The Poems of Savage - The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia (2024)

From The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia

The Poems of Savage is a collection of poems by Richard Savage.

THEPOEMSO FSAV A GE.a 2

267877KW267 B27THE 2007 H₂WORKSOF THEENGLISH POETS.WITHPREFACES,BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL,BY SAMUEL JOHNSON.VOLUME THE FORTY - FIFTH.LONDON:PRINTED BY H. GOLDNEY;FOR C. BATHURST, J. BUCKLAND, W. STRAHAN, J. RIVINGTON AND SONS, T. DAVIES, T. PAYNE, L. DAVIS, W.OWEN,B. WHITE, S. CROWDER, T. CASLON, T. LONGMAN,B. LAW, E. AND C. DILLY, J. DODSLEY, H. BALDWIN ,J. WILKIE, J. ROBSON, J. JOHNSON, T. LOWNDES,T. BECKET, G. ROBINSON, T.CADELL, W.DAVIS,J. NICHOLS, F. NEWBERY, T. EVANS, J. RID- LEY, R. BALDWIN, G. NICOL, LEIGH ANDSOTHEBY, J. BEW, N. CONANT,J. MURRAY, W. FOX, J. BOWEN.M DCC LXXIX.KoninklijkeBibliotheckte'sKlage.THEWANDERER:A VISI O N.IN FIVE CANTO S." Nulla mali nova mî facies inopinave furgit. "VIRG.Bfo[ 3 ]To the RIGHT HONOURABLEJ O H NLORD VISCOUNT TYRCONNEL,Baron CHARLEVILLE, and Lord BROWNLOWE,Knight of the BATH..MY LORD,PART of this poem had the honour ofyour Lord- fhip's perufal when in manufcript; and it was nofmall pride to me, when it met with approbation fromfo diftinguishing a judge: fhould the reft find the likeindulgence, I fhall have no occafion ( whatever its fuccefs may be in the world) to repent the labour it has coft me--But my intention is not to purfue a difcourfeon my own performance;, no, my Lord, it is to embrace this opportunity of throwing out fentiments thatrelate to your Lordship's goodness, the generofity ofwhich, give me leave to fay, I have greatly experienced.I offer it not as a new remark, that dependance onthe Great, in former times, generally terminated in B. 2dif-4 DEDICATION АТ .diſappointment; nay, even their bounty (if it couldbe called fuch) was, in its very nature, ungenerous.It was, perhaps, with- held, through an indolent orwilful neglect, till thoſe, who lingered in the want ofit, grew almoſt paſt the ſenſe of comfort. At length.it came, too often, in a manner that half canceled theobligation, and, perchance, muft have been acquiredtoo by fome previous act of guilt in the receiver, theconfequence of which was remorfe and infamy.ToBut that I live, my Lord, is a proof that dependanceon your Lordſhip, and the preſent Miniſtry, is an af- furance of fuccefs. I am perfuaded, diſtreſs, in manyother instances, affects your foul with a compaffion,that always fhews itſelf in a manner moſt humane andactive; that to forgive injuries, and confer benefits,is your delight; and that to deferve your friendſhip is to deferve the countenance of the beft of men.be admitted into the honour of your Lordship's converfation (permit me to ſpeak but juſtice) is to be elegantly introduced into the moſt inftructive, as well asentertaining, parts of literature; it is to be furniſhedwith the finest obfervations upon human nature, andto receive, from the moſt unaffuming, ſweet, and winning candour, the worthieſt and moſt polite maxims→→fuch as are always enforced by the actions of yourown life. I could alfo take notice of your many public-fpirited fervices to your country in Parliament,and your conftant attachment to Liberty, and theRoyal, Illuftrious Houfe of our Moft Gracious Sovereign; but, my Lord, believe me, your own deeds areDEDICATION. 5are the nobleft and fittest orators to ſpeak your praiſe,and will elevate it far beyond the power of a muchabler writer than I am.I will therefore turn my view from your Lordship'svirtues to the kind influence of them, which has beenfo lately ſhed upon me; and then , if my future morals and writings fhall gain any approbation from menofparts and probity, I muſt acknowledge all to be theproduct of your Lordship's goodneſs to me. I muſt,in fine, fay with Horace,"Quod fpiro, & placeo, (fi placeo) tuum eſt.I am, with the higheſt gratitude and veneration,MY LORD,Your Lordship's moſt dutifuland devoted ſervant,RICHARD SAVAGE.

[ 7 ]THEW ANDERE R.A VISI O N.FACANTO IAIN would my verfe, Tyrconnel, boaſt thy name,Brownlowe, at once my ſubject and my fame!Oh! could that fpirit, which thy bofom warms,Whofe ftrength ſurprizes, and whoſe goodneſs charms!That various worth! could that inſpire my lays, 5Envy ſhould ſmile, and Cenſure learn to praiſe:Yet, though unequal to a foul like thine,Agenerous foul, approaching to divine,When blefs'd beneath fuch patronage I write,Great my attempt, though hazardous my flight.O'er ample Nature I extend my views;Nature to rural fcenes invites the Mufe:She flies all public care, all venal ſtrife,To try the ftill, compar'd with active life;To prove, by theſe the fons of men may oweThe fruits of blifs to bursting clouds of woe;That ev'n calamity, by thought refin'd,Infpirits and adorns the thinking mind.1015B 4Come,8 SAVAGE'S POEM S.2025Come, Contemplation, whofe unboundedgaze,Swift in a glance, the courfe of things ſurveys;Who in thyself the various view canft findOf fea, land, air, and heaven, and human- kind;What tides of paffion in the boſom roll;What thoughts debafe, and what exalt the foul,Whoſe pencil paints, obfequious to thy will,All thou furvey'ſt, with a creative ſkill!Oh, leave awhile thy lov'd, fequefter'd ſhade!Awhile in wintery wilds vouchſafe thy aid!Then waft me to fome olive, bowery green,Where, cloath'din white, thou fhew't a mindferene; 30Where kind Content from noiſe and court retires,And ſmiling fits , while Muſes tune their lyres:Where Zephyrs gently breathe, while Sleep profoundTotheir foft fanning nods, with poppies crown'd;Sleep, on a treaſure of bright dreams reclines ,By thee beſtow'd; whence Fancy colour'd fhines,And flutters round his brow a hovering flight,Varying her plumes in vifionary light.3540The folar fires now faint and watery burn,Juft where with ice Aquarius frets his urn!If thaw'd, forth iffue, from its mouth fevere,Raw clouds, that fadden all th ' inverted year.When Froft and Fire with martial powers engag'd,Froft, northward, fled the war, unequal wag'd!Beneath the Pole his legions urg'd their flight,And gain'd a cave profound and wide as night.O'er cheerleſs ſcenes by Defolation own'd,High on an Alp of ice he fits enthron'd!45OneTHE WANDERER, CANTO I.One clay- cold hand, his cryſtal beard ſuſtains,And ſcepter'd one, o'er wind and tempeft reigns; 50O'er ftony magazines of hail, that formThe bloffom'd fruit, and flowery Spring deform.His languid eyes like frozen lakes appear,Dim gleaming all the light that wanders here.His robe fnow-wrought, and hoar'd with age; hisbreathAnitrous damp, that ſtrikes petrific death.Far hence lies, ever- er-freez'd , the northern main,That checks, and renders navigation vain,That, fhut against the fun's diffolving ray,Scatters the trembling tides of vanquish'd day,And ftretching eastward half the world fecures,Defies difcovery, and like time endures!Now Froft fent boreal blafts to scourge the air,To bind the streams, and leave the landſcape bare;Yet when, far weft, his violence declines ,556065Though here the brook, or lake, his power confines;To rocky pools, to cataracts are unknownHis chains! ➡to rivers, rapid like the Rhone!The falling moon caſt , cold, a quivering light,Juft filver'd o'er the fnow, and funk! -pale night 70Retir'd . The dawn in light-grey mists arofe!Shrill chants the co*ck! -the hungry heifer lows!Slow bluſh yon breaking clouds; —the fun ' s uproll'd!Th' expanfive grey turns azure, chas'd with gold;White-glittering ice, chang'd likethe topaz, gleams, 75Reflecting faffron luftre from his beams.O Con-10 SAVAGE'S POEM'S.O Contemplation, teach me to explore,From Britain far remote, ſome diſtant ſhore!From Sleep a dream diſtinct and lively claim;Clear let the vifion ftrike the moral's aim!It comes! I feel it o'er my foul ferene!Still Morn begins, and Froſt retains the ſcene!Hark! the loud horn's enlivening note's begun!From rock to vale fweet- wandering echoes run!Still floats the found fhrill-winding from afar!Wild beasts aftoniſh'd dread the fylvan war!Spears to the fun in files embattled play,March on, charge briskly, and enjoy the fray'!808:5Swans, ducks, and geeſe, and the wing'd winter- brood,Chatter diſcordant on yon echoing flood! 90At Babel thus, when heaven the tongue confounds,Sudden a thouſand different jargon - founds,Like jangling bells, harſh mingling, grate the ear!All ftare! all talk! all mean; but none cohere!Mark! wiley fowlers meditate their doom ,AndfmoakyFate ſpeeds thundering throughthegloom!Stop'd fhort, they ceaſe in airy rings to fly,Whirl o'er and o'er, and, fluttering, fall and die.95100Still Fancy wafts me on! deceiv'd I ſtand,Etrang'd, adventurous on a foreign land!Wide and more wide extends the ſcene unknown!Where ſhall I turn, a WANDERER, and alone?From hilly wilds, and depths where fnows remain,My winding ſteps up a ſteep mountain ſtrain!Emers'd a-top, I mark, the hills fubfide,Andtowers afpire, but with inferior pride!1051OnTHE WANDERER, CANTO I. 11ITSOn this bleak height tall firs, with ice-work crown'd,Bend, while their flaky winter fhades the ground!Hoarfe, and direct, a bluſtering north-wind blows!On boughs, thick- ruftling, crack the crifped fnows! Iг0Tangles of froft half-fright the wilder'd eye,By heat oft-blacken'd like a lowering ſky!Hence down the fide two turbid rivulets pour,And devious two, in one huge cataract roar!While pleas'd the watery progreſs I purſue,Yon rocks in rough aſſemblage ruſh in view!In form an amphitheatre they rife;And a dark gulf in their broad centre lies .There the dim'd fight with dizzy weakneſs fails,And horror o'er the firmeſt brain prevails!Thither thefe mountain- ftreams their paffa*ge take,Headlong foam down, and form a dreadful lake!The lake, high- fwelling, fo redundant grows,From the heap'd ſtore deriv'd, a river flows;Which, deepening, travels through a diftant wood, 125And thence emerging, meets a ſiſter- flood;Mingled they flafh on a wide- opening plain,And paſs yon city to the far-feen main.120So blend two fouls by heaven for union made,And ftrengthening forward, lend a mutual aid, 130And prove in every tranfient turn their aim,Through finite life to infinite the fame.Nor ends the landſcape- Ocean, to my fight,Points a blue arm, where failing ſhips delight,Inprofpect leffen'd! -Nownewrocks, rear'd high, 135Stretch a cross-ridge, and bar the curious eye; TThereIL SAVAGE'S POEMS.There lies obfcur'd the ripening diamond's ray,And thence red- branching coral ' s rent away.In conic form there gelid cryſtal grows;Through ſuch the palace lamp, gay luftre throws! 140Luftre, which, through dim night, as various playsAs play from yonder fnows the changeful rays!For nobler uſe the cryſtal's worth may riſe,If tubes perfpective hem the spotless prize;Through thefethe beams ofthe far- lengthen'd eye 145Meaſure known ftars, and new remoter ſpy.Hence Commerce many a fhorten'd voyage ſteers,Shorten'd to months, the hazard once of years;Hence Halley's foul etherial flight effays;Inftructive there from orb to orb the ftrays;Sees, round new countleſs funs, new ſyſtems roll!Sees God in all! and magnifies the whole!Yon rocky fide enrich'd the ſummer ſcene,And peasants fearch for herbs of healthful green;Now naked, pale, and comfortleſs it lies , *Like youth extended cold in death's diſguiſe.There, while without the founding tempeft fwells,Incav'd ſecure th' exulting eagle dwells;And there, when Nature owns prolific fpring,150155Spreads o'er her young a fondling mother's wing. 160Swains on the coaſt the far- fam'd fiſh deſcry,That gives the fleecy robe the Tyrian dye;While fhells, a fcatter'd ornament beſtow,The tinctur'd rivals of the fhowery bow.Yon limeleſs fands, loofe- driving with the wind, 165In future cauldrons ufeful texture find,Till,THE WANDERER, CANTO I. 33Till, on the furnace thrown, the glowing maſsBrightens, and brightening hardens into glass.When winter halcyons, flickering on the wave,Tune their complaints, yon fea forgets to rave;Though lafh'd by ftorms, which naval pride o'erturn,The foaming deep in fparkles feems to burn,Loud winds turn zephyrs to enlarge their notes,And each fafe neft on a calm furface floats.170Nowveers the wind full east; and keen , and fore, 175Its cutting influence aches in every pore!How weak thy fabric, Man! —A puff, thus blown,Staggers thy ftrength, and echoes to thy groan..Atooth's minuteſt nerve let anguiſh ſeize,Swift kindred fibres catch! (fo frail our eafe! )Pinch'd, pierc'd, and torn, enflam'd , and unafluag'd,They fmart, and fwell, and throb, and foot enrag'd!From nerve to nerve fierce flies th`exulting pain!—And are we of this mighty fabric vain?180190Now myblood chills! fcarce through my veins it glides!Sure on each blaſt a ſhivering ague rides!Warn'd let me this bleak eminence foriake,And to the vale a different winding take!Half I defcend: my fpirits faft decay;A terrace now relieves my weary way.Cloſe with this ftage a precipice combines;Whence ftill the ſpacious country far declines!The herds feem infects in the diſtant glades,And men diminiſh'd, as, at noon, their ſhades!Thick on this top o'ergrown for walks are feenGrey leaflefs wood, and winter- greens between!195The14 SAVAGE'S POEM S.2054The reddening berry, deep- ting'd holly ſhows,And matted mistletoe, the white, beſtows!Though loft the banquet of autumnal fruits,Though on broad oaks no vernal umbrage ſhoots! 200Theſe boughs, the filenc'd ſhivering ſongſters feek!Thefe foodful berries fill the hungry beak.Beneath appears a place, all outward bare,Inward the dreary manfion of Deſpair!The water of the mountain-road, half- ſtray'd ,Breaks o'er it wild, and falls a brown caſcade.Has Nature this rough, naked piece defign'd,To hold inhabitants of mortal kind? -She has . Approach'd, appears a deep deſcent,Which opens in a rock a large extent!And hark! -its hollow entrance reach'd , I hearAtrampling found of footſteps haftening near!A death- like chillness thwarts my panting breaſt:·Soft! the wiſh'd object ſtands at length confeft!Of youth his form! Butwhywith anguish bent? 215Why pin'd with fallow marks of difcontent?Yet Patience, labouring to beguile his care,Seems to raiſe hope, and fmiles away deſpair.Compaffion, in his eye, furveys my grief,And in his voice invites me to relief.Preventive of thy call, behold my haſte,(He fays, ) nor let warm thanks thy fpirits wafte!All fear forgetEach portal 'I poffefs,Duty wide-opens to receive diſtreſs.210~220Oblig'd, I follow, by his guidance led; 2:25The vaulted roof re- echoing to our tread!!AndTHE WANDERER, CANTO I. 15And now, in ſquar'd divifions, IfurveyChambers fequefter'd from the glare of day;Yet needful lights are taught to intervene,Through rifts; each forming a perſpective ſcene. 230In front a parlour meets my entering view;Oppos'd, a room to ſweet refection due..Here my chill'd veins are warm'd by chippy fires,Through the bor'd rock above, the ſmoke expires;Neat, o'er a homely board, a napkin ' s ſpread,Crown'd with a heapy caniſter of bread.A. maple cup is next diſpatch'd, to bringThe comfort of the falutary fpring:-Nor mourn we abfent bleffings of the vine,Here laughs a frugal bowl of rofy wine;And favoury, cates, upon clear embers caft,Lie hiffing, till fnatch'd off; a rich repaft!Soon leap my fpirits with enliven'd. power,And in gay converfe glides the feaſtful hour..235240The Hermit, thus: Thou wonder'ft at thy fare: 2451On me, yon city, kind, beftows her care:Meat for keen famine, and the generous juice,Thatwarms chill'd life, her charities produce:Accept without reward; unafk'd ' twas mine;Here what thy health requires, as free be thine. 250Hence learn that GOD, ( who, in the time of need,In frozen deferts can the raven feed ),Well-fought, will delegate fome pitying breaft,His fecond means, to fuccour man diſtreſt ....Hepaus'd. Deep thoughtupon his afpect gloom'd; 255.Then he, with fmile humane, his voice refum'd..I'm16 SAVAGE'S POEM S..I'm juft inform'd , (and laugh me not to fcorn)By one unseen by thee, thou'rt Engliſh- born.Of England I -To me the Britiſh ſtateRifes, in dear memorial, ever great!: 266Here ftand we confcious: -Diffidence fufpend!Free flow our words! -Did ne'er thy Mufe extendTo grots, where Contemplation fmiles ferene,Where angels vifit, and where joys convene?To groves, where more than mortal voices rife, 265;Catch the rapt foul, and waft it to the ſkies?This cave!-Yon walks! -But, ere I more unfold,What artful fcenes thy eyes fhall here behold,Think fubjects of my toil: nor wondering gaze!What cannot Industry completely raife?Be the whole earth in one great landſcape found,By Induſtry is all with beauty crown'd!He, he alone, explores the mine for gain,Hues the hard rock, or harrows up the plain;270)He formsthe fword to fmite; he ſheaths the fteel , 275Draws health from herbs, and fhews the balm to heal;ཉམ2803Or with loom'd wool the native robe ſupplies;Or bids young plants in future forefts rife;Or fells the monarch oak, which, borne away,Shall, with new grace, the diftant ocean fway;Hence golden Commerce views her wealth encreaſe,The blissful child of Liberty and Peace.He ſcoops the stubborn Alps, and, ftill employ'd,Fills, with foft fertile mould, the fteri! void;Slop'd up whiterocks, fmall, yellow harvestsgrow, 285And, green on terrac'd ftages, vineyards blow!By:THE WANDERER, CANTO I. 17By him fall mountains to a level ſpace,An ifthmus finks , and funder'd feas embrace!He founds a city on the naked ſhore,And defolation ftarves the tract no more. 290From the wild waves he won the Belgic land;Where wide they foam'd, her towns and traffics ftand;He clear'd, manur'd, enlarg'd the furtive ground,And firms the conqueft with his fenceful mound.Ev'n mid the watery world his Venice roſe,Each fabric there, as Pleaſure's feat he fhows!There marts, fports, councils, are for action fought,Landſcapes for health, and folitude for thought.What wonder then I, by his potent aid,A mansion in a barren mountain made?Part thou haft view'd! -If further we explore,Let Induſtry deſerve applauſe the more.295300No frowning care yon bleft apartment fees,There Sleep retires, and finds a couch of eafe.Kinddreams, that fly remorfe, andpamper'dwealth, 305There fhed the fmiles of innocence and health.Mark! Here defcends a grot, delightful feat!Whichwarms e'en winter, tempers fummer heat!See!-Gurgling from a top, a ſpring diſtils!In mournful meaſures wind the dripping rills;Soft coos of diſtant doves, receiv'd around ,In foothing mixture, fwell the watery found;And hence the ftreamlets feek the terrace' fhade,Within, without, alike to all convey'd.

310

Pafs on-New fcenes, by my creative power,Invite Reflection's fweet and folemn hour.315C We18 SAVAGE'S POEM S.320We enter'd, where, in well - rang'd order, floodTh'inftructive volumes of the wife and good.Theſe friends ( faid he) though I deſert mankind,Good angels never would permit behind.Each genius, youth conceals, or time difplays ,I know; each work fome feraph here conveys,Retirement thus preſents my ſearchful thought,What heaven infpir'd, and what the Muſe has taught;What Young fatiric and fublime has writ,Whofe life is virtue, and whofe Mufe is wit.

Rapt I foreſee thy Mallet's early aimShine in full worth, and ſhoot at length to fame.Sweet fancy's bloom in Fenton's lay appears,And the ripe judgment of inſtructive years.In Hill is all that generous fouls revere,To Virtue and the Mufe for ever dear:And Thomfon, in this praiſe, thy merit fee,The tongue, that praiſes merit, praiſes thee.325330Thefe fcorn (faid I ) the verfe-wrightoftheir age, 335Vain of a labour'd , languid, uſeleſs page;To whoſe dim faculty the meaning fongIs glaring, or obfcure, when clear, and ftrong;Who, in cant phrafes, gives a work diſgrace;His wit, and oddnefs of his tone and face;Let the weak malice, nurs'd to an eſſay,In fome low libel a mean heart diſplay;Thefe, who once prais'd, now undeceiv'd , defpife,It lives contemn'd a day, then harmleſs dies.

• He had then juft written THE EXCURSION.

340OrTHE WANDERER, CANTO I. 19Or ſhould ſome nobler bard, their worth, unpraife, 345Deferting morals, that adorn his lays,Alas! too oft each ſcience fhews the fame,The great grow jealous of a greater name:Ye bards, the frailty mourn, yet brave the ſhock;Has not a Stillingfleet oppos'd a Locke?Oh, ftill proceed, with facred rapture fir'd!Unenvy'd had he liv'd, if unadmir'd.Let Envy, he replied, all ireful riſe,Envy purſues alone the brave and wife;Maro and Socrates infpire her pain,And Pope, the monarch of the tuneful train!To whom be Nature's, and Britannia's praiſe!All their bright honours rush into his lays!And all that glorious warmth his lays reveal,Which only poets, kings, and patriots feel!Though gay as mirth, as curious thought fedate,As elegance polite, as power elate;Profound as reaſon, and as juſtice clear;Soft as compaffion , yet as truth ſevere;As bounty copious, as perfuafion fweet,Like nature various , and like art complete;So fine her morals, fo fublime her views,His life is almoft equal'd by his Muſe.O Pope -Since Envy is decreed by fate,Since the purfues alone the wife and great;In one fmall, emblematic landscape fee,How va a distance ' twixt thy foe and thee!Truth from an eminence furveys our ſcene(A hill, where all is clear, and all ferene) .C 2350355360365370Rude20 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Rude earth-bred ftorms o'er meaner valleys blow, 375And wandering mifts roll, blackening, far below;Dark, and debas'd , like them, is Envy's aim,And clear, and eminent, like Truth, thy fame..Thus I. From what dire caufe can envy fpring?Or why embofom we a viper's fting?'Tis Envy ftings our darling paffion , pride .Alas! (the man of mighty foul replied)Why chufe we miferies? Moſt derive their birthFrom one bad fource-we dread fuperior worth;Prefer'd, it feems a fatire on our own;380385Then heedlefs to excel we meanly moan:Then we abstract our views, and Envy ſhow,Whencesprings the mifery, pride is doom'd to know.Thus folly pain creates: By wiſdom's power,We fhun the weight of many a reſtleſs hour- 390Lo! I meet wrong; perhaps the wrong I feelTends, by the fcheme of things, to public weal.I, of the whole, am part-the joy men ſee,Muft circulate, and fo revolve to me.Why ſhould I then ofprivate lofs complain? 395Of lofs, that proves, perchance, a brother's gain?The wind, that binds one bark within the bay,May waft a richer freight its wifh'd-for way.If rains redundant flood the abject ground,Mountainsarebutfupplied, when vales are drown'd; 400If, with foft moisture fwell'd, the vale looks gay,The verdure of the mountain fades away.Shall clouds but at my welfare's call defcend?Shall gravity for me her laws fufpend?ForTHE WANDERER, CANTO I. 21For me fhall funs their noon- tide courfe forbear? 405Or motion not fubfift to influence air?Let the means vary, be they froft, or flame,Thy end, O Nature! ftill remains the fame!Be this the motive of a wife man's care,To run deferving ills , and learn to bear. 410WHILECANTO II.HILE thus a mind humane, and wife, he ſhows,All eloquent of truth his language flows .Youth, though depreſs'd, through all his form appears;Through all his fentiments the depth of years.0 Thus he-Yet farther Induſtry behold,110Which confcious waits new wonders to unfold.Enter my chapel next-Lo! here beginThe hallow'd rites, that check the growth of fin .When firſt we met, how foon you ſeem'd to knowMy bofom, labouring with the throbs of woe!Such racking throbs! -Soft! when I roufe thofe cares,On my chill'd mind pale Recollection glares!When moping Frenzy ftrove my thoughts to fway,Here prudent labours chac'd her power away.Full, and rough- rifing from yon fculptur'd wall, 15Bold prophets nations to repentance call!;Meek martyrs fimile in flames! gor'd champions groan!And mufe- like cherubs tune their harps in ftone!C 3Next22 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Next fhadow'd light a rounding force bestows,Swells into life, and ſpeaking action grows!Here pleafing, melancholy fubjects find,To calm , amufe, exalt the penſive mind!This figure tender grief, like mine, implies,And femblant thoughts, that earthly pomp defpife.Such penitential Magdalene reveals;Loofe -veil'd, in negligence of charms the kneels.Though drefs, near- flor'd, its vanity ſupplies,The vanity of drefs unheeded lies.The finful world in forrowing eye ſhe keeps,As o'er Jerufalem Meffiah weeps.20.2530One hand her bofom fmites; in one appearsThe lifted lawn, that drinks her falling tears.Since evil outweighs good, and fways mankind,True fortitude affumes the patient mind:Such prov'd Meffiah's, though to fuffering born, 35To penury, repulſe, reproach , and ſcorn .Here, by the pencil, mark his flight defign'd;The weary'd virgin by a ftream reclin'd,Who feeds the child . Her looks a charm expreſs,Amodeft charm , that dignifies diſtreſs.Boughs o'er their heads with bluſhing fruits depend,Which angels to her bufied confort bend.Hence by the fmiling infant feems diſcern'd,Trifles, concerning Him, all heaven concern'd.Here the transfigur'd Son from earth retires:See! the white form in a bright cloud aſpires!Full on his followers burfts a flood of rays,Proftrate they fall beneath th' o'erwhelming blaze!4045LikeTHE WANDERER, CANTO II . 23Like noon-tide fummer-funs the rays appear,Unfufferable, magnificent, and near!What fcene of agony the garden brings;The cup of gall; the fuppliant King of kings!The crown of thorns; the crofs , that felt him die;Thefe, languid in the ſketch , unfiniſh'd lie.50There, from the dead, centurions fee him rife, 55"See! but ftruck down with horrible furprize!As the firſt glory ſeem'd a fun at noon,This cafts the filver fplendor of the moon .Here peopled day, th' afcending God furveys!The glory varies, as the myriads gaze! 6065Now foften'd, like a fun at diftance feen,When through a cloud bright- glancing, yet ferene!Now faft- encreafing to the croud amaz'd,Like ſome vaſt meteor high in æther rais'd!My labour, yon high-vaulted altar ftainsWith dies, that emulate ætherial plains.The convex glaſs, which in that opening glows,Mid circling rays a pictur'd Saviour ſhows!Bright it collects the beams, which, trembling all,Back from the God, a fhowery radiance fall.Lightening the ſcene beneath! a fcene divine!Where faints, clouds, feraphs, intermingled ſhine!Here water-falls , that play melodious round,70Like a fweet organ, fwell a lofty found!The folemn notes bid earthly paffions fly, 75Lull all my cares, and lift my foul on high!This monumental marble-this I rearTo one-Oh! ever mourn'd! -Oh! ever dear!C 4He24. SAVAGE'S POEMS.He ſtopt-pathetic fighs the paufe fupply,And the prompt tear farts, quivering, on his eye! 80I look'd- two columns near the wall were feen,An imag'd beauty ſtretch'd at length between.Near the wept fair, her harp Cecilia ftrung;Leaning, from high, a liſtening angel hung!Friendship, whoſe figure at the feet remains,A phoenix, with irradiate creft, ſuſtains:This grac'd one palm, while one extends t'impartTwoforeign hands, that clafp a burning heart.Apendent veil two hovering feraphs raife,Which opening heaven upon the roof diſplays!And two, benevolent, lefs -diftant, holdA vafe, collective ofperfumes uproll'd!Theſe from the heart, by Friendſhip held , ariſe,Odorous as incenfe gathering in the ſkies.In the fond pelican is love expreſt,859095Who opens to her young her tender breaſt.Two mated turtles hovering hang in air,One by a faulcon ftruck -in wild deſpair,The hermit cries-So death, alas! deſtroysThe tender confort of my cares and joys!Again foft tears upon his eye- lid hung,Agam check'd founds dy'd , fluttering, on his tongue.Too well his pining inmost thought I know!100Too well ev'n filence tells the ſtory'd woe!To his my fighs , to his my tears reply!I ftray o'er all the tomb a watery eye!105Next, on the wall, her fcenes of life I gaz'd,The form back-leaning, by a globe half-rais'd!CherubsTHE WANDERER, CANTO II. 25Cherubs a profer'd crown of glory ſhow,Ey'd wistful by th ' admiring fair below.In action eloquent difpos'd her hands,One fhows her breaft, in rapture one expands!This the fond hermit feiz'do'er all his foul,The foft, wild, wailing, amorous paffion ſtole!In ftedfaft gaze his eyes her aſpect keep,Then turn away, a while dejected weep;Then he reverts them; but reverts in vain,Dimm'd with the fwelling grief that ftreams again.Where now is my philofophy? (he cries)My joy, hope, reafon, my Olympia dies!Why did I e'er that prime of bleffings know?Was it, ye cruel fates, t'imbitter woe?Why would your bolts not level firſt my head?Why must I live to weep Olympia dead?J10313120-Sir, I had once a wife! Fair bloom'd her youth, 125Her form was beauty, and her foul was truth!Oh, ſhe was dear! Howdear, what words can ſay?She dies! -my heaven at once is fnatch'd away!Ah! what avails, that, by a father's care,I rofe a wealthy and illuftrious heir? 130That early in my youth I learn'd to proveTh' inftructive, pleafing, academic grove?That in the fenate eloquence was mine?That valour gave me in the field to fhine?That lovefhower'd bleffings too-far morethan all 135High-rapt ambition e'er could happy call?Ah! What are theſe, which ev'n the wife adore?Loft is my pride! -Olympia is no more!Had26 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Had I, ye perfecuting powers! been bornThe world's cold pity, or, at best, its ſcorn;Ofwealth, of rank, of kindred warmth bereft;To want, to fhame, to ruthlefs cenfure left!Patience, or pride, to this, relief ſupplies!But a loft wife!-there! there diftraction lies!Now three fad years I yield me all to grief,And fly the hated comfort of relief!140145150Though rich, great, young, I leave a pompous ſeat,(Mybrother's now) to feek ſome dark retreat:Mid cloiſter'd folitary tombs I stray,Defpair and horror lead the cheerleſs way!My forrow grows to fuch a wild exceſs,Life, injur'd life, must wish the paffion leſs!Olympia! My Olympia's loft! ( I cry)Olympia's loft, the hollow vaults reply!Louder I make my lamentable moan;The fwelling echoes learn like me to groan;355The ghoſts to ſcream, as through lone aifles they fweep;The fhrines to fhudder, and the faints to weep!Now grief and rage, by gathering fighs fuppreft,Swell myfull heart, and heave my labouring breaft! 160With ftruggling ſtarts, each vital ftring they ftrain,Andſtrike the tottering fabric of my brain!O'er my funk ſpirits frowns a vapoury ſcene,Woe's dark retreat! the madding maze of spleen!Adeep damp gloom o'erfpreads the murky cell; 165Here pining thoughts and ſecret terrors dwell!Here learn the Great unreal wants to feign!Unpleafing truths here mortify the vain!HereTHE WANDERER, CANTO II. 27Here Learning, blinded firft, and then beguil'd,Looks dark as Ignorance, as Frenzy wild!Here firft Credulity on Reaſon won!170And here falfe Zeal myfterious rants begun!Here Love impearls each moment with a tear,And Superftition owes to Spleen her fear!Fantastic lightnings, through the dreary way, 175In ſwift ſhort ſignals flaſh the bursting day!Above, beneath, acrofs, around, they fly!Adire deception ſtrikes the mental eye!By the blue fires, pale phantoms grin ſevere!Shrill, fancy'd echoes woundth' affrighted ear!Air-banish'd ſpirits flag in fogs profound,And, all - obfcene, ſhed baneful damps around!Now whiſpers, trembling in ſome feeble wind,Sigh out prophetic fears, and freeze the mind!Loudlaughs the hag! -She mocks complaint away,Unroofs the den, and lets - in more than day.Swarms of wild fancies, wing'd in various flight,Seek emblematic fhades, and myſtic light!180Some drive with rapid ſteeds the ſhining car!Thefe nod fromthrones! Thofe thunder in the war! 190Till, tir'd, they turn from the delufive show,Start from wild joy, and fix in ftupid woe.Here the lone hour a blank of life difplays,Till now bad thoughts a fiend more active raiſeA fiend in evil moments ever nigh!Death in her hand, and frenzy in her eye!Her eye all red, and funk! -A robe ſhe wore,With life's calamities embroider'd o'er.

195A mir.28 SAVAGE'S POEM S.200A mirror in one hand collective ſhows,Vary'd and multiply'd, that group of woes.This endleſs foe to generous toil and painLolls on a couch for eafe; but lolls in vain;She mufes o'er her woe- embroider'd veft,And ſelf- abhorrence heightens in her breaſt.To fhun her care, the force of fleep fhe tries,Still wakes her mind, though flumbers doze her eyes:She dreams, ftarts , riſes , ſtalks from place to place,With reftlefs, thoughtful, interrupted pace;Now eyes the fun, and curfes every ray,205Now the green ground, where colour fades away. 210Dim fpectres dance! Again her eye ſhe rears;Then from the blood - ſhot ball wipes purpled tears;Then preſſes hard her brow, with miſchief fraught,Her brow half burfts with agony of thought!From me(the cries) pale wretch, thy comfort claim, 215Born of Despair, and Suicide my name!Why fhould thy life a moment's pain endure!Here every object proffers grief a cure.She points where leaves of hemlock blackening fhoot!Fearnot! pluck! eat (ſaid fhe) the fovereign root! 220Then Death, revers'd, fhall bear his ebon lance!Soft o'er thy fight fhall ſwim the fhadowy trance!Or leap yon rock, poffefs a watery grave,And leave wild forrow to the wind and wave!Or mark-this poniard thus from mifery frees! 225She wounds her breaſt! -the guilty fteel I feize!Straight, where the ftruck, a fmoaking fpring of goreWells from the wound, and floats the crimson'd floor,SheTHE WANDERER, CANTO II . 29Shefaints! The fades! -Calmthoughts the deed revolve,And now, unftartling, fix the dire refolve; 230Death drops his terrors, and, with charming wiles,Winning, and kind, like my Olympia fmiles!He points the paffa*ge to the feats divine,Where poets, heroes, fainted lovers ſhine!I come, Olympia!-my rear'd arm extends; 235Half to my breaft the threatening point deſcends;Straight thunder rocks the land! new lightnings play!When, lo! a voice refounds- Arife! away!Away! nor murmur at th' afflictive rod!Nor tempt the vengeance of an angry God!Fly'st thou from Providence for vain relief?Such ill -fought eaſe ſhall draw avenging grief.Honour, the more obftructed, stronger fhines,And zeal by perfecution's rage refines.By woe, the foul to daring action fwells;Bywoe, in paintleſs patience it excels;240245From patient, prudent dear experience ſprings,And traces knowledge through the courfe of things!Thence hope is form'd, thence fortitude, fuccefs,Renown whate'er men covet and carefs . 250The vanish'd fiend thus fent a hollow voice.Would't thou be happy? ftraight be death thy choice.How mean are thofe, who paffively complain;While active fouls, more free, their fetters ftrain!Though knowledge thine, hope, fortitude, fuccefs, 255Renown -whate'er men covet and carefs;On earth fuccefs muft in its turn give way,And ev❜n perfection introduce decay.Never30 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Never the world of fpirits thus -their reſtUntouch'd! entire! -once happy, ever bleft!Earnest the heavenly voice reſponſive cries ,Oh, liften not to fubtilty unwife!260Thy guardian faint, who mourns thy hapless fate,Heaven grants to prop thy virtue, ere too late.Know, if thou wilt thy dear- lov'd wife deplore, 265Olympia waits thee on a foreign fhore;There in a cell thy laft remains be ſpent; 2Away! deceive Deſpair, and find Content!I heard, obey'd; nor more of Fate complain'd;Long feas I meafur'd, and this mountain gain’d. 270Soon to a yawning rift, chance turn'd my way;A den it prov'd, where a huge ferpent lay!Flame- ey'd he lay! -he rages now for food,Meets my first glance, and meditates my blood!His bulk, in many a gather'd orb uproll'd,Rears fpire on fpire! His fcales, be-dropt with gold,Shine burnifh'd in the fun! fuch height they gain,They dart green luftre on the diftant main!Now writh'd in dreadful flope, he ſtoops his creft,Furious to fix on my unfhielded breaſt!275280Just as he fprings, my fabre finites the foe!Headless he falls beneath th' unerring blow!Wrath yet remains, though ftrength his fabric leaves,And the meant hifs the gafping mouth deceives;The lengthening trunk flow- loofens every fold,Lingers in life: then stretches ftiff, and cold .Just as th' inveterate fon of mischief ends,Comes a white dove, and near the fpot defcends:285I hai!THE WANDERER, CANTO II.83CI hail this omen! all bad paffions ceaſe,Lik the flain ſnake, and all within is peace.Next, to religion this plain roof I raiſe!In duteous rites my hallow'd tapers blaze;I bid due incenfe on my altars ſmoke!Then, at this tomb, my promis'd love invoke!290Shehears! he comes! -Myheart what raptures warm?All my Olympia fparkles in the form!300No pale, wan, livid mark of death fhe bears!Each rofeate look a quickening tranſport wears!Arobe of light, high wrought, her ſhape inveſts;Unzon'd the fwelling beauty of her breaſts!Her auburn hair each flowing ring refumes,In her fair hand, Love's branch of myrtle blooms!Silent, awhile, each well - known charm I trace;Then, thus, ( while nearer ſhe avoids th' embrace)Thou dear deceit! -muft I a fhade purſue? 305Dazzled I gaze! -thou ſwimm'ſt before my view!Dipt in etherial dews, her bough divineSprinkles myeyes, which, ftrengthen'd, bear the fhine:Still thus I urge ( for ftill the fhadowy bliſsShuns the warm grafp, nor yields the tender kifs ) 310Oh, fly not! -fade not! liften to love's call!She lives! no more I'm man! -I'm fpiric all!Thenlet mefnatch thee! -prefs thee! -take me whole!Ob, clofe! -yet cloſer! —cloſer to my foul!Twice, round her waiſt, my eager arms entwin'd, 315And, twice deceiv'd, my frenzy clafp'd the wind!Then thus I rav'd -Behold thy huſband kneel,And judge! O judge what agonies I feel!Oh!32 SAVAGE'S POE M.S.IFOh! be no longer, if unkind, thus fair;Take Horror's fhape, and fright me to deſpair!Rather than thus, unpitying, fee my moan,Far rather frown, and fix me here in ſtone!But mock not thus! -Alas ( the charmer faid,Smiling, and in her ſmile ſoft radiance play'd)Alas! no more eluded ſtrength employ,To clafp a fhade! —What more is mortal joy?Man's blifs is , like his knowledge, but furmis'd;One ignorance, the other pain difguis'ď!Thou wert (had all thy with been ſtill poſſeſt)Supremely curft from being greatly bleft;For oh! fo fair, fo dear was I to thee,Thou hadst forgot thy God, to worſhip me;This he forefaw, and fnatch'd me to the tomb;Above I flourish in unfading bloom.320325330Think me not loft: for thee I heaven implore! 335Thy guardian angel, though a wife no more!I, when abftracted from this world you feem,340Hint the pure thought, and frame the heavenly dream!Cloſe at thy fide, when morning ftreaks the air,In Mufic's voice I wake thy mind to prayer!Byme, thy hymns, like pureft incenfe, rife,Fragrant with grace, and pleafing to the ſkies!And when that form fhall from its clay refine,(That only bar betwixt my foul and thine! )When thy lov'd ſpirit mounts to realms of light,Then fhall Olympia aid thy earliest flight;345Mingled we'll flame in raptures that afpireBeyond all youth, all fenfe, and all defire.SheTHE WANDERER, CANTO II. 33mind:She ended. Still fuch fweetnefs dwells behind,Th' inchanting voice ftill warbles in myBut lo! th' unbodied vifion fleets away! --Stay, my Olympia! -I conjure thee, ftay!Yet ftay for thee my memory leans to fmart!Sure every vein contains a bleeding heart!Sooner fhall fplendor leave the blaze of day,Than love, fo pure, fo vaft as mine, decay!From the fame heavenly fource its luftre came,And glows, immortal, with congenial flame!Ah!-let me not with fires neglected burn;Sweet miſtreſs of my foul, return , return!Alas!-fhe's fled I traverfe now the place,Where my enamour'd thoughts her footſteps trace.Now, o'er the tomb, I bend my drooping head,There tears, the eloquence of forrow, fhed .Sighs choak my words, unable to exprefsThe pangs, the thrcbs of fpeechlefs tenderness!Not with more ardent, more transparent flame,Call dying faints on their Creator's name,Than I on her's; —but through yon yielding door,Glides a new phantom o'er th' illumin'd floor!The roof fwift - kindles from the beaming ground,And floods of living luftre flame around!In all the majefty of light array'd ,Awful it fhines!-' tis Cato's honour'd fhade!As I the heavenly vifitant purfue,Sublimer Glory opens to my view '350355360365370375He ſpeaks! -But, oh! what words ſhall dare repeatHis thoughts! They leave me fir'd with patriot heat!D More34 SAVAGE'S POEM S.More than poetic raptures now I feel,And own that godlike paffion , public zeal! 380But from myfrailty, it receives a ftain ,I grow, unlike my great infpirer, vain;And burn, once more, the bufy world to know,And would, in ſcenes of action foremoſt glow!Where proud ambition points her dazzling rays! 385Where coronets and crowns, attractive, blaze!When my Olympia leaves the realms above,And lures me back to folitary love.390She tells me truth, prefers an humble ſtate,That genuine greatneſs fhuns the being great!That mean are thofe, who falfe-term'd honour prize;Whofe fabricks from their country's ruin rife;Who look the traitor, like the patriot, fair;Who, to enjoy the vineyard, wrong the heir.I hear through all my veins new tranfports roll!I gaze!-warm love comes rufhing on myfoul:Ravifh'd I gaze! -again her charms decay!Again my manhood to my grief gives way!Cato returns!-Zeal takes her courfe to reign!But zeal is in ambition loſt again!I'm now the flave of fondnefs! -now of pride!-By turns they conquer, and by turns fubfide!Thefe balanc'd each by each, the golden mean,Betwixt them found, gives happiness ferene;This I ll enjoy! -He ended! -I replied,O Hermit! thon art worth feverely try'd!But had not innate grief produc'd thy woes,Men, barbarous men, had prey'd on thy repoſe.400405WhenTHE WANDERER, CANTO ÎI. 35410When feeking joy, we feldom forrow mifs,And often miſery points the path to bliſs.The foil, most worthy of the thrifty fwain,Is wounded thus, ere trufted with the grain;The ftruggling grain muſt work obſcure its way,Ere the first green ſprings upward to the day;Up- fprung, fuch weed- like coarfeneſs it betrays, 415Flocks on th' abandon'd blade permiffive graze;Then fhoots the wealth, from imperfection clear,And thus a grateful harveſt crowns the year. -THUCANTO III.HUS free our focial time from morning flowsTill rifing fhades attempt the day to cloſe.Thus my new friend: Behold the light's decay:Back to yon city let me point thy way.South-west, behind yon hill , the floping fun,To ocean's verge his fluent courſe has run:His parting eyes a watery radiance ſhed,8ૐGlance through the vale, and tip the mountain's head:To which oppos'd, the ſhadowy gulfs, below,Beauteous, reflect the party- colour'd fnow . 10Now dance the stars, where Vefper leads the way;'Yet all faint-glimmering with remains of day.Orient, the Queen of Night emits her dawn,And throws, unfeen, her mantle o'er the lawn.Up the blue fteep, her crimfon orb now fhines;Now on the mountain-top her arm reclines,15D 2 In36 SAVAGE'S POEM S.20In ared crefcent feen: Her zone now gleams,Like Venus, quivering in reflecting ftreams.Yet reddening, yet round- burning up the air,From the white cliff, her feet flow- rifing glare!See!,flames, condens'd now vary her attire;Her face, a broad circumference of fire.Dark firs feem kindled in nocturnal blaze;'Through ranks of pines, her broken luftre plays,Here glares, there brown- projecting ſhade beſtows, 25And, glittering, fports upon the fpangled frows.Now filver turn her beams! -yon den they gain;The big, rouz'd lion ſhakes his brindled main .Fierce, fleet, gaunt monfters, all prepar'd for gore,Rend woods, vales, rocks, with wide refounding roar.O dire prefa*ge! -But fear not thou, my friend,Our steps the guardians of the juſt attend.Homeward I'll wait thee on- and now furvey,How men and fpirits chace the night away!40Yon nymphs and fwains in amorous mirth advance; 35To breathing mufic moves the circling dance.Here the bold youth in deeds adventurous glow,Skimming in rapid fleds the crackling fnow.Not when Tydides won the funeral race.Shot his light car along in ſwifter pace.Here the glaz'd way with iron feet they dare,And glide, well- pois'd, like Mercuries in air.There crowds, with ftable tread, and level'd eye.Lift, and difmifs the quoits, that whirling fly.With force fuperior, not with ſkill ſo true,The ponderous difk from Roman finews flew.45WhereTHE WANDERER, CANTO III . 37Where neighbouring hills fome cloudy ſheet fuftain,Freez'd o'er the nether vale a penfile plain,Cross the roof'd hollow rolls the maffy round,The crack'd ice rattles, and the rocks refound!Cenfures, difputes, and laughs, alternate, riſe;And deafening clangor thunders up the ſkies.Thus, amid crowded images, ferene,50From hour to hour we paſſ'd , from ſcene to ſcene:Faft worethe night. Full long we pac'd our way: 55Vain fteps! the city yet far diftant lay.While thus the Hermit, ere my wonder spoke,Methought, with new amufement, filence broke:Yon amber-hued cafcade, which fleecy fliesThrough rocks, and ſtrays along the trackleſs ſkies 60To frolic fairies marks the mazy ring;Forth to the dance from little cells they ſpring,Meafur'd to pipe or harp! —and next they ſtand,Marshal'd beneath the moon, a radiant band!In froft- work now delight the fportive kind:Now court wild fancy in the whistling wind.65Hark! the funereal beli's deep - founding toll,To blifs, from mifery, calls fome righteous foul!Juft freed from life, life ſwift- aſcending fire ,Glorious it mounts, and gleams from yonder fpire! 70Light claps its wings! -it views, with pitying fight,The friendly mourner pay the pious rite;The plume high wrought, that blackening nods in air;The flow-pac'd weeping pomp; the folemn prayer;The decent tomb; the verfe, that Sorrow gives, 75Where, to remembrance ſweet, fair virtue lives.D 3Now38 SAVAGE'S POEM S.8590Now to mid-heaven the whiten'd moon inclines,And fhades contract, mark'd out in clearer lines;With noiſeleſs gloom the plains are delug'd o'er:See!-from the north, what ſtreaming meteors pour! 80Beneath Bootes fprings the radiant train,And quiver through the axle of his wain.O'er altars thus, impainted, we beholdHalf-circling glories, fhoot in rays of gold.Crofs æther fwift elance the vivid fires!As fwift again each pointed flame retires!In Fancy's eye encountering armies glare,And fanguine enfigns wave unfurl'd in air!Hence the weak vulgar deem impending fate,A monarch ruin'd, or unpeopled ſtate.Thus comets, dreadful vifitants! ariſeTo them wild omens! fcience to the wife!Theſe mark the comet to the fun incline,While deep-red flames around its centre ſhine!While its fierce rear a winding trail diſplays,And lights all æther with the ſweepy blaze!Or when, compell'd, it flies the torrid zone,And ſhoots by worlds unnumber'd and unknown;By worlds, whofe people, all - aghaſt with fear,May view that minifter of vengeance near!Till now, the tranfient glow, remote and loft,Decays, and darkens ' mid involving froſt!Or when it, fun- ward, drinks rich beams again,And burns imperious on th’ætherial plain!The learn'd - one curious eyes it from afar,Sparkling through night, a new illuſtrious ſtar!95100105TheTHE WANDERER, CANTO III. 39Themoon, defcending, faw us now purfueThe various talk:-the city near in view!Here from ftill-life (he cries) avert thy fight,And mark what deeds adorn, or ſhame the night! 110But, heedful, each immodeft profpect fly;Where decency forbids enquiry's eye.Man were not man, without love's wanton fire,But reafon's glory is to quell defire.What are thy fruits, O Luft? Short bleffings, boughtWith long remorse, the feed of bitter thought;Perhaps fome babe to dire difeafes born,120125Doom'd for another's crimes, through life, to mourn;Or murder'd, to preſerve a mother's fame;Or caft obfcure; the child of want and fhame!Falfe pride! What vices on our conduct ſteal ,From the world's eye one frailty to conceal!Ye cruel mothers! -Soft! thoſe words command;So near fhall cruelty, and mother ſtand?Can the dove's bofom fnakey venom draw?Can its foot fharpen, like the vulture's claw?Can the fond goat, or tender, fleecy damHowl, like the wolf, to tear the kid, or lamb?Yes, there are mothers-There I fear'd his aim,And, conſcious, trembled at the coming name;Then, with a figh, his iffuing words oppos'd!Straight with a falling tear the fpeech he clos'd.That tenderness, which ties of blood deny,Nature repaid me from a ftranger's eye.130Pale grew my cheeks! -But now to general views 135Our converſe turns, which thus my friend renews.D 4You40` SAVAGE'SPOEM S.140145Yon manfion, made by beaming tapers gay,Drowns the dim night, and counterfeits the day.From lumin'd windows glancing on the eye,Around, athwart, the friſking fhadows fly.There midnight riot ſpreads illufive joys,And fortune, health, and dearer time deſtroys.Soon death's dark agent to luxuriant eaſe,Shall wake ſharp warnings in fome fierce diſeaſe.O man thy fabric ' s like a well- form'd ftate;Thythoughts, firft rank'd, were fure defign'd the great;Paffions plebians are, which faction raiſe;Wine, like pour'd oil, excites the raging blaze:Then giddy anarchy's rude triumphs rife:Then fovereign reaſon from her empire flies:That ruler once depos'd , wiſdom and wit,To noiſe and folly, place and power ſubmit;Like a frail bark thy weaken'd mind is toſt,Unfteer'd, unbalanc'd, till its wealth is loft.The mifer- fpirit eyes the ſpendthrift heir,And mourns, too late , effects of fordid care.His treaſures fly to cloy each fawning flave;Yet grudge a ftone to dignify his grave.150155For this, low-thoughted craft his life employ'd;For this, though wealthy, he no wealth enjoy'd; 160For this, he grip'd the poor, and alms deny'd,Unfriended liv'd, and unlamented died .Yet fmile, griev'd ſhade! when that unprofperous ſtoreFaft- leffens, when gay hours return no more;Smile atthy heir, beholding, in his fall,Men once oblig'd, like Him, ungrateful all!165ThenTHE WANDERER, CANTO III . 41Then thought-inspiring woe his heart fhall mend,And prove his only wife, unflattering friend.Folly exhibits thus unmanly fport,175While plotting Miſchief keeps referv'd her court. 170Lo! from that mount, in blaſting fulphur broke,Stream flames voluminous, enwrapp'd with finoke!In chariot-ſhape they whirl up yonder tower,Lean on its brow, and like deftruction lower!From the black depth a fiery legion ſprings;Each bold, bad ſpectre claps her founding wings:And ftraight beneath a fummon'd, traiterous hand,On horror bent, in dark convention ftand:From each fiend's mouth a ruddy vapour flows,Glides through the roof, and o'er the council glows: 180The villains, cloſe beneath th' infection pent,Feel, all- poffefs'd, their rifing galls ferment;And burn with faction , hate, and vengeful ire,For rapine, blood, and devaſtation dire!But Juftice marks their ways: fhe waves, in air, 185The fword, high- threatening, like a comet's glare.While here dark Villainy herſelf deceives,There ftudious Honefty our view relieves.A feeble taper, from yon lonefome room ,Scattering thin rays, juft glimmers through the gloom.There fits the fapient BARD in mufeful mood,And glows impaffion'd for his country's good!All the bright fpirits of the juft, combin'd,Inform, refine, and prompt his towering mind!He takes the gifted quill from hands divine,Around his temples rays refulgent ſhine!195Now42 SAVAGE'S POEMS.1Nowrapt! now more than man! -I ſee him climb,To view this fpeck of earth from worlds fublime!I fee him now o'er Nature's works prefide!How clear the viſion! and the fcene how wide!Let fome a name by adulation raiſe,Or fcandal, meaner than a venal praife!My Mufe (he cries) a nobler proſpect view!Through fancy's wilds fome moral's point purſue!From dark deception clear- drawn truth diſplay,As from black chaos roſe refplendent day!Awake compaffion, and bid terror rife!Bid humble forrows ftrike fuperior eyes!So pamper'd power, unconfcious of diſtreſs,May fee, be mov'd, and, being mov'd, redrefs .Ye traytors, tyrants, fear his ſtinging lay!Ye powers unlov'd, unpity'd in decay!But know, to you ſweet - bloſſom'd Fame he brings,Ye heroes, patriots, and paternal kings!200205210O Thou, whoform'd, who rais'd the poet's art, 215(Voice ofthy will! ) unerring force impart!If wailing worth can generous warmth excite,If verfe can gild inftruction with delight,Inſpire his honeft Mufe with orient flame,To rife, to dare, to reach the nobleſt aim! 220But, O my friend! myſterious is our fate!How mean his fortune, though his mind elate!Æneas-like he paffes through the crowd,Unfought, unfeen beneath misfortune's cloud;Or feen with flight regard: Unprais'd his name: 225His after-honour, and our after- ſhame.TheTHE WANDERER, CANTO III. 43The doom'd defert, to avarice ſtands confefs'd;Her eyes averted are, and ſteel'd her breaft.Envy afquint the future wonder eyes:Bold Infult, pointing, hoots him as he flies;While coward Cenfure, fkill'd in darker ways,Hints fure detraction in diffembled praiſe!Hunger, thirſt, nakedneſs , there grievous fall!Unjuſt deriſion too! - that tongue of gall!230Slow comes Relief, with no mild charms endued, 235Ufher'd by Pride, and by Reproach purfued.Forc'd Pity meets him with a cold reſpect,Unkind as Scorn , ungenerous as Neglect.Yet, fuffering Worth! thy fortitude will fhine:Thy foes are Virtue's, and her friends are thine! 240Patience is thine, and Peace thy days fhall crown;Thy treaſure Prudence, and thy claim Renown:Myriads, unborn, ſhall mourn thy hapless fate,And myriads grow, by thy example, great!Hark! from the watch-tower rolls the trumpet'sfound,Sweet through ftill night, proclaiming ſafety round!Yon fhade illuftrious quits the realms of reſt,To aid fome orphan of its race diſtreſt,Safe winds him through the fubterraneous way,That mines yon manfion, grown with ruin grey, 250And marks the wealthy, unſuſpected ground,Where, green with ruft, long- buried coins abound.This plaintive ghoſt, from earth when newly fled,Saw thofe, the living trufted, wrong the dead;He ſaw, by fraud abus'd, the lifeless handSign the falfe deed that alienates his land;255Heard,44 SAVAGE'S POE M S.Heard, on his fame, injurious cenfure thrown,And mourn'd the beggar'd orphan's bitter groan.Commiffion'd now the falfehood he reveals,To juftice foon th' enabled heir appeals;Soon, by his wealth , are coftly pleas maintain'd,And, by difcover'd truth, loft right regain'd.260But why (may fome enquire) why kind fuccefs,Since myftic heaven gives mifery oft to bleſs?Though mifery leads to happineſs and truth,Unequal to the load, this languid youth,Unftrengthen'd virtue fcarce his boſom fir'd,And fearful from his growing wants retir'd.Oh, let not cenfure, if ( untried by grief,If, amidst woe, untempted by relief, )He ſtoop'd reluctant to low arts of ſhame,265270Which then, ev'n then he fcorn'd, and bluſh'd to name.Heaven fees, and makes th' imperfect worth its care,And chears the trembling heart, unform'd to bear,Now rifing fortune elevates his mind,He fhines unclouded, and adorns mankind.So in fome engine, that denies a vent,If unrefpiring is fome creature pent,It fickens, droops, and pants, and gafps for breath,Sad o'er the fight ſwim ſhadowy miſts of death;If then kind air pours powerful in again,New heats, new pulfes quicken every vein;From the clear'd, lifted , life - rekindled eye,Difpers'd, the dark and dampy vapours fly.275280From trembling tombs the ghofts ofgreatneſs rife, 285And o'er their bodies hang with wiſtful eyes;OrTHE WANDERER, CANTO III. 45299Or difcontented ftalk, and mix their howlsWithhowlingwolves, their fcreams with fcreaming owls.The interval ' twixt night and morn is nigh,Winter more nitrous chills the fhadow'd fky.Springs with foft heats no more give borders green,Nor (moaking breathe along the whiten'd ſcene;While ſteamy currents, fweet in profpect, charmLike veins blue-winding on a fair- one's arm .Now Sleep to Fancy parts with half his power 295And broken flumbers drag the restless hour.The murder'd feems alive, and ghaftly glares ,And in dire dreams the conſcious murderer feares,Shews the yet-fpouting wound, th' enfanguin'd floor,The walls yet- fmoaking with the ſpatter'd gore; 300Or fhrieks to dozing juftice, and revealsThe deed, which fraudful art from day conceals;The delve obfcene, where no fufpicion pries,Where the disfigur'd corfe unfhrouded lies;The fure, the ſtriking proof, ſo ſtrong maintain'd, 305Pale guilt ſtarts felf- convicted, when arraign'd.Thefe fpirits treafon of its power diveft,And turn the peril from the patriot's breaft.Thofe folemn thought inſpire, or bright deſcendTo fnatch in vifion fweet the dying friend. 310But we deceive the gloom, the matin bellSummons to prayer! —Now breaks th’inchanter's fpell!And now-But yon fair fpirit's form furvey!'Tis fhe!-Olympia beckons me away!I hafte!-I fly! -ad eu! -and when you feeThe youth who bleeds with fondneſs, think on me:315Tell46 SAVAGE'SPOEM S.

Tell him my tale, and be his pain careft;By love I tortur'd was, by love I'm bleft.When worship'd woman we entranc'd behold,We praiſe the Maker in his faireft mould;The pride of nature, harmony combin'd,And light immortal to the foul refin'd!Depriv'd of charming woman, foon we missThe prize of friendſhip , and the life of blifs!320Still throughthe fhades Olympia dawningbreaks! 325What bloom, what brightneſs lufters o'er her cheeks!Again the calls! I dare no longer ſtay!Akind farewell-Olympia, I obey.He turn'd, nor longer in my fight remain'd;The mountain he, I fafe the city gain'd. 330CANTO IV.TILL o'er my STILL mind wild Fancy holds her ſway,Still on ftrange, vifionary land I ftray.Now fcenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!Near the Bull's horn light's rifing monarch draws;Now on its back the Pleiades he thaws!From vernal heat pale winter forc'd to fly,Northward retires, yet turns a watery eye;Then with an aguiſh breath nips infant blooms,Deprives unfolding fpring of rich perfumes,Shakes the flow- circling blood of human race,And in ſharp, livid looks contracts the face.10NowTHE WANDERER, CANTO IV. 47Now o'er Norwegian hills he ftrides away:Such flippery paths Ambition's ſteps betray.Turning, with fighs, far fpiral firs he fees ,Which bow obedient to the fouthern breeze.Now from yon Zemblan rock his creſt he ſhrouds,Like Fame's, obſcur'd amid the whitening clouds;Thence his loft empire is with tears deplor'd:Such tyrants fhed o'er liberty reftor'd.Beneath his eye ( that throws malignant lightTen times the meaſur'd round of mortal fight)A wafte, pale glimmering, like a moon, that wanesAwild expanfe of frozen fea contains.1320It cracks! -vaft floating mountains beat the ſhore! 25Far off he hears thofe icy ruins roar,And from the hideous crash diſtracted flies,Like one, who feels his dying infant's cries.Near, and more near the rushing torrents found,And one great rift runs through the vast profound, 30Swift as a fhooting meteor; groaning loud,Like deep-roll'd thunder through a rending cloud.The late dark Pole now feels unfetting day:In hurricanes of wrath he whirls his way;O'er many a polar Alp to Froſt he goes, 35O'er crackling vales, embrown'd with melting fnows:Here bears ſtalk tenants of the barren ſpace,Few men, unfocial thofe! -a barbarous race!At length the cave appears! the race is run:How he recounts vaft conquests loſt and won,And taleful in th' embrace of Froſt remains,Barr'd from our climes, and bound in icy chains.40Mean-48 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Meanwhile the fun his beams on Cancer throws,Which now beneath his warmeft influence glows.From glowing Cancer fallen , the King of day,Red through the kindling Lion fhoots his ray.The tawny harvest pays the earlier plough,And mellowing fruitage loads the bending bough.'Tis day-fpring. Now green labyrinths I frequent,Where Wisdom oft retires to meet Content.The mounting lark her warbling anthem lends,From note to note the ravifh'd foul afcends;As thus it would the patriarch's ladder climb,By fome good angel led to worlds fublime:Oft (legends fay) the fnake, with waken'd ire,Like Envy rears in many a fcaly fpire;455055Then fongfters droop, then yield their vital gore,And innocence and mufic are no more.Mild rides the Morn in orient beauty dreft,An azure mantle, and a purple veſt,Which, blown by gales, her gemmy feet diſplay,Her amber treffes negligently gay.Collected now her rofy hand they fill ,And, gently wrung, the pearly dews diftil .The fongful zephyrs, and the laughing hours,6065Breathe ſweet; and ftrew her opening way with flowers.The chattering fwallows leave their nefted care,Each promifing return with plenteous fare.So the fond fwain, who to the market hies,Stills, with big hopes, his infant's tender cries.Yonder two turtles, o'er their callow brood,Hang hovering, ere they feek their guiltless food.70FondlyTHE WANDERER, CANTO IV. 49Fondly they bill . Now to their morning care,Like our first parents, part the amorous pair:But ah!-a pair no more!-With ſpreading wings, 75From the high-founding cliff a vulture ſprings;Steady he fails along th' aerial grey,Swoops down, and bears yon timorous dove away.Start we, who worſe than vultures, Nimrods find,Men meditating prey on human kind?80Wild beasts to gloomy dens repace their way,Where their couch'd young demand the flaughter'dprey.85Rooks, from their nodding nefts, black- fwarming fly,And, in hoarfe uproar, tell the fowler nigh.Now, in his tabernacle rouz'd, the funIs warn'd the blue ætherial fteep to run.While on his couch of floating jaſper laid,From his bright eye Sleep calls the dewy fhade.The cryſtal dome tranfparent pillars raiſe,Whence, beam'd from fapphires, living azure plays: 90The liquid floor, in-wrought with pearls divine,Where all his labours in moſaic fhine.His coronet, a cloud of filver-white;His robe with unconfuming crimson bright,Varied with gems, all heaven's collected ftore!While his loofe locks defcend , a golden fhower.If to his fteps compar'd, we tardy findThe Grecian racers, who outftript the wind,Fleet to the glowing race behold him ſtart!His quickening eyes a quivering radiance dart,E95100And,50 SAVAGE'SPOEM S.And, while this laft nocturnal flag is furl'd,Swift into life and motion look the world. IThe fun- flower now averts her blooming cheekFrom west, to view his eaftern luftre break.What gay, creative power his prefence brings! 105Hills, lawns, lakes, villages! -the face of things,All night beneath fucceffive fhadows mifs'd, AInftant begins in colours to exift:But abfent thefe from fons of riot keep,Loft in impure, unmeditating fleep.T'unlock his fence, the new- rifen fwain prepares,And ere forth- driven recounts his fleecy cares;When, lo! an ambuſh'd wolf, with hunger bold,Springs at the prey, and fierce invades the fold!But by the paftor not in vain defied,Like our arch foe by fome celeſtial guide.Spread on yon rock the fea- calf I ſurvey:Bafk'd in the fun, his ſkin reflects the day.He fees yon tower- like ſhip the waves divide,And flips again beneath the glaffy tide.110115120The watery herbs, and ſhrubs, and vines, and flowers,Rear their bent heads, o'ercharg'd with nightly ſhowers.Hail, glorious fun! to whofe attractive fires,The waken'd, vegetative life aſpires!The juices, wrought by thy directive force, 125Through plants, and trees, perform their genial courſe,Extend in root, with bark unyielding bindThe hearted trunk; or weave the branching rind;Expand in leaves, in flowery bloffoms ſhoot,Bleed in rich gums, and fwell in ripen'd fruit. 130FromTHE WANDERER, CANTO IV. 51135From Thee, bright, univerfal Power! beganInstinct in brute, and generous love in man.Talk'd I of love? -Yon fwain, with amorous air,Soft fwells his pipe, to charm the rural fair.She milks the flocks; then , liftening as he plays,Steals, in the running brook, a conscious gaze.The trout, that deep, in winter, ooz'd remains,Up-fprings, and funward turns its crimson ftains.The tenants of the warren, vainly chac'd;Now lur'd to ambient fields for green repaſt,Seek their finall vaulted labyrinths in vain;Entangling nets betray the ſkipping train;Red maffacres through their republic fly,And heaps on heaps by ruthleſs ſpaniels die.140The fisher, who the lonely beech has ftray'd, 145And all the live- long night his net- work spread,Drags in, and bears the loaded ſnare away;Where flounce, deceiv'd, th' expiring finny prey.Near Neptune's temple ( Neptune's now no more) ,Whoſe ſtatue plants a trident on the ſhore,Infportive rings the generous dolphins wind,And eye, and think the image hunan- kind:Dear, pleafing friendship! -See! the pile commandsThe vale, and grim at Superſtition ſtands!150Time's hand there leaves its print of moffy green, 155With hollows, carv'd for fnakes, and birds obſcene.O Gibbs, whofe art the folemn fane can raiſe,Where GOD delights to dwell, and man to praiſe;When moulder'd thus the column falls away,Like fome great prince majeſtic in decay;E 2160When52 SAVAGE'SPOEMS.When Ignorance and Scorn the ground ſhall tread,Where Wildom tutor'd, and Devotion pray'd;Where ſhall thy pompous work our wonder claim;What, but the Mufe alone, preferve thy name?The fun fhines,, broken, through yon arch that rearsThis once- round fabric, half- depriv'd by years,Which rofe a ftately colonnade, and crown'dEncircling pillars now unfaithful found;In fragments, thefe the fall of thoſe forebode,Which, nodding, juft up- heave theircrumbling load.High, on yon column , which has batter'd ſtood,Like fome ftripp'd cak, the grandeur of the wood,The fork inhabits her aerial neft;By her are liberty and peace careft;She flies the realms that own defpotic kings,And only fpreads o'er free- born ftates her wings.The roof is now the daw's, or raven's haunt,And loathfome toads in the dark entrance pant;Or fnakes, that lurk to fnap the heedleſs fly,And fated bird, that oft comes fluttering by.An aqueduct acrofs yon vale is laid,Its channel through a ruin'd arch betray'd;Whirl'd down a ſteep, it flies with torrent-force,Flaſhes, and roars , and plows a devious courfe.175180Attracted mifts a golden cloud commence,While through high- colour'd air ftrike rays intenſe.Betwixt two points, which yon fteep mountains fhow,Lies a mild bay, to which kind breezes flow .Beneath a grotto, arch'd for calm retreat,185.Leads lengthening in the rock-Be this my feat. 190 HeatTHE WANDERER, CANTO IV. 53Heat never enters here; but Coolness reignsO'er zephyrs, and diftilling, watery veins.Secluded now I trace th' inftructive page,And live o'er fcenes of many a backward age;Through days, months, years, through time's whole courfe I run,And prefent ftand where time itſelf begun.195200Ye mighty Dead, of juſt, diſtinguiſh'd fame,Your thoughts, ( ye bright inſtructors! ) here I claim.Here ancient knowledge opens nature's ſprings;Here truths hiftoric give the hearts of kings.Hence contemplation learns white hours to find,And labours virtue on th' attentive mind:O lov'd retreat! thy joys content beftow,Nor guilt, nor fhame, nor fharp repentance know.What the fifth Charles long aim'd in power to fee, 205That happineſs he found referv'd in thee.Now let me change the page-- Here Tully weeps,While in death's icy arms his Tullia fleeps,His daughter dear! —Retir'd I ſee him mourn,By all the frenzy now of anguiſh torn .Wild his complaint! Nor fweeter Sorrow's ftrains,When Singer for Alexis loft complains.Each friend condoles, expoftulates, reproves;More than a father raving Tully loves;Or Salluft cenfures thus! -Unheeding blame,He ſchemes a temple to his Tullia's name.Thus o'er myHermit once did grief prevail,Thus rofe Olympia's tomb, his moving tale,E 3210215The54 SAVAGE'S POEM S.1The fighs, tears, frantic ſtarts, that baniſh reſt,And all the bursting forrows of his breaſt. 220But hark! a fudden power attunes the air!Th'inchanting ſound enamour'd breezes bear;Now low, now high, they fink, or lift the fong,Which the cave echoes ſweet, and ſweet the creeks prolong.1 liften'd, gaz'd, when, wondrous to behold! 225From ocean fteam'd, a vapour gathering roll'd:A blue, round ſpot on the mid- roof it came,Spread broad, and redden'd into dazzling flame.Full- orb'd it fhone, and dimm'd the fwimming fight,While doubling objects danc'd with darkling light. 230Amaz'd I ftood! -amaz'd I ſtill remain!What earthly power this wonder can explain?Gradual, at length , the luftre dies away:My eyes reftor'd, a mortal form furvey.MyHermit-friend! ' Tis he. -All hail! ( he cries ) 235I fee, and would alleviate, thy furprize.240The vanish'd meteor was heaven's meffa*ge meant,To warn thee hence: I knew the high intent.Hear then in this fequefter'd cave retir'd,Departed faints converſe with men inſpired .'Tis facred ground; nor can thy mind endure,Yet unprepar'd, an intercourſe ſo pure.Quick let us hence. -And now extend thy viewsO'er yonder lawn; there find the heaven- born Mufe!Or feek her, where the trufts her tuneful taleTo the mid, filent wood, or vocal vale;245WhereTHE WANDERER, CANTO IV. 55Where trees half check the light with trembling ſhades,Clofe in deep glooms, or open clear in glades;Or where furrounding viſtas far defcend,The landſcape varied at each leffening end;She, only fhe can mortal thought refine,And raife thy voice to vifitants divine.250CAN TО V.E left the cave.WE Be Fear (faid I ) defy'd!Virtue (for thou art Virtue) is my guide.By time- worn steps a fteep afcent we gain,Whofe fummit yields a profpect o'er the plain.There, bench'd with turf, an oak our feat extends, 5Whofe top a verdant, branch'd pavilion bends.Viftas, with leaves, diverfify the ſcene,Some pale, fome brown, and fome of lively green .Now, from the full - grown day a beamy ſhowerGleams on the lake, and gilds each gloffy flower.Gay infects fparkle in the genial blaze,Various as light, and countleſs as its rays:They dance on every ftream, and pictur'd play,Till, by the watery racer, fnatch'd away.10Now,from yonrange ofrocks, ftrong rays rebound, 15Doubling the day on flowery plains around:King- cups beneath far- ftriking colours glance,Bright as th' etherial glows the green expanſe.Gems of the field! -the topaz charms the fight,Like thefe, effulging yellow ftreams of light.E 420From56 SAVAGES POEMS.From the fame rocks, fall rills with foften'd force,Meet in yon mead, and well a river's fource.Through her clear channel, fhine her finny fhoals,O'er fands, like gold, the liquid cryſtal rolls .Dimm'd in yon coarfer moor, her charms decay,And ſhape, through ruffling reeds, a ruffled way.Near willows fhort and buſhy ſhadows throw:Now loft, ſhe ſeems through nether tracts to flow;Yet, at yon point, winds out in filver ftate,Like Virtue from a labyrinth of fate.2530In lengthening rows, prone from the mountains, runThe flocks their fleeces glistening in the fun;

Herftreams theyfeek, and, ' twixt her neighbouring trees,Recline in various attitudes of eaſe.Where the herds fip, the little fcaly fry,Swift from the fhore, in fcattering myriads fly.Each livery'd cloud, that round th' horizon glows,Shifts in odd fcenes, like earth, from whence it rofe.The bee hums wanton in yon jaſmine bower,And circling fettles, and defpoils the flower.Melodious there the plumy ſongſters meet,And call charm'd Echo from her arch'd retreat.Neat polish'd manfions rife in profpect gay;Time-batter'd towers frown awful in decay;3540The fun plays glittering on the rocks and ſpires, 45And the lawn lightens with reflected fires.Here Mirth, and Fancy's wanton train advance,And to light meaſures turn the fwimming dance.Sweet, flow-pac'd Melancholy next appears,Pompous in grief, and eloquent of tears. 50 HereTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 57Here Meditation fhines, in azure dreft,All-ftarr'd with gems: a fun adorns her creft.Religion, to whofe lifted, raptur'd eyesSeraphic hofts defcend from opening ſkies;Beauty, who fways the heart, and charms the fight; 55Whofe tongueis muſic, and whoſe ſmile delight;Whofe brow is majefty; whoſe boſom peace;"Who bade creation be, and chaos ceaſe;60 Whofe breath perfumes the ſpring; whofe eye divineKindled the fun, and gave its light to ſhine.Here, in thy likenefs, fair Ophelia, * feen ,She throws kind luftre o'er th' enliven'd green.Next her Deſcription , rob'd in various hues,Invites attention from the penfive Muſe!The Muſe -ſhe comes! refin'd the Paſſions wait, 65And Precept, ever winning, wife, and great.The Mufe! a thouſand ſpirits wing the air(Once men, who made like her mankind their care):Inamour'd round her prefs th' infpiring throng,And ſwell to ecftacy her folemn ſong. 70Thus in the dame each nobler grace we find ,Fair Wortley's angel- accent, eyes , and mind.Whether herfight the dew- bright dawn furveys,The noon's dry heat, or evening's temper'd rays,The hours of ftorm , or calm, the gleby ground, 75The coral'd fea, gem'd rock, or ſky profound,ARaphael's fancy animates each line,Each image ftrikes with energy divine;

• Mrs. Oldfield .

Bacon,58 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Bacon and Newton in her thoughts confpire;Nor fweeter than her voice is Handel's lyre.My Hermit thus . She beckons us away:Oh, let us fwift the high beheft obey!80Nowthrougha lane, which mingling tracts have croft,The way unequal, and the landſcape loſt,We rove. The warblers lively tunes eflay,The lark on wing, the linnet on the spray,While mufic trembles in their fongful throats,The bullfinch whiftles foft his flute- like notes.The bolder blackbird ſwells fonorous lays;The varying thruſh commands a tuneful maze;Each a wild length of melody purſues;8590While the foft- murmuring, amorous wood - dove coos.And, when in fpring theſe melting mixtures flow,The cuckoo fends her unifon of woe.But as ſmooth ſeas are furrow'd by a ſtorm;As troubles all our tranquil joys deform;So, loud through air, unwelcome noifes found,And harmony's at once, in difcord, drown'd.From yon dark cyprefs, croaks the raven's cry;As diffonant the daw, jay, chattering pie:The clamorous crows abandon'd carnage feek,And the harsh owl ſhrills out a ſharpening ſhriek .At the lane's end a high- lath'd gate's prefer'd,To bar the trefpaſs of a vagrant herd.Faft by, a meagre mendicant we find,Whoſe ruffet rags hang fluttering in the wind:Years bow his back , a ſtaff ſupports his tread,And foft white hairs fhade thin his palfy'd head.W95100105PoorTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 59Poor wretch! -Is this for charity his haunt?115120He meets the frequent flight, and ruthleſs taunt. 110On flaves of guilt oft fmiles the fquandering peer;But paffing knows not common bounty here.Vain thing! in what doft thou ſuperior ſhine?His our first fire: what race more ancient thine?Lefs backward trac'd , he may his lineage drawFrom men, whofe influence kept the world in awe:Whoſe worthless fons, like thee, perchance confum'dTheir ample ſtore, their line to want was doom'd.So thine may perish, by the courſe of things,While his, from beggars , re- afcend to kings.Now, lazar, as thy hardships I peruſe,On my own ſtate instructed would I muſe.When I view greatneſs, I my lot lament;Compar'd to thee, I ſnatch ſupreme content.I might have felt, did heaven not gracious deal,Afate, which I must mourn to fee thee feel .But foft! the cripple our approach deſcries,And to the gate, though weak, officious hies.I ſpring preventive, and unbar the way,Then, turning, with a ſmile of pity, fay,125130Here, friend!-this little copper alms receive,Inftance of will, without the power to give.Hermit, if here with pity we reflect,135How muſt we grieve, when learning meets neglect?When God-like fouls endure a mean reſtraint;When generous will is curb'd by tyrant want?He truly feels what to diſtreſs belongs,Who to his private, adds a people's wrongs;Merit's60 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Merit's a mark, at which difgrace is thrown,And every injur'd virtue is his own . 149Such their own pangs with patience here endure,Yet there weep wounds, they are denied to cure;Thus rich in poverty, thus humbly great,And, though deprefs'd, fuperior to their fate.Minions in power, and miſers, ' mid their ſtore,Are mean in greatneſs, and in plenty poor.What'spower, orwealth? Were they notform'dfor aid,A fpring for virtue, and from wrongs a fhade?In power we ſavage tyranny behold,And wily avarice owns polluted gold.145150From golden fands her pride could Libya raiſe,Could the, who ſpreads no paſture, claim our praiſe?Loath'd were her wealth, where rabid monfters breed;Where ferpents, pamper'd on her venom , feed,No fheltery trees invite the Wanderer's eye,No fruits, no grain, no gums, her tracts fupply;On her vaſt wilds no lovely proſpects run;But all lies barren, though beneath the fun.155My Herinit thus. I know thy foul believes,'Tis hard vice triumphs, and that virtue grieves; 160Yet oft affliction purifies the mind,Kind benefits oft flow from means unkind.Were the whole known, that we uncouth fuppofe,Doubtless, would beauteous fymmetry diſcloſe.The naked cliff, that fingly rough remains,In profpect dignifies the fertile plains;Lead-colour'd clouds, in fcattering fragments feen,Shew, thoughin broken views, the blue ferene.165SevereTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 61Severe diftreffes induſtry inſpire;Thus captives oft excelling arts acquire,And boldly ſtruggle through a ſtate of fhame,To life, cafe, plenty, liberty, and fame.Sword-law has often Europe's balance gain'd,And one red victory years of peace maintain'd.170Wepass through want to wealth, through diſmal ftrife,To calm content, through death to endleſs life.Libya thou nam'ft-Let Afric's waſtes appearCurft by thofe heats, that fructify the year;Yet the fame funs her orange-groves befriend,Where clustering globes in fhining rows depend. 180Here when fierce beams o'er withering plants are roll'd,There the green fruit feems ripen'd into gold.Ev'n ſcenes that ſtrike with terrible furprize,Still prove a God, juſt , merciful, and wiſe.Şad wintery blafts, that ftrip the autumn, bring 185The milder beauties of a flowery, fpring.Ye fulphurous fires in jaggy lightnings break!Ye thunders rattle, and ye nations ſhake!Ye ftorms of riving flame the foreft tear!Deep crack the rocks! rent trees be whirl'd in air! 190Reft at a ſtroke, fome ſtately fane we'll mourn;Her tombs wide- ſhatter'd, and her dead up- torn;-Were noxious fpirits not from caverns drawn,Rack'd earth would ſoon in gulfs enormous yawn:Then all were loft! -Or would we floating view 195The baleful cloud, there would deftruction brew;Plague, fever, frenzy, cloſe- engendering lie,Till theſe red ruptures clear the fullied ſky.Now62 SAVAGE'S POEM S.200Now a field opens to enlarge my thought,In parcel'd tracts to various ufes wrought.Here hardening ripenefs the first blooms behold,There the laft bloffoms ſpring- like pride unfold .Here fwelling peas on leafy ſtalks are feen,Mix'd flowers of red and azure fhine between;Whofe weaving beauties, heighten'd by the fun, 205In colour'd lanes along the furrows run .There the next produce of a genial fhower,The beans fresh - bloffoms in a ſpeckled flower;Whofe morning dews, when to the fun refign'd,With undulating fweets embalm the wind.Now daify plats of clover fquare the plain,And part the bearded from the beardlefs grain .There fibrous flax with verdure binds the field,Which on the loom ſhall art- ſpun labours yield.The mulberry, in fair fummer- green array'd,Full in the midſt ſtarts up, a filky fhade.For human tafte the rich - ftain'd fruitage bleedsThe leaf the filk- emitting reptile feeds.

As fwans their down, as flocks their fleeces leave,Here worms for man their gloffy entrails weave.Hence, to adorn the fair, in texture gay,210215220Sprigs, fruits, and flowers on figur'd veftments play:But Induſtry prepares them oft to pleaſeThe guilty pride of vain, luxuriant eaſe.Now frequent, dufty gales offenfive blow,And o'er my fight a tranfient blindneſs throw.Windward we ſhift. Near down th' etherial fteep,The lamp of day hangs hovering o'er the deep.225DuaTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 63Dun fhades, in rocky fhapes up æther roll'd,Project long, fhaggy points, deep - ting'd with gold. 230Others take faint th ' unripen'd cherry's die,And paint amusing landſcapes on the eye.Their blue-veil'd yellow, through a ſky ferène,In fwelling mixture forms a floating green.Streak'd through white clouds a mild vermillion fhines,And the breeze freshens, as the heat declines.Yon crooked, funny roads change rifing viewsFrom brown, to ſandy- red, and chalky hues.One mingled ſcene another quick fucceeds,Men, chariots, teams, yok'd ſteers, and prancingfteeds, 240Which climb, defcend, and, as loud whips refound,Stretch, fweat, and fmoke along unequal ground.On winding Thames, reflecting radiant beams,When boats, ſhips , barges mark the roughen'd ſtreams,This way, and that, they different points purſue; 245So mix the motions, and fo ſhifts the view,While thus we throw around our gladden'd eyes,The gifts of heaven in gay profufion rife;Trees rich with gums, and fruits; with jewels rocks;Plains with flowers, herbs, and plants, and beeves,and flocks; 250Mountains with mines; with oak, and cedar, woods;Quarries with marble, and with fish the floods.In darkening fpots, mid fields of various dies,Tilth new-v- manur'd, or naked fallow lies .Near uplands fertile pride enclos'd diſplay,The green grafs yellowing into fcentful hay,255And64 SAVAGE'S POEM S.And thick-fet hedges fence the full -ear'd corn,And berries blacken on the virid thorn.Mark in yon heath oppos'd the cultur'd fcene,Wild thyme, pale box, and firs of darker green. 260The native ftrawberry red-ripening grows,By nettles guarded, as by thorns the rofe.There nightingales in unprun'd copfes build,In fhaggy furzes lies the hare conceal'd.270'Twixt ferns and thiftles, unfown flowers amufe, 265And form a lucid chace of various hues;Many half-f-grey with duft confus'd they lie,Scent the rich year, and lead the wandering eye.Contemplative, we tread the flowery plain,The Mufe preceding with her heavenly train.When, lo! the mendicant, fo late behind,Strange view! now journeying in our front we find!And yet a view, more ftrange, our heed demands;Touch'd by the Mufe's wand transform'd he ftands.O'er ſkin late wrinkled, inftant beauty fpreads; 275The late-dimm'd eye, a vivid luftre ſheds;3Hairs, once ſo thin, now graceful locks decline;And rags now chang'd, in regal veſtments fhine .The Hermit thus. In him the BARD behold,Once feen by midnight's lamp in winter's cold; 280The BARD, whofe want fo multiplied his woes,He funk a mortal, and a feraph rofe.See! -where thofe ftately yew- trees darkling grow,And, waving o'er yon graves, brown horrows throw,Scornful he points-there, o'er his facred duft,Arife the ſculptur'd tomb, and labour'd buſt.285VainTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 651Vain pomp! beſtow'd by oſtentatious pride,Whoto a life of want relief deny'd .But thus the BARD . Are thefe the gifts ofſtate?Gifts unreceiv'd! -Thefe? Ye ungenerous great! 290How was I treated when in life forlorn?My claim your pity; but my lot your fcorn.Why were my ftudious hours oppos'd by need?In me did poverty from guilt proceed?Did I contemporary authors wrong,295And deem their worth, but as they priz'd my ſong?Did I footh vice, or venal ſtrokes betray,In the low-purpos'd, loud polemic fray?Did e'er my verfe immodeft warmth contain ,Or, once-licentious, heavenly truths profane?Never. And yet when envy funk my name,Who call'd my fhadow'd merit into fame?When, undeferv'd, a prifon's grate I faw,300What hand redeem'd me from the wrefted law?Who cloath'd me naked, or when hungry fed? 305Why crush'd the living? Why extoll'd the dead?-But foreign languages adopt my lays,And diftant nations fhame you into praiſe.Why should unreliſh'd wit theſe honours cauſe?Cuſtom, not knowledge, dictates your applaufe: 310Or think you thus a felf-renown to raiſe,And mingle your vain- glories with my bays?Be your's the mouldering tomb! Be mine the layImmortal!-Thus he fcoffs the pomp away.Though words like thefe unletter'd pride impeach, 315To the meek heart he turns with milder fpeech.F Though66 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Though now a feraph, oft he deigns to wearThe face of human friendſhip, oft of care;To walk difguis'd an object of relief,A learn'd, good man, long exercis'd in grief;Forlorn, a friendlefs orphan oft to roam,Craving fome kind, fome hoſpitable home;Or, like Ulyffes , a low lazar ftand;320Befeeching Pity's eye and Bounty's hand;Or, like Ulyffes , royal aid request, 325Wandering from court to court, a king diſtreſt.Thus varying ſhapes, the feeming fon of woeEyes the cold heart, and hearts that generous glow:Then to the Mufe relates each lordly name,Who deals impartial infamy and fame. 330Oft, as when man in mortal ſtate deprefs'd,His lays taught virtue, which his life confefs'd,He now forms vifionary ſcenes below,Infpiring patience in the heart of woe;Patience, that foftens every fad extreme, 335That cafts through dungeon- glooms a chearful gleam,Difarms diſeaſe of pain , mocks flander's ſting,And ftrips of terrors the terrific king,'Gainft Want, a fourer foe, its fuccour lends,And ſmiling fees th ' ingratitude of friends. 340Nor are theſe taſks to him alone confign'd.Millions invifible befriend mankind.When watery ſtructures, feen crofs heaven t'afcend,Arch above arch in radiant order bend,-Fancy beholds, adown each glittering fide, 345Myriads of miffionary ſeraphs glide;SheTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 67She fees good angels genial fhowers beſtowFrom the red convex of the dewy bow.They fmile1upon the fwain: He views the prize;Then grateful bends, to blefs the bounteous fkies. 350Some winds collect , and fend propitious galesOft where Britannia's navy ſpreads her fails;There ever wafting, on the breath of fame,Unequal'd glory in her Sovereign's name.360Some teach young zephyrs vernal ſweets to bear, 355And float the balmy health on ambient air;Zephyrs, that oft, where lovers listening lie,Along the grove in melting mufic die,And in lone caves to minds poetic rollSeraphic whispers, that abftra&t the foul.Some range the colours , as they parted fly,Clear-pointed to the philofophic eye;The flaming red , that pains the dwelling gaze;The ftainlefs, lightfome yellow's gilding rays;The clouded orange, that betwixt them glows, 365And to kind mixture tawny luftre owes;All- chearing green , that gives the fpring its dye;The bright, tranſparent blue, that robes the ſky;And indico, which fhaded light displays;And violet, which in the view decays.Parental hues , whence others all proceed;An ever-mingling, changeful, countless breed;Unravel'd, variegated, lines of light,When blended, dazzling in promifcuous white.Oft through thefe bows departed ſpirits range,New to the ſkies, admiring at their change;F 2370375Each68 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Each mind a void, as when firſt born to earth,Behold a fecond blank in fecond birth;Then, as yon ſeraph- bard fram'd hearts below,Each fees him here tranſcendent knowledge ſhow, 380New faints he tutors into truth refin'd,And tunes to rapturous love the new-form'd mind.He fwells the lyre, whoſe loud , melodious laysCall high Hofannas from the voice of praiſe;Though one bad age fuch poefy could wrong,Now worlds around retentive roll the fong:Now God's high throne the full -voic'd raptures gain,Celeſtial hoſts returning ſtrain for ſtrain .385390395Thus he, who once knew want without relief,Sees joys reſulting from well- ſuffering grief.Hark! while we talk, a diſtant pattering rainRefounds! -See! up the broad ætherial plainShoots the bright bow! -The feraph flits away;The Mufe, the Graces from our view decay.Behind yon weſtern hill the globe of lightDrops fudden; faft- purſued by fades of night.Yon graves from winter- fcenes to mind recallRebellion's council, and rebellion's fall.What fiends in fulphurous, car- like clouds up - flew!What midnight treafon glar'd beneath their view! 400And now the traitors rear their Babel- ſchemes,Big, and more big, ftupendous miſchief feems;But Juftice, rouz'd, fuperior ftrength employs,Their fcheme wide flatters, and their hope deſtroys.Diſcord the wills; the miffile ruin flies;Sudden, unnatural debates arife,405DoubtTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 69410Doubt, mutual jealouſy, and dumb diſguſt ,Dark-hinted mutterings, and avow'd diſtruſt;To fecret ferment is each heart refign'd;Sufpicion hovers in each clouded mind;They jar, accus'd accuſe, revil'd revile,And wrath to wrath oppoſe, and guile to guile;Wrangling they part, themſelves themſelves betray;Each dire device ftarts naked into day;They feel confufion in the van with fear;They feel the king of terrors in the rear.Of theſe were three by different motives fired,Ambition one, and one Revenge inſpired.The third, O Mammon, was thy meaner flave;Thou idol feldom of the great and brave!Florio, whofe life was one continued feaſt,His wealth diminiſh'd , and his debts increas'd,Vain pomp, and equipage, his low defires,Who ne'er to intellectual blifs afpires;He, to repair by vice what vice has broke,415420425Durft with bold treaſons judgment's rod provoke.His ftrength of mind, by luxury half diffolv'd,Ill brooks the woe, where deep he ſtands involv'd.He weeps, ftamps wild, and to and fro now flies;Now wrings his hands, and fends unmanly cries, 439Arraigns his judge, affirms unjuſt he bleeds ,And now recants, and now for mercy pleads;Now blames affociates, raves with inward ftrife,Upbraids himself; then thinks alone on life.He rolls red fwelling, tearful eyes around,Sore fmites his breast, and finks upon the ground,435F 3He70 SAVAGE'SPOEM S.He wails, he quite deſponds , convulfive lies ,Shrinks from the fancied axe, and thinks he dies:Revives, with hope enquires, ftops ſhort with fear,Entreats ev'n flattery, nor the worst will hear;The worst, alas, his doom! -What friend replies?Each speaks with fhaking head, and down caft eyes.One filence breaks, then paufes , drops a tear;440Nor hope affords, nor quite confirms his fear;But what kind friendſhip part referves unknown 445Comes thundering in his keeper's furly tone.Enough ftruck through and through, in ghaftly ftare,He ftands transfix'd, the flatue of despair;Nor aught of life, nor aught of death he knows,Till thought returns, and brings return of woes: 450.Nowpours a ftorm of grief in guſhing ſtreams:That paft- collected in himſelf he ſeems,And with forc'd fmile retires- His latent thoughtDark, horrid, as the priſon's difmal vault.If with himſelf at variance ever- wild,With angry heaven how ſtands he reconcil'd?No penitential oriſons arife;Nay, he obtefts the juftice of the ſkies.Not for his guilt, for fentenc'd life he moans;455His chains rough- clanking to difcordant groans, 460To bars harfh-grating, heavy- creaking doors,Hoarfe-echoing walls, and hollow- ringing floors,To thoughts more diffonant, far, far leſs kind ,One anarchy, one chaos of the mind .At length, fatigued with grief, on earth he lies: 465Butfoon as fleep weighs down th' unwilling eyes,GladTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 71470475Glad liberty appears, no damps annoy,Treafon fucceeds, and all transforms to joy.Proud palaces their glittering ftores diſplay:Gain he purſues, and rapine leads the way.Whatgold! What gems! -he ſtrains to feize the prize;Quick from his touch diffolv'd, a cloud it flies.Conſcious he cries -and muft I wake to weep?Ah, yet return, return , delufive fleep!Sleep comes; but liberty no more: —Unkind,The dungeon - glooms hang heavy on his mind.Shrill winds are heard , and howling dæmons call;Wide-flying portals feem unhing'd to fall:Then cloſe with fudden claps; a dreadful din!He ftarts, wakes, ftorms, and all is hell within.His genius flies-reflects he now on prayer?Alas! bad fpirits turn thofe thoughts to air.What ſhall he next? What, ftraight relinquifh breath,To bar a public, juft, though ſhameful death?Rafh, horrid thought! yet now afraid to live,Murderous he strikes- may heaven the deed forgive!Why had he thus falſe ſpirit to rebel?And why not fortitude to fuffer well?Were his fuccefs, how terrible the blow!480485And it recoils on him eternal woe.Heaven this affliction then for mercy meant,490That a good end might cloſe a life mifpent.Where no kind lips the hallow'd dirge refound,Far from the compaſs of yon facred ground;Full in the centre of three meeting ways,Stak'd through he lies .-Warn'd let the wicked gaze.F 4495Near72 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Near yonder fane, where mifery fleeps in peace,Whoſe ſpire faſt- leifens , as theſe ſhades increaſe,Left to the north, whence oft brew'd tempefts roll,Tempefts, dire emblems, Cofmo, of thy foul! 500There mark that Coſmo, much for guile renown'd!His grave by unbid plants of poifon crown'd.When out of power, through him the public good,So ftrong his factious tribe, ſuſpended ſtood.In power, vindictive actions were his aim,And patriots periſh'd by th' ungenerous flame.If the beſt cauſe he in the fenate chofe,505Ev'n right in him from fome wrong motive rofe.The bad he loath'd, and would the weak deſpiſe;Yet courted for dark ends , and fhunn'd the wife. 510When ill his purpoſe, eloquent his ſtrain;His malice had a look, and voice humane.His fmile, the fignal of fome vile intent,Aprivate poniard, or empoifon'd fcent;Proud, yet to popular applauſe a ſlave;No friend he honour'd, and no foe forgave.His boons unfrequent, or unjust to needThe hire of guilt, of infamy the meed:But, if they chanc'd on learned worth to fall,

515Bounty in him was oftentation all .520No true benevolence his thought fublimes,His nobleft actions are illuftrious crimes.Fine parts, which virtue might have rank'd with fame,Enhance his guilt, and magnify his ſhame.When parts in probity in man combine, 525In wisdom's eye, how charming muſt he ſhine!LetTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 73530Let him, lefs happy, truth at leaſt impart,And what he wants in genius bear in heart.Coſmo, as death draws nigh, no more concealsThat ſtorm of paffion, which his nature feels:He feels much fear, more anger, and moſt pride;But pride and anger make all fear fubfide.Dauntless he meets at length untimely fate;A deſperate ſpirit! rather fierce, than great.Darkling he glides along the dreary coaſt ,Afullen, wandering, felf- tormenting ghoft.Where veiny marble dignifies the ground,With emblem fair in fculpture rifing round,Juft where a croffing, lengthening aiſle we find,Full eaft; whence God returns to judge mankind, 540Once-lov'd Horatio fleeps, a mind elate!Lamented ſhade, ambition was thy fate.Ev'n angels, wondering, oft his worth furvey'd;Behold a man, like one of us! they faid.535Straight heard the Furies, and with envy glar'd, 545And to precipitate his fall prepar'd First Avarice came. In vain Self-love ſhe preſs'd;The poor he pity'd ftill, and ftill redrefs'd:Learning was his , and knowledge to commend,Of arts a patron, and of want a friend. 550Next came Revenge: but her effay how vain!Not hate, nor envy, in his heart remain.No previous malice could his mind engage,Malice the mother of vindictive rage.No-from his life his foes might learn to live;He held it ſtill a triumph to forgive.555At74 SAVAGE'S POEMS.At length Ambition urg'd his country's weal,Affuming the fair look of public Zeal;Still in his breaft ſo generous glow'd the flame,The vice, when there, a virtue half became.His pitying eye ſaw millions in diſtreſs,He deem'd it godlike to have power to bleſs:Thus, when unguarded, treaſon ſtain'd him o'er;And virtue and content were then no more.560

But when to death by rigorous juſtice doom'd, 565

His genuine fpirit ſaint- like ſtate reſum'd,Oft from foft penitence diftill'd a tear;Oft hope in heavenly mercy lighten'd fear;.Oft would a drop from ſtruggling nature fall ,Andthen a fmile of patience brighten all.He feeks in heaven a friend, nor feeks in vain.His guardian angel ſwift defcends again;And refolution thus befpeaks a mind,Not fcorning life, yet all to death refign'd;Ye chains, fit only to reftrain the willOf common, defperate veterans in ill,Though rankling on my limbs ye lie, declare,Did e'er my rifing foul your preffure wear?No!-free as liberty, and quick as light,Toworlds remote ſhe takes unbounded flight.Ye dungeon- glooms, that dim corporeal eyes,Could ye once blot her proſpect of the ſkies?No!-from her clearer fight ye fled away,Like error, pierc'd by truth's refiftlefs ray.Ye walls, that witneſs my repentant moan!Ye echoes, that to midnight forrows groan!570575580585DoTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 75590Do I, in wrath, to you of fate complain?Or once betray fear's moſt inglorious pain?No -Hail, twice hail then, ignominious death!Behold how willing glides my parting breath!Far greater, better far-ay, far indeed!Like me, have fuffer'd, and like me will bleed.Apoftles, patriarchs, prophets, martyrs all ,Like me once fell, nor murmur'd at their fall.Shall I, whoſe days, at beft, no ill deſign'd ,Whoſe virtue fhone not, though I lov'd mankind,Shall I, now guilty wretch, fhall I repine?Ah, no! to juſtice let me life refign!595Quick, as a friend, would I embrace my foe!He taught me patience, who first taught me woe; 600But friends are foes, they render woe fevere,For me they wail, from me extort the tear.Not thofe, yet abfent, miffive griefs control;Thefe periods weep, thofe rave, and theſe condole,At entrance fhrieks a friend, with pale furprize; 605Another panting, proftrate, ſpeechleſs lies;One gripes my hand, one fobs upon my breast!Ah, who can bear? -it fhocks, it murders reft!And is it yours, alas! my friends to feel?And is it mine to comfort, mine to heal?Is mine the patience, yours the boſom ſtrife?6гоAh! would raſh love lure back my thoughts to life?Adieu, dear, dangerous mourners! ſwift depart!Ah, fly me! fly!-I tear ye from my heart.Ye faints, whom fears of death could ne'er control,In my last hour compofe, fupport my foul!See76 SAVAGE'S POEM S.See my blood wash repented ſin away!Receive, receive me to eternal day!With words like thefe the deftin'd hero dies,While angels waft his foul to happier ſkies.Diftinction now gives way; yet on we talk,Full darkneſs deepening o'er the formless walk.Night treads not with light ftep the dewy gale,Nor bright-diftends her ſtar- embroider'd veil;Her leaden feet, inclement damps diſtil ,Clouds fhut her face, black winds her vefture fill;An earth-born meteor lights the fable ſkies,Eaſtward it ſhoots, and, funk, forgotten dies .So pride, that rofe from dust to guilty power,Glares out in vain; fo duft fhall pride devour.Fishers, who yonder brink by torches gain,With teethful tridents ftrike the ſcaly train.Like fnakes in eagles' claws, in vain they ſtrive,When heav'd aloft, and quivering yet alive.620625630While here, methought, our time in converſe paſs'd,The moon clouds muffled, and the night wore faft.At prowling wolves was heard the maſtiff's bay,Andthe warn'd mafter's arms forbad the prey!Thus treafon fteels, the patriot thus defcries,Forth ſprings the monarch, and the miſchief flies . 640Paleglow-worms glimmer'd through the depth ofnight,Scattering, like hope through fear, a doubtful light.Lone Philomela tun'd the filent grove,With penfive pleaſure liften'd wakeful Love.Half-dreaming Fancy form'd an angel's tongue, 645And Pain forgot to groan, fo fweet the fung.TheTHE WANDERER, ČANTO V. 77The Night- crone, with the melody alarm'd,650655Nowpaus'd, now liften'd, and awhile was charm'd;But like the man, whofe frequent- ſtubborn willRefifts what kind, feraphic founds inftil,Her heart the love- inſpiring voice repell'd,Her breast with agitating miſchief ſwell'd;Which clos'd her ear, and tempted to deſtroyThe tuneful life, that charms with virtuous joy.Now faft we meaſure back the trackleſs way;Nofriendly ſtars directive beams diſplay.But lo!-a thouſand lights fhoot inftant rays;Yon kindling rock reflects the ſtartling blaze.I ftand aftonish'd-thus the hermit cries:Fear not, but liften with enlarg'd furprize!Still must thefe hours our mutual converfe claim,And ceaſe to echo till Olympia's name;Grots, rivulets, groves, Olympia's name forget,Olympia now no fighing winds repeat.660Can I be mortal, and thofe hours no more,Thofe amorous hours, that plaintive echoes bore?Am I the fame? Ah no! -Behold a mind,Unruffled, firm , exalted, and refin'd!Late months, that made the vernal ſeaſon gay,Saw my health languiſh off in pale decay.No racking pain yet gave diſeaſe a date;No fad, prefa*geful thought preluded fate:Yet number'd were my days- My deſtin'd endNear, and more near-Nay, every fear fufpend!I pafs'd a weary, lingering, fleepless night:Then rofe, to walk in morning's earlieſt light:665670675But$8 SAVAGE'S POEM S.But few my ſteps-a faint, and cheerleſs few!Refreſhment from my flagging fpirits flew.When, low, retir'd beneath a cypreſs fhade,Mylimbs upon a flowery bank I laid,680Soon by foft- creeping, murmuring winds compos'd,Aflumber prefs'd my languid eyes- They clos'd:But clos'd not long-Methought Olympia ſpoke;Thrice loud fhe call'd, and thrice the flumber broke.Iwak'd. Forth- gliding from a neighbouring wood , 685Full in my view the ſhadowy charmer ſtood.Rapturous I started up to clafp the ſhade;690But ſtagger'd, fell, and found my vitals fade:Amantling chillneſs o'er my boſom ſpread,As if that inftant number'd with the dead.Her voice now fent a far, imperfect found,When in a ſwimming trance my pangs were drown'd.Still farther off the call'd-With foft furprize,I turn'd-but void of ftrength, and aid to rife;Short, fhorter, fhorter yet, my breath I drew:Then up my ftruggling foul unburthen'd flew .Thus from a ftate, where fin and grief abide,Heaven fummon'd me to mercy- thus I died .695He faid. Th' aftoniſhment with which I ſtart,Like bolted ice runs fhivering through my heart. 700 /Art thou not mortal then? I cried . Butlo!His raiment lightens, and his features glow!In fhady ringlets falls a length of hair;Embloom'd his afpect fhines, enlarg'd his air.Mild from his eyes enlivening glories beam;Mild on his brow fits majefty fupreme.705BrightTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 79Bright plumes of every dye, that round him flow,Veft, robe, and wings, in varied luftre fhow.He looks, and forward fteps with mien divine;A grace celestial gives him all to ſhine.He ſpeaks - Nature is raviſh'd at the ſound,710The forests move, and ftreams ftand liftening round fThus he. As incorruption I affum'd,As inftant in immortal youth I bloom'd!Renew'd, and chang'd, I felt my vital fprings, 715With different lights difcern'd the form ofthings;To earth my paffions fell like miſts away,And reafon open'd in eternal day.Swifter than thought from world to world I flew,Celeſtial knowledge fhone in every view.My food was truth-what tranſport could I miſs?My proſpect, all infinitude of bliſs.Olympia met me firft, and, fmiling gay,Onward to mercy led the fhining way;As far tranfcendant to her wonted air,As her dear wonted felf to many a fair!In voice, and forin, beauty more beauteous fhows,And harmony ftill more harmonious grows.720725She points out fouls, who taught mefriendship's charms,They gaze, they glow, they fpring into myarms!Well pleas'd, high anceſtors my view command;Patrons and patriots all; a glorious band!Horatio too, by well-born fate refin'd,Shone out white- rob'd with faints, a ſpotleſs mind!What once, below, ambition made him miſs,Humility here gain'd , a life of bliſs!730735Though80 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Though late, let finners then from fin depart!Heaven never yet deſpis'd the contrite heart.Laft fhone, with fweet, exalted luftre grac'd,The SERAPH - BARD , in higheſt order plac'd!Seers, lovers, legiflators, prelates, kings,All raptur'd liften , as he raptur'd fings.Sweetneſs and ſtrength his look and lays employ,Greet fmiles with fmiles, and every joy with joy:Charmful he rofe; his ever- charmful tongueJoy to our fecond hymeneals fung;740745Still as we pafs'd, the bright, celeftial throngHail'd us in focial love, and heavenly fong.Of that no more! my deathless friendſhip fee!I come an Angel to the Mufe and Thee. 750Thefe lights, that vibrate, and promiscuous ſhine,Are emanations all of forms divine.And here the Mufe, though melted from thy gaze,Stands among fpirits, mingling rays with rays.If thou would'ft peace attain, my words attend,The laft, fond words of thy departed friend!True joy's a feraph , that to heaven aſpires,Unhurt it triumphs mid' celeftial choirs.But fhould no cares a mortal ftate moleft,Life were a ftate of ignorance at beſt,Know then, if ills oblige thee to retire,Thoſe ills folemnity of thought infpire.Did not the foul abroad for objects roam,Whence could the learn to call ideas home?Juftly to knowthyfelf, perufe mankind;To know thy God, paint nature on thy mind:755760765WithoutTHE WANDERER, CANTO V. 81Without fuch ſcience of the worldly ſcene,What is retirement? -Empty pride or ſpleen:But with it wiſdom. There fhall cares refine,Render'd by contemplation half- divine.Truft not the frantic, or myfterious guide,Nor ftoop a captive to the ſchoolman's pride.On nature's wonders fix alone thy zeal!They dim not reafon, when they truth reveal;So fhall religion in thy heart endure,From all traditionary falfehood pure;So life make death familiar to thy eye,770775780So fhalt thou live, as thou may'ft learn to die;And, though thou view'ft thy worft oppreffor thrive,From tranfient woe, immortal blifs derive.Farewell Nay, ſtop the parting tear! -I go!But leave the Mufe thy comforter below.He ſaid. Inftant his pinions upward foar,He leffening as they rife, till feen no more.While Contemplation weigh'd the myftic view, 785The lights all vanifli'd, and the viſion flew.G THE[ 82 ]ТНЕ.BASTAR D:INSCRIBED WITH ALL DUE REVERENCE TOMRS. BRETT,ONCE COUNTESS OF MACCLESFIELD." Decet hæc dare dona Novercam. " Ov. Met.P RE FACE.THEHE reader will eafily perceive theſe verſes werebegun, when my heart was gayer than it hasbeen of late; and finished in hours of the deepeſtmelancholy.I hope the world will do me the juſtice to believe,that no part of this flows from any real anger againſtthe Lady, to whom it is infcribed . Whatever undeferved feverities I may have received at her hands,would fhe deal fo candidly as acknowledge truth, ſhevery well knows, by an experience of many years,that I have ever behaved myſelf towards her, likeone who thought it his duty to fupport with patienceall afflictions from that quarter. Indeed, if I had notbeen capable of forgiving a Mother, I muſt havebluſhed to receive pardon myfelf at the hands of mySovereign.Neither,PREFACE. 83Neither, to ſay the truth, were the manner of mybirth all, fhould I have any reafon for complaintWhen I am a little difpofed to a gay turn of thinking,I confider, as I was a Derelict from my cradle, I havethe honour of a lawful claim to the beft protection inEurope. For being a spot of earth, to which nobodypretends a title, I devolve naturally upon the King,as one of the rights of his Royalty.While I prefume to name his Majefty, I look back,with confufion, upon the mercy I have lately experienced; becauſe it is impoffible to remember it , butwith fomething I would fain forget, for the fake offuture peace, and alleviation of my paſt misfortune.I owe my life to the Royal Pity, if a wretch can,with propriety, be faid to live, whofe days are fewerthan his forrows; and to whom death had been but aredemption from mifery.myBut I will fuffer my pardon as my punishment, tillthat life, which has fo gracioufly been given me, fhallbecome confiderable enough not to be ufelefs in hisfervice to whom it was forfeited. Under influence oftheſe ſentiments, with which His Majeſty's great goodnefs has infpired me, I confider my lofs of fortune anddignity as my happineſs; to which, as I am bornwithout ambition, I am thrown from them withoutrepining-Poffefling thofe advantages, my care hadbeen, perhaps, how to enjoy life; by the want ofthem I am taught this nobler leffon, to ftudy how todeferve it.RICHARD SAVAGE.G 2[ 84 ]THE BASTAR D.Ngayer hours, when high my fancy ran,INThe Mufe, exulting, thus her lay began..Bleft be the Baſtard's birth! through wondrous ways,He fhines eccentric like a comet's blaze!No fickly fruit of faint compliance He!He ftampt in nature's mint of ecstacy!He lives to build, not boaft, a generous race:No tenth tranfmitter of a foolish face.His daring hope, no fire's example bounds;His firſt- born lights, no prejudice confounds.He, kindling from within, requires no flame;He glories in a Baftard's glowing name.Born to himself, by no poffeffion led,In freedom fofter'd, and by fortune fed;510Nor guides , nor rules, his fovereign choice control, 15His body independent as his foul;Loos'd to the world's wide range-enjoy'd no aim,Prefcrib'd no duty, and affign'd no name:Nature's unbounded fon, he ftands alone,His heart unbiafs'd, and his mind his own.O Mother, yet no Mother! 'tis to you,My thanks for fuch diftinguiſh'd claims are due.You, unenflav'd to Nature's narrow laws,Warm championefs for freedom's facred cauſe,From all the dry devoirs of blood and line,From ties maternal, moral and divine,2025Diſcharg'dSAVAGE'S POEM S. 8530Difcharg'd my grafping foul; pufh'd me from fhore,And launch'd me into life without an oar.What had I loft, if, conjugally kind,By nature hating, yet by vows confin'd,Untaught the matrimonial bounds to flight,And coldly conſcious of a huſband's right,You had faint- drawn me with a form alone,A lawful lump of life by force your own!Then, while your backward will retrench'd defire, 35And unconcurring ſpirits lent no fire,,I had been born your dull, domeſtic heir,Load of your life, and motive of your care;Perhaps been poorly rich, and meanly great,The flave of pomp, a cypher in the ſtate;Lordly neglectful of a worth unknown,And lumbering in a feat, by chance my own.Far nobler bleffings wait the Baftard's lot;Conceiv'd in rapture, and with fire begot!Strong as neceffity, he ſtarts away,Climbs against wrongs, and brightens into day.Thus unprophetic, lately miſinfpir'd,I fung: Gay fluttering hope, my fancy fir'd;Inly fecure, through conſcious ſcorn of ill,Nor taught by wiſdom, how to balance will,Rafhly deceiv'd, I faw no pits to hun,But thought to purpoſe and to act were one;Heedleſs what pointed cares pervert his way,Whom caution arms not, and whom woes betray;But now, expos'd, and ſhrinking from diftrefs,I fly to shelter, while the tempefts prefs;40455055G 3My86 SAVAGE'S POEM S.My Mufe to grief ` refigns the varying tone,The raptures languiſh, and the numbers groan.O memory! thou foul of joy and pain!Thou actor of our paffions o'er again!Why dost thou aggravate the wretch's woe?Why add continuous fmart to every blow?Few are my joys; alas! how foon forgot!On that kind quarter thou invad’ſt me not:While ſharp and numberleſs my ſorrows fall;Yet thou repeat'ft, and multiply'ſt them all!6065Is chance a guilt? that my difafterous heart,For mifchief never meant, muft ever ſmart?Can felf- defence be fin! -Ah, plead no more!What though no purpos'd malice ftain'd thee o'er? 70Had heaven befriended thy unhappy ſide,75Thou had not been provok'd-Or thou hadst died .Far be the guilt of homefhed blood from allOn whom, unfought, embroiling dangers fall!Still the pale Dead revives, and lives to me,To me through Pity's eye condemn'd to fee.Remembrance veils his rage, but fwells his fate;Griev'd I forgive, and am grown cool too late.Young, and unthoughtful then; who knows, one day,What ripening virtues might have made their way! 80Hemight have liv'd till folly died in fhame,Till kindling wiſdom felt a thirst for fame.He might perhaps his country's friend have prov'd;Both happy, generous , candid, and belov’dHe might have fav'd fome worth, now doom'd to fall;And I, perchance, in him, have murder'd all.O fateTHE BASTARD, 87O fate of late repentance! always vain:Thy remedies but lull undying pain.Where ſhall my hope find reſt?—No Mother's careShielded my infant innocence with prayer:No father's guardian hand my youth maintain'd,Call'd forth my virtues, or from vice reſtrain'd.Is it not thine to fnatch fome powerful arm,Firſt to advance, then ſkreen from future harm?Am I return'd from death, to live in pain?Or would Imperial Pity ſave in vain?Diftruft it not-What blame can mercy find,Which gives at once a life, and rears a mind?Mother, miscall'd, farewell-of foul fevere,This fad reflection yet may force one tear:All I was wretched by to you I ow'd,Alone from ftrangers every comfort flow'd!Loft to the life you gave, your fon no more,And now adopted, who was doom`d before,New-born, I may a nobler Mother claim,But dare not whiſper her immortal name;Supremely lovely, and ferenely great!Majeſtic Mother of a kneeling State!QUEEN of a People's heart, who ne'er beforeAgreed-yet now with one confent adore!One contest yet remains in this defire,Who moſt ſhall give applauſe, where all admire.903095100105110G 4MISCEL-[ 88 ]MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.VER SE SOCCASIONED BYTHE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADYVISCOUNTESS TYRCONNEL'sRECOVERY AT BATH.HERE Thames with pride beholds Augufta's WHEREcharms,And either India pours into her arms;Where Liberty bids honeft arts abound,And pleaſures dance in one eternal round;High-thron'd appears the laughter- loving dame,Goddess of mirth! Euphrofyne her name.Her fmile more cheerful than a vernal morn;All life! all bloom! of Youth and Fancy born.Touch'd into joy, what hearts to her fubmit!She looks her Sire, and ſpeaks her Mother's wit.O'er the gay world the ſweet infpirer reigns;Spleen flies, and Elegance her pomp fuftains.Thee, goddeſs! thee! the fair and young obey;Wealth, Wit, Love, Mufic, all confefs thy fway.510InON LADY TYRCONNEL. 89In the bleak wild ev'n Want by thee is blefs'd,And pamper'd Pride without thee pines for reft.The rich grow richer, while in thee they findThe matchlefs treaſure of a ſmiling mind.Science by thee flows foft in focial eaſe,And virtue , lofing rigour, learns to pleaſe.The goddeſs fummons each illuftrious name,Bids the gay talk , and forms th' amufive game.She, whofe fair throne is fix'd in human fouls,From joy to joy her eye delighted rolls.But where ( the cried) is the, my favorite! fheOf all my race, the dearest far to me!Whofe life's the life of each refin'd delight?She faid-But no Tyrconnel glads her fight.Swift funk her laughing eyes in languid fear;Swift rofe the fwelling figh, and trembling tear.In kind low murmurs all the lofs deplore!Tyrconnel droops, and pleaſure is no more.The goddeſs, filent, paus'd in muſeful air;But Mirth, like Virtue, cannot long deſpair.Celeſtial-hinted thoughts gay hope inſpir'd,Smiling the rofe, and all with hope were fir'd .Where Bath's afcending turrets meet her eyes;Straight wafted on the tepid breeze the flies,She flies, her elder fifter Health to find;She finds her on the mountain- brow reclin'd.Around her birds in earlieſt concert fing;Her cheek the ſemblance of the kindling ſpring;Fresh- tinctur'd like a fummer- evening ſky,And a mild fun fits fmiling in her eye.1520253035Loofeدو SAVAGE'S POEM S.Looſe to the wind her verdant veſtments flow;Her limbs yet-recent from the ſprings below;There oft ſhe bathes, then peaceful ſits ſecure,Where every gale is fragrant, freſh, and pure;Where flowers and herbs their cordial odours blend,And all their balmy virtues faſt aſcend.4559Hail, fifter, hail! (the kindred goddeſs cries)No common fuppliant ftands before your eyes.You, with whoſe living breath the morn is fraught,Fluſh the fair cheek, and point the cheerful thought!Strength, vigour, wit, depriv'd of thee, decline! 55Each finer fenfe, that forms delight, is thine!Bright funs by thee diffuſe a brighter blaze,And the fresh green a freſher green diſplays!Without thee pleaſures die, or dully cloy,And life with thee, howe'er deprefs'd, is joy.Such thy vaft power! -The deity replies.Mirth never aſks a boon, which Health denies,Our mingled gifts tranſcend imperial wealth;Health ftrengthens Mirth, and Mirth infpirits Health.Theſe gales, yon fprings, herbs, flowers, and fun, arenine;Thine is their fmile! be all their influence thine.Euphrofyne rejoins-Thy friendſhip prove!See the dear, fickening object of my love!Shall that warm heart, fo cheerful ev'n in pain,So form'd to pleaſe, unpleas'd itſelf remain?Sifter! in her my ſmile anew difplay,And all the focial world ſhall blefs thy fway.606570Swift,ON LADY TYRCONNEL. 91Swift, as the fpeaks , Health fpreads the purplewing,75Soars in the colour'd clouds, and ſheds the ſpring:Now bland and fweet fhe floats along in air;Air feels, and ſoftening own th' æthereal fair!In ſtill deſcent ſhe melts on opening flowers,And deep impregnates plants with genial fhowers,The genial ſhowers, new-rising to the ray,Exhale in rofeate clouds, and glad the day.Now in a zephyr's borrow'd voice the fings ,Sweeps the fresh dews , and ſhakes them from her wings,Shakes them embalm'd; or, in a gentle kiſs,Breathes the fure earneſt of awakening bliſs.Sapphira feels it, with a foft furprize,8085Glide through her veins, and quicken in her eyes!Inftant in her own form the goddess glows,Where, bubbling warm, the mineral water flows;Then, plunging, to the flood new virtue gives;Steeps every charm; and , as ſhe bathes, it lives! 90As from her locks the ſheds the vital fhower,'Tis done! (fhe cries) theſe ſprings poffefs my power!Let thefe immediate to thy darling rollHealth, vigour, life, and gay- returning foul.Thou fmil'ft Euphrofyne; and confcious fee,Prompt to thy fmile, how Nature joys with thee.All is green life! all beauty rofy- bright;Full Harmony, young Love, and dear Delight!See vernal Hours lead circling Joys along!9.5All fun, all bloom, all fragrance, and all fong! 100 Receive92 SAVAGE'S POE M S.Receive thy care! Now Mirth and Health combine.Each heart fhall gladden , and each virtue ſhine.Quick to Augufta bear thy prize away;There let her ſmile, and bid a world be gay.A NEPIS T LETO THE RIGHT HONOURABLESIR ROBERT WALPOLE.STILL TILL let low wits, who fenfe nor honour prize,Sneer at all gratitude, all truth diſguiſe;At living worth, becauſe alive, exclaim,Infult the exil'd, and the dead defame!Such paint, what pity veils in private woes,And what we fee with grief, with mirth expoſe;Studious to urge (whom will mean authors ſpare?)The child's, the parent's, and the confort's tear:Unconscious of what pangs the heart may rend,To loſe what they have ne'er deferv'd-a friend.Such, ignorant of facts, invent, relate,Expos'd perfift, and anſwer'd ſtill debate:10Such,TO SIR R. WALPOLE. 93Such, but by foils, the cleareſt luftre ſee,And deem afperfing others, praiſing thee.Far from theſe tracks my honeft lays aſpire, 15And greet a generous heart with generous fire.Truth be my guide! Truth, which thy virtue claims!This, nor the poet, nor the patron fhames!When party- minds fhall loſe contracted views,And history queſtion the recording Muſe;'Tis this alone to after- times muſt ſhine,And ftamp the poet and his theme divine.20Long has my Muſe, from many a mournful cauſe,Sung with ſmall power, nor fought ſublime applauſe;From that great point fhe now ſhall urge her ſcope; 25:On that fair promiſe reſt her future hope;Where policy, from ftate-illufion clear,Can through an open aſpect ſhine fincere;Where Science, Law, and Liberty depend,And own the patron, patriot, and the friend;(That breaft to feel, that eye on worth to gaze,That fmile to cheriſh, and that hand to raife!)Whoſe beft of hearts her beft of thoughts inflame,.Whoſe joy is bounty, and whoſe gift is fame.Where, for relief, flies Innocence diftrefs'd?To you, who chace oppreffion from th' opprefs'd:Who, when complaint to you alone belongs,Forgive your own, though not a people's wrongs:Who ftill make public property your care,And thence bid private grief no more deſpair.39%3540Afk they what state your ſheltering care ſhall own?'Tis youth, ' tis age, the cottage, and the throne:Nor94 SAVAGE'S POEM S.45Nor can the prifon ' ſcape your ſearching eye,Your ear ſtill opening to the captive's cry.Nor lefs was promis'd from thy early ſkill,Ere power enforc'd benevolence of will!To friends refin'd, thy private life adher'd,Bythee improving, ere by thee prefer'd .Well hadst thou weigh'd what truth fuch friends afford,With thee refigning, and with thee reſtor❜d .Thou taught'ſt them all extenſive love to bear,And now mankind with thee their friendships fhare.As the rich cloud by due degrees expands,And ſhowers down plenty thick on fundry lands,Thy spreading worth in various bounty fell,Made genius flouriſh, and made art excel.How many, yet deceiv'd, all power oppoſe?Their fears increaſing, as decreaſe their woes;Jealous of bondage, while they freedom gain,And most oblig'd, moft eager to complain.But well we count our blifs , if weil we view,When power oppreffion, not protection grew;View prefent ills that puniſh diſtant climes;Or bleed in memory here from ancient times.Mark firft the robe abus'd Religion wore,Story'd with griefs, and ſtain'd with human gore!What various tortures, engines, fires , reveal,Study'd, empower'd, and fanctify'd by zeal?Stop here, my Mufe! -Peculiar woes defcry!Bid them in fad fucceffion ftrike thy eye!Lo, to her eye the fad fucceffion ſprings!She looks, the weeps, and, as ſhe weeps, the fings.5055606570SeeTÓ SIR R. WALPOLE. 95See the doom'd Hebrew of his ftores bereft!See holy murder juftify the theft!His ravag'd gold ſome uſeleſs ſhrine ſhall raiſe,His gems on fuperftitious idols blaze!75His wife, his babe, deny'd their little home,Stripp'd, ftarv'd, unfriended, and unpity'd roam.Lc, the Priest's hand the Wafer- God fupplies! --A King by confecrated poifon dies! 8085See Learning range yon broad æthereal plain,From world to world, and god- like Science gain!Ah! what avails the curious fearch fuftain'd,The finish'd toil , the god- like Science gain'd?Sentenc'd to flames th ' expanfive wiſdom fell,And truth from heaven was forcery from hell.See Reafon bid each myftic wile retire,Strike out new light! and mark! -the wife admire!Zeal ſhall fuch herefy, like Learning, hate;The fame their glory, and the fame their fate. 90Lo, from fought mercy, one his life receives!Life, worse than death, that cruel mercy gives:The man, perchance, who wealth and honours bore,Slaves in the mine, or ceafelefs trains the oar.So doom'd are theſe, and ſuch perhaps, our doom, 95Own'd we a Prince, avert it heaven! from Rome.Nor private worth alone falſe Zeal affails;Whole nations bleed when bigotry prevails.What are fworn friendſhips? What are kindred ties?What's faith with herefy? (the zealot cries . )See, when war finks, the thundering cannon's roar;When wounds, and death, and difcord are no more;100When96 SAVAGE'SPOEMS.When mufic bids undreading joys advance,Swell the foft hour, and turn the ſwimming dance:,When, to crown theſe, the ſocial ſparkling bowl 105Lifts the cheer'd fenfe, and pours out all the foul;Sudden he fends red maffacre abroad;Faithlefs to man, to prove his faith to God.What pure perfuafive eloquence denies,115All-drunk with blood, the arguing fwordfupplies; 110The fword, which to th' affaffin's hand is given!Th'affaffin's hand! -pronounc'd the hand of heaven!Sex bleeds with fex, and infancy with age;No rank, no place, no virtue, ſtops his rage;Shall fword, and flame, and devaſtation ceaſe,To pleaſe with zeal, wild zeal! the God of Peace? .Nor lefs abuſe has ſcourg'd the civil ſtate,When a King's will became a nation's fate.Enormous power! Nor noble, nor ferene;Now fierce and cruel; now but wild and mean.See titles fold, to raiſe th' unjuſt ſupply!Compell'd the purchaſe! or be fin'd, or buy!No public fpirit, guarded well by laws,Uncenfur'd cenfures in his country's caufe.120See from the merchant forc'd th' unwilling loan! 125Who dares deny, or deem his wealth his own?Denying, fee! where dungeon- damps arife,Difeas'd he pines, and unaffifted dies.Far more than maflacre that fate accurft!As of all deaths the lingering is the worst. 130New courts of cenfure griev'd with new offence,Tax'd without power, and fin'd without pretence,Ex-TO SIR R. WALPOLE. 97Explain'd, at will, each ſtatute's wreſted aim,Till marks of merit were the marks of fhame;So monstrous! Life was the fevereft grief,And the worst death feem'd welcome for relief.In vain the ſubject fought redress from law,No fenate liv'd the partial judge to awe:Senates were void, and fenators confin'dFor the great cauſe of Nature and Mankind;Who kings fuperior to the people own;Yet provethe law fuperior to the throne.Who can review without a generous tear,AChurch, a State, fo impious , fo fevere;A land uncultur'd through polemic jars,Rich!-but with carnage from inteftine wars;The hand of Induſtry employ'd no more,And Commerce flying to fome fafer fhore;All Property reduc'd, to Power a prey,And Senfe and Learning chac'd by Zeal away?Who honours not each dear departed ghoſt,That strove for Liberty fo won, fo loft:So well regain'd when god- like William roſe,And first entail'd the bleffing George beſtows?May Walpole ſtill the growing triumph raiſe,And bid thefe emulate Eliza's days;Still ferve a Prince, who, o'er his people great,As far tranfcends in virtue, as in ftate!The Mufe purſues thee to thy rural feat;Ev'n there fhall Liberty infpire retreat.When folemn cares in flowing wit are drown'd,And sportive chat and focial laughs go round:135149145150155160H Ev'n98 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Ev'n then, when pauſing mirth begins to fail,The converfe varies to the ſerious tale.The tale pathetic ſpeaks fome wretch that owesTo fome deficient law relieflefs woes.What inftant pity warms thy generous breaſt!How all the legiflator ftands confefs'd!165Nowfprings the hint! ' tis now improv'd to thought!Now ripe! and now to public welfare brought! 170New hills, which regulating means bestow,Juftice preferve, yet ſoftening mercy know:Juftice fhall low vexatious wiles decline,And ftill thrive moft, when lawyers moſt repine,Juftice from jargon fhall refin'd appear,To knowledge through our native language clear.Hence we may learn, no more deceiv'd by law,Whence wealth and life their beft affurance draw.The freed Infolvent, with induftrious hand,Strives yet to fatisfy the juft demand:175Thus ruthless men, who would his powers reftrain,Oft what feverity would loſe obtain .180185Theſe, and a thouſand gifts, thy thought acquires,Which Liberty benevolent infpires.From Liberty the fruits of law increaſe,Plenty, and joy, and all the arts of peace.Abroad the merchant, while the tempefts rave,Adventurous fails , nor fears the wind and wave;At home untir'd we find th' aufpicious handWith flocks , and herds, and harveſts , bleſs the land: 190While there, the peaſant glads the grateful foil,Here mark the shipwright, there the maſon toil,Hew,TO STR R. WALPOLE. 99Hew, fquare, and rear, magnificent, the ſtone,And give our oaks a glory not their own!What life demands by this obeys her call , 195And added elegance confummates all .Thus ftately cities , ftatelier navies rife,And ſpread our grandeur under diſtant ſkies.From Liberty each nobler ſcience ſprung,A Bacon brighten'd, and a Spenfer fung:A Clarke and Locke new tracks of truth explore,And Newton reaches heights unreach'd before.200What Trade fees Property that wealth maintain,Which Induſtry no longer dreads to gain;What tender confcience kneels with fears refign'd, 205Enjoys her worship, and avows her mind;What genius now from want to fortune climbs,And to fafe Science every thought fublimes;What Royal Power, from his fuperior ſtate,Sees public happineſs his own create;210But kens thofe patriot- fouls, to which he owesOf old each fource, whence now each bleffing flows?And if fuch fpirits from their heaven deſcend,And blended flame, to point one glorious end;Flame from one breaft, and thence to Britain fhine, 215What love, what praife, O Walpole, then is thine?H 2THE[ 100 ]THEVOLUNTEER LAUREAT.A POE M.ON HERMAJESTY'S BIRTH- DAY, 1731-2.NO. I.5TWICEtwenty tedious moons have roll'd away,Since hope, kind flatterer! tun'd my penfive lay,Whispering, that you, who rais'd me from defpair,Meant, by your ſmiles, to make life worth my care;With pitying hand an orphan's tears to ſkreenAnd o'er the motherleſs extend the queen."Twill be the prophet guides the poet's ſtrain!Grief never touch'd a heart like your's in vain:Heaven gave you power, becauſe you love to bleſs;And pity, when you feel it, is redreſs.Two fathers join'd to rob my claim of one!My mother too thought fit to have no fon!10The ſenate next, whoſe aid the helpleſs own,Forgot my infant wrongs, and mine alone!Yet parents pitylefs, nor peers unkind,Nor titles loft, nor woes myſterious join'd,15Strip me of hope-by heaven thus lowly laid,To find a Pharaoh's daughter in the ſhade.YouTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. 10125You cannot hear unmov'd, when wrongs implore,Your heart is woman, though your mind be more; 20Kind, like the power who gave you to our prayers,You would not lengthen life to ſharpen cares;They, who a barren leave to live beſtow,Snatch but from death to facrifice to woe.Hated by her from whom my life I drew,Whence should I hope, if not from heaven and you?Nor dare I groan beneath affliction's rod,My queen my mother, and my father- God.The pitying Muſes ſaw me wit purſue;A baftard-fon, alas! on that fide too,Did not your eyes exalt the poet's fire,And whatthe Mufe denies, the queen infpire?While rifing thus your heavenly ſoul to view,I learn, how angels think, by copying you.Great princefs! ' tis decreed-once every yearI march uncall'd your Laureat Volunteer;Thus fhall your poet his low genius raiſe,30%35And charm the world with truths too vak for praiſe.Nor need I dwell on glories all your own,Since furer means to tempt yourfmiles are known; 40Your Poet fhall allot your lord his part,And paint him in his nobleft throne-your heart.Is there a greatnefs that adorns Him beſt,Arifing with, that ripens in his breaſt?Has He foremeant fome diftant age to blefs,Difarm oppreffion , or expel diſtreſs?Plans He fome fcheme to reconcile mankind,People the feas, and bufy every wind?H 345Would302 SAVAGESPOEM S.50Wouldhe by pity the deceiv'd reclaim ,And ſmile contending factions into ſhame?Would his example lend his laws a weight,And breathe his own foft morals o'er his ſtate?The Mufe fhall find it all, ſhall make it feen,And teach the world his praife, to charm his queen.Such be the annual truths my verſe impartsNor frown, fair favourite of a people's hearts!Happy if, plac'd, perchance, beneath your eye,My Muſe, unpenſion'd, might her pinions try;Fearless to fail, whilft you indulge her flame,And bid me proudly boaſt your Laureat's name; 60Renobled thus by wreaths my queen bestows,I lofe all memory of wrongs and woes.55THEVOLUNTEER LAUREAT.A PO E MON HERMAJESTY'S BIRTH - DAY, 1732-3.GRENO. II .REAT princefs, ' tis decreed! once every year,I march uncall'd, your Laureat Volunteer. "So fung the Mufe; nor fung the Mufe in vain:Myqueen accepts, the year renews the ſtrain.EreTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. 193Ere first your influence fhone with heavenly aid, 5Each thought was terror; for each view was fhade.Fortune to life each flowery path deny'd;No ſcience learn'd to bloom, no lay to glide.Inſtead of hallow'd hill , or vocal vale,Or ftream, sweet-echoing to the tuneful tale;Damp dens confin'd, or barren deferts ſpread ,With spectres haunted, and the Mufes fled;Ruins in penfive emblem feem to rife,And all was dark, or wild, to Fancy's eyes.But hark! a gladdening voice all nature chears!Difperfe, ye glooms! a day of joy appears?Hail, happy day! -'Twas on thy glorious morn,The firft, the fairest ofher fex was born!IO15How fwift the change! Cold, wintery forrows fly;Where- e'er ſhe looks, delight furrounds the eye! 20Mild fhines the fun, the woodlands warble round,The vales fweet echo, fweet the rocks refound!In cordial air foft fragrance floats along;Each ſcene is verdure, and each voice is fong!Shoot from yon orb divine, ye quickening rays! 2.5Boundless, like her benevolence, ye blaze!Soft emblems of her bounty, fall ye ſhowers!And ſweet afcend, and fair unfold ye flowers!Ye rofes, lilies , you we earliest claim ,In whitenefs , and in fragrance, match her fame!'Tis yours to fade, to fame like hers is dueUndying fweets, and bloom for ever new.Ye bloffoms, that one varied landſcape rife,And fend yourfcentful tribute to the ſkies;H 430Diffufive104 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Diffufive like yon royal branches ſmile,Grace the young year, and glad the grateful iſle!Attend, ye Mufes! mark the feather'd quires!Thoſe the fpring wakes, as you the queen inſpires.O, let her praife for ever fwell your fong!Sweet let your facred ftreams the notes prolong,Clear, and more clear, through all my lays refine;And there let heaven and her reflected fhine!As, when chill blights from vernal funs retire,Chearful the vegetative world aſpire,Put forth unfolding blooms, and waving tryTh' enlivening influence of a milder ſky;So gives her birth (like yon approaching spring)The land to flourish, and the Mufe tofing.'Twas thus, Zenobia, on Palmyra's throne,In learning, beauty, and in virtue fhone;Beneath her rofe, Longinus, in thy name,The poet's, critick's, and the patriot's fame!Is there ( fo high be you, great princef's, prais'd! )Awoe unpitied, or a worth unrais'd?35404550Art learns to foar by your ſweet influence taught; 55In life well cheriſh'd; nor in death forgot:In death, as life, the learn'd your goodneſs tell!Witneſs the facred bufts of Richmond's cell! -Sages, who in unfading light will fhine;Who 60 grafp'd at fcience, like your own, divine!The Mufe, who hails with fong this glorious morn,Now looks through days, through months, throughyears unborn;AllTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. 105All white they rife , and in their courſe expreſtAking by kings rever'd, by fubjects bleft!A queen, where-e'er true greatneſs ſpreads in fame; 65Where learning towers beyond her fex's aim;Where pure religion no extreme can touch,Of faith too little, or of zeal too much;Where theſe behold, as on this blefs'd of morns,What love protects them, and what worth adorns; 70Where'e'er diffuſive goodneſs ſmiles, a queenStill prais'd with rapture, as with wonder ſeen!See nations round, of every wiſh poſfeſt!Life in each eye, and joy in every breaſt!Shall I , on what I lightly touch'd, explain?^Shall I (vain thought! ) attempt the finiſhed ſtrain?No!-let the Poet ftop unequal lays,And to the just hiftorian yield your praiſe.75THEVOLUNTEER LAUREAT.A PO E MΟ Ν HERMAJESTY'S BIRTH- DAY, 1734-5.ΝNO. IV .INyouth no parent nurs'd my infant fongs,'Twas mine to be inſpir'd alone by wrongs;Wrongs, that with life their fierce attack began,.Drank infant tears, and ſtill purſue the man.Life106 SAVAGE'SPOEM S.Life fcarce is life-Dejection all is mine;The power, that loves in lonely ſhades to pine;Of fading cheek, of unelated views;Whole weaken'd eyes the rays of hope refuſe.'Tis mine the mean, inhuman pride to find;Who fhuns th' opprefs'd , to fortune only kind;Whofe pity's inſult, and whoſe cold reſpectIs keen as fcorn, ungenerous as neglect.Void ofbenevolent, obliging grace,Ev'n dubious friendſhip half averts his face.Thusfunk in fickness, thus with woes oppreft,How fhall the fire awake within my breaſt ›How shall the Muſe her flagging pinions raiſe?How tune her voice to Carolina's praiſe?From jarring thought no tuneful raptures flow;Thefe with fair days and gentle feafons glow:Such give alone ſweet Philomel to fing,And Philomel's the poet of the fpring.But foft, my foul! fee yon celeftial light!Before whofe lamhent huftre breaks the night.It glads me like the morning clad in dews,And beams reviving from the vernal Muſe:Infpiring joyous peace , ' tis ſhe! ' tis ſhe!Aftranger long to mifery and me.Her verdant mantle gracefully declines,And, flower- embroider'd, as it varies, fhines.Toform her garland, Zephyr, from his wing,Throws the first flowers and foilage of the fpring.Her looks how lovely! health and joy have lentBloom to her cheek, and to her brow content.5101520292530BeholdTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. 1073540Behold, fweet- beaming her ætherial eyes!Soft as the Pleiades o'er the dewy ſkies.She blunts the point of care, alleviates woes,And pours the balm of comfort and repofe;Bids the heart yield to Virtue's filent call,And fhews Ambition's fons mere children all;Who hunt for toys which pleaſe with tinſel ſhine;For which they fquabble, and for which they pine.Oh hear her voice, more mellow than the gale,That breath'd through fhepherd'spipe enchants the valeHark! fhe invites from city finoke and noiſe,Vapours impure, and from impurer joys;From various evils, that, with rage combin'd,Untune the body, and pollute the mind:From crouds, to whom no focial faith belongs,Who tread one circle of deceit and wrongs;With whom politeness is but civil guile,And laws opprefs, exerted by the vile.4550To this oppos'd, the Muſe preſents the ſcene;Where fylvan pleaſures ever fmiles ferene;Pleaſures that emulate the bleft above, 55Health, innocence, and peace, the Muſe, and Love;Pleaſures that ravifh, while alternate wroughtByfriendly converſe, and abſtracted thought.Theſe footh my throbbing breaft. No lofs I mourn;Though both from riches and from grandeur torn. 60Weep I a cruel mother? No-I've ſeen,From heaven, a pitying, a maternal queen.One gave me life; but would no comfort grant;She more than life refum'd by giving want.Would108 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Would the the being which the gave deſtroy?Myqueen gives life, and bids me hope for joy.Honours and Wealth I chearfully refign;If competence, if learned eafe be mine!IfI by mental, heartfelt joys be fir'd ,And in the vale by all the Muſe inſpir'd!6570Here ceaſe my plaint- See yon enlivening ſcenes!!Child of the fpring! Behold the best of queens!Softnefs and beauty rofe this heavenly morn,Dawn'd wisdom, and benevolence was born .Joy, o'er a people, in her influence roſe; 75%Like that which ſpring o'er rural nature throws.War to the peaceful pipe reſigns his roar,And breaks his billows on fome diftant fhore.Domestic difcord finks beneath her ſmile,Andarts, and trade, and plenty, glad the ifle.Lo! induftry furveys, with feafted eyes,80.His due reward, a plenteous harveſt rife!Nor (taught by Commerce) joys in that alone;But fees the harveſt of a world his own.Hence thy just praiſe, thou mild, majeſtic Thames! 85:Rich river! richer than Pactolus' ftreams!Than thofe renown'd of yore, by poets roll'dO'er intermingled pearls, and fands of gold.How glorious thou, when from old ocean's urn,Loaded with India's wealth, thy waves return!Alive thy banks! along each bordering line,High cultur'd blooms, inviting villa's fhine:And while around ten thouſand beauties glow,Thefe ftill o'er thoſe redoubling luftre throw.99." ComeTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. 109"Comethen (fo whiſper'd the indulgent Mufe) 95" Come then, in Richmond groves thy forrows lofe!" Come then, and hymn this day! The pleaſing fcene" Shews, in each view, the genius of thy queen.“ Hear Nature whiſpering in the breeze her ſong!" Hear her ſweet- warbling through the feather'dthrong! 100" Come with the warbling world thy notes unite," And with the vegetative fmile delight!" Sure fuch a ſcene and fong will foon reſtore" Loft quiet, and give blifs unknown before;" Receive it grateful, and adore, when given, 105110" The goodness of thy parent, queen, and heaven!" With me each private virtue lifts the voice;"While public ſpirit bids a land rejoice:" O'er all thy queen's benevolence defcends,“ And wide o'er all her vital light extends." As winter foftens into fpring, to you“ Blooms fortune's ſeaſon , through her fmile, anew." Still for paft bounty, let new lays impart" The ſweet effufions of a grateful heart!" Caft through the teleſcope of hope your eye!"There goodneſs infinite, fupreme, defcry!" From him that ray of virtue ftream'd on earth," Which kindled Caroline's bright foul to birth." Behold! he ſpreads one univerſal ſpring!" Mortals, transform'd to angels, then ſhall fing; 120" Oppreffion then ſhall fly with want and ſhame,And bleffing and exiſtence be the ſame!”46115THE[ ro ]THEVOLUNTEER LAUREAT.A PO E MON HERMAJESTY'S BIRTHDAY,NO. V.1735-6LO! the mild fun falutes the opening ſpring ,And gladdening nature calls the Muſe to fing;Gay chirp the birds, the bloomy ſweets exhale,And health, and ſong, and fragrance fill the gale.Yet, mildeft funs, to me are pain fevere,And mufic's felf is difcord to my ear!I, jocund fpring, unfympathizing, fee,And health, that comes to all , comes not to me.Dear health once fled , what ſpirits can I find!5What folace meet, when fled my peace of mind?, 10 From abfent books what ftudious hint devife?From abfent friends, what aid to thought can riſe?Agenius whiſper'd in my ear-Go ſeekSome man of state! -The Mufe your wrongs mayſpeak.But will fuch liften to the plaintive ſtrain?The happy feldom heed th' unhappy's pain.Towealth, to honours, wherefore was I born?Why left to poverty, repulfe, and fcorn?Whywas I form'd of elegant defires?Thought, which beyond a vulgar flight afpires!15-20Why,THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. IIIWhy, by the proud, and wicked, cruſh'd to earth?Better the day ofdeath, than day of birth!Thus I exclaim'd: a little cherub ſmil'd;Hope, I am call'd ( faid he) , a heaven-born child!Wrongs fure you have; complain you justly may: 25But let wild forrow whirl not thought away!No-trust to honour! that you ne'er will ſtainFrom peerage-blood , which fires your filial vein.Truft more to Providence! from me ne'er fwerve!Once to diftruft, is never to deſerve.Did not this day a Caroliné difcloſe?I promis❜d at her birth, and bleſſing roſe!(Bleffing, o'er all the letter'd world to ſhine,In knowledge clear, beneficence divine! )'Tis hers, as mine, to chace away deſpair;Woe undeferv'd is her peculiar care.Her bright benevolence fends me to grief:On want ſheds bounty, and on wrong relief.Then calm-ey'd Patience, born of angel - kind,Open'd a dawn of comfort on my mind.With her came Fortitude of god - like air!Theſe arm to conquer ills; at leaſt to bear:303540Arm'd thus, my queen, while wayward fates ordain ,Mylife to lengthen, but to lengthen pain;Your bard, his forrows with a fmile endures;Since to be wretched is, to be made yours.45THEI 112 ]THEVOLUNTEER LAUREAT.ANO DEON HERMAJESTY'S BIRTH- DAY, 1736-7 .NO. VI.YEfpirits bright, that æther rove, That breathe the vernal foul of love;Bid health defcend in balmy dews,And life in every gale diffuſe;That give the flowers to fhine, the birds to fing;Oh, glad this natal day, the prime of ſpring!The virgin fnow- drop first appears;Her golden head the crocus rears.The flowery tribe, profuſe and gay," Spread to the foft, inviting ray.So arts fhall bloom by Carolina's ſmile,So fhall her fame waft fragrance o'er the iſle,The warblers various, ſweet and clear,From bloomy fprays falute the year.O Mufe, awake! aſcend and ſing!Hail the fair rival of the ſpring!To woodland honours woodland hymns belong;To her, the pride of arts! the Muſe's fong.Kind, as oflate her clement fway,The feafon fheds a tepid ray.3301520TheTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT. 113The ftorms of Boreas rave no more;The ftorms of faction cease to roar,At vernal funs as wintery tempefts ceafe,She, lovely power! fimiles faction into peace.THEVOLUNTEER LAUREAT.For the 1ft of MARCH, 1737-8.A POEMSACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HER LATEM A JE S T Y.HUMBLY ADDRESSED то HISM A JE S T Y.OFTNO. VII.FT has the Mufe, on this diſtinguiſh'd day,Tun'd to glad harmony the vernal lay;But, Olamented change! the lay muſt flowFrom grateful rapture now to grateful woe.She, to this day who joyous luftre gave,Defcends for ever to the filent grave.She, born at once to charm us and to mend,Ofhuman race the pattern and the friend .I5To114 SAVAGE'S POEM S.To be orfondly or feverely kind ,To check the rash or prompt the better mind,Parents fhall learn from her, and thus fhall drawFrom filial love alone a filial awe.1015Who feek in avarice wiſdom's art to fave;Who often fquander, yet who never gave;From her theſe knew the righteous mean to find,And the mild virtue ftole on half mankind.The lavish now caught frugal wisdom's lore;Yet ftill, the more they fav'd, beftow'd the more.Now milers learn'd at others woes to melt,And faw and wonder'd at the change they felt.The generous, when on her they turn'd their view,The generous ev'n themſelves more generous grew,Learn'd the fhunn'd haunts of fhame-fac'd want totrace;To goodness, delicacy, adding grace.20The confcious cheek no rifing bluſh confefs'd,Nor dwelt one thought to pain the modeft breaft;Kind and more kind did thus her bounty fhower,And knew no limit but a bounded power.This truth the widow's fighs, alas! proclaim;For this the orphan's tears embalm her fame.2530The wife beheld her learning's fummit gain,Yet never giddy grow, nor ever vain:But on one fcience point a ſtedfaſt eye,That fcience- how to live and how to die.Say, Memory, while to thy grateful fight 35Arife her virtues in unfading light,WhatTHE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT, * 11340What joys were ours, what forrows now remain:Ah! how fublime the blifs! how deep the pain!And thou, bright princeſs, ſeated now on high,Next one, the fairest daughter of the ſky,Whoſe warm- felt love is to all beings known,Thy fifter Charity! next her thy throne;See at thy tomb the Virtues weeping lie!There in dumb forrowfeem, the Arts to die.So werethe fun o'er other orbs to blaze, 45And from our world, like thee, withdraw his rays,No more to vifit where he warm'd before,All life muft ceaſe, and nature be no more.Yet fhall the Muſe a heavenly height eſſayBeyond the weakneſs mix'd with mortal clay;Beyond the lofs, which, though the bleeds to fee,Though ne'er to beredeem'd, the lofs of thee!Beyond ev'n this, fhe hails with joyous lay,Thy better birth, thy firſt true natal day;Aday, that fees thee borne, beyond the tomb,To endleſs health, to youth's eternal bloom;Borne to the mighty dead, the fouls fublimeOfevery famous age, and every clime;To goodneſs fix'd by truth's unvarying laws,5035To bliſs that knows no period, knows no pauſe- 60Save when thine eye, from yonder pure ferene,Sheds a foft ray on this our gloomy ſcene.With me now liberty and learning mourn,From all relief, like thy lov'd confort, torn;For where can prince or people hope relief,When each contend to be fupreme in grief?65I 2So

1. 114 SAVAGE'S POEM S.

So vy'd thy virtues, that could point the way,So well to govern; yet ſo well obey.Deign one look more! ah! fee thy confort dearWishing all hearts, except his own, to chear.Lo! ftills he bids thy wonted bounty flowTo weeping families of worth and woe.He ftops all tears, however faft they rife,Save thoſe that ſtill muſt fall from grateful eyes,And, fpite of griefs that fo ufurp his mind,Still watches o'er the welfare of mankind.Father ofthofe, whoſe rights thy care defends,7075Still moft their own, when moſt their fovereign's friends;Then chiefly brave, from bondage chiefly free,When moſt they truft, when moft they copy thee; 80Ah! let the loweft of thy fubjects payHis honeft heart-felt tributary lay;In anguiſh happy, if permitted here,One figh to vent, to drop one virtuous tear;Happier, if pardon'd, ſhould he wildly moan,And with a monarch's forrow mix his own.85OFO FPUBLIC SPIRITIN REGARD тоPUBLIC WORK S.

[ 115 ]O FPUBLIC SPIRITIN REGARD TOPUBLIC WORKS:ANE PISTLETO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESSFREDERIC PRINCE OF WALES.CONTENTS.OF refervoirs, and their ufe; of draining fens, andbuilding bridges, cutting canals, repairing harbours, and ſtopping inundations, making riversnavigable, building light-houſes; of agriculture,gardening, and planting for the nobleſt uſes;of commerce; of public roads; of public Buildings, viz. fquares, ſtreets, manfions, palaces, courtsof justice, fenate houſes, theatres, hofpitals,churches, colleges; the variety of worthies produced by the latter; of colonies. The flavetrade cenfured, &c.-116 SAVAGE'S POEM S.GREAT Hope of Britain! -Here the Mufe effays Atheme, which, to attempt alone, is praife.Be Her's a zeal of Public Spirit known!Aprincely zeal! -a Spirit all your own!510Where never Science beam'd a friendly ray,Where one vaft blank neglected Nature lay;From Public Spirit there, by arts employ'd,Creation, varying, glads the cheerleſs void,Hail, arts! where fafety, treaſure, and delight,On land, on wave, in wondrous works unite!Thoſe wondrous works, O Mufe! fucceffive raiſe,And point their worth, their dignity, and praiſe!What though no ftreams , magnificently play'd,Rife a proud column, fall a grand caſcade;Through nether pipes, which nobler ufe renowns, 15 Lo! ductile rivulets vifit diftant towns!Now vanish fens, whence vapours rife no more,Whofe agueifh influence tainted heaven before.Thefolid ifthmus finks a watery ſpace,And wonders, in new ftate, at naval grace.20Where the flood deepening rolls , or wide extends,From road to road yon arch, connective, bends:Where ports were choak'd; where mounds, in vain ,arofe;There harbours open, and there breaches clofe;To keels, obedient, fpreads each liquid plain,And bulwark moles repel the boisterous main.When the funk fun no homeward fail befriends,On the rock's brow the light- houſe kind afcends,25AndOF PUBLIC SPIRIT. 117And from the fhoaly, o'er the gulfy way,Points to the pilot's eye the warning ray. 30Count ftill, my Mufe (to count, what Mufe canceaſe?)The works of Public Spirit, freedom, peace!By them fhall plants, in forefts, reach the ſkies;Then lofe their leafy pride, and navies rife(Navies, which to invaſive foes explain , 35Heaven throws not round us rocks and feas in vain ):The fail of commerce in each ſky afpires,And property affures what toil acquires.Who digs the mine or quarry, digs with glee;No flave! -His option and his gain are free:Him the fame laws the fame protection yield,Who plows the furrow, or who owns the field.Unlike, where tyranny the rod maintainsO'er turflefs , leaflefs , and uncultur'd plains,Here herbs of food and phyſic plenty fhowers.Gives fruits to bluſh, and colours various flowers.Where fands or ftony wilds once ftarv'd the year,Laughs the green lawn, and nods the golden ear:White ſhine the fleecy race, which fate fhall doomThe feaft of life, the treafure of the loom.404550On plains now bare ſhall gardens wave their groves;While fettling fongfters woo their feather'd loves.Where pathleſs woods no grateful openings knew,Walks tempt the ftep, and viftas court the view.See the parterre confefs expanfive day;The grot, eluſive of the noon-tide ray.55I 3Up118 SAVAGE'S POE M S.Up yon green flope a length of terrace lies,Whence gradual landſcapes fade in diſtant ſkies.Now the blue lake reflected heaven diſplays;Now darkens, regularly- wild , the maze.Urns, obelisks , fanes, ftatues intervene;Now centre, now commence, or end the ſcene.60Lo, proud alcoves! lo, ſoft ſequeſter'd bowers!Retreats of focial, or of ftudious hours!Rank above rank here fhapely greens afcend;There others natively- groteſque depend .65The rude, the delicate, immingled tellHow Art would Nature, Nature Art excel;And how, while theſe their rival charms impart,Art brightens Nature, Nature brightens Art;Thus, in the various, yet harmonious ſpace,Blend order, fymmetry, and force, and grace.When thefe from Public Spirit fmile, we ſeeFree-opening gates, and bowery pleaſures free;For fure great fouls one truth can never miſs,Blifs not communicated is not blifs.7075Thus Public Spirit, liberty, and peace,Carve, build, and plant, and give the land increaſe;From peaſant hands imperial works ariſe,And British hence with Roman grandeur yies;Not grandeur that in pompous whim appears,That levels hills, that vales to mountains rears;That alters nature's regulated grace,Meaning to deck, but deſtin'd to deface.80Though no proud gates, with China's taught to vie, 85Magnificently uſeleſs ſtrike the eye;(Ufelefs,OF PUBLIC SPIRIT. 119Ufelefs, where rocks a furer barrier lend,Where feas encircle, and where fleets defend; )What though no arch of triumph is affign'dTo laurel'dpride, whoſeſword has thinn'd mankind; 90Though no vaft wall extends from coast to coaft,No pyramid afpires, fublimely loft;Yet the ſafe road through rocks ſhall winding tend,And the firm cauſeway o'er the clays afcend.Lo! ftately freets, lo! ample ſquares inviteThe falutary gale, that breathes delight.Lo! ftructures mark the charitable foilFor cafual ill , maim'd valour, feeble toilWorn out with care, infirmity, and age;95The life here entering, quitting there the ftage: 100The babe of lawlefs birth, doom'd elfe to moan,To ftarve or bleed for errors not his own!Let the frail mother 'fcape the fame defil'd ,If from the murdering mother ' fcape the child!Oh, guard his youth from fin's alluring voice;From deeds of dire neceffity, not choice!His grateful hand, thus never harmful known,Shall on the public welfare build his own.105Thus worthy crafts, which low-born life divide,Give towns their opulence, and courts their pride. 110Sacred to pleaſure ftructures rife elate,To that ftill worthy of the wife and great.Sacred to pleaſure then fhall piles afcend?They fhall- when pleaſure and inftruction blend.Let theatres from Public Spirit ſhine!Such theatres, as, Athens, once were thine!115I 4See!120 SAVAGE'S POEM S.C

120125See! the gay Mufe of pointed wit poffeft,Whomakes the virtuous laugh, the decent jeft:What though fhe mock, ſhe mocks with honeſt aim,And laughs each favorite folly into ſhame,With liberal light the tragic charms the age:In folemn-training robes the fills the stage;There human nature, mark'd in different lines,Alive in character diftinctly fhines.Quick paffions change alternate on her faceHer diction mufic, as her action grace.Inftant we catch her terror-giving cares,Pathetic fighs, and pity-moving tears;Inftant we catch her generous glow of foul,Till one great ſtriking moral crowns the whole.Hence in warm youth, by fcenes ofvirtue taught,Honour exalts, and love expands the thought;Hence pity, to peculiar grief affign'd,Grows wide benevolence to all mankind.Where various edifice the land renowns,There Public Spirit plans, exalts, and crowns.She chears the manfion with the fpacious hall ,Bids painting live along the ftoried wall;Seated, the fmiling eyes th' uncloſing door,And much the welcomes all , but moſt the poor;She turns the pillar, orthe arch the bends,The choir fhe lengthens, or the choir extends;330135140She rears the tower, whoſe height the heavens admire;Sherears, the rounds, the points the leffening ſpire;At her command the college - roofs aſcend(For Public Spirit ftill is learning's friend).145StupendousOF PUBLIC SPIRIT. 121Stupendous piles, which uſeful pomp compleats,Thus rife Religion's, and thus Learning's feats:There moral truth and holy ſcience ſpring,Andgive the fa*ge to teach, the bard to fing, 150There fome draw health from herbs and mineral veins,Some fearch the ſyſtems of the heavenly plains;Some call from history paſt times to view,155Andothers trace old laws, and ſketch out new;Thence faving rights by legiſlators plann'd,And guardian patriots thence inſpire the land.Now grant, ye powers, one great, one fond defire,And, granting, bid a new Whitehall afpire!Far let it lead, by well - pleas'd Thames furvey'd,The ſwelling arch, and ſtately colonnade;Bid courts of justice, fenate- chambers join ,Till various all in one proud work combine!But now be all the generous Goddeſs ſeen,When moft diffus'd the fhines, and moft benign!Ye fons of mifery, attract her view!Ye fallow, hollow- eyed , and meagre crew!Such high perfection have our arts attain'd,That now few fons of toil our arts demand?Then to the public, to itſelf, we fear,Ev'n willing induſtry grows uſeleſs here,Are we too populous at length confefs'd,From confluent ftrangers refug'd and redrefs'd?Has war fo long withdrawn his barbarous train,That peace o'erſtocks us with the fons of men?So long has plague left pure the ambient air,That want muft prey on thoſe diſeaſe would ſpare?160165170175Hence122 SAVAGE'S POE M S.Hence beauteous wretches (beauty's foul difgrace! )Though born the pride, the ſhame of human race;Fair wretches hence, who nightly streets annoy,Live but themſelves and others to deſtroy.Hence robbers rife, to theft, to murder prone,First driven by want, from habit deſperate grown;Hence for ow'd trifles oft our jails contain(Torn from mankind) a miſerable train;Torn from, in ſpite of nature's tendereſt cries,Parental, filial , and connubial ties:The trader, when on every fide diſtreſt ,Hence flies to what expedient frauds fuggeft;Toprop his queſtion'd credit's tottering ſtate,Others he first involves to fhare his fate;Then for mean refuge muft felf- exil'd roam ,Never to hope a friend , nor find a home,180185190This Public Spirit fees, the fees and feels!Her breaft the throb, her eye the tear reveals;(The patriot throb that beats, the tear that flows 195For others welfare, and for others woes)—And what can I ( the faid) to cure their grief?Shall I or point out death, or point relief?Forth fhall I lead them to fome happier foil,To conqueft lead them, and enrich with ſpoil?Bid them convulfe a world, make nature groan,And ſpill, in fhedding others blood, their own?No, no-fuch wars do thou, Ambition, wage!Go fterilize the fertile with thy rage!Whole nations to depopulate is thine;To people, culture, and protect, be mine!200205ThenOF PUBLIC SPIRIT. 123Then range the world, Diſcovery! -Strait he goesO'er feas, o'er Libya's fands, and Zembla's fnows;He fettles where kind rays till now have fmil'd(Vain fiile! ) on fome luxuriant houſeleſs wild.How many fons of want might here enjoyWhat Nature gives for age but to deſtroy?Bluſh, bluſh, O ſun ( ſhe cries) here vainly found,To rife, to fet, to roll the feaſons round!Shall heaven diftil in dews, defcend in rain,From earth guſh fountains, rivers flow- in vain?There ſhall the watery lives in myriads ſtray,And be, to be alone each other's prey?Unfought ſhall here the teeming quarries ownThe various ſpecies of mechanic ftone?From ftructure this, from fculpture that confine?Shall rocks forbid the latent gem to thine?Shall mines, obedient, aid no artist's care,210215220Nor give the martial ſword, and peaceful fhare?Ah! fhall they never precious ore unfold, 225To fmile in filver, or to flame in gold?Shall here the vegetable world alone,For joys, for various virtues, reft unknown?While food and phyfic, plants and herbs fupply,Here muft they ſhoot alone to bloom and die?Shall fruits, which none but brutal eyes furvey,Untouch'd grow ripe, untafted drop awayy?Shall here th' irrational, the favage kind ,Lord it o'er ſtores by heaven for man defign'd,230And trample what mild funs benignly raiſe, 235While man muſt loſe the uſe, and heaven the praiſe?Shall124 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Shall it then be? -(Indignant here fhe rofe,Indignant, yet humane, her boſom glows)—No! By each honour'd Grecian, Roman- name,Bymen for virtue deify'd by fame,Who peopled lands, who model'd infant ſtate,And then bade empire be maturely great;By theſe I ſwear ( be witneſs earth and ſkies! )Fair Order here fhall from Confufion rife .Rapt, I a future colony ſurvey!240245Come then, ye fons of Mifery! come away!Let thofe, whofe forrows from neglect are known,(Here taught, compell'd, empower'd) neglect atone!Let thofe enjoy, who never merit woes,In youth th' induſtrious wiſh, in age repofe!Allotted acres ( no reluctant foil )2450Shall prompt their induſtry, and pay their toil.Let families, long ftrangers to delight,Whom wayward fate difpers'd, by me unite;Here live enjoying life; fee plenty, peace;Their lands increaſing as their fons increaſe.As nature yet is found, in leafy glades,To intermix the walks with lights and fhades;Or as with good and ill, in chequer'd ſtrife,255Various the goddeſs colours human life:So, in this fertile clime, if yet are ſeen260Moors, marshes, cliffs, by turns to intervene;Where cliffs, moors, marſhes, defolate the view,Where haunts the bittern, and where fcreams themew;WhereOF PUBLIC SPIRIT. 125Whereprowls the wolf, where roll'd theferpent lies, 265Shall folemn fanes and halls of juſtice rife,And towns fhall open ( all of ſtructure fair! )To brightening profpects, and to pureft air;Frequented ports, and vineyards green fucceed,And flocks increafing whiten all the mead.On ſcience ſcience, arts on arts refine;On theſe from high all heaven ſhall ſmiling ſhine,And Public Spirit here a people ſhow,Free, numerous, pleas'd, and bufy all below..Learn, future natives of this promiſed land,What your forefathers ow'd my faving hand!Learn, when Deſpair ſuch ſudden bliſs ſhall ſee,Such blifs must fhine from Oglethorpe or me!Do you the neighbouring blameless Indian aid,Culture what he neglects, not his invade,Dare not, oh dare not, with ambitious view,Force or demand fubjection never due.Let, by my fpecious name, no tyrants rife,And cry, while they enflave, they civilize?Know, Liberty and I are ftill the fame,Congenial! -ever mingling flame with flame!Whymust I Afric's fable children fee270275.Vended for ſlaves, though form'd by nature free,The nameless tortures cruel minds invent,Thofe to fubject, whom nature equal meant?If theſe you dare ( albeit unjuſt ſucceſsEmpowers you now unpuniſh'd to opprefs)Revolving empire you and your's may doom(Rome all fubdued, yet Vandals vanqifh'd Rome),2800285290Yes,126 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Yes, empire may revolve, give them the day, 295And yoke may yoke, and blood may blood repay.Thus (ah! how far unequal'd by my lays,'Unfkill'd the heart to melt, or mind to raiſe),Sublime, benevolent, deep , fweetly - clear,305310Worthy a Thomſon's Muſe, a FREDERICK's ear, 300Thus fpoke the Goddefs. Thus I faintly tellIn what lov'd works heaven gives her to excel.But who her fons, that, to her intereft true,Converfant lead her to a prince like you?Thefe, Sir, falute you from life's middle ſtate,Rich without gold, and without titles great:Knowledge of books and men exalts their thought,In wit accompliſh'd, though in wiles untaught,Careless ofwhiſpers meant to wound their name,Nor fneer'd nor brib'd from virtue into ſhame;In letters elegant, in honour bright,They come, they catch, and they reflect delight.Mixing with thefe, a few of rank are found,For councils, embaffies, and camps renown'd.Vers'd in gay life, in honeft maxims read,And ever warm of heart, yet cool of head.From theſe the circling glafs gives wit to fhine,The bright grow brighter, and ev'n courts refine;From theſe fo gifted, candid, and upright,Flows knowledge, foftening into eaſe polite.Happy the men, who ſuch a prince can pleaſe!Happy the prince rever'd by men like theſe!His condefcenfions dignity diſplay,315320Grave with the wife, and with the witty gay;ForOF PUBLIC SPIRIT. 127For him fine marble in the quarry lies ,Which, in due ftatues , to his fame ſhall rife;Ever fhall Public Spirit beam his praiſe,And the Mufe fwell it in immortal lays.325тоMR. JOHN DYER, A PAINTER,ADVISING HIM TO DRAW A CERTAINNOBLE AND ILLUSTRIOUS PERSON;Occafioned by feeing his PICTURE of thecelebrated CLIO * .ORGIVE an artlefs, an officious friend,FoWeak, when I judge, but willing to commendFall'n as I am, by no kind fortune rais'd,Deprefs'd, obfcur'd, unpity'd, and unprais'd;Yet, when theſe well - known features I peruſe,Some warmth awakes- fome embers of a Muſe.Ye Mufes, Graces, and ye Loves, appear!Your Queen, your Venus, and your Clio's here!In fuch pure fires her rifing, thoughts refine!Her eyes with fuch commanding fweetnefs fhine:Such vivid tinctures fure through æther glow,Stain fummer clouds, or gild the watery bow:See Dyer's Poems.510128 SAVAGE'S POEM S.If life Pygmalion's ivory favourite fir'd,Sure fome enamour'd Godt his draught inſpir'd!Or, if you rafhly caught Promethean flame,Shade the fweet theft, and mar the beauteous frame!Yet if thoſe cheering lights the profpect fly,Ah!-let no pleafing view the lofs fupply.Some dreary den, ſome deſert waſte prepare,Wild as my thoughts, or dark as my deſpair.But still, my friend , ſtill the ſweet object flays,Still ftream your colours rich with Clio's rays!Sure at each kindling touch your canvafs glows!Sure the full form, inſtinct with ſpirit, grows!Let the dull artift puzzling rules explore,Dwell on the face, and gaze the features o'er;You eye the foul-there genuine nature find,You, through the meaning muſcles, ftrike the mind:Nor can one view fuch boundleſs power confine,All Nature opens to an art like thine!Now rural scenes in fimple grandeur rife!15202530Vales, hills, lawns, lakes, and vineyards feaſt our eyes,Now halcyon Peace a ſmiling aſpect wears!Now the red fcene with war and ruin glares!Here Britain's fleets o'er Europe's feas prefide!There long- loft cities rear their ancient pride;You from the grave can half redeem the flain,And bid great Julius charm the world again:Mark out Pharfalia's, mark out Munda's fray,And image all the honours of the day.But if new glories moft our warmth excite;If toils untry'd to nobleft aims invite;3540WouldΤΟ MR. JOHN DYER. 129Would you in envy'd pomp unrival'd reign,Oh, let Horatius grace the canvaſs plain!His form might ev'n idolatry create,In lineage, titles, wealth, and worth elate!Empires to him might virgin honours owe,45From him arts, arms, and laws, new influence know.For him kind funs on fruits and grains fhall fhine,And future gold lie ripening in the mine;For him fine marble in the quarry lies,Which, in due ftatues, to his fame ſhall rife.Through those bright features Cæfar's fpirit trace,Each conquering fweetnefs, each imperial grace,All that is foft, or eminently great,In love, in war, in knowledge, or in ſtate.Thus fhall your colours, like his worth amaze!Thus fhall you charm, enrich'd with Clio's praife!Clear, and more clear, your golden genius fhines,While my dim lamp of life obſcure declines:Dull'd in damp fhades, it waſtes , unfeen, away,While yours, triumphant, grows one blaze of day.૬૦5560K VERSES[ 130 ]VER SE SSENT тоAARON HILL, ES QWith the TRAGEDY of SIR THOMAS OVER .BURY, expecting him to correct it .AI.S the foul, ftript of mortal clay, ..Grows all divinely fair,And boundleſs roves the milky way,And views fweet profpects there,II.This hero, clogg'd with droffy lines,.By thee new vigour tries;As thy correcting hand refines,Bright fcenes around him rife..III.Thy touch brings the wifh'd ftone to paſs,So fought, fo long foretold;It turns polluted lead or brafs,At once to pureft gold.PRO-[ 131 ]PROLOGUESPOKEN AT THE REVIVAL OFSHAKESPEARE'S KING HENRY THE SIXTH,At the THEATRE- ROYAL in DRURY- LANE.Printed before the Play from afpurious Copy.TO-night a patient ear, ye Britons lend,SAnd to your great forefathers' deeds attend .Here, cheaply warn'd, ye bleft deſcendants view,What ills on England, Civil Difcord drew..To wound the heart, the martial Mufe prepares;While the red fcene with raging flaughter glares.Here, while a monarch's fufferings we relate,Let generous grief his ruin'd grandeur wait.While Second Richard's blood for vengeance calls,Doom'd for his grandfire's guilt, poor Henry falls . 10In civil jars avenging judgment blows,And royal wrongs entail a people's woes.Henry, unvers'd in wiles, more good than great,Drew on by meeknefs his difaftrous fate.Thus when you fee this land by faction toſt,Her nobles flain, her laws, her freedom loft;Let this reflection from the action flow,We ne'er from foreign foes could ruin know.Oh, let us then inteftine difcord fhun ,We ne'er can be, but by ourſelves, undone!K 21520THE£ 132 ]THEANIMAL CULE.A TA L E.Occafioned by his Grace the Duke of RUTLAND'Sreceiving the SMALL- POX by INOCULATION.I.IN Animalcules, Mufe, difplay IN Spirits, of name unknown in fong!Reader, a kind attention pay,Nor think an uſeful comment long..II.Far lefs than mites, on mites they prey;Minuteft things may fwarms contain:When o'er your ivory teeth they ſtray,Then throb your little nerves with pain.III.Fluids, in drops, minutely fwell;Thefe fubtil beings each contains;In the fmall fanguine globes they dwell,.Roll from the heart, and trace the veins.IV.Through every tender tube they rove,In finer fpirits ftrike the brain;Wind quick through every fibrous grove,And feek, through pores, the heart again.V. IfTHE ANIMALCULE; A TALE. 133V.If they with purer drops dilate,And lodge where entity began,They actuate with a genial heat,And kindle into future Man.VI.But, when our lives are Nature's due,Air, feas, nor fire, their frames diffolveThey matter, through all forms, purſue,And oft to genial heats revolve.VII.Thus once an Animalcule prov'd,When Man, a patron to the bays;This patron was in Greece belov'd;Yet fame was faithlefs to his praiſe.VIII.In Rome this Animalcule grewMæcenas, whom the claffics rate!Among the Gauls, it prov'd Richlieu,In learning, power, and bounty great.IX .In Britain, Halifax it rofe;(By Halifax, bloom'd Congreve's ſtrains);And now it rediminish'd glows,To glide through godlike Rutland's veins.X.Aplague there is, too many know;Too feldom perfect cures befall it:The Mufe may term it Beauty's foe;In phyfic, the Small- Pox we call it.K 3XI. From34 SAVAGE'S POE M S.XI.From Turks we learn this plague t' affuage,They, by admitting, turn its courfe:Their kifs will tame the tumor's rage;By yielding, they o'ercome the force.XII.Thus Rutland did its touch invite,While, watchful in the ambient air,This little, guardian, fubtil fprightDid with the poifon in repair.XIII.Th' infection from the heart it clears;Th' infection, now dilated thin,In pearly pimples but appears,Expell'd upon the ſurface ſkin.XIV.And now it, mouldering, waſtes away:'Tis gone!-doom'd to return no more!Our Animalcule keeps its ſtay,And muſt new labyrinths explore.XV.And now the Noble's thoughts are ſeen,Unmark'd, it views his heart's defires!It now reflects what it has been,And, rapturous, at his change admires!XVI.Its pristine virtues kept, combine,To be again in Rutland knownBut they, immers'd, no longer ſhine,Nor equal, nor encreaſe his own.ΤΟ[ 735 JTOMRS. ELIZ. HAYWOOD,ON HER NOVEL, CALLED,THE RASH RESOLV E.DOOM'D to afate which damps the poet's flame ,AMufe, unfriended , greets thy rifing name!Unvers'd in envy's, or in flattery's phraſe,Greatneſs the flies, yet merit claims her praiſe;Nor will fhe, at her withering wreath repine,But fmile, if fame and fortune cherish thine.The Sciences in thy fweet genius-charm ,And, with their ftrength, thy fex's foftneſs arm .In thy full figures, painting's force we find,As mufic fires, thy language lifts the mind.Thy power gives form, and touches into lifeThe paffions imag'd in their bleeding ftrife:Contrafted ftrokes, true art and fancy fhow,And lights and fhades in lively mixture flow.Hope attacks Fear, and Reaſon, Love's control,Jealoufy wounds, and Friendship heals the foul:Black Falfehood wears bright Gallantry's diſguiſe,And the gilt cloud enchants the fair- one's eyes.Thy dames, in grief and frailties lovely fhine,And when moft mortal half appear divine.If, when ſome god- like, favourite paffion ſways,The willing heart too fatally obeys,K 45101520Great136 SAVAGE'S POEM S.1Great minds lament what cruel cenfure blames,And ruin'd virtue generous pity claims.Eliza, ftill impaint Love's powerful Queen! 25Let Love, foft Love, exalt each ſwelling ſcene.Arm'd with keen wit, in fame's wide lifts advance!Spain yields in fiction, in politeness France.Such orient light, as the first poets knew,Flames from thy thought, and brightens every view! 30Aftrong, a glorious, a luxuriant fire,Which warms cold wifdom into wild defire!Thy Fable glows ſo rich through every page,What moral's force can the fierce heat affuage?And yet but fay if ever doom'd to proveThe fad, the dear perplexities of Love!Where ſeeming tranſport ſoftens every pain,Where fancy'd freedom waits the winning chain;Varying from pangs to viſionary joys,35Sweet is the fate, and charms as it deſtroys! 40Say then-if Love to fudden rage gives way,Will the ſoft paffion not reſume its ſway?Charming, and charm'd, can Love from Love retire?Can a cold convent quench th ' unwilling fire?Precept, if human, may our thoughts refine,More we admire! but cannot prove divine.45AN[ 137 ]ANAPOLOGY TO BRILLANTE,FOR HAVINGLONG OMITTED WRITING IN VERSE.In Imitation of a certain Mimic of Anacreon.CANI matchless charms recite?Source of ever- fpringing light!Could I count the vernal flowers,Count in endleſs time the hours;Count the countlefs ftars above,Count the captive hearts of Love;Paint the torture of his fire,Paint the pangs thoſe eyes inſpire!(Pleafing torture, thus to fhine,Purify'd by fires like thine! )Then I'd ftrike the founding ftring!Then I'd thy perfection fing.Myftic world!-Thou fomething more!Wonder ofth' Almighty's ftore!Nature's depths we oft defcry,Oft they're pierc'd by Learning's eye;Thou, ifthought on thee would gain,Prov'ft (like heaven) enquiry vain.Charms unequal'd we purſue!Charms in fhining throngs we view!Number'd then could nature's be,Nature's felf were poor to thee.101520AN[ 138 ]A.NEPISTLEMR S.тоOLD FIELD,OF THE THEATRE ROYAL.WHHILE to your charms unequal verſe I raiſe,Aw'd, I admire, and tremble as I praiſe:Here Art and Genius new refinement need,Listening, they gaze, and, as they gaze, recede!Can Art or Genius, or their powers combin'd,But from corporeal organs, ſketch the mind?When found embody'd can with ſhape furprize,The Muſe may emulate your voice and eyes.Mark rival arts perfection's point purfue!Each rivals each, but to excel in you!The Buft and Medal bear the meaning face,And the proud Statue adds the poſture's grace!Imag'd at length, the bury'd Heroine, known,Still feems to wound, to fimile, or frown in ſtone!As art would art, or metal ſtone furpafs,Her foul ftrikes, gleaming, through Corinthian braſs!Serene, the faint in fmiling filver fhines,5101.520And cherubs weep in gold o'er fainted fhrines!If long-loft forms from Raphael's pencil glow,Wondrous in warmth the mimic colours flow!Each look, each attitude, new grace diſplays;Your voice and motion life and mufic raiſe.Thus Cleopatra in your charms refines;She lives, the ſpeaks, with force improv'd the fhines!Fair,TO MRS. OLDFIELD. 139Fair, and more fair, you every grace tranſmit;Love, learning, beauty, elegance, and wit.Cæfar, the world's unrival'd maſter, fir'd,In her imperial foul, his own admir'd!Philippi's victor wore her winning chain,And felt not empire's lofs in beauty's gain.Could the pale heroes your bright influence know,Or catch the filver accents as they flow,Drawn from dark reft by your enchanting ſtrain ,Each fhade were lur'd to life and love again .25303540Say, ſweet inspirer! were each annal known,What living greatneſs fhines there not your own'!If the griev'd Muſe by fome lov'd empreſs roſe,New ſtrength, new grace, it to your influence owes!If power by war diftinguiſh'd height reveals ,Your nobler pride the wounds of fortune heals!Then could an empire's caufe demand your care,The foul, that juftly thinks, would greatly dare.Long has feign'd Venus mock'd the Mufe's praife,You dart, divine Ophelia! genuine rays!Warm through thoſe eyes enlivening raptures roll! 45Sweet through each ſtriking feature ftreams your foul!The foul's bright meanings heighten beauty's fires:Your looks, your thoughts, your deeds, each graceinſpires!50Know, then, ifrank'd with monarchs, hereyou ſtand,What Fate declines, you from the Mufe demand!Each grace that ſhone of old in each fam'd fair,Or may in modern dames refinement wear;Whate'er· 140 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Whate'erjuft, emulative thoughts purſue,Is all confirm'd , is all ador'd in you!If godlike bofoms pant for power to bleſs,If ' tis a monarch's glory to redreſs;In conſcious majesty, you fhine ferene,In thought a heroine, and in act a queen.55VER SE SOCCASIONED BY READINGMR. AARON HILL'S POEM,called GIDEON.LThe lines marked thus are taken from GIDEON.I.ET other poets poorly fingTheir flatteries to the vulgar great!Her airy flight let wandering fancy wing,And rival nature's moſt luxuriant ſtore,To fwell ſome monſter's pride, who ſhames a ſtate, 5Or form a wreath to crown tyrannic power!Thou, who inform'd'ft this clay with active fire!Do thou, Supreme of Powers! my thoughts refine,And with thy purest heat my foul inſpire,Thatwith Hillarius' worth myverfe mayAs thy lov'd Gideon once fet Ifrael free,So he with fweet, feraphic laysRedeems the uſe of captive poetry,'fhine! 10Which first was form'd to ſpeak thy glorious praiſe!11. Mofes,ON MR. HILL'S GIDEON. 141II.Mofes, with an enchanting tongue,Pharaoh's juft overthrow fublimely fung!When Saul and Jonathan in death were laid,Surviving David felt the foftening fire!And, by the Great Almighty's tuneful aid,Wak'd into endleſs life his mournful lyre.Their different thoughts, met in Hillarius' ſong,Roll in one channel more divinely strong!With Pindar's fire his verfe's ſpirit flies,Wafted in charming muſic through the air!Unftopt by clouds, it reaches to the ſkies,Andjoins with angels' hallelujahs there,1520Flows mix'd, andfweetly ftrikes th' Almighty's ear!III.Rebels fhould blush when they his Gideon fee!!That Gideon born to fet his country free.O that fuch heroes in each age might rife,Brightening through vapours like the morning-ſtar,Generous to triumph, and in council wife!Gentle in peace, but terrible in war!IV.When Gideon, Oreb, Hyram, Shimron ſhineFierce in the blaze of war as they engage!Great bard what energy, but thine,Could reach the vaſt deſcription of their rage?Or when, to cruel foes betray'd,Sareph and Hamar call for aid,25930335Loft14.2 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Loft, and bewilder'd in deſpair, 40How piercing are the hapless lover's cries!What tender strokes in melting accents riſe!Oh, what a maſter-piece of pity's there?Nor goodly Joash fhows thy fweetneſs lefs ,When, like kind heaven, he frees them from diftrefs! 45 V.Hail thou, whofe verſe, a living image, ſhines,In Gideon's character your own you drew!As there the graceful patriot fhines,We in that image bright Hillarius view!Let the lowcrowd, wholove unwholeſome fare, 50When in thy words the breath of angels flows ,Like grofs-fed fpirits, fick in purer air,Their earthy fouls by their dull tafte diſcloſe!Thy dazzling genius fhines too bright!And they, like ſpectres, fhun the ftreams of light. 55But while in fhades of ignorance they ſtray,Round thee rays of knowledge play,,And fhew thee glittering in abſtracted day.' }TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLEBESSY, COUNTESS OF ROCHFORD,DAUGHTER OF THE LATE EARL RIVERS,WHEN WITH CHILD.Aswhen the fun walks forth in flaming gold,Mcanplants may finile, and humble flowers unfold,The low-laid lark the diftant æther wings,And, as flie foars , her daring anthem fings;So,TO LADY ROCHFORD. 143510So, when thy charms celeſtial views create,My finiling fong furmounts my gloomy fate.Thy angel - embryo prompts my towering lays,Claims my fond with, and fires my future praiſe:May it, if male, its grandfire's image wear;Or in its mother's charms confefs the fair;At the kind birth may each mild planet wait;Soft be the pain, but prove the bleffing great .Hail, Rivers! hallow'd fhade! defcend from reft!Defcend and fmile, to fee thy Rochford bleſt:Weep not the ſcenes through which my life muft run, 15Though fate, fleet- footed, fcents thy languid fon .The bar that, darkening, crofs'd my crested claim ,Yields at her charms, and brightens in their flame:That blood which, honour'd, in thy Rochford reigns,In cold, unwilling wanderings trac'd my veins.Want's wintery realm froze hard around my view;And fcorn's keen blaſts a cutting anguiſh blew..To fuch fad weight my gathering griefs were wrought,Life feem'd not life, but when convuls'dwith thought!Decreed beneath a mother's frown to pine,Madneſs were eafe, to mifery form'd like mine!2530Yet my Mufe waits thee through the realms of day,Where lambent lightnings round thy temples play.Sure my fierce woes will, like thofe fires, refine,Thus loſe their torture, and thus glorious ſhine!And now the Mufe heaven's milky path furveys,With thee, ' twixt pendent worlds, it wondering strays,Worlds which, unnumber'd as thy virtues, rollRound funs-fix'd, radiant emblems of thy foul!Hence144 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Hence lights refracted run through diftant ſkies,Changeful on azure plains in quivering dyes!So thy mind darted through its earthy frame,Awide, a various , and a glittering flame.Now a new ſcene enormous luftre brings,Nowferaphs fhade thee round with filver wings;In angel-forms thou feeft thy Rochford fhine;.In each fweet form is trac'd her beauteous line!Such was her foul, ere this felected mouldSprung at thy with, the fparkling life t' infold!So amidſt cherubs fhone her fon refin'd,Are infant- flesh the new-form'd foul enſhrin'd!So fhall a fequent race from Rochford rife,The world's fair pride-Defcendants of the ſkies.354:0I45TO THE EXCELLENTMIR AN D A,ECONSORT OF AARON HILL, ESQON READING HER POEMS.ACH foftening charm of Clio's fmiling fong,

Montague's foul, which ſhines divinely ftrong,Theſe blend, with graceful eafe, to form thy rhyme,Tender, yet chaſte; ſweet- founding, yet fublimeWiſdom and wit have made thy works their care,Each paffion glows, refin'd by precept, there:To fair Miranda's form each grace is kind;The Mufes and the Virtues tune thy mind.5VERSES[ 145 ]VER SE Sто AYOUNG LAD Y.POLLY, from me, though now a love - fick youth,Nay, though a poet, hear the voice of truth!Polly, you're not a beauty, yet you ' re pretty;So grave, yet gay; fo filly, yet ſo witty;A heart of foftnefs, yet a tongue of fatire;You've cruelty, yet, ev'n with that, good- nature:Now you are free, and now referv'd awhile;Now a forc'd frown betrays a willing fmile.Reproach'd for abfence, yet your fight deny'd;My tongue you filence, yet my filence chide.How would you praiſe me, fhould your fex defame!Yet, ſhould they praife, grow jealous, and exclaim .If I defpair, with fome kind look you bleſs;But if I hope, at once all hope ſuppreſs.5JOYou fcorn; yet fhould my paffion change, or fail, 15Too late you'd whimper out a ſofter tale .You love; yet from your lover's with retire;Doubt, yet difcern; deny, and yet defire.Such, Polly, are your fex-part truth, part fiction,Some thought, much whim, and all a contradiction. 20L THE[ 146 ]THEGENTLE M A N.AADDRESSED тоJOHN JOLIFFE, ESQ.Decent mein, an elegance of dress,Words, which, at eafe, each winning grace exprefs;A life, where love, by wiſdom polifh'd , fhines,Where wildom's felf again, by love, refines;Where we to chance for friendſhip never trust,Nor ever dread from fudden whim difguft;The focial manners, and the heart humane;A nature ever great, and never vain;A wit, that no licentious pertnefs knows;The fenfe, that unaffuming candour ſhows;Reaſon, by narrow principles uncheck'd,Slave to no party, bigot to no fe &t;10Knowledge of various life, of learning too;Thence tafte; thence truth, which will fromtafte enfue:Unwilling cenfure, though a judgment clear;Afmile indulgent, and that ſmile fincere;An humble, though an elevated mind;Apride, its pleaſure but to ferve mankind:If theſe eſteem and admiration raiſe;Give true delight, and gain unflattering praiſe,In one wifh'd view, th ' accompliſh'd man we ſee;Thefe graces all are thine, and thou art He.1520CHARA C1[ 147 ]CHARACTERO F THEREV. JAMES FOSTE R.FROM Codex hear, ye ecclefiaftic men ,This paftoral charge to Webfter, Stebbing, Ven;Attend, ye emblems of your P———— ' s mind!Mark Faith, mark Hope, mark Charity, defin'd;On terms, whence no ideas ye can draw,Pin well your faith, and then pronounce it law.Firft wealth, a crofier next, your hope enflame;And next church - power- a power o'er confcience,claim;In modes of worſhip right of choice deny;

5Say, to convert, all means are fair; -add, why? 10' Tis charitable—let your power decree,That Perfecution then is Charity;Call reafon error; forms, not things, diſplay;Let moral doctrine to abftrufe give way;Sink demonſtration; myſtery preach alone;Be thus Religion's friend, and thus your own.But Fofter well this honeft truth extendsWhere Mystery begins, Religion ends.15L 2In148 SAVAGE'SPOEMS.In him, great modern miracle! we feeA prieſt, from avarice and ambition free;One, whom no perfecuting fpuit fires;Whole heart and tongue benevolence inſpires:Learn'd , rot affuming; eloquent, yet plain;20Meek, though not timorcus; confcious, though notvain;Without craft, reverend; holy, without cant;Zealous for truth, without enthufiaft rant.His faith, where no credulity is ſeen,'Twixt infidel and bigot, marks the mean;His hope, no mitre militant on earth,25'Tis that bright crown, which heaven referves for worth.A prieſt, in charity with all mankind,His love to virtue, not to ſect confin'd:Truth his delight; from him it flames abroad,From him, who fears no being, but his God:In him from Chriftian, moral light can fhine;Not mad with mystery, but a found divine;He wins the wife and good, with reafon's lore;Then ftrikes their paffions with pathetic power;Where vice erects her head, rebukes the page;Mix'd with rebuke, perfuafive charms engage;Charms, which th' unthinking muſt to thought excite;Lo! vice lefs vicious! virtue more upright:35.40Him copy, Codex, that the good and wife,Who fo abhor thy heart, and head defpife,May fee thee now, though late, redeem thy name, 45And glorify what elfe is damn'd to fame.ButCHARACTER OF MR. FOSTER. 149But fhould fome churchman, apeing wit fevere,The poet ' s fure turn'd Baptiſt-ſay, and ſneer;Shame on that narrow mind fo often known,Which in one mode of faith, owns worth alone.Sneer on, rail , wrangle! nought this truth repelsVirtue is virtue, wherefoe'er the dwells;And fure, where learning gives her light to fhine,Her's is all praife-if her's, ' tis Fofter, thine.Thee boaft diffenters; we with pride may ownOur Tillotson; and Rome, her Fenelon * .5055THEPOET's DEPENDANCEON ASTATESMA N.SOME fem to hint , and others proof will bring,That, from neglect , my numerous hardshipsfpring.

• In this Character ofthe Rev. James Fofter, truth

guided the pen of the Mufe. Mr. Pope paid a tri- bute to the modeft worth of this excellent man: littledid he imagine his Rev. Annotator would endeavour to convert his praiſe into abuſe. The character andwritings of Fofter will be admired and read, whenthe works of the bitter Controverfialiſt are forgotten.L 3E.Seek150 SAVAGE'S POEMS.1Seek the great man! they cry-' tis then decreed,In him, if I court fortune, I fucceed.30What friends to fecond? who for me fhould fue, 5Have interefts, partial to themſelves, in view.They own my matchlefs fate compaffion draws;They all with well, lament, but drop my caufe.There are who afk no penfion , want no place,No title with, and would accept no grace.Can I entreat, they ſhould for me obtainThe leaft, who greatest for themſelves difdain?Aſtateſman, knowing this, unkind, will cry,Thofe love him: let thofe ferve him! -why ſhould I?Say, fhall I turn where lucre points my views; 15At first defert my friends, at length abuſe?But, on lefs terms, in promiſe he complies:Years bury years, and hopes on hopes ariſe;I truſt, am truſted on my fairy gain;And woes on woes attend, an endleſs train. 2025Be pofts difpos'd at will! -I have, for thefe,No gold to plead, no impudence to teaze.All fecret fervice from my foul I hate;All dark intrigues of pleaſure, or of ſtate.I have no power, election -votes to gain;No will to hackney out polemic ſtrain;To fhape, as time fhall ferve, my verſe, or proſe,To flatter thence, nor flur, a courtier's foes;Nor him to daub with praiſe, if I prevail;Nor fhock'd by him with libels to affail .Where theſe are not, what claim to me belongs?Though mine the Mufe and virtue, birth and wrongs.30WherePOET'S DEPENDANCE. 15135Where lives the ftatefman, fo in honour clear,To give where he has nought to hope, nor fear?No! —there to feek, is but to find freſh pain:The promiſe broke, renew'd, and broke again;To be, as humour deigns, receiv'd , refus'd;By turns affronted, and by turns amus'd;To lose that time, which worthier thoughts require;To lofe the health, which fhould thofe thoughts infpire;To ftarve on hope; or, like camelions , fareOn minifterial faith, which means but air.40But ftill, undrooping, I the crew diſdain,Who, or by jobs, or libels, wealth obtain.Ne'er let me be, through thofe, from want exempt; 45In one man's favour, in the world's contempt:Worſe in my own! —through thoſe, to poſts who rife,Themſelves, in fecret, muft themſelves defpife;Vile, and more vile, till they, at length, diſclaimNot ſenſe alone of glory, but of fhame. 5055What though I hourly fee the fervile herd,For meanness honour'd, and for guilt prefer'd;See felfish paffion, public virtue ſeem;And public virtue an enthuſiaſt dream;See favour'd falfehood , innocence belied,Meeknefs depreis'd, and power- elated pride; ·Aſcene will ſhew, all - righteous viſion haſte;The meek exalted, and the proud debas'd! --Oh, to be there! —to tread that friendly fhore,Where falfehood, pride, and ſtateſmen are no more! 60 L4But152 SAVAGE'S POEM S.But ere indulg'd-ere fate my breath fhall claim,Apoet ftill is anxious after fame.65What future fame would my ambition crave?This were my wiſh-could ought my memory fave,Say, when in death my forrows lie repos'd,That my past life no venal view diſclos'd;Say, I well knew, while in a ſtate obfcure,Without the being baſe, the being poor;Say, I had parts, too moderate to tranfcend:Yet fenfe to mean, and virtue not t'offend;My heart fupplying what my head denied,Say that, by Pope efteem'd I liv'd and died;Whofe writings the beſt rules to write could give;Whofe life the nobler fcience how to live.70ANEPISTLEDAMONTOAND DELIA.HEAR Damon, Delia hear, in candid lays,Truth without anger, without flattery, praiſe!A bookish mind, with pedantry unfraught,Oft a fedate, yet never gloomy thought:Prompt to rejoice, when others pleaſure know,And prompt to feel the pang for others woe;SΤοEPISTLE TO DAMON AND DELIA. 153To foften faults, to which a foe is prone,And, in a friend's perfection , praiſe your own:Awill fincere, unknown to felfifh views;A heart of love, of gallantry a Muſe;A delicate, yet not a jealous mind;A paffion ever fond, yet never blind,Glowing with amorous, yet with guiltless fires,In ever-eager, never grofs defires:A modeft honour, facred to contain101520From tattling vanity, when fmiles you gain;Conftant, moft pleas'd when beauty moft you pleaſe:Damon! your picture ' s fhewn in tints like theſe.Say, Delia, muft I chide you or commend?Say, must I be your flatterer or your friend?To praiſe no graces in a rival fair,Nor your own foibles in a fifter ſpare;Each lover's billet, bantering, to reveal,And never known one fecret to conceal;Young, fickle, fair, a levity inborn, 25To treat all fighing flaves with flippant fcorn;An eye, expreffive of a wandering mind:Nor this to read, nor that to think inclin'd;Or when a book, or thought, from whim retards,Intent on fongs or novels , drefs or cards; 30Choice to ſelect the party of delight,To kill time, thought, and fame, in frolic flight;To flutter here, to flurry there on wing;To talk, to teaze, to fimper, or to fing;To prude it, to coquet it-him to truft, 35Whofe vain, loofe life, fhould caution or diſguſt;Him154 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Him to diflike, whofe modeft worth ſhould pleaſe.-Say, is your picture ſhown in tints like theſe?Your's! —you deny it-Hear the point then tried,Let judgment, truth, the Mufe, and love decide. 40What your's!-Nay, faireft trifler, frown not fo:Is it the Mufe with doubt-Love anfwers NO:You fmile-Is ' t not? Again the question try! -Yes, judgment thinks, and truth will YES, reply.ΤΟMiss M ... H •1SENT WITHMR. POPE's WORK S.EE female vice and female folly here,SERaillied with wit polite, or lafh'd fevere:Let Pope preſent fuch objects to our view;Such are, my fair, the full reverſe of you.Rapt when, to Loddon's ftream * from Windfor'sfhades,He fings the modeſt charms of ſylvan maids.Dear Burford's hills in memory's eye appear,And Luddal's fpring § ftill murmurs in my ear:5ButAlluding to the beautiful Epifode of Loddoną,in Windfor Foreft.Afpring near Burford.TO MISS M. .. H .. 159IOBut when you ceaſe to bless my longing eyes,Dumb is the fpring, the joylefs profpect dies:Come then, my charmer, come! here tranfport reigns!New health, new youth, infpirits all my veins.Each hour let intercourfe of hearts employ,Thou life of loveliness! thou foul of joy!Love wakes the birds-oh, hear each melting lay! 15Love warms the world- come charmer, come away!But hark! -immortal Pope reſumes the lyre!Diviner airs, diviner flights, infpire:Hark where an angel's language tunes the line!See where the thoughts and looks of angels ſhine! 20Here he pour'd all the mufic of your tongue,And all your looks and thoughts, unconfcious, fung.ON THERECOVERY OF ALADY OF QUALITYFROM THE SMALL - POX.LONG a lov'd fair had bleſs'd her confort's fightWith amorous pride, and undiſturb'd delight;Till Death, grown envious with repugnant aim ,Frown'd at their joys, and urg'd a tyrant's claim.He156 SAVAGE'S POEM S.He fummons each difeafe! -the noxious crew,Writhing, in dire diſtortions, ſtrike his view!From various plagues, which various natures know,Forth rushes beauty's fear'd and fervent foe.Fierce to the fair, the miffile mifchief flies,The fanguine ftreams in raging ferments rife!It drives, ignipotent, through every vein,Hangs onthe heart, and burns, around the brain!Now a chill damp the charmer's luftre dims!Sad o'er her eyes the livid languor ſwims!Her eyes, that with a glance could jɔy infpire,Like ſetting ſtars , fcarce fhoot a glimmering fire.Here ftands her confort, fore, with anguish, preft,Grief in his eye, and terror in his breast.The Paphian Graces, fmit with anxious care,In filent forrow weep the waining fair.Eight funs, fucceffive, roll their fire away,5101520And eight flow nights fee their deep fhades decay.While thefe revolve, though mute each Mufe appears,Each ſpeaking eye drops eloquence in tears .--- On the ninth noon, great Phoebus, liftening bends! 25On the ninth noon, each voice in prayer aſcends!Great God of light, of ſong, and phyfic's art,Reftore the languid fair, new foul impart!Her beauty, wit, and virtue, claim thy care,Andthine own bounty's almoſt rival'd there. 30Each paus'd. The God affents. Would Death advance?Phoebus, unfeen, arrefts the threatening lance!DownON A LADY'S RECOVERY. 157Down from his orb a vivid influence ftreams,And quickening earth imbibes falubrious beams;Each balmy plant, encreaſe of virtue knows,And art, infpir'd, with all her patron, glows.The charmer's opening eye, kind hope, reveals,Kind hope, her confort's breast enlivening feels .Each grace revives, each Muſe refumes the lyre,Each beauty brightens with re- lumin'd fire.As Health's aufpicious powers gay life diſplay,Death, fullen at the fight, ftalks flow away.3540THEFRIEN D.ANEPISTL EтоAARON HILL, E SQMY lov'd Hill, O thou by heaven defign'dTo charm, to mend, and to adorn mankind! ·To thee my hopes, fears, joys, and forrows tend,Thou brother, father, neater yet! -thou friend!If worldly friendships oft cement, divide,As interefts vary, or as whims prefide;If leagues of luxury borrow friendship's light,Or leagues fubverſive of all ſocial right:SOfay,158 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Ofay, my Hill, in what propitious ſphere,Gain wethe friend, pure, knowing, and fincere? IO'Tis where the worthy and the wiſe retire;There wealth may learn its ufe, may love infpire;There may young worth, the nobleft end obtain,In want may friends, in friends may knowledge gain;In knowledge blifs; for wiſdom virtue finds,And brightens mortal to immortal minds.Kind then mywrongs, if love, like yours, fucceed!For you, like virtue, are a friend indeed .

152025Oft when you faw my youth wild error know,Reproof, foft- hinted, taught the bluſh to glow.Young and unform'd, you firſt my genius rais'd,Juft fmil'd when faulty, and when moderate prais'd .Me fhun'd, me ruin'd, fuch a mother's rage!You fung, till pity wept o'er every page.You call'd my lays and wrongs to early fameYet, yet, th' obudrate mother felt no fhame.Pierc'd as I was! your counfel foften'd care,'To eaſe turn'd anguish, and to hope deſpair.The man who never wound afflictive feels,He never felt the balmy worth that heals.Welcome the wound, when bleft with fuch relief!For deep is felt the friend, when felt in grief.fhall never, but with life, removeAfpiring genius, condefcending love.From youWhen fome, with cold, fuperior looks, redrefs,Relief feems infult, and confirms diſtreſs;You, when you view the man with wrongs befieg'd,While warm you act th' obliger, ſeem th' oblig'd.3035All.THE FRIEND. 159All-winning mild to each of lowly ſtate;To equals free, unfervile to the great; 40Greatness you honour, when by worth acquir'd;Worth is by worth in every rank admir'd.Greatneſs you ſcorn, when titles infult ſpeak;Proud to vain pride, to honour'd meeknefs meek.That worthless blifs, which others court, you fly; 45That worthy woe, they fhun, attracts your eye.But fhall the Muſe refound alone your praife?No-let the public friend exalt her lays!O trace that friend with me! —he's yours! —he ' smjne! -The world's-beneficent behold him fhine!Is wealth his fphere? If riches , like a tide,,From either India pour their golden pride;Rich in good works, him others wants employ;He gives the widow's heart to fing for joy.50To orphans, prifoners, fhall his bounty flow;The weeping family of want and woe.55Is knowledge his? Benevolently great,In leifure active, and in care fedate;What aid, his little wealth per chance denies,In each hard inftance his advice fupplies.With modeft truth he fets the wandering right,And gives religion pure, primæval light;In love diffufive, as in light refin'd,The liberal emblem of his Maker's mind.60Is power his orb? He then, like power divine, 65On all, though with a varied ray, will fhine.Ere1360 SAVAGE'SPOEMS.Ere power was his, the man, he once carefs'd,Meets the fame faithful fmile, and mutual breaft:But afks his friend fome dignity of ſtate;His friend, unequal to th’incumbent weight?Afks it a stranger, one whom parts infpireWith all a people's welfare would require?His choice admits no paufe; his gift will proveAll private, well abforb'd in public love.He fhields his country, when for aid fhe calls;Or, fhould the fall, with her he greatly falls:But, as proud Rome, with guilty conqueft crown'd ,Spread flavery, death and deſolation ´round,7075Should e'er his country, for dominion's prizeAgainst the fons of men a faction rife,Glory in hers, is in his eye difgrace;80The friend of truth; the friend of human race.Thus to no one, no fect, no clime confin'd,His boundless love embraces all mankind;And all their virtues in his life are known;And all their joys and forrows are his own.85Thefe are the lights, where ſtands that friend confeft;

This, this the fpirit, which informs thy breaft.Through fortune's cloud thy genuine worth can ſhine,What would't thou not, were wealth and greatnefsthine? goAN[ 161 ]A NEPISTLEMR.AUTHORTOJOHN DYER,OF GRONGAR HILL.In Anfwer to his from the Country +.NOWvarious birds in melting concert fing,And hail the beauty of the opening fpring:Now to thy dreams the nightingale complains,Till the lark wakes thee with her cheerful trainss;Wakes, in thy verfe and friendship ever kind,Melodious comfort to my jarring mind.510Oh could myfoul through cepths of knowledge fee,Could I read nature and mankind like thee,I fhould o'ercome, or bear the fhocks of fate,And e'en draw envy to the humbleſt ſtate.Thou canst raife honour from each ill event,From fhocks gain vigour, and from want content.Think not light poetry my life's chief care!The Mufe's manſion is , at best, but air;But, if more folid works my meaning forms,Th' unfinish'd ftructures fall by fortune's ftorms.Oft have I faid we falfely thofe accuſe,Whofe god-like fouls life's middle ftate refuſe.Self-love, I cry'd, there feeks ignoble reft;15Care fleeps not calm, when millions wake unbleft; 20MSee Dyer's Poems.Mean162 SAVAGE'SPOEM S.Mean let me fhrink, or ſpread ſweet ſhade o'er all,Low as the hub, or as the cedar tall! —'Twas vain! ' twas wild -I fought the middle ſtate,And found the good, and found the truly great.Though verfe can never give my foul her aim; 25Though action only claims fubftantial fame;Though fate denies what my proud wants require,Yet grant me, heaven, by knowledge to aípire:Thus to enquiry let me prompt the mind;Thus clear dimm'd truth, and bid her bleſs mankind; 30From the pierc'd orphan thus draw ſhafts of grief,Arm want with patience, and teach wealth relief!To ferve lov'd liberty infpire my breath!Or, if mylife be ufelefs, grant me death;For he, who ufelefs is in life furvey'd,Burthens that world, his duty bids him aid.Say, what have honours to allure the mind,Which he gains moft, who leaft has ferv'd mankind?Titles, when worn by fools, I dare deſpiſe;35Yet they claim homage, when they crown the wife. 40When high distinction marks deferving heirs,Defert ftill dignifies the mark it wears.But, who to birth alone would honours owe?Honours, if true, from feeds of merit grow.Thofe trees, with ſweeteſt charms, invite our eyes, 45Which, from our own engraftment, fruitful riſe .Still we love beft what we with labour gain ,As the child's dearer for the mother's pain .The Great I would not envy nor deride;Nor ftoop to fwell a vain Superior's pride; 50NorEPISTLE TO MR. DYER. 163Nor view an Equal's hope with jealous eyes;Nor cruſh the wretch beneath who wailing lies.Myfympathizing breaſt his grief can feel,And my eye weep the wound I cannot heal.Ne'er among friendships let me fow debate,Nor by another's fall advance my ſtate;Nor mifufe wit against an abfent friend:Let me the virtues of a foe defend!55In wealth and want true minds preferve their weight;Meek, though exalted; though difgrac'd, elate; 60Generous and grateful, wrong'd or help'd, they live;Grateful to ferve, and generous to forgive.65This maythey learn, who cloſe thy life attend;Which, dear in memory, ſtill inftructs thy friend .Though cruel diſtance bars my groffer eye,Myfoul, clear- fighted, draws thy virtue nigh;Through her deep woe that quickening comfort gleams,And lights up Fortitude with Friendſhip's beams.VERSE SOCCASIONED BY THEVICE - PRINCIPAL of St MARY- HALL, OXFORD,Being prefented by the Honourable Mrs. KNIGHT,to the Living of GOSFIELD in ESSEX.HILE by mean arts and meaner patrons rife WEPriefs, whomthe learned andthe good defpife;This fees fair Knight, in whoſe tranſcendent mind,Are wisdom, purity, and truth enfhrin'd .M 2A164 SAVAGE'S POEMS.A modeft merit now the plans to lift,Thy living, Godsfield! falls her inſtant gift.Let me (fhe faid) reward alone the wife,And make the church - revenue Virtue's prize.She fought the man of honeſt, candid breaſt,In faith, in works of goodnefs, full expreft;Though young, yet tutoring academic youthTo ſcience moral, and religious truth.She fought where the difintereſted friend,The ſcholar, fa*ge, and free companion blend;The pleafing poet, and the deep divine,S1015She fought, the found, and, Hart! the prize was thine.FUAL V I A.POE M.L'ET Fulvia's wifdom be a flave to will ,Her darling paffions, ſcandal and quadrille;On friends and foes her tongue a fatire known,Her deeds a fatire on herſelf alone .On her poor kindred deigns the word or look?'Tis cold refpect, or ' tis unjuſt rebuke;Worſe when good- natur'd, than when moſt ſevere;The jeft impure then pains the modeſt ear.How just the sceptic! the divine how odd!What turns of wit play fmartly on her God!SIOTheFULVI A, A POEM. 165The fates, my neareſt kindred, foes decree:Fulvia, when piqu'd at them, ftrait pities me.She, like Benevolence, a ſmile beſtows,Favours to me indulge her fpleen to thoſe.The banquet ferv'd, with peereffes I fit:She tells my ftory, and repeats my wit.With mouth diftorted, through a founding nofeIt comes, now homelinefs more homely grows.With fee faw founds and nonſenſe not my own,She fkrews her features, and ſhe cracks her tone.How fine your Baftard! why fo ſoft a ſtrain?What fuch a Mother? fatirize again!Oft I object-but fix'd is Fulvia's willAh! though unkind, fhe is my mother ſtill!1520The verfe now flows, the manufcript the claims. 25'Tis fam'd-The fame, each curious fair enflames:The wild-fire runs; from copy, copy grows:The Brets , alarm'd, a ſeparate peace propofe.'Tis ratified- How alter'd Fulvia's look!Mywit ' s degraded, and my cauſe forf*ck.Thus fhe: What ' s poetry but to amuſe?Might I adviſe-there are more folid views.With a cool air fhe adds: This tale is old:Were it my cafe, it fhould no more be told.Complaints-bad I been worthy to adviſeYou know-But when are wits , like women, wife?True it may take; but, think whate'er you lift,All love the fatire, none the fatiriſt.I ftart, I ftare, ſtand fix'd, then pauſe awhile;Then heſitate, then ponder well, then ſmile.M 3.303540Ma-166 SAVAGE'S POEMS.+Madam-a penfion loft-and where's amends?Sir (the replies) indeed you 'll lofe your friends.Why did I start? ' twas but a change of windOr the fame thing-the lady chang'd her mind.I bow, depart, deſpiſe, diſcern her all:Nanny revifits, and difgrac'd I fall .Let Fulvia's friendſhip whirl with every whim!Areed, a weather- co*ck, a fhade, a dream:No more the friendſhip ſhall be now diſplay'dBy weather- co*ck, or reed, or dream, or ſhade;To Nanny fix'd unvarying ſhall it tend,For fouls, fo form'd alike, were form'd to blend.45૩૦E PI TAP HON AYOUNG LADY.LOS'D are thoſe eyes, that beam'd feraphic fireCLOCold is that breaſt, which gave the world defire;Mute is the voice where winning ſoftneſs warm'd,Where muſic melted, and where wiſdom charm'd,And lively wit, which, decently confin'd,No prude e'er thought impure, no friend unkind.Could modeft knowledge, fair untrifling youth,Perfuafive reafon and endearing truth,

5CouldEPITAPH ON A LADY. 167Could honour, fhewn in friendſhips moſt refin'd,And fenfe, that ſhields th' attempted virtuous mind; 10The focial temper never known to ſtrife,The heightening graces that embelliſh life;Could thefe have e'er the darts of death defied,Never, ah! never had Melinda died;Nor can fhe die-ev'n now furvives her name,Immortaliz'd by friendſhip, love, and fame.15THEGENIUS OF LIBERTY.A POE M.Occafioned by the DEPARTURE of the Prince andPrincefs of ORANGE.(Written in the Year 1734.)MILD rofe the morn! the face of nature bright Wore one extenfive fmile of calm and light;

Wide, o'er the land, did hovering filence reign ,Wide o'er the blue diffuſion of the main;When lo! before me, on the fouthern fhore,Stood forth the power, whom Albion's fons adoreBleft Liberty! whofe charge is Albion's ifle;Whom Reaſon gives to bloom, and Truth to ſmile;Gives Peace to gladden, fheltering Law to ſpread,Learning to lift aloft her laurel'd head,M 45ΤΟRich168 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Rich Induſtry to view, with pleafing eyes,Her fleets, her cities, and her harvests rife.In curious emblems every art, expreſt,Glow'd from the loom, and brighten'd on his veft.Science in various lights attention won,Way'd on his robe, and glitter'd in the fun .15My words, he cried, my words obfervance claim:Refound, ye Muſes; and receive them, Fame!Here was my ſtation , when, o'er ocean wide,The great, third William ftretch'd his naval pride: 20I with my facred influence fwell'd his foul;Th' enflav'd to free, th' enflaver to control.In vain did waves difperfe, and winds detain:He came, he fav'd; in his was feen my reign.How juft, how great, the plan his foul defign'd,To humble tyrants, and fecure mankind!Next Marlborough in his fteps fuccessful trod:This, godlike plann'd; that, finish'd like a god!And, while Oppreffion fled to realms unknown,Europe was free, and Britain glorious fhone,Where Naffau's race extenfive growth diſplay'd,There Freedom ever found a fheltering fhade.Still heaven is kind! -See, from the princely root,Millions to blefs, the BRANCH aufpicious ſhoot.!He lives, he flourishes, his honours ſpread;Fair virtues blooming on his youthful head:Nurfe him, ye heavenly dews, ye funny rays,Into firm health, fair fame, and length of days!He paus'd, and cafting o'er the deep his eye,Where the last billow fwells into the ſky,25303540Where,THE GENIUS OF LIBERTY. 1.69Where, in gay viſion , round th ' horizon's line,.The moving clouds with various beauty fhine;As dropping from their bofom, ting'd with gold,Shoots forth a fail , amufive to behold!Lo! while its light the glowing wave returns,Broad like a fun the bark approaching burns.Near, and more near, great Naſſau foon he ſpy'd,And beauteous Anna, Britain's eldeſt pride!Thus fpoke the Genius, as advanc'd the fail45Hail, blooming hero! high-born princefs, hail! 50Thy charms thy mother's love of truth diſplay,Her light of virtue, and her beauty's ray;Her dignity; which, copying the divine,Soften'd, through condefcenfion, learns to fhine.Greatness of thought, with prudence for its guide; 55Knowledge, from nature and from art ſupply'd;To noblest objects pointed various ways;Pointed by judgment's clear, unerring rays.What manly virtues in her mind excel!Yet on her heart what tender paſſions dwell!For ah! what pangs did late her peace deſtroy,To part with thee, fo wont to give her joy!How heav'd her breaft! how fadden'd was her mein!All in the mother then was loft the queen.60The fwelling tear then dimm'd her parting view, 65The ftruggling figh ftopp'd ſhort her laft adieu:Ev'n now thy fancied perils fill her mind;The fecret rock, rough wave, and rifing wind;The fhoal, fo treacherous, near the tempting land;Th' ingulphing whirlpool, and the ſwallowing fand; 70.Thefe170 SAVAGE'S POEM 6.Thefe fancied perils all, by day, by night,In thoughts alarm her, and in dreams affright!For thee her heart unceasing love declares,In doubts, in hopes, in wiſhes, and in prayers!Her prayers are heard! -For me, ' tis thine to brave 75The fand, the foal, rock, whirlpool , wind, and wave:Kind Safety waits, to waft thee gently o'er,And Joy to greet thee on the Belgic ſhore.80Mayfuture times, when their fond praiſe would tellHow moft their favourite characters excel;How bleft! how great! -then may their fongs declare,So great! fo bleft! —ſuch Anne and Naſſau were.E GRECO RUF.QUI TE VIDET BEATUS EST,BEATIOR QUI TE AUDIET,QUI BASIAT SEMIDEUS EST,QUI TE POTITUR EST DEUS .BUCHANAN.THE FOREGOING LINES PARAPHRASED .HI.APPY the man, who , in thy ſparkling eyes,His amorous wiſhes fees, reflecting, play;Sees little laughing Cupids, glancing, rife,And, in foft-fwimming languor, die away.11.Still happier he! to whom thy meanings rollIn founds which love, harmonious love inspire;On his charm'd ear fits, rapt, his liſtening foul,Till admiration form intenfe defire.III.E GRÆCO RUF. 171III.Half-deity is he who warm may prefsThy lip, foft- fwelling to the kindling kiſs;And may that lip affentive warmth exprefs ,Till love draw willing love to ardent bliſs!IV.Circling thy waiſt, and circled in thy arms,Who, melting on thy mutual- melting breaſt,Entranc'd enjoys love's whole luxrious charms,3 Is all a God!-is of all heaven poffeft.THEEMPLOYMENT OF BEAUTY.A PO E M.Addreffed to Mrs. BRIDGET JONES, a young WidowLady of Llanelly, Carmarthenshire.ONCE Beauty, withing fond defire to move,Contriv'd to catch the heart of wandering Love.Come, pureft atoms! Beauty aid implores;For new foft texture leave ætherial ftores.They come, they croud, they flining hues unfold, 5Be theirs a form, which Beauty's ſelf ſhall mould!To mould my charmer's form ſhe all apply'dWhence Cambria boaſts the birth of Nature's pride.She calls the Graces- Such is Beauty's ftate,Prompt, at her call , th ' obedient Graces wait. ΤΟFirft172 SAVAGE'S POEM S.First your fair feet they ſhape, and ſhape to pleaſe;Each ſtands defign'd for dignity and eaſe.Firm, on theſe curious pedestals, dependTwo poliſh'd pillars; which, as fair, aſcend;From well-wrought knees, more fair, more large, they rife;Seen by the Muſe, though hid from mortal eyes.More polish'd yet, your fabric each fuſtains;That pureft temple where perfection reigns.A fmall, ſweet circle forms your faultleſs waiſt,By Beauty fhap'd, to be by Love embrac'd.Beyond that leffening waift, two orbs devife,What fwelling charms, in fair proportion , riſe!Freſh peeping there, two bluſhing buds are found,Each like a rofe, which lilies white furround.There feeling fenfe, let pitying fighs inſpire,Till panting pity fwells to warm defire:Defire, though warm, is chafte; each warmest kifs,All rapture chafte, when Hymen bids the bliſs.Rounding and foft, two taper arms defcend;Two fnow-white hands, in taper fingers, end.Lo cunning Beauty, on each palm, defignsLove's fortune and your own, in myftic lines;And lovely whiteneſs, either arm contains,Diverſified , with azure- wandering veins;The wandering veins conceal a generous flood,The purple treaſure of celeſtial blood .Rounding and white your neck, as curious, rears3520253035O'er all a face, where Beauty's felf appears.HerTHE EMPLOYMENT OF BEAUTY. 17340Her foft attendants finooth the ſpotleſs ſkin,And, ſmoothly- oval, turn the ſhapely chin;The ſhapely chin , to Beauty's riſing face,Shall, doubling gently, give a double grace,And foon ſweet- opening, rofy lips diſcloſeThe well - rang'd teeth , in lily-whitening rows;Here life is breath'd, and florid life affumesA breath, whofe fragrance vies with vernal blooms;And two fair cheeks give modeſty to raiſe4550A. beauteous blush at praife, though just the praife.And nature now, from each kind ray, ſuppliesSoft, clement fmiles, and love- inspiring eyes;New Graces, to thofe eyes, mild fhades, allow;Fringe their fair lids, and pencil either brow.While fenfe of vifion lights up orbs fo rare,May none, but pleaſing objects, viſit there!Two little porches, ( which, one fenfe empowers, 55To draw rich fcent from aromatic flowers)In structure neat, and deck'd with polish'd grace,Shall equal first , then heighten, Beauty's face.To fmelling fenfe, oh, may the flowery year,It's first, laft, choiceft incenfe, offer here!Transparent next, two curious crefcents boundThe two-fold entrance of infpiring ſound,And, granting a new power of fenfe to hear,New finer organs form each curious ear;Form to imbibe what moft the foul can move,Mufic and Reaſon, Poefy and Love.Next, on an open front, is pleafing wroughtA penfive ſweetneſs, born of patient thought:6065Above174 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Above your lucid ſhoulders locks diſplay'd,Prone to defcend, ſhall ſoften light with fade.All, with a nameleſs air and mein, unite,And, as you move, each movement is delight.Tun'd is your melting tongue and equal mind,At once by knowledge heighten'd and refin'd.The Virtues next to Beauty's nod incline;For, where they lend not light, ſhe cannot ſhine;Let thefe, the temperate fenfe of taſte reveal,And give, while nature ſpreads the ſimple meal.The palate pure, to relish health deſign'd,From luxury as taintless as your mind.The Virtues, Chaſtity and Truth, impart,And mould to fweet benevolence your heart.Thus Beauty finish'd-Thus the gains the fway,And Love ftill follows where he leads the way.From every gift of heaven , to charm is thine;To love, to praife, and to adore, be mine.70758085SENT тоMRS. BRIDGET JONES,With THE WANDERER.Alluding to an Epifode, where a young Man turnsHermit, for the loſs of his wife Olympia.WHEHEN with delight fond Love on Beauty dwelt,While this the youth, and that the fair expreft,Faint was his joy compar'd to what I felt,When in my angel Biddy's prefence bleft .TellON FALSE HISTORIANS. 175Tell her, my Mufe, in foft, fad, fighing breath,If the his piercing grief can pitying fee,Worfe than to him was his Olympia's death,From her each moment's abfence is to me.ONFALSE HISTORIANS:SUREA SATIRE.URE of all plagues with which dull profe is curft,Scandals, from falfe hiftorians, fpot the worst.In queft oftheſe the Muſe ſhall firſt advance,Bold, to explore the regions of romance;Romance, call'd Hiftory-Lo! at once the ſkimsThe viſionary world of monkiſh whims;Where failacy, in legends, wildly fhines,And vengeance glares from violated ſhrines;Where faints perform all tricks , and ſtartle thoughtWith many a miracle that ne'er was wrought;Saints that never liv'd, or fuch as juftice paints,Jugglers, on fuperftition palm'd for faints.Here, canoniz'd, let creed-mongers be shown,Red-letter'd faints, and red affaffins known;While thoſe they martyr'd, ſuch as angels roſe!All black enroll'd among religion's foes,51015Snatch'd176 SAVAGE'SPOEMS.Snatch'd by fulphureous clouds, a LYE proclaimsNumber'd with fiends , and plung'd in endleſs flames.Hiſtory, from air or deep draws many a fpright,Such as, from nurfe or priest, might boys affright; 20Or fuch as but o'er feverish flumbers fly,And fix in melancholy frenzy's eye.Now meteors make enthuſiaſt-wonder ftare,And image wild portentous wars in air!Seers fall intranc'd! fome wizard's lawleſs ſkill 25Now whirls, now fetters nature's works at will!Thus Hiftory, by machine, mock- epic, feems,Not from poetic, but from monkiſh dreams.The devil, who priest and forcerer muſt obey,The forcerer us'd to raiſe , the parfon lay.When Echard wav'd his pen, the hiſtory flows,The parfon conjur'd , and the fiend uproſe.Acamp at distance, and the ſcene a wood,Here enter'd Noll , and there old Satan ſtood:No tail his rump, his foot no hoof reveal'd;Like a wife cuckold, with his horns conceal'd:Not a gay ferpent, glittering to the eye;But more than ferpent, or than harlot fly:For, lawyer- like, a fiend no wit can ſcape,3035The demon ftands confeft in proper ſhape! 40Now fpreads his parchment, now is fign'd the fcrollThus Noll gains empire, and the devil has Noll.Wondrous hiftorian! thus account for evil ,And thus for its fuccefs -' tis all the devil.Though ne'er that devil we faw, yet one we fee,- 45One of an author fure, and-thou art he.ButON FALSE HISTORIANS. 177But dufky phantoms, Mufe, no more purſue!Now clearer objects open-yet untrue.Awful the genuine hiftorian's name!5560Falfe ones-with what materials build they fame; 50)Fabricks of fame, by dirty means made good,As nefts ofmartins are compil'd of mud.Peace be with Curll- with him I wave all ftrife,Who pens each felon's, and each actor's life;Biography that cooks the devil's martyrs,And lards with luscious rapes the cheats of Chartres.Materials, which helief in gazettes claim,Looſe-ftrung, run gingling into Hiſtory's name. ,Thick as Egyptian clouds of raining fliesAs thick as worms where man corrupting lies;As peſts obſcene that haunt the ruin'd pile;As monſters floundering in the muddy Nile;Minutes, Memoirs, Views and Reviews appear,Where flander darkens each recorded year,In a paft reign is feign'd fome amorous league;Some ring or letter now reveals th' intrigue:Queens, with their minions, work unfeemly things,And boys grow dukes, when catamites to kings.Does a prince, die? What poifons they furmife!No royal mortal fure by nature dies , 、 ..65)70Is a prince born? What birth more baſe believ'd?Or, what's more ftrange, his mother ne'er conceiv'd!Thus flander popular o'er truth prevails,And eaſy minds imbibe romantic tales.Thus, ' tead of history, fuch authors raiſeMere crude wild novels of bad hints for plays.N75}Some178 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Some ufurp names-an Engliſh garreteer,From Minutes forg'd, is Monſieur MeſnagerSome, while on good or ill fuccefs they ſtare,Give conduct a complexion dark or fair:Others, as little to enquiry prone,80Account for actions, though their ſpring ' s unknown,One ſtateſman vices has, and virtues too;Hence will conteſted character enfue.View but the black, he's fiend; the bright but fcan, 85He's angel: view him all-he's ſtill a man.But fuch historians all accufe, acquit;No virtue theſe, and thoſe no vice admit;For either in a friend no fault will know,And neither own a virtue in a foe.Where hear-fay knowledge fits on public names,And bold conjecture or extols or blames,Spring party- libels; from whoſe aſhes dead,Amonfter, mifnam'd Hiſtory, lifts its head.Contending factions croud to hear its roar!But when once heard, it dies to noise no more.From theſe no anſwer, no applauſe from thoſe,O'er half they fimper, and o'er half they doze.So when in fenate, with egregious pate,Perks Sir . in ſome deep debate; up9095100HeTHE MINUTES OF MONS. MESNAGER; abook calculated to vilify the adminiſtration in the four last years of queen Anne's reign . The truth is, thatthis libel was not written by Monf. Mefnager, neitherwas any fuch book ever printed in the French tongue,from which it is impudently faid in the title- page tobe tranflated. SAVAGE.ON FALSE HISTORIANS. 179105He hems, looks wife, tunes thin his labouring throat,To prove black white, poftpone or palm the vote:In fly contempt, fome, Hear him! Hear him! cry;Some yawn, fome fneer; none fecond, none reply.But dare fuch mifcreants now rush abroad,By blanket, cane, pump, pillory, unaw'd?Dare they imp falfehood thus, and plume her wings,From prefent characters and recent things?Yes: What untruths! or truths in what diſguiſe!What Boyers and what Oldmixons arife!110What facts from all but them and Slander ſcreen'd?Here meets a council, no where elſe conven'd;There, from originals, come, thick as ſpawn,Letters ne'er wrote, memorials never drawn;To fecret conference never held they yoke,Treaties ne'er plann'd, and fpeeches never spoke.From, Oldmixon, thy brow, too well we know,Like fin from Satan's far and wide they go.115In vain may St. John fafe in confcience fit;In vain with truth confute, contemn with wit:Confute, contemn, amid felected friends;There finks the juftice, there the fatire ends.Here, though a century ſcarce fuch leaves unclofe,From mould and duft the flander facred grows.Nownone reply where all deſpiſe the page;But will dumb fcorn deceive no future age?Then, fhould dull periods cloud not ſeeming fact,Will no fine pen th' unanfwer'd lie extract?Well-fet in plan, and polifh'd into ftile,Fair and more fair may finiſh'd fraud beguile;320125139N 2 By180 SAVAGESPOEMS..By every language fnatch'd, by time receiv'd,In every clime, by every age believ'd:How vain to virtue truft the great their name,When fuch their lot for infamy or fame?ACHARACTER.FAAIR Truth, in courts where Justice fhould prefide,Alike the Judge and Advocate would guide;And thefe would vie each dubious point to clear,To stop the widow's and the orphan's tear;Were all, like Yorke, of delicate addreſs,Strength to difcern, and fweetnefs to exprefs,Learn'd, juft, polite, born every heart to gain,Like Cummins mild; like * Fortefcue humane,All-eloquent of truth, divinely known,So deep, fo clear, all Science is his own.Of heart impure, and impotent of head,10In hiftory, rhetoric, ethics, law, unread;How far unlike fuch worthies, once a drudge,From floundering in low cafes, rofe a Judge.Form'dtomakepleaders laugh,his nonfenfethunders, 15And, on low juries, breathes contagious blunders.HisThe honourable William Fortefcue, Efq; one ofthe Juftices of His Majeſty's Court of Common Pleas.A CHARACTER. 181& 2025His brothers blufh , becauſe no bluſh he knows,Nor e'er " one uncorrupted finger fhows. "See, drunk with power, the circuit- lord expreft!Full, in his eye, his betters ftand confelt;Whoſe wealth, birth, virtue, from a tongue ſo looſe,'Scape not provincial , vile, buffoon abuſe.Still to what circuit is affign'd his name,There, fwift before him, fiies the warner-Fame.Conteft ftops fhort, Confent yields every cauſeTo Coft; Delay, endures them, and withdraws.But how ' cape prifoners? To their trial cha'n'd,All, all fhail ſtand condemn'd, who ftand arraign'd.Dire guilt, which elfe would deteftation caufe,Prejudg'd with infult, wonderous pity draws.But 'fcapes e'en Innocence his harſh harangue?Alas! e'en Innocence itfeif must hang;Muft hang to pleaſe him , when of spleen poffet;:Must hang to bring forth an abortive jeſt.30Why liv'd he not ere Star- chambers had fail'd, 3 $When fine, tax, cenfure, all but law prevail'd;'Or law, fubfervient to fome murderous will,Became a precedent to murder ſtill?Yet e'en when patriots did for traitors bleed,Was e'er the jobb to ſuch a ſlave decreed ,Whofe favage mind wants fophift-art to draw,O'er murder'd virtue, fpecious veils of law?Why, Student, when the bench your youth admits;Where, though the worst, with the beſt rank'd he fits;N 327 WhereWhen Page one uncorrupted finger fhows.40D. of WHARTON.182 SAVAGE'S POEMS.Where found opinions you attentive write,As once a Raymond, now a Lee to cite,Why pauſe you fcornful when he dins the court?Note well his cruel quirks, and well report.Let his own words against himſelf point clearSatire more fharp than verfe when moſt ſevere.4550EPITAP HON MRS. JONES,Grandmother to Mrs. BRIDGET JONES, of Llanellyin Carmarthenshire.I'N her, whofe relicks mark this facred earth,Shone all domeftic and all focial worth:First, heaven her hope with early offspring crown'd;And thence a fecond race rofe numerous round.Heaven to induſtrious virtue bleſſing lent,And all was competence, and all content.Though frugal care, in Wiſdom's eye admir'd,Knew to preferve what induſtry requir'd;Yet, at her board, with decent plenty bleft,The journeying ſtranger fat a welcome gueſt.Preft on all fides, did trading neighbours fearRuin, which hung o'er exigence fevere?Farewell the friend, who ſpar'd th' affiftant loanAneighbour's woe or welfare was her own.S10DidVALENTINE'S DAY. 183Did piteous lazars oft attend her door?She gave farewell the parent of the poor.15Youth, age, and want, once cheer'd, now fighing fwell,Bless her lov'd name, and weep a laſt farewel.

VALENTINE'S DAY.. A PO E M. ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG WIDOW LADY..

See "St. Valentine's Day (Richard Savage) "

JOHN POWELL, ESQ. BARRISTER AT LAW. [and the rest]

N me long abfent, long with anguiſh fraught,INIn me, though filence long has deaden'd thought,Yet memory lives, and calls the Muſe's aid,To fnatch our friendſhip from oblivion's fhade.AsTO MR. JOHN POWELL. 189As fcon the fun fhall ceafe the world to warm ,

As foon Llannelly's Fair that world to charnı,As grateful fenſe of goodneſs, true like thine,Shall e'er defert a breaft fo warm as mine.When imag'd Cambria ſtrikes my memory's eye,(Cambria, my darling ſcene! ) I , fighing, cryWhere is my Powell? dear aſſociate! —where?To him I would unbofom every care;To him , who early felt, from beauty, pain;Gall'd in a plighted, faithlefs virgin's chain .At length, from her ungenerous fetters, freed,Again he loves! he woos! his hopes fucceed!But the gay bridegroom, ftill by fortune croft,Is, inftant, in the weeping widower loft.51015Her, his fole joy! her from his boſom torn,What feeling heart, but learns, like his, to mourn? 20Can nature then, ſuch ſudden ſhocks , ſuſtain?Nature thus ftruck , all reafon pleads in vain!Though late, from reafon yet he draws relief,Dwells on her memory; but difpels his grief.Love, wealth, and fame (tyrannic paffions all!)No more enflame him, and no more enthral.He feeks no more, in Rufus' hall, renown;Nor envies Pelf the jargon of the gown;But pleas'd with competence, on rural plains,His wifdom courts that eafe his worth obtains.Would private jars, which fudden riſe, encreaſe?His candour fmiles all difcord into peace.Mrs Bridget Jones.2530То190 SAVAGE'S POEMS.·To party ftorms is public weal refign'd?Each ſteady patriot-virtue ſteers his mind .Calm, on the beach, while maddening billows rave, 35He gains philofophy from every wave;Science, from every object round, he draws;From various nature, and from nature's laws.He lives o'er every paſt hiſtoric age;He calls forth ethics from the fabled page.Him evangelic truth, to thought excites;40And him, by turns, each claffic Mufe delights.With wit well-natur'd; wit, that would disdainA pleaſure riſing from another's pain;Social to all, and moſt of bliſs poſſeſt, 45When moſt he renders all, around him, bleft:To unread 'fquires illiterately gay;Among the learn'd, as learned full as they;With the polite, all , all - accompliſh'd eaſe,By nature form'd, without deceit, to pleaſe. 50Thus ſhines thy youth; and thus my friend, elateIn blifs as well as worth, is truly great.Me ftill fhould ruthleſs fate, unjust, expoſeBeneath thoſe clouds, that rain unnumber'd woes;Me, to fome nobler ſphere, ſhould fortune raiſe,Towealth conſpicious, and to laurel'd praiſe;Unalter'd yet be love and friendſhip mine;I ftill am Chloe's, and I still am thine.55LON-[ 191 ]LONDON AND BRISTOLTWDELINEATE D.WOfea-port cities mark Britannia's fame,Andthefe fromcommercedifferent honoursclaim.What different honours fhall the Mufes pay,While one infpires and one untunes the lay?Now filver Ifis brightening flows along,Echoing from Oxford ſhore each claffic fong;Then weds with Tame; and thefe, O London, feeSwelling with naval pride, the pride of thee!Wide, deep, unfullied Thames, meandering glidesAnd bears thy wealth on mild majestic tides.Thy fhips, with gilded palaces that vie,In glittering pomp, ftrike wondering China's eye;And thence returning bear, in fplendid ſtate,To Britain's merchants, India's eaſtern freight.India, her treaſures from her weſtern ſhores,Due at thy feet, a willing tribute pours;Thy warring navies diftant nations awe,And bid the world obey thy righteous law.Thus fhine thy manly ſons of liberal mind;Thy change deep- buſied, yet as courts refin'd;1520Councils,The author preferr'd this title to that of LONDONAND BRISTOL COMPARED; which, when he beganthe piece, he intended to prefix to it.192 SAVAGE'S POEM S.Councils, like fenates, that enforce debateWith fluent eloquence and reafon's weight.Whofe patriot virtue, lawleſs power controls;Their British emulating Roman fouls.Of thefe,the worthieft ftill felected stand,Still lead the fenate, and ftill fave the land:Social, not felfish, here, O Learning, traceThy friends, the lovers of all human race!In a dark bottom funk, O Briſtol now,With native malice, lift thy lowering brow!Then as fome hell born fprite in mortal guife,Borrows the shape of goodnefs and belies,All fair, all fmug, to yon proud hall invite,To feaft all ſtrangers ape an air polite!2539From Cambria drain'd, or England's western coaft, 35Not elegant, yet coftly banquets boaſt!Revere, or feem the ſtranger to revere;Praife, fawn, profeſs, be all things but fincereInfidious now, our bofom fecrets ſteal,And theſe with fly farcaftic fneer reveal .Prefent we meet thy fneaking treacherous fmiles;The harmleſs abfent ftill thy fneer reviles;Such as in thee all parts fuperior find,40The fneer that marks the fool and knave combin'd;When melting pity would afford relief, 45The ruthlefs fneer that infult adds to grief.Whatfriendship canft thou boaſt? what honours claim?To thee each ſtranger owes an injur'd name.What fmiles thy fons muft in their foes excite!Thy fons, to whom all diſcord is delight;.50FromLONDON AND BRISTOL, &c. 193From whom eternal mutual railing flows;Who in each other's crimes, their own expofe:Thy fons, though crafty, deaf to wisdom's call;Defpifing all men, and deſpis'd by all;Sons, while thy cliffs a ditch-like river laves,Rude as thy rocks, and muddy as thy waves,Of thoughts as narrow as of words immenfe,As full of turbulence as void of fenfe?Thee, thee, what fenatorial fouls adorn!Thy natives fure would prove a fenate's ſcorn.Do ftrangers deign to ſerve thee; what their praiſe?Their generous fervices thy murmurs raiſe.556065What fiend malign, that o'er thy air prefides,Around from breaſt to breaſt inherent glides,And, as he glides, there fcatters in a triceThe lurking feeds of every rank device?Let foreign youths to thy indentures run!Each, each will prove, in thy adopted ſon,Proud, pert, and dull -though brilliant once from ſchools,Will ſcorn all learning's as all virtue's rules;And, though by nature friendly, honeſt, brave,Turn a fly, ſelfiſh , fimpering, ſharping knave.Boaft petty- courts, where ' ftead of fluent eafe,Of cited precedents and learned pleas;70'Stead of fa*ge counſel in the dubious cauſe, 75Attornies, chattering wild, burlefque the laws-(So fhameless quacks, who doctors rights invade,Ofjargon and of poiſon form a trade.So194 SAVAGE'S POEM S.So canting coblers, while from tubs they teach,Buffoon the gofpel they pretend to preach. )Boaft petty courts, whence rules new rigour draw,Unknown to Nature's and to Statute- law;Quirks that explain all ſaving rights away,To give th' attorney and the catchpoll prey.80Is there where law too rigorous may defcend,Or charity her kindly hand extend?85Thy courts, that, fhut when pity would redreſs,Spontaneous open to inflict diftrefs.Try miſdemeanours! -all thy wiles employ,Not to chaſtiſe th' offender, but deſtroy;Bid the large lawleſs fine his fate foretel;Bid it beyond his crime and fortune fwell;Cut off from fervice due to kindred blood,To private welfare and to public good,Pitied by all, but thee, he fentenc'd lies;Imprifon'd languiſhes, imprifon'd dies.9095Boaft fwarming veffels, whoſe plebeian ſtateOwes not to merchants but mechanics freight.Boaft nought but pedlar-fleets-in war's alarms,Unknown to glory, as unknown to arms.100BoaftLONDON AND BRISTOL, &c. 195Boaft thy bafe Tolfey, and thy turn - fpit dogs,Thy Halliers horſes and thy human hogs;Upftarts and muſhrooms, proud, relentleſs hearts;Thou blank of fciences! thou dearth of arts!Such foes as learning once was doom'd to fee!Huns, Goths, and Vandals, were but types of thee.Proceed, great Briſtol , in all - righteous ways,And let one Juftice heighten yet thy praiſe;Still fpare the catamite, and ſwinge the whor*,And be, whate'er Gomorrha was before.105110A place where the merchants ufed to meet to tranfact their affairs before the Exchange was erected .See Gentleman's Magazine, Vol . XIII. p. 496.Halliers are the perfons who drive or own thefledges, which are here ufed inſtead of carts.CON-

[ 197 ]CONTENTSOFSAVAGE'S POEM S.ᎠᎬEdication to the WandererThe WANDERERPreface to the BaftardThe BASTARDOn Lady TyrconnelTo Sir R. WalpoleVolunteer LaureatsOf Public SpiritTo Mr. John DyerVerfes to Aaron HillPrologue to Shakeſpeare's Henry the SixthThe AnimalculeTo Mrs. HaywoodPage3782848892100114115127130131332135Apology198 CONTENTS OFPageApology to Brillante 137Epifle to Mrs. Oldfield 138On Mr. Hill's Gideon 140To Lady Rochford 142To Miranda, Confort of Aaron Hill 144Verſes to a young Lady 145The Gentleman 146Character of Mr. Forfter 147The Poet's Dependance 149Epistle to Damon and Delia 152To Mifs M. H. with Mr. Pope's Works 154On a Lady's Recovery 155The Friend 157Epistle to Mr. Dyer 161FulviaOn the Vice- Principal of St. Mary's Hall, Oxford, prefented to a LivingEpitaph on a young Lady}163164Genius of Liberty -Lines of Buchanan paraphrafed166167170TheSAVAGE'S POEM S. 199PageThe Employment of BeautyTo Mrs. Jones171174On Falle HiftoriansA CharacterEpitaph on Mrs. JonesValentine's DayTo John Powell, Esq.175180182183188London and Bristol Delineated 191END OF SAVAGE'S POEMS.

CJ