THROUGH airy roads he wings his instant flight

To purer regions of celestial light;

Enlarg'd he sees unnumber'd systems roll,

Beneath him sees the universal whole,

Planets on planets run their destin'd round,

And circling wonders fill the vast profound.

Th' ethereal now, and now th' empyreal skies

With growing splendors strike his wond'ring eyes:

The angels view him with delight unknown,

Press his soft hand, and seat him on his throne;

Then smilling thus: "To this divine abode,

"The seat of saints, of seraphs, and of God,

"Thrice welcome thou." The raptur'd babe replies,

"Thanks to my God, who snatch'd me to the skies,

"E'er vice triumphant had possess'd my heart,

"E'er yet the tempter had beguil d my heart,

"E'er yet on sin's base actions I was bent,

"E'er yet I knew temptation's dire intent;

"E'er yet the lash for horrid crimes I felt,

"E'er vanity had led my way to guilt,

"But, soon arriv'd at my celestial goal,

"Full glories rush on my expanding soul."

Joyful he spoke: exulting cherubs round

Clapt their glad wings, the heav'nly vaults resound.

Say, parents, why this unavailing moan?

Why heave your pensive bosoms with the groan?

To Charles, the happy subject of my song,

A brighter world, and nobler strains belong.

Say would you tear him from the realms above

By thoughtless wishes, and prepost'rous love?

Doth his felicity increase your pain?

Or could you welcome to this world again

The heir of bliss? with a superior air

Methinks he answers with a smile severe,

"Thrones and dominions cannot tempt me there."

But still you cry, "Can we the sigh forbear,

"And still and still must we not pour the tear?

"Our only hope, more dear than vital breath,

"Twelve moons revolv'd, becomes the prey of death;

"Delightful infant, nightly visions give

"Thee to our arms, and we with joy receive,

"We fain would clasp the Phantom to our breast,

"The Phantom flies, and leaves the soul unblest."

To yon bright regions let your faith ascend,

Prepare to join your dearest infant friend

In pleasures without measure, without end.

To Captain H-----D, of the 65th Regiment.

SAY, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight

The warrior's bosom in the fields of fight?

Lo! here the christian and the hero join

With mutual grace to form the man divine.

In H-----D see with pleasure and surprise,

Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies:

Go, hero brave, still grace the post of fame,

And add new glories to thine honour'd name,

Still to the field, and still to virtue true:

Britannia glories in no son like you.

To the Right Honourable WILLIAM, Earl

of DARTMOUTH, His Majesty's Principal

Secretary of State for North-America, &c.

HAIL, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,

Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:

The northern clime beneath her genial ray,

Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway:

Elate with hope her race no longer mourns,

Each soul expands, each grateful bosom burns,

While in thine hand with pleasure we behold

The silken reins, and Freedom's charms unfold.

Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies

She shines supreme, while hated faction dies:

Soon as appear'd the Goddess long desir'd,

Sick at the view, she languish'd and expir'd;

Thus from the splendors of the morning light

The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.

No more, America, in mournful strain

Of wrongs, and grievance unredress'd complain,

No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,

Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand

Had made, and with it meant t' enslave the land.

Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,

Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,

Whence flow these wishes for the common good,

By feeling hearts alone best understood,

I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate

Was snatch'd from Afric's fancy'd happy seat:

What pangs excruciating must molest,

What sorrows labour in my parent's breast?

Steel'd was that soul and by no misery mov'd

That from a father seiz'd his babe belov'd:

Such, such my case. And can I then but pray

Others may never feel tyrannic sway?

For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,

And thee we ask thy favours to renew,

Since in thy pow'r, as in thy will before,

To sooth the griefs, which thou did'st once deplore.

May heav'nly grace the sacred sanction give

To all thy works, and thou for ever live

Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,

Though praise immortal crowns the patriot's name,

But to conduct to heav'ns refulgent fane,

May fiery coursers sweep th' ethereal plain,

And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,

Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.

O D E T O N E P T U N E.

On Mrs. W-----'s Voyage to England.

I.

WHILE raging tempests shake the shore,

While AElus' thunders round us roar,

And sweep impetuous o'er the plain

Be still, O tyrant of the main;

Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray,

While my Susanna skims the wat'ry way.

II.

The Pow'r propitious hears the lay,

The blue-ey'd daughters of the sea

With sweeter cadence glide along,

And Thames responsive joins the song.

Pleas'd with their notes Sol sheds benign his ray,

And double radiance decks the face of day.

III.

To court thee to Britannia's arms

Serene the climes and mild the sky,

Her region boasts unnumber'd charms,

Thy welcome smiles in ev'ry eye.

Thy promise, Neptune keep, record my pray'r,

Not give my wishes to the empty air.

Boston, October 12, 1772.

To a LADY on her coming to North-America

with her Son, for the Recovery of her Health.

INDULGENT muse! my grov'ling mind inspire,

And fill my bosom with celestial fire.

See from Jamaica's fervid shore she moves,

Like the fair mother of the blooming loves,

When from above the Goddess with her hand

Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land;

Thus she on Neptune's wat'ry realm reclin'd

Appear'd, and thus invites the ling'ring wind.

"Arise, ye winds, America explore,

"Waft me, ye gales, from this malignant shore;

"The Northern milder climes I long to greet,

"There hope that health will my arrival meet."

Soon as she spoke in my ideal view

The winds assented, and the vessel flew.

Madam, your spouse bereft of wife and son,

In the grove's dark recesses pours his moan;

Each branch, wide-spreading to the ambient sky,

Forgets its verdure, and submits to die.

From thence I turn, and leave the sultry plain,

And swift pursue thy passage o'er the main:

The ship arrives before the fav'ring wind,

And makes the Philadelphian port assign'd,

Thence I attend you to Bostonia's arms,

Where gen'rous friendship ev'ry bosom warms:

Thrice welcome here! may health revive again,

Bloom on thy cheek, and bound in ev'ry vein!

Then back return to gladden ev'ry heart,

And give your spouse his soul's far dearer part,

Receiv'd again with what a sweet surprise,

The tear in transport starting from his eyes!

While his attendant son with blooming grace

Springs to his father's ever dear embrace.

With shouts of joy Jamaica's rocks resound,

With shouts of joy the country rings around.

To a LADY on her remarkable Preservation

in an Hurricane in North-Carolina.

THOUGH thou did'st hear the tempest from afar,

And felt'st the horrors of the wat'ry war,

To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore

Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,

And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand

Compell'd the Nereids to usurp the land.

Reluctant rose the daughters of the main,

And slow ascending glided o'er the plain,

Till AEolus in his rapid chariot drove

In gloomy grandeur from the vault above:

Furious he comes. His winged sons obey

Their frantic sire, and madden all the sea.

The billows rave, the wind's fierce tyrant roars,

And with his thund'ring terrors shakes the shores:

Broken by waves the vessel's frame is rent,

And strows with planks the wat'ry element.

But thee, Maria, a kind Nereid's shield

Preserv'd from sinking, and thy form upheld:

And sure some heav'nly oracle design'd

At that dread crisis to instruct thy mind

Things of eternal consequence to weigh,

And to thine heart just feelings to convey

Of things above, and of the future doom,

And what the births of the dread world to come.

From tossing seas I welcome thee to land.

"Resign her, Nereid," 'twas thy God's command.

Thy spouse late buried, as thy fears conceiv'd,

Again returns, thy fears are all reliev'd:

Thy daughter blooming with superior grace

Again thou see'st, again thine arms embrace;

O come, and joyful show thy spouse his heir,

And what the blessings of maternal care!

To a LADY and her Children, on the Death

of her Son and their Brother.

O'ERWHELMING sorrow now demands my song:

From death the overwhelming sorrow sprung.

What flowing tears? What hearts with grief opprest?

What sighs on sighs heave the fond parent's breast?

The brother weeps, the hapless sisters join

Th' increasing woe, and swell the crystal brine;

The poor, who once his gen'rous bounty fed,

Droop, and bewail their benefactor dead.

In death the friend, the kind companion lies,

And in one death what various comfort dies!

Th' unhappy mother sees the sanguine rill

Forget to flow, and nature's wheels stand still,

But see from earth his spirit far remov'd,

And know no grief recals your best-belov'd:

He, upon pinions swifter than the wind,

Has left mortality's sad scenes behind

For joys to this terrestial state unknown,

And glories richer than the monarch's crown.

Of virtue's steady course the prize behold!

What blissful wonders to his mind unfold!

But of celestial joys I sing in vain:

Attempt not, muse, the too advent'rous strain.

No more in briny show'rs, ye friends around,

Or bathe his clay, or waste them on the ground:

Still do you weep, still wish for his return?

How cruel thus to wish, and thus to mourn?

No more for him the streams of sorrow pour,

But haste to join him on the heav'nly shore,

On harps of gold to tune immortal lays,

And to your God immortal anthems raise.

To a GENTLEMAN and LADY on the Death

of the Lady's Brother and Sister, and a

Child of the Name of Avis, aged one Year.

ON Death's domain intent I fix my eyes,

Where human nature in vast ruin lies:

With pensive mind I search the drear abode,

Where the great conqu'ror has his spoils bestow'd;

There where the offspring of six thousand years

In endless numbers to my view appears:

Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are thrust,

And nations mix with their primeval dust:

Insatiate still he gluts the ample tomb;

His is the present, his the age to come.

See here a brother, here a sister spread,

And a sweet daughter mingled with the dead.

But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside,

And let the fountain of your tears be dry'd,

In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain,

Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain,

Your pains they witness, but they can no more,

While Death reigns tyrant o'er this mortal shore.

The glowing stars and silver queen of light

At last must perish in the gloom of night:

Resign thy friends to that Almighty hand,

Which gave them life, and bow to his command;

Thine Avis give without a murm'ring heart,

Though half thy soul be fated to depart.

To shining guards consign thine infant care

To waft triumphant through the seas of air:

Her soul enlarg'd to heav'nly pleasure springs,

She feeds on truth and uncreated things.

Methinks I hear her in the realms above,

And leaning forward with a filial love,

Invite you there to share immortal bliss

Unknown, untasted in a state like this.

With tow'ring hopes, and growing grace arise,

And seek beatitude beyond the skies.

On the Death of Dr. SAMUEL MARSHALL. 1771.

THROUGH thickest glooms look back, immortal shade,

On that confusion which thy death has made:

Or from Olympus' height look down, and see

A Town involv'd in grief bereft of thee.

Thy Lucy sees thee mingle with the dead,

And rends the graceful tresses from her head,

Wild in her woe, with grief unknown opprest

Sigh follows sigh deep heaving from her breast.

Too quickly fled, ah! whither art thou gone?

Ah! lost for ever to thy wife and son!

The hapless child, thine only hope and heir,

Clings round his mother's neck, and weeps his sorrows there.

The loss of thee on Tyler's soul returns,

And Boston for her dear physician mourns.

When sickness call'd for Marshall's healing hand,

With what compassion did his soul expand?

In him we found the father and the friend:

In life how lov'd! how honour'd in his end!

And must not then our AEsculapius stay

To bring his ling'ring infant into day?

The babe unborn in the dark womb is tost,

And seems in anguish for its father lost.

Gone is Apollo from his house of earth,

But leaves the sweet memorials of his worth:

The common parent, whom we all deplore,

From yonder world unseen must come no more,

Yet 'midst our woes immortal hopes attend

The spouse, the sire, the universal friend.

To a GENTLEMAN on his Voyage to Great-Britain

for the Recovery of his Health.

WHILE others chant of gay Elysian scenes,

Of balmy zephyrs, and of flow'ry plains,

My song more happy speaks a greater name,

Feels higher motives and a nobler flame.

For thee, O R-----, the muse attunes her strings,

And mounts sublime above inferior things.

I sing not now of green embow'ring woods,

I sing not now the daughters of the floods,

I sing not of the storms o'er ocean driv'n,

And how they howl'd along the waste of heav'n.

But I to R----- would paint the British shore,

And vast Atlantic, not untry'd before:

Thy life impair'd commands thee to arise,

Leave these bleak regions and inclement skies,

Where chilling winds return the winter past,

And nature shudders at the furious blast.

O thou stupendous, earth-enclosing main

Exert thy wonders to the world again!

If ere thy pow'r prolong'd the fleeting breath,

Turn'd back the shafts, and mock'd the gates of death,

If ere thine air dispens'd an healing pow'r,

Or snatch'd the victim from the fatal hour,

This equal case demands thine equal care,

And equal wonders may this patient share.

But unavailing, frantic is the dream

To hope thine aid without the aid of him

Who gave thee birth and taught thee where to flow,

And in thy waves his various blessings show.

May R----- return to view his native shore

Replete with vigour not his own before,

Then shall we see with pleasure and surprise,

And own thy work, great Ruler of the skies!

To the Rev. DR. THOMAS AMORY, on

reading his Sermons on DAILY DEVOTION,

in which that Duty is recommended and

assisted.

TO cultivate in ev'ry noble mind

Habitual grace, and sentiments refin'd,

Thus while you strive to mend the human heart,

Thus while the heav'nly precepts you impart,

O may each bosom catch the sacred fire,

And youthful minds to Virtue's throne aspire!

When God's eternal ways you set in sight,

And Virtue shines in all her native light,

In vain would Vice her works in night conceal,

For Wisdom's eye pervades the sable veil.

Artists may paint the sun's effulgent rays,

But Amory's pen the brighter God displays:

While his great works in Amory's pages shine,

And while he proves his essence all divine,

The Atheist sure no more can boast aloud

Of chance, or nature, and exclude the God;

As if the clay without the potter's aid

Should rise in various forms, and shapes self-made,

Or worlds above with orb o'er orb profound

Self-mov'd could run the everlasting round.

It cannot be--unerring Wisdom guides

With eye propitious, and o'er all presides.

Still prosper, Amory! still may'st thou receive

The warmest blessings which a muse can give,

And when this transitory state is o'er,

When kingdoms fall, and fleeting Fame's no more,

May Amory triumph in immortal fame,

A nobler title, and superior name!

On the Death of J. C. an Infant.

NO more the flow'ry scenes of pleasure rife,

Nor charming prospects greet the mental eyes,

No more with joy we view that lovely face

Smiling, disportive, flush'd with ev'ry grace.

The tear of sorrow flows from ev'ry eye,

Groans answer groans, and sighs to sighs reply;

What sudden pangs shot thro' each aching heart,

When, Death, thy messenger dispatch'd his dart?

Thy dread attendants, all-destroying Pow'r,

Hurried the infant to his mortal hour.

Could'st thou unpitying close those radiant eyes?

Or fail'd his artless beauties to surprise?

Could not his innocence thy stroke controul,

Thy purpose shake, and soften all thy soul?

The blooming babe, with shades of Death o'er-spread,

No more shall smile, no more shall raise its head,

But, like a branch that from the tree is torn,

Falls prostrate, wither'd, languid, and forlorn.

"Where flies my James?" 'tis thus I seem to hear

The parent ask, "Some angel tell me where

"He wings his passage thro' the yielding air?"

Methinks a cherub bending from the skies

Observes the question, and serene replies,

"In heav'ns high palaces your babe appears:

"Prepare to meet him, and dismiss your tears."

Shall not th' intelligence your grief restrain,

And turn the mournful to the cheerful strain?

Cease your complaints, suspend each rising sigh,

Cease to accuse the Ruler of the sky.

Parents, no more indulge the falling tear:

Let Faith to heav'n's refulgent domes repair,

There see your infant, like a seraph glow:

What charms celestial in his numbers flow

Melodious, while the foul-enchanting strain

Dwells on his tongue, and fills th' ethereal plain?

Enough--for ever cease your murm'ring breath;

Not as a foe, but friend converse with Death,

Since to the port of happiness unknown

He brought that treasure which you call your own.

The gift of heav'n intrusted to your hand

Cheerful resign at the divine command:

Not at your bar must sov'reign Wisdom stand.

An H Y M N to H U M A N I T Y.

To S. P. G. Esq;

I.

LO! for this dark terrestrial ball

Forsakes his azure-paved hall

A prince of heav'nly birth!

Divine Humanity behold,

What wonders rise, what charms unfold

At his descent to earth!

II.

The bosoms of the great and good

With wonder and delight he view'd,

And fix'd his empire there:

Him, close compressing to his breast,

The sire of gods and men address'd,

"My son, my heav'nly fair!

III.

"Descend to earth, there place thy throne;

"To succour man's afflicted son

"Each human heart inspire:

"To act in bounties unconfin'd

"Enlarge the close contracted mind,

"And fill it with thy fire."

IV.

Quick as the word, with swift career

He wings his course from star to star,

And leaves the bright abode.

The Virtue did his charms impart;

Their G-----! then thy raptur'd heart

Perceiv'd the rushing God:

V.

For when thy pitying eye did see

The languid muse in low degree,

Then, then at thy desire

Descended the celestial nine;

O'er me methought they deign'd to shine,

And deign'd to string my lyre.

VI.

Can Afric's muse forgetful prove?

Or can such friendship fail to move

A tender human heart?

Immortal Friendship laurel-crown'd

The smiling Graces all surround

With ev'ry heav'nly Art.

To the Honourable T. H. Esq; on the Death

of his Daughter.

WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade

The hand of Death, and your dear daughter laid

In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow,

And racks your bosom with incessant woe,

Let Recollection take a tender part,

Assuage the raging tortures of your heart,

Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief,

And pour the heav'nly nectar of relief:

Suspend the sigh, dear Sir, and check the groan,

Divinely bright your daughter's Virtues shone:

How free from scornful pride her gentle mind,

Which ne'er its aid to indigence declin'd!

Expanding free, it sought the means to prove

Unfailing charity, unbounded love!

She unreluctant flies to see no more

Her dear-lov'd parents on earth's dusky shore:

Impatient heav'n's resplendent goal to gain,

She with swift progress cuts the azure plain,

Where grief subsides, where changes are no more,

And life's tumultuous billows cease to roar;

She leaves her earthly mansion for the skies,

Where new creations feast her wond'ring eyes.

To heav'n's high mandate cheerfully resign'd

She mounts, and leaves the rolling globe behind;

She, who late wish'd that Leonard might return,

Has ceas'd to languish, and forgot to mourn;

To the same high empyreal mansions come,

She joins her spouse, and smiles upon the tomb:

And thus I hear her from the realms above:

"Lo! this the kingdom of celestial love!

"Could ye, fond parents, see our present bliss,

"How soon would you each sigh, each fear dismiss?

"Amidst unutter'd pleasures whilst I play

"In the fair sunshine of celestial day,

"As far as grief affects an happy soul

"So far doth grief my better mind controul,

"To see on earth my aged parents mourn,

"And secret wish for T-----! to return:

"Let brighter scenes your ev'ning-hours employ:

"Converse with heav'n, and taste the promis'd joy"

NIOBE in Distress for her Children slain by

APOLLO, from Ovid's Metamorphoses,

Book VI. and from a view of the Painting

of Mr. Richard Wilson.

Poems on various subjects, religious and moral · 第 2 / 3 段