A loud Hofanna fent from all thy works,
Which he that hears it with a fhout repeats,
And adds his rapture to the gen'ral praise.
In that bleft moment, Nature, throwing wide
Her veil opake, difclofes with a smile
The Author of her beauties, who, retir'd
Behind his own creation, works unfeen
By the impure, and hears his pow'r denied.
Form'd for his ufe, and ready at his will?
Go, drefs thine eyes with eye-falve; ask of him,
Or afk of whom foever he has taught,
And learn, tho' late, the genuine caufe of all.
§ 136. Rural Sounds as well as Sights delightful.
Thou art the fource and centre of all minds,NOR rural fights alone, but rural founds
Their only point of reft, Eternal Word!
From thee departing, they are loft, and rove
At random, without honour, hope, or peace.
From thee is all that fooths the life of man,
His high endeavour, and his glad fuccefs,
His ftrength to fuffer, and his will to serve.
But, O! thou bounteous Giver of all good,
Thou art of all thy gifts thyfelf the crown!
Give what thou canft, without thee we are poor;
And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away.
$135. That Philosophy which flops at Secondary
Caufes reproved. CowPER.
HAPPY the man who fees a God employ'd
In all the good and ill that chequer life!
Refolving all events, with their effects
And manifold refults, into the will
And arbitration wife of the Supreme.
Did not his eye rule all things, and intend
The leaft of our concerns (fince from the leaft
The greateft oft originate); could chance
Find place in his dominion, or difpofe
One lawless particle to thwart his plan;
Then God might be furpris'd, and unforeseen
Contingence might alarm him, and disturb
The fmooth and equal courfe of his affairs,
This truth, philofophy, though eagle-eyed
In nature's tendencies, oft overlooks;
And, having found, his inftrument, forgets
Or difregards, or, more prefumptuous ftill,
Denies the pow'r that wields it. God proclaims
His hot difpleasure against foolish men
That live an atheist lite; involves the heaven
In tempefts; quits his grafp upon the winds,
And gives them all their fury; bids a plague
Kindle a fiery bile upon the skin,
And putrefy the breath of blooming health.
He calls for famine; and the meagre fiend
Blows mildew from between his thrivell'd lips.
And taints the golden ear: he fprings his mines,
And defolates a nation at a blatt.
Forth iteps the fpruce philofopher, and tells
Of homogeneal and difcordant fprings
And principles; of caufes, how they work
By neceflary laws their fure effects,
Of action and re-action. He has found
The fource of the difeale that Nature feels,
And bids the world take heart and banish fear.
Thou fool! will thy difcovery of the cause
Sufpend the effect, or heal it? Has not God
Still wrought by means fince firft he made the
And did he not of old employ his means [world?
To drown it? What is his creation lefs
Than a capacious reservoir of means
Exhilarate the spirit, and restore
The tone of languid Nature. Mighty winds,
That fweep the skirt of fome far-fpreading wood
Of ancient growth, make mufic not unlike
The dafh of ocean on his winding fhore,
And lull the fpirit while they fill the mind,
Unnumber'd branches waving in the blaft,
And all their leaves faft flutt'ring all at once.
Nor lefs compofure waits upon the roar
|Of distant floods, or on the softer voice
Of neighb'ring fountain, or of rills that flip
Through the cleft rock, and chiming as they fall
Upon loofe pebbles, lofe themselves at length
In matted grafs, that with a livelier green
Betrays the fecret of their filent course.
Nature inanimate employs fweet founds,
But animated nature fweeter still,
To footh and fatisfy the human ear.
Ten thoufand warblers cheer the day, and one
The live-long night: nor thefe alone, whose
Nice-finger'd art muft emulate in vain, [notes
But cawing rooks, and kites, that swim fublime
In ftill repeated circles, fcreaming loud,
The jaye, the pye, and ev'n the boding owl
That hails the riting moon, have charms for me.
Sounds inharmonious in themselves and harsh,
Yet, heard in fcenes where peace for ever reigns,
And only there, pleafe highly for their fake.
$137. The Wearifomeness of what is commonly
COWPER.
called a Life of Pleasure.
HE fpleen is feldom felt where Flora reigns;
The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown,
And fullen fadnefs, that o'erfhade, distort
And mar the face of beauty, when no caufe
For fuch immeasurable woe appears;
Thefe Flora banithes, and gives the fair
Sweet fmiles and bloom, lefs tranfient than her
It is the conftant revolution, ftale
And taftelefs, of the fame repeated joys,
That palls and fatiates, and makes languid life
A pedlar's pack, that bows the hearer down.
Health fuffers, and the fpirits ebb; the heart
Recoils from its own choice-at the full feast
Is famith'd---finds no mufic in the fong,
No fmartness in the jeft, and wonders why.
Yet thoufands till defire to journey on,
Though halt, and weary of the path they tread.
The paralytic, who can hold her cards,
But cannot play them, borrows a friend's hand
To deal and shuffle, to divide and fort
Her mingled fuits and fequences, and fits,
Spectatrefs both and spectacle, a fad
And filent cypher, while her proxy plays.
Others are dragg'd into the crowded room
Between fupporters; and, once feated, fit,
Through downright inability to rife,
Till the ftout bearers lift the corpfe again,
These speak a loud memento. Yet even these
Themfelves love life, and cling to it; as he
That overhangs a torrent, to a twig.
They love it, and yet luath it; fear to die,
Yet fcorn the purposes for which they live.
Then wherefore not renounce them! No-the
dread,
With what intent I touch the holy thing).--
The Pulpit (when the fat'rift has at laft,
Strutting and vap'ring in an empty school,
Spent all his force and made no profelyte)---
I say the Pulpit (in the sober use
Of its legitimate peculiar pow'rs)
Muft fland acknowledg'd, while the world fhall
The most important and effectual guard,
Support and ornament of virtue's caufe.
There ftands the meffenger of truth; there ftands
The legate of the fkies: his theme divine,
His office facred, his credentials clear.
By him the violated law fpeaks out
Its thunders; and by him, in strains as sweet
been As angels ufe, the Gofpel whispers peace.
[long He ftablishes the ftrong, reftores the weak,
Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart,
And, arm'd himself in panoply complete,
Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms
Bright as his own; and trains, by ev'ry rule
Of holy difcipline, to glorious war,
The facramental hoft of God's elect.
The flavish dread of folitude, that breeds
Reflection and remorte, the fear of fhame,
And their invet'rate habits-all forbid.
Whom call we gay? That honour has
The boaft of mere pretenders to the name.
The innocent are gay-the lark is gay,
That dries his feathers, faturate with dew,
Beneath the rofy cloud, while yet the beams
Of day-fpring overfhoot his humble neft.
The pealant too, a witness of his fong,
Himfelf a fongfter, is as gay as he.
But fave me from the gaiety of those
Whose head-achs nail them to a noon-day bed;
And fave me too from theirs whofe haggard eyes]
Flash desperation, and betray their pangs
For property ftript off by cruel chance;
From gaiety that fills the bones with pain,
The mouth with blafphemy, the heart with woc.
§ 138. Satirical Review of our Trips to France.
Now
[ow hoift the fail, and let the streamers float
Upon
the wanton breezes. Strew the deck
With lavender, and fprinkle liquid fweets,
That no rude favour maritime invade
The nose of nice nobility. Breathe foft
Ye clarionets, and fofter ftill ye flutes,
That winds and waters, lull'd by magic founds,
May bear us fmoothly to the Gallic thore.
True, we have loft an empire-let it pafs.
True, we may thank the perfidy of France,
That pick'd the jewel out of England's crown,
With all the cunning of an envious fhrew:
And let that pass-'twas but a trick of state.
A brave man knows no malice, but at once
Forgets, in peace, the injuries of war,
And gives his diftreft foe a friend's embrace.
140. The Petit-Maitre Clergyman. CowPEL
VENERATE the man whofe heart is warm,
Whofe hands are pure, whofe doctrine and
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
[whole life
To fuch I render more than mere reipect,
That he is honeft in the facred cause.
But, loofe in morals, and in manners vain,
Whofe actions fay that they refpect themselves,
Extreme, at once rapacious and profufe;
In converfation frivolous, in dress
Frequent in park, with lady at his fide,
Ambling and prattling fcandal as he goes;
But rare at home, and never at his books,
Or with his pen, fave when he fcrawls a card;
Of ladyfhip's, a stranger to the poor;
Conftant at routs, familiar with a round
Ambitious of preferment, for its gold,
And well prepar'd by ignorance and floth,
To make God's work a finecure: a flave-
By infidelity and love o' th' world
To his own pleasures, and his patron's pride-
From fuch apoftles, O ye mitred heads,
Preferve the church! and lay not careless hands
On fculls that cannot teach, and will not learn,
And, fham'd as we have been, to the very beard § 141. Armine and Elvira, a Legendary Tale.
Brav'd and defied, and in our own fea prov'd
Too weak for thofe decifive blows that once
Infur'd us maft'ry there, we yet retain
Some small pre-eminence: we justly boast
At least fuperior jockeyfhip, and claim
The honours of the turf as all our own.
Go then, well worthy of the praise ye seek,
And fhew the thame ye might conceal, at home,
In foreign eyes!-be grooms, and win the plate.
Where once your nobler fathers won a crown!
$139. The Pulpit the Engine of Reformation.
COWPER. "HE Pulpit therefore (and I name it, fill'd With folemn awe, that bids me well beware
AHERMIT on the banks of Trent,
Far from the world's bewildering maze,
To humbler fcenes of calm content
Had fied, from brighter, bufier days.
If haply from his guarded breaft
And Memory, an unbidden gueft,
Should fteal the unfufpected figh;
With former paffions fill'd his eye:
Then pious hope and duty prais'd
The wisdom of th' unerring fway;
And while his eye to heaven he rais'd,
Its filent waters funk away.
's gayer enfigns once he boreh! what avails the mournful tale? ce it, when the scene was o'er, filed to the fequefter'd vale.
at tho' the joys I lov'd fo well, The charms," he cry'd, "that youth has "known,
from the hermit's lonely cell! Yet is not Armine ftill my own?
s, Armine, yes, thou valued youth! Midft every grief thou ftill art mine! ar pledge of Winifreda's truth, And folace of my life's decline.
o' from the world and worldly care My wearied mind I mean to free, tev'ry hour that heaven can spare, ly Armine, I devote to thee.
d fure that heaven my hopes fhall blefs, And make thee fam'd for virtues fair, d happy too, if happiness Depend upon a parent's pray'r:
t hope of life's departing day,
In whom its future fcenes I fee!
truant thought fhall ever ftray
From this lone hermitage and thee.”
s, to his humble fate refign'd,
s breaft each anxious care foregoes;
ut the care of Armine's mind,
e dearest task a parent knows!
well were all his cares repaid;
Armine's breaft each virtue grew,
Il maturity difplay'd
> fond Affection's anxious view.
yet neglected were the charms
o polish'd life that grace impart:
ie, he knew, but feebly warms
ill fcience humanize the heart.
, when he faw the lawless train paffions in the youthful breaft, arb'd them not with rigid rein, t ftrove to footh them into rest. ink not, my fon, in this," he cry'd, A father's precept shall displease; -be each paffion gratify'd That tends to happiness or eafe. rfhall th' ungrateful task be mine Their native gen'rous warmth to blame, at warmth if reafon's fuffrage join To point the object and the aim.
is fuffrage wanting, know, fond boy, That every paifion proves a foc: o much it deal in promis'd joy, It pays, alas! in certain woe.
mplete Ambition's wildeft fcheme; In Power's most brilliant robes appear; dulge in Fortune's golden dreim; Then afk thy breaft if Peace be there. >: it shall tell thee, Peace retires If once of her lov'd friends depriv'd;
"Contentment calm, fubdu'd defires,
"And happiness that's felf-deriv'd."
To temper thus the ftronger fires
Of youth he strove; for well he knew,
Boundless as thought tho' man's defires,
The real wants of life were few.
And oft revolving in his breaft
Th' infatiate luit of wealth or fame,
He, with no common care opprest,
To fortune thus would oft exclaim: "O Fortune! at thy crowded fhrine "What wretched worlds of fuppliants bow! "For ever hail'd thy power divine,
"For ever breath'd the ferious vow. "With tottering pace and feeble knee,
"See age advance in thameless hafte, "The paify'd hand is ftretch'd to thee
"For wealth he wants the power to taste: "See, led by Hope, the youthful train,
"Her fairy dreams their hearts have won; "She points to what they ne'er fhall gain, "Or dearly gain-to be undone. "Muft I too form the votive prayer,
"And wilt thou hear one fuppliant more? "His prayer, O Fortune! deign to hear, "To thee who never pray'd before.
66
"O may one dear, one favour'd youth, May Armine ftill thy power difclaim; "Kneel only at the fhrine of truth,
"Count freedom wealth, and virtue fame!" Lo! to his utmost wishes bleft,
The prayer was heard; and freedom's flame, And truth the funfhine of the breaft,
Were Armine's wealth, were Armine's fame.
His heart no felfish cares confin'd,
He felt for all that feel diftrefs; And, ftill benevolent and kind,
He blefs'd them, or he wish'd to bless. For what tho' Fortune's frown deny
With wealth to bid the fufferer live, Yet Pity's hand can oft fupply
A balm the never knew to give: Can oft with lenient drops affuage
The wounds no ruder hand can heal, When grief, defpair, dittraction, rage,
While Death the lips of love fhall feal. Ah then, his anguish to remove,
Depriv'd of all his heart holds dear, How tweet the ftill furviving love
Of Friendinip's finile, of Pity's tear! This knew the fire: he oft would cry,
"From thefe, my fon, O ne'er depart! "Thefe tender charities that tie
"In mutual league the human heart. Be thine those feelings of the mind, "That wake at Honour's, Friendship's call: "Benevolence, that unconfin'd
"Extends her liberal hand to all. Mm
By Sympathy's untutor'd voice "Be taught her focial laws to keep; Rejoice if human heart rejoice, "And weep if human eye fhall weep. "The heart that bleeds for others' woes "Shall feel each felfish forrow lefs i "His breaft, who happinefs beftows, "Reflected happinefs fhall bless. "Each ruder paffion ftill withstood "That breaks o'er virtue's fober line, "The tender, noble, and the good,
"To cherish and indulge be thine. "And yet, my Armine, might I name "One paffion as a dangerous guest, "Well mayst thou wonder when I blame "The tenderett, nobleft, and the best. "Nature, 'tis true, with love defign'd "To finooth the race our fathers ran; "The favage of the human kind
"By love was toften'd into man. "As feels the ore the fearching fire, Expanding and refining too, "So fairer glow'd each fair deare, "Each gentle thought fo gentler grew. "How chang'd, alas! thofe happy days! "A train how different now fucceeds! "While fordid Avarice betrays,
"Or empty Vanity misleads. "Fled from the heart each nobler guest, "Each genuine feeling we forego; "What nature planted in the breast
"The flowers of love, are weeds of woe. "Hence all the pangs the heart must feel "Between contending paflions toft, "Wild Jealoufy's avenging fteel, "And life, and fame, and virtue loft! "Yet falling life, yet fading fame,
"Compar'd to what his heart annoy "Who cherishes a hopeless flame,
"Are terms of happiness and joy. "Ah, then, the foft contagion fly! "And timely fhun th' alluring bait!" The rifing blush, the downcaft eye, Proclaim'd-the precept was too late.
DEEP in the bofom of a wood,
Where art had form'd the moated idle,
An antique caftle tow'ring flood,
In Gothic grandeur rofe the pile.
Here Raymond, long in arms renown'd,
From fcenes of war would oft repair:
His bed an only daughter crown'd,'
And fmil'd away a father's care.
By Nature's happiest pencil drawn,
She wore the vernal morning's ray; The vernal morning's blufhing dawn Breaks not fo beauteous into day.
Her breaft, impatient of controul,
Scorn'd in its filken chains to lie,
And the foft language of the foul
Flow'd from her never-filent eye.
The bloom that open'd on her face
Well feem'd the emblem of her mind,
Where fnowy innocence we trace
With bluthing modefty combin'd.
To the fe refiftlefs grace impart
That look of fweetness form'd to please,
That elegance devoid of art,
That dignity that's lost in ease.
What youth fo cold could view unmov'd
The maid that ev'ry beauty shar'd?
Her Armine faw; he faw, he lov'd;
He lov'd-alas! and he defpair'd! Unhappy youth! he funk oppreft;
For much he labour'd to conceal That gentleft paffion of the breast, Which all can feign, but few can feel. Ingenuous fears fupprefs'd the flame,
Yet ftill he own`d its hidden power; With transport dwelling on her name, He footh'd the folitary hour. "How long," he cry'd, "muft I conceal "What yet my heart could with were known? "How long the trueft paffion feel, "And yet that paffion fear to own? Ah, might I breathe my humble vow! Might the too deign to lend an ear! "Elvira's felf fhould then allow
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"That Armine was at least sincere. "Wild with! to deem the matchless maid "Would listen to a youth like me, "Or that my vows could e'er perfuade, "Sincere and conftant tho' they be! "Ah! what avail my love or truth? "She liftens to no lowly swain; "Her charms muft blefs fome happier youth, "Some youth of Fortune's titled train, "Then go, fallacious Hope! adieu!
"The flattering profpect I refign; "And bear from my deluded view "The blifs that never must be mine! "Yet will the youth, whoe'er he be, "In truth or tenderness excel? "Or will he on thy charms like me
"With fonduels never-dying dwell? "Will he with thine his hopes unite? "With ready zeal thy joys improve? "With fond attention and delight
"Each with prevent, each fear remove? Will he, ftill faithful to thy charms, "For conftant love be long rever'd? "Nor quit that heaven within thy arms "By every tender tie endear'd? "What tho' his boastful heart be vain
"Of all that birth or fortune gave, "Yet is not mine, tho' rude and plain, "At least as noble and as brave?
Then be its gentle fuit preferr'd!
"Its tender fighs Elvira hear!
"In vain-I figh---but figh unheard;
"Unpitied falls this lonely tear!"
Twice twelve revolving moons had pass'd,
Since first he caught the fatal view;
Unchang'd by time his forrows laft,
Unchear'd by hope his paffion grew.
That paffion to indulge, he fought
In Raymond's groves the deepest shade;
There fancy's haunting fpirit brought
The image of his long-lov'd maid.
But hark! what more than mortal found
Steals on Attention's raptur'd ear?
The voice of harmony around
Swells in wild whispers foft and clear.
Can human hand a tone so fine
Sweep from the ftring with touch prophane?
Can human lip with breath divine
Pour on the gale so sweet a strain ?
Tis the---the fource of Armine's woe---
Tis the---whence all his joy must spring---
From her lov'd lips the numbers flow,
Her magic hand awakes the string.
Now, Armine, now thy love proclaim,
Thy inftant fuit the time demands;
Delay not---Tumult shakes his frame,
And loft in extacy he stands.
What magic chains thee to the ground?
What ftar malignant rules the hour,
That thus in fix'd delirium drown'd
Each fenfe entranc'd hath loft its pow'r?
The trance difpel! awake! arife!
Speak what untutor'd love inspires!
The moment's paft-thy wild furprise
She fees, nor unalarm'd retires.
"Stay, sweet illufion! ftay thy flight!
"Tis gone!--Elvira's form it wore---
"Yet one more glimpse of short delight!
"'Tis gone, to be beheld no more!
"Fly, loitering feet! the charm purfue
"That plays upon my hopes and fears!
"Hab!--no illufion mocks my view!
"Tis fhe---Elvira's self appears!
"And fhall I on her steps intrude?
"Alarm her in thefe lonely fhades?
"Oftay, fair nymph! no ruffian rude
"With base intent your walk invades.
"Far gentler thoughts"---his faultering tongue,
By humble diffidence reftrain'd,
Pass'd in fufpence---but thus ere long,
As love impell'd, its power regain'd:
"Far gentler thoughts that form infpires;
"With me far gentler paffions dwell;
"This heart hides only blameless fires,
"Yet burns with what it fears to tell. "The faultering voice that fears controul, "Blushes that inward fires declare, "Each tender tumult of the foul
"In filence owns Elvira there."
He faid; and as the trembling dove
Sent forth t' explore the watry plain,
Soon fear'd her flight might fatal prove,
And fudden fought her ark again,
His heart recoil'd; as one that rued
What he too hastily confefs'd,
And all the rifing foul fubdued
Sought refuge in his inmoft breast.
The tender ftrife Elvira faw
Diftreft; and as fome parent mild,
When arm'd with words and looks of awe,
Melts o'er the terrors of her child,
Reproof prepar'd and angry fear
In foft fenfations died away;
They felt the force of Armine's tear,
And fled from pity's rifing sway.
"That mournful voice, that modest air,
"Young stranger, speak the courteous breaf
"Then why to thefe rude fcenes repair,
"Of fhades the folitary gueft?
"And who is fhe whofe fortunes bear
"Elvira's melancholy name? "O may thofe fortunes prove more fair "Than hers who fadly owns the fame!" "Ah gentle maid, in mine furvey
"A heart," he cries, "that's yours alone; "Long has it own'd Elvira's fway,
"Tho' long unnotic'd and unknown.
"On Sherwood's old heroic plain
"Elvira grac'd the feltal day;
"There, foremost of the youthful train,
"Her Armine bore the prize away.
"There first that form my eyes furvey'd,
"With future hopes that fill'd my heart;
"But ah! beneath that frown they fade-
"Depart, vain, vanquifh'd hopes! depart!"
He faid; and on the ground his eyes
Were fix'd abath'd: th' attentive maid,
Loft in the tumult of furprife.
The well-remember'd youth furvey'd,
The tranfent colour went and came:
The struggling bosom funk and rofe;
The trembling tumults of her frame
The ftrong conflicting foul difclofe.
The time, the fcene fhe faw with dread,
Like Cynthia fetting glanc'd away:
But fcatter'd blushes as the filed,
Bluthes that spoke a brighter day.
A friendly fhepherd's neighbouring fhed
To país the live-long night he fought:
And hope, the lover's downy bed
A fweeter charm than flumber brought.
On every thought Flvira dwelt,
The tender air, the afpect kind,
The pity that he found the felt,
And all the angel in her mind,
No felf-plum'd vanity was there,
With fancy'd confequence elate;
Unknown to her the haughty air
That means to speak superior state,
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