Or who shall heal his wounded mind, If tortur'd by misfortune's smart? Who Hymeneal bliss will never prove, But soon emerging in her radiant might She o'er the sorrow-clouded breast of Care That more than friendship, friendship Sails, like a meteor kindling in its flight. mix'd with love. 1788. II ANTHEM FOR THE CHILDREN OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL SERAPHS around th' Eternal's seat who throng With tuneful ecstasies of praise : O! teach our feeble tongues like yours the song Of fervent gratitude to raise― Like you, inspired with holy flame To dwell on that Almighty name Who bade the child of woe no longer sigh, And Joy in tears o'erspread the widow's eye. Th' all-gracious Parent hears the wretch's prayer; The meek tear strongly pleads on high; Wan Resignation struggling with despair The Lord beholds with pitying eye; Sees cheerless Want unpitied pine, Disease on earth its head recline, And bids Compassion seek the realms of woe To heal the wounded, and to raise the low. She comes! she comes! the meekeyed power I see With liberal hand that loves to bless; The clouds of sorrow at her presence flee; Rejoice! rejoice! ye children of distress! The beams that play around her head Thro' Want's dark vale their radiance spread : Now hid behind the dragon-winged The young uncultured mind imbibes the The strange misfortunes, oh! what words can tell? Tell! ye neglected sylphs! who lap-dogs guard, Why snatch'd ye not away your precious ward? Why suffer'd ye the lover's weight to fall On the ill-fated neck of much-loved Ball? The favourite on his mistress casts his eyes, Gives a short melancholy howl, anddies. Sacred his ashes lie, and long his rest! Anger and grief divide poor Julia's breast. Her eyes she fixt on guilty Florio first: On him the storm of angry grief must burst. The storm he fled: he wooes a kinder fair, Whose fond affections no dear puppies share. 'Twere vain to tell, how Julia pin'd away : Unhappy Fair! that in one luckless day From future Almanacks the day be crost!At once her Lover and her Lap-dog lost. 1789. QUÆ NOCENT DOCENT O! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos ! And touch'd the fair one with an equal OH! might my ill-past hours return flame. The flame she felt, and ill could she con ceal What every look and action would reveal. With boldness then, which seldom fails to move, He pleads the cause of Marriage and of Love: The course of Hymeneal joys he rounds, The fair one's eyes danc'd pleasure at the sounds. Nought now remain'd but Noes'-how little meant ! And the sweet coyness that endears con sent. The youth upon his knees enraptur'd fell: again! No more, as then, should Sloth around me throw Her soul-enslaving, leaden chain! No more the precious time would I employ In giddy revells, or in thoughtless joy, But o'er the midnight Lamp I'd love to pore, I'd seek with care fair Learning's depths to sound, And gather scientific Lore: Or to mature the embryo thoughts inclin'd, Light of this once all darksome spot run, First-born of Sirius begot Upon the focus of the sunI'll call thee name - for such thy earthly THO' no bold flights to thee belong; And tho' thy lays with conscious fear, Shrink from Judgement's eye severe, | Yet much I thank thee, Spirit of my song! What name so high, but what too low For, lovely Muse! thy sweet employ must be? Comets, when most they drink the solar flame Are but faint types and images of thee! Burn madly, Fire! o'er earth in ravage run, Then blush for shame more red by fiercer outdone! Exalts my soul, refines my breast, the shade, Where peaceful Virtue weaves the Myrtle May this (I cried) my course through Life braid. 30 And O! if Eyes whose holy glances roll, Swift messengers, and eloquent of soul; 1 Lee Boo, the son of Abba Thule, Prince of the Pelew Islands, came over to England with Captain Wilson, died of the small-pox, and is buried in Greenwich church-yard. See Keate's Account of the Pelew Islands. 1788. 2 Southey's Retrospect. portray ! [display, New scenes of wisdom may each step And knowledge open as my days advance! Till what time Death shall pour the undarken'd ray, My eye shall dart thro' infinite expanse, And thought suspended lie in rapture's blissful trance, 1789. |