Part 91 (1/2)

_ON A BEE_ Having Stung the Thigh of an Old Maid.

On the annals of fame with Columbus you stand, Who sought the American sh.o.r.e; Advent'rous like him, you explore a new land, Where none ever travell'd before.

_EPIGRAM._

Women were born, so fate declares, To SMOOTH our linen and our cares; And 'tis but just, for, by my troth, They're very apt to RUFFLE both.

ODE TO POESY.

I.

Hail Poesy! celestial maid!

Who loves, reclin'd near purling stream, To rest beneath the beachen shade, ”Wrapt in some wild fantastic dream.”

Howe'er intent on other cares, Still deign to hear a suppliant's pray'rs!

Who fain would view thy ample store, And all thy secret haunts explore, Where, as enraptur'd bards have told, Whose eyes have peer'd thy stores among, Gnomes, sylphs, and sprites, their dwelling hold, Till call'd by thee to grace their song; Where fairies, clad in bright attire, Faint lighted by the glow-worm's fire, Are seen to gambol to the breeze, Which nightly plays amongst the trees; And while, with silent step, their round they pace, The flitting dew-drops gem the consecrated place.

II.

Or, if thou rather chuse to dwell Intent to hear the beating wave, In sparry grot, or rocky cell, Or in the subterraneous cave, Where to relieve perpetual night, Dim lamps emit a feeble light; While bound with necromantic tie, A thousand weeping virgins lie, Who, to enjoy the blaze of day, To view once more the azure sky, And drink the sun's all-cheering ray, Oft heave the unavailing sigh; Till some advent'rous knight shall dare (Long try'd in tournaments and war) a.s.say to break the magic chain, And give them liberty again; In ruin wide the self-built structure spread, And bid despondency erect her drooping head.

III.

Or, if those scenes delight thee more, Which erst thy Ariosto drew, O teach my muse like his to soar, And ope thy treasures to her view!

For all that captivates the mind, In his aspiring verse we find; Where, wrapt in fancy's pleasing guise Conceal'd, the useful moral lies; Where chivalry's proud hosts, array'd In all the dignity of war, Appear, a splendid cavalcade, Adorn'd with many a trophy'd car; Where fair Alcina's radiant charms, With lawless bliss the bosom warms, Till, in Atlanta's reverend form, Melissa abrogates the charm; Recals the soul, for n.o.bler deeds design'd, And writes the glowing moral on the mind.

IV.

If such thy votaries of old, Some portion of their fire impart; Then sportive fancy, uncontroll'd, Shall spurn the rigid rules of art:-- But if in vain thy suppliant plead, And if thy mandate has decreed These magic stores conceal'd must lie, Impervious to another's eye; Still, O celestial maid! display Those tranquil scenes where beauty reigns, And triumphs, with unrivall'd sway, O'er rising hills and flow'ry plains, And streams that, murm'ring as they flow, Might lure the mourner from his woe; Let pointed satire too be mine, Aided by Johnson's nervous line:-- And mine the pow'r to wake the tender sigh, And call the pearly tear from Pity's melting eye.

V.

Then lead me near some winding stream, Whose surface, ruffled by the breeze, Reflects chaste Dian's silver beam, Faintly beheld thro' shadowy trees: Then as I view, with joy serene, The beauties of this tranquil scene: If contrast aid the pow'rs of rhyme, To make the beautiful sublime-- Bid the hoa.r.s.e thunder loudly roar, And driving clouds invest the skies; While swelling torrents round me pour, From rugged rocks their fresh supplies; Which bursting on the plains below, The lightning's transient flashes shew, Unfolding to th' astonish'd sight A cataract of foaming light.-- Be scenes like these thy suppliant's award!

And give thine other stores to some more happy bard.

_BEAUTY._ A SONG.