Classic Poem

ADDRESSED TO A GENTLEMAN OF LIBERAL CHARACTER .

In that dark season of the circling year,
When gath'ring skies and leafless groves appear,
When Nature trembles at the midnight storm,
And sees the howling wind her charms deform,
When all her treasure — all her boundless store,
Her rich luxuriant paintings are no more!
And dismal glooms shall shadow ev'ry place,
Where once she revell'd with superior grace;
In that dark season, mournful and forlorn,
Can Fancy then the dreary waste adorn? —
Ah, no! the treach'rous maid denies her art,
The desolated prospect chills the heart!
Or else to gayer scenes she quickly flies —
Magnificence and Pleasure charm her eyes!
And crowded streets, with dazzling torches shine
And ev'ry charm, oh London! that is thine! —
But Fancy, know, imperial as thou art,
A nobler pow'r than thine may reach the heart.
In wintry skies may gild the cheerless day,
And chase the intellectual gloom away;
May more than Pleasure, more than crowds press
Fair smiling Harmony and sweet Content. —
The social Joy, to splendid courts unknown,
Is thine, fair Hospitality, alone!
Thou canst irradiate, with thy soothing ray,
The roof which Art in vain might render gay.
— Hail! ever gracious, ever friendly pow'r!
Parent and Guardian of the social hour;
Long mayst thou here thy gentle part sustain,
And gen'rous M ARTIUS shall extend thy reign! —
'Tis his, with grace peculiar, to impart
The glowing fervour of a bounteous heart;
'Tis his, that heartfelt pleasure to inspire,
So vainly oft we seek, yet still admire;
'Tis his, the dignity to pride unknown,
That precious Wit, Goodnature's self may own:
But Nature claims the gentle triumph here, —
The wit that's genuine needs not be severe!
Long mayst thou, M ARTIUS , long, serenely blest,
With gratitude inspire the worthy guest;
Long mayst thou live, and ev'ry care forgot,
With her, the soft companion of thy lot;
With her, whose mild complacency and ease,
Might steal the heart of Envy by degrees;
Whose native excellence seems half supprest,
Whilst humble diffidence wou'd hide the rest.
Fain wou'd the Muse, in glowing verse declare;
All that is beauteous, amiable and fair:
Oh! cou'd her feeble lays but match their choice
Then might she charm the ear, like Emma voice;
That voice, Oh sweet M ELISSA , join'd we thine,
Might tempt ev'n Science from its mystic shrine
And teach the sullen misanthrope to know,
That Harmony, indeed, exists below.
— Come not, oh Envy! to a scene like this!
Go, haunt the mansions of ideal bliss —
Where Vanity erects her sumptuous court,
Where Falsehood triumphs, — and where Folk resort;
Fly to the realms of Pageantry and Art,
Where courtly smiles may veil an anxious heart
Not such the place, where kindred minds unite,
The mild domestic picture of Delight!
It needs no borrow'd gleams, by Fashion given,
But shines by Truth's pure light — the Light of Heaven!