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O F T H E

ENGLISH POETS.

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lOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL,

BY SAMUEL JOHNSON.

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»ODSLEY, H. BALDWIN, J. ROBSON, C.DILLY, T. CADELL,

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> WHiTAKER, W. FOX, C.STALKER, E. NEWBERY. J79O.

THE

SEVENTY-FIRST VOLUME

O F T H E

ENGLISH POETS;

CONTAINING

ARMSTRONG and LANGHORNE.

Vol. LXXI.

i

THE ART

PRESERVING HEALTH, 1744

BOOK I.

A I R,

DAUGHTER of PtEon, queen of every joy, H Y G E I A *; whofe indulgent fmlle fuftains The various race luxuriant nature pours. And on th' immortal effences beftows Immortal youth; aufpicious, O defcend ! j

Thou chearful guardian of the rolling year. Whether thou wanton'ft on the weftern gale. Or fliak'ft the rigid pinions of the north, DifFufeft life and vigour through the trafls Of air, through earth, and ocean's deep domain, 10 When through the blue ferenity of heavea Thy power approaches, all the vvafteful hod Of Pain and Sicknefs, fqualid and deform'd. Confounded fink into the loathfome gloom,

* Hygeia, the goddefs of health, was, according to the genealogy of the heathen deities, the daughter of /Efculapius j who, as well as Apollo, was diftinguiflied by the name of Pa;on.

B 2 Where

4 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Where in deep Erebus involv'd the Fiends i j;

Grow more profane. Whatever fhapes of death.

Shook from the hideous chambers of the globe.

Swarm thro' the (hudd'ring air: whatever plagues

Or meagre famine breeds, or with flow wings

Rife from the putrid watry element, 20

The damp wafte foreft, motionlefs and rank.

That fmothers earth and all the breathlefs winds.

Or the vile carnage of th' inhuman field ;

Whatever baneful breathes the rotten fouth;

Whatever ills th' extremes or fudden change 2^

Of cold and hot, or moift and dry produce;

They fly thy pure effulgence : they and all

The fecret poifons of avenging heaven.

And all the pale tribes halting in the train

Of Vice and heedlefs Pleafure : or if aught 30

The comet's glare amid the burning fky.

Mournful eclipfe, or planets ill-combin'd

Portend difaftrous to the vital world j

Thy falutary power averts their rage.

Averts the general bane : and but for thee 3^

Nature would ficken, nature foon would die.

Without thy chearful adive energy No rapture fwells the breaft, no Poet fings. No more the maids of Helicon delight. Come then with me, O Goddefs heavenly gay! 40 Begin the fong; and let it fweetlyflow. And let it wifely teach thy wholefome laws : ♦♦ How beft the fickle fabrick to fupport ♦« Of mortal man; in healthful body how

♦• A healthful

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 5

«' A healthful mind the longeft to maintain." 4-

'Tis hard, in fuch a ftrife of rules, to chufe

The beft, and thofe of moft extenfive ufc ;

Harder in clear and animated fong

Dry philofophic precepts to convey.

Yet with thy aid the fecret wilds I trace ^o

Of nature, and with daring fteps proceed

Through paths the mufes never trod before.

Nor fliould I wander doubtful of my way. Had I the lights of that fagacious mind Which taught to check the peftilential fire, ^^

And quell the deadly Python of the Nile. O thou belov'd by all the graceful arts. Thou Igng the fav'rite of the healing powers. Indulge, O Mead ! a well-defign'd eflay, Howe'er imperfedl: and permit that I 60

My little knowledge with my country {hare. Till you the rich Afclepian ftores unlock. And with new graces dignify the theme.

YE who amid this feverifh world would wear A body free of pain, of cares a mind; 6^

Fly the rank city, Ihun its turbid air ; Breathe not the chaos of eternal fmoke And volatile corruption, from the dead. The dying, fickning, and the living world Exhal'd, to fully heaven's tranfparent dome '70

With dim mortality. It is not Air That from a thoufand lungs reeks back to thine. Sated with exhalations rank and fell. The fpoil of dunghills, and the putrid thaw

B3 Of

6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of nature ; when from fhape and texture ftic 75;

Relapfes into fighting elements :

It is not Air, but floats a naufeous mafs

Of all obfcene, corrupt, ofFenfive things.

Much moifture hurts; but here a fordid bath.

With oily rancour fraught, relaxes more 80

The folid frame than fimple moifture can.

Befides, imraur"d in many a fullen bay

That never felt the frefhnefs of the breeze.

This flumbring Deep remains, and ranker grows

With fickly reft : and (though the lungs abhor 85

To drink the dun fuliginous abyfs)

Did not the acid vigour of the mine,

Roird from fb many thundring chimneys, tame

The putrid fteams that overfwarm the Iky ;

This cauftic venom would perhaps corrode 90

Thofe tender cells that draw the vital air.

In vain with all their unftuous rills bedew'd ;

Or by the drunken venous tubes, that yawn

In countlefs pores o'er all the pervious fkin

Imbib'd, would poifon the balfamic blood, 9^^

And roufe the heart to every fever's rage.

While yet you breathe, away ; the rural wilds

Invite; the mountains call you, and the vales ;

The woods, the ftreams, and each ambrofial breeze

That fans the ever undulating Iky ; 1 00

A kindly Iky! whofe foft'ring power regales

Man, beaft, and all the vegetable reign.

Find then fome Woodland fcene where nature fmiles

-Benign, where all her honeft children thrive,

Ta

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 7

*ro us there wants not many a happy Seat! 1 o^

Look round the fmiling land, fuch numbers rife

We hardly fix, bewilder'd in our choice.

See where enthron'd in adamantine ftate.

Proud of her bards, imperial Windfor fits ;

There chufe thy feat, in fome afpiring grove 1 10

Fafl; by the flowly-winding Thames ; or where

Broader fhe laves fair Richmond's green retreats,

(Richmond that fees an hundred villas rife

Rural or gay). O! from the fummer's rage

O! wrap me in the friendly gloom that hides 11^

Umbrageous Ham! — But, if the bufy Town

Attraft thee ftill to toil for power or gold.

Sweetly thou mayft thy vacant hours poflefs

In Hampftead, courted by the weftern wind ;

Or Greenwich, waving o'er the winding flood; 1 20

Or lofe the world amid the fylvan wilds

Of Dulvvich, yet by barbarous arts unfpoil'd.

Green rife theKentifli hills in chearful air;

But on the marfhy plains that Lincoln fpreads

Build not, nor reft too long thy wand'ring feet, 12^

For on a ruftic throne of dewy turf.

With baneful fogs her aching temples bound,

Quartana there prefides : a meagre Fiend

Begot by Eurus, when his brutal force

Comprefs'd the flothful Naiad of the Fens, 130

From fuch a mixture fprung, this fitful peft

With fev"rifh blaftsfubdues the fickning land :

Cold tremors come, with mighty love of reftj

Convulfive yawnings, laflitude, and pains

B 4 That

S ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

That ftlngthe burden 'd brows, fatigue the loins.

And rack the joints and every torpid limb; 136

Then parching heat fucceeds, till copious fweats

O'erflow : a fhort relief from former ills.

Beneath repeated fhocks the wretches pine;

The vigour finks, the habit melts away ; 140

The chearful, pure, and animated bloom

Dies from the face, with fqualid atrophy

Devour'd, in fallow melancholy clad.

And oft the Sorcerefs, in her fated wrath,

Refigns them to the furies of her train; 145

The bloated Hydrops, and the yellow Fiend

Ting'd with her own accumulated gall.

In queft of Sites, avoid the mournful plain Where ofiers thrive, and trees that love the lake; Where many lazy muddy rivers flow : 1 j;o

Nor for the wealth that all the Indies roll Fix near the marfhy margin of the main. For from the humid foil and watry reign Eternal vapours rife; thefpungy air For ever weeps : or, turgid with the weight i^^

Of waters, pours a founding deluge down. Skies fuch as thefe let every mortal (hun Who dreads the dropfy, palfy, or the gout. Tertian, corronve fcurvy, or moilt catarrh; Or any other injury that grows 160

From raw-fpun fibres idle and unfirung. Skin ill-perfpiring, and the purple flood In languid eddies loitering into phlegm.

Yet

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 9

Yet not alone from humid Ikies we pine; For Air may be too dry. The fubtle heaven, 16^ That winnows into duft the blafted downs. Bare and extended wide without a ftream. Too faft imbibes th' attenuated lymph Which, by the furface, from the blood exhales. The lungs grow rigid, and with toil effay Their flexible vibrations; or inflamVi, Their tender ever-moving ftrufture thaws. Spoildof its limpid vehicle, the blood A mafs of lees remains, a drofly tide That flow as Lethe wanders thro' the veins : 175;

Unaftive in the fervices of life. Unfit to lead its pitchy current through Thefecret mazy channels of the brain. The melancholic fiend (that worfl:defpair Of phyfic], hence the ruft-complexion'd man 1 80

Purfues, whofe blood is dry, whofe fibres gain Too ftretch'd a tone: and hence in climes aduft So fudden tumults feize the trembling nerves. And burning fevers glow with double rage.

Fly, if you can, thefe violent extremes 18^

Of Air : the wholefome is nor moift nor dry. But as the power of chufing is deny'd To half mankind, a further talk enfues ; How beft to mitigate thefe fell extremes. How breathe unhurt the withering element, 190

Or hazy atmofphere : Though Cufl:om moulds To ev'ry clime the foft Promethean clay; And he who firft the fogs of EfTex breath'd

So

10 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

(So kind is native air) may in the fens

Of Effex from inveterate ills revive ige

At pure Montpelier or Bermuda caught.

But if the raw and oozy heaven offend .

Correft the foil, and dry the fources up

Of watery exhalation : wide and deep

Conduft your trenches through the quaking bog; 200

SoUicitous, with all your winding arts.

Betray th' unwilling lake into the ftream ;

And weed the foreft, and invoke the winds

To break the toils where ftrangled vapours lie ;

Or through the thickets fend the crackling flames. 205

Mean time at home with chearful fires difpel

The humid air : And let your table fmoke

"With folid roaft or bak'd ; or what the herds

Of tamer breed fupply ; or what the wilds

yield to the toilfome pleafures of the chafe. 210

Generous your wine, the boaft of rip'ning years;

But frugal be your cups: the languid frame

Vapid and funk from yefterday's debauch.

Shrinks from the cold embrace of watery heavens.

But neither thefe nor all Apollo's arts, 2 1 5

Difarm the dangers of the dropping Iky,

Unlefs with exercife and manly toil

You brace your nerves, and fpur the lagging blood.

The fat'ning clime let all the fons of eafe

Avoid; if indolence would wifh to live, 220

Go, yawn and loiter out the long flow year

In fairer Ikies. If droughty regions parch

The Ikin and lungs, and bake the thickening blood ;

Deep

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. u

Deep in the vva\ ing foreft chufe your feat.

Where fuming trees refrefh the thirfty air;

And wake the fountains from their fecret beds,

And into lakes dilate the rapid ftreara.

Here fpread your gardens wide; and let the cool.

The moift relaxing vegetable ftore

Prevail in each repaft: Your food fupplied 230

By bleeding life, be gently wafted down.

By foft decoftion and a mellowing heat.

To liquid balm; or, if the folid mafs

You chufe, tormented in the boiling wave ;

That through the thirfty channels of the blood 255

A fmooth diluted chyle may ever flow.

The fragrant dairy from its cool recefs

Its nedlar acid or benign will pour

To drown your thirft ; or let the mantling bowl

Of keen Sherbet the nd<le tafte relieve. 24.0

For with the vifcous blood the fimple ftream

Will hardly mingle; and fermented cups

Oft diffipate more moifture than they give.

Yet when pale feafons rife, or winter rolls

His horrors o'er the world, thou may'ft indulge 24^

In feafts more genial, and im.patient broach

The mellow calk. Then too the fcourging air

Provokes to keener toils than fultry droughts

Allow. But rarely we fuch flcies blafpheme.

Steep'd in continual rains, or with raw fogs 2 jo

Bedew'd, our feafons droop; incumbent ftill

A ponderous heaven o'erwhelms the finking foul.

Lab'ringwith ftorms in heapy mountains rife

Th' im-

Si ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Th' imbattled clouds, as if the Stygian fhades Had left the dungeon of eternal night, 2 r r

Till black with thunder all the South defcends. Scarce in a fhowerlefs day the heavens indulge Our meltingclime; except the baleful Eaft Withers the tender fpring, and fourly checks The fancy of the year. Our fathers talk 260

Of fummers, balmy airs, and ikies ferene. Good heaven ! for what unexpiated crimes This difmal change ! The brooding elements Do they, your powerful minifters of wrath. Prepare fome fierce exterminating plague ? 269

Or is it fix'd in the Decrees above That lofty Albion melt into the main ! Indulgent Nature ! O diffolve this gloom ! Bind in eternal adamant the winds That drown or wither: Give the genial Weft 270

To breathe, and in its turn the fprightly North ; And may once more the circling feafons rule The year ; not mix in every monftrous day.

Mean time, the moift malignity to fhun 274

Of burthen'd Ikies; mark where the dry champaign Swells into chearful hills; where Marjoram And Thyme, the love of bees, perfume the air; And where the* Cynorrhodon with the rofe. For fragrance vies; for in the thirfty foil Moft fragrant breathe the aromatic tribes. 280

There bid thy roofs high on the baflcing deep

* The wild rofe, or that which grows on the common briar,

Afcend,

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH, ,3

Afcend, there light thy hofpitable fires.

And let them fee the winter morn arife.

The fummer evening blu(hing in the weft ;

While \\ ith umbrageous oaks the ridge behind 285

O'erhung, defends you from the bluiV ring north.

And bleak affliftion of the peevilh eaft.

O ! when the growling winds contend, and all

The founding foreft fiuftuates in the ftorm ;

To fmk in warm repofe, and hear the din 29©

Howl o'er the fteady battlements, delights

Above the luxury of vulgar fleep.

The murmuring rivulet, and the hoarfer ftrain

Of waters rufhing o'er the flippery rocks.

Will nightly lull you to ambrofial reft. 20^

To pleafe the fancy is no trifling good.

Where health is ftudied ; for whatever moves

The mind with calm delight, promotes the juft

And natural movements of th' harmonious frame.

Befides, the fportive brook for ever fhakes 300

The trembling air ; that floats from hill to hill.

From vale to mountain, with inceffant change

Of pureft element, refrefliing ftill

Your airy feat, and uninfedled Gods.

Chiefly for this I praife the man who builds 305

High on the breezy ridge, whofe lofty fides

Th' etherial deep with endlefs billows chafes.

His purer manfion nor contagious years

Shall reach, nor deadly putrid airs annoy.

But may no fogs, from lake or fenny plain, 310 Involve my hill! And wherefoe'er you build ;

Whether

H ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

"Whether on fun-burnt Epfom, or the plains

Wafli'd by the filent Lee; in Chelfea low.

Or high Blackheath with wintry winds affaird;

Dry be yourhoufe : but airy more than warm. 315

Elfe every breath of ruder wind will ftrike

Your tender body through with rapid pains ;

Fierce coughs will teize you, hoarfenefs bind your voice.

Or moiO; Gravedo load your aching brows.

Thefe to defy and all the fates that dwell 320

In cloifter'd air tainted with {learning life.

Let lofty ceilings grace your ample rooms ;

And ftill at azure noontide may your dome

At every window drink the liquid flcy.

Need we the funny fituation here, 32^;

And theatres open to the fouth, commend? Here, where the morning's mifty breath infefts More than the torrid noon ? How fickly grow. How pale, the plants in tliofe ill-fated vales That, circled round with the gigantic heap 330

Of mountains, never felt, nor ever hope To feel, the genial vigour of the fun ! While on the neighbouring hill therofe inflames The verdant fpring; in virgin beauty blows The tender lily, languilhingly fweet ; 335

O'er every hedge the wanton woodbine roves. And autumn ripens in the furamer's ray. Nor lefs the warmer living tribes demand The foft'ring fun : whofe energy divine Dwells not in mortal fire; whofe gen'rous heat 340

Glows

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 15

Glows through the mafs of grofler elements.

And kindles into life the pondrous fpheres.

Chear'd by thy kind invigorating warmth.

We court thy beams, great majefty of day !

If not the foul, the regent of this world, 345

Firft-born of heaven, and only lefs than God !

THE

C ^6 ] THE ART

O F

PRESERVING HEALTH. BOOK 11.

DIET.

'P N O U G H of Air. A defart fubjed now,

•*— ^ Rougher and wilder, rifes to my fight.

A barren wafte, where not a garland grows

To bind theMufe's brow; not ev'n a proud

Stupendous folitude frowns o'er the heath, r

To roufe a noble horror in the foul:

But rugged paths fatigue, and error leads

Through endlefs labyrinths the devious feet.

Farewel, etherial fields! the humbler arts

Of life; the Table and the homely Gods lo

Demand my fong. Elyfian gales adieu !

The blood, the fountain whence the fpirlts flow. The generous ftream that waters every part. And motion, vigour, and warm life conveys To every particle that moves or lives; 15

This vital fluid, through unnumber'd tubes Pour'd by the heart, and to the heart again

Refunded;

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 17

Refunded ; fcourg'd for ever round and round ;

Enrag'd with heat and toil, at laft forgets

Its balmy nature; virulent and thin 20

It grows ; and now, but that a thoufand gates

Are open to its flight, it would deftroy

The parts it cherifh'd and repaired before.

Befides, the flexible and tender tubes

Melt in the mildeft moft neftareous tide 2^

That ripening nature rolls ; as in the ftream

Its crumbling banks; but what the vital force

Of plaftic fluids hourly batters down.

That very force, thofe plaftic particles

Rebuild: So mutable the ftate of man. 30

For this the watchful appetite was giv'n.

Daily with frefh materials to repair

This unavoidable expence of life.

This neceflfary wafte of flefh and blood.

Hence the concoftive powers, with various art, 3;

Subdue the cruder aliments to chyle;

The chyle to blood; the foamy purple tide

To liquors, which through finer arteries

To different parts their winding courfe purfue;

To try new changes, and new forms put on, 40

Or for the public, or fome private ufe.

Nothing fo foreign but th' athletic hind Can labour into blood. The hungry meal Alone he fears, or aliments too thin; By violent powers too eafily fubdu'd, 4,

Too foon expell'd. His daily labour thaws. To friendly chyle, the moft rebellious mafs

Vol. LXXI. C Thaf

i8 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

That fait can harden, or the fmoke of years;

Nor does his gorge the lufcious bacon rue.

Nor that which Ceftria fends, tenacious pallc 50

Of folid milk. But ye of fofter clay.

Infirm and delicate! and ye who wafte

With pale and bloated floth the tedious day!

Avoid the ftubborn aliment, avoid

The full repaft; and let fagacious age ^^

Grow wifer, leflbn'd by the dropping teeth.

Half fubtiliz'd to chyle, the liquid food Readieft obeys th' affimilating powers; And foon the tender vegetable mafs Relents ; and foon the young of thofe that tread 60 The ftedfaft earth, or cleave the green abyfs. Or pathlefs (ky. And if the Steer muft fall. In youth and fanguine vigour let him die; Nor ftay till rigid age, or heavy ails, Abfolve him ill-requited from the yoke. 65

Some with high forage, and luxuriant eafe. Indulge the veteran Ox; but wifer thou. From the bald mountain or the barren downs, Expeft the flocks by frugal nature fed ; A race of purer blood, with exercife 70

Refin'd and fcanty fare : For, old or young. The ftall'd are never healthy ; nor the cramm'd. Not all the culinary arts can tame. To wholefome food, the abominable growth Of reft and gluttony ; the prudent tafte 75

Rejefts like bane fuch loathfome lufcioufnefs. The languid ftomach curfes even the pure

Delicious

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 19

Delicious fat, and all the race of oil :

For more the oily aliments relax

Its feeble tone; and with the eager lymph 80

Fond to incorporate with all it meets)

Coily they mix, and fhun with flippery wiles

The woo'd embrace. Th' irrefoluble oil.

So gentle late and blandifhing, in floods

Of rancid bile o'ei-flows : What tumults hence, 85

What horrors rife, were naufeous to relate.

Choofe leaner viands, ye whofe jovial make

Too faft the gummy nutriment imbibes:

Choofe fober meals; and roufe to aftive life

Your cumbrous clay; nor on th' infeebling down,

Irrefolute, protraft the morning hours. 91

But let the man whofe bones are thinly clad.

With chearful eafe and fuccnlent repaft

Improve his habit if he can ; for each

Extreme departs from perfeft fanity. 5^

I could relate what table this demands Or that complexion ; what the various powers Of various foods : But fifty years would roll. And fifty more before the tale were done. Befides there often lurks fome namelefs, ftrange, 100 Peculiar thing; nor on the Ikin difplay'd. Felt in the pulfe, nor in the habit feen ; WHiich finds a poifon in the food that moft The temp'rature affefts. There are, whofe blood Impetuous rages through the turgid veins, 10;

Who better bear the fiery fruits of Ind Than the moift Melon, or pale Cucumber.

C 2 Of

20 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of chilly nature others fly the board

Supply'd with flaughter, and the vernal powers

For cooler, kinder, fuftenance implore.

Some even the generous nutriment deteft no

Which, in the fhell, the fleeping embryo rears.

Some, more unhappy ftill, repent the gifts

Of Pales ; foft, delicious and benign :

The balmy quinteflence of every flower.

And every grateful herb that decks the fpring; 1 15

The foft 'ring dew of tender fp routing life;

The beft refeftion of declining age;

The kind reftorative of thofe who lie

Half dead and panting, from the doubtful ftrife

Of nature ftruggling in the grafp of death. 120

Try all the bounties of this fertile globe.

There is not fuch a falutary food

As fuits with every ftomach. But (except.

Amid the mingled mafs of fifh and fowl.

And boil'd and bak'd, you hefitate by which I2«;

You funk opprefs'd, or whether not by all ;)

Taught by experience foon you may difcern

What pleafes, what offends. Avoid the cates

That lull the ficken'd appetite too long ;

Or heave with fev'rifb flufliings all the face, 130

Bum in the palms, and parch the roughning tongue ;

Or much diminifh or too much increafe

Th' expence, which nature's wife ceconomy.

Without or wafte or avarice, maintains.

Such cates abjur'd, let prouling hunger loofe, 135

And bid the curious palate roara at will;

1 They

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. as

They fcarce can err amid the various ftores That burft the teeming entrails of the world.

Led by fagacious tafte, the ruthlefs king Of beafts on blood and Daughter only lives; 140

The Tiger, form'd alike to cruel meals. Would at the manger ftarve : Of milder feeds The generous horfe to herbage and to grain Confines his wi(h; though fabling Greece refound The Thracian fteeds with human carnage wild. 145 Prompted by inftind's never-erring power. Each creature knows its proper aliment; But man, th' inhabitant of ev'ry clime. With all the commoners of nature feeds. Direfted, bounded, by this power within, 15*0

Their cravings are well-aim'd : Voluptuous Man Is by fuperior faculties mifled; Mifled from pleafure even in queft of joy. Sated with Nature's boons, what thoufands feek. With difhes tortur'd from their native tafte, 155

And mad variety, to fpur beyond Its wifer will the jaded appetite! Is this for pleafure ? Learn a jufter tafte; And know that temperance is true luxury. Or is it pride? Purfue fome nobler aim. 160

Difmifs your parafites, who praife for hire; And earn the fair efteem of honeft men, Whofe praife is fame. Form'd of fuch clay as yours. The fick, the needyj fhiver at your gates. E\en modeft want may blefs your hand unfeen, 1 65 Though hufh'd in patient wretchednefs at home,

C 3 Is

c» ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Is there no virgin, grac'd with every charm But that which binds the mercenary vow? No youth of genius, whofe neglefted bloom Unfofter'd fickens in the barren fhade; 170

No worthy man,' by fortune's random blows. Or by a heart too generous and humane, Conftrain'd to leave his happy natal feat. And figh for wants more bitter than his own ? There are, while human miferies abound, 17J

A thoufand ways to wafte fuperfluous wealth. Without one fool or flatterer at your board. Without one hour of ficknefs or difguft.

But other ills th' ambiguous feaft purfue, Befides provoking the lafcivious tafte. 180

Such various foods, though harmlefs each alone. Each other violate; and oft we fee What ftrife is brew'd, and what pernicious bane. From combinations of innoxious things. Th' unbounded tafte I mean not to confine 185

To hermit's diet needlefly fevere. But would you long the fweets of health enjoy. Or hufband pleafure; at one impious meal Exhauft not half the bounties of the year. Of every realm. It matters not mean while 19Q

How much to-morrow differ from to-day; So far indulge : 'tis fit, befides, that man. To change obnoxious, be to change inur'd. But ftay the curious appetite, and tafte With caution fruits you never tried before. 195

For want of ufe the kindeft aliment

Sometimes

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 23

Sometimes ofFends ; while cuftora tames the rage Of poifon to mild amity with life.

So heav'n has forra'd us to the general taflc Of all its gifts; fo cuftom has improv'd 20»

This bent of nature; that few fimple foods. Of all that earth, or air, or ocean yield. But by excefs offend. Beyond the fenfe Of light refeclion, at the genial board Indulge not often; nor protraft the feafl 205

To dull fatiety ; till foft and flow A drowzy death creeps on, th' expanfive foul Opprefs'd, and fmother'd the celeftial fire. The ftomach, urg'd beyond its aftive tone. Hardly to nutrimental chyle fubdues 2lo

The fofteft food; unfinifh'd and deprav'd. The chyle, in all its future wanderings, owns Its turbid fountain ; not by purer ftreams So to be clear "d, but foulnefs will remain. To fparkling wine what ferment can exalt 2 1 5

Th* unripen'd grape? Or what mechanic fkill

From the crude ore can fpin the duftile gold? Grofs riot treafures up a wealthy fund

Of plagues : but more immedicable ills

Attend the lean extreme. For phyfic knows 220

How to difburden the too tumid veins.

Even how to ripen the half-labour'd blood ;

But to unlock the elemental tubes,

Collaps'd and fhrunk with long inanity-.

And with balfamic nutriment repair 225

The dried and worn-out habit, were to bid

C 4 Old

24 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Old age grow green, and wear a fecond fpring;

Or the tall afh, long ravifh'd from the foil.

Through wither'd veins imbibe the vernal dew.

When hunger calls, obey; nor often wait 230

Till hunger fharpen to corrofive pain:

For the keen appetite will feaft beyond

What nature v/ell can bear ; and one extreme

Ne'er without danger meets its own reverfe.

Too greedily th' exhaufted veins abforb 235

The recent chyle, and load enfeebled powers

Oft to th' extinftion of the vital flame.

To the pale cities, by the firm-fet fiege

And famine humbled, may this verfe be borne j

And hear, ye hardieft fons that Albion breeds 240

Long tofs'd and famifh'd on the wintrj' main;

The war fhook off, or hofpitable fhore

Attain'd, with temperance bear the fhock of joy ;

I\or crown with feftive rites th' aufpicious day:

Such feaft might prove more fatal than the waves.

Than war or famine. While the vital fire 246

Burns feebly, heap not the green fuel on ;

But prudently foment the wandering fpark

.With what the fooneft feeds its kindred touch :

Be frugal ev'n of that : a little give 250

At firft; that kindled, add a little more;

Till, by deliberate nourifhing, the flame

Reviv'd, with all its wonted vigour glows.

But though the two (the full and the jejune) "Extremes have each their vice ; it much avails 255 Ever with gentle tide to ebb and flow

From

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45

From this to that : So nature learns to bear Whatever chance or headlong appetite May bring. Befides> a meagre day fubdues The cruder clods by lloth or luxury 260

CoUedled, and unloads the wheels of life. Sometimes a coy averfion to the feaft Comes on, while yet no blacker omen lours ; Then is a time to fhun the tempting board. Were it your natal or your nuptial day, 265

Perhaps a faft fo feafonable ftarves The latent feeds of woe, which rooted once Might coft you labour. But the day return'd Of feftal luxury, the wife indulge Moft in the tender vegetable breed : 270

Then chiefly when the fummer beams inflame The brazen heavens ; or angry Sirius flieds A feverifli taint through the ftill gulf of air. The moift cool viands then, and flowing cup From the frefh dairy-virgin's liberal hand, 275'

Will fave your head from harm, tho' round the world The dreaded * Caufos roll his wafteful fires. Pale humid winter loves the generous board. The meal more copious, and a warmer fare ; And longs with old wood and old wine to chear 280 His quaking heart. The feafons which divide ■ Th' empires of heat and cold ; by neither claim'd, Influenc'd by both ; a middle regimen Impofe. Through autumn's languifliing domain Defcending, nature by degrees invites 285

* The burning fever.

To

i6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

To glowing luxury. But from the depth

Of winter when th' invigorated year

Emerges; when Favonius flufh'd with love,

Toyful and young, in every breeze defcends

More warm and wanton on his kindling bride; 290

Then, fhepherds, then begin to fpare your flocks;

And learn, with wife humanity, to check

The luft of blood. Now pregnant earth commits

A various offspring to th' indulgent fky :

Now bounteous nature feeds with lavifh hand 295

The prone creation; yields what once fuffic'd

Their dainty fovereign, when the world was young ;

Ere yet the barbarous thirft of blood had feiz'd

The human breaft. — Each rolling month matures

The food that fuits it moft ; fo does each clime.

Far in the horrid realms of Winter, where 301

Th' eftablifh'd ocean heaps a monftrous wafte Of fliining rocks and mountains to the pole : There lives a hardy race, whofe plaineft wants Relentlefs earth, their cruel ftep-mother, 305

Regards not. On the wafte of iron fields, Untam'd, intraftable, no harvefts wave : Pomona hates them, and the clownifh God Who tends the garden. In this frozen world Such cooling gifts were vain : a fitter meal 310

Is earn'd with eafe : for here the fruitful fpavvn Of Ocean fwarms, and heaps their genial board With generous fare and luxury profufe. Thefe are their bread, the only bread they know: Thefe, and their willing flave the deer that crops

The

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 27

The ftirubby herbage on their meagre hills. 3 1 6

Girt by the burning Zone, not thus the South

Her fwarthy fons in either Ind, maintains :

Or thirfty Libya ; from whofe fervid loins

The lion burfts, and every fiend that roams 320

Th' affrighted wildernefs. The mountain herd,

Aduft and dry, no fvveet repaft affords;

Nor does the tepid main fuch kinds produce.

So perfeft, fo delicious, as the flioals

Of icy Zembla. Rafhiy where the blood 32 r

Brews feverifli frays ; where fcarce the tubes fuftain

Its tumid fervour and tempeftuous courfe;

Kind nature tempts not to fuch gifts as thefe.

But here in livid ripenefs melts the Grape :

Here, finifli'd by invigorating funs, 230

Through the green fliade the golden Orange glows;

Spontaneous here the turgid Melon yields

A generous pulp : the Coco fwells on high

With milky riches ; and in horrid mail

The crifp Ananas wraps its poignant fweets. ^55

Earth's vaunted progeny : In ruder air

Too coy to flourifh, even too proud to live;

Or hardly rais'd by artificial fire

To vapid life. Here with a mother's fmile

Glad Amalthea pours her copious horn. 340

Here buxom Ceres reigns ; Th' autumnal fea

In boundlefs billows fluftuates o'er their plains.

\^'hat fuits the climate belt, what fuits the men.

Nature profufes moft, and mofl the tafte

Demands, The fountain, edg'd wiih racy wiac

Or

»8 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Or acid fruit, bedews their thirfly fouls.

The breeze eternal breathing round their limbs

Supports in elfe intolerable air:

While the cool Palm, the Plaintain, and the grove

That waves on gloomy Lebanon, affuage 350

The torrid hell that beams upon their heads.

Now come, ye Naiads, to the fountains lead; Now let me wander through your gelid reign. I burn to view th' enthufiaftic wilds By mortal elfe untrod. I hear the din 355

Of waters thund'ring o'er the ruin'd cliiFs. With holy reverence I approach the rocks Whence glide the ftreams renown'd in ancient fong. Here from the defart down the rumbling fteep Firft fprings the Nile ; here burfts the founding Po In angry waves j Euphrates hence devolves 361

A mighty flood to water half the Eaft ; And there, in Gothic folitude reclin'd. The chearlefs Tanais pours his hoary urn. "What folemn twilight! What ftupendous fhades ^6^ Enwrap thefe infant floods! Through every nerve A facred horror thrills, a pleafing fear Glides o'er my frame. The foreft deepens round; And more gigantic ftill th' impending trees Stretch their extravagant arms athwart the gloom. Are thefe the confines of fome fairy world ? 371

A land of Genii ? Say, beyond thefe wilds What unknown nations ? If indeed beyond Aught habitable lies. And whither leads. To what firange regions, or of blifs or pain, 375

That

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. a>

That fubterraneous way ? Propitious maids,

Conduft me, while with fearful fteps I tread

This trembling ground. The talk remains to fing

Your gifts (fo Paeon, fo the powers of health

Command) to praife your cryftal element : 380

The chief ingredient in heaven's various woiks;

Whofe flexile genius fparkles in the gem.

Grows firm in oak, and fugitive in wine;

The vehicle, the fource, of nutriment

And life, to all that vegetate or live. 38^

O comfortable ftreams ! With eager lips And trembling hand the languid thirfly quaff New life in you ; frefh vigour fills their veins. No warmer cups the rural ages knew ; None warmer fought the fires of human kind. 390 Happy in temperate peace! Their equal days Felt not th' alternate fits of feverifb mirth. And fick dejeftion. Still ferene and pleas "d They knew no pains but what the tender foul With pleafure yields to, and would ne'er forget. Bleft with divine immunity from ails, 396

Long centuries they liv'd; their only fate Was ripe old age, and rather fleep than death. Oh ! could thofe worthies from the world of Gods Return to vifit their degenerate fons, 400

How would they fcorn the joys of modern time. With all our art and toil improv'd to pain ! Too happy they ! But wealth brought luxury. And luxury on iloth begot difeafe.

Learu

30 ARMSTRONG'S P0£MS.

Learn temperance, friends; and hear without difdalrl The choice of water. Thus the * Coan fage 406 Opin'd, and thus the learn 'd of every School. What leaft of foreign principles partakes Is beft : The lighted then ; what bears the touch Of fire the leaft, and fooneft mounts in air; 410

The moft infipid ; the moft void of fmell. Such the rude mountain from his horrid fides Pours down ; fuch waters in the fandy vale For ever boil, alike of winter frofts And fummer's heat fecure. The cryftal ftream, 41^ Through rocks refounding, or for many a mile O'er the chaf'd pebbles hurl'd, yields wholefome, pure And mellow draughts ; except when winter thaws. And half the mountains melt into the tide. Though thirft were e'er fo refolute, a\'oid 420

The fordid lake, and all fuch drowfy floods As fill from Lethe Belgia's flow canals; (With reft corrupt, with vegetation green j Squalid with generation, and the birth Of little monfters;) till the power of fire 425

Has from prophane embraces difengag'd The violated lymph. The virgin ftream In boiling waftes its finer foul in air.

Nothing like fimple element dilutes The food, or gi^-es the chyle fo foon to flow. 430 But where the ftomach indolent and cold Toys with its duty, animate with wine Th' infipid ftream : Though golden Ceres yields

* -Hippocrates.

A more

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 31

A more voluptuous, a more fprightly draught ;

Perhaps more aftive. Wine unmlx'd, and all 435

The gluey floods that from the vex'd abyfs

Of fermentation fpring ; with fpirit fraught.

And furious with intoxicating fire ;

Retard concoftion, and preferve unthaw'd

Th' embodied mafs. You fee what countlefs years,

Embalm'd in fiery quintefcence of wine, 441

The puny wonders of the reptile world.

The tender rudiments of life, the Aim

Unravellings of minute anatomy.

Maintain their texture, and unchang'd remain. 445

We curfe not wine: The vile excefs we blame; More fruitful than th' accumulated board. Of pain and mifery. For the fubtle draught Fafter and furer fwells the vital tide ; And with more aftive poifon, than the floods 450 Of grofler crudity convey, pervades The far remote meanders of our frame. Ah! fly deceiver! Branded o'er and o'er. Yet ftill belie v'd ! Exulting o'er the wreck Of fober vows ! — But the Parnaffian Maids 455

* Another time perhaps {hall fing the joys. The fatal charms, the many woes of wine ; Perhaps its various tribes, and various powers.

Mean time, I would not alvva} s dread the bowl. Nor every trefpafs fliun. The feverifh ftrife, 460 Rous'd by the rare debauch, fubdues, expells The loitering crudities that burden life;

* Sse Book iv.

And,

34- ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Still with the ruins of the fmall grow ftrong. Life glows mean time, amid the grinding force Of vifcous fluids and elaftic tubes; ^i -

Its various funftions vigoroufly are plied By ftrong machinery ; and in folid health The Man confirm'd long triumphs o'er difeafe. But the full ocean ebbs : There is a point. By nature fix'd, whence life muft downward tend. For flill the beating tide confolidates 521

The ftubborn veffels, more reludant ftill To the weak throbs of th' ill-fupported heart. This languirtiing, thefe ftrength"ning by degrees To hard unyielding unelaftic bone, 525

Through tedious channels the congealing flood Crawls lazily, and hardly wanders on ; It loiters ftill : And now it ftirs no more. This is the period few attain ; the death ' Of nature; thus (fo heav'n ordain'd it) life ^^9

Deftroys itfelf ; and could thefe laws have chang'd, Neftor might now the fates of Troy relate; And Homer live immortal as his fong.

What does not fade ? The tower that long had flood The crufli of thunder and the warring winds, 536 Shook by the flow but fure deftroyer Time, Now hangs in doubtful ruins oer its bafe. And flinty pyramids, and walls of brafs, Defcend : the Babylonian fpires are funk; Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down. 540

Time fliakes the ftable tyranny of thrones. And tottering empires ru(h by their own weight,

Thii

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 35

This huge rotundity we tread grows old ;

And all thofe worlds that roll around the fun.

The fun himfelf, fhall die ; and ancient Night 545

Again involve the defolate abyfs :

Till the great Father through the lifelefs gloom

Extend his arm to light another world.

And bid new planets roll by other laws.

For through the regions of unbounded fpace, 550

Where unconfin'd Omnipotence has room.

Being, in various fyllems, flufluates flill

Between creation and abhorr'd decay :

It ever did ; perhaps and ever will.

New worlds are ftill emerging from the deep ; ^^(j

The old defcending, in their turns to rife.

Dt THE

[ 36 3

T H E A R T o P

PRESERVING HEALTH.

BOOK III.

EXERCISE.

'THHRO' various toils th' adventurous Mufe has paft; •*- But half the toil, and more than half, remains. Rude is her Theme, and hardly fit for Song ; Plain, and of little ornament; and I But little praftis'd in th' Aonian arts. ^

Yet not in vain fuch labours have we tried. If aught thefe lays the fickle health confirm. To you, ye delicate, I write; for you I tame my youth to philofophic cares. And grow ftill paler by the midnight lamps, lo

Not to debilitate with timorous rules A hardy frame; nor needlefly to brave Unglorious dangers, proud of mortal ftrength j Is all the leflbn that in wholefome years Concerns the ftrong. His care were ill beftow'd 1 5 Who would with warm effeminacy nurfe

The

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 37

I he thriving oak which on the mountain's brow iJcars all the blafts that fweep the wintry heav'n.

Behold the labourer of the glebe, who toils Induft, in rain, in cold and fultry flcies; 20

Save but the grain from mildews and the flood. Nought anxious he what fickly ftars afcend. He knows no laws by Efculapius given ; He ftudies none. Yet him nor midnight fogs Infeft, nor thofe envenom'd fliafts that fly 25

When rabid Sirius fires th' autumnal noon. His habit pure with plain and temperate meals, Robufl: with labour, and by cufl;ora fl;eel"d To every cafualty of varied life; Serene he bears the peevifli Eaftern blafl:, 30

And uninfected breathes the mortal South.

Such the reward of rude and fober life; Of labour fuch. By health the peafant's toil Is well repaid ; if exercife were pain Indeed, and temperance pain. By arts like thefe 35 Laconia nurs'd of old her hardy fons ; And Rome's unconquer'd legions urg'd their way. Unhurt, through every toil in every clime.

Toil, and beftrong. By toil the flaccid nerves Grow firm, and gain a more compafted tone; 40

The greener juices are by toil fubdu'd. Mellow 'd, and fubtiliz'd ; the vapid old Expell'd, and all the rancour of the blood. Come, my companions, ye who feel the charms Of nature and the year : come, let us ftray 45"

Where chance or fancy leads our roving walk :

D 3 Come,

38 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Come, while the foft voluptuous breezes fan

The fleecy heavens, enwrap the limbs in balm.

And (hed a charming languor o'er the foul.

Nor when bright Winter fows with prickly froft 50

The vigorous ether, in unmanly warmth

Indulge at home; nor even when Eurus' blafts

This way and that convolve thelab'ring woods.

My liberal walks, five when the ikies in rain

Or fogs relent, no feafon fhould confine 5j;

Or to the cloifter'd gallery or arcade.

Go, climb the mountain ; from th' ethereal fource

Imbibe the recent gale. The chearful morn

Beams o'er the hills ; go, mount th' exulting fteed.

Already, fee, the deep-mouth'd beagles catch 60

The tainted mazes; and, on eager fport

Intent, with emulous impatience try

Each doubtful trace. Or, if a nobler prey

Delight you more, go chafe the defperate deer;

And through its deepeft folitudes awake 65

The vocal foreft with the jovial horn.

But if the breathlefs chafe o'er hill and dale Exceed your ftrength; a fport of lefs fatigue. Not lefs delightful, the prolific ftream Affords. The cryftal rivulet, that o'er 70

A ftony channel rolls its rapid maze. Swarms with the filver fry. Such, through the bounds Of paftoral Stafford, runs the brawling Trent ; Such Eden, fprung from Cumbrian mountains ; fuch The Efk, o'erhung with woods ; and fuch the ftream On whofe Arcadian banks I firft drew air, 76

Liddalj

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 39

Liddal ; till now, except in Doric lays

Tun'd to her murmurs by her love-fick fwains.

Unknown in fong: Though not a purer ftream, 79

Thro' meads more flowery or more romantic groves.

Rolls toward the weftern main. Hail, facred flood !

May ftill thy hofpitable fwains be bleft

In rural innocence ; thy mountains ftill

Teem with the fleecy race ; thy tuneful woods

For ever flourifh ; and thy vales look gay S5;

"With painted meadows, and the golden grain !

Oft, with thy blooming fons, when life was new.

Sportive and petulant, and charm 'd with toys.

In thy tranfparent eddies have I lav'd :

Oft trac'd with patient fteps thy fairy banks, go

With the well-imitated fly to hook

The eager trout, and with the flenderline

And yielding rod follicite to the (hore

The flruggling panting prey ; while vernal clouds

And tepid gales obfcur'd the ruffled pool, 95

And from the deeps call'd forth the wanton fwarms.

Form'd on the Samian fchool, or thofe of Ind, There are who think thefe paftimes fcarce humane. Yet in my mind (and not relentlefs I) His life is pure that wears no fouler ftains. 1 00

But if through genuine tendernefs of heart. Or fecret want of relifh for the game. You fliun the glories of the chace, nor care To haunt the peopled ftream ; the garden yields A foft amufement, an humane delight. 1 05;

To raife th' infipid nature of the ground j

D 4 Or

40 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Or tame its favage genius to the grace

Of carelefs fweet rufticity, that feems

The amiable refult of happy chance.

Is to create; and gives a god-like joy, i lo

Which every year improves. Nor thou difdain

To check the lavvlefs riot of the trees.

To plant the grove, or turn the barren mould.

O happy he! whom, when his years decline,

(His fortune and his fame by worthy means 115

Attain'd, and equal to his moderate mind ;

His life approv'd by all the wife and good.

Even envied by the vain) the peaceful groves

Of Epicurus, from this ftormy world.

Receive to reft; of all ungrateful cares 120

Abfolv'd, and facred from the felfifh crowd.

Happieft of men ! if the fame foil invites

A chofen few, companions of his youth.

Once fellow-rakes perhaps, now rural friends;

With whom in eafy commerce to purfue 125

Nature's free charms, and vie for fylvan fame :

A fair ambition; void of ftrife or guile.

Or jealoufy, or pain to be outdone.

Who plans th' enchanted garden, who direfls

The viftobeft, and beft condufts theftream; 130

Whofe groves the fafteft thicken and afcend ;

Whom firft the welcome fpring falutes ; who fhevvs

The earlieft bloom, the fweeteft proudeft charms

Of Flora; who beft gives Pomona's juice

To match the fprightly genius of champain. 135

Thrice happy days! in rural bufmefs paft:

5 Bleft

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 41

Eleft winter nights ! when as the genial fire

Cheats the wide hall, his cordial family

With foft domeftic arts the hours beguile.

And pleafing talk that ftarts no timorous fame, 140

"With witlefs wantonnefs to hunt it down :

Or through the fairy land of tale or fong

Delighted wander, in fiftitious fates

Engag'd, and all that ftrikes humanity:

Till loft in fable, they the ftealing hour 145

Of timely reft forget. Sometimes, at eve

His neighbours lift the latch, and blefs unbid

His feftal roof ; while, o'er the light repaft.

And fprightly cups, they mix in focial joy ;

And, through the maze of converfation, trace 150

Whate'er amufes or improves the mind.

Sometimes at eve (for I delight to tafte

The native zeft and flavour of the fruit.

Where fenfe grows wild and takes of no manure)

The decent, honeft, chearful hufbandman 155

Should drown his labours in my friendly bowl;

And at my table find himfelf at home.

Whate'er you ftudy, in whate'er you fweat. Indulge your tafte. Some love the manly foils; The tennis fome; and fome the graceful dance. 160 Others more hardy, range the purple heath. Or naked ftubble; where from field to field The founding coveys urge their labouring flight; Eager amid the rifing cloud to pour The gun's unerring thunder ; And there are 1 6^

Whom

4* ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Whom ftill the * meed of the green archer charms* He chufes beft, whofe labour entertains His vacant fancy moft : The toil you hate Fatigues you foon, and fcarce improves your limbs.

As beauty ftill has blemifli; and the mind 1 70

The moft accomplilh'd its imperfeft fide; Few bodies are there of that happy mould But fome one part is weaker than the reft : The legs, perhaps, or arms refufe their load. Or the cheft labours. Thefe affiduoufly, 175

But gently, in their proper arts employed. Acquire a vigour and fpringy activity To which they were not born. But weaker parts Abhor fatigue and violent difcipline.

Begin with gentle toils; and, as your nerves 180 Grow firm, to hardier by juft fteps afpire. The prudent, even in every moderate walk. At firft but faunter; and by flow degrees Increafe their pace. This dodlrine of the wife Well knows the mafter of the flying fteed. 1 S5

Firft from the goal the manag'd courfers play On bended reins : as yet the fkilful youth Reprefs their foamy pride ; but every breath The race grows warmer, and the tempeft fwells ; Till all the fiery mettle has its way, 190

And the thick thunder hurries o'er the plain. When all at once from indolence to toil

♦ This word is much ufed by fome of the old Englifli poets, and fignifies Rtii'ard oxPri^f.

Yow

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45

You fpring, the fibres by the hafty fhock

Are tir'd and crack'd, before their unftuous coats,

Comprefs'd, can pour the lubricating balm. 19J

Befides, collefted in the paflive veins.

The purple mafs a fudden torrent rolls,

O'erpowers the heart and deluges the lungs

With dangerous inundation : oft the fource

Of fatal woes ; a cough that foams with blood, 200

Afthma and feller * Peripneumony,

Or the {low minings of the hedlic fire.

Th' athletic Fool, to whom what heav'n deny'd Of foul is well compenfated in limbs. Oft from his rage, or bralnlefs frolic, feels 20^

His vegetation and brute force decay. The men of better clay and finer mould Know nature, feel the human dignity ; And fcorn to vie with oxen or with apes, Purfu'd prolixly, even the gentleft toil 219

Is wafte of health : repofe by fmall fatigue Is earn'd ; and (v/here your habit is not prone To thaw) by the firft moifture of the brows. The fine and fubtle fpirits coft too much To be profus'd, too much the rofcid balm, 215

But when the hard varieties of life You toil to learn ; or try the dufty chace. Or the warm deeds of fome important day: Hot from the field, indulge not yet your limbs In wifli'd repofe; nor court the fanning gale, 220 J^or tafte the fpring. O ! by the facred tears

♦ The inflammation of the lungi.

Of

^^ ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of widows, orphans, mothers, fitters, fires.

Forbear! No other peftilence has driven

Such myriads o'er th' irremeable deep.

Why this fo fatal, the fagacious Mufe 225

Through nature's cunning labyrinth's could trace :

But there are fecrets which who knows not now,

Muft, ere he reach them, climb the heapy Alps

Of fcience; and devote feven years to toil.

Befides, I would not ftun your patient ears 230

With what it little boots you to attain.

He knows enough, the mariner, who knows

Where lurk the fhelves, and where the whirlpools boil.

What figns portend the ftorm : To fubtler minds

He leaves tofcan, from what myfterious caufe 235

Charybdis rages in th' Ionian wave;

Whence thofe impetuous currents in the main

Which neither oar nor fail can ftem ; and why

The roughening deep expefts the ftorm, as fure

As red Orion mounts the fhrouded heaven. 240

In ancient times, when Rome with Athens vied For poli(h"d luxury and ufeful arts ; All hot and reeking from th' Olympic ftrife. And warm Peleftra, in the tepid bath Th' athletic youth relax'd their weary limbs. 24^

Soft oils bedew "d them, with the grateful pow'rs Of Nard and Caffia fraught, to footh and heal The cherilh'd nerves. Our lefs voluptuous clime Not much invites us to fuch arts as thefe. 'Tis not for thofe, whom gelid Ikies embrace," 250 And chilling fogs ; whofe perfpiration feels

Such

I

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45

Such frequent bars from Eurus and the North ; 'Tis not for thofe to cultivate a fkin Too foft ; or teach the recremental fume Too faft to crowd through fuch precarious ways, 255 For through the fmall arterial mouths, that pierce In endlefs millions the clofe-woven fkin. The bafer fluids in a conftant ftream Efcape, and viewlefs melt into the winds. While this eternal, this moft copious, wafte 260

Of blood, degenerate into vapid brine. Maintains its wonted meafure, all the powers Of health befriend you, all the wheels of life With eafe and pleafure move : But this reftrain'd Or more or lefs, fo more or lefs you feel 265

The functions labour : From this fatal fource What woes defcend is never to be fung. To take their numbers were to count the fands That ride in whirlwind the parch'd Libyan air ; Or waves that, when the bluftering North embroils The Baltic, thunder on the German fliore. 270

Subjeft not then, by foft emollient arts. This grand expence, on which your fates depend. To every caprice of the Iky ; nor thwart' The genius of your clime: For from the blood 275 Leaft fickle rife the recremental fleams. And leaft obnoxious to the ftyptic air. Which breathe thro' ftraiter and more callous pores. The temper'd Scythian hence, half-naked treads His boundlefs fnows, nor rues th' inclement heaven; And hence our painted anceftors defied 2 8 1

The

^^ ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of widows, orphans, mothers, fifters, fires.

Forbear! No other peftilence has driven

Such myriads o'er th' irremeable deep.

Why this fo fatal, the fagacious Mufe 22^

Through nature's cunning labyrinth's could trace :

But there are fecrets which who knows not now,

Muft, ere he reach them, climb the heapy Alps

Of fcience; and devote feven years to toil.

Befides, I would not ftun your patient ears 230

With what it little boots you to attain.

He knows enough, the mariner, who knows

Where lurk the fhelves, and where the whirlpools boil.

What figns portend the ftorm : To fubtler minds

He leaves tofcan, from what myfterious caufe 235

Charybdis rages in th' Ionian wave;

Whence thofe impetuous currents in the main

Which neither oar nor fail can ftem ; and why

The roughening deep expefts the ftorm, as fure

As red Orion mounts the fhrouded heaven. 240

In ancient times, when Rome with Athens vied For polifa'd luxury and ufeful arts ; All hot and reeking from th' Olympic ftrife. And warm Peleftra, in the tepid bath Th' athletic youth relax'd their weary limbs. 245

Soft oils bedew 'd them, with the grateful pow'rs Of Nard and Caffia fraught, to footh and heal The cherifh'd nerves. Our lefs voluptuous clime Not much invites us to fuch arts as thefe. 'Tis not for thofe, whom gelid Ikies embrace," 250 And chilling fogs ; whofe perfpiration feels

Such

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. ^5

Such frequent bars from Eurus and the North; 'Tis not for thofe to cultivate a fkin Too foft ; or teach the recremental fume Too faft to crowd through fuch precarious ways, 255 For through the fmall arterial mouths, that pierce In endlefs millions the clofe -woven fkin. The bafer fluids in a conftant ftream Efcape, and viewlefs melt into the winds. While this eternal, this moft copious, wafte 260

Of blood, degenerate into vapid brine. Maintains its wonted meafure, all the powers Of health befriend you, all the wheels of life With eafe and pleafure move : But this reftrain'd Or more or lefs, fo more or lefs you feel 265

The functions labour : From this fatal fource What woes defcend is never to be fung. To take their numbers were to count the fands That ride in whirlwind the parch'd Libyan air ; Or waves that, when the bluftering North embroils The Baltic, thunder on the German fhore, 270

Subjeft not then, by foft emollient arts. This grand expence, on which your fates depend. To every caprice of the flcy ; hor thwart' The genius of your clime : For from the blood 27^ Leaft fickle rife the recremental fteams. And leaft obnoxious to the ftyptic air. Which breathe thro' ftraiter and more callous pores. The temper'd Scythian hence, half-naked treads His boundlefs fnows, nor rues th' inclement heaven; And hence our painted anceftors defied 2 8 r

The

45 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

The Eaft: nor curs'd, like us, their fickle Iky. The body, moulded by the clime, endures Th' Equator heats or Hyperborean froft : Except by habits foreign to its turn, 285

Unwife you counteraft its forming pow'r. Rude at the firft, the winter fhocks you lefs By long acquaintance : ftudy then your fky. Form to its manners your obfequious frame. And learn to fuffer what you cannot fhun, 290

Againft the rigours of a damp cold heav'n To fortify their bodies, fome frequent The gelid ciftern ; and, where nought forbids, I praife their dauntlefs heart : A frame fo fteel'd Dreads not the cough, nor thofe ungenial blafts 29^ That breathe the Tertian or fell Rheumatifm ; The nerves fo temper'd never quit their tone. No chronic languors haunt fuch hardy breafts. But all things have their bounds : and he who makes By daily ufe the kindell regimen 300

Effential to his health, fliould never mix With humankind, nor art nor trade purfue. He not the fafe viciifitudes of life Without fome fliock endures ; ill fitted he To want the known, or bear unufual things 30^

Befides, the powerful remedies of pain (Since pain in fpite of all our care will come) Should never with your profperous days of health Grow too familiar : For by frequent ufe The ftrongeft medicines lofe their healing power. And even the furelt poifons theirs to kill, 31 1

Let

I

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 47

Let thofe who from the frozen Arftos reach Parch'd Mauritania, or the fultry Weft, Or the wide flood that laves rich Indoftan, Plunge thrice a day, and in the tepid wave 31 j;

Untwift their ftubborn pores; that full and free Th' evaporation through the foften'd ftiin May bear proportion to the fwelling blood. So may they 'fcape the fever's rapid flames ; So feel untainted the hot breath of hell. ^20

With us, the man of no complaint demands The warm ablution juft enough to clear Thefluices of the fkin, enough to keep The body facred from indecent foil. Still to be pure, ev'n did it not conduce 32c

(As much it does) to health, were greatly worth Your daily pains. 'Tis this adorns the rich; The want of this is poverty's worft woej With this external virtue Age maintains A decent grace ; without it youth and charms 330 Are loathfomc. This the venal Graces know; So doubtlefs do your wives : For married fires. As well as lovers, ftill pretend to tafte ; Nor is it lefs (all prudent wives can tell) To lofe a hufband's than a lover's heart. 33^

But now the hours and feafons when to toil From foreign themes recall my wandering fong. Some labour fafting, or but flightly fed To lull the grinding ftomach's hungry rage. Where nature feeds too corpulent a frame 340

'Tis wifely done : For while the thirfty veins.

Impatient

4S ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Impatient of lean penury, devour

The treafur'd oil, then is the happieft time

To (hake the lazy balfam from its cells.

Now while the ftomach from the full repaft 345'

Subfides, but ere returning hunger gnaws.

Ye leaner habits, give an hour to toil :

And ye whom no luxuriancy of growth

Oppreffes yet, or threatens to opprefs.

But from the recent meal no labours pleafe, 350

Of limbs or mind. For now the cordial powers

Claim all the wandering fpirits to a work

Of fcrong and fubtle toil, and great event :

A work of time : and you may rue the day

You hurried, Vv'ith untimely exercife, 25S

A half-concofted chyle into the blood.

The body overcharg'd with unctuous phlegm

Much toil demands : The lean elaftic lefs.

While winter chills the blood and binds the veins.

No labours are too hard : By thofe you 'fcape 360

The flow difeafes of the torpid year;

Endlefs to name; to one of which alone.

To that which tears the nerves, the toil of flaves

Is pleafure; Oh! from fuch inhuman pains

May all be free who merit not the wheel! 365

But from the burning Lion when the fun

Pours down his fultry wrath ; now while the blood

Too much already maddens in the veins.

And all the finer fluids through the fkin

Explore their flight ; me, near the cool cafcade 370

Reclin'd, or fauntring in the lofty grove,

No

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45

No needlefs flight occafion fhould engage

To pant and fweat beneath the fiery noon.

Now the frefli morn alone and mellow eve

To Ihady walks and active rural fports j^C

Invite. But, while the chilling dews defcend,

-May nothing tempt you to the cold embrace

Of humid fkies ; though 'tis no vulgar joy

To trace the horrors of the folemn wood

While the foft evening faddens into night, 380

Though the fweet Poet of the vernal groves

Melts all the night in ftrains of am'rous woe.

The fliades defcend, and midnight o'er the world Expands her fable wings. Great Nature droops Through all her works. Now happy he whofe toil 3 S^ Has o'er his languid powerlefs limbs diiFus'd. A pleafmg laffitude : He not in vain Invokes the gentle Deity of dreams. His powers the moft voluptuoufly diffolve

■ In foft repofe : On him the balmy dews 350

Of fleep with double nutriment defcend.

But would you fweetly wafte the blank of nlgKt

In deep oblivion ; or on Fancy's wings

Vifit the paradife of happy Dreams,

And waken chearful as the lively morn ; 395

Opprefs not Nature fmking down to red

With fcafts too late, too folid, or too full :

But be the firft concoftion half-matur'd

Ere you to mighty indolence refign

Your paffive faculties. He from the toils 400

And troubles of the day to heavier toil Vol. LXXI. E Retires,

50 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Retires, whom trembling from the tower that rocks

Amid the clouds, or Calpe's hideous height.

The bufy demons hurl ; or in the main

O'erwhelm; or bury ftruggling under ground. ^05

Not all a monarch's luxury the woes

Can counterpoife of that moft wretched man,

Whofe nights are fhaken with the frantic fits

Of wild Oreftes ; whofe delirious brain 409

Stung by the Furies, works with poifon'd thought:

While pale and monftrous painting fliocks the foul;

And mangled confcioufnefs bemoans itfelf

¥or ever torn ; and chaos floating round.

What dreams prefage, what dangers thefe or thofe

Portend to fanity, though prudent feers 41 3:

Reveal'd of old and men of deathlefs fame.

We would not to the fuperftitious mind

Suggeft new throbs, new vanities of fear,

'Tis ours to teach you from the peaceful night

To banifh omens and all reftlefs woes. 420

In ftudy feme protraft the filent hours. Which others confecrate to mirth and v.-ine; And fleep till noon, and hardly live till night. But furely this redeems not from the (hades One hour of life. Nor does it nought avail 42^

What feafon you to drowfy Morpheus give Of th' ever-varying circle of the day; Or whether, through the tedious winter gloom. You tempt the midnight or the morning damps. The body, frelh and vigorous from repofe, 43 a

Pefies the early fogs : but, by the toils

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 51

Of wakeful day, exhaufted and unftrung.

Weakly refifts the night's unwholefome breath.

The grand difcharge, th' efFufion of the (kin.

Slowly impair'd, the languid maladies 43J

Creep on, and through the fickning funflions fteal.

As, when the chilling Eaft invades the fpring.

The delicate NarcifTus pines away

In heftic languor ; and a flow difeafe

Taints all the family of flowers, condemn 'd 440

To cruel heav'ns. But why, already prone

To fade, fliould beauty cherifli its own bane ?

O fliame ! O pity! nipt with pale Quadrille,

And midnight cares, the bloom of Albion dies!

By toil fubdued, the Warrior and the Hind 44J Sleep fall and deep: their aflive funftions foon With generous fl:reams the fubtle tubes fupply; And foon the tonic irritable nerves Feel thefrefli impulfe and awake the&ul. Thefons of indolence with long repofe, 4j;o

Grow torpid ; and with flowefl: Lethe drunk. Feebly and lingringly return to life. Blunt every fenfe and powerlefs every limb. Ye, prone to fleep (whom fleeping mofl; annoys) On the hard mattrefs or elaftic couch 4^;^

Extend your limbs, and wean yourfelves from floth; Nor grudge the lean projedlor, of dry brain And fpringy nerves, the blandifliments of down: Nor envy while the buried Bacchanal Exhales his furfeit in prolixer dreams, 460

E 2 He

5» ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

He without riot, in the balmy feaft

Of life, the wants of nature has fupply'd

Who rifes, cool, ferene, and full of foul.

But pliant nature more or lefs demands.

As cuftom forms her; and all fudden change 46^

She hates of habit, even from bad to good.

If faults in life, or new emergencies,

From habits urge you by longtime confirm'd.

Slow may the change arrive, and ftage by ftage ;

Slow as the fhadow o'er the dial moves, 470

Slow as the ftealing progrefs of the year.

Obferve the circling year. How unperceiv'd Herfeafons change! Behold! by flow degrees.

Stern Winter tam'd into a ruder Spring ; The ripen'd Spring a milder S ummer glows; 47 J

Departing Summer fheds Pomona's flore ; And aged Autumn brews the winter-ftorm. Slow as they come, thefe changes come not void Of mortallhocks : The cold and torrid reigns. The two great periods of th' important year, 480

Are in their firft approaches feldom fafe : Funereal Autumn all the fickly dread. And the black fates deform the lovely Spring. He well advis'd who taught our wifer fires Early to borrow Mufcovy's warm fpoiis, 485

Ere the firft froft has touch'd the tender blade; And late refign them, though the wanton Spring Should deck her charms with all her fitter's rays. For while the effluence of the fkin maintains Its native meafure> the pleuritic Spring 490

Glides

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 53

Glides harmlefs by; and Autumn, fick to death With fallow Quartans, no contagion breathes.

I in prophetic numbers could unfold T'he omens of the year : what feafons teem With what difeafes; what the humid South 49^

Prepares, and what the Demon of the Eaft : But you perhaps refufe the tedious fong. Befides, whatever plagues in heat, or cold. Or drought, or moifture dwell, they hurt not you, Skill'd to corredl the vices of the fky, 5;oo

And taught already how to each extream To bend your life. But (hould the public bane Infeft you ; or fome trefpafs of your own. Or flaw of nature, hint mortality : Soon as a not unpleafing horror glides jo^

Along the fpine, through all your torpid limbs ; When firft the head throbs, or the ftomach feels A fickly load, a weary pain the loins; Be Celfus call'd : The Fates come rufliing on ; The rapid Fates admit of no delay. ^ i o

While wilful you, and fatally fecure, Expeft to-morrow's more aufpicious fun. The growing peft, whofe infancy was weak And eafy vanquifh'd, with triumphant fway O'erpowers your life. For want of timely care, 5 1 5 Millions have died of medicable wounds.

Ah ! in what perils is vain life engag'd! What flight neglefts, what trivial faults deflroy The hardieft frame ! of indolence, of toil. We die ; of want, of fuperfluity : 520

E 3 The

51- ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

The all-furrounding heaven, the vital air. Is big with death. And, though the putrid South Be (hut; though no convulfive agony- Shake, from the deep foundations of the world, Th' imprifoned plagues; a fecret venom oft 525

Corrupts the air, the water, and the land. What livid deaths has fad Byzantium feen ! How oft has Cairo, ^\■ith a mother's woe. Wept oe'er her flaughter'd fons and lonely ftreets ! Even Albion, girt with lefs malignant fkies, 539

Albion the poifon of the Gods has drank. And felt the fting of monfters all her own.

Ere yet the fell Plantagenets had fpent Their ancient rage, at Bofworth's purple field ; While, for which tyrant England (hould receive, 555 Her legions in inceftuous murders mix'd. And daily horrors ; till the Fates were drunk With kindred blood by kindred hands profus'd : Another plague of more gigantic arm Arofe, a monfter never known before, 540

Rear'd from Cocytus its portentous head. This rapid Fury not, like other pcfts, Purfu'd a gradual courfe, but in a day Rufli'd as a ftorm o'er half th' aftoniftied ifle. And ftrew'd with fudden carcafes the land. 54^

Firft through the fhoulders or whatever part Was feiz'd the firft, a fervid vapour fprung. With rafli combuftion thence, the quivering fpark Shot to the heart, and kindled all within ; And foon the furface caught the fpreading fires. 5^0 Through all the yielding pores, the melted blood

Gufh'd

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. ^

Gudi'd out in fmoaky fweats ; but nought affuag'd

The torrid heat within, nor aught reliev'd

The ftomach's anguifh. With inceflant toil,

Defperate of eafe, impatient of their pain, 55^

They tofs'd from fide to fide. In vain the ftreara

Ran full and clear, they burnt and thirfted ftill.

The reftlefs arteries with rapid blood

Beat ftrong and frequent. Thick and pantingly

The breath was fetch'd, and with huge lab'rings heav'd.

At laft a heavy pain opprefs'd the head, 561

A wild delirium came ; their weeping friends

Were ftrangers now, and this no home of theirs.

Harrafs'd with toil on toil, the finking powers

Lay proftrate and o'erthrown; a ponderous fleep ^6^

Wrapt all the fenfes up : they flept and died.

In fome a gentle horror crept at firft Oer all the limbs ; the fluices of the fkin Withheld their moifture, till by art provok'd The fweats o'erflow'd; but in a clammy tide: 1,70

Now free and copious, now reftrain'd and flow j Of tinftures various, as the temperature Had mix"d the blood; and rank with fetid fteams : As if the pent-up humours by delay Were grown more fell, more putrid, and malign. 57^ Here lay their hopes; (though little hope reraain'd) With full efFufion of perpetual fweats To drive the venom out. And here the fates Were kind, that long they linger'd not in pain. For who furviv'd the fun's diurnal race 580

Rofe from the dreary gates of hell redeem'd : Some the fixth hour opprefs'd, and fome the third,

E 4 Of

56 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of many thoufands few untainted 'fcap'd; Of thofe infefted fewer "fcap'd alive ; Of thofe who livd fome felt a fecond blow; 58^

And whom the fecond fpar'd a third deftroy'd. Frantic with fear, they fought by flight to fhun] The fierce contagion. O'er the mournful land Th' infefted city pour'd her hurrying fwarms : Rous'd by the flames that fir'd her feats around, 590 Th' infedled country rufli'd into the town. Some, fad at home, and in the defart fome, Abjur'd the fatal commerce of mankind ; In vain : where'er they fled, the Fates purfu'd. Others, with hopes more fpecious, crofs'd the main. To feek proteftion in far diftant fkies; 596

But none they found. It feem'd the general air. From pole to pole, from Atlas to the Eaft, Was then at enmity with Englifh blood. For, but the race of England, all were fafe In foreign climes ; nor did this Fury tafte 600

The foreign blood which England then contain'd. Where fliould they fly? The circumambient heaven Involv'dthem ftill; and every breeze was bane. Wliere find relief ? The falutary art Was mute; and ftartled at the new difeafe, 605'

In fearful whifpers hopelefs omens gave. '';■

To Heaven with fuppliant rites they fent their prayers; Heaven heard them not. Of every hope deprived ; Fatigu'd with vain refources; and fubduedj With woes refiftlefs and enfeebling fear; 610

Paffive they funk beneath the weighty blow. Nothing but lamentable founds was heard,

NoJ

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 57

Nor aught wasfeenbut ghaftly views of death.

Infeftious horror ran from face to face.

And paledefpair. 'Twas all the bufinefs then 615

To tend the fick, and in their turns to die.

In heaps they fell: and oft one bed, they fay.

The fickening, dying, and the dead contained.

Ye guardian Gods, on whom the Fates depend Of tottering Albion! ye eternal Fires 620

That lead through heaven the wandering year! yepowers That o'er th' incircling elements prefide! May nothing worfe than what this age has feen Arrive! Enough abroad, enough at home Has Albion bled. Here a diftemper'd heaven 625 Has thin'd her cities ; from thofe lofty cliffs That awe proud Gaul, to Thule's wintry reign; While in the Weft, beyond th' Atlantic foam. Her braveft fons, keen for the fight, have dy'd. The death of cowards and of common men : 630

Sunk void of wounds, and fall'n without renown.

But from thefe views^the weeping Mufes turn. And other themes invite my wandering fong.

THE

[ 58 ] THE ART

O F

PRESERVING HEALTH. B O O K IV.

THE PASSIONS.

THE choice of Aliment, the choice of Air, The ufe of Toil and all external things. Already fung ; it now remains to trace What good, what evil from ourfelves proceeds : And how the fubtle Principle within j

Infpires with health, or mines with ftrange decay The paflive Body. Ye poetic Shades, Who know the iecrets of the world unfeen, Affift my fong ! For, in a doubtful theme Engag'd, I wander through myfterious ways. IC

There is, they fay (and I believe there is) A fpark within us of th' immortal fire. That animates and moulds the groffer frame; And when the body fmks efcapes to heaven. Its native feat, and mixes with the Gods. 15

Mean while this heavenly particle pervades The mortal elements; in every nerve

^

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 59

It thrills with pleafure, or grows mad with pain.

And, in its fecret conclave, as it feels

The body's wees and joys, this ruling power 20

Wields at its will the dull material world.

And is the body's health or malady.

By its own toil the grofs corporeal frame Fatigues, extenuates, or deftroys itfclf. Nor lefs the labours of the mind corrode 25

The folid fabric : for by fubtle parts And viewlefs atoms, fecret Nature moves The mighty wheels of this ftupendous world. By fubtle fluids pour'd through fubtle tubes The natural, vital, functions are perform'd. 30

By thefe the ftubborn aliments are tam'd; The toiling heart diftributes life and ftrength ; Thefe the ftill-crumbling frame rebuild; and thefe Are loft in thinking, and diffolve in air.

But 'tis not Thought (for ftill the foul's employ 'd) 'Tis painful thinking that corrodes our clay. 36

All day the vacant eye vvithout fatigue Strays o'er the heaven and earth ; but long intent On microfcopic arts its vigour fails. Juft fo the mind, with various thought amus'd, 40 Nor akes itfelf, nor gives the body pain. But anxious Study, Difcontent, and Care, Love without hope, and Hate without revenge. And Fear, and Jealoufy, fatigue the foul, Engrofs the fubtle minifters of life, 45

And fpoil the lab'ring functions of their fhare. Hence the lean gloom that Melancholy wears;

4 The

6o ARMSTRONG'S POExMS.

The Lover's palenefs ; and the fallow hue

Of Envy, Jealoufy; the meagre flare

Of fore Revenge: the canker'd bod}- hence 50

Eetrays each fretful motion of the mind.

The ftrong-built pedant; who both night and day Feeds on the coarfeft fare the fchools beftow. And crudely fattens at grofs Burman's ftall; 0'erwhelm"d with phlegm lies in a dropfy drown'd. Or finks in lethargy before his time. 56

With ufeful ftudies you, and arts that pleafe Employ your mind, amufe but not fatigue. Peace to each droufy metaphyfic fage ! And ever may all heavy fyftems reft! 60

Yet fome there are, even of elaftic parts. Whom ftrong and obftinate ambition leads Through all the rugged roads of barren lore. And gives to relifh what their generous tafte Would elfe refufe. But may nor thirft of fame, 6^ Nor love of knowledge, urge you to fatigue With conftant drudgery the liberal foul. Toy with your books; and, as the various fits Of humour feize you, from Philofophy To Fable fliift] from ferious Antonine •to

To Rabelais' ravings, and from profe to fong.

While reading pleafes, but no longer, read; And read aloud refounding Homer's ftrain. And wield the thunder of Demofthenes. The cheft fo exercis'd improves its ftrength; 7^

And quick vibrations through the bowels drive The xelllefs blood, which in una^ve days

Would

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. fii

Would loiter elfe through unelaftic tubes.

Deem it not trifling while I recommend

What pofture fuits : ^To ftand and fit by turns, 80

As nature prompts, is beft. But o'er your leaves

To lean for ever, cramps the vital parts.

And robs the fine machinery of its play.

'Tis the great art of life to manage well The reftlefs mind. For ever on purfuit 85

Of knowledge bent, it ftarves the groflfer powers : Quite unemploy'd, againft its own repofe It turns its fatal edge, and fliarper pangs Than w hat the body knows embitter life. Chiefly where Solitude, fad nurfe of Care, 9a

To fickly mufing gives the penfive mind. There Madnefs enters; and the dim-ey'd Fiend, Sour Melancholy, night and day provokes Her own eternal wound. The fun grows palej A mournful vifionary light o'erfpreads 95

The chearful face of nature : earth becomes A dreary defart, and heaven frowns above. Then various fliapes of curs'd illufion rife: Whate'er the wretched fears, creating Fear Forms out of nothing; and with monfters teems 1 00 Unknown in hell. The proftrate foul beneath A load of huge imagination heaves ; And all the horrors that the murderer feels With anxious flutterings wake the guiltlefs breaft.

Such phantoms Pride in folitary fcenes, 1 05

Or Fear, on delicate Self-love creates. From other cares abfolv'd, the bufy mind

Finds

6a ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Finds in yourfelf a theme to pore upon ;

It finds you miferable, or makes you fo.

For while yourfelf you anxioufly explore, i lo

Timorous Self-love, with fickning Fancy's aid,

Prefents the danger that you dread the moft.

And ever galls you in your tender part.

Hence fome for love, and fome for jealoufy. For grim religion fome, and fome for pride, i ic

Have loft their reafon: fome for fear of want Want all their lives ; and others every day For fear of dying fuffer worfe than death. Ah! from your bofoms banifh, if you can, Thofe fatal guefts : and firfl the Dsemon Fear; 120 That trembles at impoflible events. Left aged Atlas fhould refign his load. And heaven's eternal battlements rufh down. Is there an evil worfe than Fear itfelf ? Apd what avails it, that indulgent heaven rzjf

From mortal eyes has wrapt the woes to come. If we, ingenious to torment ourfelves. Grow pale at hideous fiiftions of our own ? Enjoy the prefent; nor with needlefs cares. Of what may fpring from blind misfortune's womb. Appall the fureft hour that life beftows. 131

Serene, and mafter of yourfelf, prepare For what may come; and leave the reft to Heaven.

Oft from the Body, by long ails miftun'd, Thefe evils fprung the moft important health, 135 That of the Mind, deftroy : and when the mind They firft invade, the confcious body foon

In

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. $3

In fympathetic languifliment declijies.

Thefe chronic Paffions.. while from real woes

They rife, and yet without the body's fault 140

Infeft the foul, admit one only cure ;

Diverfion, hurry, and a reftlefs life.

Vain are the confolations of the wife ;

In vain your friends would reafon down your pain.

O ye, whofe fouls relendefs love has tam'd 14^

To foft diftrefs, or friends untimely fall'n!

Court not the luxury of tender thought;

Nor deem it impious to forget thofe pains

That hurt the living, nought avail the dead.

Go, foft enthufiaft! quit the cyprefs groves, 150

Nor to the rivulet's lonely moanings tune

Your fad complaint. Go, feek the chearful haunts

Of men, and mingle with the buftling crowd ;

Lay fchemes for wealth, or power, or fame, the wi(h

Of nobler minds, and pufh them night and day.

Or join the caravan in queft of fcenes 156

New to your eyes, and fhifting every hour.

Beyond the Alps, beyond the Apennines.

Or more advent'rous, rufh into the field

Where war grows hot ; and, raging through the Iky,

The lofty trumpet fwells the madd'ning foul; 1 61

And in the hardy camp and toilfome march

Forget all fofter and lefs manly cares.

But moft too paflive, when the blood runs low. Too weakly indolent to ftrive with pain, 16^

And bravely by refitting conquer Fate, Try Circe's arts ; and in the tempting bowl

Of

64 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of poifon'd Neftar fweet oblivion fwill.

Struck by the pow'rful charm, the gloom diffolves

In empty air; Elyfium opens round, lyo

A pleafing phrenzy buoys the Hghten'd foul.

And fanguine hopes difpel your fleeting care ;

And what was difficult, and what was dire.

Yields to your prowefs and fuperior ftars :

The happieft you of all that e'er were mad, lyr

Or are, or Iball be, could this folly laft.

But foon your heaven is gone; a heavier gloom

Shuts o'er your head : and, as the thund'ring ftream,

Swoln o'er its banks with fudden mountain rain.

Sinks from its tumult to a filent brook; 1 80

So, when the frantic raptures in your breaft

Subfide, you languifh into mortal man ;

You fleep, and waking find you rfelf undone.

For prodigal of life in one raOi night 1 84

You lavifh'd more than might fupport three days.

A heavy morning comes; your cares return

With tenfold j'age. An anxious ftomach well

May be endur'd ; fo may the throbbing-head :

But fuch a dim delirium, fuch a dream.

Involves you ; fuch a daftardly defpair 190

Unmans your foul, as madd'ning Pentheus felt.

When, baited round Cithasron's cruel fides.

He faw two funs, and double Thebes afcend.

You curfe the fluggifh Port; you curfe the wretch.

The felon, with unnatural mixture firft 195

Who dar'd to violate the virgin Wine.

Or on the fugitive Champain you pour

A thoufand

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 65

A thoufaiid curfes; for to heav'n it rapt

Your foul, to plunge you deeper in defpair.

Perhaps you rue even that divineft gift, 200

The gay, ferene, good-natur'd Burgundy,

Or the frefli fragrant vintage of the Rhine:

And wifli that heaven from mortals had with-held

The grape, and all intoxicating bowls.

Befides, it wounds you fore to recolleft 205

What follies in your loofe unguarded hour Efcap'd. For one irrevocable word. Perhaps that meant no harm, you lofe a friend. Or in the rage of wine your hafty hand Performs a deed to haunt you to the grave. 210

Add that your means, your health, your parts decay; Your friends avoid you; brutifhly transform 'd They hardly know you ; or if one remains To wifh you well, he wifhes you in heaven. Defpis'd, unwept you fall; who might have left 215 A facred, cherifli'd, fadly-pleafing name ; A name ftill to be utter'd with a figh. Your laft ungraceful fcene has quite efFac'd All fenfe and memory of your former worth.

How to live happieft; how avoid the pains, 220 The difappointments, and difgufts of thofe Who would in pleafure all their hours employ ; The Precepts here of a divine old man I could recite. Though old, he ftill retain'd His manly fenfe, and energy of mind. 225

Virtuous and wife he was, but not fevere ; He ftill remember'd that he once was young; Vol. LXXI. F His

c6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

His eafy prefence check'd no decent joy.

Him even the diffolute admir'd ; for he

A graceful loofenefs when he pleas'd put on, 230^

And laughing could inftruft. Much had he read.

Much more had feen; he ftudied from the life.

And in th' original perus'd mankind.

Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life. He pitied Man : and much he pitied thofe 23 j;

Whom falfely-fmiling Fate has curs'd with means To diffipate their days in queft of joy. Our aim is happinefs ; 'tis yours, 'tis mine. He faid, 'tis the purfuit of all that live; Yet few attain it, if twas e'er attain'd. 24O

But they the wideft wander from the mark. Who through the flow'ry paths of faunt'ring Joy Seek this coy Goddefs ; that from ftage to ftage Invites us ftill, but fhifts as we purfue. For, not to name the pains that pleafure brings 24^ To counterpoife itfelf, relentlefs Fate Forbids that we through gay voluptuous wilds. Should ever roam ; and were the Fates more kind. Our narrow luxuries would foon grow ftale. Were thefe exhauftlefs. Nature would grow Cck, 250 And, cloy"d with pleafure, fqueamiflily complain That all is vanity, and life a dream. Let nature reft: be bufy for yourfelf. And for your friend; be bufy even in vain Rather than teize her fated appetites. 255

Who never fafts, no banquet e'er enjoys; Who never toils or watches, never fleeps.

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 67

i.et nature reft: and when the tafte of joy Grows keen, indulge; but fliun fatiety.

'Tis not for mortals always to be bleft. 260

Kilt him the lead the dull or painful hours Of life opprefs, whom fober Senfe conduds. And Virtue, through this labyrinth we tread. Virtue and Senfe I mean not to disjoin; V^irtue and Senfe are one : and, truft me, ftill 265 A faithlefs Heart betrays the Head unfound. Virtue (for mere Good-nature is a fool) Is Senfe and Spirit, with Humanity : 'Tis fometimes angry, and its frown confounds; 'Tis even vindiftive, but in vengeance juft. 270

Knaves fain would laugh at it ; fome great ones dare ; But at his heart the moft undaunted fon Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms. To nobleft ufes this determines wealth ; This is the folid pomp of profperous days; 27^

The peace and (belter of adverfity. And if you pant for glory, build your fame On this foundation, which the fecret fhock Defies of Envy and all-fapping time. The gaudy glofs of fortune only ftrikes 280

The vulgar eye: the fuffrage of the wife. The praife that's worth ambition, is attain'd By Senfe alone, and dignity of mind.

Virtue, the ftrength and beauty of the foul, h the beft gift of heaven: a happinefs 28^

That even above the fmiles and frowns of fate Exalts great Nature's favourites : a wealth

F z That

68 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

That ne'er encumbers, nor can be transferr'd.

Riches are oft by guilt and bafenefs earn'd ;

Or dealt by chance, to fhield a lucky knave, 290

Or throw a cruel fun-fhine on a fool.

But for one end, one much-negleded ufe.

Are riches worth your care : (for Nature's wants

Are few, and without opulence fupply'd.)

This noble end is, to produce the Soul; 295

To {hew the virtues in their faireft light;

To make Humanity the Minifter

Of bounteous Providence ; and teach the breaft

That generous luxury the Gods enjoy.

Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly Sage 300 Sometimes declaim'd. Of Right and Wrong he taught Truths as refin"d as ever Athens heard ; And (ftrange to tell!) he praftis'd what he preach'd. Skill'd in the Paffions, how to check their fway He knew, as far as Reafon can control 305

The lawlefs Powers. But other cares are mine : Form'd in the fchool of Pson, I relate What Paffions hurt the body, what improve : Avoid them, or invite them, as you may.

Know then, whatever chearful and ferene 3 1 o

Supports the mind, fuppcrts the body too. Hence, the moft vital movement mortals feel Is Hope; the balm and life-blood of the foul. It pleafes, and it lafts. Indulgent heaven Sent down the kind delufion, through the paths 315; Of rugged life to lead us patient on; And make our happieft Hate no tedious thing.

Ouj

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 69

Our greateft good, and what we leaft can fpare. Is Hope : the laft of all our evils. Fear.

But there are Pafllons grateful to the breaft, 320 And yet no friends to Life : perhaps they pleafe Or to excefs, and diffipate the foul ; Or while they pleafe, torment. The ftubborn Clown, The ill-tam'd Ruffian, and pale Ufurer, (If Love's omnipotence fuch hearts can mould) 325 May fafely mellow into love; and grow Refin'd, humane, and generous, if they can. Love in fuch bofoms never to a fault Or pains or pleafes. But, ye finer Souls, Form'd to foft luxury, and prompt to thrill 330

With all the tumults, all the joys and pains. That beauty gives ; with caution and referve Indulge the fweet deftroyer of repofe. Nor court too much the Queen of charming cares. For, while the cherifli'd poifon in your breaft 335 Ferments and maddens ; fick with jealoufy, Abfence, diftruft, or even with anxious joy. The wholefome appetites and powers of life DifTolve in languor. The coy ftomach loaths 339 The genial boaid : Your chearful days are gone; The generous bloom that flulh'd your cheeks is fled. To fighs devoted and to tender pains, Penfive you fit, or folitary ftray. And wafte your youth in mufing. Mufing firft Toy'd into care your unfufpefting heart: 345

It found a liking there, a fportful fire. And that fomented into ferious love j

F 3 Which

70 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Which mufing daily ftrengtLcns and improves

Through all the heights of fondnefs and romance:

And you're undone, the fatal fhaft has fped, 350

If once you doubt whether you love or no.

The body waftes away; th' infefted mind,

Biflblv'd in female tendernefs, forgets

Each manly virtue, and grows dead to fame.

Sweet heaven from fuch intoxicating charms 35JJ

Defend all worthy breafts ! Not that I deem

Love always dangerous, always to be fhun'd.

Love well repaid, and not too weakly funk

In wanton and unmanly tendernefs.

Adds bloom to Health ; o'er ev'ry virtue fheds 360

A gay, humane, a fweet, and generous grace.

And brightens all the ornaments of man.

But fruitlefs, hopelefs, difappointed, rack'd

With jealoufy, fatigu'd with hope and fear.

Too ferious, or too languifhingly fond, ^6^

Unnerves the body and unmans the faul.

And fome have died for love ; and fome run mad ;

And fome with defperate hands themfelves have flain.

Some to extinguifh, others to prevent, A mad devotion to one dangerous Fair, 370

Court all they meet; in hopes to diffipate The cares of Love amongft an hundred Brides. Th' event is doubtful : for there are who find A cure in this ; there are who find it not. 'Tis no relief, alas! it rather galls 375

The wound, to thofe who are fincerely fick. For while from feverifh and tumultuous joys

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 71

The nerves grow languid and the foul fubfides.

The tender fancy fmarts with every fting.

And what was Love before is Madnefs now. 38a

Is health your care, or luxury your aim.

Be temperate (till: When Nature bids, obey^

Her wild impatient fallies bear no curb:

But when the prurient habit of delight.

Or loofe Imagination, fpurs you on 38^

To deeds above your ftrength, impute it not

To Nature : Nature all compulfion hates.

Ah! let nor luxury nor vain renown

Urge you to feats you well might fleep without j

To make what Ihould be rapture a fatigue, 390

A tedious talk ; nor in the wanton arms

Of twining Lai's melt your manhood down.

For from the colliquation of foftjoys

How chang'd you rife! the ghoft of what you was!

Languid, and melancholy, and gaunt, and wan; 395

Your veins exhaufted, and your nerves unftrung.

Spoil'd of its balm and fprightly zeft, the blood

Grows vapid phlegm; along the tender nerves

I To each flight impulfe tremblingly awake)

A fubtle Fiend that mimics all the plagues 400

Rapid and reftlefs fprings from part to part.

The blooming honours of your youth are fallen;

Your vigour pines; your vital powers decay ;

Difeafes haunt you ; and untimely Age

Creeps on ; unfocial, impotent, and lewd. 40^

Infatuate, impious, epicure! to wafte

The ftores of pleafvire, chearfulnefs, and health!

F 4 Infatuate

7* ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Infatuate all who make delight their trade. And coy perdition every hour purfue.

Who pines with Love, or in lafcivious flames 410 Confumes, is with his own confent undone : He choofes to be wretched, to be mad ; And warn'd proceeds and wilful to his fate. But there's a Paffion, whofe tempeftuous fway Tears up each virtue planted in the bread, 415

And fliakes to ruins proud Philofophy. For pale and trembling Anger rufhes in, With faultVing fpeech, and eyes that wildly ftare; Fierce as the Tiger, madder than the feas, Defperate, and arm'd with more than human ftrength. How foon the calm, humane, and polifh'd man 421 Forgets compunction, and ftarts up a fiend! Who pines in Love, or waftes with filent Cares, Envy, or ignominy, or tender grief. Slowly defcends, and ling'ring, to the (hades. 425 But he whom Anger flings, drops, if he dies. At once, and rulhes apopleftic down ; Or a fierce fever hurries liim to hell. For, as the Body through unnumber'd ftrings Reverberates each vibration of the Soulj 430

As is the Pafllon, fuch is ftill the Pain The Body feels : or chronic, or acute. And oft a fudden ftorm at once overpowers The Life, or gives your Reafon to the winds. Such fates attend the rafh alarm of Fear, 43^

And fudden Grief, and Rage, and fudden Joy.

There

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 73

There are, mean time, to whom the boift'rous fit Is Heahh, and only fills the fails of life. For where the mmd a torpid winter leads. Wrapt in a body corpulent and cold, 44.0

And each clogg'd funftion lazily moves on ; A generous fally fpurns th' incumbent load. Unlocks the breaft, and gives a cordial glow. But if your wrathful blood is apt to boil. Or are your nerves too irritably ftrung, 44^

Wave all difpute; be cautious, if you joke; Keep Lent for ever; and forfwear the Bowl. For one rafh moment fends you to the (hades. Or fhatters ev'ry hopeful fcheme of life. And gives to horror all your days to come. 450

Fate, arm'd with thunder, fire, and ev'ry plague. That ruins, tortures, or diftrafts mankind. And mals.es the happy wretched in an hour, O'erwhelms you not with woes fo horrible As your own wrath, nor gives more fudden blows. 455

While Choler works, good Friend, you may be wrong ; Diftruft yourfelf, and fleep before you fight. 'Tis not too late to-morrow to be brave; If honour bids, to-morrow kill or die. But calm advice againft a raging fit 460

Avails too little ; and it braves the power Of all that ever taught in Profe or Song, To tame the Fiend that fleeps a gentle Lamb, And wakes a Lion. Unprovok'd and calm. You reafon well; fee as you ought to fee, 465

And

74. ARMSTRONG'S POExMS.

And wonder at the madnefs of mankind;

Seiz'd with the common rage, you foon forget

The fpeculations of your wifer hours.

Befet with Furies of all deadly fhapes.

Fierce and infidious, violent and flow: 470

With all that urge or lure us on to Fate :

What refuge (hall we feek? what arms prepare?

Where Reafon proves too weak, or void of wiles

To cope with fubtle or impetuous powers,

I would invoke new Paflions to your aid: 475

With Indignation would extinguifh Fear,

With Fear or generous Pity vanquifli Rage,

And Love with Pride; and force to force oppofe.

There is a Charm, a Power, that fways the breaft; Bids every Paffion revel or be ftill; 480

Infpires with Rage, or all your Cares diffolves; Can footh Diftradion, and almoft Defpair. That power is Mufic : Far beyond the ftretch Of thofe unmeaning warblers on our ftage; Thofe clumfy Pieroes, thofe fat-headed Gods, 485 Who move no paflion juftly but Contempt: Who, like our dancers (light indeed and ftrong!) Do wond'rous feats, but never heard of grace. The fault is ours; we bear thofe monftrous arts; Good Heaven! wepraife them: we, with loudeft peals. Applaud the fool that higheft lifts his heels; 491

And, with infipid fhew of rapture, die Of ideot notes impertinently long. But he the Mufe's laurel juftly fhares, A Poet he, and touchd with Heaven's own fire; 495: 5 Who,

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 75

Who, with bold rage or folemn pomp of founds.

Inflames, exalts, and ravifiies the foul ;

Now tender, plaintive, fweet almoft to pain.

In Love diffolves you; now in fprightly ilrains

Breathes a gay rapture thro' your thrilling breaft ; 500

Or melts the heart with airs divinely fad ;

Or wakes to horror the tremendous ftrings.

Such was the Bard, whofe heavenly ftrains of old

Appeas'd the fiend of melancholy Saul.

Such was, if old and heathen fame fay true, 505

The man who bade the Theban domes afcend.

And tam'd the favage nations with his fong;

And fuch the Thracian, whofe melodious lyre,

Tun'd to foft woe, made all the mountains weep ;

Sooth'd even th' inexorable powers of Hell, 510

And half redeem'd his loft Eurydice.

Mufic exalts each Joy, allays each Grief,

Expels Difeafes, foftens every Pain,

Subdues the rage of Poifon, and the Plague;

And hence the wife of ancient days ador'd 515

One Power of Phyfic, Melody, and Song.

OF

C 76 ]

O F

BENEVOLENCE:

EPISTLE TO EUMENES*. 1751.

KIND to my frailties ftill, Eutnenes, hear; Once more I try the patience of your ear. NcU: oft I fmg ; the happier for the town, "j

So ftun'd already they're quite ftupid grown l

With monthly, daily — charming things I own. 5 J Happy for them, I feldom court the Nine; Another art, a ferious art is mine. Of naufeous verfes offer 'd once a week. You caiinot fay I did it, if you're fick. 'Twas ne'er my pride to fhine by flafhy fits 10

Amongfl the daily, weekly, monthly wits. Content if fome few friends indulge my name. So flightly am I flung with love of fame, I would not fcrawl one hundred idle lines — Not for the praife of all the Magazines. i^

* This little piece was addrefled to a worthy Gentleman, as an expreflion of gratitude for his kind endeavours to do the Author a great piece of fervice.

Yet

OF BENEVOLENCE. 77

Yet once a moon, perhaps, I fleal a night; And, if our fire Apollo pleafes, write. You fniile; but all the train the Mufe that follow, Chriftians and dunces, ftill we quote Apollo. Unhappy ftill our poets will rehearfe 20

To Goths, that ftare aftonifh'd at their verfe; To the rank tribes fubmit their virgin lays : So grofs, fo beftial, is the luft of praife !

I to found judges from the mob appeal. And write to thofe who moft my fubjeft feel. 2j

Eumenes, thefe dry moral lines I truft With you, whom nought that's moral can difguft. With you I venture, in plain home-fpun fenfe. What I imagine of Benevolence.

Of all the monfters of the human kind, 30

What ftrikes you moft is the low felfifh mind. You wonder how, without one liberal joy. The fteady mifer can his years employ ; Without one friend, howe'er his fortunes thrive, Defpis'd and hated, how he bears to live. 35

With honeft warmth of heart, with fome degree Of pity that fuch wretched things fhould be. You fcorn the fordid knave — He grins at you. And deems himfelf the wifer of the two. — 'Tis all but tafte, howe'er we fift the cafe ; 40

He has his joy, as every creature has. 'Tis true, he cannot boaft an angel's fliare. Yet has what happinefs his organs bear. Thou likew/e mad'ft the high feraphic foul. Maker Omnipotent I and thou the owl, 4j

Heav'n

7« ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Heav'n form'd him too, and doubtlefs for fome ufe: But Crane-court knows not yet all nature's views.

'Tis chiefly tafte, or blunt, or grofs, or fine. Makes life infipid, beftial, or divine. Better be born with tafte to little rent, 50

Than the dull monarch of a continent. Without this bounty which the Gods beftow. Can fortune make one favourite happy? — No, As well might fortune in her frolic vein. Proclaim an Oyfter fovereign of the main. 55

Without fine nerves, and bofom juftly warm'd. An eye, an ear, a fancy to be charm'd. In vain majeftic Wren expands the dome j Blank as pale ftucco Rubens lines the room : Loft are the raptures of bold Handel's ftrain; 60

Great Tully ftorms, fweet Virgil fings, in vain. The beauteous forms of nature are efFac'd; Tempe's foft charms, the raging watry wafte. Each greatly-wild, each fweet romantic fcene Unheeded rifes, and almoft unfeen. 6j

Yet thefe are joys, with fome of better clay. To footh the toils of life's embarrafs'd way. Thefe the fine frame with charming horrors chill. And give the nerves delightfully to thrill. But of all Tafte the nobleft and the beft, 70

The firft enjoyment of the generous breaft. Is to behold in man's obnoxious ftate Scenes of content, and happy turns of fate. Fair views of nature, Ihining works of art, Amufe the fancy : but thfe touch the heart, 7,

Chiefly

OF BENEVOLENCE. 79

Chiefly for this proud epic fong delights.

For this fome riot on th' Arabian Nights.

Each cafe is ours : and for the human mind

'Tis monftrous not to feel for all mankind.

Were all mankind unhappy, who could tafte 80

Elyfium ? or be folitarily bleft ?

Shock'd with furrounding fhapes of human woe.

All that or fenfe or fancy could beftow.

You would rejeft with fick and coy difdain.

And pant to fee one chearful face again. 8c

But if life's better profpefts to behold So much delight the man of generous mould ; How happy they, the great, the godlike few. Who daily cultivate this pleafing view ! This is a joy poffefs'd by few indeed ! 50

Dame fortune has fo many fools to feed. She cannot oft afford, with all her ftore. To yield her fmiles where nature fmil'd before. To finking worth a cordial hand to lend ; With better fortune to furprize a friend ; 5^

To chear the modeft ftranger's lonely ftatej Or fnatch an orphan family from fate ; To do, poffefs'd with virtue's nobleft fire. Such generous deeds as we with tears admire; Deeds that, above ambition's vulgar aim, lOO

Secure an amiable, a folid fame : Thefe are fuch joys as heaven's firft favourites feize; Thefe pleafe you now, and will for ever pleafe.

Too feldom we great moral deeds admire; The will, the power, th' occafion muft confpire, 10^

Yet

So ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Yet few there are fo impotent and low.

But can fome fmall good offices beftow.

Small as they are, however cheap they come.

They add (till fomething to the general fum :

And him who gives the little in his power, no

The world acquits; and heaven demands no more.

Unhappy he ! who feels each neighbour's woe. Yet no relief, no comfort can beftow. Unhappy too, who feels each kind eflay. And for great favours has but words to pay; 115

"Who, fcornful of the flatterer's fawning art. Dreads even to pour his gratitude of heart ; And with a diftant lover's filent pain Muft the beft movements of his foul reftrain. But men fagacious to explore mankind 1 20

Trace even the coyeft paffions of the mind.

Not only to the good we owe good-will ; In good and bad diftrefs demands it ftill. This with the generous lays diftinftion low. Endears a friend, and recommends a foe. i2j^

Not that refentment never ought to rife ; For even excefs of virtue ranks with vice : And there are villainies no bench can awe. That fport-widiout the limits of the law. No laws th' ungenerous crime would reprehend 130 Could I forget Eumenes was my friend: In vain the gibbet or the pillory claim The wretch who blafts a helplefs virgin's hme. Where laws are dup'd, 'tis nor unjuft nor mean To feize the proper time for honeft fpleen. 135

An

OT BENEVOLENCE. 81

An open candid foe I could not hate. Nor even infuk the bafe in humbled ftatej But thriving malice tamely to forgive — 'Tis fomewhat late to be fo primitive.

But I detain you with thefe tedious lays, 140

Which few perhaps would read, and fewer praife. No matter : could I pleafe the polifh'd few Who tafte the ferious or the gay like you. The fqueamifh mob may find my verfes bare Of every grace — but curfe Me if I care. 145

Befides, I little court Parnaffian fame ; There's yet a better than a poet's name. 'Twould more indulge my pride to hear it faid That I with you the paths of honour tread. Than that amongft the proud poetic train 1 50

No modern boafted a more claflic vein ; Or that in numbers I let loofe my fong, Smooth as the Tweed, and as the Severn ftrong.

Vol. LXXI. G TASTE;

• [ 82 3

T A S T E:

A N

EPISTLE

T O

A YOUNG CRITIC. 175:3.

*• Profeyre quafenilai cur quifquam liber dubitet ? — Maiim, Wf-. •' hercule, foius infanire, quam fobrius aut flebis aut fatrum

*' delhadonibus ignaviter ajfentari."

Autor anonym. Fragm.

RANGE from Tower-hill all London to the Fleet,. Thence round the Temple, t' utmoft Grofvenor- ftreet : Take in your route both Gray's and Lincoln's Inn ; Mifs not, be Aire, my Lords and Gentlemen j You'll hardly raife, as I with * Petty guefs. Above twelve thoufand men of tafte ; unlefs In defperate times a Coniioljfeur may pafs.

** A Connoiffeur! What's that?" 'Tis hard to fay: But you muft oft amid ft the fair and gay Have feen a wou'd-be rake, a fluttering fool, 10

Who fwears he loves the fex with all his foul.

* Sir William Petty, author of Has, FolltUd Arithmetic.

Alas,

'}

TASTE. Sj

Alas, vain youth! doft thou admire fvveet Jones? Thou be gallant without or blood or bones ! You'd fplit to hear th' infipid coxcomb cry Ah, charming Nanny ! 'tis too much! I die!— i<^ Die and be d— n'd, fays one; but let me tell ye I'll pay the lofs if ever rapture kill ye,

'Tis eafy learnt the art to talk by rote : At Nando's 'twill but coft you half a groat; The Bedford fchool at three-pence is not dear. Sir; At White's — the ftan inftruB you for a teller. 21

But he, whom nature never meant to fhare One fpark of tafte, will never catch it there :— • Nor no where elfe ; howe'er the booby beau Grows great with Pope, and Horace, and Boi- leau. 25

Good native Tafte, though rude, is feldom wrong. Be it in mufrc, painting, or in fong. But this, as well as other faculties. Improves with age and ripens by degrees. I know, my dear, 'tis needlefs to deny 't, 30

You like Voiture, you think him wondrous bright : But feven years hence, your relilh more matur'd. What now delights will hardly be endur'd. The boy may live to tafte Racine's fine charms. Whom Lee's b^d orb or Rowe's dry rapture warms : But he, enfranchis'd from his tutor's care, 36

Who places Butler near Cervantes' chair ; Or with Erafmus can admit to vie Brown of Squab-hall of merry memory ;

G 2 Will

84 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Will die a Goth: and nod at * Woden's feaft, 4®

Th* eternal winter long, on + Gregory's breaft.

Long may he fwill, this patriarch of the dull. The drowfy Mum — But touch not Maro's fkull! His holy barbarous dotage fought to doom. Good heaven! th' immortal claffics to the tomb!— Thofe facred lights fhall bid new genius rife 4^

When all Rome's faints have rotted from the Ikies. Be thefe your guides, if at the ivy crown You aim ; each country's claffics, and your own. But chiefly with the ancients pafs your prime, 50

And drink Caftalia at the fountain's brim. The man to genuine Burgundy bred up. Soon ftarts the dafh of Methuen in his cup.

Thofe fovereign matters of the Mufes Ikill Are the true patterns of good writing (till. 5^

Their ore was rich and feven times purg'd of lead; Their art feem'd nature, 'twas fo finely hid. Though born with all the powers of writing well. What pains it coft they did not blufh to tell. Their eafe (my Lords!) ne'er loung"d for want of fire. Nor did their rage through affeftation tire, 61

* Alluding to the Gothic heaven, Woden's hall; where the happy are for ever employed in drinking beer, mum, and other comfortable liquors out of the flcuUs of thofe whom they had flain in battle.

+ Pope Gregory the Vlth, diftinguifhed by the name of St. Gregory; whofe pious zeal, in the caufe of barbarous ignorance and prieftly tyranny, exerted itfelf in demolilhing, to the Mtmoft of^his power, all the remains of heatlien genius.

Free

TASTE. ts

Free from all tawdry and impofing glare They trufted to their native grace of air. Rapt'rous and wild the trembling foul they feize l Or fly coy beauties fteal it by degrees; 65 >

The more you view them ftill the more they pleafe, J

Yet there are thoufands of fcholaftic merit Who worm their fenfe out but ne'er tafte their fpirit. Witnefs each pedant under Bentley bred; Each commentator that e'er commented. ^o

(You fcarce can feize a fpot of clafllc ground. With leagues of Dutch morafs fo floated round.) Witnefs — but. Sir, I hold a cautious pen, L,eft I fhould ijurong fome honourable men. They grow enthufiafts too — 'Tis true! 'tis pity ! 7^ Eut 'tis not every lunatic that's witty. Some have run Maro — and fome Milton — mad, Afldey once turn'd a folid barber's head; Hear all that's faid or printed if you can, Afhley has turn'd more folid heads than one. 80

Let fuch admire each great or fpecious name ; For right or wrong the joy to them's the fame, ♦• Right!" Yes a thoufand times. — Each fool has heard That Homer was a wonder of a bard. Defpife them civilly with all my heart — 85

Eut to convince them is a defperate part. Why fhould you tcize one for what fecret caufc One doats on Horace, or on Hudibras ? 'Tis cruel. Sir, 'tis needlefs, to endeavour To teach a fot of Tafte he knows no flavour, 90

G3 To

86 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

To difunitc I neither wifh nor hope A ftubborn blockhead from his fav'rite fop. Yes — fop I fay, were Maro's felf before 'em ; For Maro's felf grows dull as they pore o'er him.

But hear their raptures o'er fome fpecious rhyme 95 Dubb'd by the mufk'd and greafy mob fublime. For fpleen's dear fake hear how ,a coxcomb prates As clam'rous o'er his joys as fifty cats; *' Mufic has charms tofooth a /wvage hreaji, *' To /often rocks, and oaks ^' — and all the reft: lOO *^ rn)e heard''' — Blefs thefe long ears! — " Heav'ns

what a ftrain ! *' Good God! What thunders burft in this Campaign! *' Hark Waller warbles! Ah! how fweetly killing ! •* Then that inimitable Splendid Shilling ! ** Rowe breathes all Shakefpeare here! — That ode of

" Prior 105

*' Is Spencer quite! egad his very fire ! — ** As like" — Yes faith ! as gum-flowers to the rofe. Or as to Claret flat Minorca's dofe; As like as (if I am not giofsly wrong) Erie Robert's Mice to aught e'er Chaucer fung. no

Read boldly, and unprejudic'd perufe Each fav'rite modern, ev'n each ancient raufe. With all the comic fait and tragic rage The great ftupendous genius of our fl:age, Boaft of our ifland, pride of human-kind, 115

Had faults to which the boxes are not blind. His frailties are to ev'r)- golGp known : *

Yet Milton's pedantries not Ihock the town,

I Ne'ey

TASTE. 87

Ne'er be the dupe of Names, however high;

For feme outlive good parts, fome mifapply. 1 20

Each elegant Spectator you admire;

But muft you therefore fwear by Cato's fire?

Mafques for the court, and oft a clumfey jeft,

Difgrac'd the mufe that wrought the Alchemift.

*' But to the ancients." — Faith! I am not clear, 12^

For all the fmooth round type of Elzevir,

That every work which lafts in profe or fong.

Two thoufand years, defer\'es to laft fo long.

For not to mention fome eternal blades

Known only now in th' academic (hades, 1 30

(Thofe facred groves where raptur'd fpirits ftray.

And in word-hunting wafte the live-long day)

Ancients whom none but curious critics fcan.

Do, read * Meffala's praifes if you can.

Ah! who but feels the fweet contagious fmart 135

While foft Tibullus pours his tender heart ?

With him the Loves and Mufes melt in tears;

But not a word of fome hexameters.

" You, grow fo fqueamifh and fo dev'lifh dry,

*' You'll call Lucretius vapid next." Not I. 140

Some find him tedious, others think him lame:

But if he lags his fubjeft is to blame.

Rough weary roads through barren wilds he tried.

Yet ftill he marches with true Roman pride :

Sometimes a meteor, gorgeous, rapid, bright, 14J;

He ftrcams athwart the philofophic night.

* A poem of Tibullus's in hexameter verfe; as yawning and infipid as his elegies are tender and natural.

G 4 Find

a ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Find you in Horace no infipid Odes?—

He dar'd to tell us Homer fometimes nods ;

And but for fuch a critic's hardy Ikill

Homer might flumber unfufpedled ftill. lj;o

Taftelefs, implicit, indolent, and tame. At fecond-hand we chiefly praife or blame. Hence 'tis, for elfe one knows not why nor how. Some authors flourifb for a year or two : For many fome, more wond'rous ftill to tell; 155

Farquhar yet lingers on the brink of hell. Of folid merit others pine unknown; "J

At firft, though * Carlos fwimmingly went down, l Poor Belvidera fail'd to melt the town, J

Sunk in dead night the giant Milton lay 160

'Till Sommer's hand produc'd him to the day. But, thanks to heav'n and Addifon's good grace. Now ev'ry fop is charm'd with Chevy Chace.

Specious and fage, the fovereign of the flock Led to the dov/ns, or from the wave-worn rock 165 Relu(ftant hurl'd, the tame implicit train Or crop the downs, or headlong feek the main. As blindly we our folemn leaders follow. And good, and bad, and execrable fwallow.

Pray, on the firft throng'd evening of a play 170 That wears the \ fades hippocratica,

* DoH Carlos, a tragedy of Otway's, now long and juftly forgot- ten, went off with great applaufe ; while his Orphan, a fomewhat better performance, and what is yet more ftratige, his Venice Pre- ferved, according to the theatrical anecdotes of thofe times, met with a very cold reception.

+ The appearance of the face in the laft ftage of a confumption, as it is defiribed y Hippocrat?s,

Strong

■■]

TASTE. S9

Strong lines of death, figns dire of reprobation ; Have you not feen the angel of falvation Appear fublirae ; with wife and folemn rap To teach the doubtful rabble where to clap ? — 175 The rabble knows not where our dramas fhine; But where the cane goes pat — l^y G — float's fine ! Judge for yourfelf; nor wait with timid phlegm 'Till feme illuftrious pedant hum or hem. 179

The lords who ftarv'd old Ben were learn'dly fond Of Chaucer, whom with bungling toil they conn'd. Their fons, whofe ears bold Milton could notfeize. Would laugh o'er Ben like mad, and fnufFand fneeze. And fwear, and feem as tickled as you pleafe. Their fpawn, the pride of this fuhlimer age, 1 85;

Feel to the toes and horns grave Milton's rage. Though liv'd he now he might appeal with fcorn To Lords, Knights, 'Squires, and Doclors, yet unborn; Or juftly mad to Moloch's burning fane Devote the choiceft children of his brain. igo

Judge for yourfelf; and as you find report Of wit as freely as of beef or port. Zounds! fhall a pert or bluff important wight, Whofe brain is fancilefs, whofe blood is white; A mumbling ape of tafte; prefcribe us laws 19^;

To try the poets, for no better caufe Than that he boafts per arm. ten thoufand clear. Yelps in the Houfe, or barely fits a Peer? For Hiame! for Ihame! the liberal Britilh foul To ftoop to any ftale dilator's rule! zco

I may

90 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

I may be wrong, and often am no doubt. But right or wrong with friends with foes 'twill out. Thus 'tis perhaps my fault if I complain Of trite invention and a flimfy vein. Tame characters, uninterefting, jejune, 205

And paffions drily copied from * Le Brun. For I would rather never judge than wrong That friend of all men, generous Fenelon, But in the name of goodnefs, muft I be 210

The dupe of charms I never yet could fee ? And then to flatter where there's no reward- Better be any patron-hunting bard. Who half our Lords with filthy praife befmears. And fing an Anthem to all ministers: Tafte th' Attic fait in ev'ry Peer's poor rebus, 215 And crown each Gothic idol for a Phoebus.

* Firft painter to Lewis XIV. who, to fpeak in falhionable French Englifli, called hlmfelf \.-£.\ii% the Great. Our fove- reign lords the paflions, Love, Rage, Defpair, &c. were gracioufly pleafed to fit to him in their turns for their portraits : which he was generous enough to communicate to the public ; to the great im- provement, no doubt, of hiftory-painting. It was he who they fay poifoned Le Sueur; who, without half his advantages in many other refpe(fts, was fo unreafonable and provoking as to difplay a genius with which his own could ftand no comparifon. It was he and his Gothic difciples, who, with fly fcratches, defaced the moll niafterly of this Le Sueur's performances, as often as their barba- rous envy could fnugly reach them. Yet after all thefe atchieve- pients he died in his bed ! A cataftrophe which could not have happened to him in a country like this, where the fne arts are as #ealou(ly and judicioufl^ patronifed as they are well underftood.

Alas!

TASTE. 51

Alas ! fo far from free, fo far from brave. We dare not fhew the little Tafte we have. With us you'll fee ev'n vanity controul The mod refin'd fenfations of the foul. 220

Sad Otway's fcenes, great Shakefpear's we defy : " Lard, Madam ! 'tis fo unpolite to cry ! — *' For Ihame, my dear ! d'ye credit all this ftuiF?— ♦♦ I vow — well, this is innocent enough ?" At Athens long ago, the Ladies — (married) 225

Dreamt not they mifbehav'd though they mifcarried. When a wild poet with licentious rage Turn"d fifty furies loofe upon the flage.

They were fo tender and fo eafy mov'd, Heav'ns! how the Grecian ladies muft have lov'd! For all the fine fenfations ftill have dwelt, 23 1

Perhaps, where one was exquifitely felt. Thus he who heavenly Maro truly feels Stands fix'd on Raphael, and at Handel thrills. The groffer fenfes too, the tafte, thefmell, 2551

Are likely trueft where the fine prevail : I

Who doubts that Horace muft have cater'd well? J Friend, I'm a ftirewd obferver, and will guefs What books you doat on from your fav'rite mefs. Brown and L'Eftrange will furely charm whome'er The frothy pertnefs ftrikes of weak fmall-beer. Who fteeps the calf's fat loin in greafy fauce Will hardly loathe the praife that baftes an afs. Who riots on Scotcht Collops fcorns not any Infipid, fulfome, trafhy mifcellanyj 245

And

9t ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

And who devours whate'er the cook can difh up,' Will for a claffic confecrate each * bifliop. But I am fick of pen and ink ; and you Will find this letter long enough. Adieu !

* See Felton's Claflics,

IMITATIONS

[ 93 ]

IMITATION

O F

SHAKESPEARE AND SPENSER.

Ad'vertifement from the Fublijher.

^p H E following Imitation of Shakefpeare was one ^ of our Author's firft attempts in poetry, made when he was very young. It helped to amufe the fo- litude of a winter pafled in a wild romantic country ; and, what is rather particular, was juft finifhed when Mr. Thomfon's celebrated poem upon the fame fubjeft appeared. Mr. Thomfon, foon hearing of it, had the curiofity to procure a copy by the means of a common acquaintance. He fhevted-4t to his poetical friends, Mr. Mallet, Mr. Aaron Hill, and Dr. Young, who, it feems, did great honour to it; and the firft- men. tioned gentleman wrote to one of his friends at Edin- burgh, defiring the author's leave to publifli it ; a re- queft too flatttering to youthful vanity to be refifted. But Mr. Mallet altered his mind ; and this little piece has hitherto remained unpubliflied.

The other Imitations of Shakefpeare happen to have been faved out of the ruins of an unfiniftied tragedy on the {lory of Kerens and Philomela; attempted upon an

irregular

94- ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

irregular and extravagant plan, at an age much too early for fuch atchievements. However, they are here exhibited for the fake of fuch guefts as may like a little repaft of fc raps.

■^TOW Summer with her wanton court is gone ^^ To revel on the fouth fide of the world. And flaunt and frolic out the live -long day. While Winter rifing pale from northern feas Shakes from his hoary locks the drizzling rheum. ^ A blaft fo fhrewd makes the tall-bodied pines Unfinew'd bend, and heavy-paced bears Sends growling to their favage tenements.

Now blows thefurly north, and chills throughout The ftiffening regions ; while, by ftronger charms Than Circe e'er or fell Medea brew'd, lo

Each brook that wont to prattle to its banks Lies all beftlU'd and wedg'd betwixt its banks. Nor moves the wither'd reeds : and the rafli flood That from the mountains held its headftrong courfe. Buried in livid fheets of vaulting ice, 1 6

Seen through the Ihameful breaches, idly creeps To pay a fcanty tribute to the ocean. What wonder ? when the floating wildernefs That fcorns our miles, and calls Geography 20

A Ihallow pryer; from whofe unfteady mirrour The high-hung pole furveys his dancing locks; When this ftill-raving deep lies mute and dead. Nor heaves its fwelling bofom to the winds. The furges, baited by the fierce north-eaft 2j

Tofling

IMITATIONS. 9j

Tofling with fretful fpleen their angry heads

To roar and rufli together.

Even in the foam of all their madnefs ftruck

To monumental ice, (land all aftride

The rocks they wafhed fo late. Such execution, 30

So ftern, fo fudden, wrought the grifly afpeft

Of terrible Medufa, ere young Perfeus

With his keen fabre cropt her horrid head.

And laid her ferpents rowling on the duft ;

When wandering thro' the woods fhe frown'd to ftone

Their favage tenants : juft as the foaming lion ^6

Sprung furious on his prey, her fpeedier power

Outrun his hafte ; no time to langulfh in.

But fix'd in that fierce attitude he ftands

Like Rage in marble. — Now portly Argofies 40

Lie wedg'd 'twixt Neptune's ribs. The bridg'd abyfm

Has chang'd our fhips to horfes ; the fwift bark

Yields to the heavy waggon and the cart.

That now from ifle to ifle maintain the trade;

And where the furface-haunting Dolphin led 4^

Her fportive young, is now an area fit

For the wild fchool-boy's paftime.

Meantime the evening (kies, crufted with ice. Shifting from red to black their weighty fkirts. Hang mournful o'er the hills J and ftealing night 50 Rides the bleak puffing winds, that feem to fpit Their foam fparfe thro' the welkin, which is nothing If not beheld. Anon the burden 'd heaven Shakes from its ample fieve the boulted fnow; That fluttering down befprinkles the fad trees 55

In

9S ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

In mockery of leaves; piles up the hills

To monftrous altitude, and choaks to the lips

The deep impervious vales that yawn as low

As to the centre. Nature's vafty breaches.

While all the pride of men and mortal things 60

Lies whelm'd in heaven's white ruins. —

The fhivering clown digs his obftruded way Through the fnow-barricadoed cottage door ; And muffled in his home-fpun plaid encounters With livid cheeks and rheum-diftilling nofe 65

The morning's fharp and fcourging breath; to count His ftarving flock whofe number's all too flxort To make the goodly fum of yefter-night : Part deep ingurgitated, part yet ftruggling With their laft pantings melt themfelves a grave 70 In Winter's bofom ; which yields not to the touch Of the pale languid crefcet of this world. That now with lean and churlifh hufbandry Yields heartlefly the remnants of his prime ; And like moft fpendthrifts ftarves his latter days 75 For former ranknefs. He with bleary eye Blazons his own difgrace; the harnefs'd wafte Rebellious to his blunt defeated fhafts; And idly ftrikes the chalky mountains tops That rife to kifs the Welkin's ruddy lips; So

Where all the ra(h young bullies of the air Mount their quick llender penetrating wings. Whipping the froft-burnt villagers to the bones ; And growing with their motion mad and furious, 'Till fwoln to tempefts they out-rage the thunder; 85

Winnow

IMITATIONS. 97

Winnow the chafFy {now, and mock the Ikies Even with their own artillery retorted; Tear up and throw th' accumulated hills Into the vallies. And as rude hurricanes, Difcharg'd from the wind-fwoln cheeks of heaven, 90 Buoy up the fwilling fkirts of Araby's Inhofpi table wilds.

And roll the dufty defart through the Ikies, Choaking the liberal air, and fmothering Whole caravans at once; fuch havock fpreads 9^

This war of heaven and earth, fuch fudden ruin Vifits their houfelefs citizens, that fhrink In the falfe fhelter of the hills together. And hear the tempeft howling o'er their heads That by and by o'erwhelms them. The very birds, Thofe few that troop'd not with the chiming tribe Of amorous Summer quit their ruffian element j And with domeftic tamenefs hop and flutter Within the roofs of perfecuting man, (Grown hofpitable by like fenfe of fufFerance;) 105 Whither the hinds, the debt o' the day difcharg'd. From kiln or barn repairing, fhut the door On furly Winter; crowd the clean-fwept hearth And chearful fhining fire ; and doff the time. The whilft the maids their twirling fpindles ply, i iQ With mufty legends and ear-pathing tales j Of giants, and black necromantic bards. Of air-built caftles, feats of madcap knights. And every hollow fiftion of romance. And, as their rambling humour leads them, talk 115 Vol, LXXI. H Of

$3 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Of prodigies, and things of dreadful utterance j That fet them all agape, roufe up their hair. And make the ideot drops ftart from theit eyes ; Of church-yards belching flames at dead of night. Of walking ftatues, ghofts unaffable, 120

Haunting the dark wafte tower or airlefs dungeon ; Then of the elves that deftly trip the green. Drinking the fummer's moonlight from the flowers; And all the toys that phantafy pranks up T' amufe her fools withal. — Thus they lafh on 125 The fnail-pac'd Hyperborean nights, till heaven Hangs with a jufter poize: when the murk clouds RoU'd up in heavy wreathes low-bellying, feem To kifs the ground, and all the wafte of fnow Looks blue beneath 'em ; till plump'd with bloating . dropfy, 130

Beyond the bounds and ftretch of continence. They burft at once; down pours the hoarded rain, Wafhing the flipper)^ winter from the hills. And floating all the vallies. The fading fcene Melts like a loft enchantment or vain phantafm i^^ That can no more abufe. Nature refumes Her old fubftantial fhape ; while from the wafte Of undiftinguiftiing calamity, Foreft, and by their fides wide-flcirted plains, Houfes and trees arife; and waters flow, 140

That from their dark confinements burfting, fpurn Their brittle chains ; huge fheets of loofen'd 'ic& Float on their bofoms to the deep, and jarr And clatter as they pafs ; th' o'erjutting banks,

.As

IMITATIONS. 99

As long unpra£lis'd to fo deep a view, 143;

Seem to look dizzy on the moving pomp.

Now ev'ry petty brook that crawl'd along. Railing its pebbles, mocks the river's rage. Like the proud frog i' the fable. The huge Danube, While melting mountains rufh into its tide, 1^0

Rolls with fuch headftrong and unreined courfe. As it would choak the Euxines gulphy maw, Burfting his cryftal cerements. The breathing time Of peace expir'd, that hufli'd the deafning fcenes Of clamorous indignation, ruffian War ij^

Rebels, and Nature ftands at odds again : When the rous'd Furies of the fighting winds Torment the main ; that fvvells its angry fides. And churns the foam betwixt its flinty jaws ; While through the favage dungeon of the night 1 60 The horrid thunder growls. Th' ambitious waves Affault the ikies, and from the burfting clouds Drink the glib lightening ; as if the feas Would quench the ever-burning fires of heaven. Straight from their flipp'ry pomp they madly plunge And kifs the loweft pebbles. Wretched they 166

That 'midft fuch rude vexation of the deep Guide a frail veffel ! Better ice-bound ftiU, Than mock'd with liberty thus be refign'd To the rough fortune of the froward time ; 170

When Navigation all a-tiptoe ftands On fuch unftcady footing. Now they mount On the tall billow's top, and feem to jowl Againft the ftarsj whence (dreadful eminence!)

H 2 They

jco ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

They fee with fwimming eyes (enough to hurry round

In endlefs vertigo the dizzy brain) 176

A gulph that fwallows vifion, with wide mouth

Steep-yawning to receive them ; down they duck

To the rugged bottom of the main, and view

The adamantine gates of vaulted hell : j 80

Thence tofs'd to light again ; till borne adrift

Againfi: fome icy mountains bulging fides

They reel, and are no more. — Nor lefs by land

Ravage the winds, that in their wayward rage

Howl through the wide unhofpitable glens; 18^

That rock the ftable-planted towers, and ftiake

The hoary monuments of ancient time

Down to their flinty bafes ; that engage

As they would tear the mountains from their roots.

And brufli the high heavens with their woody heads;

Making the ftout oaks bow. — But I forget 191

That fprightly Ver trips on old Winter's heel :

Ceafe we thefe notes too tragic for the time.

Nor jar agamft great Nature's fymphony;

When even the bluftrous elements grow tuneful, 19^

Or lir^en to the concert. Hark! how loud

The cuclico wa'ier, the folitary wood!

Sof: figh tiie v/incs as o'er the greens they ftray.

And ir.unr.uring brooks within their channels play.

PROGNE'S

IMITATIONS.

PROGNE'S DREAM:

Darklj exprcjjive of Jome pafi Events that itiere foon tt be repealed to her,

— — — LAST night I dreamt, Whate'er it may forebode it moves me ftrangely. That I was rapt into the raving deep ; An old and reverend fire conducted me : He plung'd into the bofom of the main, c

And bade me not to fear but follow him. i followed ; v/ith impetuous fpeed we div'd. And heard the dafhing thunder o'er our heads. Many a flippery fathom down we funk. Beneath all plummets' found, and reach'd the bottom. When there, I aik'd my venerable guide 1 1

If he could tell me where my fifter was ; He told me that flie lay not far from thence Within the bofom of a flinty rock. Where Neptune kept her for his paramour i ^

Hid from the jealous Amphitrite's fight; And faid he could conduft me to the place. I beg'd he would. Through dreadful ways we pad, 'Twixt rocks that frightfully lower'd on either fide. Whence here and there the branching coral fprung; 20 O'er dead men's bones we walkd, o'er heaps of gold

and gems. Into a hideous kind of wildernefs. Where ftood a flern and prifon-looking rock,

H 3 Daub'd

loi ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Daub'd with a mofly verdure all around.

The mockery of paint. As we drew near 2^

Out fprung a hydra from a den below,

A fpeckld fury; fearfully it hifs'd.

And roll'd its fea-green eyes fo angrily

As it would kill with looking. My old guide

Againft its fharp head hurl'd a rugged ftone— 30

The curling monfter rais'd a brazen fhriek.

Wallow 'd and died in fitful agonies.

We gain'd the cave. Through woven adamant

I look'd, and faw my fifter all alone.

Employ'd flie feem'd in writing fomething fad, 3 j;

So fad fhe look'd : Her cheek was wond'rous wan.

Her mournful locks like weary fedges hung.

I call'd — fhe turning, ftarted when fhe faw me.

And threw her head afide as if afham'd ;

She wept, but would not fpeak — I call'd again; 40

Still fhe was mute. — Then madly I addrefi:.

With all the lion-finews of defpair.

To break the flinty ribs that held me outj

And with the ItruggUng wak'd,—

A STORM,

IMITATIONS. foj

A STORM;

Raifcd to account for the late Return of a Meffenger.

— — — THE fun went down in wrath; The Ikies foam'd brafs, and foon th' unchained winds Burft from the howling dungeon of the north: And rais'd fuch high delirium on the main. Such angry clamour j while fuch boiling waves 5

Flafh'd on the peevifh eye of'moqd^ night. It look'd as if the feas would fcald the heavens. Still louder chid the winds, th' enchafed furge Still anfwer'd louder ; and when the fickly morn Peep'd ruefully through the blotted thick-brovv'd eaft To view the ruinous havock of the dark, 1 1

The ftately towers of Athens feem'd to ftand On hollow foam tide-whiptj the Ihips that lay "Scorning the blaft within the marble arms Of the fea-chid Portumnus, danc'd like corks 15

Upon th' enraged deep, kicking each other ; And fome were dafh'd to fragments in this fray Againft the harbour's rocky cheft. The fea So roar'd, fo madly rag'd, fo proudly fwell'd. As it would thunder full into the ftreets, 20

And fteep the tall Cecropian battlements In foaming brine. The airy citadel, Perch'd like an eagle on a high-brow'd rock,

H 4. Shook

104 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Shook the fait water from its ftubborn fides

With eager quaking; the Cyclades appear'd 2j;

Like ducking Cormorants — Such a mutiny

Out-clamour'd all tradition, and gain'd belief

To ranting prodigies of heretofore.

Seven days it florm'd, &c.

AN

[ los 3

A N

I M 1 1^ A T I O N

O F

SPENSER.

Written at Mr. Thomson's dejire, to be inferted intt The Castle of Indolence.

I.

TT^ULL many a fiend did haunt this houfe of reft^ "*• And made of paffive wights an eafy prey. Here Lethargy with deadly fleep oppreft

Stretch'd on his back a mighty kibbard lay. Heaving his fides; and fnored night and day.

To ftir him from his traunce it was not eath. And his half-open'd eyne he fhut firaightway :

He led I ween the fofteft way to death. And taught withouten pain or ftrife to yield the breath,

II.

Of lim^s enormous, but withal unfound,

Soft-fwoln and pale, here lay the Hydropfiej

Unwieldy man, with belly monftrous round For ever fed with watery fupply;

For ftill he drank, and yet he ftill was dry.

And

io6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

And here a moping Myftery did fit. Mother of Spleen, in robes of various dye : . She call'd herfelf the Hypochondriack Fit, And frantick feem'd to fome, to others feem'd a wit.

III. A lady was fhe whimfical and proud.

Yet oft thro' fear her pride would crouchen low. She felt or fancied in her fluttering mood All the difeafes that the Spitals know. And fought all phyfick that the {hops beftow; •

And ftill new leaches and new drugs would try. 'Twas hard to hit her humour high or low.

For fometimes fhe would laugh and fometimes cry. Sometimes would waxen wroth; and all fhe knew not why.

IV.

Faft by her fide a liftlefs virgin pin'd.

With aching head and fqueamifli heart-burnings ; Pale, bloated, cold, fhe feem'd to hate mankind.

But lov'd in fecret all forbidden things. And here the Tertian fhook his chilling wings;

And here the Gout, half tyger half a fnake, Rag'd with an hundred teeth, an hundred flings;

Thefe and a thoufand furies more did fliake Thofe weary realms, and kept eafe-loving men awake.

A DAY:

[ 107 J

A DAY:

An Epiftle to John Wilkes, of Aylejhury, E/q.

T7SCAP'D from London now four moons, and •*--^ more,

I greet gay Wilkes from Fulda's wafted fhore. Where cloth'd with woods a hundred hills afcend. Where nature many a paradife has plan'd:

A laaid that, e'en amid contending arms, ^

Late fmird with culture, and luxuriant charms; But now the hoftile fcythe has bar'd her foil. And her fad peafants ftarve for all their toil.

What news to-day ? — I afk you not what rogue. What paltry imp of fortune's now in vogue ; lo

What forward blundering fool was laft preferr'd. By mere pretence diftinguifh'd from the herd ; With what new cheat the gaping town is fmit ; What crazy fcribbler reigns the prefent wit ; What fluff for winter the two booths have mixt; i^ What bouncing mimick grows a Rofcius next. Wave all fuch news : I've feen too much, my friend. To ftare at any wonders of that kind.

News, none have I : you know I never had j I never long'd the day's dull lye to fpread j 20

I left to goflips that fweet luxury. More in the fecrets of the great than I, To nurfes, midwives, all the llippery train. That fwallow all, and bring up all again ;

Or

}

too — 1

:r flew ?— I i! J

ic8 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Or did I e'er a brief event relate.

You found it foon at length in the Gazette.

Now for the weather — This is England ftill For aught I find, as good, and quite as ill. Even now the pond'rous rain perpetual falls. Drowns every camp, and crowds our hofpitals. This foaking deluge all unftrings my frame. Dilutes my fenfe, and fufFocates my flame — 'Tis that which makes thefe prefent lines fo tame. The parching eaft wind ftill purfues me too — Is there no climate where this fiend ne'er flew ?- By heaven, it flays Japan, perhaps Peru! It blafts all earth with its envenom'd breath. That fcatters difcord, rage, difeafes, death. 'Twas the firft plague that burft Pandora's cheft. And with a livid fmile fow'd all around the reft. 40

Heaven guard my friend from every plague that flies. Still grant him health, whence all the pleafures rife. But oft difeafes from flow caufes creep. And in this doftrine as (thank Heaven) I'm deep.

Mean time excufe me that I flily fnatch 45

The only theme in which I fhine your match.

You ftudy early: fome indulge at night. Their prudifli mufe fteals in by candle-light. Shy as th' Athenian Bird, fhe fliuns the day. And finds December genial more than May, 50

4 But

DAY. 109

But happier you who court the early fun. For morning vifits no debauch draw on ; Nor fo the fpirits, health, or fight impair. As thofe that pafs in the raw midnight air.

The talk of breakfaft o'er; that peevifh, pale, 55 That lounging, yawning, moft un genial meal ; Rufli out, before thofe fools rufh in to worry ye, Whofe bufmefs is to be idle in a hurry. Who kill your time as frankly as their own. And feel no civil hints e'er to be gone. 60

Thefe fiies all fairly flung, whene'er the houfe. Your country's bufmefs, or your friend's, allows, Rufli out, enjoy the fields and the frefn air ; Ride, walk, or drive, the weather foul or fair. Yet in the torrid months I would reverfe 65'

This method, leave behind both profe and verfe; With the grey dawn the hills and foreft roam. And wait the fultry noon embower'd at home. While every rural found improves the breeze. The railing ftream, the bufy rooks, and murmur of the bees. 70

You'll hardly choofe thefe chearful jaunts alone — Except when forae deep fcheme is carrying on. With you at Chelfea oft may I behold The hopeful bud of fenfe her bloom unfold. With you I'd v/alk to ***** * To rich, infipid Hackney, if you will ; With you no matter where, while we're together, I fcorn no fpot on earth, and curfe no weather :

When

no. ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

When dinner comes, amid the various feaft. That crowns your genial board, where every gueft, 80 Or grave, or gay, is happy, and at home. And none e'er figh'd for the mind's elbow-room ; I warn you ftill to make your chief repaft On one plain difh, and trifle with the reft.

Beef, in a fever, if your ftomach crave it, 85

Ox-cheek, or mawkifh cod, be fure you have it.

For ftill the conftitution, even the cafe,

Direfts the ftomach; this informs the tafte;

And what the tafte in her capricious fits

Coyly, or even indifferently admits, 90

The peevifti ftomach, or difdains to toil.

Or indolently works to vapid chyle.

This inftindl of the tafte fo feldom errs.

That if you love, yet fmart for cucumbers.

Or plumbs of bad repute, you'll likely find "t

'Twas for you feparated what nature join'd, y

The fpicey kernel here, and there the rind. J

*TIs ftrange how blindly we from Nature ftray ! The only creatures we that mifs their way! To err is human, Man's prerogative. Who's too much fenfe by Nature's laws to live : Wifer than Nature he muft thwart her plan. And ever will be fpoiling, where he can,

'Tis

DAY. II,

'Tis well he cannot ocean change to cream.

Nor earth to a gilded cake; not e'en could tame 105

Niagaras fteep abyfs to crawl down flairs *,

Or drefs in rofes the dire Cordelliers\ :

But what he can he does ; well can he trim

A charming fpot into a childifh whim ;

Can every generous gift of Nature fpoil, 1 10

And rates their merits by his coft and toil.

Whate'er the land, whate'er the fea's produce.

Of perfeft texture, and exalted juice.

He pampers, or to fulfome fat, or drains.

Refines and bleaches, till no tafle remains. 11 j

Enough to fatten fools, or drive the dray. But plagues and death to thofe of finer clay.

No corner elfe, "tis not to be denied. Of all our ifle fo rankly is fupplied With grofs produftions, and adulterate fare, 1 20

As one renown'd abode, whofe name I fpare. They cram all poultry, that the hungry fox Would loath to touch them; e'en their boafted ox Sometimes is glutted fo with unduous fpoil. That what feems beef is rather rape-feed oil. 125

D'ye know what brawn is? — O th' unhappy beaft! He {lands eternal, and is doom'd to feaft,

* Vide Chatfworth, 1753.

A Les Cordalleira's des Andee are a chain of hilis, which run through South-America.

Till

Hi ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Till— but the nauceous procefs I forbear — •

Only, beware of brawn — befure, beware !

Yet brawn has tafte— it has: their veal has none, 130

Save what the butcher's breath infpires alone ;

Juft heaven one day may fend them hail for v.heat.

Who fpoil all veal becaufe it fhould be white.

'Tis hard to fay of what compounded pafte

Their bread is wrought, for it betrays no tafte, 13^

Whether 'tis flour and chalk, or chalk and flour

Shell'd and refin'd, till it has tafte no more ;

But if the lump be white, and white enough.

No matter how infipid, dry, or tough.

In fait itfelf the fapid favour fails, 140

Burnt alum for the love of white prevails:

While taftelefs cole-feed we for muftard fwallow,

'Tis void of zeft indeed — but ftill 'tis yellow.

Parfnip, or parfley root, the rogues will foon

Scrape for horfe-radifh, and 'twill pafs unknown, 145

For by the colour, not the tafte, we prove all.

As hens will fit on chalk, if 'tis but oval.

I muft with caution the cook's reign invade. Hot as the fire, and hafty from his trade, .

A cook of genius, bid him roaft a hare, 150

By a]] that's hot and horjible would fwear.

Parch

DAY* nj

Parch native drynefs! zounds, that's not the thing—

But ftew him, and he might half dine a king.

His gen'rous broth I fhould almoft prefer

To Turtle Soup, though Turtle travels far, i^^

You think me nice perhaps : yet I could dine On roafted rabbit; or fat turky and chine j Or fulfome haflet ; or moft drily cram My throat with taftelefs fillet and wet ham : But let me ne'er of mutton-faddle eat, 1 6$

That folid phantom, that moft fpecious cheat; Yet loin is paflable, he was no fool Who faid the half is better than the whole :

But I have cook'd and carv'd enough and more. We come to drinking next. 'TUl dinner's o'er, i6^ I would all claret, even Champaign forbear. Give me frefh water — ^blefs me with fmall-beer. But ftill whate'er you drink with cautious lip Approach, furvey, and e'er you Avallow, fip ; For often, O defend all honeft throats! The reeling wafp on the drench'd borage floats I've known a dame, fage elfe as a divine. For brandy whip oS Ipecacuan wine; And I'm as fure amid your carelefs glee. You'll fwallow Pert one time for Cote-mie, f]^

Vol. LXXI, I But

70

1. J

ji* ARMSTRONG'S POEMS,

But you aware of that Lethean flood.

Will fcarce repeat the dofe— forbid you fhould!

'Tis fuch a deadly foe to all that's bright,

'Twould foon encumber e'en your fancy's flight :

And if 'tis true what fome wife preacher fays, 1 8o

That we our gen'rous anceftors difgrace.

The fault from this pernicious fountain flows.

Hence half our follies, half our crimes and woes;

And ere our maudlin genius mounts again,

'Twill caufe a fea of claret andchampain l(

Of this retarding glue to rinfe the nation's brain.

The mud-fed carp refines amid the fprings.

And time and Burgundy might do great things ;

But health and pleafure we for trade defpife.

For Portugal's grudg'd gold our genius dies. 190

O haplefs race! O land to be bewail'd!

With murders, treafons, horrid deaths appal'd;

Where dark-red fkles with livid thunders frown.

While earth convulfive fliakes her cities down ;

Where Hell in Heaven's name holds her impious court.

And the grape bleeds out that black poifon, port^ 196

Sad poifon to themfelves, to us ftill worfe,

Brew'd and rebrew"d, a doubled, trebled curfe.

Tofs'd in the crowd of various rules I find. Still fome material bufinefs left behind : *200

The fig, the goofeberr}^, beyond all grapes. Mellower to eat, as rich to drink perhaps. But pleafures of this kind are beft enjoy'd. Beneath the tree, or by the fountain fide.

Ere

D A V. tis

Ere the quick foul, and dewy bloom exhale, 205

And vainly melt into the thanklcfs gale.

Who from the full meal yield to natural reft,

A fhort repofej 'tis ftrange how foon you'll find

A fecond morn rife chearful on your mind :

Befides it foftly, kindly, fooths away 210

The faddeft hour to fome that damps the day.

But if you're coy to fleep, before you fpread

Some eafy-trotting poet's lines — you're dead

At once : even thefe may haften your repofe.

Now rapid verfe, now halting nearer profe: lij

There fmooth, here rough, what I fuppofe you'd chufe.

As men of tafte hate famenefs in the mufe :

Yes, I'd adjourn all drinking till 'tis late.

And then indulge, but at a moderate rate.

By heaven not * * * with all his genial wit, 22Q'

Should ever tempt me after twelve to fit—*

You laugh — at noon you fay ; I mean at night.

I long to read your name once more again. But while at Caje/, all fuch longing's vain. Yet CaJ/e/ elfe no fad retreat I find. While good and amiable * Gayot 's my friend. Generous and plain, the friend of human-kind;

- * Monf. de Gayot, Fils, confeiller d'eftat, et int&ndaat de I'ar- mce Franjoile en AUsmagne.

I 2 Who

] 1

ii6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

Who fcoms the little-minded 's partial view ;

One you would love, one that would relifh you*

With him fometimes I fup, and often dine.

And find his prefence cordial more than wine.

There lively, genial, friendly, Goy and I,

Touch glaffes oft to one, whofe company

Would — but what's this ?— Farewell— within two

hours We march for //<jjf/^r-- ever, ever yours.

CONTENTS

i^

[ "7 1

CONTENTS

OF

ARMSTRONG'S POEMS.

THE Art of prefenlng Health, In Four Books. - - Page t

Of Benevolence : An Epiftle, - 96

Of Taste : An Epiftle to a young Critic. 82

Imitations of Shakespear and Spenser, 93

Pay : An Epiftle, • * 107

I5

THE

POEMS

O F

JOHN LANGHORNE,

'•' Et vos, O Lauri, carpam; et te, proxima Myrte! ' Sic pofitje, quoniam fuaves mifcetis odores," VirGo

I4

[ ^21 1

TO THE HONOURABLE

CHARLES YORKE.

AMufe that lov'd in Nature's walks to ftray. And gather'd many a wild flower in her way. To Nature's friend her genuine gifts would bring. The light amufements of Life's vacant fpring ; Nor fhalt thou, Yorke, her humble offering blame. If pure her incenfe, and unmixt her flame. She pours no flattery into Folly's car. No (hamelcfs hireling of a fhamelefs Peer, The friends of Pope indulge her native lays. And Gloucester joins with Lyttelton to praife. Each judge of art her ftrain, though artlefs loves; And Shenstone fmil'd, and polifh'd Hurd approves. O may fuch fpirits long protect my page, Surviving lights of Wit's departed age! Long may I in their kind opinion live I AH meaner praife, all envy I forgive

Yet fairly be my future laurels won! Nor let me bear a bribe to Hardwicke"s fon! Should his free fuffrage own the favour'd ftrain. Though vain the toil, the glory were not vain

SONNET

r "2 ]

SONNET

TO MR. LANGHORNE.

BY JOHN SCOTT, esq^;

LANGHORNE, unknown to me (fequefter'd fwain!) Save by the Mus e's foul-enchanting lay. To kindred fpirits never fung in vain. Accept the Tribute of this light eflay ; Due for thy {weet fongs that amus'd my day I Where fancy held her vifionary reign. Or Scotland's honours claim'd the paftoral ftrain. Or Music cameo'er Handel tears to pay: For all thy Irvvan's flow'ry banks difplay, Yhy Perfian Lover and his Indian Fair; All Theodosius' mournful lines convey. Where Pride and Av'rice part a matchlefs pair ; Receive juft praife and wreaths that ne'er decay. By Fame and Virtue twin'd for thee to wear,

Amw ELL, near ^^rd-, 1 6 March, 1766,

PROEMIUM

\

C 123 3

PROEMIUM, WRITTEN IN 1766.

T N Eden's * vale, where early fancy wrought

-■■ Her wild embroidery on the ground of thought.

Where Pembroke's \ grottos, ftrew'd with Sidney's bays,

Recall'd the dreams of vifionary days.

Thus the fond Mufe, that footh'd my vacant youth.

Prophetic fung, and what fhe fung was truth.

" Boy, break thy lyre, and caft thy reed away; Vain are the honours of the fruitlefs bay. The' with each charm thy polifh'd lay fhould pleafe^ Glow into ftrength, yet foften into eafej Should Attic fancy brighten every line. And all Aonias harmony be thine; Say would thy cares a grateful age repay ? Fame wreathe thy brows, or Fortune gild thy way ? Ev'n her own fools, if Fortune fmile, fliall blame ; And Envy lurks beneath the flowers of Fame.

Yet, if refolv'd, fecure of future praife. To tune fweet fongs, and live melodious days. Let not the hand, that decks my holy Ihrine, ■Round Folly's head the blafted laurel twine. Juft to thyfelf, difhoneft grandeur fcorn ; Nor gild the buft of meannefs nobly born. Let truth, let freedom ftill thy lays approve ! Refpeft my precepts, and retain my love !

* The river Eden, ia Weftmorland.

+ TheCountefs of Pembroke, to whom Sir Philip Sydney dedi- cated his Arcadia, refided at Appleby, a fmall but beautiful town in Weftmorland fituated upon the tden.

HYMN

124. LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

HYMN TO HOPE, 1761,

EvSov siAijAn He 6,

I.

QUN of the foul! whofe chearful ray ^ Darts o'er this gloom of life a frnile ; Sweet Hop E, yet further gild my way.

Yet light my weary fteps awhile. Till thy fair lamp diffolve in endlefs day,

II. O come with fuch an eye and mien. As when by amorous Ihepherd feen ; While in the violet-breathing vale He meditates his evening tale ! Nor leave behind thy fairy train. Repose, Belief, and Fancy vain; That towering on her wing fublime, Outftrips the lazy flight of time, Riots on diftant days with thee. And opens all futurity.

III. O come! and to my penfive eye Thy far-forefeeing tube apply, Whofe kind deception deals us o'er The gloomy wafte that lies before;

StiU

H Y M N T O H O P E. laj

Still opening to the diftant fight The funfhine of the mountain's height j Where fcenes of fairer afpeft rife, Elyfian groves, and azure fkies, IV. Nor, gentle Hope, forget to bring The Family of Youth and Spring j The Hours that glide in fprightly round. The Mountain-Nymphs with wild thyme crown 'dj Delight that dwells with raptur'd eye

On ftream, or flower, or field or flcy :

And foremoft in thy train advance The 'Loves and Joys in jovial dance |

Nor laft be Expectation feen.

That wears a wreath of ever-green. V.

Attended thus by B e l e a u ' s ftreams.

Oft haft thou footh'd my waking dreams.

When, prone beneath an ofier fhade.

At large my vacant limbs were laidj

To thee and Fancy all refign'd.

What vifions wander'd o'er my mind!

Illufions dear, adieu ! no more

Shall I your fairy haunts explore ;

For Hope withholds her golden ray,"

And Fancy's colours faint away.

To Eden's (hores, to Enon's groves,

Refounding once with D e l i A 's loves.

Adieu ! that name (hall found no more

O'er Enon's groves or Eden's fliore:

I For

us LANGHORNE*S POEMS.

For Hope withholds her golden ray. And Fancy's colours faint away.

VI. Life's ocean flept, — the liquid gale Gently mov'd the waving fail. Fallacious Hope ! with flattering eye You fmil'd to fee the ftreamers fly. The Thunder burfts, the mad wind raves, From Slumber wake the 'frighted waves: You faw me, fled me thus diftreft. And tore your anchor from my breaft.

VII. Yet come, fair fugitive, again ! I lo^■e thee ftill, though falfe and vain. Forgive me, gentle Hope, and tell Where, far from me, you deign to dwell. To foothe Ambition's wild defiresj To feed the lover's eager fires ; Tofwell the mifer's mouldy ftore; To gild the dreaming chymift's ore; Are thefe thy cares ? or more humane ? To loofe the war-worn captive's chain. And bring before his languid fight The charms of liberty and light; The tears of drooping Grief to dry; And hold thy glafs to Sorrow's eye?

VIII. Or do'ft thou more delight to dwell With Silence in the hernait's cell?

To

HYMN TO HOPE. ,a7

To teach Devotion's flame to rife. And wing her vefpers to the (kies ; To urge, with ftill returning care. The holy violence of prayer; In rapt'rous vifions to difplay The realms of everlafting day. And fnatch from Time the golden key. That opens all Eternity?

IX. Perchance, on fome unpeopled ftrand, Whofe rocks the raging tide withftand , Thy foothing fmile, in defarts drear, A lonely mariner may chear, \^ ho bravely holds his feeble breath, Attack'd by Famine, Pain and Death, With thee, he bears each tedious day Along the dreary beach to ftray ; Whence their wide way his toil'd eyes ftraia O'er the blue bofom of the main ; And meet, where diftant furges rave, A white fail in each foaming wave.

X. Doom'd from each native joy to part. Each dear connexion of the heart, ,

You the poor exile's fleps attend. The only undeferting friend. You wing the flow-declining year; You dry the folitary tear ; And oft, with pious guile, reftore Thofc fcenes he muft behold no more.

XI. O moft

z»8 LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

XT.

O moft ador'd of earth or fkies ! To thee ten thoufand temples rife ; By age retain'd, by youth careft. The fame dear idol of the breaft. Depriv'd of thee, the wretch were poor. That rolls in heaps of Lydian ore : With thee the fimple hind is gay, Whofe toil fupports the paffing day.

XII. The rofe-lip'd Loves that, round their queen^ Dance o'er Cyth era's fmiling green. Thy aid implore, thy power difplay In many a fweetly-warbled lay. For ever in thy facred fhrine. Their unextinguifh'd torches (hinej Idalian flowers their fweets difFufe, And myrtles flied their balmy dews. Ah; ftill propitious, may'ft thou deign To foothe an anxious lover's pain ! By thee deferted, well I know. His heart would feel no common woe. His gentle prayer propitious hear. And flop the frequent-falling tear.

XIII. For me, fair Hope, if once again Perchance, to fmile on me you deign. Be fuch your fweetly-rural air. And fuch a graceful vifage wear.

H Y M N T O H O P E. 1*9

As when, with Truth and young Desire, You wak'd the lord oFHagley's lyrej And painted to her Poet's mind. The charms of Lucy, fair and kind. XIV.

But ah! too early loft! then go.

Vain Hope, thou harbinger of woe.

Ah! no; that thought diftrads my heart:

Indulge me, Hope, we muft not part Direft the future as you pleafe; But give me, give me prefent eafe.

XV. Sun of the foul! whofe chearful ray

Darts o'er this gloom of life a fmile; Sweet Hop e, yet further gild my way.

Yet light my weary fteps awhile. Till thy fair lamp diflblve in endlefs day.

VoL.LXXI. K GENIUS

t 132 ]

GENIUS AND VALOUR A PASTORAL POEM.

WRITTEN IN HONOUR OF A SISTER KINGDOM, 1763.

Amyntor, Chorus of Shepherds. "«T THERE Tweed's fair plains in liberal beauty

And Flora laughs beneath a lucid fky ;

Long winding vales where cryftal waters lave.

Where blythe birds warble, and where green woods

wave, A bright-hair'd fliepherd, in young beauty's bloom, Tun'd his fweet pipe behind the yellow broom.

Free to the gale his waving ringlets lay. And his blue eyes difFus'd an azure day. Light o'er his limbs a carelefs robe he flung ; Health rais'd his heart, and ftrength his firm nerves ftrung.

His native plains poetic charms infpir'd. Wild fcenes, where ancient Faricy oft retir'd ! Oft led her faeries to the Shepherd's lay. By Yarrow's banks, or groves of End erma y.

Nor only his thofe images that rife Fair to the glance of Fancy's plaftic eyes ; His Country's love his patriot foul poflefs'd. His Country's honour fir'd his filial breaft. Her lofty genius, piercing, bright, and bold. Her valour witnefs'd by the world of old,

Witnefs-d,

GENIUS AND VALOUR. 133

Witnefs'd once more by recent heaps of flain On Canada's wild hills, and Minden's plain.

To founds fublimer wak"d his paftoral reed

Peace, Mountain- Echoes! while the ftrains proceed. Amyntor.

No more of Tiviot, nor the flowery braes. Where the blythe Shepherd tunes his lightfome lays ; No more of Leader's faery-haunted fhore. Of ATHOL'sLawns,andGLEDswooD-Banksnomore, Unheeded fmile my Country's native charms. Loft in the glory of her arts and arms. Thefe, Shepherds, thefe demand fublimer ftrains ThanCL VD e's clear fountains, or than Athol's plains. Chorus of Shepherds.

Shepherd, to thee fublimer lays belong. The force divine of Soul-commanding fong. Thefe humble Reeds have little learnt to play. Save the light airs that chear the paftoral day. Of the clear fountain, and the fruitful plain We fing, as Fa7icy guides the fimple ftrain. If then thy Country's facred fame demand The high-ton"d mufic of a happier hand Shepherd, to thee fublimer lays belong. The force divine of Soul-commanding fong. Amyntor.

In fpite of Faction's blind, unmanner'd rage. Of various fortune and deftrudlive age. Fair Scotland's honours yet unchang'd are feen. Her palms ftill blooming, and her laurels green,

K 2 Freed

334 LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Freed from the confines of her Gothic grave. When her firft light reviving Science gave. Alike o'er Britain fhone the liberal ray. From* Enswith's mountains to the banks of Tat.

For Jam Es + the Mufes tun'd their fportive lays. And bound the Monarch's browvvithCHAucEP.'sbays. Arch Humour fmil'd to hear his mimic ftrain. And plaufive Laughter thrill'd through every vein.

When Tafte and Genius form the Royal Mind, The favour'd arts a happier era find. By James belov'd the Mufes tun'd their lyres To nobler ftrains, and breath'd diviner fires. But the dark mantle of involving Time Has veil'd their beauties, and obfcur'd their rhyme.

Yet ftill fome pleafing monuments remain. Some marks of genius in each later reign. In nervous ftrains Dunbar's bold mufic flows. And Time yet fpares the Thijile and the Rofe X-

O, while his courfe the hoary warrior fteers Through the long range of life-diffolving years. Through all the evils of each changeful age. Hate, Envy, Faftion, Jealoufy, and Rage, Ne'er may his Scythe thefe facred plants divide, Thefe plants by Heaven in native union tied !

* A chain of mountains near Folkftone in Kent.

-| James the Firft, King of Scotland, Author of the famous old fong, entitled Chrijl's Kirk on the Green.

\ A poem fo called, written in honour of Margaret, daughter of Henry VII. on her marriage to James IV. King of Scots. By Mr. William Dunbar,

Still

GENIUS AND VALOUR. 135

Still may the flower its focial fweets difclofe. The hardy Thiftle ftill defend the Rofe !

Hail happy days! appeas'd by Margaret's charms. When rival Valour Iheath'd his fatal arms. When kindred realms unnatural war fuppreft. Nor aim'd their arrows at a fifter's breaft.

Kind to the Mufe is Qui et's genial day ; Her olive loves the foliage of the bay.

With bold Dunbar arofe a numerous choir. Of rival bards that ftrung the Doriaii lyre. In gentle Henry son's* unlabour'd ftrain Sweet Arethusa's fliepherd breath'd again : Kor (hall your tuneful vifions be forgot. Sage Bellemtyne +, and fancy-painting Scott :|;. But, O my Country ! how fhall Memory trace Thy bleeding anguifh, and thy dire difgrace ? Weep o'er the ruins of thy blafted bays. Thy glories loft in either Charles's days? When through thy fields deftrudive Rapine fpread. Nor fparing infant's tears, nor hoary head. In thofe dread days the unprotefted fwain Mourn 'd on the mountains o'er his wafted plain. Nor longer vocal with the Shepherd's lay Were Yarrow's banks, or groves of Endermay.

* Mr. Robert Henryfon, an ingenious paftoral poet.

+ Mr. John Bellentyne, Archdean of Murray, Author of a beautiful allegorical poem, entitled, Virtue and Vice.

■\ Mr. Archibald Scott, in the year 1524, tranflated the Vifion, a poem, faid to have been written in the year 1360. He was Author of the Eagle and the Redbreaft alfo, and fevtral other pieces writtea with uncommon elegance for their day.

K 3 Chorus

336 LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Chorus of Shepherds.

Amyntor, ceafe ! the painful fcene forbear Nor the fond breaft of filial duty tear. Yet in our eyes our fathers forrows flow. Yet in our bofoms lives their lafting woe. At eve returning from their fcanty fold. When the long fufferings of their fires they told. Oft have we figh'd the piteous tale to hear. And infant wonder dropt the mimic tear. Amyntor.

Shepherds, no longer need your forrows flow. Nor pious duty cherifh endlefs woe. Yet fliould Rcmemhrmice , led by filial Love, Through the dark vale of old Affliftions rove. The mournful fliades of forrows paft explore. And think of miferies that are no more ; Let thofe fad fcenes that alk the duteous tear. The kind return of happier days endear.

Hail, Anna, hail! O may each mufe divine With wreaths eternal grace thy holy flirine ! Grav'd on thy tomb this facred verfe remain. This verfe more fweet than Conqueft's founding flrain, ** She bade the rage of hoftile nations ceafe, *' The glorious arbitrefs of Europe's peace. She, through whofe bofom roUd the vital tide Of Britain's Monarchs in one ftream allied, Clos'd the long jealoufies of different fway. And faw united Siikr-Realms obey.

Aufpicious days ! when Tyranny no more Rais'd his red arm, nor drenchd his darts in gore.

When,

GENIUS AND VALOUR. 137

Wherij long an Exile from his native plain. Safe to his fold returned the weary fvvain. Return'd, and, many a painful fummer paft. Beheld the green bench by his door at laft.

Aufpicious days ! when Scots, no more oppreft. On their free mountains bar'd the-fearlefs breaft. With pleafure faw their flocks unbounded feed. And tun'd to ftrains of ancient joy the reed.

Then, Shepherds, did your wondering fires behold A form divine, whofe vefture flam'd with gold ; His radiant eyes a ftarry luftre fhed. And folar glories beam'd around his head. Like that ftrange power by fabling poets feign 'd. From Eafl: to Weft his mighty arms he ftrain'd. A rooted olive in one hand he bore. In one a globe, infcrib'd with fea and fhore. From Thames's banks to Tweed, to Tay he came. Wealth in his rear, and Commerce was his name.

Glad Industry the glorious ftranger hails. Rears the tall mafts, and fpreads the fwelling fails 5 Regions remote with aftive hope explores. Wild Zembla's hills, and Afric's burning (hores.

But chief, Columbus, of thy various coaft. Child o{ the Union, Commerce bears his boaft. To feek thy new-found worlds, the vent'rous fwain. His lafs forfaking, left the lowland plain. Afide his crook, his idle pipe he threw. And bade to Mufic, and to Love adieu.

Hence, Glasgow fair, thy wealth-difFufing hand. Thy groves of vefTels, and thy crowded ftrand.

K 4 Hence,

13? LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Hence, round his folds the moorland Shepherd fpies New focial towns, and happy hamlets rife.

But me not fplendor, nor the hopes of gain Should ever tempt to quit the peaceful plain. Shall I, pofTeft of all that life requires. With tutor'd hopes, and limited defires. Change thefe fweet fields, thefe native fcenes of eafe. For climes uncertain, and uncertain feas ?

Nor yet, fair Commerce, do I thee difdain. Though Guilt and Death and Riot fwell thy train, Chear'd by the influence of thy gladdening ray. The liberal arts fublimer works effay. Genius for thee relumes his facrcd fires. And Science nearer to her heaven afpires.

The fanguine eye of Tyranny long clos'd, Ey Commerce fofter'd, and in Peace repos'd. No more her miferles when my Country mourn 'd. With brighter flames her glowing genius burn'd. Soon wandering fearlefs many a mufe was feen O'er the dun mountain, and the wild wood green. Soon, to the warblings of the paftoral reed. Started fweet Echo from the Ihores of Tweed.

O favoured ftream ! where thy fair current flows. The child of nature, gentle Thomson rofe. Young as he wander'd on thy flowery fide. With Ample joy to fee thy bright waves glide. Thither, in all their native charms array'd. From climes remote the fifl:er Seasons ftray'd.

Long each in beauty boalled to excel, (For jealoufies in fiUcr-bofoms dwell)

4 But

GENIUS AND VALOUR. 139

But now, delighted with the liberal boy. Like Heaven's fair rivals in the groves of Troy, Yield to an humble fwain their high debate, And from his voice the palm of beauty wait.

Her naked charms, like Venus, to difclofe. Spring from her bofom threw the fhadowing rofe ; Bar'd the pure fnow that feeds the lover's fire. The breaft that thrills with exquifite defire; Affum'd the tender fmile, the melting eye. The breath fa'vo?iian, and the yielding figh. One beauteous hand a wilding's bloffom grac'd. And one fell carelefs o'er her zonelefs waift.

Majeftic Summer, in gay pride adorn'd. Her rival filler's fimple beauty fcorn'd. With purple wreaths her lofty brows were bound. With glowing flowers her rifing bofom crown'd. In her gay zone, by artful Fancy fram'd. The bright Rofe blufli'd, the full Carnation flam'd. Her cheeks the glow of fplendid clouds difplay. And her eyes flafli infufferable day.

With milder air the gentle Autumn came. But feem'd to languifh at her Sifter's flame. Yet, confcious of her boundlefs wealth, (he bore On high the emblems of her golden ftore. Yet could (he boaft the plenty-pouring hand, T he liberal fmile, benevolent and bland. Nor might flie fear in beauty to excell. From whofe fair head fuch golden treffes fell ; Nor might fhe envy Summer's flowery zone, la whofe fweet eye the ftar of evening (hone,

Next,

HO LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Next, the pale Power, that blots the golden iky, Wreath'd her grim brows, and roU'd her ftormy eye ; " Behold," fhe cried, with voice that fliook the ground, (The Bard, the Sifters trembled at the found) ** Ye weak admirers of a grape, or rofe, " Behold my wild magnificence of fnows ! " See my keen Froft her glafly bofom bare ! " Mock the faint fun, and bind the fluid air! " Nature to you may lend a painted hour, '♦ With you may fport, when I fufpend ray power. " But you and Nature, who that power obey, " Shall own my beauty, or fhall dread my fway."

She fpoke : the Bard, whofe gentle heart ne'er gave One pain or trouble that he knew to fave. No favour'd nymph extols with partial lays. But gives to each her pifture for her praife.

Mute lies his lyre in death's unchearful gloom. And Truth and Genius weep at Thomson's tomb.

Yet ftill the mufe's living founds pervade Her ancient fcenes of CaLdoniaji (hade. Still nature liftens to the tuneful lay. On Kilda's mountains and in En derm ay.

Th' ethereal brilliance of poetic fire. The mighty hand that fmites the founding lyre. Strains that on fancy's ftrongeft pinion rife. Conceptions vaft, and thoughts that grafp the fldcs, To the rapt youth that mus'd on* Shake spear's grave, ToOgilvie the mufe of Pindar gave.

* See Mr. Ogilvie's Ode to the Genius of Shakefpear.

*TlME,

GENIUS AND VALOUR. h»

* Time, as he fung, a moment ceas'd to fly. And lazy + Sleep unfolded half his eye.

O wake, fweet Bard, the Theban lyre again ; With ancient valour fwell the founding ftrain. i lail the high trophies by thy country won, 7'he wreaths that flourifh for each valiant fon.

While Hardyknute frowns red with Norway's gore, 'aint her pale matrons weeping on the fhore. ' lark ! the green Clarion pouring floods of breath

oluminoufly loud ; high fcorn of death ] ]ach gallant fpirit elates ; fee Rothfay's thane With arm of mountain oak his firm bow ftrain ! Hark! the ftring twangs — the v^hizzing arrow flies ; The fierce Norse falls — indignant falls — and dies. O'er the dear urn, where glorious % Wallace fleeps. True Valour bleeds, and patriot Virtue weeps. *-on of the Lyre, what high ennobling fl:rain, ■• hat meed from thee fiiall generous Wallace gain ? who greatly fcorning an Ufurper's pride, £ar'd his brave breaft for liberty, and died.

Boaft, Scotland, boaft thy fons of mighty name. Thine ancient chiefs of high heroic faine. Souls that to death their Country's foes oppos'd. And life in freedom, glorious freedom clos'd.

* Ode to Time. Ibid. + Ode to Sleep. Ibid.

J William Wallace, who after bravely defending his country -gainft the arms of Edward I. was executed as a Rebel, though he jj taken no oath of allegiance.

Where,

14?. LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Where, yet bevvail'd, Argyle's * warm allies lie. Let Mufic breathe her moft perfuafive figh. To him, what Heaven to man could give, it gave. Wife, generous, honeft, eloquent and brave. Genius and Valour for Argyle fhall mourn. And his own laurels flourifli round his urn. O, may they bloom beneath a fav'ring Iky, And in their fhade Reproach and Enuy die !

* Aichibald, the third Duke of Argyle, died April i J, 1761.

THE

C 143 J

THE VISIONS OF FANCY.

In four elegies, 1762.

La Raifon f^alt que c'eft un Songe,

Mais elle en faifit les douceurs :

Elk a befoin de ces fantomes,

Prefque tons les Plaijirs des Hommes

Ne font que de douces Erreurs. Gresest.

ELEGY I. /CHILDREN of Fancy, whither are ye fled ? ^-^ Where have you borne thofe Hope-enliven'd Hours, Tliat once with myrtle garlands bound my head.

That once beftrew'd my vernal path with flowers ? In yon fair vale, where blooms the beechen grove.

Where winds the flow wave thro' the flowery plain. To thefe fond arms you led the Tyrant, Love,

With Fear and Hope and Folly in his train. My lyre, that, left at carelefs diftance, hung

Light on fome pale branch of the ofier fhade. To lays of amorous blandifliment you ftrung.

And o'er my fleep the lulling mufic play'd. " Rcfl:, gentle youth ! while on the quivering breeze

♦' Slides to thine ear this foftly breathing ftrain ; " Sounds that move fmoother than the {leps of eafe,

" And pour oblivion in the ear of pain. " In this fair vale eternal fpring fliall fmile,

*' And Time unenvious crown each rofeate hour ; '* Eternal joy fliall every care beguile,

" Breathe in each gale, and bloom in every flower.

•« This

14-4. LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

*♦ This filver ftream, that down its cryftal way

•' Frequent has led thy mufing fteps along, *' Shall, ftill the fame, in funny mazes play,

" And with it's murmurs melodife thy fong. *• Unfading green fhall thefe fair groves adorn ;

" Thofe living meads immortal flowers unfold; " In rofy fmiles fhall rife each blufhing morn,

♦* And eveiy evening clofe in clouds of gold. *• The tender Loves that watch thy flumbering refl:,

" And round thee flowers and balmy myrtles ftre^, *♦ Shall charm, thro' all approaching life, thy bread,

" With Joys for ever pure, for ever new.

*' The genial power that fpeeds the golden dart,

" Each charm of tender pafllon fliall infpire ; " With fond afFcftion fill the mutual heart,

" And feed the flame of ever-young Desire. " Come gentle Loves ! your myrtle garlands bring ;

" The fmiling bower with clufter'd rofes fpread; *• Come gentle Airs ! with incenfe-dropping wing

*' The breathing fweets of vernal odour fhed. " Hark, as the ftrains of fwelling mufic rife,

" How the notes vibrate on the fav'ring gale! *• Aufpicious glories beam along the flcies,

'» And powers unfeen the happy moments hail! *' Extatic hours ! fo every diflant day

" Like this ferene on downy wings fhall move ; " Rife crown'd with joys that triumph o'er decay,

*' The faithful joys of Fancy and of Love."

ELEGY

[ H^ 1

ELEGY IL

AN D were they vain, thofe foothing lays ye fung ? Children of Fancy ! yes, your fong was vain ; On each foft air though rapt Attention hung.

And Silence liften'd on the fleeping plain. The ftrains yet vibrate on my raviftit ear.

And ftill to fmile the mimic beauties feem. Though now the vifionary fcenes appear

Like the faint traces of a vanilht dream. Mirror of life ! the glories thus depart

Of all that Youth and Love and Fancy frame. When painful Anguish fpeeds the piercing dart.

Or Envy blafts the blooming flowers of Fame. Nurfe of wild wifhes, and of fond defires.

The prophetefs of Fortune, falfe and vain. To fcenes where Peace in R u i n 's arms expires Fallacious Hope deludes her haplefs train.

Go, Syren, go thy charms on others try ;

My beaten bark at length has reach'd the fhope ; Yet on the rock my dropping garments lie ; And let me perifh, if I truft thee more. Come gentle Quiet ! long-neglefted maid!

O come, and lead me to thy moffy cell ; There unregarded in the peaceful fhade.

With calm Repose and S i l e n c e let me dwell. Come happier hours of fvveet unanxious reft.

When all the ftruggling paflions fhall fubfide ;

When Peace fhall clafp me to her plumy breaft.

And fmoothe my filent minutes as they glide.

But

146 L A N G H O R N E ' S POEMS.

But chief, thou goddefs of the thoughtlefs eye. Whom never cares or paflions difcompofe,

O bleft Insensibility be nigh.

And with thy foothing hand my weary eyelids clofc.

Then fhall the cares of love and glory ceafe.

And all the fond anxieties of fame ; Alike regardlefs in the arms of Peace,

If thefe extol, or thofe debafe a name.

In Lytt ELTON though all the mufes praife. His generous praife (hall then delight no more.

Nor the fweet magick of his tender lays Shall touch the bofom which it charm'd before.

Nor then, though Malice, with infidious guife Of friendfhip, ope the unfufpefting breaft ;

Nor then, though Envy broach her blackening lies. Shall thefe deprive me of a moment's reft.

O ftate to be defir'd ! when hoftile rage

Prevails in human more than favage haunts ;

When man with man eternal war will wage. And never yield that mercy which he wants.

When dark Design invades the chearful hour. And draws the heart with focial freedom warm.

It's cares, it's wiflies, and it's thoughts to pour. Smiling infidious with the hopes of harm.

Vain man, to other's failings ftill fevere. Yet not one foible in himfelf can find ;

Another's faults to Folly's eye are clear. But to her own e'en Wisdom's felf is blind,

Olet

ELEGY III. t45

O let me ftill, from thefe low follies free. This fordid malice, and inglorious ftrife,

Myfelf the fubjeft of my cenfure be.

And teach my heart to comment on ray life.

With thee. Philosophy, ftill let me dwell. My tutor'd mind from vulgar meannefs fave ;

Bring Peace, bring Quiet to my humble cell. And bid them lay the green turf on my grave,

ELEGY III.

BRIGHT o'er the green hills rofe the morning ray. The wood-lark's fong refounded on the plain ;

Fair Nat u r e felt the warm embrace of day. And fmil'd through all her animated leign.

When young Delight, of Hope and Fancy born. His head on tufted wild thyme half-reclin'd.

Caught the gay colours of the orient morn. And thence of life tliis pifture vain defign'd,

** O born to thoughts, to pleafures more fublime *• Than beings of inferior nature prove !

•** To triumph in the golden hours of Ti m e, " And feel the charms of fancy and of love !

" High-favour'd man ! for him unfolding fair *' In orient light this native landfcape fmiles;

*' For him fweet Hop e difarms the hand of care, *' Exalts his pleafures, and his grief beguiles.

Vol. LXXI L "Blows

14^ LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

♦* Blows not a bloflbm on the bread of Spring, " Breathes not a gale along the bending mead,

** Trills not a fongfter of the foaring wing, ** But fragrance, health and melody fucceed,

*' O let me ftill with fimple Nature live, *' My lowly field-flowers on her altar lay,

" Enjoy the bleflings that fhe meant to give, *' And calmly wafte my inofFenfive day!

** No titled name, no envy-teafing dome,

** No glittering wealth my tutor'd wifhes crave ;

*' So Health and Peace be near my humble home, *' A cool ftream murmur, and a green tree wave,

** So may thefweet Euterpe not difdain ** At Eve's chafle hour her filver lyre to bring :

•* The mufe of pity wake her foothing ftrain, ** And tune to fympathy the trembling firing.

** Thus glide the penfive moments, o'er the vale ** While floating fhades of dufky night defcend :

*' Not left untold the lover's tender tale, ** Nor unenjoy'd the heart-enlarging friend.

** To love and friendlhip flow the focial bowl!

** To attic wit and elegance of mind ; ** To all the native beauties of the foul,

** The fimple charms of truth, and fenfe refin'd!

** Then to explore whatever ancient fage *' Studious from nature's early volume drew,

«' To chafe fweet Fiction through her golden age, " Aod mark how fair the fun-flower. Science, blew !

•* Hapl/

ELEGY III. J47

•« Haply to catch fome fpark of eaftern fire,

" Hefperian fancy, or Aonian eafe; « Some melting note from Sappho's tender lyre,

** Some ftrain that Love and Phoebus taught to pleafe,

'* When waves the grey light o'er the mountain's head, " Then let me meet the morn's firfl beauteous ray ;

'* Carelefsly wander from my fylvan flied,

" And catch the fweet breath of the rifmg day.

*' Nor feldom, loitring as I mufe along, *' Mark from what flower the breeze it's fweetnefs bore ; ** Or liften to the labour-foothing fong " Of bees that range the thymy uplands o'er;

** Slow let me climb the mountain's airy brow, *' The green height gain'd, in mufeful rapture lie,

** Sleep to the murmur of the woods below, *' Or look on Nature with a lover's eye.

*« Delightful hours! O, thus for ever flow ;

" Led by fair Fancy round the varied year: *' So {hall my bread with native raptures glow, ** Nor feel one pang from folly, pride, or fear.

*' Firm be my heart to Nature and to Truth, ** Nor vainly wander from their diftates fage; «* So Joy fliall triumph on the brows of youth, *« So Hope fliall fmoothe the dreary paths of age.

L 2 ELEGY

i^'Si LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

ELEGY IV.

OH! yet, ye dear, deluding vifions (lay!

Fond hopes, of Innocence and Fancy bom! For you I'll caft thefe waking thoughts away.

For one wild dream of life's romantic morn;

Ah! no: the funfhine o'er each objeft fpread

By flattering Hope, the flowers that blew fofair;

Like the gay gardens of Armida fled.

And vanifli'd from the powerful rod of Care.

So the poor pilgrim, who in rapturous thought Plans his dear journey to Loretto's flirine.

Seems on his way by guardian feraphs brought. Sees aiding angels favour his defign.

Ambrofial bloffoms, fuch of old as blew By thofe frefli fonnts on Eden's happy plain.

And Sharon's rofes all his paflage ftrew :

So Fancy dreams; but Fancy's dreams are vain;

Wafted and weary on the mountain's fide. His way unknown, the haplefs pilgrim lies.

Or takes fome rutlilefs robber for his guide. And prone beneath his cruel fabre dies.

Life's morning-landfcape gilt with orient light.

Where Hope and Joy and Fancy hold their reign. The grove's green wave, the blue ftream fparkling bright. The blythc hours dancing round Hj^eriott^ wain :

In

ELEGY IV. 14,

Tn radiant colours Youth's free hand pourtrays. Then holds the flattering tablet to his eye j

ixor thinks how foon the vernal grove decays. Nor fees the dark cloud gathering o'er the £ky.

Hence Fancy conquer'd by the dart of Pain, And wandering far from her Platonic fhade.

Mourns o'er the ruins of hertranfient reign. Nor unrepining fees her vifions fade.

Their parent banlfh'd, hence her children fly. Their fairy race that fill'd her fefi:ive train ;

; Y tears his wreath, and Hope inverts her eye. And Folly wonders that her dream was vain.

lu% A P O E M

[ lio ]

M,

TO THE MEMORY OF

Mr.

HANDEL, 1760*.

OPIRITSof mufic, and ye powers of fong !

^ That wak'd to painful melody the lyre

Of young Jessides, when, in Sion's vale

He wept o'er bleeding friendfhip ; ye that mourn'd

While freedom drooping o'er Euphrates' ftream.

Her penfive harp on the pale ofier hung.

Begin once more the forrow-foothing lay.

Ah ! where fhall now the Mufe fit numbers find ? What accents pure to greet thy tuneful fhade. Sweet harmonift ? 'twas thine, the tender fall Of pity's plaintive lay; for thee the ftream Of filver-winding mufic fweeter play'd. And purer flow'd for thee, - all filent now + Thofeairs that, breathing o'er the breaft of Thames, Led amorous Echo down the long, long vale. Delighted ; fludious from thy fweeter ftrain To melodife her own ; when fancy-lorn. She mourns in Anguifh o'er the drooping breaft Of young Narcissus. From their amber urns, ;j: Parting their green locks ftreaming in the fun,

*He died 14 April, 1 759. + The Water-Mufic.

J Rorantcfij; Comas a Fronte remorit ad Aurcsi Ovid. Mtt

TM

TO THE MEMORY OF HANDEL. i^t

The Naiads rofe and fmird : nor fince the day. When firft by mufic, and by freedom led From Grecian Ac id ale; nor fince the day. When laft from Arno's weeping fount they came. To fmooth the ringlets of Sabrina's hair. Heard they like minftrelfy — fountains and fhades Of Twit'nam, and of Windsor fam'd in fong! Ye heights of Clermont, and ye bowers of Ham! That heard the fine ftrain vibrate through your groves. Ah ! where were then your long-lov'd Mufes fled. When Handel breath'd no more?— and thou, fweeC

Queen, That nightly wrapt thy Milton's hallow'dear In the foft ecftafies of Lydian airs ; * That fince attun'd to Handel's high-wound lyre The lay by thee fuggefted; could "ft not thou Soothe with thy fweet fong the grim+ fury's breaft ?

Cold-hearted Death! his wanly-glaring eye Nor virtue's fmile attrafts, nor fame's loud trump Can pierce his iron ear, for ever barr'd To gentle founds : the golden voice of fong. That charms the gloomy partner of his birth. That foothes Defpair and Pain, he hears no more. Than rude winds, bluft'ring from the C a m b r i a n cliffs^ The traveller's feeble lay. To court fair fame. To toil with flow fleps up the flar-crown'd hill,

* L'AUegroand II Penferofo, fet to Mufic by Mr, Handei,. + See Milton's Lycidas.

L4 Where

152 LANGHORNE^S P0EM3

Where fcience, leaning on her fculptur'd urn.

Looks confcious on the fecret-working hand

Of Nature ; on the wings of genius borne.

To foar above the beaten walks of life.

Is, like the paintings of an evening cloud,

Th' amufement of an hour. Night, gloomy night

Spreads her black wings, and all the vifion dies.

Ere long, the heart, that heaves this figh to thee. Shall beat no more ! ere long, on this fond lay Which mourns at Handel's tomb, infulting Time Shall ftrew his cankering ruft. Thy ftrain, perchance. Thy facred ftrain fhall the hoar warrior fpare ; For founds like thine, at Nature's early birth, Arous"d him flumbering on the dead profound Of dufky Chaos ; by the golden harps Of choral angels fummon'd to his race : And founds like thine, when nature is no more. Shall call him weary from the lengthen'd toils Of twice tenthoufand years. — O would his hand Yet fpare fome portion of this vital flame. The trembling Mufe that now faint effort makes On young and artlefs wing, lliould bear thy praife Sublime, above the mortal bounds of earth. With heavenly fire relume her feeble ray. And, tauglit by Seraphs, frame her fong for thee,

I FEEL, I feel the facred impulfe — hark J Wak'd from according Lyres the fweet ftrains flow In fymphony divine ; from air to air The trembling numbers fly : fwift burfts away

The

TO THE MEMORY OF HANDEL. 153

The flow of joy — now fvvells the flight of praife. Springs the flirill trump aloft ; the toiling chords Melodious labour through the flying maze ; And the deep bafe his ftrong found rolls away,

Majeftically fweet. Yet, Handel, raife.

Yet wake to higher ftrains thy facred lyre : The name of ages, the fupreme of things. The great Messiah a(ks it; He whofe hand Led into form yon ev eriafting Orbs, The harmony of nature — He whofe hand Stretch'd o'er the wilds of fpace this beauteous ball, Whofe fpirit breathes through all his fmiling works Mufic and love— -yet Handel raife the ftrain.

Hark! what angelic founds, what voice divine Breathes through the ravilht air! my rapt ear feel* The harmony of Heaven; Hail facred Choir! Immortal Spirits, hail ! If haply thofe That erft infavour'd Palestine proclaim'd Glory and peace : her angel-haunted groves. Her piny mountains, and her golden vales Re-echo'd peace — But, Oh! fufpend the {train— The fwelling joy's too much for mortal bounds I 'Tis tranfport even to pain.

Yet, hark? what pleafing founds invite mine ear So venerably fweet ? 'Tis Sign's lute. Behold her * hero ! from his valiant brow Looks Judah's lyon, on his tliigh thefword

♦ Judas Maccabseus.

c Of

J54. LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Of vanqulfh'd Apollonius — The fhrill trump Through Bethoron proclaims th' approaching fight. I fee the brave youth lead his little band. With toil and hunger faint ; yet from his arm The rapid Syrian flies. Thus Henry once. The Britifli Henry, with his way-worn troop, Subdu'd the pride of France — Now louder blows The martial clangor ; lo Ni c a no r's hoft ! With threat'ning turrets crown'd, fiowly advance

The ponderous elephants •

The blazing fun, from many a golden fhield Refleded, gleams afar. Judean chief! How fhall thy force, thy little force fuftain The dreadful {hock!

+ The hero comes — 'Tis boundlefs mirth and fong And dance and triumph ; every labouring ftring. And voice, and breathing fhell in concert ftrain To fwell the raptures of tumultuous joy.

O mafter of the paffions and the foul. Seraphic Handel ! how fhall words defcribe Thy mufic's countlefs graces, naraelefs powers!

Whenj he of Gaza, blind, and funk in chains> Ou female treachery looks greatly down. How the breaft bums indignant! in thy ftrain. When fweet-voic'd piety refigns to heaven. Glows not each bofom with the flame of virtue ?

+ Chorus of youths, in Judas Maccabeus, J See the Oratorio of Samfon,

O'er

TO THE MEMORY OF HANDEL. 155

O'er Jephtha's votive maid when the foft lute Sounds the flow fymphony of funeral grief. What youthful breaft bcit melts with tender pity ? What parent bleeds not with a parent's woe ?

O, longer than this worth lay can live ! While fame and mufic footh the human ear! Be this thy praife : to lead the polifh'd mind To virtue's nobleft heights; to light the flame Of Britifli freedom, roufe the generous thought^ Refine the paflions, and exalt the foul To love, to heaven, to harmony and thee.

THE

[ 154 ]

THE ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. EPISTLE I. TO GENERAL CRAUFURD.

WRITTEN AT BELVIDEREj

.76;.

WH E R E is the man, who, prodigal of mind. In one wide wi(h embraces human kind ? All pride of fefls, all party zeal above, Whofe Prieft is Reafon, and whofe God is Love ; Fair Nature's friend, a foe to fraud and art Where is the man, fo welcome to my heart ?

The fightlefs herd fequacious, who purfue Dull Folly's path, and do as others do. Who look with purblind prejudice and fcorn. On different fefts, in different nations born. Let Us, my Craufurd, with compaffion view. Pity their pride, but fliun their error too.

From Belvidere's fair groves, and mountains green. Which Nature rais'd, rejoicing to befeen. Let Us, while raptur'd on her works we gaze. And the heart riots on luxurious praife, Th' expanded thought, the boundlefs wilh retain. And let not Nature moralize in vain.

O facred Guide! preceptrefs more fublime Than fages boafting o'er the wrecks of time !

See

ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. 155

See on each page her beauteous volume bear The golden charafters of good and fair. All human knowledge (bliifli collegiate pride!) Flows from her works, to none that reads denied.

Shall the dull inmate of pedantic walls. On whofe old walk the funbeam feldom falls. Who knows of nature, and of man no more

Than fills fome page of antiquated lore

Shall he, in words and terms profoundly wife, 'J'he better knowledge of the world defpife. Think Wifdom center'd in afal/e degree^ And fcorn the fcholar of Humanity ?

Something of men thefe fapient drones may know. Of men that liv'd two thoufand years ago. Such human monfters if the world e'er knew. As ancient verfe, and ancient ftory drew!

If to one objeft, fyftem, fcene confm'd. The fure efFeft is narrownefs of mind.

'Twas thus St. Robert, in his lonely wood, Forfook each focial duty — to be good. Thus HoBBES on one dear fyftem fix'd his eyes. And prov'd his nature wretched— to be wife. Each zealot thus, elate with ghoftly pride. Adores liis God, and hates the world befide.

Though form'd with powers to grafp this various ball^ Gods! to what meannefs may the fpirit fall?

Powers

J5« LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Powers that fhould fpread in Reafon's orient rav. How are they darken "d, and debarr'd the day !

When late, where Tajo rolls his ancient tide, Reflefting clear the Mountain's purple fide. Thy genius, Craufurd, Britain's legions led. And Fear's chill cloud forfook each brightning head. By nature brave, and generous as thou art. Say did not human follies vex thy heart ? Glow'd not thy breaft indignant, when you faw The dome of Murder confecrate by Law ? Where fiends, commiffion'd with the legal rod. In pure devotion, burn the works of God.

O change me, powers of Nature, if ye can. Transform me, make me any thing but man. Yet why ? This heart all human kind forgives. While G I L L M A N loves me, and while C r a u f u rd lives. Is Nature, all benevolent, to blame. That half her offspring are their mother's fhame ? Did Ihe ordain o'er this fair fcene of things The cruelty of Priefts, or pride of Kings ? Though worlds lie murder'd for their wealth or fame. Is Nature all-benevolent to blame ?

«* Yet furely once, my friend, fhe feem'd to err; *' For W — ch — t was" - He was not made by her. Sure, form'd of clay that Nature held in fcorn. By fiends conftrufted, and in darknefs bom, Rofe the low wretch, who, defpicably vile. Would fell his Country for a Courtier's fmile ;

Would

ENLARGMENT OF THE MIND. ,59

Would give up all to truth or freedom dear. To dine with **** or fome ideot pser, Whofe mean malevolence, in dark difguife The man that never injur'd him belies, "Whofe adlions bad and good two motives guide. The Serpent's malice, and the Coxcomb's pride. *' Is there a wretch fo mean, fo bafe, fo low ? " I know there is — alk W — ch— t if he know.

O that the world were emptied of it's flaves! That all the fools were gone, and all the knaves! Then might we, Craufurd, with delight embrace. In boundlefs love, the reft of human race.

But let not knaves mifanthropy create. Nor feed the gall of univerfal hate. Wherever Genius, Truth, and Virtue dwell, Polifh'd in courts, or fimple in a cell. All views of- country, feds, and creeds apart, Thefe, thefe I love, and hold them to my heart.

Vain of our beauteous Ille, and juftly vain. For freedom here, and health, and plenty reign. We different lots contemptuouQy compare. And boaft, like children, of a Fav'rite's fhare.

Yet though each vale a deeper verdure yields Than Arno's banks, or Andalufia's fields. Though many a tree crown'd mountain teems with ore. Though flocks innumerous whiten every fhore. Why fhould we, thus with nature's wealth elate. Behold her difFererit families with hate ?

Look

s6o LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

Look on her works — on every page you'll find Infcrib'd the doftrine of the fecial mind.

See countlefs worlds of infeft being fhare Th' unenvicd regions of the liberal air ! In the fame grove what mufic void of ftrife ! Heirs of one ftream what tribes of fcaly life! See Earth, and Air, and Fire, and Flood combine Of general good to aid the great defign !

Where An con drags o'er Li ncoln's lurid plain. Like a flow fnake, his dirty-winding train, "Where fogs eternal blot the face of day. And the loll Bittern moans his gloomy way ; As well we might, for unpropitious Ikies, The blamelefs native with his clime defpife. As him who ftill the poorer lot partakes Of Biscay V mountains, or Batavia's lakes.

Yet look once more on Nature's various plan ! Behold, and love her noblefl: creature man! She, never partial, on each various zone, Beftow'd fome portion, to the reft unknown. By mutual intereft meaning thence to bind In one vaft chain the commerce of mankind.

Behold, ye vain difturbers of an hour! Ye Dupes of Faftion! and ye Tools of Power! Poor rioters on Life's contraded ftage! Behold, and lofeyour littlenefs of rage ! Throw Envy, Folly, Prejudice, behind! And yield to Truth the empire of the mind.

Im-

ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. i6i

Immortal Truth ! O from thy radiant fhrine. Where Light created firft effay'd to (hine ; Where cluft'ring Stars eternal beams difplay. And Gems ethereal drink, the golden day; To chafe this moral, clear this fenfual night, O filed one ray of thy celeftial light ! Teach us, while wandering through this vale below We know but little, that we little kaow. One beam to mole-ey'd Prejudice convey. Let Pride perceive one mortifying ray j Thy glafs to Fools, to Infidels apply. And all the dimnefs of the mental eye.

Plac'd on this fhore of dime's far-ftretcing bourn. With leave to look at Nature and return; While wave on wave impels the human tide. And ages fink, forgotten as they glide; Can Life's fliort duties better be difcharg'd. Than when we leave it with a mind enlarg'd ?

Judg'd not the old Philofopher aright. When thus he preach'd, his pupils in his fight ? ** It matters not, my friends, how low or high. Your little walk of tranfient life may lie ; Soon will the reign of Hope and Fear be o'er. And warring paffions militate no more : And truft me, he who, having once furvey'd The good and fair which Nature's wifdom made. The fooneft to his former ftace retires. And feels the peace of fatisfied defires.

Vol. LXXI. M L?t

i«» LANGHORNE'S POEMS.

(Let others deem more wifely if they can) I look on him to be the happieft man."

So thought the facred Sage, in whom I truft, Becaufe I feel his fentiments are juft. 'Twas not in Luftrums of long counted years That fweird th' alternate reign of hopes and fears ; Not in the fplendid fcenes of pain and ftrife. That Wifdom plac'd the dignity of life ; To ftudy Nature was the ta(k defign'd. And learn from her th' enlargement of the mind. Learn from her works whatever Truth admires. And fleep in Death with fatisfied defires.

THE

[ ^63 ]

THE ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND.

E P I S T I E II.

TO V/ILLIAM LANGHORNE, M. A. 1760.

T IGHT HEARD HIS VOICE, and, eager to

-•L-/ obey.

From all her orient fountains burfi: away.

At Nature's birth, O ! had the power divine Commanded thus the moral fun to (bine, Beam'd on the mind all reafon's influence bright. And the full day of intellcBual light. Then the free foul, on Truth's ftrong pinion born. Had never languifh'd in this Ihade forlorn.

Yet thus imperfeft form'd, thus blind and vain, Doom'd by long toil a glimpfe of truth to gain ; Beyond its fphere fliall human wifdom go. And boldly cenfure what it cannot know? 'Tis our's to cherKh what Heav'n deign'd to give. And thankful for the gift of Being live.

Progreffive powers, and faculties that rife From earth's low vale, to grafp the golden Ikies, Though diftant far from perfeft, good, or fair. Claim the due thought, and alk the grateful care.

Come, then, thou partner of my life and name. From one dear fource, whom Nature form'd the fame, M 2 Ally'd

i6+ langhorne'S poems.

Ally'd more nearly in each nobler part.

And more the friend , than brother, of my heart !

Let us, unlike the lucid twins that rife

At different times, and (hine in diftant Ikies,

With mutual eye this mental world furvey,

Mark the flow rife of intelleftual day,'

View reafon's fource, if man the fource may find.

And trace each Science that exalts the mind.

** Thou felf-appointed Lord of all below! " Ambitious man, how little doft thou know? " For once let Fancy's towering thoughts fubfide j *' Look on thy birth, and mortify thy pride! " A plaintive wretch, fo blind, fo helplefs born, *' The brute fagacious might behold with fcorn. *' How foon, when Nature gives him to the day, ** In ftrength exulting, does he bound away!