Classic Poem

I.

What art thou, Life! whose stay we court?
What is thy rival Death, we fear?
Since we're but fickle Fortune's sport,
Why should we wish t'inhabit here,
And think the race we find so rough too short?

II.

While in the womb we forming lie,
While yet the lamp of life displays
A doubtful dawn with feeble rays,
New issuing from Non-entity,
The shell of flesh pollutes with sin
Its gem, the soul, just enter'd in,
And, by transmitted vice defil'd,
The fiend commences with the child.

III.

In this dark region future fates are bred,
And mines of secret ruin laid.
Hot fevers here long kindling lie,
Prepar'd with flaming whips to rage,
And lash on ling'ring destiny,
Whene'er excess has fir'd our riper age.
Here brood, in infancy, the gout and stone,
Fruits of our fathers' follies, not our own.

As angels love, congenial souls unite
Their radiance, and refine each other's light.
The florid and sublime, the grave and gay,
From Waller's beams imbibe a purer ray;
Illumin'd, thence in equal lays to bound
Their copious sense, and harmonize the sound;
With varied notes the curious ear to please,
And turn a nervous thought with artful case.
Maker and model of melodious verse!
Accept these votive honours at thy hearse:
While I with filial awe attempt thy praise,
Insuse thy genius, and my fancy raise!
So, warbling o'er his urn, the woodland choirs
To Orpheus pay the song his shade inspires.
In Waller's fame, O fairest Harley! view
What verdant palms shall owe their birth to you:
To you what deathless charms are thence decreed,
In Sacharissa's sate vouchsafe to read.
Secure beneath the wing of with'ring Time
Her beauties flourish in ambrosial prime;
Still kindling rapture, see! she moves in state,
Gods, nymphs, and heroes, on her triumph wait.
Nor think the lover's praise of love's delight
In purest minds may stain the virgin white:
How bright and chaste the poet and his theme!
So Cynthia shines on Arethusa's stream.
A sainted virtue to the spheres may sing
Those strains that ravish'd here the martyr-king.
Plenteous of native wit, in letter'd ease,
Politely sorm'd: to profit and to please
To same whate'er was due he gave to fame,
And what he could not praise forgot to name:
Thus Eden's rose, without a thorn, display'd
Her bloom, and in a fragrant blush decay'd.
Such soul-attracting airs were sung of old,
When blissful years in golden circles roll'd:
Pure from deceit, devoid of fear and strife,
While love was all the pensive care of life,
The swains in green retreats, with flow'rets crown'd,
Taught the young groves their passion to resound:
Fancy pursu'd the paths where Beauty led,
To please the living or deplore the dead:
While to their warbled woe the rocks reply'd,
The rills remurmur'd, and the zephyrs sigh'd,
From death redeem'd by verse, the vanish'd fair
Breath'd in a flow'r, or sparkled in a star.
Bright as the stars, and sragrant as the flow'rs
Where Spring resides in soft Elysian bow'rs,
While these the how'rs adorn, and they the sphere,
Will Sacharissa's charms in soug appear.
Yet in the present age her radiant name
Must take a dimmer interval of same;
When you to full meridian lustre rise,
With Morton's shape and Gloriana's eyes,
With Carlisle's wit, her gesture, and her mien,
And, like seraphic Rich, with zeal serene;
In sweet assemblage all their graces join'd
To language, mode, and manners more refin'd!
That angel-frame, with chaste attraction gay,
Mild as the dove-ey'd Morn awakes the May,
Of noblest youths will reign the public care,
Their joy, their wish, their wonder, and despair.
Far-beaming thence what bright ideas flow!
The sister-arts with sudden rapture glow;
Her Titian tints the painter-nymph resumes,
The canvass warm with roseate beauty blooms:
Inspir'd with life by Sculpture's happy toil,
The marble breathes, and softens with your smile;
Proud to receive the form by Fate design'd
The fairest model of the fairer kind.
But hear, O hear, the Muse's heav'nly voice!
The waving woods and echoing vales rejoice:
Attend, ye Gales! to Margaretra's praise;
And all ye list'ning Loves record the lays!
So Philomela charms th' Idalian grove,
When Venus, in the glowing orb of Love,
O'er ocean, earth, and air, extends her reign,
The first, the brightest, of the starry train.
What fav'rite youth assign the Fates to rise
In bridal pomp to lead the blooming prize?
Whether his father's garter'd shield sustains
Trophies achiev'd on Gallia's viny plains,
Or smiling Peace a mingled wreath displays,
The patriot's olive and the poet's bays,
Adorn, ye Fates! the fav'rite youth assign'd
With each ennobling grace of form and mind:
In merit make him great, as great in blood;
Great, without pride, and amiably good;
His breast the guardian ark of heav'n-born law,
To strike a faithless age with conscious awe:
In choice of friends by manly reason sway'd;
Not fear'd, but honour'd, and with love obey'd:
In courts and camps, in council and retreat
Wise, brave, and studious to support the state:
With candour firm; without ambition bold;
No deed discolour'd with the guilt of gold;
That Heav'n may judge the choicest blessings due,
And give the various good compris'd in you.