ON LYRIC POETRY. BY DR. AKENSIDE. Once more I join the Thespian quire, And taste th' inspiring fount again: O parent of the GrÆcian lyre, Admit me to thy secret strain.—— And lo! with ease my step invades The pathless vale and opening shades, Till now I spy her verdant seat; And now at large I drink the sound, While these her offspring, list'ning round, By turns her melody repeat. I see anacreon smile and sing: His silver tresses breathe perfume; His cheek displays a second spring Of roses taught by wine to bloom. Away, deceitful cares, away! And let me listen to his lay! While turtle-wing'd the laughing hours Lead hand in hand the festal pow'rs, Lead Youth and Love, and harmless Joy. Broke from the fetters of his native land, Devoting shame and vengeance to her lords, With louder impulse, and a threat'ning hand, The Ye wretches, ye perfidious train, Ye curst of Gods and free-born men, Ye murd'rers of the laws, Tho' now you glory in your lust, Tho' now you tread the feeble neck in dust, Yet time and righteous jove will judge your dreadful cause. But lo, to sappho's mournful airs Descends the radiant queen of love; She smiles, and asks what fonder cares Her suppliant's plaintive measures move: Why is my faithful maid distrest? Who, sappho, wounds thy tender breast? Shuns he thy gifts?——He too shall give: Slights he thy sorrows?——He shall grieve, And bend him to thy haughtiest vow. But, O melpomene, for whom Awakes thy golden shell again? What mortal breath shall e'er presume To echo that unbounded strain? Majestic, in the frown of years, Behold, the For some there are, whose mighty frame The hand of jove at birth endow'd With hopes that mock the gazing crowd; As eagles drink the noontide flame. While the dim raven beats his weary wings, And clamours far below.——Propitious Muse, While I so late unlock thy hallow'd springs, And breathe whate'er thy ancient airs infuse, To polish Albion's warlike ear This long-lost melody to hear, Thy sweetest arts imploy; As when the winds from shore to shore, Thro' Greece thy lyre's persuasive language bore, Till towns, and isles, and seas return'd the vocal joy. The loose-rob'd forms of wild desire With lawless notes intun'd thy song, To shameful steps dissolv'd thy quire. O fair, O chaste, be still with me From such profaner discord free: While I frequent thy tuneful shade, No frantic shouts of Thracian dames, No satyrs fierce with savage flames Thy pleasing accents shall invade. Queen of the lyre, in thy retreat The fairest flow'rs of Pindus glow; The vine aspires to crown thy seat, And myrtles round thy laurel grow. Thy strings attune their varied strain, To ev'ry pleasure, every pain, Which mortal tribes were born to prove, And strait our passions rise or fall, As at the wind's imperious call The ocean swells, the billows move. When midnight listens o'er the slumb'ring earth, Let me, O Muse, thy solemn whispers hear: When morning sends her fragrant breezes forth, With airy murmurs touch my op'ning ear. And ever watchful at thy side, Let wisdom's awful suffrage guide To her of old by jove was giv'n To judge the various deeds of earth and heav'n; 'Twas thine by gentle arts to win us to her sway. Oft as from stricter hours resign'd I quit the maze where science toils, Do thou refresh my yielding mind With all thy gay, delusive spoils. But, O indulgent, come not nigh The busy steps, the jealous eye Of gainful care, and wealthy age, Whose barren souls thy joys disdain, And hold as foes to reason's reign Whome'er thy lovely haunts engage. With me, when mirth's consenting band Around fair friendship's genial board Invite the heart-awakening hand, With me salute the Teian chord. Or if invok'd at softer hours, O seek with me the happy bow'rs That hear dione's gentle tongue; To beauty link'd with virtue's train, To love devoid of jealous pain, There let the Sapphic lute be strung. A hero bleeding for his native land; Or when to nourish freedom's vestal flame, I hear my genius utter his command, Nor Theban voice, nor Lesbian lyre From thee, O Muse, do I require, While my prophetic mind, Conscious of pow'rs she never knew, Astonish'd grasps at things beyond her view, Nor by another's fate hath felt her own confin'd. FINIS. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES Eighteenth-century idiosyncrasies of spelling, punctuation and capitalisation have been retained. In the Scottish poems "Prologue to Sir David Lyndesay's Dream" and "Hardyknute", the letter "z" has been used by the original editor to represent the letter "?" or "yogh". The variants "aereal" and "aerial", "All-powerful" and "All-pow'rful", "far-famd" and "far-fam'd", "noontide" and "noon-tide", "Phebus", "PhÆbus", "Phoebus" and "Phoebus", "upland" and "up-land", "woodman" and "wood-man" appear in this text. The poem "A Love-Elegy, by Mr. Hammond" begins on page 57, not 47 (as given in the Table of Contents). The incorrect page number has been retained in the Table of Contents, but a link has been made to the correct page. On p. 4 quotation marks are missing after "Queen!" but the text has been left unchanged. On p. 69 there should perhaps be closing quotation marks after "print the ground" and "his father and his God" but the text has been left unchanged. On p. 79 the stanza numbering goes from XXI to XXIII in mid-page. On p. 107 there should perhaps be closing quotation marks after "be but good!" but the text has been left unchanged. On p. 115 the line "Is this, he cries, the trumpet's warlike sound?" has been left unchanged, although quotation marks appear to be missing before and after "he cries". On p. 134 closing quotation marks appear to be missing after "commands" but the text has been left unchanged. On p. 144 stanza number XXXVIII is incorrectly given as XXXXVIII. The following amendments have been made: p. 7: missing hyphen inserted in "Flower-de-lyce"; p. 16: "reluctant crouds" amended to "reluctant clouds"; p. 64: repeated "shall" deleted in "My sympathizing verse shall flow"; p. 95: extra comma removed after "swain"; p. 100: "votaties" amended to "votaries"; p. 109: after "ESQ" comma changed to full stop; p. 114: "mounts" changed to "mount". |