صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

O! to his wiser soul how low, how mean
Seem'd all he e'er had heard, had felt, had seen!
He view'd the stars; he view'd the crystal skies;
And bless'd the Power all-good, all-great,all-wise.
How lowly now appear’d the purple robe,
The rubied sceptre, and the ivory globe!
How dim the rays that gild the brittle earth!
How vile the brood of Folly and of Mirth!
When the third morning, clad in mantle gray,
Brought in her rosy car her seventieth day,
A band of slaves, who rush'd with furious sound,
In chains of steel the willing captive bound;
From his young head the diadem they tore,
And cast his pearly bracelets on the floor;
They rent his robe that bore the rose's hue,
And o'er his breast a hairy mantle threw;
Then dragg’d him to the damp and dreary cave,
Drench'd by the gloomy sea's resounding wave.
Meanwhile the voices of a numerous crowd
Pierced the dun air, as thunder breaks a cloud:
The nymphs another hapless youth had found,
And then were leading o'er the guilty ground:
They haild him king, (alas, how short his reign!)
And with fresh chaplets strow'd the fatal plain,

The happy exile, monarch now no more,
Was roving slowly o'er the lonely shore;
At last the sire's expected voice he knew,
And toward the sound with hasty rapture flew.
The promised pinnace just afloat he found,
And the glad sage his fetter'd hands unbound;
But when he saw the foaming billows rave,
And dragons rolling o'er the fiery wave,
He stopp'd; his guardian caught his lingering hand,
And gently led him o'er the rocky strand;

Soon as he touch'd the bark, the ocean smiled,
The dragons vanish’d, and the waves were mild.
For many an hour with vigorous arms they row'd,
While not a star one friendly sparkle show'd ;
At length a glimmering brightness they behold,
Like a thin cloud which morning dyes with gold:
To that they steer; and now, rejoiced, they view
A shore begirt with cliffs of radiant hue.
They land: a train, in shining mantles clad,
Hail their approach, and bid the youth be glad;
They led him o'er the lea with easy pace,
And floated, as they went, with heavenly grace.
A golden fountain soon appear’d in sight,
That o'er the border cast a sunny light.

The sage, impatient, scoop'd the lucid wave
In a rich vase, which to the youth he gave:
He drank ; and straight a bright celestial beam
Before his eyes display'd a dazzling gleam;
Myriads of airy shapes around him gazed ;
Some praised his wisdom, some his courage praised:
Then o'er his limbs a starry robe they spread,
And placed a crown of diamonds on his head.

His aged guide was gone, and in his place Stood a fair cherub flush'd with rosy grace; Who smiling spake Here ever wilt thou rest, Admired, beloved, our brother and our guest; So all shall end whom vice can charm no more With the gay follies of that perilous shore. See yon immortal towers their gates unfold, With rubies flaming, and no earthly gold! There joys, before unknown, thy steps invite; Bliss without care, and morn without a night. But now farewell! my duty calls me hence; Some injured mortal asks my just defence.

To yon pernicious island I repair,
Swift as a star.' He speaks, and melts in air.

The youth o'er walks of jasper takes his flight; And bounds and blazes in eternal light.

SIR W. JONES.

A PICTURE. Ah, who art thou, of more than mortal birth, Whom Heaven adorns with beauty's brightest

beam? On wings of speed why spurn’st thou thus the earth?

• Known but to few, OCCASION is my name, No rest I find, for underneath my feet

The eternal circle rolls that speeds my way; Not the strong eagle wings her course so fleet;

And these my glittering pinions I display, That from the dazzling sight thine eyes may

turn away ; In full luxuriance o'er my angel face

Float my thick tresses, free and unconfined, That through the veil my features few may trace;

But not one lock adorns my head behind. Once past, for ever gone, no mortal might

Shall bid the circling wheel return again.' But who is she, companion of thy flight?

• REPENTANCE! if thou' grasp at me in vain, Then must thou in thine arms her loathsome

form retain.' And now, while heedless of the truths I sing,

Vain thoughts and fond desires thy time employ, Ah, seest thou not-on swift but silent wing The form that smiled so fair has glided by.

4NONYMOUS. VOL. I.

K K

INSCRIPTION UNDER AN HOURGLASS,

IN A GROTTO NEAR THE WATER.

This bubbling stream not uninstructive flows,

Nor idly loiters to its destined main:
Each flower it feeds that on its margin grows,

And bids thee blush, whose days are spent in vain. Nor void of moral, though unheeded, glides

Time's current stealing on with silent haste; For lo! each falling sand his folly cbides Who lets one precious moment run to waste.

ANONYMOUS.

TRUE RICHES.

I AM not concern'd to know
What to-morrow Fate will do:
'Tis enough that I can say,
I've possess'd myself to-day:
Then, if haply midnight-death
Seize my flesh and stop my breath,
Yet to-morrow I shall be
Heir to the best part of me.

Glittering stones, and golden things,
Wealth and honours that have wings,
Ever fluttering to be gone,
I could never call my own:
Riches that the world bestows
She can take and I can lose;
But the treasures that are mine
Lie afar beyond her line.

When I view my spacious soul,
And survey myself a whole,
And enjoy myself alone,
I'm a kingdom of my own.

l’ve a mighty part within,
That the world hath never seen;
Rich as Eden's happy ground,
And with choicer plenty crown'd.
Here on all the shining boughs
Knowledge fair and useful grows ;
On the same young flowery tree
All the Seasons you may see;
Notions, in the bloom of light,
Just disclosing to the sight;
Here are thoughts of larger growth,
Ripening into solid truth;
Fruits refined, of noble taste ;
Seraphs feed on such repast.
Here, in a green and shady grove,
Streams of pleasure mix with love;
There, beneath the smiling skies,
Hills of contemplation rise;
Now, upon some shining top,
Angels light, and call me up;
I rejoice to raise my feet,
Both rejoice when there we meet.

There are endless beauties more, Earth hath no resemblance for; Nothing like them round the pole, Nothing can describe the soul: 'Tis a region half unknown, That has treasures of its own, More remote from public view Than the bowels of Peru;

« السابقةمتابعة »