "Say of what martial line +"Art thou, young hero, and what sire was thine?" +He humbly thus; "The son of Jesse I: +"I came the glories of the field to try. +"Small is my tribe, but valiant in the fight; +"Small is my city, but thy royal right." +"Then take the promis'd gifts," the monarch cry'd, +Conferring riches and the royal bride: +"Knit to my soul for ever thou remain +"With me, nor quit my regal roof again." + + +Thoughts on the WORKS OF PROVIDENCE. + +A R I S E, my soul, on wings enraptur'd, rise +To praise the monarch of the earth and skies, +Whose goodness and benificence appear +As round its centre moves the rolling year, +Or when the morning glows with rosy charms, +Or the sun slumbers in the ocean's arms: +Of light divine be a rich portion lent +To guide my soul, and favour my intend. +Celestial muse, my arduous flight sustain +And raise my mind to a seraphic strain! + Ador'd for ever be the God unseen, +Which round the sun revolves this vast machine, +Though to his eye its mass a point appears: +Ador'd the God that whirls surrounding spheres, +Which first ordain'd that mighty Sol should reign +The peerless monarch of th' ethereal train: +Of miles twice forty millions is his height, +And yet his radiance dazzles mortal sight +So far beneath--from him th' extended earth +Vigour derives, and ev'ry flow'ry birth: +Vast through her orb she moves with easy grace +Around her Phoebus in unbounded space; +True to her course th' impetuous storm derides, +Triumphant o'er the winds, and surging tides. + Almighty, in these wond'rous works of thine, +What Pow'r, what Wisdom, and what Goodness shine! +And are thy wonders, Lord, by men explor'd, +And yet creating glory unador'd! + Creation smiles in various beauty gay, +While day to night, and night succeeds to day: +That Wisdom, which attends Jehovah's ways, +Shines most conspicuous in the solar rays: +Without them, destitute of heat and light, +This world would be the reign of endless night: +In their excess how would our race complain, +Abhorring life! how hate its length'ned chain! +From air adust what num'rous ills would rise? +What dire contagion taint the burning skies? +What pestilential vapours, fraught with death, +Would rise, and overspread the lands beneath? + Hail, smiling morn, that from the orient main +Ascending dost adorn the heav'nly plain! +So rich, so various are thy beauteous dies, +That spread through all the circuit of the skies, +That, full of thee, my soul in rapture soars, +And thy great God, the cause of all adores. + O'er beings infinite his love extends, +His Wisdom rules them, and his Pow'r defends. +When tasks diurnal tire the human frame, +The spirits faint, and dim the vital flame, +Then too that ever active bounty shines, +Which not infinity of space confines. +The sable veil, that Night in silence draws, +Conceals effects, but shows th' Almighty Cause, +Night seals in sleep the wide creation fair, +And all is peaceful but the brow of care. +Again, gay Phoebus, as the day before, +Wakes ev'ry eye, but what shall wake no more; +Again the face of nature is renew'd, +Which still appears harmonious, fair, and good. +May grateful strains salute the smiling morn, +Before its beams the eastern hills adorn! + Shall day to day, and night to night conspire +To show the goodness of the Almighty Sire? +This mental voice shall man regardless hear, +And never, never raise the filial pray'r? +To-day, O hearken, nor your folly mourn +For time mispent, that never will return. + But see the sons of vegetation rise, +And spread their leafy banners to the skies. +All-wise Almighty Providence we trace +In trees, and plants, and all the flow'ry race; +As clear as in the nobler frame of man, +All lovely copies of the Maker's plan. +The pow'r the same that forms a ray of light, +That call d creation from eternal night. +"Let there be light," he said: from his profound +Old Chaos heard, and trembled at the sound: +Swift as the word, inspir'd by pow'r divine, +Behold the light around its Maker shine, +The first fair product of th' omnific God, +And now through all his works diffus'd abroad. + As reason's pow'rs by day our God disclose, +So we may trace him in the night's repose: +Say what is sleep? and dreams how passing strange! +When action ceases, and ideas range +Licentious and unbounded o'er the plains, +Where Fancy's queen in giddy triumph reigns. +Hear in soft strains the dreaming lover sigh +To a kind fair, or rave in jealousy; +On pleasure now, and now on vengeance bent, +The lab'ring passions struggle for a vent. +What pow'r, O man! thy reason then restores, +So long suspended in nocturnal hours? +What secret hand returns the mental train, +And gives improv'd thine active pow'rs again? +From thee, O man, what gratitude should rise! +And, when from balmy sleep thou op'st thine eyes, +Let thy first thoughts be praises to the skies. +How merciful our God who thus imparts +O'erflowing tides of joy to human hearts, +When wants and woes might be our righteous lot, +Our God forgetting, by our God forgot! + Among the mental pow'rs a question rose, +"What most the image of th' Eternal shows?" +When thus to Reason (so let Fancy rove) +Her great companion spoke immortal Love. + "Say, mighty pow'r, how long shall strife prevail, +"And with its murmurs load the whisp'ring gale? +"Refer the cause to Recollection's shrine, +"Who loud proclaims my origin divine, +"The cause whence heav'n and earth began to be, +"And is not man immortaliz'd by me? +"Reason let this most causeless strife subside." +Thus Love pronounc'd, and Reason thus reply'd. + "Thy birth, coelestial queen! 'tis mine to own, +"In thee resplendent is the Godhead shown; +"Thy words persuade, my soul enraptur'd feels +"Resistless beauty which thy smile reveals." +Ardent she spoke, and, kindling at her charms, +She clasp'd the blooming goddess in her arms. + Infinite Love where'er we turn our eyes +Appears: this ev'ry creature's wants supplies; +This most is heard in Nature's constant voice, +This makes the morn, and this the eve rejoice; +This bids the fost'ring rains and dews descend +To nourish all, to serve one gen'ral end, +The good of man: yet man ungrateful pays +But little homage, and but little praise. +To him, whose works arry'd with mercy shine, +What songs should rise, how constant, how divine! + + +To a Lady on the Death of three Relations. + +WE trace the pow'r of Death from tomb to tomb, +And his are all the ages yet to come. +'Tis his to call the planets from on high, +To blacken Phoebus, and dissolve the sky; +His too, when all in his dark realms are hurl'd, +From its firm base to shake the solid world; +His fatal sceptre rules the spacious whole, +And trembling nature rocks from pole to pole. + Awful he moves, and wide his wings are spread: +Behold thy brother number'd with the dead! +From bondage freed, the exulting spirit flies +Beyond Olympus, and these starry skies. +Lost in our woe for thee, blest shade, we mourn +In vain; to earth thou never must return. +Thy sisters too, fair mourner, feel the dart +Of Death, and with fresh torture rend thine heart. +Weep not for them, and leave the world behind. + As a young plant by hurricanes up torn, +So near its parent lies the newly born-- +But 'midst the bright ehtereal train behold +It shines superior on a throne of gold: +Then, mourner, cease; let hope thy tears restrain, +Smile on the tomb, and sooth the raging pain. +On yon blest regions fix thy longing view, +Mindless of sublunary scenes below; +Ascend the sacred mount, in thought arise, +And seek substantial and immortal joys; +Where hope receives, where faith to vision springs, +And raptur'd seraphs tune th' immortal strings +To strains extatic. Thou the chorus join, +And to thy father tune the praise divine. + + +To a Clergyman on the Death of his Lady. + +WHERE contemplation finds her sacred spring, +Where heav'nly music makes the arches ring, +Where virtue reigns unsully'd and divine, +Where wisdom thron'd, and all the graces shine, +There sits thy spouse amidst the radiant throng, +While praise eternal warbles from her tongue; +There choirs angelic shout her welcome round, +With perfect bliss, and peerless glory crown'd. + While thy dear mate, to flesh no more confin'd, +Exults a blest, an heav n-ascended mind, +Say in thy breast shall floods of sorrow rise? +Say shall its torrents overwhelm thine eyes? +Amid the seats of heav'n a place is free, +And angels open their bright ranks for thee; +For thee they wait, and with expectant eye +Thy spouse leans downward from th' empyreal sky: +"O come away," her longing spirit cries, +"And share with me the raptures of the skies. +"Our bliss divine to mortals is unknown; +"Immortal life and glory are our own. +"There too may the dear pledges of our love +"Arrive, and taste with us the joys above; +"Attune the harp to more than mortal lays, +"And join with us the tribute of their praise +"To him, who dy'd stern justice to stone, +"And make eternal glory all our own. +"He in his death slew ours, and, as he rose, +"He crush'd the dire dominion of our foes; +"Vain were their hopes to put the God to flight, +"Chain us to hell, and bar the gates of light." + She spoke, and turn'd from mortal scenes her eyes, +Which beam'd celestial radiance o'er the skies. + Then thou dear man, no more with grief retire, +Let grief no longer damp devotion's fire, +But rise sublime, to equal bliss aspire, +Thy sighs no more be wafted by the wind, +No more complain, but be to heav'n resign'd +'Twas thine t' unfold the oracles divine, +To sooth our woes the task was also thine; +Now sorrow is incumbent on thy heart, +Permit the muse a cordial to impart; +Who can to thee their tend'rest aid refuse? +To dry thy tears how longs the heav'nly muse! + + +An HYMN to the MORNING + +ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour'd nine, +Assist my labours, and my strains refine; +In smoothest numbers pour the notes along, +For bright Aurora now demands my song. + Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies, +Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies: +The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays, +On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays; +Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume, +Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume. + Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display +To shield your poet from the burning day: +Calliope awake the sacred lyre, +While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire: +The bow'rs, the gales, the variegated skies +In all their pleasures in my bosom rise. + See in the east th' illustrious king of day! +His rising radiance drives the shades away-- +But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong, +And scarce begun, concludes th' abortive song. + + +An HYMN to the EVENING. + +SOON as the sun forsook the eastern main +The pealing thunder shook the heav'nly plain; +Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr's wing, +Exhales the incense of the blooming spring. +Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes, +And through the air their mingled music floats. + Through all the heav'ns what beauteous dies are + spread! +But the west glories in the deepest red: +So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow, +The living temples of our God below! + Fill'd with the praise of him who gives the light, +And draws the sable curtains of the night, +Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind, +At morn to wake more heav'nly, more refin'd; +So shall the labours of the day begin +More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin. + Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes, +Then cease, my song, till fair Aurora rise. + + +ISAIAH lxiii. 1------8. + +SAY, heav'nly muse, what king or mighty God, +That moves sublime from Idumea's road? +In Bosrah's dies, with martial glories join'd, +His purple vesture waves upon the wind. +Why thus enrob'd delights he to appear +In the dread image of the Pow'r of war? + Compres'd in wrath the swelling wine-press groan'd, +It bled, and pour'd the gushing purple round. + "Mine was the act," th' Almighty Saviour said, +And shook the dazzling glories of his head, +"When all forsook I trod the press alone, +"And conquer'd by omnipotence my own; +"For man's release sustain'd the pond'rous load, +"For man the wrath of an immortal God: +"To execute th' Eternal's dread command +"My soul I sacrific'd with willing hand; +"Sinless I stood before the avenging frown, +"Atoning thus for vices not my own." + His eye the ample field of battle round +Survey'd, but no created succours found; +His own omnipotence sustain'd the right, +His vengeance sunk the haughty foes in night; +Beneath his feet the prostrate troops were spread, +And round him lay the dying, and the dead. + Great God, what light'ning flashes from thine eyes? +What pow'r withstands if thou indignant rise? + Against thy Zion though her foes may rage, +And all their cunning, all their strength engage, +Yet she serenely on thy bosom lies, +Smiles at their arts, and all their force defies. + + +On RECOLLECTION. + +MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine, +Your vent'rous Afric in her great design. +Mneme, immortal pow'r, I trace thy spring: +Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing: +The acts of long departed years, by thee +Recover'd, in due order rang'd we see: +Thy pow'r the long-forgotten calls from night, +That sweetly plays before the fancy's sight. +Mneme in our nocturnal visions pours +The ample treasure of her secret stores; +Swift from above the wings her silent flight +Through Phoebe's realms, fair regent of the night; +And, in her pomp of images display'd, +To the high-raptur'd poet gives her aid, +Through the unbounded regions of the mind, +Diffusing light celestial and refin'd. +The heav'nly phantom paints the actions done +By ev'ry tribe beneath the rolling sun. + Mneme, enthron'd within the human breast, +Has vice condemn'd, and ev'ry virtue blest. +How sweet the sound when we her plaudit hear? +Sweeter than music to the ravish'd ear, +Sweeter than Maro's entertaining strains +Resounding through the groves, and hills, and plains. +But how is Mneme dreaded by the race, +Who scorn her warnings and despise her grace? +By her unveil'd each horrid crime appears, +Her awful hand a cup of wormwood bears. +Days, years mispent, O what a hell of woe! +Hers the worst tortures that our souls can know. + Now eighteen years their destin'd course have run, +In fast succession round the central sun. +How did the follies of that period pass +Unnotic'd, but behold them writ in brass! +In Recollection see them fresh return, +And sure 'tis mine to be asham'd, and mourn. + O Virtue, smiling in immortal green, +Do thou exert thy pow'r, and change the scene; +Be thine employ to guide my future days, +And mine to pay the tribute of my praise. + Of Recollection such the pow'r enthron'd +In ev'ry breast, and thus her pow'r is own'd. +The wretch, who dar'd the vengeance of the skies, +At last awakes in horror and surprise, +By her alarm'd, he sees impending fate, +He howls in anguish, and repents too late. +But O! what peace, what joys are hers t' impart +To ev'ry holy, ev'ry upright heart! +Thrice blest the man, who, in her sacred shrine, +Feels himself shelter'd from the wrath divine! + + +On IMAGINATION. + +THY various works, imperial queen, we see, + How bright their forms! how deck'd with pomp + by thee! +Thy wond'rous acts in beauteous order stand, +And all attest how potent is thine hand. + From Helicon's refulgent heights attend, +Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend: +To tell her glories with a faithful tongue, +Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song. + Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies, +Till some lov'd object strikes her wand'ring eyes, +Whose silken fetters all the senses bind, +And soft captivity involves the mind. + Imagination! who can sing thy force? +Or who describe the swiftness of thy course? +Soaring through air to find the bright abode, +Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God, +We on thy pinions can surpass the wind, +And leave the rolling universe behind: +From star to star the mental optics rove, +Measure the skies, and range the realms above. +There in one view we grasp the mighty whole, +Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul. + Though Winter frowns to Fancy's raptur'd eyes +The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise; +The frozen deeps may break their iron bands, +And bid their waters murmur o'er the sands. +Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign, +And with her flow'ry riches deck the plain; +Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round, +And all the forest may with leaves be crown'd: +Show'rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose, +And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose. + Such is thy pow'r, nor are thine orders vain, +O thou the leader of the mental train: +In full perfection all thy works are wrought, +And thine the sceptre o'er the realms of thought. +Before thy throne the subject-passions bow, +Of subject-passions sov'reign ruler thou; +At thy command joy rushes on the heart, +And through the glowing veins the spirits dart. + Fancy might now her silken pinions try +To rise from earth, and sweep th' expanse on high: +From Tithon's bed now might Aurora rise, +Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies, +While a pure stream of light o'erflows the skies. +The monarch of the day I might behold, +And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold, +But I reluctant leave the pleasing views, +Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse; +Winter austere forbids me to aspire, +And northern tempests damp the rising fire; +They chill the tides of Fancy's flowing sea, +Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay. + + +A Funeral POEM on the Death of C. E. + an Infant of Twelve Months. + +THROUGH airy roads he wings his instant flight +To purer regions of celestial light; +Enlarg'd he sees unnumber'd systems roll, +Beneath him sees the universal whole, +Planets on planets run their destin'd round, +And circling wonders fill the vast profound. +Th' ethereal now, and now th' empyreal skies +With growing splendors strike his wond'ring eyes: +The angels view him with delight unknown, +Press his soft hand, and seat him on his throne; +Then smilling thus: "To this divine abode, +"The seat of saints, of seraphs, and of God, +"Thrice welcome thou." The raptur'd babe replies, +"Thanks to my God, who snatch'd me to the skies, +"E'er vice triumphant had possess'd my heart, +"E'er yet the tempter had beguil d my heart, +"E'er yet on sin's base actions I was bent, +"E'er yet I knew temptation's dire intent; +"E'er yet the lash for horrid crimes I felt, +"E'er vanity had led my way to guilt, +"But, soon arriv'd at my celestial goal, +"Full glories rush on my expanding soul." +Joyful he spoke: exulting cherubs round +Clapt their glad wings, the heav'nly vaults resound. + Say, parents, why this unavailing moan? +Why heave your pensive bosoms with the groan? +To Charles, the happy subject of my song, +A brighter world, and nobler strains belong. +Say would you tear him from the realms above +By thoughtless wishes, and prepost'rous love? +Doth his felicity increase your pain? +Or could you welcome to this world again +The heir of bliss? with a superior air +Methinks he answers with a smile severe, +"Thrones and dominions cannot tempt me there." + But still you cry, "Can we the sigh borbear, +"And still and still must we not pour the tear? +"Our only hope, more dear than vital breath, +"Twelve moons revolv'd, becomes the prey of death; +"Delightful infant, nightly visions give +"Thee to our arms, and we with joy receive, +"We fain would clasp the Phantom to our breast, +"The Phantom flies, and leaves the soul unblest." + To yon bright regions let your faith ascend, +Prepare to join your dearest infant friend +In pleasures without measure, without end. + + +To Captain H-----D, of the 65th Regiment. + +SAY, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight +The warrior's bosom in the fields of fight? +Lo! here the christian and the hero join +With mutual grace to form the man divine. +In H-----D see with pleasure and surprise, +Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies: +Go, hero brave, still grace the post of fame, +And add new glories to thine honour'd name, +Still to the field, and still to virtue true: +Britannia glories in no son like you. + + +To the Right Honourable WILLIAM, Earl + of DARTMOUTH, His Majesty's Principal + Secretary of State for North-America, &c. + +HAIL, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, +Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn: +The northern clime beneath her genial ray, +Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: +Elate with hope her race no longer mourns, +Each soul expands, each grateful bosom burns, +While in thine hand with pleasure we behold +The silken reins, and Freedom's charms unfold. +Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies +She shines supreme, while hated faction dies: +Soon as appear'd the Goddess long desir'd, +Sick at the view, she languish'd and expir'd; +Thus from the splendors of the morning light +The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night. + No more, America, in mournful strain +Of wrongs, and grievance unredress'd complain, +No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain, +Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand +Had made, and with it meant t' enslave the land. + Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song, +Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung, +Whence flow these wishes for the common good, +By feeling hearts alone best understood, +I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate +Was snatch'd from Afric's fancy'd happy seat: +What pangs excruciating must molest, +What sorrows labour in my parent's breast? +Steel'd was that soul and by no misery mov'd +That from a father seiz'd his babe belov'd: +Such, such my case. And can I then but pray +Others may never feel tyrannic sway? + For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due, +And thee we ask thy favours to renew, +Since in thy pow'r, as in thy will before, +To sooth the griefs, which thou did'st once deplore. +May heav'nly grace the sacred sanction give +To all thy works, and thou for ever live +Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame, +Though praise immortal crowns the patriot's name, +But to conduct to heav'ns refulgent fane, +May fiery coursers sweep th' ethereal plain, +And bear thee upwards to that blest abode, +Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God. + + +O D E T O N E P T U N E. + +On Mrs. W-----'s Voyage to England. + + I. +WHILE raging tempests shake the shore, +While AElus' thunders round us roar, +And sweep impetuous o'er the plain +Be still, O tyrant of the main; +Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray, +While my Susanna skims the wat'ry way. + + II. +The Pow'r propitious hears the lay, +The blue-ey'd daughters of the sea +With sweeter cadence glide along, +And Thames responsive joins the song. +Pleas'd with their notes Sol sheds benign his ray, +And double radiance decks the face of day. + + III. +To court thee to Britannia's arms + Serene the climes and mild the sky, +Her region boasts unnumber'd charms, + Thy welcome smiles in ev'ry eye. +Thy promise, Neptune keep, record my pray'r, +Not give my wishes to the empty air. + + Boston, October 12, 1772. + + +To a LADY on her coming to North-America + with her Son, for the Recovery of her + Health. + +INDULGENT muse! my grov'ling mind inspire, +And fill my bosom with celestial fire. +See from Jamaica's fervid shore she moves, +Like the fair mother of the blooming loves, +When from above the Goddess with her hand +Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land; +Thus she on Neptune's wat'ry realm reclin'd +Appear'd, and thus invites the ling'ring wind. + "Arise, ye winds, America explore, +"Waft me, ye gales, from this malignant shore; +"The Northern milder climes I long to greet, +"There hope that health will my arrival meet." +Soon as she spoke in my ideal view +The winds assented, and the vessel flew. + Madam, your spouse bereft of wife and son, +In the grove's dark recesses pours his moan; +Each branch, wide-spreading to the ambient sky, +Forgets its verdure, and submits to die. + From thence I turn, and leave the sultry plain, +And swift pursue thy passage o'er the main: +The ship arrives before the fav'ring wind, +And makes the Philadelphian port assign'd, +Thence I attend you to Bostonia's arms, +Where gen'rous friendship ev'ry bosom warms: +Thrice welcome here! may health revive again, +Bloom on thy cheek, and bound in ev'ry vein! +Then back return to gladden ev'ry heart, +And give your spouse his soul's far dearer part, +Receiv'd again with what a sweet surprise, +The tear in transport starting from his eyes! +While his attendant son with blooming grace +Springs to his father's ever dear embrace. +With shouts of joy Jamaica's rocks resound, +With shouts of joy the country rings around. + + +To a LADY on her remarkable Preservation + in an Hurricane in North-Carolina. + +THOUGH thou did'st hear the tempest from afar, +And felt'st the horrors of the wat'ry war, +To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore +Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar, +And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand +Compell'd the Nereids to usurp the land. +Reluctant rose the daughters of the main, +And slow ascending glided o'er the plain, +Till AEolus in his rapid chariot drove +In gloomy grandeur from the vault above: +Furious he comes. His winged sons obey +Their frantic sire, and madden all the sea. +The billows rave, the wind's fierce tyrant roars, +And with his thund'ring terrors shakes the shores: +Broken by waves the vessel's frame is rent, +And strows with planks the wat'ry element. + But thee, Maria, a kind Nereid's shield +Preserv'd from sinking, and thy form upheld: +And sure some heav'nly oracle design'd +At that dread crisis to instruct thy mind +Things of eternal consequence to weigh, +And to thine heart just feelings to convey +Of things above, and of the future doom, +And what the births of the dread world to come. + From tossing seas I welcome thee to land. +"Resign her, Nereid," 'twas thy God's command. +Thy spouse late buried, as thy fears conceiv'd, +Again returns, thy fears are all reliev'd: +Thy daughter blooming with superior grace +Again thou see'st, again thine arms embrace; +O come, and joyful show thy spouse his heir, +And what the blessings of maternal care! + + +To a LADY and her Children, on the Death + of her Son and their Brother. + +O'ERWHELMING sorrow now demands my song: +From death the overwhelming sorrow sprung. +What flowing tears? What hearts with grief opprest? +What sighs on sighs heave the fond parent's breast? +The brother weeps, the hapless sisters join +Th' increasing woe, and swell the crystal brine; +The poor, who once his gen'rous bounty fed, +Droop, and bewail their benefactor dead. +In death the friend, the kind companion lies, +And in one death what various comfort dies! + Th' unhappy mother sees the sanguine rill +Forget to flow, and nature's wheels stand still, +But see from earth his spirit far remov'd, +And know no grief recals your best-belov'd: +He, upon pinions swifter than the wind, +Has left mortality's sad scenes behind +For joys to this terrestial state unknown, +And glories richer than the monarch's crown. +Of virtue's steady course the prize behold! +What blissful wonders to his mind unfold! +But of celestial joys I sing in vain: +Attempt not, muse, the too advent'rous strain. + No more in briny show'rs, ye friends around, +Or bathe his clay, or waste them on the ground: +Still do you weep, still wish for his return? +How cruel thus to wish, and thus to mourn? +No more for him the streams of sorrow pour, +But haste to join him on the heav'nly shore, +On harps of gold to tune immortal lays, +And to your God immortal anthems raise. + + +To a GENTLEMAN and LADY on the Death + of the Lady's Brother and Sister, and a + Child of the Name of Avis, aged one Year. + +ON Death's domain intent I fix my eyes, +Where human nature in vast ruin lies: +With pensive mind I search the drear abode, +Where the great conqu'ror has his spoils bestow'd; +There there the offspring of six thousand years +In endless numbers to my view appears: +Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are thrust, +And nations mix with their primeval dust: +Insatiate still he gluts the ample tomb; +His is the present, his the age to come. +See here a brother, here a sister spread, +And a sweet daughter mingled with the dead. + But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside, +And let the fountain of your tears be dry'd, +In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain, +Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain, +Your pains they witness, but they can no more, +While Death reigns tyrant o'er this mortal shore. + The glowing stars and silver queen of light +At last must perish in the gloom of night: +Resign thy friends to that Almighty hand, +Which gave them life, and bow to his command; +Thine Avis give without a murm'ring heart, +Though half thy soul be fated to depart. +To shining guards consign thine infant care +To waft triumphant through the seas of air: +Her soul enlarg'd to heav'nly pleasure springs, +She feeds on truth and uncreated things. +Methinks I hear her in the realms above, +And leaning forward with a filial love, +Invite you there to share immortal bliss +Unknown, untasted in a state like this. +With tow'ring hopes, and growing grace arise, +And seek beatitude beyond the skies. + + +On the Death of Dr. SAMUEL MARSHALL. + 1771. + +THROUGH thickest glooms look back, immortal + shade, +On that confusion which thy death has made: +Or from Olympus' height look down, and see +A Town involv'd in grief bereft of thee. +Thy Lucy sees thee mingle with the dead, +And rends the graceful tresses from her head, +Wild in her woe, with grief unknown opprest +Sigh follows sigh deep heaving from her breast. + Too quickly fled, ah! whither art thou gone? +Ah! lost for ever to thy wife and son! +The hapless child, thine only hope and heir, +Clings round his mother's neck, and weeps his sorrows + there. +The loss of thee on Tyler's soul returns, +And Boston for her dear physician mourns. + When sickness call'd for Marshall's healing hand, +With what compassion did his soul expand? +In him we found the father and the friend: +In life how lov'd! how honour'd in his end! + And must not then our AEsculapius stay +To bring his ling'ring infant into day? +The babe unborn in the dark womb is tost, +And seems in anguish for its father lost. + Gone is Apollo from his house of earth, +But leaves the sweet memorials of his worth: +The common parent, whom we all deplore, +From yonder world unseen must come no more, +Yet 'midst our woes immortal hopes attend +The spouse, the sire, the universal friend. + + +To a GENTLEMAN on his Voyage to Great- + Britain for the Recovery of his Health. + +WHILE others chant of gay Elysian scenes, +Of balmy zephyrs, and of flow'ry plains, +My song more happy speaks a greater name, +Feels higher motives and a nobler flame. +For thee, O R-----, the muse attunes her strings, +And mounts sublime above inferior things. + I sing not now of green embow'ring woods, +I sing not now the daughters of the floods, +I sing not of the storms o'er ocean driv'n, +And how they howl'd along the waste of heav'n. +But I to R----- would paint the British shore, +And vast Atlantic, not untry'd before: +Thy life impair'd commands thee to arise, +Leave these bleak regions and inclement skies, +Where chilling winds return the winter past, +And nature shudders at the furious blast. + O thou stupendous, earth-enclosing main +Exert thy wonders to the world again! +If ere thy pow'r prolong'd the fleeting breath, +Turn'd back the shafts, and mock'd the gates of death, +If ere thine air dispens'd an healing pow'r, +Or snatch'd the victim from the fatal hour, +This equal case demands thine equal care, +And equal wonders may this patient share. +But unavailing, frantic is the dream +To hope thine aid without the aid of him +Who gave thee birth and taught thee where to flow, +And in thy waves his various blessings show. + May R----- return to view his native shore +Replete with vigour not his own before, +Then shall we see with pleasure and surprise, +And own thy work, great Ruler of the skies! + + +To the Rev. DR. THOMAS AMORY, on + reading his Sermons on DAILY DEVOTION, + in which that Duty is recommended and + assisted. + +TO cultivate in ev'ry noble mind +Habitual grace, and sentiments refin'd, +Thus while you strive to mend the human heart, +Thus while the heav'nly precepts you impart, +O may each bosom catch the sacred fire, +And youthful minds to Virtue's throne aspire! + When God's eternal ways you set in sight, +And Virtue shines in all her native light, +In vain would Vice her works in night conceal, +For Wisdom's eye pervades the sable veil. + Artists may paint the sun's effulgent rays, +But Amory's pen the brighter God displays: +While his great works in Amory's pages shine, +And while he proves his essence all divine, +The Atheist sure no more can boast aloud +Of chance, or nature, and exclude the God; +As if the clay without the potter's aid +Should rise in various forms, and shapes self-made, +Or worlds above with orb o'er orb profound +Self-mov'd could run the everlasting round. +It cannot be--unerring Wisdom guides +With eye propitious, and o'er all presides. + Still prosper, Amory! still may'st thou receive +The warmest blessings which a muse can give, +And when this transitory state is o'er, +When kingdoms fall, and fleeting Fame's no more, +May Amory triumph in immortal fame, +A nobler title, and superior name! + + +On the Death of J. C. an Infant. + +NO more the flow'ry scenes of pleasure rife, +Nor charming prospects greet the mental eyes, +No more with joy we view that lovely face +Smiling, disportive, flush'd with ev'ry grace. + The tear of sorrow flows from ev'ry eye, +Groans answer groans, and sighs to sighs reply; +What sudden pangs shot thro' each aching heart, +When, Death, thy messenger dispatch'd his dart? +Thy dread attendants, all-destroying Pow'r, +Hurried the infant to his mortal hour. +Could'st thou unpitying close those radiant eyes? +Or fail'd his artless beauties to surprise? +Could not his innocence thy stroke controul, +Thy purpose shake, and soften all thy soul? + The blooming babe, with shades of Death o'er- + spread, +No more shall smile, no more shall raise its head, +But, like a branch that from the tree is torn, +Falls prostrate, wither'd, languid, and forlorn. +"Where flies my James?" 'tis thus I seem to hear +The parent ask, "Some angel tell me where +"He wings his passage thro' the yielding air?" +Methinks a cherub bending from the skies +Observes the question, and serene replies, +"In heav'ns high palaces your babe appears: +"Prepare to meet him, and dismiss your tears." +Shall not th' intelligence your grief restrain, +And turn the mournful to the cheerful strain? +Cease your complaints, suspend each rising sigh, +Cease to accuse the Ruler of the sky. +Parents, no more indulge the falling tear: +Let Faith to heav'n's refulgent domes repair, +There see your infant, like a seraph glow: +What charms celestial in his numbers flow +Melodious, while the foul-enchanting strain +Dwells on his tongue, and fills th' ethereal plain? +Enough--for ever cease your murm'ring breath; +Not as a foe, but friend converse with Death, +Since to the port of happiness unknown +He brought that treasure which you call your own. +The gift of heav'n intrusted to your hand +Cheerful resign at the divine command: +Not at your bar must sov'reign Wisdom stand. + + +An H Y M N to H U M A N I T Y. + To S. P. G. Esq; + + I. +LO! for this dark terrestrial ball +Forsakes his azure-paved hall + A prince of heav'nly birth! +Divine Humanity behold, +What wonders rise, what charms unfold + At his descent to earth! + + II. +The bosoms of the great and good +With wonder and delight he view'd, + And fix'd his empire there: +Him, close compressing to his breast, +The sire of gods and men address'd, + "My son, my heav'nly fair! + + III. +"Descend to earth, there place thy throne; +"To succour man's afflicted son + "Each human heart inspire: +"To act in bounties unconfin'd +"Enlarge the close contracted mind, + "And fill it with thy fire." + + IV. +Quick as the word, with swift career +He wings his course from star to star, + And leaves the bright abode. +The Virtue did his charms impart; +Their G-----! then thy raptur'd heart + Perceiv'd the rushing God: + + V. +For when thy pitying eye did see +The languid muse in low degree, + Then, then at thy desire +Descended the celestial nine; +O'er me methought they deign'd to shine, + And deign'd to string my lyre. + + VI. +Can Afric's muse forgetful prove? +Or can such friendship fail to move + A tender human heart? +Immortal Friendship laurel-crown'd +The smiling Graces all surround + With ev'ry heav'nly Art. + + +To the Honourable T. H. Esq; on the Death + of his Daughter. + +WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade +The hand of Death, and your dear daughter + laid +In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow, +And racks your bosom with incessant woe, +Let Recollection take a tender part, +Assuage the raging tortures of your heart, +Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief, +And pour the heav'nly nectar of relief: +Suspend the sigh, dear Sir, and check the groan, +Divinely bright your daughter's Virtues shone: +How free from scornful pride her gentle mind, +Which ne'er its aid to indigence declin'd! +Expanding free, it sought the means to prove +Unfailing charity, unbounded love! + She unreluctant flies to see no more +Her dear-lov'd parents on earth's dusky shore: +Impatient heav'n's resplendent goal to gain, +She with swift progress cuts the azure plain, +Where grief subsides, where changes are no more, +And life's tumultuous billows cease to roar; +She leaves her earthly mansion for the skies, +Where new creations feast her wond'ring eyes. + To heav'n's high mandate cheerfully resign'd +She mounts, and leaves the rolling globe behind; +She, who late wish'd that Leonard might return, +Has ceas'd to languish, and forgot to mourn; +To the same high empyreal mansions come, +She joins her spouse, and smiles upon the tomb: +And thus I hear her from the realms above: +"Lo! this the kingdom of celestial love! +"Could ye, fond parents, see our present bliss, +"How soon would you each sigh, each fear dismiss? +"Amidst unutter'd pleasures whilst I play +"In the fair sunshine of celestial day, +"As far as grief affects an happy soul +"So far doth grief my better mind controul, +"To see on earth my aged parents mourn, +"And secret wish for T-----! to return: +"Let brighter scenes your ev'ning-hours employ: +"Converse with heav'n, and taste the promis'd joy" + + +NIOBE in Distress for her Children slain by + APOLLO, from Ovid's Metamorphoses, + Bood VI. and from a view of the Painting + of Mr. Richard Wilson. + +APOLLO's wrath to man the dreadful spring +Of ills innum'rous, tuneful goddess, sing! +Thou who did'st first th' ideal pencil give, +And taught'st the painter in his works to live, +Inspire with glowing energy of thought, +What Wilson painted, and what Ovid wrote. +Muse! lend thy aid, nor let me sue in vain, +Tho' last and meanest of the rhyming train! +O guide my pen in lofty strains to show +The Phrygian queen, all beautiful in woe. + 'Twas where Maeonia spreads her wide domain +Niobe dwelt, and held her potent reign: +See in her hand the regal sceptre shine, +The wealthy heir of Tantalus divine, +He most distinguish'd by Dodonean Jove, +To approach the tables of the gods above: +Her grandsire Atlas, who with mighty pains +Th' ethereal axis on his neck sustains: +Her other grandsire on the throne on high +Rolls the loud-pealing thunder thro' the sky. + Her spouse, Amphion, who from Jove too springs, +Divinely taught to sweep the sounding strings. + Seven sprightly sons the royal bed adorn, +Seven daughters beauteous as the op'ning morn, +As when Aurora fills the ravish'd sight, +And decks the orient realms with rosy light +From their bright eyes the living splendors play, +Nor can beholders bear the flashing ray. + Wherever, Niobe, thou turn'st thine eyes, +New beauties kindle, and new joys arise! +But thou had'st far the happier mother prov'd, +If this fair offspring had been less belov'd: +What if their charms exceed Aurora's teint. +No words could tell them, and no pencil paint, +Thy love too vehement hastens to destroy +Each blooming maid, and each celestial boy. + Now Manto comes, endu'd with mighty skill, +The past to explore, the future to reveal. +Thro' Thebes' wide streets Tiresia's daughter came, +Divine Latona's mandate to proclaim: +The Theban maids to hear the orders ran, +When thus Maeonia's prophetess began: + "Go, Thebans! great Latona's will obey, +"And pious tribute at her altars pay: +"With rights divine, the goddess be implor'd, +"Nor be her sacred offspring unador'd." +Thus Manto spoke. The Theban maids obey, +And pious tribute to the goddess pay. +The rich perfumes ascend in waving spires, +And altars blaze with consecrated fires; +The fair assembly moves with graceful air, +And leaves of laurel bind the flowing hair. + Niobe comes with all her royal race, +With charms unnumber'd, and superior grace: +Her Phrygian garments of delightful hue, +Inwove with gold, refulgent to the view, +Beyond description beautiful she moves +Like heav'nly Venus, 'midst her smiles and loves: +She views around the supplicating train, +And shakes her graceful head with stern disdain, +Proudly she turns around her lofty eyes, +And thus reviles celestial deities: +"What madness drives the Theban ladies fair +"To give their incense to surrounding air? +"Say why this new sprung deity preferr'd? +"Why vainly fancy your petitions heard? +"Or say why Caeus offspring is obey'd, +"While to my goddesship no tribute's paid? +"For me no altars blaze with living fires, +"No bullock bleeds, no frankincense transpires, +"Tho' Cadmus' palace, not unknown to fame, +"And Phrygian nations all revere my name. +"Where'er I turn my eyes vast wealth I find, +"Lo! here an empress with a goddess join'd. +"What, shall a Titaness be deify'd, +"To whom the spacious earth a couch deny'd! +"Nor heav'n, nor earth, nor sea receiv'd your queen, +"Till pitying Delos took the wand'rer in. +"Round me what a large progeny is spread! +"No frowns of fortune has my soul to dread. +"What if indignant she decrease my train +"More than Latona's number will remain; +"Then hence, ye Theban dames, hence haste away, +"Nor longer off'rings to Latona pay; +"Regard the orders of Amphion's spouse, +"And take the leaves of laurel from your brows." +Niobe spoke. The Theban maids obey'd, +Their brows unbound, and left the rights unpaid. + The angry goddess heard, then silence broke +On Cynthus' summit, and indignant spoke; +"Phoebus! behold, thy mother in disgrace, +"Who to no goddess yields the prior place +"Except to Juno's self, who reigns above, +"The spouse and sister of the thund'ring Jove. +"Niobe, sprung from Tantalus, inspires +"Each Theban bosom with rebellious fires; +"No reason her imperious temper quells, +"But all her father in her tongue rebels; +"Wrap her own sons for her blaspheming breath, +"Apollo! wrap them in the shades of death." +Latona ceas'd, and ardent thus replies +The God, whose glory decks th' expanded skies. + "Cease thy complaints, mine be the task assign'd +"To punish pride, and scourge the rebel mind." +This Phoebe join'd.--They wing their instant flight; +Thebes trembled as th' immortal pow'rs alight. + With clouds incompass'd glorious Phoebus stands; +The feather'd vengeance quiv'ring in his hands. + Near Cadmus' walls a plain extended lay, +Where Thebes' young princes pass'd in sport the day: +There the bold coursers bounded o'er the plains, +While their great masters held the golden reins. +Ismenus first the racing pastime led, +And rul'd the fury of his flying steed. +"Ah me," he sudden cries, with shrieking breath, +While in his breast he feels the shaft of death; +He drops the bridle on his courser's mane, +Before his eyes in shadows swims the plain, +He, the first-born of great Amphion's bed, +Was struck the first, first mingled with the dead. + Then didst thou, Sipylus, the language hear +Of fate portentous whistling in the air: +As when th' impending storm the sailor sees +He spreads his canvas to the fav'ring breeze, +So to thine horse thou gav'st the golden reins, +Gav'st him to rush impetuous o'er the plains: +But ah! a fatal shaft from Phoebus' hand +Smites thro' thy neck, and sinks thee on the sand. + Two other brothers were at wrestling found, +And in their pastime claspt each other round: +A shaft that instant from Apollo's hand +Transfixt them both, and stretcht them on the sand: +Together they their cruel fate bemoan'd, +Together languish'd, and together groan'd: +Together too th' unbodied spirits fled, +And sought the gloomy mansions of the dead. +Alphenor saw, and trembling at the view, +Beat his torn breast, that chang'd its snowy hue. +He flies to raise them in a kind embrace; +A brother's fondness triumphs in his face: +Alphenor fails in this fraternal deed, +A dart dispatch'd him (so the fates decreed:) +Soon as the arrow left the deadly wound, +His issuing entrails smoak'd upon the ground. + What woes on blooming Damasichon wait! +His sighs portend his near impending fate. +Just where the well-made leg begins to be, +And the soft sinews form the supple knee, +The youth sore wounded by the Delian god +Attempts t' extract the crime-avenging rod, +But, whilst he strives the will of fate t' avert, +Divine Apollo sends a second dart; +Swift thro' his throat the feather'd mischief flies, +Bereft of sense, he drops his head, and dies. + Young Ilioneus, the last, directs his pray'r, +And cries, "My life, ye gods celestial! spare." +Apollo heard, and pity touch'd his heart, +But ah! too late, for he had sent the dart: +Thou too, O Ilioneus, art doom'd to fall, +The fates refuse that arrow to recal. + On the swift wings of ever flying Fame +To Cadmus' palace soon the tidings came: +Niobe heard, and with indignant eyes +She thus express'd her anger and surprise: +"Why is such privilege to them allow'd? +"Why thus insulted by the Delian god? +"Dwells there such mischief in the pow'rs above? +"Why sleeps the vengeance of immortal Jove?" +For now Amphion too, with grief oppress'd, +Had plung'd the deadly dagger in his breast. +Niobe now, less haughty than before, +With lofty head directs her steps no more +She, who late told her pedigree divine, +And drove the Thebans from Latona's shrine, +How strangely chang'd!--yet beautiful in woe, +She weeps, nor weeps unpity'd by the foe. +On each pale corse the wretched mother spread +Lay overwhelm'd with grief, and kiss'd her dead, +Then rais'd her arms, and thus, in accents slow, +"Be sated cruel Goddess! with my woe; +"If I've offended, let these streaming eyes, +"And let this sev'nfold funeral suffice: +"Ah! take this wretched life you deign'd to save, +"With them I too am carried to the grave. +"Rejoice triumphant, my victorious foe, +"But show the cause from whence your triumphs flow? +"Tho' I unhappy mourn these children slain, +"Yet greater numbers to my lot remain." +She ceas'd, the bow string twang'd with awful sound, +Which struck with terror all th' assembly round, +Except the queen, who stood unmov'd alone, +By her distresses more presumptuous grown. +Near the pale corses stood their sisters fair +In sable vestures and dishevell'd hair; +One, while she draws the fatal shaft away, +Faints, falls, and sickens at the light of day. +To sooth her mother, lo! another flies, +And blames the fury of inclement skies, +And, while her words a filial pity show, +Struck dumb--indignant seeks the shades below. +Now from the fatal place another flies, +Falls in her flight, and languishes, and dies. +Another on her sister drops in death; +A fifth in trembling terrors yields her breath; +While the sixth seeks some gloomy cave in vain, +Struck with the rest, and mingled with the slain. + One only daughter lives, and she the least; +The queen close clasp'd the daughter to her breast: +"Ye heav'nly pow'rs, ah spare me one," she cry'd, +"Ah! spare me one," the vocal hills reply'd: +In vain she begs, the Fates her suit deny, +In her embrace she sees her daughter die. + * "The queen of all her family bereft, +"Without or husband, son, or daughter left, +"Grew stupid at the shock. The passing air +"Made no impression on her stiff'ning hair. + +* This Verse to the End is the Work of another Hand. + +"The blood forsook her face: amidst the flood +"Pour'd from her cheeks, quite fix'd her eye-balls + "stood. +"Her tongue, her palate both obdurate grew, +"Her curdled veins no longer motion knew; +"The use of neck, and arms, and feet was gone, +"And ev'n her bowels hard'ned into stone: +"A marble statue now the queen appears, +"But from the marble steal the silent tears." + + +To S. M. a young African Painter, on seeing + his Works. + +TO show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent, +And thought in living characters to paint, +When first thy pencil did those beauties give, +And breathing figures learnt from thee to live, +How did those prospects give my soul delight, +A new creation rushing on my sight? +Still, wond'rous youth! each noble path pursue, +On deathless glories fix thine ardent view: +Still may the painter's and the poet's fire +To aid thy pencil, and thy verse conspire! +And may the charms of each seraphic theme +Conduct thy footsteps to immortal fame! +High to the blissful wonders of the skies +Elate thy soul, and raise thy wishful eyes. +Thrice happy, when exalted to survey +That splendid city, crown'd with endless day, +Whose twice six gates on radiant hinges ring: +Celestial Salem blooms in endless spring. + Calm and serene thy moments glide along, +And may the muse inspire each future song! +Still, with the sweets of contemplation bless'd, +May peace with balmy wings your soul invest! +But when these shades of time are chas'd away, +And darkness ends in everlasting day, +On what seraphic pinions shall we move, +And view the landscapes in the realms above? +There shall thy tongue in heav'nly murmurs flow, +And there my muse with heav'nly transport glow: +No more to tell of Damon's tender sighs, +Or rising radiance of Aurora's eyes, +For nobler themes demand a nobler strain, +And purer language on th' ethereal plain. +Cease, gentle muse! the solemn gloom of night +Now seals the fair creation from my sight. + + +To his Honour the Lieutenant-Governor, on + the Death of his Lady. March 24, 1773. + +ALL-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r, +Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more! +Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly, +Forget their splendors, and submit to die! +Who ere escap'd thee, but the saint * of old +Beyond the flood in sacred annals told, +And the great sage, + whom fiery coursers drew +To heav'n's bright portals from Elisha's view; +Wond'ring he gaz'd at the refulgent car, +Then snatch'd the mantle floating on the air. +From Death these only could exemption boast, +And without dying gain'd th' immortal coast. +Not falling millions sate the tyrant's mind, +Nor can the victor's progress be confin'd. +But cease thy strife with Death, fond Nature, cease: +He leads the virtuous to the realms of peace; + + * Enoch. + Elijah. + +His to conduct to the immortal plains, +Where heav'n's Supreme in bliss and glory reigns. + There sits, illustrious Sir, thy beauteous spouse; +A gem-blaz'd circle beaming on her brows. +Hail'd with acclaim among the heav'nly choirs, +Her soul new-kindling with seraphic fires, +To notes divine she tunes the vocal strings, +While heav'n's high concave with the music rings. +Virtue's rewards can mortal pencil paint? +No--all descriptive arts, and eloquence are faint; +Nor canst thou, Oliver, assent refuse +To heav'nly tidings from the Afric muse. + As soon may change thy laws, eternal fate, +As the saint miss the glories I relate; +Or her Benevolence forgotten lie, +Which wip'd the trick'ling tear from Misry's eye. +Whene'er the adverse winds were known to blow, +When loss to loss * ensu'd, and woe to woe, +Calm and serene beneath her father's hand +She sat resign'd to the divine command. + No longer then, great Sir, her death deplore, +And let us hear the mournful sigh no more, +Restrain the sorrow streaming from thine eye, +Be all thy future moments crown'd with joy! +Nor let thy wishes be to earth confin'd, +But soaring high pursue th' unbodied mind. +Forgive the muse, forgive th' advent'rous lays, +That fain thy soul to heav'nly scenes would raise. + + +A Farewel to AMERICA. To Mrs. S. W. + + I. +ADIEU, New-England's smiling meads, + Adieu, the flow'ry plain: +I leave thine op'ning charms, O spring, + And tempt the roaring main. + + II. +In vain for me the flow'rets rise, + And boast their gaudy pride, +While here beneath the northern skies + I mourn for health deny'd. + + III. +Celestial maid of rosy hue, + O let me feel thy reign! +I languish till thy face I view, + Thy vanish'd joys regain. + + IV. +Susanna mourns, nor can I bear + To see the crystal show'r, +Or mark the tender falling tear + At sad departure's hour; + + V. +Not unregarding can I see + Her soul with grief opprest: +But let no sighs, no groans for me, + Steal from her pensive breast. + + VI. +In vain the feather'd warblers sing, + In vain the garden blooms, +And on the bosom of the spring + Breathes out her sweet perfumes. + + VII. +While for Britannia's distant shore + We sweep the liquid plain, +And with astonish'd eyes explore + The wide-extended main. + + VIII. +Lo! Health appears! celestial dame! + Complacent and serene, +With Hebe's mantle o'er her Frame, + With soul-delighting mein. + + IX. +To mark the vale where London lies + With misty vapours crown'd, +Which cloud Aurora's thousand dyes, + And veil her charms around. + + X. +Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow? + So slow thy rising ray? +Give us the famous town to view, + Thou glorious king of day! + + + XI. +For thee, Britannia, I resign + New-England's smiling fields; +To view again her charms divine, + What joy the prospect yields! + + XII. +But thou! Temptation hence away, + With all thy fatal train, +Nor once seduce my soul away, + By thine enchanting strain. + + XIII. +Thrice happy they, whose heav'nly shield + Secures their souls from harms, +And fell Temptation on the field + Of all its pow'r disarms! + + Boston, May 7, 1773. + + +A REBUS, by I. B. + + I. +A BIRD delicious to the taste, +On which an army once did feast, + Sent by an hand unseen; +A creature of the horned race, +Which Britain's royal standards grace; + A gem of vivid green; + + II. +A town of gaiety and sport, +Where beaux and beauteous nymphs resort, + And gallantry doth reign; +A Dardan hero fam'd of old +For youth and beauty, as we're told, + And by a monarch slain; + + III. +A peer of popular applause, +Who doth our violated laws, + And grievances proclaim. +Th' initials show a vanquish'd town, +That adds fresh glory and renown + To old Britannia's fame. + + +An ANSWER to the Rebus, by the Author of + these POEMS. + +THE poet asks, and Phillis can't refuse +To show th' obedience of the Infant muse. +She knows the Quail of most inviting taste +Fed Israel's army in the dreary waste; +And what's on Britain's royal standard borne, +But the tall, graceful, rampant Unicorn? +The Emerald with a vivid verdure glows +Among the gems which regal crowns compose; +Boston's a town, polite and debonair, +To which the beaux and beauteous nymphs repair, +Each Helen strikes the mind with sweet surprise, +While living lightning flashes from her eyes, +See young Euphorbus of the Dardan line +By Manelaus' hand to death resign: +The well known peer of popular applause +Is C----m zealous to support our laws. +Quebec now vanquish'd must obey, +She too much annual tribute pay +To Britain of immortal fame. +And add new glory to her name. + + + +F I N I S. + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Poems, by Phillis Wheatley + |