« הקודםהמשך »
And groves, unvisited by bard or sage.
Parent of Happiness, celestial-born; Amid the towery ruins, huge, supreme,
When the first man became a living soul, Th' enormous amphitheatre behold,
His sacred genius thou ;-be Britain's care ; Mountainous pile! o'er whose capacious womb With her, secure, prolong thy lov'd retreat; Pours :he broad firmament its varied light; Thence bless mankind ; while yet among her sons While from the central floor the seats ascend E'en yet there are, to shield thine equal laws, Round above round, slow-widening to the verge Whose bosoms kindle at the sacred names A circuit vast and high; nor less had held Or Cecil, Raleigh, Walsingham, and Drake. Imperial Rome, and her attendant realms, May others more delight in tuneful airs; When drunk with rule she will’d the fierce delight, In masque and dance excel; to sculptur'd stone And op'd the gloomy caverns, whence out-rush'd Give with superior skill the living look ; Before th' innumerable shouting crowd
More pompous piles erect, or pencil soft The fiery, madded, tyrants of the wilds,
With warmer touch the visionary board : Lions and tigers, wolves and elephants,
But thou, thy nobler Britons teach to rule;
And various blessings of ingenious trade.
Ever defend thee with undaunted heari!
Inestimable good! who giv'st us Truth, Behold your steepy cliff; the modern pile
Whose hand upleads to light, divinest Truth, Perchance may now delight, while that,* rever'd Array'd in every charm : whose hand benign In ancient days, the page alone declares,
Teaches unwearied Toil to clothe the fields,
And on his various fruits inscribes the name
Whose numerous towns and isles, and peopled seas, As cedars proud on Canaan's verdant heights Rejoic'd around her lyre ; th' heroic note Darkening their idols, when Astarte lur'd
(Smit with sublime delight) Ausonia caught, Too-prosperous Israel from his living strength. And plann'd imperial Rome. Thy hand benign And next regard yon venerable dome,
Rear'd up her towery battlements in strength; Which virtuous Latium, with erroneous aim, Bent her wide bridges o'er the swelling stream Rais'd to her various deities, and nam'd
Of Tuscan Tiber; thine those solemn domes Pantheon ; plain and round; of this our world Devoted to the voice of humbler prayer! Majestic emblem ; with peculiar grace
And thine those pilest undeck’d, capacious, vast, Before its ample orb, projected stands
In days of dearth where tender Charity The many-pillar'd portal : noblest work
Dispens'd her timely succors to the poor. Of human skill: here, curious architect,
Thine too those musically-falling founts, If thou essay'st, ambitious, to surpass
To slake the clammy lip; adown they fall,
Musical ever; while from yon blue hills,
The spacious desert, brightening in the Sun,
Among the figur'd rocks, in murmuring falls, (Reclining studious on Asopus' banks
Musical ever. These thy beauteous works : Beneath an urn of some lamented nymph)
And what beside felicity could tell Haply compos'd ; the urn with foliage curl'd Of human benefit: more late the rest; Thinly conceal'd, the chapiter inform’d.
At various times their turrets chanc'd to rise, See the tall obelisks from Memphis old, When impious Tyranny vouchsaf'd to smile. One stone enormous each, or Thebes convey'd ; Behold by Tiber's food, where modern Romes Like Albion's spires they rush into the skies. Couches beneath the ruins: there of old And there the temple,t where the summon'd state With arms and trophies gleam'd the field of Mars In deep of night conven'd: e'en yet methinks There to their daily sports the noble youth The vehement orator in rent attire
Rush'd emulous; to fling the pointed lance; Persuasion pours, Ambition sinks her crest; To vault the steed; or with the kindling wheel And lo the villain, like a troubled sea,
In dusty whirlwinds sweep the trembling goal; That tosses up her mire! Ever disguis'd,
Or, wrestling, cope with adverse swelling breasts, Shall Treason walk? Shall proud Oppression yoke Strong grappling arms, close heads, and distant feet; The neck of Virtue? Lo the wretch, abash'd, Or clash the listed gauntlets : there they form'd Self-betray'd Catiline! O Liberty,
Their ardent viriues: in the bossy piles,
The Capitol. † The Temple of Concord, where the senate met on Catiline's conspiracy.
1 The public granaries.
$ Modern Rome stands chiefly on the old Campus Martius.
The proud triumphal arches; all their wars, Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits, lie,
When tribulation clothes the child of man, They stretch their pavements. Lo, the fane of When age descends with sorrow to the grave, Peace, *
"Tis sweetly-soothing sympathy to pain, Built by that prince, who to the trust of power A gently-wakening call to health and ease. Was honest, the delight of human-kind.
How musical! when all-devouring Time, Three nodding aisles remain; the rest a heap Here sitting on his throne of ruins hoar, of sand and weeds; her shrines, her radiant roofs, While winds and tempests sweep his various lyre And columns proud, that from her spacious floor, How sweet thy diapason, Melancholy! As from a shining sea, majestic rose
Cool evening comes; the setting Sun displays A hundred foot alost, like stately beech
His visible great round between yon towers, Around the brim of Dion's glassy lake,
As through two shady cliffs; away, my Muse, Charming the mimic painter : on the walls Though yet the prospect pleases, ever new Hung Salem's sacred spoils; the golden board, In vast variety, and yet delight And golden trumpets, now conceal'd, entomb'd The many-figur'd sculptures of the path By the sunk roof.-O'er which in distant view Half beauteous, half effac'd ; the traveller Th' Etruscan mountains swell, with ruins crown'd Such antique marbles to his native land of ancient towns; and blue Soracte spires, Oft hence conveys; and every realm and state Wrapping his sides in tempests. Eastward hence, With Rome's august remains, heroes and gods, Nigh where the Cestian pyramid † divides Deck their long galleries and winding groves; The mouldering wall, beyond yon fabric huge, Yet miss we not th' innumerable thefts, Whose dust the solemn antiquarian turns,
Yet still profuse of graces teems the waste. And thence, in broken sculptures cast abroad, Suffice it now th' Esquilian mount to reach Like Sibyl's leaves, collects the builder's name With weary wing, and seek the sacred rests Rejoic'd, and the green medals frequent found Of Maro's humble tenement; a low Doom Caracalla to perpetual fame :
Plain wall remains; a little sun-gilt heap, The stately pines, that spread their branches wide Grotesque and wild ; the gourd and olive brown In the dun ruins of its ample halls,
Weave the light roof: the gourd and olive fan Appear but tufts; as may whate'er is high Their amorous foliage, mingling with the vine, Sink in comparison, minute and vile.
Who drops her purple clusters through the green These, and unnumber'd, yet their brows uplift, Here let me lie, with pleasing fancy sooth'd : Rent of their graces; as Britannia's oaks
Here flow'd his fountain; here his laurels grew; On Merlin's mount, or Snowdon's rugged sides, Here oft the meek good man, the lofty bard Stand in the clouds, iheir branches scatter'd round, Fram'd the celestial song, or social walk'd After the tempest; Mausoleums, Cirques,
With Horace and the ruler of the world : Naumachios, Forums; Trajan's column tall, Happy Augustus! who, so well inspir'd, From whose low base the sculptures wind aloft, Couldst throw thy pomps and royalties aside, And lead through various toils, up the rough steep, Attentive to the wise, the great of soul, Its hero to the skies: and his dark towery And dignify thy mind. Thrice.glorious days, Whose execrable hand the city fir'd,
Auspicious to the Muses ! then reverd, And while the dreadful conflagration blaz'd, Then hallow'd was the fount, or secret shade, Play'd to the flames; and Phæbus' letter'd dome ;ll Or open mountain, or whatever scene And the rough relics of Carinæ's street,
The poet chose, to tune th' ennobling rhyme Where now the shepherd to his nibbling sheep Melodious; e'en the rugged sons of war, Sits piping with his oaten reed; as erst
E'en the rude hinds rever'd the poet's name : There pip'd the shepherd to his nibbling sheep, But now-another age, alas! is oursWhen th' humble roof Anchises’ son explor'd
Yet will the Muse a little longer soar, Of good Evander, wealth-despising king,
Unless the clouds of care weigh down her wing Amid the thickets : so revolves the scene;
Since Nature's stores are shut with cruel hand, So Time ordains, who rolls the things of pride And each aggrieves his brother; since in vain From dust again to dust. Behold that heap The thirsty pilgrim at the fountain asks Of mouldering urns (their ashes blown away, Th'o'erflowing wave-Enough-the plaint disdain Dust of the mighty) the same story tell ;
See'st thou yon fane 3* e'en now incessant time And at its base, from whence the serpent glides Sweeps her low mouldering marbles to the dust; Down the green desert street, yon hoary monk And Phoebus' temple, nodding with its woods, Laments the same, the vision as he views, Threatens huge ruin o'er the small rotund. The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
'Twas there beneath a fig-iree's umbrage broad,
Th' astonish'd swains with reverend awe beheld Begun by Vespasian, and finished by Titus. Thee, 0 Quirinus, and thy brother-twin, † The tomb of Cestius, partly within and partly with. Pressing the teat within a monster's grasp out the walls. 1 The baths of Caracalla, a vast ruin.
* The temple of Romulus and Remus, under Moup! $ Nero's. | The Palatin library.
Sportive; while oft the gaunt and rugged wolf Withers each nerve, and opens every pore Turn'd her stretch'd neck and form'd your tender To painful feeling: flowery bowers they seek limbs ;
(As ether prompts, as the sick sense approves) So taught of Jove e'en the fell savage fed
Or cool Nymphean grots; or tepid baths Your sacred infancies, your virtues, toils,
(Taught by the soft Ionians); they, along The conquests, glories, of th' Ausonian state, The lawny vale, of every beauteous stone, Wrapp'd in their secret seeds. Each kindred soul, Pile in the roseate air with fond expense : Robust and stout, ye grapple to your hearts, Through silver channels glide the vagrant waves, And little Rome appears. Her cots arise,
And fall on silver beds crystalline down, Green twigs of osier weave the slender walls, Melodious murmuring; while Luxury Green rushes spread the roofs; and here and there Over their naked limbs with wanton hand Opens beneath the rock the gloomy cave.
Sheds roses, odors, sheds unheeded bane. Elate with joy Etruscan Tiber views
Swift is the flight of wealth ; unnumber'd wants, Her spreading scenes enamelling his waves, Brood of voluptuousness, cry out aloud Her huts and hollow dells, and flocks and herds, Necessity, and seek the splendid bribe. And gathering swains; and rolls his yellow car The citron board, the bowl emboss'd with gems, To Neptune's court with more majestic train. And tender foliage wildly wreath'd around
Her speedy growth alarm'd the states around, Of seeming ivy, by that artful hand, Jealous; yet soon, by wondrous virtue won, Corinthian Thericles; whate'er is known They sink into her bosom. From the plow Of rarest acquisition ; Tyrian garbs, Rose her dictators; fought, o'ercame, return'd Neptunian Albion's high testaceous food, Yes, to the plow return'd, and haild their peers ; And flavor'd Chian wines with incense fum'd For then no private pomp, no household state, To slake patrician thirst; for these, their rights The public only swellid the generous breast. In the vile streets they prostitute to sale, Who has not heard the Fabian heroes sung ? Their ancient rights, their dignities, their laws, Dentatus' scars, or Mutius' naming hand ? Their native glorious freedom. Is there none, How Manlius sav'd the Capitol ? the choice Is there no villain, that will bind the neck Or steady Regulus ? As yet they stood,
Stretch'd to the yoke? they come; the market throngs Simple of life; as yet seducing wealth
But who has most by fraud or force amass d ? Was unexplor'd, and shame of poverty
Who most can charm corruption with his doles ? Yet unimagin’d.-Shine not all the fields
He be the monarch of the state; and lo! With various fruitage ? murmur not the brooks Didius,* vile usurer, through the crowd he mounts, Along the flowery valleys ? They, content,
Beneath his feet the Roman eagle cowers, Feasted at Nature's hand, indelicate,
And the red arrows fill his grasp uncouth. Blithe, in their easy taste; and only sought O Britons, O my countrymen, beware ; To know their duties; that their only strife, Gird, gird your hearts; the Romans once were free, Their generous strife, and greatly to perform. Were brave, were virtuous.-Tyranny, howe'er, They through all shapes of peril and of pain, Deign'd to walk forth a while in pageant state, Intent on honor, dar'd in thickest death
And with licentious pleasures fed the rout, To snatch the glorious deed. Nor Trebia quell’d, The thoughtless many: to the wanton sound Nor Thrasymene, nor Canna's bloody field, Of fifes and drums they dancd, or in the shade Their dauntless courage; storming Hannibal Sung Cæsar, great and terrible in war, In vain the thunder of the battle rollid,
Immortal Cæsar! Lo, a god, a god, The thunder of the battle they return'd
He cleaves the yielding skies! Cæsar meanwhile Back on his Punic shores ; till Carthage fell, Gathers the ocean pebbles; or the gnat And danger fled afar. The city gleam'd Enrag'd pursues; or at his lonely meal With precious spoils : alas, prosperity!
Starves a wide province ; tastes, dislikes, and flings Ah, baneful state! yet ebb'd not all their strength To dogs and sycophants. A god, a god! In soft luxurious pleasures; proud desire
The flowery shades and shrines obscene return. of boundless sway, and feverish thirst of gold, But see along the north the tempests swell Rous'd them again to battle. Beauteous Greece, O'er the rough Alps, and darken all their snows! Torn from her joys, in vain with languid arm Sudden the Goth and Vandal, dreaded names, Half-rais'd her rusty shield ; nor could avail Rush as the breach of waters, whelming all The sword of Dacia, nor the Parthian dart; Their domes, their villas; down the sestive piles, Nor yet the ear of that fam'd British chief, Down fall their Parian porches, gilded baths, Which seven brave years, beneath the doubtful wing And roll before the storm in clouds of dust. Of Victory, dreadful rollid its griding wheels Vain end of human strength, of human skill, Over the bloody war: the Roman arms
Conquest, and triumph, and domain, and pomp, Triumph’d, till Fame was silent to their foes. And ease, and luxury! O Luxury,
And now the world unrivald they enjoy'd Bane of elated life, of affluent states,
What dreary change, what ruin is not thine!
How dost thou lure the fortunate and great! Dissolv'd in ease and soft delights they lie, Dreadful attraction! while behind thee gapes Till every sun annoys, and every wind
Th' unfathomable gulf where Asher lies las chilling force, and every rain offends : O’erwhelm'd, forgotten ; and high-boasting Cham; For now the frame no more is girt with strength And Elam's haughty pomp; and beauteous Greece; Masculine, nor in lustiness of heart
And the great queen of Earth, imperial Rome. Laughs at the winter storm, and summer-beam, Superior to their rage : enfeebling vice
* Didius Julianus, who bought the empire.
William SHENSTONE, a popular and agreeable the life which he invariably purrued, and which poet, was born at Hales-Owen, Shropshire, in 1714. consisted in improving the picturesque beauties of His father was an uneducated gentleman farmer, the Leasowes, exercising his pen in casual effusions who cultivated an estate of his own, called the Lea- of verse and prose, and cultivating such society as
William, after passing through other in- lay within his reach. The fame of the Leasowes struction, was removed to that of a clergyman at was widely spread by an elaborate description of Solihull, from whom he acquired a fund of classical Dodsley's, which drew multitudes of visitors to the literature, together with a taste for the best English place; and the house being originally only a farm, writers. In 1732 he was entered of Pembroke Col. became inadequate to his grounds, and required enlege, Oxford, where he formed one of a set of young largement. Hence he lay continually under the men who met in the evenings at one another's cham- pressure of narrow circumstances, which preyed bers, and read English works in polite literature. upon his spirits, and rendered him by no means a He also began to exercise his poetical talent upon happy inhabitant of the little Eden he had created. some light topics; but coming to the possession of Gray, from the perusal of his letters, deduces the his paternal property, with some augmentation, he following, perhaps too satirical, account. “ Poor indulged himself in rural retirement, and forgetting man! he was always wishing for money, for fame, his calls to college residence, he took up his abode and other distinctions; and his whole philosophy at a house of his own, and commenced gentleman. consisted in living against his will in retirement, In 1737 he printed anonymously a small volume of and in a place which his taste had adorned, but juvenile poems, which was little noticed. His first which he only enjoyed when people of note came to visit to London, in 1740, introduced him to the ac- see and commend it." quaintance of Dodsley, who printed his “ Judgment Shenstone died of a fever in February, 1763, in of Hercules,” dedicated to his Hagley neighbor, Mr. his fiftieth year, and was interred in the church(afterwards Lord) Lyttleton. It was followed by a yard of Hales-Owen. Monuments to his memory work written before it, “ The School-mistress," a were erected by several persons who loved the man, piece in Spenser's style and stanza, the heroine of and esteemed his poetry. Of the latter, the general which was a village dame, supposed to have given opinion is now nearly uniform. It is regarded as him his first instruction. The vein of benevolence commonly correct, elegant, melodious, and tender and good sense, and the touches of the pathetic, by in sentiment, and often pleasing and natural in dewhich this performance is characterized, render it scription, but verging to the languid and feeble. extremely pleasing, and perhaps place it at the head His prose writings, published in a separate volume, of his compositions.
display good sense and cultivated taste, and someAfter amusing himself with a few rambles to times contain new and acute observations on man. places of public resort, Shenstone now sat down to kind.
IN IMITATION OF SPENSER.
Lend me thy clarion, goddess ! let me try
To sound the praise of Merit, ere it dies,
Such as I oft have chaunced to espy,
Lost in the dreary shades of dull Obscurity.
In every village mark'd with little spire,
Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to Fame
There dwells in lowly shed, and mean attire, What particulars in Spenser were imagined most
A matron old, whom we School-mistress name;
Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame; proper for the author's imitation on this occasion, are his language, his simplicity, his manner of
They grieven sore, in piteous durance pent, description, and a peculiar tenderness of senti
Aw'd by the power of this relentless dame;
And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, ment remarkable throughout his works.
For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are sorely shent. Al me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, To think how modest Worth neglected lies, And all in sight doth rise a birchen tree, While partial Fame doth with her blast adorn Which Learning near her little dome did stowe, Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp disguise; Whilom a iwig of small regard to see, Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise : Though now so wide its waving branches flow;
And work the simple vassal's mickle woe ; One ancient hen she took delight to feed,
Into her school, begirt with chickens, came! And as they look'd they found their horror grew, Such favor did her past deportment claim : And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view. And, if Neglect had lavish'd on the ground
Fragment of bread, she would collect the same; So have I seen (who has not, may conceive) For well she knew, and quaintly could expound, A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd; What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave,
found. Of sport, of song, of pleasure, of repast; They start, they stare, they wheel, they look Herbs too she knew, and well of each could speak aghast ;
That in her garden sipp'd the silvery dew; Sad servitude! such comfortless annoy
Where no vain flower disclos'd a gaudy streak; May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste!
But herbs for use, and physic, not a few, Ne superstition clog his dance of joy,
Of grey renown, within those borders grew: No vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy. The tufted basil, pun-provoking thyme,
Fresh baum, and marigold of cheerful hue; Near to this dome is found a patch so green, The lowly gill, that never dares to climb; On which the tribe their gambols do display; And more I fain would sing, disdaining here to rhyme And at the door imprisoning-board is seen, Lest weakly wights of smaller size should stray; Yet euphrasy may not be left unsung, Eager, perdie, to bask in sunny day!
That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around; The noises intermix'd, which thence resound, And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue; Do Learning's little tenement betray;
And plantain ribb'd, that heals the reaper's wound; Where sits the dame, disguis'd in look profound, And marjoram sweet, in shepherd's posie found; And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom around.
Shall be, erewhile, in arid bundles bound,
To lurk amidst the labors of her loom, Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, And crown her kerchiefs clean, with mickle rare Emblem right meet of decency does yield :
perfume. Her apron dy'd in grain, as blue, I trow, As is the hare-bell that adorns the field :
And here trim rosemarine, that whilom crown'd And in her hand, for sceptre, she does wield The daintiest garden of the proudest peer; T'way birchen sprays; with anxious fear entwin'd, Ere, driven from its envied site, it found With dark distrust, and sad repentance fillid: A sacred shelter for its branches here;
And stedfast hate, and sharp afsliction join'd, Where edg’d with gold its glittering skirts appear, And fury uncontrol'd, and chastisement unkind. Oh wassal days! O customs meet and well!
Ere this was banish'd from his lofty sphere : Few but have kenn'd, in semblance meet por. Simplicity then sought this humble cell, tray'd,
Nor ever would she more with thane and lordling The childish faces of old Eol's train;
dwell. Libs, Notus, Auster: these in frowns array'd, How then would fare or Earth, or Sky, or Main, Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve, Were the stern god to give his slaves the rein ? Hymned such psalms as Sternhold forth did mete, And were not she rebellious breasts to quell, If winter 't were, she to her hearth did cleare, And were not she her statutes to maintain,
But in her garden found a summer-seat; The cot no more, I ween, were deem'd the cell, Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat Where comely peace of mind, and decent order dwell. How Israel's sons, beneath a foreign king,
While taunting foemen did a song entreat, A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown; All, for the nonce, untuning every string, A russet kirtle fenc'd the nipping air;
Uphung their useless lyres—small heart had they 'Twas simple russet, but it was her own;
to sing. 'Twas her own country bred the flock so fair! 'Twas her own labor did the fleece prepare; For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore, And, sooth to say, her pupils, rang'd around, And pass'd much time in truly virtuous deed ; Through pious awe, did term it passing rare; And in those elfins' ears, would oft deplore For they in gaping wonderment abound,
The times, when Truth by Popish rage did bleed; And think, no doubt, she been the greatest wight on And tortious death was true Devotion's meed; ground.
And simple Faith in iron chains did mourn,
That nould on wooden image place her creed ; Albeit ne fattery did corrupt her truth,
And lawny saints in smouldering flames did burn: Ne pompous title did debauch her ear;
Ah! dearest Lord, forefend, thilk days should e'er Goody, good-woman, gossip, n'aunt, forsooth,
return. Or dame, the sole additions she did hear; Yet these she challeng’d, these she held right dear: In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish stem Ne would esteem him act as mought behove, By the sharp tooth of cankering eld defac'd, Who should not honor'd eld with these revere : In which, when he receives his diadem, For never title yet so mean could prove,
Our sovereign prince and liefest liege is plac'd, But there was eke a mind which did ihat title love. The matron sate; and some with rank she grac'd,