Classic Poem

WHAT ! Lines on Nelson 's ghost again!
Why not run back to Blenheim's plain,
And dig a Hero from its Turf?
Or call brave H OSIER from the surf,
Or J OHN O'G AUNT raise up once more,
Or C ÆSAR , who on Tiber's shore
Made such a crash that every Muse
Sprung up at once, and all the Crews
Of Bards and Bardlings round their Hill
Sung he out-did the Son of P HIL !
Why the oft beaten track pursue?
And slowly twine a withering Yew
For one by every Witling sung,
By Maids and Widows, Old, and Young,
For one whose trite, oft-chaunted, ditty
At length annoys both dull and witty!
'Tis but a new-born Theme sublime
Can e'er inspire the mystic Rhyme,
That starts the latent prison'd tear,
Bids ardors flame, or chills with fear,
Gains empire o'er the tranced Soul,
And holds the Passions in controul!
The true Bard doth, with lightning ray,
Point out, the Object for the day,
Rushes before the voice of Fame,
Lifting on high some chosen name,
Which must be honoured must be proud,
Because the Poet so hath vow'd!
Some Bard inspired! look forth and see
A lofty Thesis start to thee!
Mark with thine eye the boisterous surge,
Where Royal Squadrons cautious urge
Their awful flight! Oh, trace their foamy course,
And all thy Genius to the subject force.
Nor fear thou'rt tasked but with a darkling theme,
To Time's last Wonders will its Splendors stream!
Not harrass'd thus sailed E GYPT 's guilty Queen!
With silken sails She skim'd the seas serene,
Lisbon's pale Queen toils on by Tempests tost,
Of Crown bereft, and e'en her Country lost.
His Sire, from Tyrant power, Æneas bore,
Her Son transports her to a safer shore—
Ah! in fell rage did Grecian Powers employ
Their savage wiles to desolate proud Troy?
Still doth a Greek descendent scourge the World,
O'er half Earth's ramparts are his Flags unfurled,
Empires beneath them bow, with mutter'd groans,
As he seats Murderers on their ancient Thrones!
But, Lusitanians breathe not to complain,
They launch their Fleets, and dare the boisterous Main.
The boisterous Main, in all its horrors drest,
Receives the victims on its turbid breast,
Who strain their eyes to Lisbon's beauteous bay,
Till height'ning billows intercept each ray,
And, skreen'd by liquid sand, and thick'ning ooze,
Its beauteous Amphitheatre they lose.
In the mind's eye the Fleet darts on, they land,
Where thundering Forts salute along the strand.
The Regal Wanderer, unsubdued by Toil,
Springs a new Sovereign on a loyal soil,
Sees Cities, Provinces, the Presence greet,
Sees a formed Nation at their Monarch's feet,
Whilst glow heroic, and tumultuous joy,
Inspire their Hearts, and every fear destroy.
Pass o'er the Noons to fresh enchantments given,
Nor dwell on midnight splendors, almost Heaven.
Stop not to paint gay Months, nay years pass by,
Dart o'er a Century a prescient eye.
Perceive to every European Art
Th' enchanting Climate added Zest impart,
The Daughter graceful in her deck'd attire,
The Son instructed by his polish'd Sire.
See Europe's Forms with Tropic whim combine,
In fond alliance through their desarts shine,
The graceful Union wake a local taste,
As Architecture decks each sandy waste.
Pilasters pierced festoons of carved-work fling
Round beauteous Villas as from earth they spring.
Polish'd, and tinted with cerulean dyes,
Pavilions roof'd with Cocoa-shells arise,
Whose Convex Forms such lovely Lightness know
As ne'er from strait-lined slopes was taught to flow.
Upwards through Chrystal tubes cold Fountains start,
And multiformed, as ever daring Art
Can new Ideas, wild or classic, frame,
Shapes rise which yet can boast nor life nor name.
Through late dry voids behold the riv'lets creep,
Or o'er the crag the living streamlets leap,
Dash down the Dell, quick from the shiver'd rock,
Or glide around and quench the red fleeced flock,
Whose fibry shag, filled by the sun's strait beams,
Through the thick hour of zenith'd darkness gleams.
But ah! how much, how far beyond all these,
How far transcending Taste, and powers to please,
Is the blest gift th' expatriate Sovereign bears,
To S ALVADOR 's rich coasts, and R IO 'a heirs,
Oh! my Nerves thrill! all trembling, I refrain,
And my receding hand denies the strain!
Seize, Bard inspired! the Theme, and boldly show,
Whilst thy rapt mind is filled with pious glow,
The Hills where future holy Fanes will stand,
And fill with songs of Praise the Christian Land!
Altars, at which the Sacrifice is Prayer,
A Creed, which stamps lost man Heaven's hallowed heir.
To raise Devotion to its noblest glow,
Grant every grandeur feeling can bestow.
The pealing Organ, swelling to the wind,
Will all its Stores of Harmony unbind,
Whilst Voices rich its Diapasons aid,
In shades of matchless Melody arrayed,
And stranger-music to the Southern Pole,
In vollied streams, its airs sublime will roll!
And as the long benighted wake in Light,
All their coarse Org'es in eternal flight,
Point out their worship'd Sun assigned its place,
No more a Godhead, fill a Creature's space,
Whilst bursts an Uncreated Sun around,
To pierce, with rays divine, the dark profound!
To show, on High, how sinners freed can pray,
Will rapid Seraphs wing their fragrant way;
On every Morn's attenuated gale
Cherubic Messengers will bear the tale,
And to the raptured haunts of peopled Heaven
Recount triumphantly the bounties given.
Proclaim that Gentile Nations fast are won,
And wide established The Redeemer's throne,
That the faint Indian, in the central Mine,
Is cheer'd by sacred writ and Hope divine,
Darts in his thoughts beyond his dreary home,
And, ruminates on bliss, amidst a breathing tomb.
For, even there, Angelic Harps may sound,
And heavenly music fill the Caverns round.
There, where the Diamond gains its restless Ray,
And chemic glow-worms shed refracted day,
Celestial Shades e'en thither may have hied,
And o'er the tesselated gems may glide,
Sweet Consolations breathing as they go
Imparting transports to the sons of woe!
Where through its regions can earth's Surface boast
A Dome, like theirs, to lure th' immortal host?
Whose buried labyrinths their wiles unfold,
Silver'd in veins, or corrugant with Gold.
Where doth one Palace, raised by Human Powers,
Own Ruby Colonnades, or Emerald Bowers?
Are sparkling Roofs that nurture living Gems
Built near the Ganges? or the wealthier Thames?
Some teach Bright Beings glide in Upper Air,
Doth fixed Necessity confine them there?
Ah, no! through all the works of God they rove,
Fresh Wisdom gathering here, beneath, above,
Each Element Celestials claim and know,
In cold Glaciers dilate, and midst Vesuvius glow.
Thus may in Mines where Slaves pour forth the sigh
Descending Hosts of pitying Angels fly,
With Visions cheer them, soothing their distress,
And, with sweet Hopes, their hurried slumbers bless.
'Tis happiness on Earth, such bliss to hope,
And give exhilarating Prescience scope,
As the whole Soul is charged with Sacred Lore,
And Meditation heaven-ward makes us soar
To scan the vast events by Prophets told,
In time obscure bound up, in Ages roll'd.
They now, e'en now, unfold before our eyes,
B RAGANZA with the glorious burthen flies!
They fly, unconscious of the heavenly load,
Nor feel impelled by Bethlehem's Mighty God.
In vain the winds contend, the Tempests rave,
Through Bethlehem's God! they triumph o'er the wave,
Braganza's bark shall on the breakers sleep,
Though Satan stir the demons of the deep.
For as Th' Incarnate spake in days of old,
He now begins to form his mighty Fold,
Whilst H ALLELUJAHS through Heaven's concave rise
Midst Systems hung successive through the skies
In Mercy guides his creatures to their Heaven,
Their Souls by faith sustain'd, their trespasses forgiven!