Volume I Part 11 (1/2)
”Where were ye, NYMPHS! in those disasterous hours, Which wrap'd in flames AUGUSTA'S sinking towers?
415 Why did ye linger in your wells and groves, When sad WOODMASON mourn'd her infant loves?
When thy fair Daughters with unheeded screams, Ill-fated MOLESWORTH! call'd the loitering streams?-- The trembling Nymph on bloodless fingers hung 420 Eyes from the tottering wall the distant throng, With ceaseless shrieks her sleeping friends alarms, Drops with singed hair into her lover's arms.-- The illumin'd Mother seeks with footsteps fleet, Where hangs the safe balcony o'er the street, 425 Wrap'd in her sheet her youngest hope suspends, And panting lowers it to her tiptoe friends; Again she hurries on affection's wings, And now a third, and now a fourth, she brings; Safe all her babes, she smooths her horrent brow, 430 And bursts through bickering flames, unscorch'd, below.
So, by her Son arraign'd, with feet unshod O'er burning bars indignant Emma trod.
[Footnote: _Woodmason, Molesworth_. l. 416. The histories of these unfortunate families may be seen in the Annual Register, or in the Gentleman's Magazine.]
”E'en on the day when Youth with Beauty wed, The flames surprized them in their nuptial bed;-- 435 Seen at the opening sash with bosom bare, With wringing hands, and dark dishevel'd hair, The blus.h.i.+ng Beauty with disorder'd charms Round her fond lover winds her ivory arms; Beat, as they clasp, their throbbing hearts with fear, 440 And many a kiss is mix'd with many a tear;-- Ah me! in vain the labouring engines pour Round their pale limbs the ineffectual shower!-- --Then crash'd the floor, while shrinking crouds retire, And Love and Virtue sunk amid the fire!-- 445 With piercing screams afflicted strangers mourn, And their white ashes mingle in their urn.
XII. ”PELLUCID FORMS! whose crystal bosoms show The s.h.i.+ne of welfare, or the shade of woe; Who with soft lips salute returning Spring, 450 And hail the Zephyr quivering on his wing; Or watch, untired, the wintery clouds, and share With streaming eyes my vegetable care; Go, shove the dim mist from the mountain's brow, Chase the white fog, which floods the vale below; 455 Melt the thick snows, that linger on the lands, And catch the hailstones in your little hands; Guard the coy blossom from the pelting shower, And dash the rimy spangles from the bower; From each chill leaf the silvery drops repel, 460 And close the timorous floret's golden bell.
[_Shove the dim mist_. l. 453. See note on l. 20 of this Canto.]
[_Catch the hail-stones_. l. 456. See note on l. 15 of this Canto.]
[_From each chill leaf_. l. 459. The upper side of the leaf is the organ of vegetable respiration, as explained in the additional notes, No.
x.x.xVII, hence the leaf is liable to injury from much moisture on this surface, and is destroyed by being smeared with oil, in these respects resembling the lungs of animals or the spiracula of insects. To prevent these injuries some leaves repel the dew-drops from their upper surfaces as those of cabbages; other vegetables close the upper surfaces of their leaves together in the night or in wet weather, as the sensitive plant; others only hang their leaves downwards so as to shoot the wet from them, as kidney-beans, and many trees. See note on l. 18 of this Canto.]
[_Golden bell_. l. 460. There are muscles placed about the footstalks of the leaves or leaflets of many plants, for the purpose of closing their upper surfaces together, or of bending them down so as to shoot off the showers or dew-drops, as mentioned in the preceeding note. The claws of the petals or of the divisions of the calyx of many flowers are furnished in a similar manner with muscles, which are exerted to open or close the corol and calyx of the flower as in tragopogon, anemone. This action of opening and closing the leaves or flowers does not appear to be produced simply by _irritation_ on the muscles themselves, but by the connection of those muscles with a _sensitive_ sensorium or brain existing in each individual bud or flower. 1st. Because many flowers close from the defect of stimulus, not by the excess of it, as by darkness, which is the absence of the stimulus of light; or by cold, which is the absence of the stimulus of heat. Now the defect of heat, or the absence of food, or of drink, affects our _sensations_, which had been previously accustomed to a greater quant.i.ty of them; but a muscle cannot be said to be stimulated into action by a defect of stimulus. 2.
Because the muscles around the footstalks of the subdivisions of the leaves of the sensitive plant are exerted when any injury is offered to the other extremity of the leaf, and some of the stamens of the flowers of the cla.s.s Syngenesia contract themselves when others are irritated.
See note on Chondrilla, Vol. II. of this work.
From this circ.u.mstance the contraction of the muscles of vegetables seems to depend on a disagreeable _sensation_ in some distant part, and not on the _irritation_ of the muscles themselves. Thus when a particle of dust stimulates the ball of the eye, the eye-lids are instantly closed, and when too much light pains the retina, the muscles of the iris contract its aperture, and this not by any connection or consent of the nerves of those parts, but as an effort to prevent or to remove a disagreeable sensation, which evinces that vegetables are endued with sensation, or that each bud has a common sensorium, and is furnished with a brain or a central place where its nerves were connected.]
”So should young SYMPATHY, in female form, Climb the tall rock, spectatress of the storm; Life's sinking wrecks with secret sighs deplore, And bleed for others' woes, Herself on sh.o.r.e; 465 To friendless Virtue, gasping on the strand, Bare her warm heart, her virgin arms expand, Charm with kind looks, with tender accents cheer, And pour the sweet consolatory tear; Grief's cureless wounds with lenient balms a.s.swage, 470 Or prop with firmer staff the steps of Age; The lifted arm of mute Despair arrest, And s.n.a.t.c.h the dagger pointed to his breast; Or lull to slumber Envy's haggard mien, And rob her quiver'd shafts with hand unseen.
475 --Sound, NYMPHS OF HELICON! the trump of Fame, And teach Hibernian echoes JONES'S name; Bind round her polish'd brow the civic bay, And drag the fair Philanthropist to day.-- So from secluded springs, and secret caves, 480 Her Liffy pours his bright meandering waves, Cools the parch'd vale, the sultry mead divides, And towns and temples star his shadowy sides.
[_Jones's name_. l. 476. A young lady who devotes a great part of an ample fortune to well chosen acts of secret charity.]
XIII. ”CALL YOUR light legions, tread the swampy heath, Pierce with sharp spades the tremulous peat beneath; 485 With colters bright the rushy sward bisect, And in new veins the gus.h.i.+ng rills direct;-- So flowers shall rise in purple light array'd, And blossom'd orchards stretch their silver shade; Admiring glebes their amber ears unfold, 490 And Labour sleep amid the waving gold.
”Thus when young HERCULES with firm disdain Braved the soft smiles of Pleasure's harlot train; To valiant toils his forceful limbs a.s.sign'd, And gave to Virtue all his mighty mind, 495 Fierce ACHELOUS rush'd from mountain-caves, O'er sad Etolia pour'd his wasteful waves, O'er lowing vales and bleating pastures roll'd, Swept her red vineyards, and her glebes of gold, Mined all her towns, uptore her rooted woods, 500 And Famine danced upon the s.h.i.+ning floods.
The youthful Hero seized his curled crest, And dash'd with lifted club the watery Pest; With waving arm the billowy tumult quell'd, And to his course the bellowing Fiend repell'd.
[_Fierce Achelous_. l. 495. The river Achelous deluged Etolia, by one of its branches or arms, which in the antient languages are called horns, and produced famine throughout a great tract of country, this was represented in hieroglyphic emblems by the winding course of a serpent and the roaring of a bull with large horns. Hercules, or the emblem of strength, strangled the serpent, and tore off one horn from the bull; that is, he stopped and turned the course of one arm of the river, and restored plenty to the country. Whence the antient emblem of the horn of plenty. Dict. par M. Danet.]
505 ”Then to a Snake the finny Demon turn'd His lengthen'd form, with scales of silver burn'd; Lash'd with restless sweep his dragon-train, And shot meandering o'er the affrighted plain.
The Hero-G.o.d, with giant fingers clasp'd 510 Firm round his neck, the hissing monster grasp'd; With starting eyes, wide throat, and gaping teeth, Curl his redundant folds, and writhe in death.
”And now a Bull, amid the flying throng The grisly Demon foam'd, and roar'd along; 515 With silver hoofs the flowery meadows spurn'd, Roll'd his red eye, his threatening antlers turn'd.
Dragg'd down to earth, the Warrior's victor-hands Press'd his deep dewlap on the imprinted sands; Then with quick bound his bended knee he fix'd 520 High on his neck, the branching horns betwixt, Strain'd his strong arms, his sinewy shoulders bent, And from his curled brow the twisted terror rent.