ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1797.
BY HENRY JAMES PYE, ESQ. POET-LAUREAT.
'ER the vex'd bofom of the deep,
When rufhing wild, with frantic haste,
The winds with angry pinions fweep
The furface of the wat'ry wafte,
Though the firm veffel proudly brave
The inroad of the giant wave,
Though the bold feaman's firmer foul
Views unappall'd the billowy mountains roll,
Yet ftill along the murky sky
Anxious he throws th' enquiring eye,
If haply through the gloom that round him low'rs
Shoots one refulgent ray, prelude of happier hours.
So Albion, round her rocky coaft,
While loud the rage of battle roars,
Derides Invafion's haughty boast;
Safe in her wave-encircled fhores,
Still fafer in her dauntless band,
Lords of her feas, or guardians of her land,
Whofe patriot zeal, whofe bold emprize,
Rife as the ftorms of danger rife;
Yet, temp'ring glory's ardent flame
With gentle mercy's milder claim,
She bends from scenes of blood th' averted eye,
And courts the smiles of peace 'mid shouts of victory.
She courts in vain!-The ruthless foe,
Deep drench'd in blood, yet thirsting still for more,
Deaf to the fhrieks of agonizing woe,
Views with rapacious eye each neighb'ring fhore.
Mine be th' eternal fway, aloud he cries;
Where'er my fword prevails, my conqu'ring banner flies.
Grafp the strong fhield, and fhake th' avenging fpear.
By wreaths thy hardy fons of yore
From Gallia's creft victorious tore;
By Edward's lily-blazon'd fhield;
By Agincourt's high-trophy'd field;
By rafh Iberia's naval pride,
Whelm'd by Eliza's barks beneath the stormy tide;
Call forth thy warrior race again,
Breathing to ancient mood the foul-infpiring ftrain,-
"To arms! your eusigns straight display!
"Now fet the battle in array!
"The oracle for war declares,
"Succefs depends upon our hearts and spears.
"Britons, strike home! revenge your country's wrongs;
"Fight, and record yourselves in Druid fongs!"
ODE FOR HIS MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY, 1797.
BY HENRY JAMES PYE, ESQ. POET-LAUREAT.
Set to Mufic by Sir W. Parfons, Mus. D.
WHILE the frowning Lord of arms
Shall yield to gentler pow'rs the plain;
Lo! Britain greets the milder charms
Of Cytherea's reign.
Mute is the trumpet's brazen throat,
And the sweet flute's melodious note
Floats on the soft ambrofial gale;
The fportive Loves and Graces round,
Beating with jocund ftep the ground,
Th' aufpicious nuptials hail!
The Mufes ceafe to weave the wreath of war,
But hang their rofeate flow'rs on Hymen's golden car!
When o'er Creation's blotted face
Drear Night her fable banner rears,
And veils fair Nature's vernal grace,
Encircled round by doubts and fears,
Through darkfome mists and chilling dews
His path the wand'rer's foot pursues,
Till, fhining clear in orient skies,
He views the ftar of Venus rise,
And joys to fee the genial pow'r:
Bright harbinger of morning's hour!
*Thefe laft lines were inferted at the defire of the King.
And now a flood of radiance streams
From young Aurora's blushing beams,
Till rob'd in gorgeous ftate, the orb of day
Spreads o'er the laughing earth his full refulgent ray!
Bleft be the omen, royal pair!
may the hymeneal rite,
That joins the valiant and the fair,
Shed on the nations round its placid light!
Her fertile plain though Albion fee
From favage devastation free;
Though with triumphant fail fhe reign
Sole Emprefs of the fubject main,
She longs to bid the thunders fleep
Which thake the regions of the deep,
That crowding nations far and wide,
Borne peaceful o'er the ambient tide,
May share the bleffings that endear the day
Which gave a patriot king a patriot race to fway!
SONNET.- BY THE LATE EARL OF ORFORD.
S the Mole's filent ftream crept penfive along,
And the winds murmur'd folemn the willows among.
On the green turf complaining a fwain lay reclin'd,
And wept to the river, and figh'd to the wind.
In vain (he cry'd) Nature has waken'd the spring;
In vain blooms the violet, the nightingales fing:
To a heart full of forrow no beauties appear:
Each zephyr 's a figh, and each dew-drop's a tear!
In vain my Sophia has graces to move
The faireft to envy, the wifeft to love :-
Her prefence no longer gives joy to my eye,
Since without her to live is more pain than to die!
O that flumber his pinions would over me spread,
And paint but her image, in dreams, in her stead!
The beautiful vifion would foften my pain:
'But fleep's a relief I folicit in vain!
THE PILGRIM.-FROM POEMS BY R. SOUTHEY
WITH way-worn feet a pilgrim woe-begone, Life's upward road I journey'd many a day, And hymning many a fad yet foothing lay, Beguil'd my wand'ring with the charms of fong.
Lonely my heart, and rugged was the way,
Yet often pluck'd I, as I pafs'd along,
The wild and fimple flow'rs of poefy;
And, as befeem'd the wayward fancy's child,
Entwin'd each random weed that pleas'd mine eye!
Accept the wreath belov'd! it is both wild
And rudely garlanded; yet fcorn not thou
The humble off'ring, where the fad rue weaves
'Mid gayer flow'rs its intermingled leaves,
For I have twin'd the myrtle for thy brow.
ALONZO THE BRAVE, AND FAIR IMOGINE.-A Romance. FROM MR. LEWIS'S NOVEL OF THE MONK.
WARRIOR fo bold and a virgin fo bright,
A Convers'd as they fat on the green;
They gaz'd on each other with tender delight!
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight;
The maid's was the fair imogine.
And oh !" faid the youth, "fince to-morrow I go
"To fight in a far diftant land,
Your tears for my absence foon leaving to flow,
"Some other will court you, and you will bestow
"On a wealthier fuitor your hand!"
Oh hufh these fufpicions,' fair Imogine faid,
'Offenfive to love and to me!
For if you be living, or if you be dead,
I fwear by the virgin that none in your stead
Shall husband of Imogine be.
If e'er I, by luft or by wealth led afide,
Forget my Alonzo the Brave,
'God grant that, to punish my falfehood and pride,
Your ghoft at my marriage may fit by my
May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride,
And bear me away to the grave !'
To Palestine haften'd the hero fo bold;
His love fhe lamented him fore :--
But scarce had a twelvemonth elaps'd when, behold,
A baron, all cover'd with jewels and gold,
Arriv'd at fair Imogine's door.
His treasure, his prefents, his fpacious domain
Soon made her untrue to her vows:
He dazzled her eyes, he bewilder'd her brain;
He caught her affections, fo light and fo vain,
And carry'd her home as his spouse!
And now had the marriage been bleft by the priest;
The revelry now was begun;
The tables they groan'd with the weight of the feaft;
Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceas'd,
When the bell at the castle toll'd—ONE!
Then firft, with amazement, fair Imogine found
That a stranger was plac'd by her fide!-
His air was terrific; he utter'd no found;
He spoke not, he mov'd not, he look'd not around,
But earneftly gaz'd on the bride!
His vizor was clos'd, and gigantic his height;
His armour was fable to view :-
All pleasure and laughter were hufh'd at his fight;
The dogs, as they ey'd him, drew back in affright;
The lights in the chamber burn'd blue!
His prefence all bofoms appear'd to difmay;
The guests fat in filence and fear;
At length fpoke the bride, while the trembl'd, "I pray,
Sir Knight, that your helmet afide you would lay,
And deign to partake of our cheer!"
The lady is filent: the ftranger complies;
His vizor he flowly unclos'd.-
Oh, God, what a fight met fair Imogine's eyes!
What words can exprefs her difmay and furprife,
When a skeleton's head was expos'd!
All present then utter'd a terrify'd shout;
All turn'd with difguft from the scene;
The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept out,
And fported his eyes and his temples about,
While the fpectre addrefs'd Imogine:
"Behold me, thou falfe one; behold me!" he cry'd :
"Remember Alonzo the Brave!
"God grants, that, to punish thy falfehood and pride,
"My ghoft at thy marriage fhould fit by thy fide;
"Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as bride,
"And bear thee away to the grave!"
Thus faying, his arms round the lady he wound,
While loudly the fhriek'd in difmay;
Then funk with his prey thro' the wide-yawning ground!
Nor never again was fair Imogine found,
Or the ipectre who bore her away.
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