The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) Volume IV Part 16

----Along the sh.o.r.e He walk'd one evening, when the clam'rous rage Of tempests wreck'd a s.h.i.+p: The crew were sunk, The master only reach'd the neighb'ring strand, Born by a floating fragment; but so weak With combating the storm, his tongue had lost The faculty of speech, and yet for aid He faintly wav'd his hand, on which he wore A fatal jewel. Sameas, quickly charm'd Both by its size, and l.u.s.tre, with a look Of pity stoop'd, to take him by the hand; Then cut the finger off to gain the ring, And plung'd him back to perish in the waves; Crying, go dive for more.--I've heard him boast Of this adventure.

In the 5th act, when Herod is agitated with the rage of jealousy, his brother Pheroras thus addresses him,

Sir, let her crime Erase the faithful characters which love Imprinted on your heart,

HEROD. Alas! the pain We feel, whene'er we dispossess the soul Of that tormenting tyrant, far exceeds The rigour of his rule.

PHERORAS. With reason quell That haughty pa.s.sion; treat it as your slave: Resume the monarch.

The observation, which Herod makes upon this, is very affecting. The poet has drawn him so tortured with his pa.s.sion, that he seems almost sufficiently punished, for the barbarity of cutting off the father and brother of Mariamne,

HEROD. Where's the monarch now?

The vulgar call us G.o.ds, and fondly think That kings are cast in more than mortal molds; Alas! they little know that when the mind Is cloy'd with pomp, our taste is pall'd to joy; But grows more sensible of grief or pain.

The stupid peasant with as quick a sense Enjoys the fragrance of a rose, as I; And his rough hand is proof against the thorn, Which rankling in my tender skin, would seem A viper's tooth. Oh blissful poverty!

Nature, too partial! to thy lot a.s.signs Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace, Her real goods; and only mocks the great With empty pageantries! Had I been born A cottager, my homely bowl had flow'd Secure from pois'nous drugs; but not my wife!

Let me, good heav'n! forget that guilty name, Or madness will ensue.

Some critics have blamed Mariamne, for yielding her affections to Herod, who had embrued his hands in her father and brother's blood; in this perhaps she cannot be easily defended, but the poet had a right to represent this as he literally found it in history; and being the circ.u.mstance upon which all the others depended. Tho' this play is one of the most beautiful in our language, yet it is in many places exposed to just criticism; but as it has more beauties than faults, it would be a kind of violence to candour to shew the blemishes.

The life of Fenton, like other poets who have never been engaged in public business, being barren of incidents, we have dwelt the longer on his works, a tribute which his genius naturally demanded from us.

Mr. Fenton's other poetical works were published in one volume 1717, and consist chiefly of the following pieces.

An Ode to the Sun, for the new year 1707, as a specimen of which we shall quote the three following stanza's.

I.

Begin celestial source of light, To gild the new revolving sphere; And from the pregnant womb of night; Urge on to birth the infant year.

Rich with auspicious l.u.s.tre rife, Thou fairest regent of the skies, Conspicuous with thy silver bow!

To thee, a G.o.d, 'twas given by Jove To rule the radiant orbs above, To Gloriana this below.

II.

With joy renew thy destin'd race, And let the mighty months begin: Let no ill omen cloud thy face, Thro' all thy circle smile serene.

While the stern ministers of fate Watchful o'er the pale Lutetia wait.

To grieve the Gaul's perfidious head; The hours, thy offspring heav'nly fair, Their whitest wings should ever wear, And gentle joys on Albion shed.

III.

When Ilia bore the future fates of Rome, And the long honours of her race began, Thus, to prepare the graceful age to come, They from thy stores in happy order ran.

Heroes elected to the list of fame, Fix'd the sure columns of her rising state: Till the loud triumphs of the Julian name Render'd the glories of her reign compleat, Each year advanc'd a rival to the rest, In comely spoils of war, and great achievements drest.

Florelio, a Pastoral, lamenting the death of the marquis of Blandford.

Part of the fourteenth chapter of Isaiah Paraphrased. Verses on the Union.

Cupid and Hymen.

Olivia, a small Poem of humour against a Prude.

The fair Nun, a Tale.

An Epistle addressed to Mr. Southern, written in the year 1711.

The eleventh Book of Homer's Odyssey, translated in Milton's stile.

The Widow's Will; a Tale.

A-La-Mode, a very humorous representation of a fond, doating Husband, injured by his Wife.

Sappho to Phaon. A Love Epistle, translated from Ovid.

Phaon to Sappho.

A Tale devised in the pleasant manner of Chaucer; in which the Poet imitates that venerable old Bard, in the obsolete Language of his Verse.

Verses addressed to Mr. Pope.

The Platonic Spell.

Marullus de Neaera.

Marullus imitated.

Joannis Secundi Basium I.

Kisses. Translated from Secundus. I know not if all poetry ever exceeded the smoothness and delicacy of those lines. They flow with an irresistable enchantment, and as the inserting them will shew the spirit both of the original and translation, we shall make no further apology for doing it.

When Venus, in the sweet Idalian shade, A violet couch for young Ascanius made; Their op'ning gems, th' obedient roses bow'd And veil'd his beauties with a damask cloud: While the bright G.o.ddess with a gentle show'r, Of nectar'd dews, perfum'd the blissful bow'r; Of sight insatiate, she devours his charms.

Till her soft breast re-kindling ardour warms: New joys tumultuous in her bosom rowl, And all Adonis rusheth on her soul.

Transported with each dear resembling grace, She cries, Adonis!--Sure I see thy face!

Then stoops to clasp the beauteous form, but fears He'd wake too soon, and with a sigh forbears; Yet, fix'd in silent rapture, stands to gaze, Kissing each flow'ring bud that round him plays.

Swell'd with the touch, each animated rose Expands; and strait with warmer purple glows: Where infant kisses bloom, a balmy store!

Redoubling all the bliss she felt before.

Sudden, her swans career along the skies, And o'er the globe the fair celestial flies.

Then, as where Ceres pa.s.s'd, the teeming plain, Yellow'd with wavy crops of golden grain; So fruitful kisses fell where Venus flew; And by the power of genial magic grew: A plenteous harvest! which she deign'd t'impart To sooth an agonizing love-sick heart.

All hail, ye Roseat kisses! who remove Our cares, and cool the calenture of love.

Lo! I your poet in melodious lays, Bless your kind pow'r; enamour'd of your praise: Lays! form'd to last, 'till barb'rous time invades The muses hill, and withers all their shades.

Sprung from the Guardian[B] of the Roman name, In Roman numbers live secure of fame.

Joannis Secundi Basum IId. translated.

An Epistle to Thomas Lambard Esq;

An Ode to the right hon. John lord Gower.

An EPITAPH

On Mr. ELIJAH FENTON,