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<section id="titlepage" epub:type="titlepage frontmatter">
<h1 epub:type="title">Poetry</h1>
<p>By <b epub:type="z3998:author z3998:personal-name">Thomas Gray</b>.</p>
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</section>
<nav id="toc" epub:type="toc">
<h2 epub:type="title">Table of Contents</h2>
<ol>
<li>
<a href="#titlepage">Titlepage</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#imprint">Imprint</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#ode-on-a-distant-prospect-of-eton-college">Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#ode-on-the-death-of-a-favourite-cat">Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#ode-on-the-spring">Ode on the Spring</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#elegy-written-in-a-country-churchyard">Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#a-long-story">A Long Story</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#hymn-to-adversity">Hymn to Adversity</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#the-bard">The Bard</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#the-progress-of-poesy">The Progress of Poesy</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#the-descent-of-odin">The Descent of Odin</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#the-fatal-sisters">The Fatal Sisters</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#ode-for-music">Ode for Music</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#agrippina">Agrippina</a>
<ol>
<li>
<a href="#agrippina-dramatis-personae">Dramatis Personae</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#agrippina-preface">The Argument</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#agrippina-act-i-scene-i">Scene <span epub:type="z3998:roman">I</span></a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#agrippina-act-i-scene-ii">Scene <span epub:type="z3998:roman">II</span></a>
</li>
</ol>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#the-alliance-of-education-and-government">The Alliance of Education and Government</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#epitaph-on-mrs-jane-clarke">Epitaph on <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Clarke</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#epitaph-on-sir-william-williams">Epitaph on Sir William Williams</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#hymn-to-ignorance">Hymn to Ignorance</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#lines-written-at-burnham">Lines Written at Burnham</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#ode-on-the-pleasure-arising-from-vicissitude">Ode on the Pleasure Arising from Vicissitude</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#gray-on-himself">Gray on Himself</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#sonnet-on-the-death-of-richard-west">Sonnet on the Death of Richard West</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#stanzas-to-mr-bentley">Stanzas to <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Bentley</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#the-candidate">The Candidate</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#impromptu-suggested-by-a-view">Impromptu</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#tophet">Tophet</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#song">Song</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#epitaph-on-mrs-mason">Epitaph on <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Mason</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#amatory-lines">Amatory Lines</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#comic-lines">Comic Lines</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#verses-from-shakespeare">Verses from Shakespeare</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#epitaph-on-a-child">Epitaph on a Child</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#satire-on-the-heads-of-houses">Satire on the Heads of Houses</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#impromptus">Impromptus</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#lines-on-dr-robert-smith">Lines</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#lines-spoken-by-the-ghost-of-john-dennis">Lines Spoken by the Ghost of John Dennis at the Devil Tavern</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#endnotes">Endnotes</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#colophon">Colophon</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#uncopyright">Uncopyright</a>
</li>
</ol>
</nav>
<section id="imprint" epub:type="imprint frontmatter">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title">Imprint</h2>
<img alt="The Standard Ebooks logo." 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epub:type="z3998:publisher-logo se:image.color-depth.black-on-transparent"/>
</header>
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</section>
<article id="ode-on-a-distant-prospect-of-eton-college" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title">Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College</h2>
<blockquote epub:type="epigraph">
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ανθρωπος· ἰκανὴ πρόφασις εἰς τὸ δυστνχεῖν.</p>
<cite>Menander</cite>
</blockquote>
</header>
<p>
<span>Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That crown the watry glade,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where grateful Science still adores</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Her Henrys holy Shade;<a href="#note-1" id="noteref-1" epub:type="noteref">1</a></span>
<br/>
<span>And ye, that from the stately brow</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Windsors heights the expanse below</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,</span>
<br/>
<span>Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among</span>
<br/>
<span>Wanders the hoary Thames along</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">His silver-winding way.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Ah happy hills, ah pleasing shade,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ah fields beloved in vain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where once my careless childhood strayed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A stranger yet to pain!</span>
<br/>
<span>I feel the gales, that from ye blow,</span>
<br/>
<span>A momentary bliss bestow,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">As waving fresh their gladsome wing</span>
<br/>
<span>My weary soul they seem to soothe,</span>
<br/>
<span>And, redolent of joy and youth,<a href="#note-2" id="noteref-2" epub:type="noteref">2</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To breathe a second spring.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Full many a sprightly race</span>
<br/>
<span>Disporting on thy margent green</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The paths of pleasure trace,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who foremost now delight to cleave</span>
<br/>
<span>With pliant arm thy glassy wave?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The captive linnet which enthrall?</span>
<br/>
<span>What idle progeny succeed</span>
<br/>
<span>To chase the rolling circles speed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or urge the flying ball?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>While some on earnest business bent</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their murmuring labours ply</span>
<br/>
<span>Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To sweeten liberty;</span>
<br/>
<span>Some bold adventurers disdain</span>
<br/>
<span>The limits of their little reign,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And unknown regions dare descry;</span>
<br/>
<span>Still as they run they look behind,</span>
<br/>
<span>They hear a voice in every wind,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And snatch a fearful joy.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Less pleasing when possest;</span>
<br/>
<span>The tear forgot as soon as shed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The sunshine of the breast;</span>
<br/>
<span>Theirs buxom health of rosy hue,</span>
<br/>
<span>Wild wit, invention ever-new,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And lively cheer of vigour born;</span>
<br/>
<span>The thoughtless day, the easy night,</span>
<br/>
<span>The spirits pure, the slumbers light,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That fly th approach of morn.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Alas, regardless of their doom,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The little victims play!</span>
<br/>
<span>No sense have they of ills to come,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor care beyond to-day;</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet see how all around em wait</span>
<br/>
<span>The Ministers of human fate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And black Misfortunes baleful train!</span>
<br/>
<span>Ah, show them where in ambush stand,</span>
<br/>
<span>To seize their prey, the murtherous band!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ah, tell them, they are men!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>These shall the fury Passions tear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The vultures of the mind,</span>
<br/>
<span>Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Shame that skulks behind;</span>
<br/>
<span>Or pining Love shall waste their youth,</span>
<br/>
<span>Or Jealousy with rankling tooth,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That inly gnaws the secret heart,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Envy wan, and faded Care,</span>
<br/>
<span>Grim-visaged comfortless Despair,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Sorrows piercing dart.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Ambition this shall tempt to rise,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Then whirl the wretch from high,</span>
<br/>
<span>To bitter Scorn a sacrifice,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And grinning Infamy.</span>
<br/>
<span>The stings of Falsehood those shall try,</span>
<br/>
<span>And hard Unkindness altered eye,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That mocks the tear it forced to flow;</span>
<br/>
<span>And keen Remorse with blood defiled,</span>
<br/>
<span>And moody Madness laughing wild<a href="#note-3" id="noteref-3" epub:type="noteref">3</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Amid severest woe.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Lo! in the vale of years beneath</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A grisly troop are seen,</span>
<br/>
<span>The painful family of Death,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">More hideous than their queen.</span>
<br/>
<span>This racks the joints, this fires the veins,</span>
<br/>
<span>That every labouring sinew strains,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Those in the deeper vitals rage;</span>
<br/>
<span>Lo, Poverty, to fill the band,</span>
<br/>
<span>That numbs the soul with icy hand,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And slow-consuming Age.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>To each his sufferings; all are men,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Condemned alike to groan,</span>
<br/>
<span>The tender for anothers pain,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The unfeeling for his own.</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet ah! why should they know their fate?</span>
<br/>
<span>Since sorrow never comes too late,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And happiness too swiftly flies.</span>
<br/>
<span>Thought would destroy their paradise.</span>
<br/>
<span>No more; where ignorance is bliss,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Tis folly to be wise.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="ode-on-the-death-of-a-favourite-cat" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>Twas on a lofty vases side,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where Chinas gayest art had dyed</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The azure flowers, that blow;</span>
<br/>
<span>Demurest of the tabby kind,</span>
<br/>
<span>The pensive Selima, reclined,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Gazed on the lake below.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Her conscious tail her joy declared;</span>
<br/>
<span>The fair round face, the snowy beard,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The velvet of her paws,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">She saw; and purred applause.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Still had she gazed; but midst the tide</span>
<br/>
<span>Two angel forms were seen to glide,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The Genii of the stream;</span>
<br/>
<span>Their scaly armours Tyrian hue</span>
<br/>
<span>Through richest purple to the view</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Betrayed a golden gleam.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The hapless nymph with wonder saw;</span>
<br/>
<span>A whisker first and then a claw,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With many an ardent wish,</span>
<br/>
<span>She stretched in vain to reach the prize.</span>
<br/>
<span>What female heart can gold despise?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">What Cats averse to fish?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Presumptuous maid! with looks intent</span>
<br/>
<span>Again she stretched, again she bent,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor knew the gulf between.</span>
<br/>
<span>(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)</span>
<br/>
<span>The slippery verge her feet beguiled,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">She tumbled headlong in.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Eight times emerging from the flood</span>
<br/>
<span>She mewed to every watry god,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Some speedy aid to send.</span>
<br/>
<span>No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirred;</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A favrite has no friend!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>From hence, ye Beauties, undeceived,</span>
<br/>
<span>Know, one false step is neer retrieved,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And be with caution bold.</span>
<br/>
<span>Not all that tempts your wandring eyes</span>
<br/>
<span>And heedless hearts is lawful prize;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor all, that glisters, gold.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="ode-on-the-spring" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Ode on the Spring</h2>
<p>
<span>Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Fair Venus train, appear,</span>
<br/>
<span>Disclose the long-expecting flowers,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And wake the purple year!</span>
<br/>
<span>The Attic warbler pours her throat,</span>
<br/>
<span>Responsive to the cuckoos note,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The untaught harmony of spring;</span>
<br/>
<span>While, whispering pleasure as they fly,</span>
<br/>
<span>Cool Zephyrs thro the clear blue sky</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their gathered fragrance fling.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Whereer the oaks thick branches stretch</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A broader browner shade,</span>
<br/>
<span>Whereer the rude and moss-grown beech</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oer-canopies the glade,<a href="#note-4" id="noteref-4" epub:type="noteref">4</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Beside some waters rushy brink</span>
<br/>
<span>With me the Muse shall sit, and think</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(At ease reclined in rustic state)</span>
<br/>
<span>How vain the ardour of the crowd,</span>
<br/>
<span>How low, how little are the proud,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">How indigent the great!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Still is the toiling hand of Care;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The panting herds repose;</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet hark, how through the peopled air</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The busy murmur glows!</span>
<br/>
<span>The insect youth are on the wing,</span>
<br/>
<span>Eager to taste the honied spring,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And float amid the liquid noon;<a href="#note-5" id="noteref-5" epub:type="noteref">5</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Some lightly oer the current skim,</span>
<br/>
<span>Some show their gaily-gilded trim</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Quick-glancing to the sun.<a href="#note-6" id="noteref-6" epub:type="noteref">6</a></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>To Contemplations sober eye<a href="#note-7" id="noteref-7" epub:type="noteref">7</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Such is the race of Man;</span>
<br/>
<span>And they that creep, and they that fly,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Shall end where they began.</span>
<br/>
<span>Alike the Busy and the Gay</span>
<br/>
<span>But flutter through lifes little day,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">In fortunes varying colours drest;</span>
<br/>
<span>Brushed by the hand of rough Mischance,</span>
<br/>
<span>Or chilled by age, their airy dance</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They leave, in dust to rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Methinks I hear in accents low</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The sportive kind reply:</span>
<br/>
<span>Poor moralist! and what art thou?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A solitary fly!</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy joys no glittering female meets,</span>
<br/>
<span>No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">No painted plumage to display;</span>
<br/>
<span>On hasty wings thy youth is flown</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">We frolic, while tis May.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="elegy-written-in-a-country-churchyard" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard</h2>
<p>
<span>The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,<a href="#note-8" id="noteref-8" epub:type="noteref">8</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The lowing herd wind slowly oer the lea,</span>
<br/>
<span>The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And leaves the world to darkness and to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And all the air a solemn stillness holds,</span>
<br/>
<span>Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The moping owl does to the moon complain</span>
<br/>
<span>Of such as, wandring near her secret bower,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Molest her ancient solitary reign.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-trees shade,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where heaves the turf in many a mouldring heap,</span>
<br/>
<span>Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The swallow twittring from the straw-built shed,</span>
<br/>
<span>The cocks shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or busy housewife ply her evening care;</span>
<br/>
<span>No children run to lisp their sires return,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;</span>
<br/>
<span>How jocund did they drive their team afield!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The short and simple annals of the poor.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And all that beauty, all that wealth eer gave,</span>
<br/>
<span>Awaits alike th inevitable hour.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The paths of glory lead but to the grave.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">If Memry oer their tomb no trophies raise,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where thro the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Can storied urn or animated bust</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?</span>
<br/>
<span>Can Honours voice provoke the silent dust,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or Flattry soothe the dull cold ear of Death?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Rich with the spoils of time did neer unroll;</span>
<br/>
<span>Chill Penury repressed their noble rage,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And froze the genial current of the soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Full many a gem, of purest ray serene,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;</span>
<br/>
<span>Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And waste its sweetness on the desert air.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The little tyrant of his fields withstood;</span>
<br/>
<span>Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Some Cromwell guiltless of his countrys blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Th applause of listning senates to command,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The threats of pain and ruin to despise,</span>
<br/>
<span>To scatter plenty oer a smiling land,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And read their history in a nations eyes,</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Their lot forbad; nor circumscribed alone</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;</span>
<br/>
<span>Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,</span>
<br/>
<span>Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With incense kindled at the Muses flame.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Far from the madding crowds ignoble strife,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their sober wishes never learned to stray;</span>
<br/>
<span>Along the cool sequestered vale of life</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Yet evn these bones from insult to protect</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Some frail memorial still erected nigh,</span>
<br/>
<span>With uncouth rhimes and shapeless sculpture decked,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Their name, their years, spelt by th unlettered Muse,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The place of fame and elegy supply;</span>
<br/>
<span>And many a holy text around she strews,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That teach the rustic moralist to die.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">This pleasing anxious being eer resigned,</span>
<br/>
<span>Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor cast one longing lingring look behind?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>On some fond breast the parting soul relies,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Some pious drops the closing eye requires;</span>
<br/>
<span>Evn from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Evn in our ashes live their wonted fires.<a href="#note-9" id="noteref-9" epub:type="noteref">9</a></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>For thee, who mindful of th unhonoured Dead</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;</span>
<br/>
<span>If chance, by lonely contemplation led,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn</span>
<br/>
<span>Brushing with hasty steps the dews away</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,</span>
<br/>
<span>His listless length at noontide would he stretch,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And pore upon the brook that babbles by.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Muttring his wayward fancies he would rove,</span>
<br/>
<span>Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>One morn I missed him on the customed hill,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Along the heath and near his favrite tree;</span>
<br/>
<span>Another came; nor yet beside the rill,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The next with dirges due in sad array</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Slow thro the church-way path we saw him borne.</span>
<br/>
<span>Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.”</span>
</p>
<div>
<header>
<p>The Epitaph</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.</span>
<br/>
<span>Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Melancholy marked him for her own,</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Heavn did a recompence as largely send;</span>
<br/>
<span>He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He gained from Heavn (twas all he wished) a friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>No farther seek his merits to disclose,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,</span>
<br/>
<span>(There they alike in trembling hope repose,)<a href="#note-10" id="noteref-10" epub:type="noteref">10</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The bosom of his Father and his God.</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="a-long-story" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">A Long Story</h2>
<p>
<span>In Britains Isle, no matter where,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">An ancient pile of building stands;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Huntingdons and Hattons there</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Employed the power of Fairy hands</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>To raise the ceilings fretted height,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Each panel in achievements clothing,</span>
<br/>
<span>Rich windows that exclude the light,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And passages, that lead to nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Full oft within the spacious walls,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">When he had fifty winters oer him,</span>
<br/>
<span>My grave Lord-keeper led the brawls;<a href="#note-11" id="noteref-11" epub:type="noteref">11</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The seal, and maces, danced before him.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>His bushy beard, and shoe-strings green,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">His high-crowned hat, and satin-doublet,</span>
<br/>
<span>Moved the stout heart of Englands Queen,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Tho Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>What, in the very first beginning!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Shame of the versifying tribe!</span>
<br/>
<span>Your Histry whither are you spinning?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Can you do nothing but describe?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>A house there is, (and thats enough)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">From whence one fatal morning issues</span>
<br/>
<span>A brace of warriors, not in buff,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But rustling in their silks and tissues.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The first came cap-a-pie from France,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Her conquring destiny fulfilling,</span>
<br/>
<span>Whom meaner beauties eye askance,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And vainly ape her art of killing.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The other Amazon kind Heaven</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Had armed with spirit, wit, and satire;</span>
<br/>
<span>But <b>Cobham</b> had the polish given</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And tipped her arrows with good-nature.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>To celebrate her eyes, her air</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Coarse panegyrics would but tease her.</span>
<br/>
<span>Melissa is her nom de guerre.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Alas, who would not wish to please her!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>With bonnet blue and capucine,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And aprons long they hid their armour,</span>
<br/>
<span>And veiled their weapons bright and keen</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">In pity to the country farmer.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Fame, in the shape of <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Purt,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(By this time all the parish know it)</span>
<br/>
<span>Had told that thereabouts there lurked</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A wicked imp they call a Poet,</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Who prowled the country far and near,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Bewitched the children of the peasants,</span>
<br/>
<span>Dried up the cows, and lamed the deer,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And sucked the eggs, and killed the pheasants.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>My Lady heard their joint petition,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Swore by her coronet and ermine,</span>
<br/>
<span>Shed issue out her high commission</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To rid the manor of such vermin.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The Heroines undertook the task,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Thro lanes unknown, oer stiles they ventured,</span>
<br/>
<span>Rapped at the door, nor stayed to ask,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But bounce into the parlour entered.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The trembling family they daunt,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They flirt, they sing, they laugh, they tattle,</span>
<br/>
<span>Rummage his Mother, pinch his Aunt,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And up stairs in a whirlwind rattle.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Each hole and cupboard they explore,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Each creek and cranny of his chamber,</span>
<br/>
<span>Run hurry-skurry round the floor,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And oer the bed and tester clamber;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Into the drawers and china pry,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Papers and books, a huge imbroglio!</span>
<br/>
<span>Under a tea-cup he might lie,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or creased, like dogs-ears, in a folio.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>On the first marching of the troops,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The Muses, hopeless of his pardon,</span>
<br/>
<span>Conveyed him underneath their hoops</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To a small closet in the garden.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>So Rumor says. (Who will, believe.)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But that they left the door a-jar,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where, safe and laughing in his sleeve,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He heard the distant din of war.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Short was his joy. He little knew</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The power of Magic was no fable;</span>
<br/>
<span>Out of the window, whisk, they flew,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But left a spell upon the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The words too eager to unriddle,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The Poet felt a strange disorder;</span>
<br/>
<span>Transparent birdlime formed the middle,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And chains invisible the border.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>So cunning was the apparatus,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The powerful pot-hooks did so move him,</span>
<br/>
<span>That, will he, nill he, to the great-house</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He went, as if the Devil drove him.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Yet on his way (no sign of grace,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">For folks in fear are apt to pray)</span>
<br/>
<span>To Phoebus he preferred his case,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And begged his aid that dreadful day.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The godhead would have backed his quarrel,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But, with a blush on recollection,</span>
<br/>
<span>Owned that his quiver and his laurel</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Gainst four such eyes were no protection.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The Court was sate, the Culprit there,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Forth from their gloomy mansions creeping</span>
<br/>
<span>The lady <em>Janes</em> and <em>Joans</em> repair,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And from the gallery stand peeping.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Such as in silence of the night</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Come (sweep) along some winding entry,</span>
<br/>
<span>(<em>Styack</em> has often seen the sight)<a href="#note-12" id="noteref-12" epub:type="noteref">12</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or at the chapel-door stand sentry;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>In peaked hoods and mantles tarnished,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Sour visages, enough to scare ye,</span>
<br/>
<span>High Dames of honour once, that garnished</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The Peeress comes. The audience stare,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And doff their hats with due submission;</span>
<br/>
<span>She curtsies, as she takes her chair,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To all the people of condition.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The Bard, with many an artful fib,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Had in imagination fenced him,</span>
<br/>
<span>Disproved the arguments of <em>Squib</em>,<a href="#note-13" id="noteref-13" epub:type="noteref">13</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And all that <em>Groom</em> could urge against him.<a href="#note-14" id="noteref-14" epub:type="noteref">14</a></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>But soon his rhetoric forsook him,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">When he the solemn hall had seen;</span>
<br/>
<span>A sudden fit of ague shook him,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He stood as mute as poor <em>Macleane</em>.<a href="#note-15" id="noteref-15" epub:type="noteref">15</a></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Yet something he was heard to mutter,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“How in the park beneath an old tree,</span>
<br/>
<span>(Without design to hurt the butter,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or any malice to the poultry,)</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>He once or twice had penned a sonnet;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Yet hoped, that he might save his bacon;</span>
<br/>
<span>Numbers would give their oaths upon it,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He neer was for a conjuror taken.”</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The ghostly Prudes with hagged face</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Already had condemned the sinner.</span>
<br/>
<span>My Lady rose, and with a grace</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">She smiled, and bid him come to dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>“Jesu-Maria! Madame Bridget,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Why, what can the Viscountess mean?”</span>
<br/>
<span>(Cried the square hoods in woeful fidget)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“The times are altered quite and clean!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Decorums turned to mere civility;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Her air and all her manners show it.</span>
<br/>
<span>Commend me to her affability!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Speak to a Commoner and Poet!”</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>[Here 500 Stanzas are lost.]</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>And so God save our noble King,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And guard us from long-winded lubbers,</span>
<br/>
<span>That to eternity would sing,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And keep my Lady from her rubbers.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="hymn-to-adversity" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title">Hymn to Adversity</h2>
<blockquote epub:type="epigraph">
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">
<span class="i2">—Ζῆνα⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Τὸν φρονεῖν Βροτοὺς ὁδώ⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>σαντα, τῷ πάθει μαθὰν</span>
<br/>
<span>θέντα κυρίως ἔχειν.</span>
</p>
<cite>Aeschylus, in <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnone</i></cite>
</blockquote>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Daughter of Jove, relentless Power,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Thou Tamer of the human breast,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Whose iron scourge and torturing hour</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The bad affright, afflict the best!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Bound in thy adamantine chain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The proud are taught to taste of pain,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And purple tyrants vainly groan</span>
<br/>
<span>With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">When first thy Sire to send on earth</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Virtue, his darling child, designed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To thee he gave the heavenly birth,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And bad to form her infant mind.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With patience many a year she bore;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">What sorrow was, thou badst her know,</span>
<br/>
<span>And from her own she learned to melt at others woe.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">Scared at thy frown terrific, fly</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Self-pleasing Follys idle brood,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And leave us leisure to be good.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Light they disperse, and with them go</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The summer friend, the flattering foe;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">By vain Prosperity received,</span>
<br/>
<span>To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">Wisdom in sable garb arrayed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Immersed in rapturous thought profound,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Melancholy, silent maid</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">With leaden eye, that loves the ground,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Still on thy solemn steps attend;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Warm Charity, the general friend,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With Justice to herself severe,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">Oh, gently on thy suppliants head,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Dread Goddess, lay thy chastening hand!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Nor circled with the vengeful band</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(As by the impious thou art seen)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With thundering voice, and threatening mien,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With screaming Horrors funeral cry,</span>
<br/>
<span>Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">Thy form benign, oh Goddess, wear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Thy milder influence impart,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Thy philosophic train be there</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">To soften, not to wound my heart,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The generous spark extinct revive,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Teach me to love and to forgive,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Exact my own defects to scan,</span>
<br/>
<span>What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="the-bard" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Bard</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">A Pindaric Ode</p>
</hgroup>
<p>The following Ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that Edward the First, when he completed the conquest of that country, ordered all the bards that fell into his hands to be put to death.</p>
</header>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">1</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!</span>
<br/>
<span>Confusion on thy banners wait,</span>
<br/>
<span>Though fanned by Conquests crimson wing</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They mock the air with idle state.<a href="#note-16" id="noteref-16" epub:type="noteref">16</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Helm, nor hauberks twisted mail,<a href="#note-17" id="noteref-17" epub:type="noteref">17</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Nor even thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">From Cambrias curse, from Cambrias tears!”</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Such were the sounds, that oer the crested pride<a href="#note-18" id="noteref-18" epub:type="noteref">18</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of the first Edward scattered wild dismay,</span>
<br/>
<span>As down the steep of Snowdons shaggy side<a href="#note-19" id="noteref-19" epub:type="noteref">19</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He wound with toilsome march his long array.</span>
<br/>
<span>Stout Gloster stood aghast in speechless trance;<a href="#note-20" id="noteref-20" epub:type="noteref">20</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“To arms!” cried Mortimer, and couched his quivering lance.<a href="#note-21" id="noteref-21" epub:type="noteref">21</a></span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">2</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">On a rock, whose haughty brow,</span>
<br/>
<span>Frowns oer old Conways foaming flood,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Robed in the sable garb of woe,</span>
<br/>
<span>With haggard eyes the Poet stood;</span>
<br/>
<span>(Loose his beard, and hoary hair<a href="#note-22" id="noteref-22" epub:type="noteref">22</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air)<a href="#note-23" id="noteref-23" epub:type="noteref">23</a></span>
<br/>
<span>And with a Masters hand, and Prophets fire,</span>
<br/>
<span>Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Hark, how each giant-oak, and desert cave,</span>
<br/>
<span>Sighs to the torrents awful voice beneath!</span>
<br/>
<span>Oer thee, oh King! their hundred arms they wave,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe;</span>
<br/>
<span>Vocal no more, since Cambrias fatal day,</span>
<br/>
<span>To high-born Hoels harp, or soft Llewellyns lay.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">3</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Cold is Cadwallos tongue,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That hushed the stormy main;</span>
<br/>
<span>Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Mountains, ye mourn in vain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Modred, whose magic song</span>
<br/>
<span>Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topped head.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">On dreary Arvons shore they lie,<a href="#note-24" id="noteref-24" epub:type="noteref">24</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Smeared with gore, and ghastly pale;</span>
<br/>
<span>Far, far aloof th affrighted ravens sail;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">The famished Eagle screams, and passes by.<a href="#note-25" id="noteref-25" epub:type="noteref">25</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Dear lost companions of my tuneful art,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes,<a href="#note-26" id="noteref-26" epub:type="noteref">26</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ye died amidst your dying countrys cries</span>
<br/>
<span>No more I weep. They do not sleep.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">On yonder cliffs, a grisly band,</span>
<br/>
<span>I see them sit, they linger yet,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Avengers of their native land;</span>
<br/>
<span>With me in dreadful harmony they join,</span>
<br/>
<span>And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.”<a href="#note-27" id="noteref-27" epub:type="noteref">27</a></span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">1</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Weave the warp, and weave the woof,</span>
<br/>
<span>The winding-sheet of Edwards race.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Give ample room, and verge enough</span>
<br/>
<span>The characters of hell to trace.</span>
<br/>
<span>Mark the year, and mark the night,</span>
<br/>
<span>When Severn shall re-echo with affright<a href="#note-28" id="noteref-28" epub:type="noteref">28</a></span>
<br/>
<span>The shrieks of death, thro Berkleys roofs that ring,</span>
<br/>
<span>Shrieks of an agonizing King!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">She-Wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs,<a href="#note-29" id="noteref-29" epub:type="noteref">29</a></span>
<br/>
<span>That tearst the bowels of thy mangled Mate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">From thee be born, who oer thy country hangs<a href="#note-30" id="noteref-30" epub:type="noteref">30</a></span>
<br/>
<span>The scourge of Heaven. What Terrors round him wait!</span>
<br/>
<span>Amazement in his van, with Flight combined,</span>
<br/>
<span>And sorrows faded form, and solitude behind.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">2</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Mighty Victor, mighty Lord!</span>
<br/>
<span>Low on his funeral couch he lies!<a href="#note-31" id="noteref-31" epub:type="noteref">31</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">No pitying heart, no eye, afford</span>
<br/>
<span>A tear to grace his obsequies.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Is the sable Warrior fled?<a href="#note-32" id="noteref-32" epub:type="noteref">32</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Thy son is gone. He rests among the Dead.</span>
<br/>
<span>The Swarm, that in thy noontide beam were born?</span>
<br/>
<span>Gone to salute the rising Morn.</span>
<br/>
<span>Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the Zephyr blows,<a href="#note-33" id="noteref-33" epub:type="noteref">33</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">While proudly riding oer the azure realm</span>
<br/>
<span>In gallant trim the gilded Vessel goes;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm;</span>
<br/>
<span>Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwinds sway,</span>
<br/>
<span>That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening-prey.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">3</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Fill high the sparkling bowl,<a href="#note-34" id="noteref-34" epub:type="noteref">34</a></span>
<br/>
<span>The rich repast prepare,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast;</span>
<br/>
<span>Close by the regal chair</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Fell Thirst and Famine scowl</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A baleful smile upon their baffled Guest.</span>
<br/>
<span>Heard ye the din of battle bray,<a href="#note-35" id="noteref-35" epub:type="noteref">35</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Lance to lance, and horse to horse?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Long Years of havoc urge their destined course,</span>
<br/>
<span>And thro the kindred squadrons mow their way.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ye Towers of Julius, Londons lasting shame,<a href="#note-36" id="noteref-36" epub:type="noteref">36</a></span>
<br/>
<span>With many a foul and midnight murther fed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Revere his Consorts faith, his Fathers fame,<a href="#note-37" id="noteref-37" epub:type="noteref">37</a><a href="#note-38" id="noteref-38" epub:type="noteref">38</a></span>
<br/>
<span>And spare the meek Usurpers holy head.<a href="#note-39" id="noteref-39" epub:type="noteref">39</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Above, below, the rose of snow,<a href="#note-40" id="noteref-40" epub:type="noteref">40</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Twined with her blushing foe, we spread;</span>
<br/>
<span>The bristled Boar in infant-gore<a href="#note-41" id="noteref-41" epub:type="noteref">41</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Wallows beneath the thorny shade.</span>
<br/>
<span>Now, Brothers, bending oer th accursed loom</span>
<br/>
<span>Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his doom.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">1</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Edward, lo! to sudden fate</span>
<br/>
<span>(Weave we the woof. The thread is spun.)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Half of thy heart we consecrate.<a href="#note-42" id="noteref-42" epub:type="noteref">42</a></span>
<br/>
<span>(The web is wove. The work is done.)</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn</span>
<br/>
<span>Leave me unblessed, unpitied, here to mourn;</span>
<br/>
<span>In yon bright track, that fires the western skies,</span>
<br/>
<span>They melt, they vanish from my eyes.</span>
<br/>
<span>But oh! what solemn scenes on Snowdons height</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Descending slow their glittring skirts unroll?</span>
<br/>
<span>Visions of glory, spare my aching sight,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ye unborn Ages, crowd not on my soul!</span>
<br/>
<span>No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail.<a href="#note-43" id="noteref-43" epub:type="noteref">43</a></span>
<br/>
<span>All hail, ye genuine Kings, Britannias Issue, hail!”<a href="#note-44" id="noteref-44" epub:type="noteref">44</a></span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">2</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“Girt with many a Baron bold</span>
<br/>
<span>Sublime their starry fronts they rear;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And gorgeous Dames, and Statesmen old</span>
<br/>
<span>In bearded majesty, appear.</span>
<br/>
<span>In the midst a Form divine!</span>
<br/>
<span>Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-Line;</span>
<br/>
<span>Her lion-port, her awe commanding face,<a href="#note-45" id="noteref-45" epub:type="noteref">45</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Attempered sweet to virgin-grace.</span>
<br/>
<span>What strings symphonious tremble in the air,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">What strains of vocal transport round her play!</span>
<br/>
<span>Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear;<a href="#note-46" id="noteref-46" epub:type="noteref">46</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They breathe a soul to animate thy clay.</span>
<br/>
<span>Bright Rapture calls, and soaring, as she sings,</span>
<br/>
<span>Waves in the eye of Heaven her many-coloured wings.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">3</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">“The verse adorn again</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Fierce War, and faithful Love,<a href="#note-47" id="noteref-47" epub:type="noteref">47</a></span>
<br/>
<span>And Truth severe, by fairy Fiction drest.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">In buskined measures move<a href="#note-48" id="noteref-48" epub:type="noteref">48</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Pale Grief, and pleasing Pain,</span>
<br/>
<span>With Horror, Tyrant of the throbbing breast.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A Voice as of the Cherub-Choir,<a href="#note-49" id="noteref-49" epub:type="noteref">49</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Gales from blooming Eden bear;</span>
<br/>
<span>And distant warblings lessen on my ear,<a href="#note-50" id="noteref-50" epub:type="noteref">50</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That lost in long futurity expire.</span>
<br/>
<span>Fond impious Man, thinkst thou, yon sanguine cloud,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Raised by thy breath, has quenched the Orb of day?</span>
<br/>
<span>To-morrow he repairs the golden flood,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And warms the nations with redoubled ray.</span>
<br/>
<span>Enough for me. With joy I see</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The different doom our Fates assign.</span>
<br/>
<span>Be thine Despair, and sceptred Care,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To triumph, and to die, are mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>He spoke, and headlong from the mountains height</span>
<br/>
<span>Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night.</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="the-progress-of-poesy" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Progress of Poesy</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">A Pindaric Ode</p>
</hgroup>
<blockquote epub:type="epigraph">
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">
<span>Φωνᾶντα συνετοῖσιν· ἐς</span>
<br/>
<span>Δὲ τὸ πᾶν ἑρμηνέων χατίζει.</span>
</p>
<cite>Pindar, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Olymp</i>. <span epub:type="z3998:roman">ii</span></cite>
</blockquote>
</header>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">1</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake,<a href="#note-51" id="noteref-51" epub:type="noteref">51</a></span>
<br/>
<span>And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.</span>
<br/>
<span>From Helicons harmonious springs</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A thousand rills their mazy progress take;</span>
<br/>
<span>The laughing flowers, that round them blow,</span>
<br/>
<span>Drink life and fragrance as they flow.</span>
<br/>
<span>Now the rich stream of music winds along,</span>
<br/>
<span>Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,</span>
<br/>
<span>Through verdant vales, and Ceres golden reign;</span>
<br/>
<span>Now rolling down the steep amain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Headlong, impetuous, see it pour;</span>
<br/>
<span>The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">2</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul,<a href="#note-52" id="noteref-52" epub:type="noteref">52</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,</span>
<br/>
<span>Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.</span>
<br/>
<span>On Thracias hills the Lord of War</span>
<br/>
<span>Has curbed the fury of his car,</span>
<br/>
<span>And dropped his thirsty lance at thy command.</span>
<br/>
<span>Perching on the sceptred hand<a href="#note-53" id="noteref-53" epub:type="noteref">53</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feathered king</span>
<br/>
<span>With ruffled plumes and flagging wing;</span>
<br/>
<span>Quenched in dark clouds of slumber lie</span>
<br/>
<span>The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">3</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Thee the voice, the dance, obey,<a href="#note-54" id="noteref-54" epub:type="noteref">54</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Tempered to thy warbled lay.</span>
<br/>
<span>Oer Idalias velvet-green</span>
<br/>
<span>The rosy-crowned Loves are seen</span>
<br/>
<span>On Cythereas day</span>
<br/>
<span>With antic Sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures,</span>
<br/>
<span>Frisking light in frolic measures;</span>
<br/>
<span>Now pursuing, now retreating,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Now in circling troops they meet;</span>
<br/>
<span>To brisk notes in cadence beating</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Glance their many-twinkling feet.<a href="#note-55" id="noteref-55" epub:type="noteref">55</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Slow melting strains their Queens approach declare;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Whereer she turns the Graces homage pay.</span>
<br/>
<span>With arms sublime, that float upon the air,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">In gliding state she wins her easy way;</span>
<br/>
<span>Oer her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move</span>
<br/>
<span>The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love.<a href="#note-56" id="noteref-56" epub:type="noteref">56</a></span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">1</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Mans feeble race what ills await!<a href="#note-57" id="noteref-57" epub:type="noteref">57</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Disease, and Sorrows weeping train,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate!</span>
<br/>
<span>The fond complaint, my Song, disprove,</span>
<br/>
<span>And justify the laws of Jove.</span>
<br/>
<span>Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse?</span>
<br/>
<span>Night, and all her sickly dews,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry,</span>
<br/>
<span>He gives to range the dreary sky;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till down the eastern cliffs afar<a href="#note-58" id="noteref-58" epub:type="noteref">58</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Hyperions march they spy, and glittering shafts of war.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">2</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">In climes beyond the solar road,<a href="#note-59" id="noteref-59" epub:type="noteref">59</a><a href="#note-60" id="noteref-60" epub:type="noteref">60</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Where shaggy forms oer ice-built mountains roam,</span>
<br/>
<span>The Muse has broke the twilight gloom</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To cheer the shivering natives dull abode.</span>
<br/>
<span>And oft, beneath the odorous shade</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Chiles boundless forests laid,</span>
<br/>
<span>She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat,</span>
<br/>
<span>In loose numbers wildly sweet,</span>
<br/>
<span>Their feather-cinctured Chiefs, and dusky Loves.</span>
<br/>
<span>Her track, whereer the Goddess roves,</span>
<br/>
<span>Glory pursue, and generous Shame,</span>
<br/>
<span>The unconquerable Mind, and Freedoms holy flame.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">3</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Woods, that wave oer Delphis steep,<a href="#note-61" id="noteref-61" epub:type="noteref">61</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Isles, that crown the Aegean deep,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Fields, that cool Ilissus laves,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or where Maeanders amber waves</span>
<br/>
<span>In lingering labyrinths creep,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">How do your tuneful echoes languish,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Mute, but to the voice of Anguish!</span>
<br/>
<span>Where each old poetic mountain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Inspiration breathed around;</span>
<br/>
<span>Every shade and hallowed fountain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Murmured deep a solemn sound;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till the sad Nine in Greeces evil hour</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains.</span>
<br/>
<span>Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant-Power,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And coward Vice, that revels in her chains.</span>
<br/>
<span>When Latium had her lofty spirit lost,</span>
<br/>
<span>They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">1</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Far from the sun and summer-gale,</span>
<br/>
<span>In thy green lap was Natures Darling laid,<a href="#note-62" id="noteref-62" epub:type="noteref">62</a></span>
<br/>
<span>What time, where lucid Avon strayed,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To him the mighty Mother did unveil</span>
<br/>
<span>Her awful face. The dauntless Child</span>
<br/>
<span>Stretched forth his little arms, and smiled.</span>
<br/>
<span>This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear</span>
<br/>
<span>Richly paint the vernal year;</span>
<br/>
<span>Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy!</span>
<br/>
<span>This can unlock the gates of Joy,</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears,</span>
<br/>
<span>Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">2</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Nor second He, that rode sublime<a href="#note-63" id="noteref-63" epub:type="noteref">63</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy,</span>
<br/>
<span>The secrets of th Abyss to spy,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">He passed the flaming bounds of Place and Time;<a href="#note-64" id="noteref-64" epub:type="noteref">64</a></span>
<br/>
<span>The living Throne, the sapphire-blaze,<a href="#note-65" id="noteref-65" epub:type="noteref">65</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Where Angels tremble, while they gaze,</span>
<br/>
<span>He saw; but, blasted with excess of light,</span>
<br/>
<span>Closed his eyes in endless night.<a href="#note-66" id="noteref-66" epub:type="noteref">66</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Behold, where Drydens less presumptuous car</span>
<br/>
<span>Wide oer the fields of Glory bear</span>
<br/>
<span>Two Coursers of ethereal race,<a href="#note-67" id="noteref-67" epub:type="noteref">67</a></span>
<br/>
<span>With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace.<a href="#note-68" id="noteref-68" epub:type="noteref">68</a></span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p><span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</span>. <span epub:type="ordinal">3</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Hark, his hands the lyre explore!</span>
<br/>
<span>Bright-eyed Fancy hovering oer</span>
<br/>
<span>Scatters from her pictured urn</span>
<br/>
<span>Thoughts, that breathe, and words, that burn.<a href="#note-69" id="noteref-69" epub:type="noteref">69</a></span>
<br/>
<span>But ah! tis heard no more<a href="#note-70" id="noteref-70" epub:type="noteref">70</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Wakes thee now? tho he inherit</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That the Theban Eagle bear<a href="#note-71" id="noteref-71" epub:type="noteref">71</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Sailing with supreme dominion</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Thro the azure deep of air;</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet oft before his infant eyes would run</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Such forms, as glitter in the Muses ray</span>
<br/>
<span>With orient hues, unborrowed of the Sun;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way</span>
<br/>
<span>Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate,</span>
<br/>
<span>Beneath the Good how far—but far above the Great.</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="the-descent-of-odin" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Descent of Odin</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">An Ode from the Norse Tongue</p>
</hgroup>
<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">In Bartholinus, de causis contemnendae mortis; Hafniae, 1689</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Uprose the King of Men with speed,</span>
<br/>
<span>And saddled strait his coal-black steed;</span>
<br/>
<span>Down the yawning steep he rode,</span>
<br/>
<span>That leads to Helas drear abode.<a href="#note-72" id="noteref-72" epub:type="noteref">72</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Him the Dog of Darkness spied,</span>
<br/>
<span>His shaggy throat he opened wide,</span>
<br/>
<span>While from his jaws, with carnage filled,</span>
<br/>
<span>Foam and human gore distilled;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hoarse he bays with hideous din,</span>
<br/>
<span>Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin;</span>
<br/>
<span>And long pursues, with fruitless yell,</span>
<br/>
<span>The father of the powerful spell.</span>
<br/>
<span>Onward still his way he takes,</span>
<br/>
<span>(The groaning earth beneath him shakes,)</span>
<br/>
<span>Till full before his fearless eyes</span>
<br/>
<span>The portals nine of hell arise.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">Right against the eastern gate,</span>
<br/>
<span>By the moss-grown pile he sate;</span>
<br/>
<span>Where long of yore to sleep was laid</span>
<br/>
<span>The dust of the prophetic Maid.</span>
<br/>
<span>Facing to the northern clime,</span>
<br/>
<span>Thrice he traced the runic rhyme;</span>
<br/>
<span>Thrice pronounced, in accents dread,</span>
<br/>
<span>The thrilling verse that wakes the dead;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till from out the hollow ground</span>
<br/>
<span>Slowly breathed a sullen sound.</span>
</p>
<div>
<header>
<p>Prophetess</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">What call unknown, what charms presume</span>
<br/>
<span>To break the quiet of the tomb?</span>
<br/>
<span>Who thus afflicts my troubled sprite,</span>
<br/>
<span>And drags me from the realms of night?</span>
<br/>
<span>Long on these mouldring bones have beat</span>
<br/>
<span>The winters snow, the summers heat,</span>
<br/>
<span>The drenching dews, and driving rain!</span>
<br/>
<span>Let me, let me sleep again.</span>
<br/>
<span>Who is he, with voice unblest,</span>
<br/>
<span>That calls me from the bed of rest?</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Odin</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">A Traveller, to thee unknown,</span>
<br/>
<span>Is he that calls, a Warriors son.</span>
<br/>
<span>Thou the deeds of light shalt know;</span>
<br/>
<span>Tell me what is done below,</span>
<br/>
<span>For whom yon glittring board is spread,</span>
<br/>
<span>Drest for whom yon golden bed.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Prophetess</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Mantling in the goblet see</span>
<br/>
<span>The pure beverage of the bee,</span>
<br/>
<span>Oer it hangs the shield of gold;</span>
<br/>
<span>Tis the drink of <em>Balder</em> bold;</span>
<br/>
<span><em>Balders</em> head to death is given.</span>
<br/>
<span>Pain can reach the sons of Heaven!</span>
<br/>
<span>Unwilling I my lips unclose;</span>
<br/>
<span>Leave me, leave me to repose.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Odin</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Once again my call obey.</span>
<br/>
<span>Prophetess, arise, and say,</span>
<br/>
<span>What dangers <em>Odins</em> child await,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who the Author of his fate.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Prophetess</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">In <em>Hoders</em> hand the Heros doom;</span>
<br/>
<span>His brother sends him to the tomb.</span>
<br/>
<span>Now my weary lips I close;</span>
<br/>
<span>Leave me, leave me to repose.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Odin</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Prophetess, my spell obey,</span>
<br/>
<span>Once again arise, and say,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who th Avenger of his guilt,</span>
<br/>
<span>By whom shall <em>Hoders</em> blood be spilt.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Prophetess</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">In the caverns of the west,</span>
<br/>
<span>By <em>Odins</em> fierce embrace comprest,</span>
<br/>
<span>A wondrous Boy shall <em>Rinda</em> bear,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who neer shall comb his raven-hair,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor wash his visage in the stream,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor see the suns departing beam,</span>
<br/>
<span>Till he on <em>Hoders</em> corse shall smile</span>
<br/>
<span>Flaming on the funral pile.</span>
<br/>
<span>Now my weary lips I close;</span>
<br/>
<span>Leave me, leave me to repose.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Odin</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Yet a while my call obey.</span>
<br/>
<span>Prophetess, awake, and say,</span>
<br/>
<span>What Virgins these, in speechless woe,</span>
<br/>
<span>That bend to earth their solemn brow,</span>
<br/>
<span>That their flaxen tresses tear,</span>
<br/>
<span>And snowy veils, that float in air.</span>
<br/>
<span>Tell me whence their sorrows rose;</span>
<br/>
<span>Then I leave thee to repose.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Prophetess</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Ha! no Traveller art thou,</span>
<br/>
<span>King of Men, I know thee now;</span>
<br/>
<span>Mightiest of a mighty line</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Odin</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">No boding Maid of skill divine</span>
<br/>
<span>Art thou, nor Prophetess of good;</span>
<br/>
<span>But Mother of the giant-brood!</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Prophetess</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Hie thee hence, and boast at home,</span>
<br/>
<span>That never shall enquirer come</span>
<br/>
<span>To break my iron-sleep again;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till <em>Lok</em> has burst his tenfold chain.<a href="#note-73" id="noteref-73" epub:type="noteref">73</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Never, till substantial Night</span>
<br/>
<span>Has reassumed her ancient right;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till wrapped in flames, in ruin hurled,</span>
<br/>
<span>Sinks the fabric of the world.</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="the-fatal-sisters" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Fatal Sisters</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">An Ode from the Norse Tongue</p>
</hgroup>
<p>In <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">The Orcades</i> of Thormodus Torfseus; Hafniae, 1697, folio; and also in Bartholinus.</p>
</header>
<div epub:type="preface">
<header>
<p>Advertisement</p>
</header>
<p>The author once had thoughts (in concert with a friend) of giving the history of English poetry. In the introduction to it he meant to have produced some specimens of the style that reigned in ancient times among the neighbouring nations, or those who had subdued the greater part of this Island, and were our progenitors; “<span epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">The Fatal Sisters</span>” and “<span epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">The Descent of Odin</span>” made a part of it. He has long since dropped his design, especially after he heard, that it was already in the hands of a person well qualified to do it justice, both by his taste, and his researches into antiquity.—Gray, 1768.</p>
</div>
<div epub:type="preface">
<header>
<p>Preface</p>
</header>
<p>In the eleventh century, Sigurd, Earl of the Orkney Islands, went with a fleet of ships and a considerable body of troops into Ireland, to the assistance of Sictryg with the silken beard, who was then making war on his father-in-law Brian, King of Dublin; the Earl and all his forces were cut to pieces, and Sictryg was in danger of a total defeat; but the enemy had a greater loss by the death of Brian their king, who fell in the action. On Christmas Day (the day of the battle), a native of Caithness in Scotland saw at a distance a number of persons on horseback riding full speed towards a hill, and seeming to enter into it. Curiosity led him to follow them, till looking through an opening in the rocks, he saw twelve gigantic figures resembling women; they were all employed about a loom; and as they wove, they sung the following dreadful song; which, when they had finished, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped six to the north and as many to the south.—Gray, 1768.</p>
</div>
<p>
<span>Now the storm begins to lower<a href="#note-74" id="noteref-74" epub:type="noteref">74</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(Haste, the loom of Hell prepare,)</span>
<br/>
<span>Iron-sleet of arrowy shower<a href="#note-75" id="noteref-75" epub:type="noteref">75</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Hurtles in the darkened air.<a href="#note-76" id="noteref-76" epub:type="noteref">76</a></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Glittring lances are the loom,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where the dusky warp we strain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Weaving many a soldiers doom,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1"><em>Orkneys</em> woe, and <em>Randvers</em> bane.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>See the grisly texture grow,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(Tis of human entrails made)</span>
<br/>
<span>And the weights, that play below,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Each a gasping warriors head.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Shafts for shuttles, dipt in gore,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Shoot the trembling cords along.</span>
<br/>
<span>Sword, that once a monarch bore,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Keep the tissue close and strong.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span><em>Mista</em> black, terrific maid,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1"><em>Sangrida</em>, and <em>Hilda</em>, see,</span>
<br/>
<span>Join the wayward work to aid;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Tis the woof of victory.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Ere the ruddy sun be set,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Pikes must shiver, javelins sing,</span>
<br/>
<span>Blade with clattering buckler meet,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Hauberk crash, and helmet ring.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>(Weave the crimson web of war)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Let us go, and let us fly,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where our friends the conflict share,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where they triumph, where they die.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>As the paths of fate we tread,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Wading through th ensanguined field;</span>
<br/>
<span><em>Gondula</em>, and <em>Geira</em>, spread</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oer the youthful King your shield.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>We the reins to slaughter give,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ours to kill, and ours to spare;</span>
<br/>
<span>Spite of danger he shall live.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(Weave the crimson web of war.)</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>They, whom once the desert beach</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Pent within its bleak domain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Soon their ample sway shall stretch</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oer the plenty of the plain.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Low the dauntless Earl is laid,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Gored with many a gaping wound;</span>
<br/>
<span>Fate demands a nobler head;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Soon a King shall bite the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Long his loss shall Eirin weep,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Neer again his likeness see;</span>
<br/>
<span>Long her strains in sorrow steep,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Strains of immortality!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Horror covers all the heath,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Clouds of carnage blot the sun.</span>
<br/>
<span>Sisters, weave the web of death;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Sisters, cease, the work is done.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Hail the task, and hail the hands!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Songs of joy and triumph sing</span>
<br/>
<span>Joy to the victorious bands;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Triumph to the younger King.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Mortal, thou that hearst the tale,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Learn the tenor of our song.</span>
<br/>
<span>Scotland, thro each winding vale</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Far and wide the notes prolong.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Sisters, hence with spurs of speed;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Each her thundering faulchion wield;</span>
<br/>
<span>Each bestride her sable steed.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Hurry, hurry to the field.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="ode-for-music" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Ode for Music</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">Performed at the Installation of the Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, 1769</p>
</hgroup>
<div>
<header>
<p>Air</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>“Hence, avaunt, (tis holy ground)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Comus, and his midnight crew,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Ignorance with looks profound,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And dreaming Sloth of pallid hue,</span>
<br/>
<span>Mad Seditions cry profane,</span>
<br/>
<span>Servitude that hugs her chain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor in these consecrated bowers</span>
<br/>
<span>Let painted Flattry hide her serpent train in flowers.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Chorus</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>“Nor Envy base, nor creeping Gain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Dare the Muses walk to stain,</span>
<br/>
<span>While bright-eyed Science watches round;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hence, away, tis holy ground!”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Recitative</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>From yonder realms of empyrean day</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Bursts on my ear th indignant lay;</span>
<br/>
<span>There sit the sainted Sage, the Bard divine,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The few, whom Genius gave to shine</span>
<br/>
<span>Thro every unborn age, and undiscovered clime.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Accompanied</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Rapt in celestial transport they,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Yet hither oft a glance from high</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They send of tender sympathy</span>
<br/>
<span>To bless the place, where on their opening soul</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">First the genuine ardor stole.</span>
<br/>
<span>Twas Milton struck the deep-toned shell,</span>
<br/>
<span>And, as the choral warblings round him swell,</span>
<br/>
<span>Meek Newtons self bends from his state sublime,</span>
<br/>
<span>And nods his hoary head, and listens to the rhyme.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Air</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">“Ye brown oer-arching groves,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">That Contemplation loves,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where willowy Camus lingers with delight!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Oft at the blush of dawn</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">I trod your level lawn,</span>
<br/>
<span>Oft wooed the gleam of Cynthia silver-bright</span>
<br/>
<span>In cloisters dim, far from the haunts of Folly,</span>
<br/>
<span>With Freedom by my side, and soft-eyed Melancholy.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Recitative</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>But hark! the portals sound, and pacing forth,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">With solemn steps and slow,</span>
<br/>
<span>High potentates, and dames of royal birth,</span>
<br/>
<span>And mitred fathers in long order go;</span>
<br/>
<span>Great Edward, with the lilies on his brow</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">From haughty Gallia torn,</span>
<br/>
<span>And sad Chatillon, on her bridal morn</span>
<br/>
<span>That wept her bleeding Love, and princely Clare,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Anjous Heroine, and the paler Rose,</span>
<br/>
<span>The rival of her crown and of her woes,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And either Henry there,</span>
<br/>
<span>The murthered saint, and the majestic lord</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">That broke the bonds of Rome.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Accompanied</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">(Their tears, their little triumphs oer,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Their human passions now no more,</span>
<br/>
<span>Save Charity, that glows beyond the tomb.)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">All that on Grantas fruitful plain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Rich streams of regal bounty poured,</span>
<br/>
<span>And bad these awful fanes and turrets rise,</span>
<br/>
<span>To hail their Fitzroys festal morning come;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And thus they speak in soft accord</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The liquid language of the skies:⁠—</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Quartetto</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">“What is grandeur, what is power?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Heavier toil, superior pain.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">What the bright reward we gain?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The grateful memory of the good.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The bees collected treasures sweet,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Sweet musics melting fall, but sweeter yet</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The still small voice of gratitude.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Recitative</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Foremost and leaning from her golden cloud</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The venerable Margaret see!</span>
<br/>
<span>“Welcome, my noble son, (she cries aloud)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To this, thy kindred train, and me;</span>
<br/>
<span>Pleased in thy lineaments we trace</span>
<br/>
<span>A Tudors fire, a Beauforts grace.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Air</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>“Thy liberal heart, thy judging eye,</span>
<br/>
<span>The flower unheeded shall descry,</span>
<br/>
<span>And bid it round heavens altars shed</span>
<br/>
<span>The fragrance of its blushing head;</span>
<br/>
<span>Shall raise from earth the latent gem</span>
<br/>
<span>To glitter on the diadem.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Recitative</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>“Lo! Granta waits to lead her blooming band,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Not obvious, not obtrusive, she</span>
<br/>
<span>No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor dares with courtly tongue refined</span>
<br/>
<span>Profane thy inborn royalty of mind;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">She reveres herself and thee.</span>
<br/>
<span>With modest pride to grace thy youthful brow,</span>
<br/>
<span>The laureate wreath, that Cecil wore, she brings,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And to thy just, thy gentle hand</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Submits the fasces of her sway,</span>
<br/>
<span>While spirits blest above and men below</span>
<br/>
<span>Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay.”</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Grand Chorus</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>“Thro the wild waves as they roar,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With watchful eye and dauntless mien,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Thy steady course of honour keep,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor fear the rocks, nor seek the shore;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The Star of Brunswick smiles serene,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And gilds the horrors of the deep.”</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="agrippina" epub:type="z3998:drama z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Agrippina</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">A Fragment of a Tragedy</p>
</hgroup>
<section id="agrippina-dramatis-personae" epub:type="z3998:dramatis-personae">
<h3 epub:type="title">Dramatis Personae</h3>
<ul>
<li>
<p>Agrippina, the Empress-mother</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Nero, the Emperor</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Poppaea, believed to be in love with Otho</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Otho, a young man of quality, in love with Poppaea</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Seneca, the Emperors Preceptor</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Anicetus, Captain of the Guards</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Demetrius, the Cynic, friend to Seneca</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Aceronia, Confidant to Agrippina</p>
</li>
</ul>
</section>
<section id="agrippina-preface" epub:type="preface">
<h3 epub:type="title">The Argument</h3>
<p>The drama opens with the indignation of Agrippina at receiving her sons orders from Anicetus to remove from Baiae, and to have her guard taken from her. At this time Otho having conveyed Poppaea from the house of her husband Rufus Crispinus, brings her to Baiae, where he means to conceal her among the crowd; or, if his fraud is discovered, to have recourse to the Emperors authority; but, knowing the lawless temper of Nero, he determines not to have recourse to that expedient but on the utmost necessity. In the meantime he commits her to the care of Anicetus, whom he takes to be his friend, and in whose age he thinks he may safely confide. Nero is not yet come to Baiae; but Seneca, whom he sends before him, informs Agrippina of the accusation concerning Rubellius Plancus, and desires her to clear herself, which she does briefly, but demands to see her son, who, on his arrival, acquits her of all suspicion, and restores her to her honours.</p>
<p>In the mean while, Anicetus, to whose care Poppaea had been entrusted by Otho, contrives the following plot to ruin Agrippina; he betrays his trust to Otho, and brings Nero, as it were by chance, to the sight of the beautiful Poppaea. The Emperor is immediately struck with her charms, and she, by a feigned resistance, increases his passion; though, in reality, she is from the first dazzled with the prospect of empire, and forgets Otho. She therefore joins with Anicetus in his design of ruining Agrippina, soon perceiving that it will be for her interest. Otho hearing that the Emperor had seen Poppaea, is much enraged; but not knowing that this interview was obtained through the treachery of Anicetus, is readily persuaded by him to see Agrippina in secret, and acquaint her with his fears that her son Nero would marry Poppaea. Agrippina, to support her own power, and to wean the Emperor from the love of Poppaea, gives Otho encouragement, and promises to support him. Anicetus secretly introduces Nero to hear their discourse; who resolves immediately on his mothers death, and, by Anicetuss means, to destroy her by drowning. A solemn feast, in honour of their reconciliation, is to be made; after which she being to go by sea to Bauli, the ship is so contrived as to sink or crush her; she escapes by accident, and returns to Baiae.</p>
<p>In this interval Otho has an interview with Poppaea; and being duped a second time by Anicetus and her, determines to fly with her into Greece, by means of a vessel which is to be furnished by Anicetus; but he, pretending to remove Poppaea on board in the night, conveys her to Neros apartment; she there encourages and determines Nero to banish Otho, and finish the horrid deed he had attempted on his mother. Anicetus undertakes to execute his resolves; and, under pretence of a plot upon the Emperors life, is sent with a guard to murder Agrippina, who is still at Baiae in imminent fear, and irresolute how to conduct herself. The account of her death, and the Emperors horror and fruitless remorse, finishes the drama.</p>
</section>
<section id="agrippina-act-i-scene-i" epub:type="chapter z3998:scene">
<header>
<hgroup>
<h3>
<span epub:type="label">Act</span>
<span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>
</h3>
<p>
<span epub:type="label">Scene</span>
<span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>
</p>
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Agrippina</b>, <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Aceronia</b></p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Scene—The Emperors villa at Baiae.</i>
</p>
</header>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Agrippina</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">Tis well, begone! your errand is performed,</span>
<br/>
<span>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Speaks as to Anicetus entering.</i>
</span>
<br/>
<span>The message needs no comment. Tell your master,</span>
<br/>
<span>His mother shall obey him. Say you saw her</span>
<br/>
<span>Yielding due reverence to his high command;</span>
<br/>
<span>Alone, unguarded and without a lictor,</span>
<br/>
<span>As fits the daughter of Germanicus.</span>
<br/>
<span>Say, she retired to Antium; there to tend</span>
<br/>
<span>Her household cares, a womans best employment.</span>
<br/>
<span>What if you add, how she turned pale and trembled;</span>
<br/>
<span>You think, you spied a tear stand in her eye,</span>
<br/>
<span>And would have dropped, but that her pride restrained it?</span>
<br/>
<span>(Go! you can paint it well) twill profit you,</span>
<br/>
<span>And please the stripling. Yet twould dash his joy</span>
<br/>
<span>To hear the spirit of Britannicus</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet walks on earth; at least there are who know</span>
<br/>
<span>Without a spell to raise, and bid it fire</span>
<br/>
<span>A thousand haughty hearts, unused to shake</span>
<br/>
<span>When a boy frowns, nor to be lured with smiles</span>
<br/>
<span>To taste of hollow kindness, or partake</span>
<br/>
<span>His hospitable board; they are aware</span>
<br/>
<span>Of the unpledged bowl, they love not aconite.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Aceronia</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">Hes gone; and much I hope these walls alone</span>
<br/>
<span>And the mute air are privy to your passion.</span>
<br/>
<span>Forgive your servants fears, who sees the danger</span>
<br/>
<span>Which fierce resentment cannot fail to raise</span>
<br/>
<span>In haughty youth, and irritated power.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Agrippina</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">And dost thou talk to me, to me, of danger,</span>
<br/>
<span>Of haughty youth and irritated power,</span>
<br/>
<span>To her that gave it being, her that armed</span>
<br/>
<span>This painted Jove, and taught his novice hand</span>
<br/>
<span>To aim the forked bolt; while he stood trembling,</span>
<br/>
<span>Scared at the sound, and dazzled with its brightness?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Tis like, thou hast forgot, when yet a stranger</span>
<br/>
<span>To adoration, to the grateful steam</span>
<br/>
<span>Of flatterys incense, and obsequious vows</span>
<br/>
<span>From voluntary realms, a puny boy,</span>
<br/>
<span>Decked with no other lustre, than the blood</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Agrippinas race, he lived unknown</span>
<br/>
<span>To fame, or fortune; haply eyed at distance</span>
<br/>
<span>Some edileship, ambitious of the power</span>
<br/>
<span>To judge of weights and measures; scarcely dared</span>
<br/>
<span>On Expectations strongest wing to soar</span>
<br/>
<span>High as the consulate, that empty shade</span>
<br/>
<span>Of long-forgotten liberty; when I</span>
<br/>
<span>Oped his young eye to bear the blaze of greatness;</span>
<br/>
<span>Showed him where empire towered, and bade him strike</span>
<br/>
<span>The noble quarry. Gods! then was the time</span>
<br/>
<span>To shrink from danger; fear might then have worn</span>
<br/>
<span>The mask of prudence; but a heart like mine,</span>
<br/>
<span>A heart that glows with the pure Julian fire,</span>
<br/>
<span>If bright Ambition from her craggy seat</span>
<br/>
<span>Display the radiant prize, will mount undaunted,</span>
<br/>
<span>Gain the rough heights, and grasp the dangerous honour.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Aceronia</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">Through various life I have pursued your steps,</span>
<br/>
<span>Have seen your soul, and wondered at its daring;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hence rise my fears. Nor am I yet to learn</span>
<br/>
<span>How vast the debt of gratitude which Nero</span>
<br/>
<span>To such a mother owes; the world, you gave him,</span>
<br/>
<span>Suffices not to pay the obligation.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">I well remember too (for I was present)</span>
<br/>
<span>When in a secret and dead hour of night,</span>
<br/>
<span>Due sacrifice performed with barbrous rites</span>
<br/>
<span>Of muttered charms, and solemn invocation,</span>
<br/>
<span>You bade the Magi call the dreadful powers,</span>
<br/>
<span>That read futurity, to know the fate</span>
<br/>
<span>Impending oer your son; their answer was,</span>
<br/>
<span>If the son reign, the mother perishes.</span>
<br/>
<span>Perish (you cried) the mother! reign the son!</span>
<br/>
<span>He reigns, the rest is heavens; who oft has bad,</span>
<br/>
<span>Even when its will seemed wrote in lines of blood,</span>
<br/>
<span>Th unthought event disclose a whiter meaning.</span>
<br/>
<span>Think too how oft in weak and sickly minds</span>
<br/>
<span>The sweets of kindness lavishly indulged</span>
<br/>
<span>Rankle to gall; and benefits too great</span>
<br/>
<span>To be repaid, sit heavy on the soul,</span>
<br/>
<span>As unrequited wrongs. The willing homage</span>
<br/>
<span>Of prostrate Rome, the senates joint applause,</span>
<br/>
<span>The riches of the earth, the train of pleasures</span>
<br/>
<span>That wait on youth, and arbitrary sway;</span>
<br/>
<span>These were your gift, and with them you bestowed</span>
<br/>
<span>The very power he has to be ungrateful.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Agrippina</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">Thus ever grave and undisturbed reflection</span>
<br/>
<span>Pours its cool dictates in the madding ear</span>
<br/>
<span>Of rage, and thinks to quench the fire it feels not.</span>
<br/>
<span>Sayst thou I must be cautious, must be silent,</span>
<br/>
<span>And tremble at the phantom I have raised?</span>
<br/>
<span>Carry to him thy timid counsels. He</span>
<br/>
<span>Perchance may heed em. Tell him, too, that one,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who had such liberal power to give, may still</span>
<br/>
<span>With equal power resume that gift, and raise</span>
<br/>
<span>A tempest that shall shake her own creation</span>
<br/>
<span>To its original atoms—tell me, say!⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>This mighty emperor, this dreaded hero,</span>
<br/>
<span>Has he beheld the glittering front of war?</span>
<br/>
<span>Knows his soft ear the trumpets thrilling voice,</span>
<br/>
<span>And outcry of the battle? Have his limbs</span>
<br/>
<span>Sweat under iron harness? Is he not</span>
<br/>
<span>The silken son of dalliance, nursed in ease</span>
<br/>
<span>And pleasures flowery lap?—Rubellius lives,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Sylla has his friends, though schooled by fear</span>
<br/>
<span>To bow the supple knee, and court the times</span>
<br/>
<span>With shows of fair obeisance; and a call,</span>
<br/>
<span>Like mine, might serve belike to wake pretensions</span>
<br/>
<span>Drowsier than theirs, who boast the genuine blood</span>
<br/>
<span>Of our imperial house.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Aceronia</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">Did I not wish to check this dangerous passion,</span>
<br/>
<span>I might remind my mistress that her nod</span>
<br/>
<span>Can rouse eight hardy legions, wont to stem</span>
<br/>
<span>With stubborn nerves the tide, and face the rigour</span>
<br/>
<span>Of bleak Germanias snows. Four, not less brave,</span>
<br/>
<span>That in Armenia quell the Parthian force</span>
<br/>
<span>Under the warlike Corbulo, by you</span>
<br/>
<span>Marked for their leader; these, by ties confirmed,</span>
<br/>
<span>Of old respect and gratitude, are yours.</span>
<br/>
<span>Surely the Masians too, and those of Egypt,</span>
<br/>
<span>Have not forgot your sire; the eye of Rome</span>
<br/>
<span>And the Praetorian camp have long revered,</span>
<br/>
<span>With customed awe, the daughter, sister, wife,</span>
<br/>
<span>And mother of their Caesars.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Agrippina</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i4">Ha! by Juno,</span>
<br/>
<span>It bears a noble semblance. On this base</span>
<br/>
<span>My great revenge shall rise; or say we sound</span>
<br/>
<span>The trump of Liberty; there will not want,</span>
<br/>
<span>Even in the servile senate, ears to own</span>
<br/>
<span>Her spirit-stirring voice; Soranus there,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Cassius, Vetus too, and Thrasea,</span>
<br/>
<span>Minds of the antique cast, rough, stubborn souls,</span>
<br/>
<span>That struggle with the yoke. How shall the spark</span>
<br/>
<span>Unquenchable, that glows within their breasts,</span>
<br/>
<span>Blaze into freedom, when the idle herd</span>
<br/>
<span>(Slaves from the womb, created but to stare,</span>
<br/>
<span>And bellow in the Circus) yet will start,</span>
<br/>
<span>And shake em at the name of Liberty,</span>
<br/>
<span>Stung by a senseless word, a vain tradition,</span>
<br/>
<span>As there were magic in it! Wrinkled beldams</span>
<br/>
<span>Teach it their grandchildren, as somewhat rare</span>
<br/>
<span>That anciently appeared, but when, extends</span>
<br/>
<span>Beyond their chronicle—oh! tis a cause</span>
<br/>
<span>To arm the hand of childhood, and rebrace</span>
<br/>
<span>The slackened sinews of time-wearied age.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Yes, we may meet, ingrateful boy, we may!</span>
<br/>
<span>Again the buried Genius of old Rome</span>
<br/>
<span>Shall from the dust uprear his reverend head,</span>
<br/>
<span>Roused by the shout of millions; there before</span>
<br/>
<span>His high tribunal thou and I appear.</span>
<br/>
<span>Let majesty sit on thy awful brow,</span>
<br/>
<span>And lighten from thy eye; around thee call</span>
<br/>
<span>The gilded swarm that wantons in the sunshine</span>
<br/>
<span>Of thy full favour; Seneca be there</span>
<br/>
<span>In gorgeous phrase of laboured eloquence</span>
<br/>
<span>To dress thy plea, and Burrhus strengthen it.</span>
<br/>
<span>With his plain soldiers oath, and honest seeming.</span>
<br/>
<span>Against thee, Liberty and Agrippina;</span>
<br/>
<span>The world, the prize; and fair befall the victors.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But soft! why do I waste the fruitless hours</span>
<br/>
<span>In threats unexecuted? Haste thee, fly</span>
<br/>
<span>These hated walls that seem to mock my shame,</span>
<br/>
<span>And cast me forth in duty to their lord.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">My thought aches at him; not the basilisk</span>
<br/>
<span>More deadly to the sight, than is to me</span>
<br/>
<span>The cool injurious eye of frozen kindness.</span>
<br/>
<span>I will not meet its poison. Let him feel</span>
<br/>
<span>Before he sees me. Yes, I will be gone,</span>
<br/>
<span>But not to Antium—all shall be confessed,</span>
<br/>
<span>Whateer the frivolous tongue of giddy fame</span>
<br/>
<span>Has spread among the crowd; things, that but whispered</span>
<br/>
<span>Have arched the hearers brow, and riveted</span>
<br/>
<span>His eyes in fearful ecstasy; no matter</span>
<br/>
<span>What; sot be strange, and dreadful.—Sorceries,</span>
<br/>
<span>Assassinations, poisonings—the deeper</span>
<br/>
<span>My guilt, the blacker his ingratitude.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And you, ye manes of Ambitions victims,</span>
<br/>
<span>Enshrined Claudius, with the pitied ghosts</span>
<br/>
<span>Of the Syllani, doomed to early death,</span>
<br/>
<span>(Ye unavailing horrors, fruitless crimes!)</span>
<br/>
<span>If from the realms of night my voice ye hear,</span>
<br/>
<span>In lieu of penitence, and vain remorse,</span>
<br/>
<span>Accept my vengeance. Though by me ye bled,</span>
<br/>
<span>He was the cause. My love, my fears for him,</span>
<br/>
<span>Dried the soft springs of pity in my heart,</span>
<br/>
<span>And froze them up with deadly cruelty.</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet if your injured shades demand my fate,</span>
<br/>
<span>If murder cries for murder, blood for blood,</span>
<br/>
<span>Let me not fall alone; but crush his pride,</span>
<br/>
<span>And sink the traitor in his mothers ruin.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Exeunt.</i>
</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</section>
<section id="agrippina-act-i-scene-ii" epub:type="chapter z3998:scene">
<hgroup>
<h3>
<span epub:type="label">Act</span>
<span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</span>
</h3>
<p>
<span epub:type="label">Scene</span>
<span epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</span>
</p>
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Otho</b>, <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Poppaea</b></p>
</hgroup>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Otho</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span class="i1">Thus far were safe. Thanks to the rosy queen</span>
<br/>
<span>Of amorous thefts; and had her wanton son</span>
<br/>
<span>Lent us his wings, we could not have beguiled</span>
<br/>
<span>With more elusive speed the dazzled sight</span>
<br/>
<span>Of wakeful jealousy. Be gay securely;</span>
<br/>
<span>Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the timrous cloud</span>
<br/>
<span>That hangs on thy clear brow. So Helen looked,</span>
<br/>
<span>So her white neck reclined, so was she borne</span>
<br/>
<span>By the young Trojan to his gilded bark</span>
<br/>
<span>With fond reluctance, yielding modesty,</span>
<br/>
<span>And oft reverted eye, as if she knew not</span>
<br/>
<span>Whether she feared, or wished to be pursued.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</section>
</article>
<article id="the-alliance-of-education-and-government" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<header>
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Alliance of Education and Government</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">A Fragment</p>
</hgroup>
<blockquote epub:type="epigraph">
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">
<span>… πόταγ ̕ ὦ ̕γαθέ· τὰν γὰρ ἀοιδὰν</span>
<br/>
<span>Οὕτι πα εἰς Αΐδάν γε τὸν ἐκλελάθοντα φυλαξεῖς.</span>
</p>
<cite>Theocritus, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Id</i>. <span epub:type="z3998:roman">I</span>. 63</cite>
</blockquote>
</header>
<div>
<header>
<p>Essay <span epub:type="z3998:roman">I</span>.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>As sickly plants betray a niggard earth,</span>
<br/>
<span>Whose barren bosom starves her generous birth,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor genial warmth, nor genial juice retains</span>
<br/>
<span>Their roots to feed, and fill their verdant veins;</span>
<br/>
<span>And as in climes, where Winter holds his reign,</span>
<br/>
<span>The soil, though fertile, will not teem in vain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Forbids her gems to swell, her shades to rise,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor trusts her blossoms to the churlish skies,</span>
<br/>
<span>So draw mankind in vain the vital airs,</span>
<br/>
<span>Unformed, unfriended, by those kindly cares,</span>
<br/>
<span>That health and vigour to the soul impart,</span>
<br/>
<span>Spread the young thought, and warm the opening heart.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">So fond Instruction on the growing powers</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Nature idly lavishes her stores,</span>
<br/>
<span>If equal Justice with unclouded face</span>
<br/>
<span>Smile not indulgent on the rising race,</span>
<br/>
<span>And scatter with a free though frugal hand</span>
<br/>
<span>Light golden showers of plenty oer the land.</span>
<br/>
<span>But Tyranny has fixed her empire there,</span>
<br/>
<span>To check their tender hopes with chilling fear,</span>
<br/>
<span>And blast the blooming promise of the year.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">This spacious animated scene survey</span>
<br/>
<span>From where the rolling orb, that gives the day,</span>
<br/>
<span>His sable sons with nearer course surrounds,</span>
<br/>
<span>To either pole, and lifes remotest bounds.</span>
<br/>
<span>How rude so eer th exterior form we find,</span>
<br/>
<span>Howeer Opinion tinge the varied mind,</span>
<br/>
<span>Alike to all the kind impartial Heaven</span>
<br/>
<span>The sparks of truth and happiness has given;</span>
<br/>
<span>With sense to feel, with memory to retain,</span>
<br/>
<span>They follow pleasure, and they fly from pain;</span>
<br/>
<span>Their judgment mends the plan their fancy draws,</span>
<br/>
<span>Th event presages, and explores the cause.</span>
<br/>
<span>The soft returns of gratitude they know,</span>
<br/>
<span>By fraud elude, by force repel the foe,</span>
<br/>
<span>While mutual wishes, mutual woes endear</span>
<br/>
<span>The social smile, and sympathetic tear.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Say then, thro ages by what fate confined</span>
<br/>
<span>To different climes seem different souls assigned?</span>
<br/>
<span>Here measured laws and philosophic ease</span>
<br/>
<span>Fix and improve the polished arts of peace;</span>
<br/>
<span>There Industry and Gain their vigils keep,</span>
<br/>
<span>Command the winds, and tame th unwilling deep.</span>
<br/>
<span>Here Force and hardy deeds of blood prevail.</span>
<br/>
<span>There languid Pleasure sighs in every gale.</span>
<br/>
<span>Oft oer the trembling nations from afar</span>
<br/>
<span>Has Scythia breathed the living cloud of war;</span>
<br/>
<span>And, where the deluge burst, with sweepy sway</span>
<br/>
<span>Their arms, their kings, their gods were rolled away.</span>
<br/>
<span>As oft have issued, host impelling host,</span>
<br/>
<span>The blue-eyed myriads from the Baltic coast.</span>
<br/>
<span>The prostrate South to the destroyer yields</span>
<br/>
<span>Her boasted titles and her golden fields.</span>
<br/>
<span>With grim delight the brood of Winter view</span>
<br/>
<span>A brighter day, and heavens of azure hue;</span>
<br/>
<span>Scent the new fragrance of the breathing rose,</span>
<br/>
<span>And quaff the pendent vintage as it grows.</span>
<br/>
<span>Proud of the yoke, and pliant to the rod,</span>
<br/>
<span>Why yet does Asia dread a monarchs nod,</span>
<br/>
<span>While European freedom still withstands</span>
<br/>
<span>Th encroaching tide, that drowns her lessening lands,</span>
<br/>
<span>And sees far off with an indignant groan,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her native plains, and empires once her own.</span>
<br/>
<span>Can opener skies, and suns of fiercer flame</span>
<br/>
<span>Oerpower the fire that animates our frame;</span>
<br/>
<span>As lamps, that shed at eve a cheerful ray,</span>
<br/>
<span>Fade and expire beneath the eye of day?</span>
<br/>
<span>Need we the influence of the northern star</span>
<br/>
<span>To string our nerves and steel our hearts to war?</span>
<br/>
<span>And, where the face of nature laughs around,</span>
<br/>
<span>Must sickning virtue fly the tainted ground?</span>
<br/>
<span>Unmanly thought! what seasons can control,</span>
<br/>
<span>What fancied zone can circumscribe the Soul,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who, conscious of the source from whence she springs,</span>
<br/>
<span>By Reasons light, on Resolutions wings,</span>
<br/>
<span>Spite of her frail companion, dauntless goes</span>
<br/>
<span>Oer Libyas deserts and through Zemblas snows?</span>
<br/>
<span>She bids each slumbring energy awake,</span>
<br/>
<span>Another touch, another temper take,</span>
<br/>
<span>Suspends th inferior laws that rule our clay;</span>
<br/>
<span>The stubborn elements confess her sway,</span>
<br/>
<span>Their little wants, their low desires, refine,</span>
<br/>
<span>And raise the mortal to a height divine.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Not but the human fabric from the birth</span>
<br/>
<span>Imbibes a flavour of its parent earth,</span>
<br/>
<span>As various tracts enforce a various toil,</span>
<br/>
<span>The manners speak the idiom of their soil.</span>
<br/>
<span>An iron-race the mountain-cliffs maintain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Foes to the gentler genius of the plain;</span>
<br/>
<span>For where unwearied sinews must be found</span>
<br/>
<span>With side-long plough to quell the flinty ground,</span>
<br/>
<span>To turn the torrents swift-descending flood,</span>
<br/>
<span>To brave the savage rushing from the wood,</span>
<br/>
<span>What wonder, if to patient valour trained</span>
<br/>
<span>They guard with spirit what by strength they gained?</span>
<br/>
<span>And while their rocky ramparts round they see,</span>
<br/>
<span>The rough abode of want and liberty,</span>
<br/>
<span>(As lawless force from confidence will grow)</span>
<br/>
<span>Insult the plenty of the vales below?</span>
<br/>
<span>What wonder in the sultry climes, that spread</span>
<br/>
<span>Where Nile redundant oer his summer-bed</span>
<br/>
<span>From his broad bosom life and verdure flings</span>
<br/>
<span>And broods oer Egypt with his watry wings,</span>
<br/>
<span>If with adventurous oar and ready sail,</span>
<br/>
<span>The dusky people drive before the gale;</span>
<br/>
<span>Or on frail floats to distant cities ride,</span>
<br/>
<span>That rise and glitter oer the ambient tide?</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="epitaph-on-mrs-jane-clarke" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Epitaph on <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Clarke</h2>
<p>
<span>Lo! where this silent marble weeps,</span>
<br/>
<span>A Friend, a Wife, a Mother sleeps;</span>
<br/>
<span>A heart, within whose sacred cell</span>
<br/>
<span>The peaceful virtues loved to dwell.</span>
<br/>
<span>Affection warm, and faith sincere,</span>
<br/>
<span>And soft humanity were there.</span>
<br/>
<span>In agony, in death, resigned,</span>
<br/>
<span>She felt the wound she left behind,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her infant image here below</span>
<br/>
<span>Sits smiling on a fathers woe;</span>
<br/>
<span>Whom what awaits, while yet he strays</span>
<br/>
<span>Along the lonely vale of days?</span>
<br/>
<span>A pang, to secret sorrow dear,</span>
<br/>
<span>A sigh, an unavailing tear;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till time shall every grief remove,</span>
<br/>
<span>With life, with memory, and with love.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="epitaph-on-sir-william-williams" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Epitaph on Sir William Williams</h2>
<p>
<span>Here, foremost in the dangerous paths of fame,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Young Williams fought for Englands fair renown;</span>
<br/>
<span>His mind each Muse, each Grace adorned his frame,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor envy dared to view him with a frown.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>At Aix, his voluntary sword he drew,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">There first in blood his infant honour sealed;</span>
<br/>
<span>From fortune, pleasure, science, love, he flew,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And scorned repose when Britain took the field.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>With eyes of flame, and cool undaunted breast</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Victor he stood on Belleisles rocky steeps</span>
<br/>
<span>Ah, gallant youth; this marble tells the rest,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where melancholy friendship bends, and weeps.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="hymn-to-ignorance" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Hymn to Ignorance</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">A Fragment</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>Hail, horrors, hail! ye ever gloomy bowers,</span>
<br/>
<span>Ye gothic fanes, and antiquated towers,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where rushy Camus slowly-winding flood</span>
<br/>
<span>Perpetual draws his humid train of mud;</span>
<br/>
<span>Glad I revisit thy neglected reign,</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh take me to thy peaceful shade again.</span>
<br/>
<span>But chiefly thee, whose influence breathed from high</span>
<br/>
<span>Augments the native darkness of the sky;</span>
<br/>
<span>Ah, Ignorance! soft salutary power!</span>
<br/>
<span>Prostrate with filial reverence I adore.</span>
<br/>
<span>Thrice hath Hyperion rolled his annual race,</span>
<br/>
<span>Since weeping I forsook thy fond embrace.</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh say, successful dost thou still oppose</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy leaden aegis gainst our ancient foes?</span>
<br/>
<span>Still stretch, tenacious of thy right divine,</span>
<br/>
<span>The massy sceptre oer thy slumbering line?</span>
<br/>
<span>And dews Lethean through the land dispense</span>
<br/>
<span>To steep in slumbers each benighted sense?</span>
<br/>
<span>If any spark of wits delusive ray</span>
<br/>
<span>Break out and flash a momentary day,</span>
<br/>
<span>With damp, cold touch forbid it to aspire,</span>
<br/>
<span>And huddle up in fogs the dangrous fire.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oh say—she hears me not, but, careless grown,</span>
<br/>
<span>Lethargic nods upon her ebon throne.</span>
<br/>
<span>Goddess! awake, arise! alas, my fears!</span>
<br/>
<span>Can powers immortal feel the force of years?</span>
<br/>
<span>Not thus of old, with ensigns wide unfurled,</span>
<br/>
<span>She rode triumphant oer the vanquished world;</span>
<br/>
<span>Fierce nations owned her unresisted might,</span>
<br/>
<span>And all was Ignorance, and all was Night.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oh! sacred Age! Oh! Times for ever lost!</span>
<br/>
<span>(The Schoolmans glory, and the Churchmans boast.)</span>
<br/>
<span>For ever gone—yet still to Fancy new,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her rapid wings the transient scene pursue,</span>
<br/>
<span>And bring the buried ages back to view.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">High on her car, behold the grandam ride</span>
<br/>
<span>Like old Sesostris with barbaric pride;</span>
<br/>
<span>… a team of harnessed monarchs bend</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="lines-written-at-burnham" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Lines Written at Burnham</h2>
<p>
<span>And, as they bow their hoary Tops, relate</span>
<br/>
<span>In murmring Sounds the dark Decrees of Fate;</span>
<br/>
<span>While Visions, as Poetic eyes avow,</span>
<br/>
<span>Cling to each Leaf and swarm on evry Bough:</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="ode-on-the-pleasure-arising-from-vicissitude" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Ode on the Pleasure Arising from Vicissitude</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">A Fragment</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>Now the golden Morn aloft</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Waves her dew-bespangled wing,</span>
<br/>
<span>With vermeil cheek and whisper soft</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">She woos the tardy spring;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till April starts, and calls around</span>
<br/>
<span>The sleeping fragrance from the ground;</span>
<br/>
<span>And lightly oer the living scene</span>
<br/>
<span>Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>New-born flocks, in rustic dance,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Frisking ply their feeble feet;</span>
<br/>
<span>Forgetful of their wintry trance,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The birds his presence greet;</span>
<br/>
<span>But chief, the sky-lark warbles high</span>
<br/>
<span>His trembling thrilling ecstasy</span>
<br/>
<span>And, lessening from the dazzled sight,</span>
<br/>
<span>Melts into air and liquid light.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Rise, my soul! on wings of fire,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Rise the rapturous choir among;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hark! tis Nature strikes the lyre,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And leads the general song.</span>
<br/>
<span>Yesterday the sullen year</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Saw the snowy whirlwind fly;</span>
<br/>
<span>Mute was the music of the air,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The Herd stood drooping by;</span>
<br/>
<span>Their raptures now that wildly flow,</span>
<br/>
<span>No yesterday, nor morrow know;</span>
<br/>
<span>Tis man alone that joy descries</span>
<br/>
<span>With forward and reverted eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Smiles on past Misfortunes brow</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Soft Reflections hand can trace;</span>
<br/>
<span>And oer the cheek of Sorrow throw</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A melancholy grace;</span>
<br/>
<span>While Hope prolongs our happier hour,</span>
<br/>
<span>Or deepest shades, that dimly lower</span>
<br/>
<span>And blacken round our weary way,</span>
<br/>
<span>Gilds with a gleam of distant day.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Still, where rosy Pleasure leads,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">See a kindred Grief pursue;</span>
<br/>
<span>Behind the steps that Misery treads,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Approaching Comfort view;</span>
<br/>
<span>The hues of Bliss more brightly glow,</span>
<br/>
<span>Chastised by sabler tints of woe;</span>
<br/>
<span>And blended form, with artful strife,</span>
<br/>
<span>The strength and harmony of Life.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>See the Wretch, that long has tost</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">On the thorny bed of Pain,</span>
<br/>
<span>At length repair his vigour lost,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And breathe and walk again;</span>
<br/>
<span>The meanest flowret of the vale,</span>
<br/>
<span>The simplest note that swells the gale,</span>
<br/>
<span>The common Sun, the air, the skies,</span>
<br/>
<span>To him are opening Paradise.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Humble Quiet builds her cell,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Near the source whence Pleasure flows;</span>
<br/>
<span>She eyes the clear crystalline well,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And tastes it as it goes.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="gray-on-himself" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Gray on Himself</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">Written in 1761, and Found in One of His Pocketbooks</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune;</span>
<br/>
<span>He had not the method of making a fortune;</span>
<br/>
<span>Could love, and could hate, so was thought somewhat odd;</span>
<br/>
<span>No very great wit, he believed in a God.</span>
<br/>
<span>A place or a pension he did not desire,</span>
<br/>
<span>But left church and state to Charles Townshend and Squire.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="sonnet-on-the-death-of-richard-west" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Sonnet on the Death of Richard West</h2>
<p>
<span>In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire;</span>
<br/>
<span>The birds in vain their amorous descant join;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or cheerful fields resume their green attire;</span>
<br/>
<span>These ears, alas! for other notes repine,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A different object do these eyes require;</span>
<br/>
<span>My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And new-born pleasure brings to happier men;</span>
<br/>
<span>The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To warm their little loves the birds complain;</span>
<br/>
<span>I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And weep the more because I weep in vain.</span>
</p>
<footer>
<p>At Stoke, <abbr>Aug.</abbr>, 1742.</p>
</footer>
</article>
<article id="stanzas-to-mr-bentley" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Stanzas to <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Bentley</h2>
<p>
<span>In silent gaze the tuneful choir among,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Half pleased, half blushing, let the Muse admire,</span>
<br/>
<span>While Bentley leads her sister-art along,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And bids the pencil answer to the lyre.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>See, in their course, each transitory thought</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Fixed by his touch a lasting essence take;</span>
<br/>
<span>Each dream, in fancys airy colouring wrought,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To local symmetry and life awake!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>The tardy rhymes that used to linger on,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To censure cold, and negligent of fame,</span>
<br/>
<span>In swifter measures animated run,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And catch a lustre from his genuine flame.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Ah! could they catch his strength, his easy grace,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">His quick creation, his unerring line;</span>
<br/>
<span>The energy of Pope they might efface,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Drydens harmony submit to mine.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>But not to one in this benighted age</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Is that diviner inspiration given,</span>
<br/>
<span>That burns in Shakespeares or in Miltons page,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The pomp and prodigality of heaven.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>As, when conspiring in the diamonds blaze,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The meaner gems, that singly charm the sight,</span>
<br/>
<span>Together dart their intermingled rays,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And dazzle with a luxury of light.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Enough for me, if to some feeling breast</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">My lines a secret sympathy</span>
<br/>
<span>And as their pleasing influence</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A sigh of soft reflection.⁠ ⁠…</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="the-candidate" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">The Candidate</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">Or, The Cambridge Courtship</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>When sly Jemmy Twitcher had smugged up his face,</span>
<br/>
<span>With a lick of court white-wash, and pious grimace,</span>
<br/>
<span>A wooing he went, where three sisters of old</span>
<br/>
<span>In harmless society guttle and scold.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“Lord! sister,” says Physic to Law, “I declare,</span>
<br/>
<span>Such a sheep-biting look, such a pick-pocket air!</span>
<br/>
<span>Not I for the Indies!—You know Im no prude</span>
<br/>
<span>But his nose is a shame—and his eyes are so lewd!</span>
<br/>
<span>Then he shambles and straddles so oddly—I fear</span>
<br/>
<span>No—at our time of life twould be silly, my dear.”</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“I dont know,” says Law, “but methinks for his look,</span>
<br/>
<span>Tis just like the picture in Rochesters book;</span>
<br/>
<span>Then his character, <em>Phyzzy</em>—his morals—his life</span>
<br/>
<span>When she died, I cant tell—but he once had a wife.</span>
<br/>
<span>They say hes no Christian, loves drinking and whoring,</span>
<br/>
<span>And all the town rings of his swearing and roaring!</span>
<br/>
<span>And filching and lying, and Newgate-bird tricks;⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>Not I—for a coronet, chariot and six.”</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Divinity heard, between waking and dozing,</span>
<br/>
<span>Her sisters denying, and Jemmy proposing;</span>
<br/>
<span>From table she rose, and with bumper in hand,</span>
<br/>
<span>She stroked up her belly, and stroked down her band</span>
<br/>
<span>“What a pother is here about wenching and roaring!</span>
<br/>
<span>Why, David loved catches, and Solomon whoring;</span>
<br/>
<span>Did not Israel filch from the Egyptians of old</span>
<br/>
<span>Their jewels of silver and jewels of gold?</span>
<br/>
<span>The prophet of Bethel, we read, told a lie;</span>
<br/>
<span>He drinks—so did Noah;—he swears—so do I;</span>
<br/>
<span>To reject him for such peccadillos, were odd;</span>
<br/>
<span>Besides, he repents—for he talks about God</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">To Jemmy:⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>Never hang down your head, your poor penitent elf,</span>
<br/>
<span>Come buss me—Ill be <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> <em>Twitcher</em> myself.</span>
<br/>
<span>Damn ye both for a couple of Puritan bitches!</span>
<br/>
<span>Hes Christian enough that repents and that stitches.”</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="impromptu-suggested-by-a-view" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Impromptu</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">Suggested by a View, in 1766, of the Seat and Ruins of a Deceased Nobleman, at Kingsgate, Kent</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>Old, and abandoned by each venal friend,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Here Holland formed the pious resolution</span>
<br/>
<span>To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">A broken character and constitution.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>On this congenial spot he fixed his choice;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring sand;</span>
<br/>
<span>Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And mariners, though shipwrecked, dread to land.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Here reign the blustering North and blighting East,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing;</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet Nature could not furnish out the feast,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Art he invokes new horrors still to bring.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Here mouldering fanes and battlements arise,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Turrets and arches nodding to their fall,</span>
<br/>
<span>Unpeopled monastries delude our eyes,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And mimic desolation covers all.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>“Ah!” said the sighing peer, “had Bute been true,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor Mungos, Rigbys, Bradshaws friendship vain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Far better scenes than these had blest our view,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And realised the beauties which we feign;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Purged by the sword, and purified by fire,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Then had we seen proud Londons hated walls;</span>
<br/>
<span>Owls would have hooted in <abbr>St.</abbr> Peters choir,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And foxes stunk and littered in <abbr>St.</abbr> Pauls.”</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="tophet" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Tophet</h2>
<p>
<span>Thus Etough looked; so grinned the brawling fiend,</span>
<br/>
<span>While frighted prelates bowed and called him friend;</span>
<br/>
<span>I saw them bow, and while they wished him dead,</span>
<br/>
<span>With servile simper nod the mitred head.</span>
<br/>
<span>Our mother-church, with half-averted sight,</span>
<br/>
<span>Blushed as she blessed her grisly proselyte;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hosannas rung through hells tremendous borders,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Satans self had thoughts of taking orders.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="song" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Song</h2>
<p>
<span>Thyrsis, when we parted, swore</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ere the spring he would return</span>
<br/>
<span>Ah! what means yon violet flower!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And the buds that deck the thorn!</span>
<br/>
<span>Twas the lark that upward sprung!</span>
<br/>
<span>Twas the nightingale that sung!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Idle notes! untimely green!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Why this unavailing haste?</span>
<br/>
<span>Western gales and skies serene</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Speak not always winter past.</span>
<br/>
<span>Cease, my doubts, my fears to move,</span>
<br/>
<span>Spare the honour of my love.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="epitaph-on-mrs-mason" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Epitaph on <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Mason</h2>
<p>
<span>Tell them, though tis an awful thing to die,</span>
<br/>
<span>Twas een to thee, yet, the dread path once trod,</span>
<br/>
<span>Heaven lifts its everlasting portals high,</span>
<br/>
<span>And bids the pure in heart behold their God.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="amatory-lines" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Amatory Lines</h2>
<p>
<span>With beauty, with pleasure surrounded, to languish</span>
<br/>
<span>To weep without knowing the cause of my anguish;</span>
<br/>
<span>To start from short slumbers, and wish for the morning</span>
<br/>
<span>To close my dull eyes when I see it returning;</span>
<br/>
<span>Sighs sudden and frequent, looks ever dejected</span>
<br/>
<span>Words that steal from my tongue, by no meaning connected!</span>
<br/>
<span>Ah! say, fellow-swains, how these symptoms befell me?</span>
<br/>
<span>They smile, but reply not—Sure Delia will tell me!</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="comic-lines" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Comic Lines</h2>
<p>
<span>Weddell attends your call, and Palgrave proud,</span>
<br/>
<span>Stonehewer the lewd, and Delaval the loud.</span>
<br/>
<span>For thee does Powell squeeze, and Marriot sputter,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Glynn cut phizzes, and Tom Neville stutter.</span>
<br/>
<span>Brown sees thee sitting on his noses tip,</span>
<br/>
<span>The Widow feels thee in her aching hip;</span>
<br/>
<span>For thee fat Nanny sighs, and handy Nelly,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Balguy with a bishop in his belly.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="verses-from-shakespeare" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Verses from Shakespeare</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">To <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Anne, Regular Servant to the <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Rev.</abbr> <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Precentor of York</p>
</hgroup>
<br/>
<p>
<span>A moments patience, gentle Mistress Anne;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">(But stint your clack for sweet <abbr>St.</abbr> Charitie)</span>
<br/>
<span>Tis Willy begs, once a right proper man,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Though now a book, and interleaved you see.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Much have I borne from cankered critics spite,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">From fumbling baronets and poets small,</span>
<br/>
<span>Pert barristers, and parsons nothing bright,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But what awaits me now is worst of all.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Tis true, our masters temper natural</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Was fashioned fair in meek and dove-like guise;</span>
<br/>
<span>But may not honeys self be turned to gall</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">By residence, by marriage, and sore eyes?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>If then he wreak on me his wicked will;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Steal to his closet at the hour of prayer;</span>
<br/>
<span>And (when thou hearst the organ piping shrill)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Grease his best pen, and all he scribbles, tear.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Better to bottom tarts and cheesecakes nice,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Better the roast meat from the fire to save,</span>
<br/>
<span>Better be twisted into caps for spice,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Than thus be patched and cobbled in ones grave.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>So York shall taste what Clouet never knew,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">So from our works sublimer fumes shall rise;</span>
<br/>
<span>While Nancy earns the praise to Shakespeare due,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">For glorious puddings and immortal pies.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="epitaph-on-a-child" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Epitaph on a Child</h2>
<p>
<span>Here freed from pain, secure from misery, lies</span>
<br/>
<span>A Child, the darling of his parents eyes;</span>
<br/>
<span>A gentler lamb neer sported on the plain,</span>
<br/>
<span>A fairer flower will never bloom again!</span>
<br/>
<span>Few were the days allotted to his breath;</span>
<br/>
<span>Here let him sleep in peace his night of death.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="satire-on-the-heads-of-houses" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Satire on the Heads of Houses</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">Or, Never a Barrel the Better Herring</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>O Cambridge, attend</span>
<br/>
<span>To the Satire Ive penned</span>
<br/>
<span>On the Heads of thy Houses,</span>
<br/>
<span>Thou Seat of the Muses!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Know the Master of Jesus</span>
<br/>
<span>Does hugely displease us;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Maudlin</span>
<br/>
<span>In the same dirt is dawdling;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Sidney</span>
<br/>
<span>Is of the same kidney;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Trinity</span>
<br/>
<span>To him bears affinity;</span>
<br/>
<span>As the Master of Keys</span>
<br/>
<span>Is as like as two peas,</span>
<br/>
<span>So the Master of Queens</span>
<br/>
<span>Is as like as two beans;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Kings</span>
<br/>
<span>Copies them in all things;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Catherine</span>
<br/>
<span>Takes them all for his pattern;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Clare</span>
<br/>
<span>Hits them all to a hair;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Christ</span>
<br/>
<span>By the rest is enticed;</span>
<br/>
<span>But the Master of Emmanuel</span>
<br/>
<span>Follows them like a spaniel;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Benet</span>
<br/>
<span>Is of the like tenet;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Pembroke</span>
<br/>
<span>Has from them his system took;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of Peters</span>
<br/>
<span>Has all the same features;</span>
<br/>
<span>The Master of <abbr>St.</abbr> Johns</span>
<br/>
<span>Like the rest of the Dons.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>As to Trinity Hall</span>
<br/>
<span>We say nothing at all.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="impromptus" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Impromptus</h2>
<div>
<header>
<p>Impromptu by Gray on Going Out of Raby Castle, After Dining with Harry Vane.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Here lives Harry Vane,</span>
<br/>
<span>Very good claret and fine champaign.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Epigrams on <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Keene, Bishop of Chester.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>The Bishop of Chester,</span>
<br/>
<span>Though wiser than Nestor</span>
<br/>
<span>And fairer than Esther,</span>
<br/>
<span>If you scratch him will fester.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Here lies Edmund Keene Lord Bishop of Chester,</span>
<br/>
<span>He eat a fat goose, and could not digest her.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Here lies <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Keene the she Bishop of Chester,</span>
<br/>
<span>She had a bad face which did sadly molest her.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Parody on an Epitaph.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Now clean, now hideous, mellow now, now gruff,</span>
<br/>
<span>She swept, she hissed, she ripened and grew rough,</span>
<br/>
<span>At Brougham, Pendragon, Appleby and Brough.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>A Couplet on Dining.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>When you rise from your dinner as light as before,</span>
<br/>
<span>Tis a sign you have eat just enough and no more.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Couplet About Birds.</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>There pipes the woodlark, and the song-thrush there</span>
<br/>
<span>Scatters his loose notes in the waste of air.</span>
</p>
</div>
</article>
<article id="lines-on-dr-robert-smith" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<hgroup>
<h2 epub:type="title">Lines</h2>
<p epub:type="subtitle">On <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Robert Smith</p>
</hgroup>
<p>
<span>Do you ask why old Focus Silvanus defies,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And leaves not a chestnut in being?</span>
<br/>
<span>Tis not that old Focus himself has got eyes,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But because he has writ about seeing.</span>
</p>
</article>
<article id="lines-spoken-by-the-ghost-of-john-dennis" epub:type="z3998:poem bodymatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Lines Spoken by the Ghost of John Dennis at the Devil Tavern</h2>
<p>
<span class="i1">From purling Streams &amp; the Elysian Scene,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">From Groves, that smile with never-fading Green</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">I reascend; in Atropos despight</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Restored to Celadon, &amp; upper light:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Ye gods, that sway the Regions under ground,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Reveal to mortal View your realms profound;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">At his command admit the eye of Day;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">When Celadon commands, what God can disobey?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nor seeks he your Tartarean fires to know,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The house of Torture, &amp; th Abyss of Woe;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But happy fields &amp; Mansions free from Pain,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Gay Meads, &amp; springing flowers best please the gentle Swain:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">That little, naked, melancholy thing</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">My Soul, when first she tryed her flight to wing;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Began with speed new Regions to explore,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And blunderd thro a narrow Postern door;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">First most devoutly having said its Prayers,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">It tumbled down a thousand pair of Stairs,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Thro Entries long, thro Cellars vast &amp; deep,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where ghostly Rats their habitations keep,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where Spiders spread their Webs, &amp; owlish Goblins sleep.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">After so many Chances had befell,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">It came into a mead of Asphodel:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Betwixt the Confines of the light &amp; dark</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">It lies, of Lyzium the <abbr>St.</abbr> Jamess Park:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Here Spirit-Beaux flutter along the Mall,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Shadows in disguise scate oer the Iced Canal:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Here groves embowerd, &amp; more sequesterd Shades,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Frequented by the Ghosts of Ancient Maids,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Are seen to rise: the melancholy Scene</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With gloomy haunts, &amp; twilight walks between</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Conceals the wayward band: here spend their time</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Greensickness Girls, that died in youthful prime,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Virgins forlorn, all drest in Willow-green-i</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With Queen Elizabeth and Nicolini.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">More to reveal, or many words to use</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Would tire alike your patience &amp; my muse.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Believe, that never was so faithful found</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Queen Proserpine to Pluto under ground,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Or Cleopatra to her Mark-Antony</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">As Orozmades to his Celadony.</span>
<br/>
<span>
<abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">P.S.</abbr>
</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Lucrece for half a crown will show you fun,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Oldfield is become a Nun.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Nobles &amp; Cits, Prince Pluto &amp; his Spouse</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Flock to the Ghost of Covent-Garden house:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Plays, which were hissd above, below revive;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">When dead applauded, that were damnd alive:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The People, as in life, still keep their Passions,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">But differ something from the world in Fashions.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Queen Artemisia breakfasts on Bohea,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And Alexander wears a Ramilie.</span>
</p>
</article>
<section id="endnotes" epub:type="endnotes backmatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Endnotes</h2>
<ol>
<li id="note-1" epub:type="endnote">
<p>King Henry the Sixth, Founder of the College. <a href="#noteref-1" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-2" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“And bees their honey redolent of spring.”</p>
<cite>Drydens “<span epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Fable on the Pythagorean System</span></cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-2" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-3" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Madness laughing in his ireful mood.”</p>
<cite>Drydens “<span epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Fable of Palamon and Arcite</span>,” <span epub:type="z3998:roman">II</span> 43.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-3" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-4" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>—a bank</span>
<br/>
<span>Oercanopied with luscious woodbine.”</span>
</p>
<cite>—⁠<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Midsummer Nights Dream</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">II</span> 2.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-4" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-5" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Nare per sestatem liquidam.”</p>
<cite>Virgil, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Georgic</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">IV</span> 59.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-5" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-6" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>“… sporting with quick glance</span>
<br/>
<span>Show to the sun their waved coats dropped with gold.”</span>
</p>
<cite>—⁠<i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem"><abbr>Par.</abbr> Lost</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">VII</span> 405.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-6" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-7" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“While insects from the threshold preach,” <abbr class="eoc">etc.</abbr></p>
<cite>—⁠<abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">M.</abbr> Green, in <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">The Grotto</i>. Dodsleys <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Miscellanies</i>, <span>v</span> 161.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-7" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-8" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p lang="it" xml:lang="it">
<span>“… squilla di lontano</span>
<br/>
<span>Che paia l giorno pianger, che si muore.”</span>
</p>
<cite>Dante, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Purgat</i>. <abbr>l.</abbr> 8.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-8" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-9" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p lang="it" xml:lang="it">
<span>“Ch i veggio nel pensier, dolce mio fuoco,</span>
<br/>
<span>Fredda una lingua, e due begli occhi chiusi</span>
<br/>
<span>Rimaner doppo noi pien di faville.”</span>
</p>
<cite>Petrarch, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book"><abbr>Son.</abbr></i> 169.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-9" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-10" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="it" xml:lang="it">“… paventosa speme.”</p>
<cite>Petrarch, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book"><abbr>Son.</abbr></i> 114.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-10" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-11" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Hatton, preferred by Queen Elizabeth for his graceful person and fine dancing. <a href="#noteref-11" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-12" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The Housekeeper. <a href="#noteref-12" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-13" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Groom of the Chambers. <a href="#noteref-13" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-14" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The Steward. <a href="#noteref-14" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-15" epub:type="endnote">
<p>A famous highwayman hanged the week before. <a href="#noteref-15" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-16" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Mocking the air with colours idly spread.”</p>
<cite>Shakespeares <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">King John</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">V</span> 1.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-16" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-17" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The hauberk was a texture of steel ringlets, or rings interwoven, forming a coat of mail, that sat close to the body, and adapted itself to every motion. <a href="#noteref-17" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-18" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“The crested adders pride.”</p>
<cite>Dryden, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Indian Queen</i>.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-18" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-19" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Snowdon was a name given by the Saxons to that mountainous tract which the Welsh themselves call <i lang="cy" xml:lang="cy">Craigian-eryri</i>; it included all the highlands of Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire, as far east as the river Conway. <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">R.</abbr> Hygden, speaking of the castle of Conway built by King Edward the First, says, “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ad ortum amnis Conway ad clivum montis Erery</i>;” and Matthew of Westminster (ad <abbr lang="la" xml:lang="la">ann.</abbr> 1283), “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Apud Aberconway ad pedes montis Snowdoniae fecit erigi castrum forte.</i><a href="#noteref-19" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-20" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Gilbert de Clare, surnamed the Red, Earl of Gloucester and Hertford, son-in-law to King Edward. <a href="#noteref-20" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-21" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Edmond de Mortimer, Lord of Wigmore. They both were <em>Lords-Marchers</em>, whose lands lay on the borders of Wales, and probably accompanied the king in this expedition. <a href="#noteref-21" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-22" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The image was taken from a well-known picture of Raphael, representing the Supreme Being in the vision of Ezekiel. There are two of these paintings (both believed original), one at Florence, the other at Paris. <a href="#noteref-22" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-23" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Shone, like a meteor, streaming to the wind.”</p>
<cite>Miltons <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Paradise Lost</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">I</span> 537.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-23" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-24" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The shores of Caernarvonshire opposite to the isle of Anglesey. <a href="#noteref-24" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-25" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Cambden and others observe, that eagles used annually to build their aerie among the rocks of Snowdon, which from thence (as some think) were named by the Welsh <i lang="cy" xml:lang="cy">Craigian eryri</i>, or the crags of the eagles. At this day (I am told) the highest point of Snowdon is called <em>the eagles nest</em>. That bird is certainly no stranger to this island, as the Scots, and the people of Cumberland, Westmoreland, <abbr>etc.</abbr>, can testify; it even has built its nest in the Peak of Derbyshire. (See Willoughbys <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book"><abbr>Ornithol.</abbr></i>, published by Ray.) <a href="#noteref-25" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-26" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>“As dear to me as are the ruddy drops</span>
<br/>
<span>That visit my sad heart.”</span>
</p>
<cite>—⁠<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Julius Caesar</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">II</span> 1.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-26" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-27" epub:type="endnote">
<p>See “<span epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">The Fatal Sisters</span>.” <a href="#noteref-27" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-28" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Edward the Second, cruelly butchered in Berkley-Castle. <a href="#noteref-28" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-29" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Isabel of France, Edward the Seconds adulterous Queen. <a href="#noteref-29" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-30" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Triumphs of Edward the Third in France. <a href="#noteref-30" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-31" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Death of that King, abandoned by his Children, and even robbed in his last moments by his Courtiers and his Mistress. <a href="#noteref-31" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-32" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Edward, the Black Prince, dead some time before his Father. <a href="#noteref-32" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-33" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Magnificence of Richard the Seconds reign. See Froissard and other contemporary writers. <a href="#noteref-33" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-34" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Richard the Second (as we are told by Archbishop Scroop, and the confederate Lords in their manifesto, by Thomas of Walsingham, and all the older Writers) was starved to death. The story of his assassination by Sir Piers of Exon, is of much later date. <a href="#noteref-34" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-35" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Ruinous civil wars of York and Lancaster. <a href="#noteref-35" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-36" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Henry the Sixth, George Duke of Clarence, Edward the Fifth, Richard Duke of York, <abbr>etc.</abbr>, believed to be murthered secretly in the Tower of London. The oldest part of that structure is vulgarly attributed to Julius Caesar. <a href="#noteref-36" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-37" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Margaret of Anjou, a woman of heroic spirit, who struggled hard to save her Husband and her Crown. <a href="#noteref-37" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-38" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Henry the Fifth. <a href="#noteref-38" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-39" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Henry the Sixth very near being canonized. The line of Lancaster had no right of inheritance to the Crown. <a href="#noteref-39" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-40" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The white and red roses, devices of York and Lancaster. <a href="#noteref-40" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-41" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The silver Boar was the badge of Richard the Third; whence he was usually known in his own time by the name of <em>the Boar</em>. <a href="#noteref-41" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-42" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Eleanor of Castile died a few years after the conquest of Wales. The heroic proof she gave of her affection for her Lord is well known. The monuments of his regret and sorrow for the loss of her, are still to be seen at Northampton, Geddington, Waltham, and other places. <a href="#noteref-42" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-43" epub:type="endnote">
<p>It was the common belief of the Welsh nation, that King Arthur was still alive in Fairyland, and should return again to reign over Britain. <a href="#noteref-43" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-44" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Accession of the Line of Tudor. Both Merlin and Taliessin had prophesied, that the Welsh should regain their sovereignty over this island; which seemed to be accomplished in the House of Tudor. <a href="#noteref-44" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-45" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Speed, relating an audience given by Queen Elizabeth to Paul Dzialinski, ambassador of Poland, says: “And thus she, lion-like rising, daunted the malapert Orator no less with her stately port and majestical deporture, than with the tartness of her princely cheeks.” <a href="#noteref-45" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-46" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Taliessin, Chief of the Bards, flourished in the <span epub:type="z3998:roman">VI</span> Century. His works are still preserved, and his memory held in high veneration among his countrymen. <a href="#noteref-46" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-47" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Fierce wars and faithful loves shall moralize my song.”</p>
<cite>Spenser, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Proeme to the Fairy Queen</i>.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-47" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-48" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Shakespeare. <a href="#noteref-48" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-49" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Milton. <a href="#noteref-49" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-50" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The succession of Poets after Miltons time. <a href="#noteref-50" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-51" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Awake, my glory; awake, lute and harp.”</p>
<cite>Davids <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Psalms</i>.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>Pindar styles his own poetry, with its musical accompaniments, <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αἰοληίς μολπὴ, Αἰολίδες χορδαὶ, Αἰολίδων πνοαὶ αὐλῶν</i>, Aeolian song, Aeolian strings, the breath of the Aeolian flute.</p>
<p>The subject and simile, as usual with Pindar, are united. The various sources of poetry, which gives life and lustre to all it touches, are here described; its quiet majestic progress enriching every subject (otherwise dry and barren) with a pomp of diction and luxuriant harmony of numbers; and its more rapid and irresistible course, when swollen and hurried away by the conflict of tumultuous passions. <a href="#noteref-51" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-52" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Power of harmony to calm the turbulent sallies of the soul. The thoughts are borrowed from the first <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Pythian</i> of Pindar. <a href="#noteref-52" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-53" epub:type="endnote">
<p>This is a weak imitation of some incomparable lines in the same Ode. <a href="#noteref-53" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-54" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Power of harmony to produce all the graces of motion in the body. <a href="#noteref-54" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-55" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μαρμαρυγὰς θηεῖτο ποδων· θαύμαζε δὲ θυμῷ.</p>
<cite>Homer, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem"><abbr>Od.</abbr></i> <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Θ</i> 265.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-55" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-56" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">
<span>Λάμπει δ’ ἐπὶ πορφυρέησί</span>
<br/>
<span>Παρείησι φῶς ἕρωτος.</span>
</p>
<cite>Phrynichus, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">apud Athenaeum</i>.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-56" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-57" epub:type="endnote">
<p>To compensate the real and imaginary ills of life, the Muse was given to mankind by the same Providence that sends the day, by its cheerful presence, to dispel the gloom and terrors of the night. <a href="#noteref-57" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-58" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>“Or seen the Mornings well-appointed Star</span>
<br/>
<span>Come marching up the eastern hills afar.”</span>
</p>
<cite>Cowley.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-58" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-59" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Extensive influence of poetic genius over the remotest and most uncivilized nations: its connection with liberty, and the virtues that naturally attend on it. (See the Erse, Norwegian, and Welsh fragments, the Lapland and American songs.) <a href="#noteref-59" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-60" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Extra anni solisque vias.”</p>
<cite>Virgil, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Aeneid</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">VI</span> 795.</cite>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<p lang="it" xml:lang="it">“Tutta lontana dal camin del sole.”</p>
<cite>Petrarch, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Canzon</i>, 2.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-60" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-61" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Progress of Poetry from Greece to Italy, and from Italy to England. Chaucer was not unacquainted with the writings of Dante or of Petrarch. The Earl of Surrey and Sir Thomas Wyatt had travelled in Italy, and formed their taste there. Spenser imitated the Italian writers; Milton improved on them; but this school expired soon after the Restoration, and a new one arose on the French model, which has subsisted ever since. <a href="#noteref-61" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-62" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Shakespeare. <a href="#noteref-62" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-63" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Milton. <a href="#noteref-63" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-64" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Flammantia moenia mundi.”</p>
<cite>Lucretius, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">I</span> 74.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-64" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-65" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“For the spirit of the living creature was in the wheels… And above the firmament, that was over their heads, was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone… This was the appearance of the glory of the Lord.”</p>
<cite>Ezekiel, 1:20, 26, 28.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-65" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-66" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">“Οφθαλμῶν μἐν ἄμερσε· δίδου δ” ἠδεῖαν ἀοιδήν.</p>
<cite>—⁠<abbr epub:type="z3998:personal-name">Hom.</abbr> <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Odyssey</i>, <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Θ</i> 64.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-66" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-67" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Meant to express the stately march and sounding energy of Drydens rhimes. <a href="#noteref-67" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-68" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?”</p>
<cite>Job 39:19.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-68" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-69" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“Words, that weep, and tears, that speak.”</p>
<cite>Cowley.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-69" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-70" epub:type="endnote">
<p>We have had in our language no other odes of the sublime kind, than that of Dryden on <abbr>St.</abbr> Cecilias Day; for Cowley (who had his merit) yet wanted judgment, style, and harmony, for such a task. That of Pope is not worthy of so great a man. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Mason indeed of late days has touched the true chords, and with a masterly hand, in some of his Choruses—above all in the last of <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Caractacus</i>: Hark! heard ye not yon footstep dread? <abbr>etc.</abbr> <a href="#noteref-70" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-71" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Διὸς πρὸς ὄρνιχα θεῖον</p>
<cite>—⁠<i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Olymp</i>. <span epub:type="z3998:roman">II</span></cite>
</blockquote>
<p>Pindar compares himself to that bird, and his enemies to ravens that croak and clamour in vain below, while it pursues its flight, regardless of their noise. <a href="#noteref-71" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-72" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothic nations, consisted of nine worlds, to which were devoted all such as died of sickness, old-age, or by any other means than in battle. Over it presided Hela, the Goddess of Death. <a href="#noteref-72" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-73" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Lok is the evil Being, who continues in chains till the Twilight of the Gods approaches, when he shall break his bonds; the human race, the stars, and sun, shall disappear; the earth sink in the seas, and fire consume the skies; even Odin himself and his kindred-deities shall perish. For a further explanation of this mythology, see Mallets <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Introduction to the History of Denmark</i>, 1755, quarto. <a href="#noteref-73" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-74" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The Valkyriur were female Divinities, servants of Odin (or Woden), in the Gothic mythology. Their name signifies “choosers of the slain.” They were mounted on swift horses, with drawn swords in their hands; and in the throng of battle selected such as were destined to slaughter, and conducted them to Valhalla, the hall of Odin, or paradise of the Brave; where they attended the banquet, and served the departed Heroes with horns of mead and ale. <a href="#noteref-74" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-75" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>“How quick they wheeled, and, flying, behind them shot</span>
<br/>
<span>Sharp sleet of arrowy showers.”</span>
</p>
<cite>Miltons <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Par. Regained</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">III</span> 323, 324.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-75" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
<li id="note-76" epub:type="endnote">
<blockquote>
<p>“The noise of battle hurtled in the air.”</p>
<cite>Shakespeare, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Julius Caesar</i>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">II</span> 2.</cite>
</blockquote>
<p>
<a href="#noteref-76" epub:type="backlink"></a>
</p>
</li>
</ol>
</section>
<section id="colophon" epub:type="colophon backmatter">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title">Colophon</h2>
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epub:type="z3998:publisher-logo se:image.color-depth.black-on-transparent"/>
</header>
<p><i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Poetry</i><br/>
includes poems first published between <time>1747</time> and <time>1915</time> by<br/>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Gray">Thomas Gray</a>.</p>
<p>This ebook was produced for<br/>
<a href="https://standardebooks.org/">Standard Ebooks</a><br/>
by<br/>
<b epub:type="z3998:personal-name">Harry Lund</b>,<br/>
and is based on transcriptions from<br/>
<a href="https://standardebooks.org/ebooks/thomas-gray/poetry#transcriptions">various sources</a><br/>
and on digital scans from<br/>
<a href="https://standardebooks.org/ebooks/thomas-gray/poetry#page-scans">various sources</a>.</p>
<p>The cover page is adapted from<br/>
<i epub:type="se:name.visual-art.painting">Thomas Gray</i>,<br/>
a painting completed between <time>1747</time> and <time>1748</time> by<br/>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Giles_Eccardt">John Giles Eccart</a>.<br/>
The cover and title pages feature the<br/>
<b epub:type="se:name.visual-art.typeface">League Spartan</b> and <b epub:type="se:name.visual-art.typeface">Sorts Mill Goudy</b><br/>
typefaces created in <time>2014</time> and <time>2009</time> by<br/>
<a href="https://www.theleagueofmoveabletype.com/">The League of Moveable Type</a>.</p>
<p>The first edition of this ebook was released on<br/>
<time datetime="2024-12-10T19:02:54Z">December 10, 2024, 7:02 <abbr class="eoc">p.m.</abbr></time><br/>
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at<br/>
<a href="https://standardebooks.org/ebooks/thomas-gray/poetry">standardebooks.org/ebooks/thomas-gray/poetry</a>.</p>
<p>The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at <a href="https://standardebooks.org/">standardebooks.org</a>.</p>
</section>
<section id="uncopyright" epub:type="copyright-page backmatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Uncopyright</h2>
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>May you do good and not evil.</span>
<br/>
<span>May you find forgiveness for yourself and forgive others.</span>
<br/>
<span>May you share freely, never taking more than you give.</span>
</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Copyright pages exist to tell you that you <em>cant</em> do something. Unlike them, this Uncopyright page exists to tell you that the writing and artwork in this ebook are believed to be in the United States public domain; that is, they are believed to be free of copyright restrictions in the United States. The United States public domain represents our collective cultural heritage, and items in it are free for anyone in the United States to do almost anything at all with, without having to get permission.</p>
<p>Copyright laws are different all over the world, and the source text or artwork in this ebook may still be copyrighted in other countries. If youre not located in the United States, you must check your local laws before using this ebook. Standard Ebooks makes no representations regarding the copyright status of the source text or artwork in this ebook in any country other than the United States.</p>
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