"I. ON AKENSIDE. Quinquain. Lyric. 1. "O AKENSIDE divine! Not only to the strain, Round which Imagination's train Their brightest wreaths and happiest tones combine, Shall my enraptur'd ear incline; But my eye wander o'er thy lyric chain Perplext to sight profane, Form'd round the hallow'd few its sacred bands to twine. 2. Not even Pindar's lay Winds free harmonious way, Fraught with diviner tints, sublimer airs Nor beams with purer ray; ; Nor from the bowers of bliss more heavenly fragrance Far above sordid cares, [bears, C. L. Sept. 4, 1808. And meaner joys, the soul raising to purer day." "II. MY FLAGEOLET. "Lov'd Flageolet, whose toné Breathes to myself alone, Nor dare I trust thy voice to other ears, E'en half ashamed to own That thy imperfect moan, Wak'd by my touch unskill'd, thee to my heart endears! 2. Though not the force and fire The tender viol's finely varied sound, Light simple instrument-yet bound Within like slender space the breath did once inspire Of Goldsmith, of Rousseau, the happy groups around!" C. L. Sept. 4, 1808. "III. ON MUSIC. CLEMENTI! Power there is in charming sounds The heart, the soul, such notes symphonious find; Whom with her frensied train Despair surrounds. To Man the universal language speaks; And breathes of sentiment the angelic voice; Here every good affection feels her tone: Beasts soften'd hear; the tuneful birds rejoice : And, sweet PIANO, since thy touch is known, Not the mild blush of May so lovely breaks!" C. L. Sept. 9, 1808. "6 IV. TO SPAIN. On her present arduous struggle. "O generous Nation, to whose noble boast, To deeds of highest daring! May no leaven, (If Wisdom, Justice fail thee, thou art lost!) No treachery, no cruelty disgrace Thy dawn of Freedom, if a dawn it be; O think of thy Cervantes! think that now No palm invites thee of false chivalry; But one his high-soul'd breast would hail with ardent vow!" C. L. July 6, 1808. "V. SONNET. To the Sea. By the Sea Side, Sept. 29, 1808. « Βη δ' ακεων παρα θινα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλασσης. HOM. IL. I. 33. "Thou awful Sea! upon this shingly beach Of Aldborough I pace! My gazing eye Thy world of waters lost in the dim sky And claim their ancient empire of the dry Of towns long sunk, o'er which thy wild waves roar, I muse and mourn that who could amplest pour Homeric tones on thy resounding shore, PORSON, is dead! That sea of Grecian lore Unbounded, in the abyss of fate inurn'd!” Nov. 1, 1808. C. L. N LI. Greek Ode on Eton. By Mr. Capel Lofft. ΕΤΩΝΗ ΦΙΛΤΑΤΗ. ΕΤΩΝΑ, χαίροις· Καλα Ταμησιαις Κλινθεις' επ' όχθαις Κινδεσορης βλέπεις Ορειβαρη νεφεσσιν Αλκην Ενθρονον· ἡ θυγαίρεσσ' Άρηος Με απρεπει. Τροπαι ὅτι Γαλλικῶν Σεμνομία λέξας φύλον ὁμηλικῶν Διαυσίε Θεσμον πασιν ὑπερτερον |