« السابقةمتابعة »
Immortal Liberty! whose look sublime
ANTISTROPHE. The Saxon prince in horror filed From altars stain'd with human gore; And Liberty his routed legions led In safety to the bleak Norwegian shore. There in a cave asleep she lay, Lull’d by the hoarse-resounding main ; When a bold savage past that way, Impell’d by Destiny, his name Disdain. Of ample front the portly chief appear'd : The hunted bear supplied a shaggy vest; The drifted snow hung on his yellow beard ; And his broad shoulders braved the furious blast, He stopt ; he gazed ; his bosom glow'd, And deeply felt the impression of her charms :
(a) Charlemagne obliged four thousand Saxon prisoners to embrace the Christian religion, and, immediately after they were baptized, ordered their throats to be cut. Their prince, Vitikind, fled for shelter to Gotric, king of Den. mark.
He seized the advantage Fate allow'd ;
STROPHE. The curlieu scream'd, the Tritons blew Their shells to celebrate the ravish'd rite; Old Time exulted as he flew ; And Independence saw the light. The light he saw in Albion's happy plains, Where under cover of a flowering thorn, While Philomel renew'd her warbled strains, The auspicious fruit of stolen embrace was born ; The mountain Dryads seized with joy, The smiling infant to their charge consign'd ; The Doric Muse caress'd the favourite boy ; The hermit Wisdom stored his opening mind. As rolling years matured his age, He flourish'd bold and sinewy as his sire; While the mild passions in his breast assuage The fiercer flames of his maternal sire.
BORN 1721-Died 1791.
“ The blind poet" was a native of Annan, in Dumfries
shire. At six months old he lost his sight in the smallpox ; and, when he reached the proper age, his father and friends, to lighten this calamity, read to him whatever they conceived likely to please and interest him in
the English classics and poets. In this manner his taste
for poetry was early formed. At the age of twenty he lost his kind father. About the
same time his MS. verses attracted so much attention, that, with the assistance of some generous friends, he was sent to the University of Edinburgh. His promising abilities, and the sympathy excited by his blindness, procured him many useful friends, who promoted the sale of his works, and thus enabled him to continue his studies, till, in 1759, he was licensed as a preacher of the Scottish church. He now married the daughter of a surgeon in his native town,-a union that contributed much to the
happiness of his future life. Blacklock was presented to the church of Kirkcudbright; but the appointment of a blind pastor gave so much offence to the worthy parishioners, that, on receiving a very moderate annuity, he gave up his clerical charge, and removed to Edinburgh, where, during the remainder of his life, he received into his family, as boarders and pupils, a few young gentlemen among the students
at the University. His verse and his conversation attracted many friends
around the cheerful and amiable blind poet ; and he enjoyed the friendship and correspondence of many men distinguished in literature. In the composition of various works, the instruction of his pupils, and the elegant enjoyments of society, Blacklock passed a placid and not useless life. He ought ever to be gratefully remembered as the first friend of Burns. But for his fortunate, generous, and happily-timed interference, Burns, then on the very eve of sailing for the West Indies, must have been for ever lost to his country,
THE PORTRAIT. STRAIGHT is my person, but of little size; Lean are my cheeks, and hollow are my eyes : My youthful down is, like my talents, rare; Politely distant stands each single hair. My voice too rough to charm a lady's ear; So smooth a child may listen without fear; Not form'd in cadence soft and warbling lays, To sooth the fair through pleasure's wanton ways. My form so fine, so regular, so new, My port so manly, and so fresh my hue; Oft, as I meet the crowd, they, laughing, say, " See, see Memento Mori cross the way.” The ravish'd Proserpine at last, we know, Grew fondly jealous of her sable beau ; But, thanks to Nature ! none from me need fly, One heart the devil could wound--so cannot I.
Yet, though my person fearless may be seen, There is some danger in my graceful mien : For, as some vessel, toss'd by wind and tide, Bounds o'er the waves, and rocks from side to
side, In just vibration thus I always move: This who can view and not be forced to love ?
Hail! charming self! by whose propitious aid My form in all its glory stands display'd : Be present still ; with inspiration kind, Let the same faithful colours paint the mind.
Like all mankind, with vanity I'm bless'd, Conscious of wit I never yet possess'd. To strong desires my heart an easy prey, Oft feels their force, but never owns their sway.
This hour, perhaps, as death I hate my foe;
BORN 1724DIED 1805.
This lively and agreeable versifier was, in common with
a very great proportion of literary men, the son of a clergyman. From Eton he went to Cambridge, where, in 1742, he obtained a degree, which he resigned on coming to his patrimony and marrying. The New BATH GUIDE, Anstey's well-known poem, was
exceedingly popular at the time of publication, and has been often taken as a model in a new style of English verse, - sketchy, humorous, sometimes pointed, but in its love of mischief rather sportful than malignant. Mr Anstey died at Bath at a very advanced age. He was the father of-thirteen children.