Classic Poem

Ev'n now I MAGINATION'S forceful sway
Thro' each long landscape hurries me away,
The well known cliff, whose blue aerial brow
Majestic beetles on the vale below,
The daisy'd pasture, whose luxuriant plain
The dim discover'd flocks, a snowy train!
Profusely deck; and dripping from the tide,
Shake to the flashing sun their fleecy pride,
Unmov'd I view:—nay, the train hedge along
I hearken to the ploughboy's matin song,
Or follow on the crumbling path afar
The lazy passage of the creaking Car.

Hark! from yon hill that centers in the cloud,
I hear the opening hound, and hunter loud,
His bugle winds thro' many a tuneful maze,
The mellow tones my sinking spirit raise,
And down the virid steep, with headlong speed
Impell'd, I mount a visionary steed!
Now, sooth'd again, with slow, and skillful eye,
Eager, I watch my friend's fictitious fly,
By some lone bank, along whose level side,
Dimpling, and quick the lucid waters glide;
His pensile bait the speckled trout beguiles,
At length he's caught, at length the angler smiles,
At length, with cautious and well-guided hand,
He trails the glittering captive on the sand.
Oh! sweet repast, when for the wish'd embrace,
Two cherub-rivals his mild visage trace,
Climb on his knee, surround his easy chair,
And hope, elate, the shining spoil to share,
Meanwhile, with looks of meek, paternal love,
He seems with gentle pushes, to reprove,
Yet, as they struggle, tenderly severe,
Drops on each baby-cheek a silent tear.

Say what ye will, ye Sons of classic art,
Whose finewrought fancies seldom reach the heart,
Ev'n in life's humblest, most contracted span
We mark the nobler principles of man,
The watch-dog beaten from the wicker'd door,
To give an easy entrance to the poor;
The busy care by tenderness made light,
To strew the pilgrim's rushy bed at night;
Or round the glimmering hearth, with wonder pale.
And simple awe, to note the soldier's tale;
These sweet civilities, these social ties,
In which the very spring of nature lies,
Are of more worth than all the glossing rhyme,
Your Schoolmen polish'd from remotest time.
Eternal Nature ! thine the mighty pow'r
To rule o'er every sense in every hour,
The mastery thine with absolute controul,
To ring, correct, or sublimate the soul;
Confest to thy superior eye is seen
The mazy movements of the nice machine,
Thy secret influence, thy sovereign call,
Commands them when to rise and where to fall;
And in the S ULTAN'S and the N EGRO'S frame
Thy rapid force is general and the same.