Original sonnets on various subjects; and odes paraphrased from Horace Part 4

SONNET x.x.x.

That song again!--its sounds my bosom thrill, Breathe of past years, to all their joys allied; And, as the notes thro' my sooth'd spirits glide, Dear Recollection's choicest sweets distill, Soft as the Morn's calm dew on yonder hill, When slants the Sun upon its gra.s.sy side, Tinging the brooks that many a mead divide With lines of gilded light; and blue, and still, The distant lake stands gleaming in the vale.

Sing, yet once more, that well-remember'd strain, Which oft made vocal every pa.s.sing gale In days long fled, in Pleasure's golden reign, The youth of chang'd HONORA!--now it wears Her air--her smile--_spells_ of the vanish'd years!

SONNET x.x.xI.

TO THE DEPARTING SPIRIT OF AN ALIENATED FRIEND.

O, EVER DEAR! thy precious, vital powers Sink rapidly!--the long and dreary Night Brings scarce an hope that Morn's returning light Shall dawn for THEE!--In such terrific hours, When yearning Fondness eagerly devours Each moment of protracted life, his flight The Rashly-Chosen of thy heart has ta'en Where dances, songs, and theatres invite.

EXPIRING SWEETNESS! with indignant pain I see him in the scenes where laughing glide Pleasure's light Forms;--see his eyes gaily glow, Regardless of thy life's fast ebbing tide; I hear him, who shou'd droop in silent woe, Declaim on Actors, and on Taste decide!

SONNET x.x.xII.

SUBJECT OF THE PRECEDING SONNET CONTINUED.

Behold him now his genuine colours wear, That specious False-One, by whose cruel wiles I lost thy amity; saw thy dear smiles Eclips'd; those smiles, that us'd my heart to cheer, Wak'd by thy grateful sense of many a year When rose thy youth, by Friends.h.i.+p's pleasing toils Cultur'd;--but DYING!--O! for ever fade The angry fires.--Each thought, that might upbraid Thy broken faith, which yet my soul deplores, Now as eternally is past and gone As are the interesting, the happy hours, Days, years, we shar'd together. They are flown!

Yet long must I lament thy hapless doom, Thy lavish'd life and early-hasten'd tomb.

SONNET x.x.xIII.

Last night her Form the hours of slumber bless'd Whose eyes illumin'd all my youthful years.-- Spirit of dreams, at thy command appears Each airy Shape, that visiting our rest, Dismays, perplexes, or delights the breast.

My pensive heart this kind indulgence cheers; Bliss, in no _waking_ moment now possess'd, Bliss, ask'd of thee with Memory's thrilling tears, Nightly I cry, how oft, alas! in vain, Give, by thy powers, that airy Shapes controul, HONORA to my visions!--ah! ordain Her beauteous lip may wear the smile that stole, In years long fled, the sting from every pain!

Show her sweet face, ah show it to my soul!

_June 1780._

SONNET x.x.xIV.

When Death, or adverse Fortune's ruthless gale, Tears our best hopes away, the wounded Heart Exhausted, leans on all that can impart The charm of Sympathy; her mutual wail How soothing! never can her warm tears fail To balm our bleeding grief's severest smart; Nor wholly vain _feign'd_ Pity's solemn art, Tho' we should penetrate her sable veil.

Concern, e'en known to be _a.s.sum'd_, our pains Respecting, kinder welcome far acquires Than cold Neglect, or Mirth that Grief profanes.

Thus each faint Glow-worm of the Night conspires, Gleaming along the moss'd and darken'd lanes, To cheer the Gloom with her unreal fires.

_June 1780._

SONNET x.x.xV.

SPRING.

In April's gilded morn when south winds blow, And gently shake the hawthorn's silver crown, Wafting its scent the forest-glade adown, The dewy shelter of the bounding Doe, _Then_, under trees, soft tufts of primrose show Their palely-yellowing flowers;--to the moist Sun Blue harebells peep, while cowslips stand unblown, Plighted to riper May;--and lavish flow The Lark's loud carols in the wilds of air.

O! not to Nature's glad Enthusiast cling Avarice, and pride.--Thro' her now blooming sphere Charm'd as he roves, his thoughts enraptur'd spring To HIM, who gives frail Man's appointed time These cheering hours of promise, and of prime.

_April 29th, 1782._

SONNET x.x.xVI.

SUMMER.

Now on hills, rocks, and streams, and vales, and plains, Full looks the s.h.i.+ning Day.--Our gardens wear The gorgeous robes of the consummate Year.

With laugh, and shout, and song, stout Maids and Swains Heap high the fragrant hay, as thro' rough lanes Rings the yet empty waggon.--See in air The pendent cherries, red with tempting stains, Gleam thro' their boughs.--Summer, thy bright career Must slacken soon in Autumn's milder sway; Then thy now heapt and jocund meads shall stand Smooth,--vacant,--silent,--thro' th' exulting Land As wave thy Rival's golden fields, and gay Her Reapers throng. She smiles, and binds the sheaves; Then bends her parting step o'er fall'n and rustling leaves.

_June 27th, 1782._

SONNET x.x.xVII.

AUTUMN.

Thro' changing Months a well-attemper'd Mind Welcomes their gentle or terrific pace.-- When o'er retreating Autumn's golden grace Tempestuous Winter spreads in every wind Naked asperity, our musings find Grandeur increasing, as the Glooms efface Variety and glow.--Each solemn trace Exalts the thoughts, from sensual joys refin'd.

Then blended in our rapt ideas rise The vanish'd charms, that summer-suns reveal, With all of desolation, that now lies Dreary before us;--teach the Soul to feel Awe in the Present, pleasure in the Past, And to see vernal Morns in Hope's perspective cast.

_October 27th, 1782._

SONNET x.x.xVIII.

WINTER.

If he whose bosom with no transport swells In vernal airs and hours commits the crime Of sullenness to Nature, 'gainst the Time, And its great RULER, he alike rebels Who seriousness and pious dread repels, And aweless gazes on the faded Clime, Dim in the gloom, and pale in the h.o.a.r rime That o'er the bleak and dreary prospect steals.-- Spring claims our tender, grateful, gay delight; Winter our sympathy and sacred fear; And sure the Hearts that pay not Pity's rite O'er wide calamity; that careless hear Creation's wail, neglect, amid her blight, THE SOLEMN LESSON OF THE RUIN'D YEAR.