43Ci 



Original Pietry. 



[Dec. 1, 



So may your v'nes in cluftered pride 

 Pour in full llre^iiis their purple tide. 



Nor e'er amidit your favour'd bounds 

 Tlie Earthquaice walk 'his wafteful rounds, 

 Which now the trembling wretch deplores 

 On fad Calabria's altered fhores. 



R. 



lINKt WKITTEN IN A BLANK LIAF OT 



STR ANCf ORd'e TF A N S I-ATION S mOM 

 CAIiJOEMS. 



o 



THOU to whom the ftrains are dear 

 By Fancy pour'd at Feeling's Ihrine ; 

 Whofe heart is true to paffion's tear, 



Whofe brows, the wreaths of fong en- 

 twine : 



Come, hail with me the gleams of joy 

 That brighten round the poet's head ; 



With me the vocal ftiell employ, 



To mourn the gloom that wraps his bed. 



Haft thou not own'd, in paflion's trance. 

 The pow'r tkat dwells in beauty's figh ; 



Huing on the charm of beauty's glance. 

 And fhar'd the blifs of beauty's eye ? 



Then turn'd in penfjve ftep away. 



With charter thoughts to virtue given; 



With all of Love's diviner fway, 

 With vows of purer life to heaven ? 



Come, hail with me the gleams of joy 

 That brighten round the Poet's head j 



With me the vocal fliell employ. 



To mourn the gloom that wraps his bed. 



By Valour's fpell the forms Ihall crowd. 

 So wont his bolder tones to hear ; 



The din of war (ball murmur loud. 



And bright ftall gleam the threatening 

 fpear. 



Fo» he who breath'd the fweeteft (hell 

 Could rife to Valour's loftier flrjin ; 



Could bid the breeze of battle fwell. 

 And brave the toils of danger's plain. 



Come, Beauty, ftied the tear for him 

 V/ho tun'd for thee his lilver lyre; 



The heart is cold, the eye is dim, 



That throbb'd to love, that heam'd with 

 fire. 



But oh ! thou dream of pale diftrcfs, 

 That frown'd upon his parting foul ; 



Dfeg'd his laft cup with wretchednVjs, 

 And bade Defpair's I5w thunder roll j 



Hide from foft Beauty's gaze thy form, 

 Nor rife to wound the feeling breaft; 



Nor chill wi'h fepr the accents warm 

 That bid bis patted fpirit reft! 



Birmingham, J. 



THE HOLY MAN. 



A PORTRAIT. 



JN days wTien blythe my childhood ran, 



I knew him well, the Holy Man; 

 Ereft his form, tho' Time had (hed 

 Some fnows upon the reverend head. 

 Youth lent his cheek its livelieft hue. 

 And lighted ftill his eyes of blue ; 

 Thence off would fportive fancy peep. 

 With mirth that fills the furrow deep ; 

 And oft the guilelcfs lips between 

 Tiie thought in lamlient fmiles was feen. 

 His voice fuch mul'ic could impart 

 As calms and cheers the troubl'd heart; 

 Even ere his fooiiving ftrain began. 

 He breath'd of peace— the Holy Man ! 

 In no rude ifle — no lonely wood. 

 His pa'riarchal dwelling ftood. 

 In no wild glen ; the vale was ftUl, 

 Beneath the flope of flieltering hill j 

 Alone the flail was heard in air. 

 Or fabbath bell that chimed to prayer. 

 There rofe his chimney, dimly feen. 

 Behind its lattice-work of green. 

 There open ftood the fimple door. 

 Haunt of the mourner and the poot. 

 Haunt of the happy— home of reft. 

 Even of the care-worn ftranger bleft ! 

 Himhail'd the fon, with cordial rr>ien ; 

 Him footbM the daughter's fmile ferene; 

 And him carefs'd the playful boy, 

 (Delight of all, the common joy !) 

 He to the grandfire's charmed ear 

 Oft breath'd his little lifped prayer j 

 And oft the hair of filv'ry hue 

 With wily urchin finger drew; 

 Tiien feigning fear the culprit ran— 

 For well he knew the Holy Man. 



Oh ! not in cheerlefs hermitage 



Trimm'd he the glimmering lamp of Age," 



From him had years no power to fteal 



Man's deareft privilege — to feel. 



Still might the lover, unrepruv'd, 



With rapture paint the fole belov'd ; 



And ftill the fcattul maid impart 



The forrows of a confcious heart: 



Such rapture once his youth had known. 



Such lorrows haply were his own ; 



Time had but (laclt'd ihe thrilling chord; 



Refporfive to the b fom's lord. 



O Memory ! let me iong retrace 



The lov'd expreflion of his face, 



When o'er tiiehiftoric page unroll'd. 



He muf'd on days and aeeds of old: 



On fceptres now oblivion's prey. 



And empires vanUhcd away. 



But wnen he breath'd tie patriot's name 



He kirdl'd with the facred flame. 



And eyes ih:,'. bcam'd through tears confefs'd 



The tri'ilpotls of a kindred breaft. 



Sweet was his fmile at early morn. 



O'er the fair blofibm newly born ; 



Or 



