Part 134 (1/2)

Like distant thunder, now the coach of state Rolls o'er the bridge, that groans beneath its weight.

The court hath crossed the stream; the sports begin; Now Noel preaches of rebellion's sin: And as the powers of his strong pathos rise, Lo, brazen tears fall from Sir Fletcher's eyes.

While skulking round the pews, that babe of grace, Who ne'er before at sermon showed his face, See Jemmy Twitcher shambles; stop! stop thief!

He's stolen the Earl of Denbigh's handkerchief, Let Barrington arrest him in mock fury, And Mansfield hang the knave without a jury.

But hark, the voice of battle shouts from far, The Jews and Maccaronis are at war: The Jews prevail, and, thundering from the stocks, They seize, they bind, they circ.u.mcise Charles Fox.

Fair Schwellenbergen smiles the sport to see, And all the maids of honour cry 'Te! He!'

Be these the rural pastimes that attend Great Brunswick's leisure: these shall best unbend His royal mind, whene'er from state withdrawn, He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn; These shall prolong his Asiatic dream, Though Europe's balance trembles on its beam.

And thou, Sir William! while thy plastic hand Creates each wonder which thy bard has planned, While, as thy art commands, obsequious rise Whate'er can please, or frighten, or surprise, Oh, let that bard his knight's protection claim, And share, like faithful Sancho, Quixote's fame.

JOHN LOWE.

The author of 'Mary's Dream' was born in 1750, at Kenmore, Galloway, and was the son of a gardener. He became a student of divinity, and acted as tutor in the family of a Mr McGhie of Airds. A daughter of Mr McGhie was attached to a gentleman named Miller, a surgeon at sea, and on the occasion of his death Lowe wrote his beautiful 'Mary's Dream,' the exquisite simplicity and music of the first stanza of which has often been admired. Lowe was betrothed to a sister of 'Mary,' but having emigrated to America, he married another, fell into dissipated habits, and died in a miserable plight at Fredericksburgh in 1798. He wrote many other pieces, but none equal to 'Mary's Dream.'

MARY'S DREAM.

1 The moon had climbed the highest hill Which rises o'er the source of Dee, And from the eastern summit shed Her silver light on tower and tree; When Mary laid her down to sleep, Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea, When, soft and low, a voice was heard, Saying, 'Mary, weep no more for me!'

2 She from her pillow gently raised Her head, to ask who there might be, And saw young Sandy s.h.i.+vering stand, With visage pale, and hollow ee.

'O Mary dear, cold is my clay; It lies beneath a stormy sea.

Far, far from thee I sleep in death; So, Mary, weep no more for me!

3 'Three stormy nights and stormy days We tossed upon the raging main; And long we strove our bark to save, But all our striving was in vain.

Even then, when horror chilled my blood, My heart was filled with love for thee: The storm is past, and I at rest; So, Mary, weep no more for me!

4 'O maiden dear, thyself prepare; We soon shall meet upon that sh.o.r.e, Where love is free from doubt and care, And thou and I shall part no more!'

Loud crowed the c.o.c.k, the shadow fled, No more of Sandy could she see; But soft the pa.s.sing spirit said, 'Sweet Mary, weep no more for me!'

JOSEPH WARTON.

This accomplished critic and poet was born in 1722. He was son to the Vicar of Basingstoke, and brother to Thomas Warton. (See a former volume for his life.) Joseph was educated at Winchester College, and became intimate there with William Collins. He wrote when quite young some poetry in the _Gentleman's Magazine_. He was in due time removed to Oriel College, where he composed two poems, ent.i.tled 'The Enthusiast,' and 'The Dying Indian.' In 1744, he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts at Oxford, and was ordained to his father's curacy at Basingstoke. He went thence to Chelsea, but did not remain there long, owing to some disagreement with his paris.h.i.+oners, and returned to Basingstoke. In 1746, he published a volume of Odes, and in the preface expressed his hope that it might be successful as an attempt to bring poetry back from the didactic and satirical taste of the age, to the truer channels of fancy and description.

The motive of this attempt was, however, more praiseworthy than its success was conspicuous.

In 1748, Warton was presented by the Duke of Bolton to the rectory of Winslade, and he straightway married a Miss Daman, to whom he had for some time been attached. In the same year he began, and in 1753 he finished and printed, an edition of Virgil in English and Latin. Of this large, elaborate work, Warton himself supplied only the life of Virgil, with three essays on pastoral, didactic, and epic poetry, and a poetical version of the Eclogues and the Georgics, more correct but less spirited than Dryden's. He adopted Pitt's version of the Aeneid, and his friends furnished some of the dissertations, notes, &c. Shortly after, he contributed twenty-four excellent papers, including some striking allegories, and some good criticisms on Shakspeare, to the _Adventurer_.

In 1754, he was appointed to the living of Tunworth, and the next year was elected second master of Winchester School. Soon after this he published anonymously 'An Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope,'

which, whether because he failed in convincing the public that his estimate of Pope was the correct one, or because he stood in awe of Warburton, he did not complete or reprint for twenty-six years. It is a somewhat gossiping book, but full of information and interest.

In May 1766, he was made head-master of Winchester. In 1768, he lost his wife, and next year married a Miss Nicholas of Winchester. In 1782, he was promoted, through Bishop Lowth, to a prebend's post in St Paul's, and to the living of Thorley, which he exchanged for that of Wickham. Other livings dropped in upon him, and in 1793 he resigned the masters.h.i.+p of Winchester, and went to reside at Wickham. Here he employed himself in preparing an edition of Pope, which he published in 1797. In 1800 he died.

Warton, like his brother, did good service in resisting the literary despotism of Pope, and in directing the attention of the public to the forgotten treasures of old English poetry. He was a man of extensive learning, a very fair and candid, as well as acute critic, and his 'Ode to Fancy' proves him to have possessed no ordinary genius.

ODE TO FANCY.

O parent of each lovely Muse, Thy spirit o'er my soul diffuse, O'er all my artless songs preside, My footsteps to thy temple guide, To offer at thy turf-built shrine, In golden cups no costly wine, No murdered fatling of the flock, But flowers and honey from the rock.