« הקודםהמשך »
| There may thy bays its shady honours spread, MR. JOHN HUGHES,
And o'er thy urn eternal odours shed;
Immortal as thy fame, and verse, still grow, ON HIS POEM ENTITLED, THE TRIUMPH OF PEACE.
Till those shall cease to live, and Thames to flow. INSPIR'D by what melodious Hughes has sung,
Nature, subdu'd, foretold the great decline, P'll tune a lyre that long has lain unstrung:
And every heart was plung'd in grief, but thine; Awak'd from drowsy sloth, and soothing rest,
Thy soul, serene, the conflict did maintain, Poetic transports fire my ravish'd breast !
And trac'd the phantom Death in years of pain; What pleasure must retiring Dryden find,
Not years of pain thy steady mind alarmid, To see that art his skilful Muse refin'd,
By judgment strengthen'd, and with virtue arm'd; So much improv'd by those he leaves behind! Still like thyself, when sinking life ebb'd low, So when a father sees a careful son
Nor rashly dar'd, nor meanly fear'd the blow; Enlarge those coffers, which were first his own, Loose to the world, of every grace possest, With joy to Heaven he lifts his aged eyes,
Greatly resign'd, thou sought'st the stranger, Rest : Blesses his prosperous heir, and calmly dies.
Firm as his fate, so thy own Phocyas dy'd,
While the barb'd arrow trembled in his side.
The practic part, too soon! bebeld in thee.
Who now shall strike the lyre with skill divine, So when of old some sportive amorous god
Who to harmonious sounds a harmonious numbers Vouchsaf'd awhile to leave his blest abode,
join! In whatsoever form the guest appear'd,
Who the rapacious tide of vice control, His heavenly lustre shone, and was rever'd.
And, while they charm the sense, reform the soul! Catherine Hall,
In whom the lovely sister arts unite
With virtue, solid sense, and boundless wit?
Such was the turn of thy exalted mind,
Great ruler of our passions! who with art
Subdu'd the fierce, and warm'd the frozen heart,
Bid glory in our breasts with temper beat,
And valour, separate from feverish heat,
Love, in its true, its genuine lustre rise,
And, in Eudocia, bid it charm our eyes, The Muses, wreath'd with baleful cypress, mourn; !
Virtue distrest, thy happy lines disclose. In every face a deep distress appears, .
With more of triumph than a conqueror knows: Fach eye o'ertlows with tributary tears:
Touch'd by thy hand, our stubborn tempers bend, Such was the scene, when, by the gods requir'd,
And Howing tears the well-wrought scene attend, Majestic Homer from the world retir'd:
That silent eloquence thy power approv'd; Such grief the Nine o'er Maro's tomb bestow'd;
The cause so great, 'twas generous to be mov'd.
What pleasure can the bursting heart possess, And tears like these for Addison late flow'd. Snatch'd from the Earth, above its trilling praise,
In the last parting, and severe distress? Thee, Hughes, to happier climes thy Fate conveys;
Can fame, wealth, honour, titles, joy bestow, Eas'd of its load, thy gentle spirit roves
And make the labouring breast with transport glow? Through realms refulgent, and celestial groves;
These gaudy trifles gild our morning bright, The toils of life, the pangs of death are o'er,
But O! how weak their influence on our night! And care, and pain, and sickness, are no more.
Then fame, wealth, honour, titles, vaihly bloom, O may the spot that holds thy blest remains
Nor dart one beam of comfort on the gloom; (The noblest spoil Earth's spacious breast contains)
But if the struggling soul a joy receives, Its tribute pay; may richest flowers around
'Tis in the just applause that conscious virtue gives: Spring lightly forth, and mark the sacred ground;
This blameless pride the dying Hughes possest,
| And sooth'd his unoffending soul to rest. Daughter of judge Cowper, afterwards married
Free from the bigot's fears, or stoic's pride, to col. Martin Madan, author of the Progress of
Calm as our Christian hero liv'd, he dy'd. Poetry, &c. and still living, an ornament to her
x and age. Another of her compositions is prefixed to the Poems of Mr. Pope. V.
> Opera of Calypso and Telemachuse
As on the utmost verge of life he stood,
| Early thy side the mortal shaft receivid, Ready to plunge, and seize th' immortal good, All, but the wounded hero, saw and griev'di. Collecting all his rays ditfus'd, in one,
No sense of smart, no anguish, could control, His last great work with heighten'd lustre shone; Or turn the generous purpose of his soul. There his just sentiments, transferr’d, we view'd! Witness, ye nobler arts, by Heaven design'd But, while our eyes the shining path pursu'd, To charm the senses, and improve the inind, And steep ascent his steady judgment gain', How through your mazes, with incessant toil, The shining path, alas! alone remain'd.
He urg'd his way, to reap tu’immortal spoil! So when the Sun to worlds unknown retires, So fabled Orpheus tun'd his potent song, How strong, how boldly shoot his parting fires ! Death's circling shades, and Stygian glooms among. Larger his setting orb our eyes confess,
Of thy great labours this, the last "and chief, Eager we gaze, and the full glory bless;
At once demands our wonder, and our grief:
Wondering we saw disclos'd the ample store, And leaves behind gay tracks of beamy light. Griev'd in that instant, to expect no more. 1720.
So in the evening of some doubtful day,
And his whole glories spreads at once to sight; Ir for ourselves the tears profusely flow,
Th’enliven'd world look up with gladsome cheer, Too justly we indulge the tender woe,
Bless the gay scene, nor heed the night so near; Since thou in Virtue's robes wast richly drest, Sudden, the lucent orb drops swiftly down, And of fine arts abundantly possest!
Through western skies, to shine in worlds unknown. But if we rather should congratulate
March 28, 1720.
WM. COWPER. A friend's enlargement and exalted state; Resign'd to Providence, what can we less Than cheerful hail thy long'd-for happiness, Who now, releas'd from every piercing pain, Dost in the realms of light triumphant reign! From thy long languishing, and painful strife, February, 1719-20.
W. DUNCOMBE 4. Of breath and labour drawn, and wasting life,
Accomplish'd spirit! thou at length art free,
Thy struggles are no more; the palm is won; .
Thy brows encircled with the victor's crown;
While lonely left, and desolate below,
Full grief I feel, and all a brother's woe!
Yet would I linger on a little space, O Lost too early! and too lately known !
Before I close my quick-expiring race, My love's intended marks receive in one;
Till I have gather'd up, with grateful pains, Where, new to ease, and recent from thy pains,
Thy works, thy dear unperishing remains; With ampler joy thou tread'st the blissful plains:
An undecaying monument to stand, · If there, regardful of the ways of men,
Rais'd to thy name by thy own skilful hand. Thou seest with pity what thou once hast been,
| Then let me wing from Earth my willing way, O gentle shade! accept this humble verse,
To meet thy soul in blaze of living day,
Rapt to the skies, like thee, with joyful flight,
| An inmate of the Heavens, adopted into light. In arms to glory, and in love to truth! Oh! if the Muse of future aught presage,
30 March, 1720.
JABEZ HUGHES. These seeds shall ripen in the coming age;
Ob. 17 Jan. 1731. Anno Æt. 46. Then youths, renown'd for many a field well-fought, I Shall own the glorious lessons thou hast taught; Honour's strict laws shall reign in every mind, And every Phocyas his Eudocia find. O! yet be this the lowest of thy fame,
IMMORTAL Bard! though from the world retird, To form the hero, and instruct the dame;
Still known to Fame, still honour'd, and admir'd! I see the Christian, friend, relation, son,
While fill'd with joy, in happier realms you stray, Burn for the glorious course that thou hast run. And dwell in mansions of eternal day; If aught we owe thy pencil, or thy lyre,
While you, conspicuous through the heavenly choir, Of manly strokes, or of superior fire,
With swelling rapture tune the chosen lyre; How must thy Muse be ever own'd divine,
Where echoing angels the glad notes prolong, And in the sacred list unrival'd shine!
Or with attentive silence crown your song;
Offers this humble tribute of her praise.
Lost in thy works, how oft I pass the day, How firmly did thy Soul her seat maintain ! | While the swift hours steal unperceiv'd away;
There, in sweet union, wit and virtue charm, 3 Siege of Damascus.
And noblest sentiments the bosom warm; 4 Of whom see Dr. Johnson's encomium in the Life of Hughes,
The Siege of Damascus.
The brave, the wise, the virtuous, and the fair, | Et circum cineres Parnassia numina lugent.
Through every polish'd piece correctness flows, Te patria exposcit, fæcundaque criminis ætas. Yet each bright page with sprightly fancy glows; Non tua te pietas, non candida vita, nec artes • Oh! happy elegance, where thus are join'd
Ingenua, duro juvenem eripuere sepulchro! A solid judgment, and a wit refin'd!
Sed tibi mors longos nequicquam inviderit annos, Here injur'd Phocyas and Eudocia claim
Dum maneant clare monumenta perennia famæ, A lasting pity, and a lasting fame:
Dircæusque volet superas suus ales in auras. The heroine's softer virtues charm the sight, Spernis trita sonans plectrum’, tenuisque camoena And fill our souls with ravishing delight.
Haud petis auxilium : terris te plena relictis Exalted love and dauntless courage meet,
Mens rapit impavidum, cælique per ardua ducit. To make thy hero's character complete,
Jam procul ex oculis gentes & regna recedunt; This tinish'd piece the noblest pens commend, Jam tellus perit, & punctum vix cernitur orbis. And e'en the critics are the poet's friend.
At vos, iminensi placidissima lumina mundi, Led on by thee, those flowery paths. I view, Sol, Luna, æterno meritas 0! pangite laudes For ever lovely, and for ever new,
Auctori Dominoque; suis concussa tremiscat Where all the Graces with joint force engage Sedibus, & magnum agnoscat Natura Parentem, To stem th' iinpetuous follies of the age:
Dum vates arcana, parum sententia.vulgi Virtue, there deck'd in ever-blooming charms, Ut stet sollicitus, sublimi carmine pandit! With such resistless rays of beauty warms,
Qualis verborun poinpa! ut ruit ore profundo That Vice, abash'd, confounded, skulks away, Fervidus, ingenii caleat cum Spiritus ingens ! As night retires at dawn of rosy day.
Nec minor incedis, tragico indignusve cothurno, Struck with his guilt, the hardy atheist dreads Dum tuus Arabicos Phocyas ruit acer in hostes, Approaching Fate, and trembles as he reads: Quis non æquales toto sub pectore flammas Vanquish'd by Reason, yet asham'd to fly,
Concipit, & simili laudis fervescit amore! He dares not own a God, nor yet deny:
O qualis inrut divina potentia! quali Convinc'd, though late, forgiveness he implores; Arte trahis faciles animos; seu pectora flecti Shrinks from the jaws of Hell, and Heaven adores. Dura jubes, & pulchra acuis virtutis honore; .
Hither the wild, the frolic, and the gay,' Sive intus placidos Eudocia concitet ignes; As thoughtless thro’ their wanton rounds they stray, Ah nimium, nimium infelix Endocia! quem non Compellid by Fame, repair with curious eye,
Sors tua sæva movet? madidi vectigal ocelli Ånd their own various forms with wonder spy. Quis neget?, infaustos quis non deploret amores? The censor so polite, so kindly true,
O semper damnata pati fata aspera virtus ! They see their faults, and sicken at the view. At tibi quis sensus, quæ mens, Eudocia, cum jam Hence triding Damon ceases to be vain;
Extrahit infixam Phocyas tua flamma sagittam, And Cloe scorts to give her lover pain:
Securus fati, vitamque ex vulnere fundit? Strephon is true, who ne'er was true before; Quis satis ingenium comis miretur Abudæ? And Celia bids him love, but not adore.
Quam piger ad poenas, miserumque benignus in Though Addison and Steele the honour claim, Exemplar vel Christianis imitabile, mores (hostem! Here to stand foremost on the list of fame;
Digni etiam meliore fide! O quam, nube remotâ Yet still the traces of thy hand we see,
Erroris, tanti eniteant pietatis honores! Some of the brightest thoughts are due to thee.
Sed quid ego plura hic laudare nitentia pergam? While then for those illustrious bards we mourn, Tota nitet, pulchro tota ordine fabrica surgit, The Muse shall visit thy distinguish'd urn; Et delectamur passim, passimque monemur. With copious tears bedew the sacred ground,
E. Coll. Mert.
L. DUNCOMBE. And plant the never-fading bay around.
Oxon. Here through the glooin, aspiring bards, explore
Amabilis juvenis, hujus carminis author, These awful relics, and be vain no more:
Obiit !6 Decem. 1730; anno ætatis 19. Learning, and Wi!, and Fame itself must die;
--Nox atra caput tristi circumvolat umbra. Virtue alone can, towering, reach the sky. This crown'd his life. Adinire not, Heaven in view,
PROLOGUE TO THE
MEMORY OF MR. HUGHES.
SPOKEN BY MR. MILWARD, ON THE REVIVAL OF THE
SIEGE OF DAMASCUS, AT THE THEATRE ROYAL IN
DRURY-LANE, 22 MARCH, 1734-5.
Here force and fancy, with united charms,
Mingle the sweets of love with war's alarms.
Our author shows, in eastern pomp array'd, Occidit heu nimium fato sublatus acerbo,
The conquering hero, and the constant maid. Occidit Aonidum decus ille dolorque sororum! None better knew such noble heights to soar, Quæ te, magne, tuis rapuit sors aspera, vates? Though Phæðra, and though Cato, charm'd before. Quo fugis, ah! nostras nunquam rediturus in oras! En! tibi ferali crinem cinxere cupresso,
? Hæc & proxima alludunt ad sublima illa au
| thoris nostri poemata, quibus tituli, Hyninus ad * Alluding to the Spectators written by Mr. Hughes. Creatorem Mundi, & Ecstasis,
While in the lustre of his glowing lines,
While he, like his own Phocyas, snatch'd from viera Th' Arabian Paradise so gaily shines,
To fairer realms with ripen'd glory few. With winy rivers, racy fruits, supply'd,
Humane, though witty; humble, though admir'd; And beauties sparkling in immortal pride,
Wept by the great, the virtuous sage expir'd! Gallants, you'll own, that a resistless fire
Still may the bard, beneath kind planets born, Did justly their enamour'd breasts inspire.
Whom every Grace and every Muse adorn, At first a numerous audience crown'd this play, Whose spreading fame has reach'd to foreign lands, And kind applauses mark'd its happy way, Receive some tribute too from British hands.
THE TRIUMPH OF PEACE.
But once such differing beauty met before,
When warrior Mars did Love's bright queen adore; OCCASIONED BY THE PEACE OF RYSWICK, Ev'n Love's bright queen might seem less winning 1697. And Mars submit to his heroic air.
Not Jove himself, imperial Jove, can show HEAR, Britain, hear a rough unpractis'd tongue, A nobler mien, or more undaunted brow, Though rough my voice, the Muse inspires the song! When his strong arm, thro' Heav'n's ethereal plains, The heaven-boro Muse; ev'n now she springs her Compels the kindled bolt, and awful rule maintains flight,
And now embark'd they seek the British Isles. And bears my raptur'd soul through untrac'd realms Pleas'd with the charge, propitious Ocean smiles. We mount aloft, and, in our airy way of light. Before, old Neptune smooths the liquid way; Retiring kingdoms far beneath survey.
Obsequious Tritons on the surface play; Amid the rest a spacious tract appears,
And sportful dolphins, with a nimble glance, Obscure in view, and on its visage wears
To the bright Sun their glittering scales advanco Black hovering mists, which, thickening by degrees, In oozy beds profound the billows sleep, Extend a low'ring storm o'er earth and seas.
No clarnorous winds awake the silent deep; But, lo! an eastern light, arising high,
| Rebuk'd, they whisper in a gentle breeze, Drives the tempestuous wreck along the sky ! And all around is universal peace. Then thus the Muse" Look down, my son! and sce, Proceed, iny Muse! The following pomp declare: The bright procession of a deity!"
Say who, and what, the bright attendants were ! She spoke; the storm dispers’d; vanish'd the night; First Ceres, in her chariot seated high, And well-known Europe stands disclos'd to sight. By harness'd dragons drawn along the sky;
Of various states, the various bounds appear; A cornucopia fill'd her weaker hand, There wide Hispania, fruitful Gallia here;
Charg'd with the various offspring of the land, Belgia's moist soil, conspicuous from afar,
Fruit, flowers, and corn; her right a sickle bore; And Flandria, long the field of a destructive war. A yellow wreath of twisted wheat she wore. Germania too, with cluster'd vines o'erspread; Next father Bacchus with his tigers grac'd And lovely Albion from her watery bed,
The show, and, squeezing clusters as he passid, Beauteous above the rest, rears her auspicious head. Quaft''d flowing goblets of rich-flavour'd wine. Beneath her chalky cliffs, sea-nymphs resort, In order, last succeed the tuneful Nine; And awful Neptune keeps his reedy court;
Apollo too was there; behind him hung His darling Thames, rich presents in his hand His useless quiver, and his bow unstrung; Of bounteous Ceres, traverses the land;
He touch'd his golden lyre, and thus he sung.
Ah, charming Isle! fairest of all the main! War, that fierce lion, long disdaining law,
Rang'd uncontrol'd, and kept the world in awe, For see a hero on the adverse strand!
While trembling kingdoms crouch'd beneath his paw. And, lo! a blooming virgin in his hand!
At last the reeling monster, drunk with gore, All hail, celestial pair!-a goddess she,
Falls at thy feet subdu'd, and quells his roar; Of heavenly birth confest, a more than mortal, he! Tamely to thec he bends his shaggy mane, Victorious laurels on his brows he wears;
And on his neck admits the long-rejected chain. Th' attending fair a branching olive bears; At thy protecting court, for this blest day, Slender her shape, in silver bands confin'd;
Attending nations their glad thanks shall pay: Her snowy garments loosely flow behind,
Not Belgia, and the rescued isle alone, Rich with embroider'd stars, and ruttle in the wind. But Europe shall her great deliverer own.