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Of Lyric Tell June his fire and crimson dies,
he seems to have had a psalm of David in his view, Of Lyric Poetry. By Harriot's blush, and Harriot's eyes,
which says, that “the heavens declare the glory of God, Poetry. Eclips’d and vanquisb’d, fade away ;
and the firmament sheweth his handywork.”
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heav’ns, a shining frame, A pastoral The ensuing ode, written by Mr Collins on the death
Their great original proclaim :
both picturesque and pathetic. To perceive all the beau Does his Creator's pow'r display,
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the ev’ning shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And nightly to the list'ning earth
Repeats the story of her birth :
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll, of Æolus. That be, whose heart in sorrow bleeds,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What tho’in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ?
What tho' no real voice or sound
Amid their radiant orbs he found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
“ The hand that made us is divine.”
The following pastoral hymn is a version of the 23d
Psalm by Mr Addison ; the peculiar beauties of which
have occasioned many translations ; but we have seen | Rich The friend shall view yon whitening spiret,
none that is so poetical and perfect as this. And in mond And ’mid the varied landscape weep.
justice to Dr Boyce, we must observe, that the music church. But thou, who own'st that earthy bed,
he has adapted to it is so sweet and expressive, that we Ab! what will ev'ry dirge avail ?
know not which is to be most admired, the poet or the.
The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care ;
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye ;
My noon-day walks he shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary wand'ring steps he lçads;
Where peaceful rivers soft and slow
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
Tho' in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy borrors overspread,
My stedfast heart shall fear no ill :
For thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Tho' in a bare and rugged way, 128
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile :
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd; usually called hymns. Of these we have many in our
And streams shall murmur all around. language, but none perhaps that are so much admired as Mr Addison's. The beauties of the following hymn are III. We are now to speak of those odes which are the subtoo well known, and too obvious, to need any commen of the sublime and noble kind, and distinguished from lime ode. dation ; we shall only observe, therefore, that in this others by their elevation of thought and diction, as well hymn (intended to display the power of the Almighty) by the variety or irregularity of their numbers as the
of Lyric frequent transitions and bold excursions with which they Smiles in the bud, and glistens in the flow'r OL Lyric Poetry are enriched.
That crowns each vernal bow'r;
Or tells his love in many a liquid note,
Till rocks and forests ring ;
Or where the precious musk-deer playful rove ;
Safe banks and verd'rous hills
Thy present influence fills:
Blue crystal vault, and elemental fires,
Delusive pictures! unsubstantial shows !
and was so called from Pindar, an ancient Greek poet,
The odes of Pindar were held in such high estima
tion by the ancients, that it was fabled, in honour of Spirit of spirits, who, through every part
their sweetness, that the bees, while he was in the cradle, Of space expanded, and of endless time,
brought boney to his lips : nor did the victors at the Beyond the reach of lab'ring thought sublime, Olympic and other games think the crown a sufficient : Bad'st uproar into beauteous order start;
reward for their merit, unless their achievements were
celebrated in Pindar's songs; most wisely presaging,
measure, or with the same intention with regard to their
being sung. For the ode inscribed to Diagoras (tbe Omniscient Spirit, whose all-ruling pow'r
concluding stanza of which we inserted at the beginning Bids from each sense bright emanations beam; of this section) is in heroic measure, and all the stanzas Glows in tbe rainbow, sparkles in the stream, are equal : there are others also, as Mr West observes,
(F) For the philosophy of this ode, which represents the Deity as the soul of the world, or rather as the only Being (the to sy of the Greeks), see METAPhysics, No 269. and Philosophy, No 6.
Of Lyric made up of strophes aad antistrophes, without any epode; beauty, strength, courage, riches, and glory, resulting or Lyric
and measures': but the greatest part of his odes are di should be too much putied up with ihese praises, be re-
they sung in the middle, neither turning to one hand he not been restrained from engaging in those famous * Vid. Pref. nor the other. But Dr West's * friend is of opinion, lists by the too timid and cautious love of bis parents. to Wesl so that the performers also danced one way while they were Upon which be falls into a moral reflection upon the Pindar
singing the strophe, and danced back as they sung the an vanity of man's hopes and sears; by the former of which
As the various measures of Pindar's odes have been like to meet with, who both by father and mother was
more than the fields and trees are every year equally
fruitful; that the gods had not given mortals any cer-
tain tokens by which they might foreknow when the
Daughter of Rhea ! thou, whose holy fire
Before the awful seat of justice flames !
usual in all stagoras, Pindar turns himself in the next place to his And lo! with frequent offprings, they adore
solemn safather Arcesilas, whom he pronounces happy, as well Thee *, first invok'd in every solemn pray’r!
crifices and upon account of his son's merit and honour, as upon To thee unnux'd libations pour,
begin with his own great endowments and good fortune : such as And fill with od'rous fumes the fragrant air.
in oking Around Vesta.
* It was
Of Lyric Around in festive songs the hymning choir
or Lyric Poetry. Mix the melodious voice and sounding lyre,
But who could err in prophesying good
of him, whose undegenerating breast
Up to Pisander; who in days of yore
From old Amyclæ to the Lesbian shore
And Tenedos, colleagu'd in high command
With great Orestes, led th’ Æolian band ?
Nor was his mother's race less strong and brave,
Sprung from a stock that grew on fair * Ismenus' wave.
was a river Thy manly form with beauty hath refin'd,
of Baotia, And match'd that beauty with a valiant mind.
of which Yet let not man too much presume,
Tho' for long intervals obscur'd, again
country was Tho' grac'd with beauty's fairest bloom ; Oft-times the seeds of lineal worth appear.
pus, the an. Tho’ for superior strength renown'd;
For neither can the furrow'd plain
cestor of ATho' with triumphal chaplets crown'd:
Full harvests yield with each returning year; ristagoras Let him remember, that, in flesh array'd,
Nur in each period will the pregnant bloom
by the mo. Soon shall he see that mortal vestment fade;
Invest the smiling tree with rich perfume.
ther's side, Till lost, imprison’d in the mould’ring urn,
So, barren often, and inglorious, pass
The generations of a noble race;
While nature's vigour, working at the root,
In after-ages swells, and blossoms into fruit.
Nor hath Jove giv’n us to foreknow
When the rich years of virtue shall succeed :
Yet bold and daring on we go,
Contriving schemes of many a mighty deed ;
While hope, fond inmate of the human mind,
And self-opinion, active, rash, and blind,
Hold up a false illusive ray,
That leads our dazzled feet astray
Far from the springs, where, calm and slow,
The secret streams of wisdom flow.
Hence should we learn our ardour to restrain,
And limit to due bounds the thirst of gain.
To rage and madness oft that passion turns,
Which with forbidden flames despairing burns.
131 + A river, Now by the Gods I swear, his valorous might
From the above specimen, and from what we have Distinupon whose Had 'scap'd victorious in each bloody fight;
already said on this subject, the reader will perceive, guishing banks the And from Castalia t, or where dark with shade
that odes of this sort are distinguished by the bappy
of it. The mount of Saturn I rears its olive head,
transitions and digressions which they admit, and the games were exhibited. Great and illustrious home had he return'd;
surprising yet natural returns to the subject. This reA small While, by his fame eclips'd, his vanquish'd foes bad quires great judgment and genius; and the poet who hill planted
would excel in this kind of writing, should draw the with olives,
plan of his poem, in manner of the argument we have that over
EPODE II. looked the
above incerted, and mark out the places where those stadium at Then his triumphal tresses bound
elegant and beautiful sallies and wanderings may be Olympia. With the dark verdure of th’ Olympic grove,
made, and where the returns will be easy and proper.
Pindar, it is universally allowed, had a poetical and
fertile imagination, a warm and enthusiastic genius, a
tentious style: but it is generally supposed that many But, such is man's prepost'rous fate!
of those pieces which procured him such extravagant Now, with o'er-weening pride elate,
praises and extraordinary testimonies of esteem from Too far he aims his shaft to throw,
the ancients are lost; and if they were not, it would be And straining bursts his feeble bow:
perhaps impossible to convey them into our language ; Now pusillanimous, depress’d with fear,
for beauties of this kind, like plants of an odoriferous He checks his virtue in the mid career;
and delicate nature, are not to be transplanted into anAnd of his strength distrustful, coward fies
other clime without losing much of their fragrance or The contest, tho' empow’rd to gain the prize.
With regard to those compositions which are usually Assumes the god, Poetry. called Pinduric odes, (but which ought rather to be di
Afects to nod, stinguished by the name of irre ular odes), we have And seems to shake the spheres. 132
Chor. With ravish'd ears, Modern in our languaçe that deserve particular commen
&c. many odes comdation : the criticism which Mr Congreve has given us
The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung; monly cal on that subject, has too much asperity and too great
of Bacchus ever fair and ever young: led Pinda- latitude ; for if other writers have, by mistaking Pinric.
The jolly god in triumph comes ; dar's measures, given their odes an improper title, it
Sonnd the trumpets, beat the drums : is a crime, one would think, not so dangerous to the
Flush'd with a purple grace, commonwealth of letters as to deserve such severe re
He shows his honest face : proof. Besides which, we may suppose that some of
Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, be comes : these writers did not deviate from Pindar's method
Bacchus, ever fair and young, through ignorance, but by choice, and that as their odes
Drinking joys did first ordaio : were not to be performed with both singing and dan
Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, cing, in the manner of Pindar's, it seemed unnecessary
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure : to confine the first and second stanzas to the sanje exact
Rich the treasure,
Sweet the pleasure :
Sweet the pleasure after pain.
Chor. Bacchus blessings, &c.
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;
Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.
He chose a mournful muse
Soft pity to infuse :
He sung Darius great and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood;
Deserted at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
With not a friend to close bis
With downcast looks the joyless victor sat,
Revolving in his alter'd soul
The various turns of chance below;
And now and then a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.
Chor. Revolving, &c.
The mighty master smild to see
That love was in the next degree:
'Twas but a kindred sound to move ;
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures.
Soon he sooth'd bis soul to pleasures.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble ;
Honour but an empty bubble,
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying.
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O think, it worth enjoying.
Take the good the gods provide thee.
The many rend the skies with loud applause ;
Se love was crown'd, but music won the cause.
The prince, unable to conceal bis pain,
Gaz'd on the fair,
Wbo cuus'a bis care,