When nightingales, when sweetest bards Confine their charming song To summer's animating heats, Yet write I must; a lady' sues; Nor scorn his feeble strain; To you a stranger, but, through fate, The ghost of grief deceas'd ascends, By those he sees in you; Too well he knows the twisting strings When rent asunder, how they bleed, Those tears you pour, his eyes have shed; Thus Nature, loud as virtue, bids His heart at yours to melt. But what can heart, or head, suggest? What sad experience say? Through truths austere, to peace we work Our rugged, gloomy way: What are we? Whence? For what? and whither? Who know not, needs must mourn; But thought, bright daughter of the skies! Thought is our armour, 't is the mind's Impenetrable shield, When, sent by fate, we meet our foes, In sore affliction's field; It plucks the frightful mask from ills, Affection frail! train'd up by sense, Whence throngs, in ecstasy, look down All withers here; who most possess Stung by full proof, that, bad at best, Life's idle all is vain: Vain, in its course, life's murmuring stream; Did not its course offend, But murmur cease; life, then, would seem Still vainer, from its end. Mrs, M How wretched! who, through cruel fate, Have nothing to lament! With the poor alms this world affords Had not the Greek his world mistook, To be content with but one world, Of Earth's revenue would you state We hope; and hope; and hope; then cast Since vain all here, all future, vast, Embrace the lot assign'd; Despair. Heaven wounds to heal; its frowns are friends; Its stroke severe, most kind. But in laps'd Nature rooted deep, Blind errour domineers; And on fools' errands, in the dark, From virtue's rugged path to right To flowery fields of wrong, and there Yet whilst it chides, it speaks of peace, If folly is withstood; And says, time pays an easy price, In Earth's dark cot, and in an hour, What an economist is man For which as he was born, Say not, your loss in triumph leads Joys future amply reimburse But not deferr'd your joy so long, Befriends our present state: What are the tears, which trickle down Like liquid pearl? Like pearls of price, They purchase lasting peace. Grief softens hearts, and curbs the will, Impetuous passion tames, And keeps insatiate, keen desire From lanching in extremes. Through time's dark womb, our judgment right, If our dim eye was thrown, Clear should we see, the will divine Has but forestall'd our own; At variance with our future wish, Self-sever'd we complain; If so, the wounded, not the wound, Must answer for the pain: The day shall come, and swift of wing, This course it has pursued- Our hearts are fasten'd to this world 'T will sound severe-Yet rest assur'd An hour shall come (you question this) To Resignation swift he flew, In her a friend he found, A friend, which bless'd him with a smile On Earth naught precious is obtain'd By travel, and to travel born, To real joy we work our way, Encountering many a shock, Ere found what truly charms; as found In some disaster, some severe That mother blessing (not so call'd,) No martyr e'er defy'd the flames, You see, then, pangs are parent pangs, The peopled Earth look all around, It is a man undone. This moment, am I deeply stung My bold pretence is tried; When vain man boasts, Heaven puts to proof The vauntings of his pride; Now need I, madam! your support.- The pangs of which I spoke, I feel: Deep anguish comes by Heaven's decree, And when continued past its point, And shall I, criminally mean, Madam! I grant your loss is great; Let that be weigh'd; when weigh'd aright, When Heaven would kindly set us free, And Earth's enchantment end; It takes the most effectual means, But such a friend! and sigh no more? Perhaps your settled grief to sooth, I should not vainly strive, But with soft balm your pain assuage, Whose frequent aid brought kind relief, To touch our passions' secret springs But not to me by him bequeath'd Know, love sometimes, mistaken love! Nor lands, nor seas, nor suns, nor stars, They correspond from distant worlds, a Whilst the author was writing this, he received the news of Mr. Samuel Richardson's death, who was then printing the former part of the poem. Are you not, then, unkindly kind? is not your love severe ? O stop that crystal source of woe; Nor wound him with a tear. As those above from human bliss Receive increase of joy; May not a stroke from human woe, In part, their peace destroy ? He lives in those he left ;-to what? Your, now, paternal care. Clear from its cloud your brighten'd eye, In features, not of form alone, Fan, then, his martial fire: As nothing great is born in haste, Like that brave man you mourn, Than ever was unfurl'd In fields of blood; a banner bright! It, like a streaming meteor, casts Sheds day, sheds more, eternal day Can mount our glory higher, Arm'd with undaunted thonght; Unactive, and can smile The billows stain'd by slaughter'd foes From shouting nations, cause Such sweet delight, as from your heart The dear deceas'd so fam'd in arms, With what delight he'll view That odd distemper, an absurd Reluctance to be pleas'd: Some seem in love with sorrow's charms, This temper let me justly brand, Sorrow! of horrid parentage! Against Heaven's endless mercies pour'd From black and noxious vapours bred Than anguish of the mind; Who bids us lay our burthen down To blessing a command. For joy what cause! how every sense The year around, with presents rich, And terminate, wrapp'd up in sense, From that, their final point of view, Broke loose from time's tenacious ties, They let unmark'd, and unemploy'd, Their dread account proceeds, Though man sits still, and takes his ease; God is at work on man; No means, no moment unemploy'd, To bless him, if he can. But man consents not, boldly bent Man, a mere bungler in the trade, Repents his crime too late; Hence loud laments: let me thy cause, Indulgent Father! plead; Of all the wretches we deplore, Not one by thee was made. What is thy whole creation fair? Of love divine the child; Love brought it forth; and, from its birth, Now, and through periods distant far, Man holds in constant service bound Their master, man, to please : Through secret channels run; Finish for man their destin'd course, As 'twas for man begun. One point (observ'd, perhaps, by few) What's known to man of things unseen, So much, nor more, than what to man's What's revelation then? a list, An inventory just Of that poor insect's goods, so late What various motives to rejoice! Has this no weight? our joy is felt Would we in Heaven new Heaven create, And double its delight? A smiling world, when Heaven looks down, How pleasing in its sight! Angels stoop forward from their thrones To hear its joyful lays; As incense sweet enjoy, and join, Have we no cause to fear the stroke If we resign, our patience makes His rod an armless wand; YOL. XIII. Consummate love! the list how large Of blessings from thy hand! Joy is our duty, glory, health; 'Tis joy makes gods, and men exalts, Relief, for man to that must stoop, Content is joy, and joy in pain Of joy the more we have in hand, Is it not hard to weep in joy? What then to smile in pains?" Victorious joy! which breaks the clouds, And struggles through a storm; Proclaims the mind as great, as good; And bids it doubly charm: If doubly charming in our sex, A sex, by nature, bold; What then in yours? 't is diamond there, And should not this complaint repress? 1 labour to supply. Since spirits greatly damp'd distort Look through the medium of a friend, To set your notions right: As tears the sight, grief dims the soul; True friend hip, like a rising sun, A friend's an optic to the mind Reason is somewhat rough in man; When she, to grace her manly strength, A friend 3 yon bave, and I the same, Will bring to life those healing thoughts 3 Mrs. Montague, Kk That friend, the spirit of my theme Will leave to me the dreg, in thoughts Let those lament, to whom full bowls Imbitters death, and hazards Heaven: Woe to the soul at perfect ease! 'Tis brewing perfect pains; Have you 4 ne'er pity'd joy's gay scenes, And quite mistakes her mark: But sorrow well subdued; And in proud fortune's frown defy'd A double friend may find, A wing to Heaven, and, while on Earth, The pillow of mankind : On pillows void of down, for rest Our restless hopes we place; When hopes of Heaven lie warm at heart, The peace, which resignation yields, 'T is disbeliev'd by murmuring minds, The loss, or gain, of that alone That fate controls, and can invert O! the dark days, the year around, Of an impatient mind! Through clouds, and storms, a summer breaks, To shine on the resign'd: While man by that of every grace, Foul vice her pandæmonium builds By resignation we defeat The worst that can annoy; A theme themselves! A theme, how rare! To triumph over captive heads, Are set in bright array: With his own arms proud man's o'crcome, Learning and genius, wiser grown, To female bosoms fly. 4 Mrs. Montague. This revolution, fix'd by fate, So burst, full ripe, distended fruits, Pallas, ('t is said) when Jove grew dull, And sprightly leap'd into the throne Her helmet took; that is, shot rays And lance,-or, genius most acute, And gorgon shield,-or, power to fright The fruit of knowledge, golden fruit! To Britain's daughters free: In Eve (we know) of fruit so fair And they, like her, have caus'd a fall, And since of genius in our sex, O Addison! with thee The sun is set; how I rejoice This sister lamp to see! It sheds, like Cynthia, silver beams His lessen'd light, and languid powers, PART II. Bur what in either sex, beyond All parts, our glory crowns? "In ruffling seasons to be calm, And smile, when fortune frowns." Heaven's choice is safer than our own; Of ages past inquire, What the most formidable fate? "To have our own desire." If, in your wrath, the worst of foos Expose him to the thunder's stroke, What numbers, rushing down the steep Have perish'd in their ardent wish! 5 Mrs. Montague. Mrs. Carter. |