Her trump terrific blows. Disparting from behind, the clouds disclose That with his scourge sublime rules the careering storm. III. 1. Ambition, outside fair! within as foul Who ride the hurricanes of fire that roll Their thundering vortex o'er the realms of woe, Yon naked waste survey; Where late was heard the flute's mellifluous lay; Where late the rosy-bosom'd hours In loose array danc'd lightly o'er the flowers; Where late the shepherd told his tender tale; And waken'd by the murmuring breeze of morn, The voice of cheerful Labour fill'd the dale; And dove-eyed Plenty smil'd, and wav'd her liberal horn. III. 2. Yon ruins, sable from the wasting flame, Save where, outstretch'd beneath yon hanging wall, Pale Famine moans with feeble breath, And Anguish yells, and grinds his bloody teethThough vain the Muse, and every melting lay, To touch thy heart, unconscious of remorse! Know, monster, know, thy hour is on the way, I see, I see the years begin their mighty course. Young Zephyrs wave their wanton wings, And melody celestial rings: All blooming on the lawn the nymphs advance, Exalt the festive note, Inviting Echo from her inmost grot But ah! the landscape glows with fainter light, It darkens, swims, and flies for ever from my sight. IV. 1. Illusions vain! Can sacred Peace reside Where Cruelty inflames the eye of Pride, And Grandeur wantons in soft Pleasure's arms? Ambition! these are thine: These from the soul erase the form divine; And quench the animating fire, That warms the bosom with sublime desire. Thence the relentless heart forgets to feel, And Hatred triumphs on th' o'erwhelming brow, And midnight Rancour grasps the cruel steel, Blaze the blue flames of death, and sound the shrieks of Woe. IV. 2. From Albion fled, thy once belov'd retreat, Waked by thy genial breath, the balmy rose? Does life inform fell Lybia's burning sand? Or does some isle thy parting flight detain, Where roves the Indian through primeval shades, Haunts the pure pleasures of the sylvan reign, And led by reason's light the path of nature treads. IV. 3. On Cuba's utmost steep1 Far leaning o'er the deep The Goddess' pensive form was seen. 1 This alludes to the discovery of America by the Spaniards under Columbus. Those ravagers are said to have made their first descent on the islands in the Gulf of Florida, of which Cuba is one. Wav'd on the gale; grief dimm'd her radiant eyes, Her bosom heav'd with boding sighs: She ey'd the main; where, gaining on the view, Emerging from th' ethereal blue, Midst the dread pomp of war, Blaz'd the Iberian streamer from afar. She saw; and, on refulgent pinions borne, Slow wing'd her way sublime, and mingled with the morn. THE TRIUMPH OF MELANCHOLY. MEMORY, be still! why throng upon the thought These scenes so deeply-stain'd with Sorrow's dye? Is there in all thy stores no cheerful draught, To brighten yet once more in Fancy's eye? Yes-from afar a landscape seems to rise, Embellish'd by the lavish hand of Spring; Thin gilded clouds float lightly o'er the skies, And laughing Loves disport on fluttering wing. How blest the youth in yonder valley laid! What smiles in every conscious feature play! While to the murmurs of the breezy glade His merry pipe attunes the rural lay. Hail Innocence! whose bosom, all serene, Vain wish! for lo, in gay attire conceal'd, Yonder she comes! the heart-inflaming fiend! (Will no kind power the helpless stripling shield?) Swift to her destin'd prey see Passion bend! O smile accurs'd, to hide the worst designs! Now with blithe eye she wooes him to be blest, While round her arm unseen a serpent twinesAnd lo, she hurls it hissing at his breast! And, instant, lo, his dizzy eyeball swims Ghastly, and reddening darts a frantic glare; Pain with strong grasp distorts his writhing limbs, And Fear's cold hand erects his frozen hair! Is this, O life, is this thy boasted prime! How memory pains! Let some gay theme beguile The musing mind, and soothe to soft delight. Ye images of woe, no more recoil; Be life's past scenes wrapt in oblivious night. |