pass, Fill to the good man’s name one grateful glass:
To higher zest shall Memory wake thy soul,
And Virtue mingle in the ennobled bowl.
But if, like me, through Life’s distressful scene 15
Lonely and sad thy pilgrimage hath been;
And if thy breast with heart-sick anguish fraught,
Thou journeyest onward tempest-tossed in thought;
Here cheat thy cares! in generous visions melt,
And dream of Goodness, thou hast never felt! 20
IMITATED FROM THE WELSH
If while my passion I impart,
You deem my words untrue,
O place your hand upon my heart —
Feel how it throbs for you!
Ah no! reject the thoughtless claim 5
In pity to your Lover!
That thrilling touch would aid the flame
It wishes to discover.
LINES: TO A BEAUTIFUL SPRING IN A VILLAGE
Once more! sweet Stream! with slow foot wandering near,
I bless thy milky waters cold and clear.
Escap’d the flashing of the noontide hours,
With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers
(Ere from thy zephyr-haunted brink I turn) 5
My languid hand shall wreath thy mossy urn.
For not through pathless grove with murmur rude
Thou soothest the sad wood-nymph, Solitude;
Nor thine unseen in cavern depths to well,
The Hermit-fountain of some dripping cell! 10
Pride of the Vale! thy useful streams supply
The scatter’d cots and peaceful hamlet nigh.
The elfin tribe around thy friendly banks
With infant uproar and soul-soothing pranks,
Releas’d from school, their little hearts at rest, 15
Launch paper navies on thy waveless breast.
The rustic here at eve with pensive look
Whistling lorn ditties leans upon his crook,
Or, starting, pauses with hope-mingled dread
To list the much-lov’d maid’s accustom’d tread: 20
She, vainly mindful of her dame’s command,
Loiters, the long-fill’d pitcher in her hand.
Unboastful Stream! thy fount with pebbled falls
The faded form of past delight recalls,
What time the morning sun of Hope arose, 25
And all was joy; save when another’s woes
A transient gloom upon my soul imprest,
Like passing clouds impictur’d on thy breast.
Life’s current then ran sparkling to the noon,
Or silvery stole beneath the pensive Moon: 30
Ah! now it works rude brakes and thorns among,
Or o’er the rough rock bursts and foams along!
IMITATIONS: AD LYRAM
(CASIMIR, BOOK II. ODE 3)
The solemn-breathing air is ended —
Cease, O Lyre! thy kindred lay!
From the poplar-branch suspended
Glitter to the eye of Day!
On thy wires hov’ring, dying, 5
Softly sighs the summer wind:
I will slumber, careless lying,
By yon waterfall reclin’d.
In the forest hollow-roaring
Hark! I hear a deep’ning sound — 10
Clouds rise thick with heavy low’ring!
See! th’ horizon blackens round!
Parent of the soothing measure,
Let me seize thy wetted string!
Swiftly flies the flatterer, Pleasure, 15
Headlong, ever on the wing.
AD LYRAM.
Sonori buxi Filia sutilis,
Pendebis alta, Barbite, populo,
Dum ridet aer, et supinas
Solicitat levis aura frondes:
Te sibilantis lenior halitus
Perflabit Euri: me iuvet interim
Collum reclinasse, et virenti
Sic temere iacuisse ripa.
Eheu! serenum quae nebulae tegunt
Repente caelum! quis sonus imbrium!
Surgamus — heu semper fugaci
Gaudia praeteritura passu!
‘Advertisement’ to Ad Lyram,
in Watchman, II, March 9, 1796.
TO LESBIA
Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus.
CATULLUS.
My Lesbia, let us love and live,
And to the winds, my Lesbia, give
Each cold restraint, each boding fear
Of age and all her saws severe.
Yon sun now posting to the main 5
Will set, — but ‘tis to rise again; —
But
