Classic Poem

Fond the attempt—in measure meet to dress
The various features of thy various bliss!
To make thee now the gard'ner's garments wear;
Now follow slowly the laborious steer;
Now in Hesperian groves transported stray;
Now to the upland wind thy weary way:
An irksome task; yet tasteless were the wight
Who would refuse it, for so fine a sight;
Around in various perspective arise
Woods, rivers, mountains, cottages, and skies.

The choicest gifts to thee P OMONA yields,
And I NDIAN harvests whiten o'er thy fields;
Not richer crops by G ANGES ' sacred tide
Reap B RAMA 's sons, than grace the banks of C LYDE .

Nor be the labour of the as forgot,
Nor the least shrub that shades the charming spot;
Trees pil'd on trees defend the happy seat,
“It's summers shadow, and it's winter's heat.”

W HAT yet remains to make thee fully blest;
To still the cravings of a feeling breast?
The lovely consort, social, and serene,
Deep read in books, nor of her reading vain:
Yet not from books is choicest knowledge drawn,
Untutor'd thought oft more than learning can;
Nor yet on learning's tow'ring branches grow,
The fittest garland for a female brow;
M INERVA'S arts all other arts excel,
To net with grace, and ply the needle well;
With nicest care the filmy thread to draw;
Direct the maids, and give the dairy law;
See that clean hands the curdling liquid press,
And mould to various forms the churn's increase.
Yet ev'n these housewife arts, tho' great, were vain,
Did not good-nature follow in the train;
It follows!—Mark that brow unwreath'd with care;
None but the gentlest passions harbour there:
So kind her look, so temper'd with reserve,
We hope her love, yet wish most to deserve;
Ever the same, no forms can discompose,
The chaise's rattle, nor the brush of clothes;
With the same ease she welcomes ev'ry guest,
But still the worthiest is receiv'd the best.

F ORGIVE me, Madam! I confess 'tis wrong
To weave thy various worth in idle song;
To lessen graces that I mean to praise,
And sink the merit I attempt to raise;
For where's the doughty bard can numbers find,
To paint the fairest face and soundest mind?

L UCKLESS the wight, however great her charms,
Who takes a barren mistress to his arms!
Cold are the pleasures of the nuptial bed,
That never ask L UCINA 's friendly aid;
Tho' fortune should all other gifts bestow,
These very gifts would but increase his woe;
“What, shall a stranger reap these fertile fields?
“An alien gather what my garden yields?
“Some shabby cousin, scarcely known by name,
“Flaunt in my clothes, and propagate my shame!”
But happy he, who in his warm embrace
Clasps the fair mother of a lovely race;
His joys are ever growing, ever new—
And well I ween that happy man art THOU !

S EE , fondly playful, hanging by her side,
The father's darling, and the mother's pride,
Kind hearted H——, form'd for calmer life
Than the bar's bustle, or the soldier's strise;
For private friendships form'd, and virtuous love,
And all the native passions of the grove.

See B——, careless of her growing charms,
Hug pussy, purring peaceful in her arms;
Arms that, when some important years are run,
Shall bless some hero, or some hero's son.

A SIDE , in silent muse, see T——stands,
Doom'd from his birth to visit foreign lands;
A sturdy boy, undaunted, void of fear,
Dreading alike a faggot and a spear;
Frank as a soldier, honest as a tar,
Equally fitted for the sea or war.

W HAT , little M——! can be said of thee?
A stranger I to thee, and thou to me!
May H——'s virtues animate thy breast,
And then thy father must be fully blest.

T HUS I, enamour'd of my theme, pursue
A task my gratitude prescrib'd—not you:
Should any, too severe, deride my strains,
And think you poorly paid for all your pains;
Tell them, (perhaps they'll mind it while they live),
'Twas all a grateful, dying bard could give.