Imágenes de páginas

Ha! what forms, with port sublime,*

Glide along in sullen mood,
Scorning all the threats of time,

High above Misfortune's flood.

They seize their harps, they strike the lyre

With rapid hand, with freedom's fire.

Obedient Nature hears the lofty sound,

And Snowdon's airy cliffs the heavenly strains resound.

In pomp of state, behold they wait,

\\rith arms outstretch'd, and aspects kind,
To snatch on high to yonder sky,
The child of Fancy left behind:
Forgot the woes of Camnria's fatal day,
By rapture's blaze impeH'd, they swell the artless lav.

But ah' in vain they strive to soothe,
With gentle arts, the tort'ring hours J

Adversity,+ with rankling tooth,
Her baleful gift* profusely pours.

Behold she comes, the fiend forlorn,
Array'd in Horror's settled gloom;
She strews the briar and prickly thorn,
And triumphs in th' infernal doom.
With frantic fury and insatiate rage
She gnaws the throbbing breast and blasts the glov
ing page.

No more the soft iEolian flute J

Breathes through the heart the melting strain »
The powers of Harmony are mut«
And leave the once-delightful plain •
With heavy wing, I see them beat the air,
Damp'd by the leaden hand of comfortless Despair.

* The Kara, an Ode.
f Hvmn to Aiiver-itv.
i The Pr<.>jjrt:&* of t'oesv.

Yet stay, O ! stay, celestial pow'rs,

And with a hand of kind regard
Dispel the boist'rous storm that lours
Destructive on the fav'rite bard j
O watch with me his last expiring breath,
And snatch him from the arms of dark, oblivious death.

Hark ! the Fatal Sisters* join,
And with Horror's muttering sounds,

Weave the tissue of his line,

While the dreadful spell resounds.

'Hail, ye midnight sisters, hail!

Drive the shuttle swift along;
Let your secret charms prevail

O'er the valiant and the strong.

'O'er the glory of the land,

O'er the innocent and gay,
O'er the Muse's tuneful band—

Weave the fun'ral web of Gray.'

'Tis done, 'tis done—the iron hand of pain,
With ruthless fury and corrosive force,

Racks every joint, and seizes every vein:
He sinus, he groans, he falls a lifeless corse.

Thus fades the fiow'r nipp'd bv the frozen gale,
Though once so sweet, so iovely to the eye:

Thus the tall oaks, when boist'rous storms assail.
Torn from the earth, a mighty ruin lie.

Ye sacred sisters of the plaintive verse,
Now let the stream of fond affection flow;

0 pay your tribute o'er the slow-drawn hearse,
With all the manly dignity of woe.

• The Fat3l Sistera, an Ode.

Oft when the curfew tolls its parting knell
With solemn pause yon Church-yard's gloom survey.

While Sorrow's sighs and tears of Pity tell
How just the moral of the Poet's lay.*

O'er his green grave, in Contemplation's guise,

Oft let the pilgrim drop a silent tear: Oft let the shepherd's tender accents rise,

Big with the sweets of each revolving year; Till prostrate Time adore his deathless name, Fix'd on the solid base of adamantine fame.





By Mr. Mason,

No more the Grecian Muse unrivall'd reigns*
To Britain let the nations homage pay!

She boasts a Homer's fire in*Milton's strains,
A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray.

• Ktetr» in a Country Ctaurcb-yard.




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