he did not love clean linen ; and I have no passion for it.' During his confinement, it is said, writing materials were denied him, and Smart used to indent his poetical thoughts with a key on the wainscot of his walls. A religious poem, the Song to David, written at this time in his saner intervals, possesses passages of considerable power and sublimity, and must be considered as one of the greatest curiosities of our literature. What the unfortunate poet did not write down (and the whole could not possibly have been committed to the walls of his apartment) must have been composed and retained from memory alone. Smart was afterwards released from his confinement; but his ill fortune (following, we suppose, his intemperate habits) again pursued him. He was committed to the King's Bench prison for debt, and died there, after a short illness, in 1770. Song to David. To praise the King of kings : Clear as a clarion rings : Of gratitude in throngs; With dances and with songs: Which thou mayst now receive ; To this the wreath I weave. Strong, constant, pleasant, wise! The peril and the prize! Which is the people's voice; The man of God's own choice. Whom God's just laws abhor; The weapons of the war. (The seraph in his soul :) And foremost to condole. His aspect and his heart : And Shimei's blunted dart. To fasting and to fear- To play the sword and spear. To God the eternal theme; O'er meaner strains supreme. The Sabbath-day he blest; 'Twas then his thoughts self-conquest pruned, And heavenly melancholy tuned, To bless and bear the rest. How sweetly Kidron purled- When God had calmed the world. In sempiternal night ; To his undaunted might. To Jonathan his friend His endless fame attend. Priest, champion, sage, and boy ; Majestic was his joy. Of all the most reviled ; And counsel to his child. For all the pangs that rage; The Abishag of his age. On which all strength depends ; Commences, reigns, and ends. Or with their citterns wait; The cherub and her mate. For infinite applause The world—the clustering spheres he made, Dale, champaign, grove, and hill; And wisdom hides her skill. Choice gums and precious balm; Enrich the thankful psalm. That live in peace, or prey; The raven, swan, and jay. Devouring man to shun: And love the glancing sun. Nor yet the shades arouse; The kids exult and browse. Their darts of lustre sheath; Among the mines beneath. And did for audience call; The frantic throes of Saul. And sense and soul detained ; Or in delight refrained. As blush to blush she stood; And plays his hymns so good.' His wisdom drew the plan; From Christ enthroned to man. Of light and blaze of day; And heaven itself its stay. Gamma supports the glorious arch On which angelic legions march, And is with sapphires paved ; The crimson veil, are waved. Of never-wasting bloom ; grace, The illustrious lights that are; Held rule with every star. In thankful safety lurks ; Of God's recorded works. And man of all the chief; For ocular belief. For gratitude and thought; And closed the infernal draught. And infinite degree; The lion and the bee! By pleasures unenticed; And saw the God in Christ. And, smitten to the heart, Replied, O Lord, Thou Art. All flesh thy bounties share: Are meekness, peace, and prayer. God armed the snail and wilk; For her that yields thee milk. says thou shalt not die : “Not as I will, but as thou wilt,' Prayed He, whose conscience knew no guilt ; With whose blessed pattern vie. Use all thy passions !-love is thine, Thine hope's eternal fort, And rapture to transport. Till not with ass and bull: Nor work thy flax with wool. Resort with those that weep: And render as you reap. To make thy welcome last; Look upwards to the past. And for thy neighbour feel ; By knowledge and by zeal. The genuine word repeat ! That keeps the fool's conceit. And good to goodness add : The Lord is great and glad. And David in the midst; O blessed bridegroom, bidst. Adjust, attract, and fill : By the descending rill. And fruit-trees pledge their gems; And Ivis, with her gorgeous vest, Builds for her eggs her cunning nest, And bell-flowers bow their stems. For Adoration springs : The scalëd infant clings. And lizards feed the moss ; No longer roar and toss. The weaned adventurer sports ; Where to the palm the jasınine cleaves, For Adoration 'mong the leaves The gale his peace reports. The opposing spirits tilt ; For Adoration gilt. The western pilgrim's staff ; Embower the social laugh. Now labour his reward receives, For Adoration counts his sheaves To peace, her bounteous prince ; The nect'rine his strong tint imbibes, And apples of ten thousand tribes, And quick peculiar quince. The wealthy crops of whitening rice 'Mongst thyine woods and groves of spice, For Adoration grow; Where wild carnations blow Upon the snow-clad earth : And bless the sight from dearth. With fear eludes offence : Where frosts the wave condense. The squirrel hoards his nuts : For Adoration shuts. And he, who kneels and chants, Which for translation pants. The soft flute's ivory touch ; The damsel’s greedy clutch. For Adoration, in the skies, The Lord's philosopher espies The dog, the ram, and rose; The planets ring, Orion's sword; Nor is his greatness less adored In the vile worm that glows. Ranked arms, and crested heads; Beauteous the garden's umbrage mild, Walk, water, meditated wild, And all the bloomy beds. For Adoration, on the strings The captive ear to soothe- Or bids the sea be smooth ! And from the civet's fur: Than galbanum or myrrh. God sends to tempt the taste ; Commands desire be chaste. Beauteous the moon full on the lawn ; And beauteous when the veil's withdrawn, The virgin to her spouse : Beauteous the temple, decked and filled, When to the heaven of heavens they build Their heart-directed vows. Beauteous, yea beauteous more than these, The Shepherd King upon his knees, For his momentous trust; With wish of infinite conceit, For man, beast, mute, the small and great, And prostrate dust to dust. Precious the bounteous widow's mite ; And precious, for extreme delight, The largess from the churl: Precious the ruby's blushing blaze, And alba's blest imperial rays, And pure cerulean pearl. Precious the penitential tear; And precious is the sigh sincere ; Acceptable to God : And precious are the winning flowers, In gladsome Israel's feast of bowers, Bound on the hallowed sod. For Adoration, all the paths Of purity refresh ; Who triumphs o'er the flesh. And on his olives perch : Within his Saviour's Church. Sweet Hermon's fragrant air: That watch for early prayer. Sweet when the lost arrive: Sweet the musician's ardour beats, While his vague mind's in quest of sweets, The choicest flowers to hive. Sweeter, in all the strains of love, The language of thy turtle-dove, Paired to thy swelling chord ; Respired unto the Lord. Which makes at once his game : Shoots xiphias to his aim. His chest against the foes : Emerges as he goes. And far beneath the tide : Where knock is open wide. More precious that diviner part Great, beautiful, and new : Proof-answering true to true. Glorious the comet's train : Glorious the trumpet and alarm; Glorious the Almighty's stretched-out arm ; Glorious the enraptured main: Glorious the northern lights astream ; Glorious the song, when God's the theme; Glorious the thunder's roar: Glorious hosannah from the den; Glorious the catholic amen ; Glorious the martyr's gore: By meekness called thy Son ; Determined, Dared, and Done. RICHARD GLOVER. RICHARD GLOVER (1712–1785), a London merchant, who sat several years in parliament as member for Weymouth, was distinguished in private life for his spirit and independence. He published two elaborate poems in blank verse, Leonidas and The Athenais, the former bearing reference to the memorable defence of Thermopylæ, and the latter continuing the war between the Greeks and Persians. The length of these poems, their want of sustained interest, and lesser peculiarities not suited to the existing poetical taste, render them next to unknown in the present day. Yet there is smootliness and even vigour, a calm moral dignity and patriotic elevation in ‘Leonidas,' which In the 'Athenais' we have a continuation of the might even yet find admirers. Thomson is said same classic story and landscape. The following is to have exclaimed, when he heard of the work of an exquisite description of a night scene :Glover, 'He write an epic poem, who never saw a Silver Phoebe spreads mountain !" Yet Thomson himself, familiar as he A light, reposing on the quiet lake, was in his youth with mountain scenery, was tame Save where the snowy rival of her hue, and commonplace when he ventured on classic or The gliding swan, behind him leaves a trail epic subjects. The following passage is lofty and In luminous vibration. Lo! an isle energetic: Swells on the surface. Marble structures there New gloss of beauty borrow from the moon To deck the shore. Now silence gently yields To measured strokes of oars. The orange groves, Remains unshaken. Rising, he displays In rich profusion round the fertile verge, His godlike presence. Dignity and grace Impart to fanning breezes fresh perfumes Adorn his frame, and manly beauty, joined Exhaustless, visiting the scene with sweets, With strength Herculean. On his aspect shines Which soften even Briareus; but the son Sublimest virtue and desire of fame, Of Gobryas, heavy with devouring care, Where justice gives the laurel ; in his eye Uncharmed, unheeding sits. The inextinguishable spark, which fires The scene presented by the shores of Salamis on The souls of patriots; while his brow supports the morning of the battle is thus strikingly depicted. Undaunted valour, and contempt of death. The poet gives no burst of enthusiasm to kindle up Serene he rose, and thus addressed the throng: his page, and his versification retains most of its Why this astonishment on every face, usual hardness and want of flow and cadence ; yet Ye men of Sparta? Does the name of death the assemblage described is so vast and magnificent, Create this fear and wonder? O my friends! and his enumeration is so varied, that the picture Why do we labour through the arduous paths carries with it a host of spirit-stirring associations:Which lead to virtue? Fruitless were the toil. Above the reach of human feet were placed [The Armies at Salamis.] The distant summit, if the fear of death O sun ! thou o'er Athenian towers, Could intercept our passage. But in vain The citadel and fanes in ruin huge, His blackest frowns and terrors he assumes Dost, rising now, illuminate a scene To shake the firmness of the mind which knows More new, more wondrous to thy piercing eye That, wanting virtue, life is pain and wo; Than ever time disclosed. Phaleron's wave That, wanting liberty, even virtue mourns, Presents three thousand barks in pendants rich; And looks around for happiness in vain. Spectators, clustering like Hymettian bees, Then speak, 0 Sparta! and demand my life; Hang on the burdened shrouds, the bending yards, My heart, exulting, answers to thy call, The reeling masts ; the whole Cecropian strand, And smiles on glorious fate. To live with fame Far as Eleusis, seat of mystic rites, The gods allow to many; but to die Is thronged with millions, male and female race, With equal lustre is a blessing Heaven Of Asia and of Libya, ranked on foot, On horses, camels, cars. Ægalcos tall, Half down his long declivity, where spreads A mossy level, on a throne of gold, Joy, wrapt awhile in admiration, paused, Displays the king, environed by his court, Suspending praise; nor praise at last resounds In oriental pomp; the hill behind In high acclaim to rend the arch of heaven; By warriors covered, like some trophy huge, A reverential murmur breathes applause. Ascends in varied arms and banners clad; The nature of the poem affords scope for interesting Below the monarch’s feet the immortal guard, situations and descriptions of natural objects in a Line under line, erect their gaudy spears ; romantic country, which Glover occasionally avails The arrangement, shelving downward to the beach, himself of with good effect. There is great beauty Is edged by chosen horse. With blazing steel and classic elegance in this sketch of the fountain at Of Attic arms encircled, from the deep the dwelling of Oileus : Psyttalia lifts her surface to the sight, Like Ariadne's heaven-bespangling crown, Beside the public way an oval fount A wreath of stars; beyond, in dread array, Of marble sparkled with a silver spray The Grecian fleet, four hundred galleys, fill Of falling rills, collected from above. The Salaminian Straits; barbarian prows In two divisions point to either mouth Unwieldy bulks; the gently-swelling soil Of length terrific. All the tender sex, Megistias reads; the rest in silence hear: Ranked by Timothea, from a green ascent, 'Yon marble fountain, by Oileus placed, Look down in beauteous order on their sires, To thirsty lips in living water flows; Their husbands, lovers, brothers, sons, prepared For weary steps he framed this cool retreat; To mount the rolling deck. The younger dames A grateful offering here to rural peace, In bridal robes are clad; the matrons sage, His dinted shield, his helmet he resigned. In solemn raiment, worn on sacred days; O passenger! if born to noble deeds, But white in vesture, like their maiden breasts, Thou would'et obtain perpetual grace from Jove, Where Zephyr plays, uplifting with his breath Devote thy vigour to heroic toils, The loosely-waving folds, a chosen line And thy decline to hospitable cares. Of Attic graces in the front is placed ; Rest here; then seek Oileus in his vale.' From each fair head the tresses fall, entwined 50 |