Classic Poem

WITH THE PRAISE OF PEACE AND RETIREMENT.

Happy, thou Flandria! on whose fertile plains
In wanton pride luxurious Plenty reigns;
Happy had Heav'n bestow'd one blessing more,
And plac'd thee distant from the Gallic power:
But now in vain thy lawns attract the view,
They but invite the victor to subdue;
War, horrid War! the sylvan scene invades,
And angry trumpets pierce the woodland shades.
Here shatter'd tow'rs, proud works of many an age,
Lie dreadful monuments of human rage;
There palaces and hallow'd domes display
Majestic ruins awful in decay!
The very dust, tho' undistinguish'd trod,
Compos'd perhaps some hero great and good,
Who nobly for his country lost his blood.
Ev'n with the grave, the haughty spoilers war,
And Death's dark mansions wide disclose to air;
O'er kings and saints insulting stalk, nor dread
To spurn the ashes of the glorious dead.
See the Britannic Lions wave in air!
See mighty Marlb'rough breathing death and war!
From Albion's shores at Anna's high commands
The dauntless hero pours his martial bands;
As when in wrath stern Mars the Thund'rer sends
To scourge his foes, in pomp the god descends,
He mounts his iron car, with fury burns,
The car fierce-rattling thunders as it turns;
Gloomy he grasps his adamantine shield,
Ad scatters armies o'er th' ensanguin'd field:
With delegated wrath thus Marlb'rough glows,
In vengeance rushing on his country's foes.
See round the hostile tow'rs embattled stands
His banner'd host, embody'd bands by bands!
Hark! the shrill trumpet sends a mortal sound,
And prancing horses shake the solid ground;
The surly drums beat terrible afar
With all the dreadful music of the war:
From the drawn swords effulgent flames arise,
Flash o'er the plains, and lighten to the skies;
The heaven's above, the fields and floods beneath,
Glare formidably bright, and shine with death;
In fiery storms descends a murd'rous show'r,
Thick flash the lightnings, fierce the thunders roar:
As when in wrathful mood Almighty Jove
Aims his dire bolts red-hissing from above,
Thro' the sing'd air with unresisted sway
The forky vengeance rends its flaming way,
And while the firmament with thunder roars,
From their foundations hurls imperial tow'rs;
So rush the globes with many a fiery round,
Tear up the rock, or rend the stedfast mound;
Death shakes aloft her dart, and o'er her prey
Stalks with dire joy, and marks in blood her way;
Mountains of heroes slain deform the ground,
The shape of man half bury'd in the wound.
And lo! while in the shock of war they close,
While swords meet swords and foes encounter foes,
The treach'rous earth beneath their footsteps cleaves,
Her entrails tremble, and her bosom heaves;
Sudden in bursts of fire eruptions rise,
And whirl the torn battalions to the skies.
Thus earthquakes, rumbling with a thund'ring sound,
Shake the firm world, and rend the cleaving ground;
Rocks, hills, and groves, are tost into the sky,
And in one mighty ruin nations die.
See, thro' th' incumber'd air the pond'rous bomb
Bears magazines of death within its womb!
The glowing orb displays a blazing train,
And darts bright horror thro' th' ethereal plain;
It mounts tempestuous, and with hideous sound
Wheels down the heavens, and thunders o'er the ground!
Th' imprison'd deaths rush dreadful in a blaze,
And mow a thousand lives a thousand ways;
Earth floats with blood, while spreading flames arise
From palaces and domes, and kindle half the skies.
Thus terribly in air the comets roll,
And shoot malignant gleams from pole to pole:
'Tween worlds and worlds they move, and from their hair
Shake the blue plague, the pestilence, and war.
But who is he who stern bestrides the plain,
Who drives triumphant o'er huge hills of slain,
Serene, while engines from the hostile tow'r
Rain from their brazen mouths an iron show'r,
While turbid fiery smoke obicures the day,
Hews thro' the deathful breach his desp'rate way?
Sure Jove descending joins the martial toil!
Or is it Marlb'rough or the great Argyle?
Thus when the Grecians, furious to destroy,
Levell'd the structures of imperial Troy,
Here angry Neptune hurl'd his vengeful mace,
There Jove o'erturn'd it from its inmost base;
Tho' brave, yet vanquish'd, she confess'd the odds:
Her sons were heroes, but they fought with gods.
Ah! what new horrors rise? in deep array
The squadrons form; aloft the standards play;
The captains draw the sword; on ev'ry brow
Determin'd Valour lours; the trumpets blow.
See! the brave Briton delves the cavern'd ground
Thro' the hard entrails of the stubborn mound,
And, undismay'd by death, the foe invades
Thro' dreadful horrors of infernal shades!
In vain the wall's broad base deep-rooted lies;
In vain an hundred turrets threat the skies!
Lo! while at ease the bands immur'd repose,
Nor careless dream of subterranean foes,
Like the Cadmaean host, embattled swarms
Start from the earth, and clash their sounding arms,
And, pouring war and slaughter from beneath,
Wrap tow'rs, walls, men, in fire, in blood, in death!
So some fam'd torrent dives within the caves
Of op'ning earth, ingulf'd with all his waves:
High o'er the latent stream the shepherd feeds
His wand'ring flock, and tunes the sprightly reeds,
Till from some rifted chasm the billows rise,
And foaming burst tumultuous to the skies;
Then roaring dreadful o'er the delug'd plain,
Sweep herds and hinds in thunder to the main.
Bear me, ye friendly Pow'rs! to gentler scenes,
To shady bow'rs and never-fading-greens,
Where the shrill trumpet never sounds alarms,
Nor martial din is heard nor clash of arms.
Hail, ye soft seats! ye limpid springs and floods!
Ye flow'ry meads! ye vales! and mazy woods!
Ye limpid floods! that ever murm'ring flow,
Ye verdant meads! where flow'rs eternal blow,
Ye shady vales! where zephyrs ever play,
Ye woods! where little warblers tune their lay.
Here grant me, Heav'n! to end my peaceful days,
And steal myself from life by slow decays;
Draw health from food the temp'rate garden yields,
From fruit or herb, the bounty of the fields;
Nor let the loaded table groan beneath
Slain animals, the horrid feast of death:
With age unknown to pain or sorrow blest,
To the dark grave retiring as to rest;
While gently with one sigh this mortal frame
Dissolving, turns to ashes, whence it came;
While my freed soul departs without a groan,
And joyful wings her flight to worlds unknown.
Ye gloomy grots! ye awful solemn cells!
Where holy thoughtful Contemplation dwells,
Guard me from splendid cares and tiresome state,
That pompous misery of being great!
Happy if by the wise and learn'd belov'd,
But happiest above all if self-approv'd!
Content with ease, ambitious to despise
Illustrious vanity and glorious vice!
Come thou, chaste Maid! here ever let me stray,
While the calm hours steal unperceiv'd away;
Here court the Muses, while the sun on high
Flames in the vault of heaven, and fires the sky;
Or while the night's dark wings this globe surround,
And the pale moon begins her solemn round,
Bid my free soul to starry orbs repair,
Those radiant worlds that float in ambient air,
And with a regular confusion stray
Oblique, direct, along th' aerial way;
Or when Aurora from her golden bow'rs
Exhales the fragrance of the balmy flow'rs,
Reclin'd in silence on a mossy bed
Consult the learned volumes of the dead;
Fall'n realms and empires in description view,
Live o'er past times, and build whole worlds anew;
Or from the bursting tombs in fancy raise
The sons of Fame, who liv'd in ancient days.
And lo! with haughty stalk the warrior treads!
Stern legislators frowning lift their heads!
I see proud victors in triumphal cars,
Chiefs, kings, and heroes, seam'd with glorious scars!
Or listen till the raptur'd soul takes wings,
While Plato reasons, or while Homer sings.
Charm me, ye Sacred Leaves! with loftier themes,
With op'ning heavens, and angels rob'd in flames:
Ye restless passions! while I read be aw'd:
Hail, ye mysterious oracles of God!
Here I behold how infant Time began,
How the dust mov'd and quicken'd into man;
Here thro' the flow'ry walks of Eden rove,
Court the soft breeze, or range the spicy grove;
There tread on hallow'd ground where angels trod,
And rev'rend patriarchs talk'd as friends with God;
Or hear the voice to slumb'ring prophets giv'n,
Or gaze on visions from the throne of heaven.
But nobler yet, far nobler scenes advance!
Why leap the mountains? why the forests dance?
Why flashes glory from the golden ipheres?
Rejoice, O Earth! a God! a God appears!
A God! a God! descending angels sing,
And mighty seraphs shout, Behold your King!
Hail, virgin-born! Lift, lift ye blind! your eyes;
Sing, O ye dumb! and, O ye dead! arise;
Tremble, ye gates of hell! in noblest strains
Tell it aloud, ye heav'ns! the Saviour reigns!
Thus lonely thoughtful may I run the race
Of transient life in no unuseful ease!
Enjoy each hour, nor, as it fleets away,
Think life too short, and yet too long the day;
Of right observant, while the soul attends
Each duty, and makes heaven and angels friends.
And thou, fair Peace! from the wild floods of war
Come dove-like, and thy blooming olive bear.
Tell me, ye victors! what strange charms ye find
In conquest, that destruction of mankind?
Unenvy'd may your laurels ever grow,
That never flourish but in human woe,
If never earth the wreath triumphal bears,
Till drench'd in heroes' blood or orphan's tears!
Let Ganges from afar to slaughter train
His sable warriors on th' embattled plain;
Let Volga's sons in iron squadrons rise,
And pour in millions from her frozen skies;
Thou, gentle Thames! flow thou in peaceful streams;
Bid thy bold sons restrain their martial flames:
In thy own laurels' shade, great Marlb'rough! stay,
There charm the thoughts of conquer'd worlds away.
Guardian of England! born to lcourge her foes,
Speak, and thy word gives half the world repose:
Sink down ye hills! eternal rocks subside!
Vanish, ye forts! thou, Ocean! drain thy tide;
We safety boast, desended by thy fame,
And armies — in the terror of thy name!
Now fix o'er Anna's throne thy victor blade;
War, be thou chain'd! ye streams of blood, be stay'd!
Tho' wild Ambition her just vengeance feels,
She wars to save, and where she strikes she heals.
So Pallas with her javelin imote the ground,
And peaceful olives flourish from the wound.