PETRARCH:

A VISION.

WITH mufing wearied, on my couch I

lay,

And loft in fleep the labours of the day. From high (methought) I heard a facred found,

A heavenly radiance fill'd the chamber round.
Never (till then) fuch mufic charm'd my car;
So foft, fo full, fo melting, yet fo clear.→
No burfting peal, as if a crowded band;
A ftrain of few it feem'd, and each a mafter
hand:

At meafur'd clofes, voice of feraph kind,
In fweet refponfe, or bolder chorus, join'd.

Not fuch the glory, as of caftern skies, When cruel funs in tyrant fplendour rife; Nor cold and watry, like the lunar ray, Confelt the want, and wept the lofs of day. Not fierce it flam'd intolerable glare, As when Pelides rofe at Homer's pray'r: Bright as the curtains by th' enamour'd dawn, In hours of love, o'er young Tithonus drawn, Clear as the chariot of etherial fire, That wrapt Cecilia to th' angelic choir; A glad fuffufion, an extatic light, It rais'd the fpirit, while it chear'd the fight: The central brightnefs gleam'd a rofeat hue, The border faded to celeftial blue.

A holy horror tingled thro' my blood;
Before my eyes the form of Petrarch stood,
Not in religion's humble weeds array'd,
Not fuch in 'guife as o'er Valclufe he ftray'd;
Nor in his garb was worldly grandeur shown,
Or tinfel glare to wretched mortals known.
White flow'd his robe, not dead and paly
white,

But liquid tillue of tranfparent light.
Lefs thin, the fleece o'erfpreads the fummer

fkies;

Lefs bright and clear the northern streamers

"compare,

"Like Laura gentle, and like Laura fair; "And fince the day that Laura was inurn'd, "Thy paffion only hath like Petrarch's "burn'd.

"But would't thou dare to Petrarch's fame "afpire,

"Then learn to emulate his conftant fire. "Twice twenty years th' unwearied lyre "fhall found;

"Twice twenty years thy forrows bathe "the ground.

"Forego thy kindred,-thy companions "fly;

"Conceal thy grief from every human eye; "Renounce th' ambitious hope, the selfish

"aim;

"With prudence war, and woo contempt

and fhame;

"To tangled brakes repair, and lonely "woods,

"The cave, th' impending rock, the head"long floods;

fight,

"There

"Mean as thou art, and fall'n on evil days, "When harden'd hearts defpife the tuneful "theme,

-and never more fhall

"And impious tongues almighty Love blaf"pheme. "The time is paft;"bard "On this low earth receive the proud "reward.

"Oh born to feel a doom of double hate, "Poet and lover, in the wrath of fate; "Behold what joy the poet's guerdon lends, "And mark what woe the lover's bofom "rends.

"On Petrarch's birth propitious Nature "fmil'd,

"And Fortune too endow'd the wond'rous "child;

"But ill ftarr'd Paffion fhap'd my lot for pain; "And Nature's fmiles and Fortune's gifts 66 were vain.

"Mine the clear fpirit, mine the matchlefs lyre,

"The thoughts of angels, and the words of " fire;

"Mine ev'ry grace to win the female mind, "And ev'ry art to fway the manly kind. "Contending monarchs woo'd me for their

"own,

"No human force. could tear that flow'ry "wreath,

"Eternal adamant lay hid beneath. "She lanc'd my bofom, took the beating "heart,

"And pierc'd it thro' with many a burning "dart:

"Then quick return'd, while yet the gore "diftill'd,

"With wishes, pangs, defpair, and frenzy "fill'd;

“And, “Rove (she said), for years of anguish 66 rove,

"The pride, the martyr of imperious love. "Go, bright in fufferings, agonize to fame; "Go, like the phenix, feed a matchleis "flame:

"Thy parting fpirit fball in glory rife; "And clouds of incenfe waft thee to the "kies.

"O wretched man! whom ftormy paffion "bears,

"To fail to glory thro' a flood of tears! "To guide his helm, capricious Fancy stands; "And treach'rous Hope conceals the shifting "fands.

"But thou beware, avoid the fatal coaft, "Ere yet thy pinnace on the fhoals is loft. "Truft not the comfort that would dawn "on thee:

"Ah what avails-tho' Clara yet is free? "Ere yet th' irrevocable word is paft, "Ere Hymen yet the awful die hath cait, "Thou dar'it to hope, -What anguish doft

"thou ftore

See

But

But fhould kind Spring her wonted bounty ihow'r,

The fmile of beauty, and the voice of

fong; If gloomy thought the human mind o'erpow'r

Ev'n vernal hours glide unenjoy'd along.

I fhun the fcenes where madd'ning Paffion

raves,

Where Pride and Folly high dominion hold,

And unrelenting Avarice drives her flaves
O'er proftrate Virtue in purfuit of gold.

The graffy lane, the wood-furrounded field, The rude ftone fence with fragrant wallflow'rs gay,

The clay-built cot, to me more pleasure yield,

Than all the pomp imperial domes difplay.

And yet, e'en here, amid these secret fhades, Thefe fimple scenes of unreprov'd delight, Affliction's iron hand my breaft invades,

And death's dread dart is ever in my fight.

While genial funs to genial fhow'rs fucceed (The air all mildnefs, and the earth all bloom);

While herds and flocks range sportive o'er the mead,

Crop the fweet herb, and fnuff the rich perfume;

O why alone to hapless man deny'd

To tafte the blifs inferior beings boast? O why this fate, that fear and pain divide His few fhort hours on earth's delightful

coaft?

Why elfe the fmiling infant train fo bleft,
Ere ill propenfion ripens into fin,
Ere wild defire inflames the youthful breaft,
And dear-bought knowledge ends the
peace within ?

As to the bleating tenants of the field,

As to the sportive warblers on the trees, To them their joys fincere the feafons yield, And all their days and all their profpc&ts pleafe;

Such mine, when first from London's crowded streets

Rov'd my young fters to Surry's woodcrowr'd hills,

O'er new-blown meads that breath'd a thoufand fweets,

By thady coverts, and by cryftal rills.

They feel the blifs that Hope and Faith fupply;

They pafs ferene th' appointed hours that bring

The day that wafts them to the realms on high,

The day that centers in Eternal Spring.

The following LINES were written by Lord NORTH, when he was at Eton School. "Sic eat quæcunque Romanum lugeret "hoftem."

RIMUS ovans, raptifque infignis Horatius armis,

PRIM

Tela gravi quaffans ibat ahena manu. Quem foror ut muris venientem afpexit ab altis

Fila trahens lenta defidiofa colo, Vidit, et agnovit cæfi procul arma mariti, Agnovit croceam (fecerat ipfa) togam. Ipfa dedit, manibus fufi cecidere remifli, Quique fuit rofcus fugit ab ore color; Exilit inde farens, rapidoque ita fervida paffu

Evolat, ut magno concita Baccha Dco.

E:

Ét procul: "Oh nec adhuc fraterno, nomine digne !

Hæccine fors oculis obvia dona meis? Anne pios ultro cupis irritare dolores? Et fponfæ occifi porrigis arma viri? Hei mihi! facratam tibi caftæ ad Palladis

arcem,

Sum prece thuricremis devenerata focis, Ut reduci poffim circumdare brachia fratri,

Vivit enim frater, jacet udâ abjectus arenâ.

Et fratre et vitâ charior ille meâ. At tibi Dii meritas fumant de fanguine pœnas, Si qua manet læfo vis pietafque polo, Qui ferro tuleris vetitoque (immane) duello Rumpere quæ fidus fœdera fanxit Hymen. Redde virum fponfæ, connubia redde forori, Hei mihi quo miferam nefcius error agit. Ille procul gelidi friget fub tegmine cæli,

Fufus ad hyberni triftia flabra Noti. Dignus at ille tamen cui fceptrum dextra

By a bare Yes. Who would with patience bear
To fret and linger out a fingle life,
But that the dread of fomething yet untry'd,
Some hazard in a ftate from whole ftrict
bond

Death only can release, puzzles the will, And makes us rather chufe thofe ills we have,

Than fly to others which we fancy greater ? This laft reflexion makes us flow and wary, Filling the dubious mind with dreadful thoughts

Of curtain-lectures, jealoufies, and cares Extravagantly great, entail'd on wedlock, Which to avoid the lover checks his paffion, And, miferable, dies a bachelor.

T. CBRE.

SONNET