Portent, and pain! a menace, and a blow!
Like the black raven hov'ring o'er my peace,
Not lefs a bird of omen, than of
prey.
It call'd NARCISSA long before her hour;
It call'd her tender foul, by break of blifs,
From the first bloffom, from the buds of joy;
Those few our noxious fate unblafted leaves
In this inclement clime of human life.
Sweet harmonist! and Beautiful as fweet!
And Young as beautiful! and Soft as young!
And Gay as foft! and Innocent as gay!
And Happy (if aught Happy here) as good!
For fortune fond had built her neft on high.
Like birds quite exquifite of note and plume,
Transfixt by fate (who loves a lofty mark)
How from the fummit of the grove she fell,
And left it unharmonious! All its charm
Extinguisht in the wonders of her fong!
Her fong ftill vibrates in my ravisht ear,
Still melting there, and with voluptuous pain
(O to forget her!) thrilling thro' my heart!
Song, Beauty, Youth, Love, Virtue, Joy! this group
Of bright ideas, flow'rs of paradife,
yet unforfeit! in one blaze we bind,
Kneel, and present it to the fkies; as All
We guess of heav'n: And these were all her own.
And he was mine; and I was-was !-most bleft-
Gay title of the deepest mifery!
As bodies grow more pond'rous, robb'd of life
Good loft weighs more in grief, than gain'd, in joy.
Like bloffom'd trees o'erturn'd by vernal ftorm,
Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay;
And if in death ftill lovely, lovelier There ;
Far lovelier! pity fwells the tide of love.
And will not the fevere excufe a figh?
Scorn the proud man that is afham'd to weep;
Our tears indulg'd indeed deferve our shame.
Ye that e'er loft an angel! pity me.
Soon as the luftre languifht in her eye,
Dawning a dimmer day on human fight;
And on her cheek, the refidence of spring,
Pale omen fat; and scatter'd fears around
On all that faw (and who would ceafe to gaze,
That once had feen ?) with hafte, parental hafte,
I flew, I fnatch'd her from the rigid north,
Her native bed, on which bleak Boreas blew,
And bore her nearer to the fun; the fun
(As if the fun could envy) checkt his beam,
Deny'd his wonted fuccour; nor with more
Regret beheld her drooping, than the bells
Of lilies; faireft lilies, not so fair!
Queen lilies! and ye painted populace!
Who dwell in fields, and lead ambrofial lives;
In morn and ev'ning dew, your beauties bathe,
And drink the fun; which gives your cheeks to glow,
And out-blush (mine excepted) ev'ry fair;
You gladlier grew, ambitious of her hand,
Which often cropt your odours, incense meet
To thought fo pure! Ye lovely fugitives!
Coæval race with man! for man you smile;
D 2
Why not smile at him too? You share indeed
His fudden pafs; but not his conftant pain.
So man is made, nought minifters delight,
But what his glowing paffions can engage;
And glowing paffions, bent on aught below,
Muft, foon or late, with anguish turn the fcale;
And anguish, after rapture, how severe !
Rapture Bold man! who tempts the wrath divine,
By plucking fruit deny'd to mortal tafte,
While here, prefuming on the rights of heav'n.
For transport doft thou call on ev'ry hour,
LORENZO? At thy friend's expence be wife;
Lean not on earth; 'twill pierce thee to the heart;
A broken reed, at beft; but, oft, a fpear;
On its fharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires.
Turn, hopeless thought! turn from her:-Thought Refenting rallies, and wakes ev'ry woe.
[repell'd Snatch'd ere thy prime! and in thy bridal hour! And when kind fortune, with thy lover, fmil'd! And when high flavour'd thy fresh op'ning joys! And when blind man pronounc'd thy blífs complete! And on a foreign fhore; where ftrangers wept! Strangers to Thee; and, more furprising still, Strangers to Kindness, wept: Their eyes let fall Inhuman tears, ftrange tears! that trickled down From marble hearts! obdurate tenderness! A tenderness that call'd them more fevere; In spite of nature's soft persuasion, steel'd; While nature melted, fuperftition rav'd ;
That mourn'd the dead; and this deny'd a grave.
Their fighs incenft; fighs foreign to the will!
Their will the tyger fuck'd, outrag'd the ftorm.
For Oh! the curft ungodliness of zeal!
While finful fleh relented, Spirit nurst
In blind infallibility's embrace,
The fainted spirit petrify'd the breaft;
Deny'd the charity of duft, to spread
O'er duft! a charity their dogs enjoy.
What could I do? What fuccour? What resource?
With pious facrilege, a grave I ftole;
With impious piety, that grave I wrong'd;
Short in my duty; coward in my grief!
More like her murderer, than friend, I crept,
With foft-fufpended ftep, and muffled deep
In midnight darkness, whisper'd my laft figh.
I whisper'd what should echo thro' their realms ;
Nor writ her name, whofe tomb fhould pierce the skies.
Prefumptuous fear! How durft I dread her foes,
While nature's loudeft dictates I obey'd?
Pardon neceffity, bleft shade! Of grief
And indignation rival bursts I pour'd;
Half execration mingled with my prayer;
Kindled at man, while I his God ador'd ;
Sore grudg'd the savage land her facred duft;
Stampt the curft foil; and with humanity
(Deny'd NARCISSA) wifht them all a grave.
Glows my resentment into guilt? What guilt
Can equal violations of the dead?
The dead how facred! Sacred is the duft
Of this heav'n-labour'd form, erect, divine!
This heav'n affum'd majeftic robe of earth,
He deign'd to wear, who hung the vast expanfe
With azure bright, and cloath'd the fun in gold.
When ev'ry paffion sleeps that can offend ;
When ftrikes us ev'ry motive that can melt;
When man can wreak his rancour uncontroul'd,
That ftrongest curb on infult and ill-will;
Then, fpleen to duft? the duft of innocence ?
An angel's duft!This Lucifer tranfcends;
When he contended for the patriarch's bones,
'Twas not the ftrife of malice, but of pride;
The ftrife of pontiff pride, not pontiff gall.
Far lefs than This is fhocking in a race
Moft wretched, but from streams of mutual love ;
And uncreated, but for love divine;
And, but for love divine, this moment, loft,
By fate reforb'd, and funk in endless night.
Man hard of heart to man! Of horrid things
Moft horrid! 'Mid ftupendous, highly strange!
Yet oft his courtefies are fmoother wrongs;
Pride brandishes the favours He confers,
And contumelious his humanity:
What then his vengeance? Hear it not, ye ftars!
And thou, pale moon! turn paler at the found;
Man is to man the foreft, fureft ill.
A previous blaft foretels the rifing form;
Q'erwhelming turrets threaten ere they fall;
Volcano's bellow ere they difembogue;
Earth trembles ere her yawning jaws devour;
And fmoke betrays the wide-confuming fire:
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