And o'er my soul thy mystic visions pour,
Pure, intellectual; such as, fed
By happiest presage of better days,
Round modest Merit's drooping head
Beam the clear sunshine of ingenuous praise :
Such as the wounded bosom cheer,
Whene'er by cold Neglect depress'd,
Or held by Obloquy in thrall,
Or steep'd in Envy's venom'd gall:
Then, Sleep, thy healing influence bring,
Soft slumbers waft on downy wing,
And breathe the balm divine of visionary rest.
Thus, Sleep, oft let me lie
Beneath thy grateful shadowings: Call around
Every magic sight and sound;
Shifting swift from grave to gay,
Mingling shade or flashing day,
Glance with fairy footsteps by,
And lull each sense in ecstasy!
Oft let the friend of former days
Meet in sweet colloquial talk,
And midst thy moonlight scenes delighted walk,
While on each others face we gaze,
And with congenial warmth our bosoms burn
Of sacred amity; overjoy'd to live
The spring time of our youth again,
To taste the pleasure or the pain,
And with remembrance bland survive
Thus, Sleep, oft find me, at thy soft return,
While Philomela pours her minstrelsy;
And to my sight in colours faint
Those future scenes of Beauty paint
Which oft, with foretaste kind, await
On Virtue, in this transient state,
Exhibiting, in vision high,
A weak but rapturous glance of Immortality!
SWELL the clarion, sweep the string,
Blow into rage the Muse's fires!
All thy answers, Echo, bring,
Let wood and dale, let rock and valley ring : 'Tis Madness' self inspires.
Hail, awful Madness, hail!
Thy realm extends, thy powers prevail, Far as the voyager spreads his venturous sail. Nor best nor wisest are exempt from thee; Folly-Folly's only free.
Hark!-to the astonish'd ear
The gale conveys a strange tumultuous sound.
They now approach, they now appear,-
Frenzy leads her chorus near,
And demons dance around.-
Pride-Ambition idly vain,
Revenge and Malice swell her train,-
Devotion warp'd-Affection cross'd-
Hope in disappointment lost-
And injured Merit with a downcast eye
(Hurt by neglect) slow stalking heedless by.
Loud the shouts of Madness rise,
Various voices, various cries,
Mirth unmeaning-causeless moans,
Bursts of laughter-heartfelt groans-
All seem to pierce the skies.—
Rough as the wintry wave that roars
On Thule's desert shores,
Wild raving to the' unfeeling air,
The fetter'd Maniac foams along
(Rage the burden of his jarring song), [hair.
In rage he grinds his teeth, and rends his streaming
No pleasing memory left--forgotten quite
All former scenes of dear delight;
Connubial love-parental joy
No sympathies like these his soul employ,But all is dark within, all furious black despair.
Not so the lovelorn Maid,
By too much tenderness betray'd;
Her gentle breast no angry passion fires,
But slighted vows possess, and fainting soft desires.
She yet retains her wonted flame,
All-but in reason, still the same :
Streaming eyes,
Incessant sighs,
Dim haggard looks, and clouded o'er with care,
Point out to Pity's tears the poor distracted fair.
Dead to the world-her fondest wishes cross'd,
She mourns herself thus early lost.-
Now, sadly gay, of sorrows past she sings,
Now, pensive, ruminates unutterable things:
She starts-she flies who dares so rude
On her sequester'd steps intrude!-
'Tis he the Momus of the flighty train
Merry mischief fills his brain.
Blanket-robed, and antic-crown'd,
The mimic monarch skips around;
Big with conceit of dignity he smiles,
And plots his frolics quaint and unsuspected
Laughter was there but mark that groan,
Drawn from the inmost soul!
'Give the knife, demons, or the poison'd bowl, To finish miseries equal to your own.'
Who's this wretch, with horror wild?-
-'Tis Devotion's ruin'd child:
Sunk in the emphasis of grief,
Nor can he feel, nor dares he ask relief.-
Thou, fair Religion, wast design'd,
Duteous daughter of the skies,
To warm and cheer the human mind,
To make men happy, good, and wise:
To point where sits, in love array'd,
Attentive to each suppliant call,
The God of universal aid,
The God, the Father of us all!
First shown by thee, thus glow'd the gracious
Till Superstition, fiend of woe,
Bade doubts to rise, and tears to flow, And spread deep shades our view and Heaven
Drawn by her pencil the Creator stands
(His beams of mercy thrown aside),
With thunder arming his uplifted hands,
And hurling vengeance wide:
Hope, at the frown aghast, yet lingering, flies, And, dash'd on Terror's rocks, Fate's best depen
But ah!-too thick they crowd, -too close they
Objects of pity and affright!
Spare farther the descriptive song
Nature shudders at the sight :
Protract not, curious ears, the mournful tale,
But o'er the hapless group, low drop Compassion's
SUN of the soul! whose cheerful ray
Darts o'er this gloom of life a smile;
Sweet Hope, yet further gild my way,
Yet light my weary steps awhile,
Till thy fair lamp dissolve in endless day.
O, come with such an eye and mien
As when by amorous shepherd seen;
While in the violet-breathing vale
He meditates his evening tale!
Nor leave behind thy fairy train,
Repose, Belief, and Fancy vain,
That, towering on her wing sublime,
Outstrips the lazy flight of Time,
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