Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue, Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere, For me, in future, neither friend nor foe, Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice: To veil those feelings which perchance it ought, Then would I view each rival wight, Petty and Palmerston survey; Who canvass there with all their might, Lo! candidates and voters lie All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number; A race renowned for piety, Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber. Lord H, indeed, may not demur; Fellows are sage, reflecting men: They know preferment can occur But very seldom,-now and then. They know the Chancellor has got Some pretty livings in disposal: Each hopes that one may be his lot, And therefore smiles on his proposal. Now from the soporific scene I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later, There, in apartments small and damp, He surely well deserves to gain them, Who sacrifices hours of rest To scan precisely metres Attic; Who reads false quantities in Seale, From authors of historic use; The square of the hypothen use. That hurt none but the hapless student, Whose daring revels shock the sight, And for the sins of others pray: Forgetting that their pride of spirit, Their exultation in their trial, Detracts most largely from the merit Of all their boasted self-denial. I hate you, ye cold compositions of art! [prove, Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots re1 court the effusions that spring from the heart, Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love. When youthful parasites, who bend the knee Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical On one by birth predestined to be great; themes, Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move : Arcadia displays but a region of dreams: [love? What are visions like these to the first kiss of That books were only meant for drudging fools, Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth, strove, Some portion of paradise still is on earth, And Eden revives in the first kiss of love. When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past For years fleet away with the wings of the doveThe dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love. ON A CHANGE OF MASTERS AT A WHERE are those honours, Ida! once your own, TO THE DUKE OF DORSET. DORSET! whose early steps with mine have stray'd, Exploring every path of Ida's glade; Whom still affection taught me to defend, And made me less a tyrant than a friend, Though the harsh custom of our youthful band Bade thee obcy, and gave me to command; Thee, on whose head a few short years will shower The gift of riches and the pride of power; E'en now a name illustrious is thine own, Renown'd in rank, nor far beneath the throne. Yet, Dorset, let not this seduce thy soul To shun fair science, or evade control, Though passive tutors, fearful to dispraise The titled child, whose future breath may raise, View ducal errors with indulgent eyes, And wink at faults they tremble to chastise. None dare to raise the sterner voice of truth, Yes! I have mark'd thee many a passing day, Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue, Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere, Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice: To veil those feelings which perchance it ought, Then would I view each rival wight, Petty and Palmerston survey; Lo candidates and voters lie All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number; A race renowned for piety, Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber. Lord H-, indeed, may not demur; Fellows are sage, reflecting men: They know preferment can occur But very seldom,-now and then. They know the Chancellor has got Some pretty livings in disposal: Each hopes that one may be his lot, And therefore smiles on his proposal. Now from the soporific scene I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later, To view, unheeded and unseen, The studious sons of Alma Mater. There, in apartments small and damp, He surely well deserves to gain them, To scan precisely metres Attic; Who reads false quantities in Seale, From authors of historic use; The square of the hypothenuse. Still, harmless are these occupations, That hurt none but the hapless student, Compared with other recreations, Which bring together the imprudent; Whose daring revels shock the sight, When vice and infamy combine, When drunkenness and dice invite, As every sense is steep'd in wine. Not so the methodistic crew, Who plans of reformation lay: In humble attitude they sue, And for the sins of others pray: Forgetting that their pride of spirit, Their exultation in their trial, Detracts most largely from the merit Of all their boasted self-denial. "Tis morn :-from these I turn my sight. "Tis hush'd-what sounds are these I hear? The organ's soft celestial swell Rolls deeply on the list'ning ear. The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain; To such a set of croaking sinners. If David, when his toils were ended, Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To us his psalms had ne'er descended,In furious mood he would have tore 'em. The luckless Israelites, when taken By some inhuman tyrant's order, Oh! had they sung in notes like these, They might have set their hearts at ease, But if I scribble longer now, The deuce a soul will stay to read; My pen is blunt, my ink is low; "Tis almost time to stop, indeed. Again I behold where for hours I have ponder'd, To catch the last gleam of the sun's setting ray. I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o'erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded, I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone: Or, as Lear, I pour'd forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters of kingdom and reason deprived; Till, fired by loud plaudits and self-adulation, Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, But if, through the course of the years which await me, Some new scene of pleasure should open to view, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, "Oh! such were the days which my infancyknew." 1806. Therefore, farewell, old Granta's spires! 1806. ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROW ON THE HILL. Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.-VIRG. YE scenes of my childhood, whose loved recollection Embitters the present, compared with the past; Where science first dawn'd on the powers of reflection, [last; And friendships were form'd, too romantic to Where fancy yet joys to trace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne'er fading remembrance, Which rests in the bosom, though hope is denied! Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; [sorted, The school where, loud warn'd by the bell, we reTo pore o'er the precepts by pedagogues taught. TO M. OH! did those eyes, instead of fire, For thou art form'd so heavenly fair, That fatal glance forbids esteem. When Nature stamp'd thy beauteous birth, The skies might claim thee for their own: Within those once celestial eyes. These might the boldest sylph appal, In stars adorns the vault of heaven; But they would ne'er permit thee there, Thou wouldst so far outshine the seven. WOMAN! experience might have told me Oh memory! thou choicest blessing When join'd with hope, when still possessing; TO M. S. G. WHEN I dream that you love me, you'll surely for- Then, Morpheus! envelope my faculties fast, Should the dream of to-night but resemble the last, They tell us that slumber, the sister of death, To fate how I long to resign my frail breath, Ah! frown not, sweet lady, unbend your soft brow, If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now, Though in visions, sweet lady, perhaps you may smile, Oh! think not my penance deficient! When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile, To awake will be torture sufficient. TO MARY, ON RECEIVING HER PICTURE. THIS faint resemblance of thy charms, Though strong as mortal art could give, My constant heart of fear disarms, Revives my hopes, and bids me live. Which round thy snowy forehead wave, The cheeks which sprung from beauty's mould, The lips which made me beauty's slave. Here I can trace-ah, no! that eye, Whose azure floats in liquid fire, Must all the painter's art defy, And bid him from the task retire. Here I behold its beauteous hue; But where's the beam so sweetly straying, Which gave a lustre to its blue, Like Luna o'er the ocean playing? Sweet copy! far more dear to me, Lifeless, unfeeling as thou art, Than all the living forms could be, Save her who placed thee next my heart. She placed it, sad, with needless fear, Lest time might shake my wavering soul, Unconscious that her image there Held every sense in fast control. Through hours, through years, through time, 't will In life's last conflict 't will appear, TO LESBIA. LESBIA! since far from you I've ranged, Our souls with fond affection glow not; You say 't is I, not you, have changed, I'd tell you why, but yet I know not. Your polish'd brow no cares have crost; And, Lesbia! we are not much older Since, trembling, first my heart I lost, Or told my love, with hope grown bolder. Sixteen was then our utmost age, [cheer; Two years have lingering pass'd away, love! And now new thoughts our minds engage, At least I feel disposed to stray, love! 'Tis I that am alone to blame, I, that am guilty of love's treason; I do not, love! suspect your truth, One trace of dark deceit it leaves not. No, no, my flame was not pretended; And-though our dream at last is ended— My bosom still esteems you dearly. Have found monotony in loving. New beauties still are daily bright'ning, Your eye for conquest beams prepared, The forge of love's resistless lightning. |