Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, To meet the Sun upon the upland lawn. "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that bubbles by. "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping woeful wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. With antic sports and blue-ey'd pleasures, Slow-melting strains their queen's approach declare : The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love. II. Man's feeble race what ills await, Labour and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, Thine too these golden keys, immortal boy! Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears." Nor second he †, that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy, He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time: Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, Two coursers of ethereal race‡, [ing pace. With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resound And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! Hark, his hands the lyre explore! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse? Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, In climes beyond the solar road, [war. Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves. Th' unconquerable mind, and Freedom's holy flame. Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Or where Mæander's amber waves Murmur'd deep a solemn sound: Left their Parnassus, for the Latian plains. And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast. III. Far from the Sun and summer-gale, In thy green lap was Nature's darling * laid, To him the mighty mother did unveil Her aweful face: the dauntless child "This pencil take," she said, "whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: • Shakspeare. Bright-ey'd Fancy, hovering o'er, Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. But ah! 't is heard no more— Oh! lyre divine, what daring spirit "HENCE, avaunt, ('t is holy ground,) Where willowy Camus lingers with delight! Oft at the blush of dawn I trod your level lawn, Oft woo'd the gleam of Cynthia silver-bright But hark! the portals sound, and pacing forth High potentates and dames of royal birth, And sad Chatillon †, on her bridal morn That wept her bleeding love, and princely Clare †, The murder'd saint, and the majestic lord, (Their tears, their little triumphs o'er, And bade these aweful fanes and turrets rise, The liquid language of the skies. "What is grandeur, what is power? Edward the Third; who added the fleur-delis of France to the arms of England. He founded Trinity College. Mary de Valentia, Countess of Pembroke, daughter of Guy de Chatillon, Comte de St. Paul in France: of whom tradition says, that her bus Let painted Flattery hide her serpent-train in flowers. band, Audemar de Valentia, Earl of Pembroke, was Nor Envy base, nor creeping Gain, Dare the Muse's walk to stain, While bright-ey'd Science watches round: From yonder realms of empyrean day To bless the place, where on their opening soul 'T was Milton struck the deep-ton'd shell, "Ye brown o'er-arching groves, That Contemplation loves, slain at a tournament on the day of his nuptials. She was the foundress of Pembroke College or Hall, under the name of Aula Mariæ de Valentia. Elizabeth de Burg, Countess of Clare, was wife of John de Burg, son and heir of the Earl of Ulster, and daughter of Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, by Joan of Acres, daughter of Edward the First. Hence the poet gives her the epithet of princely. She founded Clare-Hall. § Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry the Sixth, foundress of Queen's College. The poet had celebrated her conjugal fidelity in a former ode. Elizabeth Widville, wife of Edward the Fourth (hence called the paler rose, as being of the house of York). She added to the foundation of Margaret of Anjou. ¶ Henry the Sixth and Eighth. The former the founder of King's, the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity College. Foremost and leaning from her golden cloud "Welcome, my noble son," she cries aloud, "Lo, Granta waits to lead her blooming band. Not obvious, not obtrusive, she No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings; With modest pride to grace thy youthful brow Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay. ODE ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES. 'T WAS on a lofty vase's side, Gaz'd on the lake below. Her conscious tail her joy declar'd ; She saw; and purr'd applause. Still had she gaz'd; but 'midst the tide Countess of Richmond and Derby; the mother of Henry the Seventh, foundress of St. John's and Christ's Colleges. + The Countess was a Beaufort, and married to a Tudor; hence the application of this line to the Duke of Grafton, who claims descent from both these families. Lord-treasurer Burleigh was chancellor of the University in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. While some on earnest business bent 'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty; Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry: Gay Hope is theirs, by Fancy fed, Less pleasing, when possest; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast: Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue; Wild wit, invention ever new, And lively cheer of vigour born; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light, That fly th' approach of morn. Alas, regardless of their doom, The little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come, Yet see how all around them wait And black Misfortune's baleful train, Ah, show them where in ambush stand To seize their prey, the murderous band! Ah, tell them, they are men! These shall the fury passions tear, And Shame that skulks behind; Or pining Love, shall waste their youth, Or Jealousy, with rankling tooth, That inly gnaws the secret heart, And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visag'd comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart. Ambition this shall tempt to rise, And grinning Infamy. The stings of Falsehood those shall try, And hard Unkindness' alter'd eye, That mocks the tear it forc'd to flow; And keen Remorse, with blood defil'd, And moody Madness laughing wild Amid severest woe. Lo, in the vale of years beneath The painful family of Death, More hideous than their queen : This racks the joints, this fires the veins, Those in the deeper vitals rage: To each his sufferings: all are men, Yet ah! why should they know their fate? And happiness too swiftly flies. THE BARD. A PINDARIC ODE. I. "RUIN seize thee, ruthless king! On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, With haggard eyes the poet stood; Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air,) To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. "Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, That hush'd the stormy main; Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-top'd head. Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale: * The hauberk was a texture of steel ringlets, or rings interwoven, forming a coat of mail, that sat close to the body, and adapted itself to every motion. + Gilbert de Clare, surnamed the Red, Earl of Gloucester and Hertford, son-in-law to King Ed ward. Edmond de Mortimer, Lord of Wigmore. The shores of Caernarvonshire opposite to the Isle of Anglesea. |