Classic Poem

What Samson embrac'd, when revenge for his eyes,
Provok'd the huge Warrior to tumbledown legions,
What oft, thro' the night, from some ruin'd church cries,
Harsh-voic'd as a native of Pluto's pale regions;

The Female whose folly all mankind impeach,
That e'er she was form'd to embitter enjoyment,
The little emphatical main-spring of Speech,
Whose pleasure is toil, and whose ease is employment;

Pick out the initials of each of their names,
Add his who destroy'd, and then bow'd down to Witches;
Which done, a known title your notice then claims,
Of a parcel of poor, insignificant wretches.

Hail, beauteous grounds! where Nature reigns the queen,
And Art, her modest handmaid, serves unseen!
Escap'd from Pride's clipt shades and carv'd alcove
Mine eyes, refresh'd, dwell on the shapes they love.
The friends of Nature here delighted trace
All her encourag'd world of blooming grace!
With sweet consent, t' enrich the blest retreat,
Here all her amiable forms are met!
No tyrant law, in these elysian plains,
Her inclination to be fair restrains:
Prisons her waters, and curtails her trees,
And robs her easy works of all their ease.
For trim parterre, and ranks of marshal'd flowers,
Long, uninflected paths, and formal bowers,
Landscapes, that earth's spontaneous smiles appear,
That look as careless, tho' effects of care,
Include whate'er luxurious eyes require,
And rich completion of delight inspire!
The ground, whose outline playful Fancy drew,
With pleasing change of surface charms the view:
Now heaves in hills, in valleys now descends,
Now in the mead's expanded plain extends.
The woods, which no obdurate steel bereaves,
Swell on the eye with all their wealth of leaves;
In whose wide realm of shadows, while we shun
The dazzling regions of the summer's sun,
(Save that some slender lines of golden light
Pierce through the porous screen, and speck the night)
The walk that sweetly rambles, pleas'd, we find,
And our green way, with blissful error, wind:
The sinuous paths, by Beauty taught to twine,
Curl all along their undulating line:
The alley's leafy walls, a wavy veil,
From the pleas'd sight the coming scene conceal;
Each rounded turn renews the sweet surprise,
And a fresh bowery view delights the eyes!

The unforc'd water, licens'd here to stray,
Pursues its native, roving, downward way:
Now, in the river, rolls an ample tide,
And wreaths, thro' sunny meads, its azure pride:
Now, in cool streamlets, all retir'd it roams,
And lends its flowing grace to sylvan glooms;
In gentle lapse through the deep umbrage led,
Along a sweetly rude and craggy bed,
Whose rugged stones, objected to the tide,
With tuneful interruption break its glide;
While oft, to vary its wild-tinkling song,
Down a rough stair the current drops along,
And sooths the ear, amid the silent shades,
With lulling warblings of minute cascades:
Now, all impetuous rushing from on high,
Sublime, it strikes th' astonish'd ear and eye:
In foaming cadence, and with thund'ring sound,
The liquid ruin tumbles to the ground!

Fair Novelty exhausts her needful power,
To stay the wings of Pleasure's fleeting hour;
Repair, with fresh supply, the joys of sight,
And keep from languishing the long delight
Onward we wander with unwearied eyes,
And hail successive pictures as they rise!
Sweet objects, made by union yet more sweet,
In each harmonious composition meet:
While each fair landscape, from its happy place
In the just series, draws a fairer grace;
Contrast to every charm fresh magic gives,
And beauty, beauty pleasingly relieves.
Here, the rich, brilliant scene allures the view,
That asks of morning beams each sprightlier hue;
Where living imagery constant moves
'Mid the still loveliness of plains and groves;
Gracing the piece, the village-path appears,
Unceasing trod by rustie passengers;
The peasant, chanting many an airy song,
His humble beast of burden guides along;
The flock and herd the plodding keeper drives,
And all around the glowing landscape lives!
Now, to a different view our steps repair,
And hail the form of calmer Beauty there;
That wooes the sun, slow lapsing from his height,
To clothe her placid scene in gentler light;
Delicious quietude here sooths the breast,
Of power to lull e'en troubled souls to rest;
Here pensive Revery would choose her seat,
When she would all the excluded world forget,
Stunn'd by its noise, to this still region steal,
And all the luxury of silence feel!

Rival of Arcady! where'er we range,
Thy sweets enchant us in an endless change!
By thee, e'en Clifden's bower, and Hagley's pride,
And Shenstone's simpler shades, are all outvied!
Whate'er of rapture Eden's self could give,
From thy rich scenes the gladden'd eyes receive!

One only image, 'mid the beauteous groves,
Transport's wild burst opposes and reproves;
Dims with a sudden dew the sparkling eye,
And asks from Ecstasy herself a sigh!
There sleeps he, Nature! ah, for ever lost!
Of all mankind who lov'd thine image most!
Where all thy fairest features charm our eyes,
To thine assembled beauties blind he lies!
Alone in death, who lov'd to live alone,
See where sequester'd stands the hermit-stone!
As his shy ashes sought mankind to fly,
Recluse in shades, the lonely relics lie.
Oh social solitary! warm to embrace,
And swift to shun, our dear, but dreaded, race!
Amid the kind you lov'd averse to live,
Of all the world the friend and fugitive!
Accept this sigh from one thy page hath charm'd,
With various power, illumin'd, melted, warm'd!
But, ah! the mood thy memory inspires,
Other than this exulting scene requires:
Not now the time, (till then the drops shall stay,)
Due to thy moving tomb, the tears to pay:
While gaudy day his flaring lustre flings;
While to the sun the shouting landscape sings;
And Nature, all ornate, and dress'd in noon,
Forgets thy grave, and laughs around the stone.
This pride of flow'rs that decks the festive ground;
This plumy revelry that warbles round;
This insect-joy on painted wings that plays,
Flirting and glittering in the splendid blaze;
Of all that lives this sportful jubilee,
Ill meets the sigh that fain would swell o'er thee.
Let me attend, oh lov'd, lamented shade!
Till the bright colours of the landscape fade:
Then, when the joyous glare of wanton day,
Unsocial with my sorrow, dies away;
When these gay plains a graver aspect wear,
And the condoling scene my gloom shall share;
When solemn shades correct these gladsome meads,
O'er this vast wood when ebon darkness spreads,
And its high theatre of double night
The moon behind surmounts with milky light;
When her soft rays the mournful isle illume,
Thro' the dark trees appears the snow-white tomb,
On the calm grave the tranquil beams repose,
And the smooth lake the placid silver shows;
When thus the sombrous radiance, meekly bright,
Suits the mild picture to the sad delight;
When mute is every beast, and every bird,
Nor voice of man, nor sound of aught is heard;
But all things lull'd in sympathetic sleep,
Still as thy dust, congenial silence keep;
With musing Sorrow's pensive mood accord,
Revere the sacred grief, nor speak a word:
Thus sooth'd and aided by the associate scene,
Consenting all without, with all within;
Then full of thee, sweet sage! shall softly rise,
Sole breath that stirs, my lengthen'd stream of sighs;
Down o'er my cheek, uncheck'd, the dews shall flow,
Of undisturb'd, undissipated woe;
My debt of tender thought be amply paid,
And with full sorrows satisfied thy shade!