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Mark those numbers, pale and horrid,
Who were once my sailors bold; Lo! each hangs his drooping forehead,
While his dismal tale is told.
With newly-gathered flowerets; chaplets gay
A popular vitality has been awarded to a ballad of Glover's, while his epics have sunk into oblivion :
1, by twenty sail attended,
Did this Spanish town affright; Nothing then its wealth defended
But my orders—not to fight ! Oh! that in this rolling ocean
I had cast them with disdain, And obeyed my heart's warm motion,
To have quelled the pride of Spain ! For resistance I could fear none;
But with twenty ships had done What thou, brave and happy Vernon,
Hast achieved with six alone.
Then the Bastimentos never
Had our foul dishonour seen, Nor the seas the sad receiver
of this gallant train had been. Thus, like thee, proud Spain dismaying,
And her galleons leading home, Though condemned for disobeying,
I had met a traitor's doom :
Admiral Hosier's Ghost. [Written on the taking of Carthagena from the Spaniards,
1739.) [The case of Hosier, which is here so pathetically represented, was briefly this :-In April 1726, that commander was sent with a strong fleet into the Spanish West Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports of that country; or, should they presume to come out, to seize and carry them into England. He accordingly arrived at the Bastimentos near Portobello; but being restricted by his orders from obeying the dictates of his courage, lay inactive on that station until he became the jest of the Spaniards. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and continued cruising in those seas until the far greater part of his men perished deplorably by the diseases of that unhealthy climate. This brave man, seeing his best officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy, is said to have died of a broken heart.]
As near Portobello lying
On the gentle-swelling flood,
Our triumphant navy rode;
From the Spaniards' late defeat,
Drank success to England's fleet:
Hideous yells and shrieks were heard ;
A sad troop of ghosts appeared ;
Which for winding-sheets they wore,
Frowning on that hostile shore.
When the shade of Hosier brave,
Rising from their watery grave:
Where the Burford reared her sail,
And in groans did Vernon hail.
I am Hosier's injured ghost;
At this place where I was lost :
You now triumph free from fears,
You will mix your joys with tears.
Ghastly o'er this hated wave,
These were English captains brave.
To have fallen, my country crying,
• He has played an English part,'
Of a grieved and broken heart.
Thy successful arms we hail ;
And let Hosier's wrongs prevail.
Think what thousands fell in vain,
Not in glorious battle slain.
From their oozy tombs below,
Here I feed my constant wo.
We recall our shameful doom,
Wander through the midnight gloom.
Shall we roam, deprived of rest,
You neglect my just request;
When your patriot friends you see,
And for England-shamed in me. The poets who follow are a secondary class, few of whom are now noted for more than one or two favourite pieces.
ROBERT DODSLEY (1703-1764) was an able and spirited publisher of his day, the friend of literature and of literary men. He projected the Annual Register, in which Burke was engaged, and he was the first to collect and republish the Old English Plays,' which form the foundation of our national drama. Dodsley wrote an excellent little moral treatise, The
Economy of Human Life, which was attributed to
With that first ring I married youth,
If she, by merit since disclosed,
Here, then, to-day (with faith as sure,
And why ?— They show me every hour
SIR WILLIAM JONES. " It is not Sir William Jones's poetry,' says Mr Southey, that can perpetuate his name.' This is true: it was as an oriental scholar and legislator, an enlightened lawyer and patriot, that he earned
his laurels. His profound learning and philological Dodgley's House and Shop in Pall Mall.
researches (he was master of twenty-eight languages)
were the wonder and admiration of his contempomatic pieces and poetical effusions. He was always raries. Sir William was born in London in 1746. attached to literature, and this, aided by his excellent conduct, raised him from the low condition of a livery servant, to be one of the most influential and respectable men of the times in which he lived.
[Song—The Parting Kiss.]
Drop a tear, and bid adieu :
Let me kiss that falling tear;
All my soul will still be here.
And every wish shall pant for you ;
Drop a tear, and bid adieu.
SAMUEL BISHOP (1731–1795) was an English clergyman, Master of Merchant Tailors' School, London, and author of some miscellaneous essays and poems. The best of his poetry was devoted to the praise of his wife; and few can read such lines
Sir William Jones. as the following without believing that Bishop was an amiable and happy man :
His father was an eminent mathematician, but died
when his son was only three years of age. The To Mrs Bishop, on the Anniversary of her Wedding- mother, who was well qualified for the duty by her
care of educating young Jones devolved upon his Day, which was also her Birth-Day, with a Ring.
virtues and extensive learning. When in his fifth 'Thee, Mary, with this ring I wed'
year, the imagination of the young scholar was So, fourteen years ago, I said.
caught by the sublime description of the angel in Behold another ring ! — For what?
the tenth chapter of the Apocalypse, and the im*To wed thee o'er again ? Why not?
pression was never effaced. In 1753 he was placed at Harrow school, where he continued nearly ten tegrity, disinterested benevolence, and unwearied years, and became an accomplished and critical clas- perseverance. In the intervals of leisure from sical scholar. He did not confine himself merely to his duties, he directed his attention to scientific the ancient authors usually studied, but added a objects, and established a society in Calcutta to proknowledge of the Arabic characters, and acquired mote inquiries by the ingenious, and to concentrate sufficient Hebrew to read the Psalms. In 1764 he the knowledge to be collected in Asia. In 1784, his was entered of University college, Oxford. Here health being affected by the climate and the closehis taste for oriental literature continued, and he ness of his application, he made a tour through engaged a native of Aleppo, whom he had discovered various parts of India, in the course of which he in London, to act as his preceptor. He also assidu- wrote The Enchanted Fruit, or Hindoo Wife, a poetiously perused the Greek poets and historians. In cal tale, and a Treatise on the Gods of Greece, Italy, his nineteenth year, Jones accepted an offer to be and India. He also studied the Sanscrit language, private tutor to Lord Althorp, afterwards Earl being unwilling to continue at the mercy of the Spencer. A fellowship at Oxford was also conferred Pundits, who dealt out Hindoo law as they pleased. upon him, and thus the scholar was relieved from Some translations from oriental authors, and origithe fear of want, and enabled to pursue his favou- nal poems and essays, he contributed to a periodical rite and unremitting studies. An opportunity of established at Calcutta, entitled The Asiatic Misdisplaying one branch of his acquirements was cellany. He meditated an epic poem on the Disafforded in 1768. The king of Denmark in that covery of England by Brutus, to which his knowledge year visited England, and brought with him an of Hindoo mythology suggested a new machinery, eastern manuscript, containing the life of Nadir the agency of Hindoo deities. To soften the violence Shah, which he wished translated into French. of the fiction into harmony with probability, the Jones executed this arduous task, being, as Lord poet conceived the future comprehension of Hindo
Teignmouth, his biographer, remarks, the only ori- stan within the circle of British dominion, as proental scholar in England adequate to the performance. spectively visible in the age of Brutus, to the guarHe still continued in the noble family of Spencer, dian angels of the Indian peninsula. This gorgeous and in 1769 accompanied his pupil to the continent. design he had matured so far as to write the arguNext year, feeling anxious to attain an independent ments of the intended books of his epic, but the station in life, he entered himself a student of the poem itself he did not live to attempt. In 1789 Sir Temple, and, applying himself with his characteristic William translated an ancient Indian drama, Saconardour to his new profession, he contemplated with tala, or the Fatal Ring, which exhibits a picture of pleasure the stately edifice of the laws of England, Hindoo manners in the century preceding the Chrisand mastered their most important principles and tian era. He engaged to compile a digest of Hindoo details. In 1774 he published Commentaries on and Mahometan laws; and in 1794 he translated Asiatic Poetry, but finding that jurisprudence was a the Ordinances of Menu or the Hindoo system of jealous mistress, and would not admit the eastern duties, religious and civil. His motive to this task, muses to participate in his attentions, he devoted like his inducement to the digest, was to aid the himself for some years exclusively to his legal benevolent intentions of our legislature in securing studies. A patriotic feeling was mingled with this to the natives, in a qualified degree, the administraresolution. *Had I lived at Rome or Athens,' he tion of justice by their own laws. Eager to accomsaid, I should have preferred the labours, studies, plish his digest, Sir William Jones remained in and dangers of their orators and illustrious citizens India after the delicate health of Lady Jones com- connected as they were with banishment and even pelled her departure in December 1793. He prodeath-to the groves of the poets or the gardens of posed to follow her in the ensuing season, but in April the philosophers. Here I adopt the same resolution. he was seized with inflammation of the liver, which The constitution of England is in no respect inferior terminated fatally, after an illness of one week, on the to that of Rome or Athens.' Jones now practised 27th of April 1794. Every honour was paid to his at the bar, and was appointed one of the Commis- remains, and the East India Company erected a sioners of Bankrupts. In 1778, he published a monument to his memory in St Paul's Cathedral. translation of the speeches of Isæus, in causes con- The attainments of Sir William Jones were so procerning the law of succession to property at Athens, found and various, that it is difficult to conceive how to which he added notes and a commentary. The he had comprised them in his short life of fortystirring events of the time in which he lived were eight years. As a linguist he has probably never not beheld without strong interest by this accom- been surpassed; for his knowledge extended to a plished scholar. He was decidedly opposed to the critical study of the literature and antiquities of American war and to the slave trade, then so pre- various nations. As a lawyer he had attained to a valent, and in 1781 he produced his noble Alcaic high rank in England, and he was the Justinian of Ode, animated by the purest spirit of patriotism, India. In general science there were few departand a high strain of poetical enthusiasm. He also ments of which he was ignorant: in chemistry, joined in representing the necessity that existed for mathematics, botany, and music, he was equally proa reform of the electoral system in England. But ficient. “He seems, says his biographer, to have though he made speeches and wrote pamphlets in acted on this maxim, that whatever had been atfavour of liberty and pure government, Jones was tained was attainable by him; and he was never obno party man, and was desirous, he said, of being served to overlook or to neglect any opportunity of transported to the distance of five thousand leagues adding to his accomplishments or to his knowledge. from all the fatal discord of contending politicians. When in India, his studies began with the dawn; His wishes were soon accomplished. He was ap- and in seasons of intermission from professional duty, pointed one of the judges of the supreme court at continued throughout the day; meditation retraced Fort William, in Bengal, and the honour of knight- and confirmed what reading had collected or inveshood was conferred upon him. He married the tigation discovered. By a regular application of daughter of Dr. Shipley, bishop of St Asaph ; and time to particular occupations, he pursued various in April 1783, in his thirty-seventh year, he em-objects without confusion; and in undertakings barked for India, never to return. Sir William which depended on his individual perseverance, he Jones entered upon his judicial functions with all was never deterred by difficulties from proceeding to the advantages of a high reputation, unsullied in- a successful termination, With respect to the
division of his time, Sir William Jones had written in India, on a small piece of paper, the following lines:
Sir Edward Coke :
Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven.* The poems of Sir William Jones have been collected and printed in two small volumes. An early collection was published by himself, dedicated to the Countess Spencer, in 1772. They consist of a few original pieces in English and Latin, and translations from Petrarch and Pindar; paraphrases of Turkish and Chinese odes, hymns on subjects of Hindoo mythology, Indian Tales, and a few songs from the Persian. Of these the beautiful lyric from Hafiz is the most valuable. The taste of Sir William Jones was early turned towards eastern poetry, in which he was captivated with new images, expressions, and allegories, but there is a want of chasteness and simplicity in most of these productions. The name of their illustrious author 'reflects credit,' as Campbell remarks, on poetical biography, but his secondary fame as a composer shows that the palm of poetry is not likely to be won, even by great genius, without exclusive devotion to the pursuit.'
A Persian Song of Hafiz. Sweet maid, if thou would'st charm my sight, And bid these arms thy neck enfold; That rosy cheek, that lily hand, Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow, And bid thy pensive heart be glad, Whate'er the frowning zealots say: Tell them, their Eden cannot show A stream so clear as Rocnabad, A bower so sweet as Mosellay. 0! when these fair perfidious maids, Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms display, Each glance my tender breast invades, And robs my wounded soul of rest, As Tartars seize their destined prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow : Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre to those charms impart? Can cheeks, where living roses blow, Where nature spreads her richest dyes, Require the borrowed gloss of art ? Speak not of fate: ah! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom : 'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom. Beauty has such resistless power, That even the chaste Egyptian dame Sighed for the blooming Hebrew boy: For her how fatal was the hour, When to the banks of Nilus came A youth so lovely and so coy! But ah! sweet maid, my counsel hear (Youth should attend when those advise Whom long experience renders sage): While music charms the ravished ear; While sparkling cups delight our eyes, Be gay, and scorn the frowns of age. What cruel answer have I heard ? And yet, by Heaven, I love thee still : Can aught be cruel from thy lip? Yet say, how fell that bitter word From lips which streams of sweetness fill, Which nought but drops of honey sip? Go boldly forth, my simple lay, Whose accents flow with artless ease, Like orient pearls at random strung: Thy notes are sweet, the damsels say; But oh! far sweeter, if they please The nymph for whom these notes are sung !
An Ode, in Imitation of Alcæus.
Thick wall or moated gate ;
Not bays and broad-armed ports,
Not starred and spangled courts,
No: men, high-minded men,
In forest, brake, or den,
Men who their duties know,
Prevent the long-aimed blow,
These constitute a state,
O'er thrones and globes elate
Smit by her sacred frown,
And e'en the all-dazzling Crown
Such was this heaven-loved isle, Than Lesbos fairer, and the Cretan shore !
No more shall Freedom smile? Shall Britons languish, and be men no more?
Since all must life resign, Those sweet rewards, which decorate the brave,
'Tis folly to decline, And steal inglorious to the silent grave.
The Concluding Sentence of Berkeley's Siris Imitated.
* As respects sloep, the example of Sir Walter Scott may be added to that of Sir William Jones, for the great novelist has stated that he required seven hours of total unconsciousness to fit him for the duties of the day.
* The following is the last sentence of the Siris: - le that would make a real progress in knowledge must dedicate his age as well as youth, the latter growth as well as the first fruits, at the altar of Truth.'
Tetrastic From the Persian. On parent knees, a naked new-born child, Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled ; So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep, Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep.
FRANCIS FAWKES (1721-1777) translated Anacreon, Sappho, Bion, and other classic poets, and wrote some pleasing original verses. He was a clergyman, and died vicar of Hayes, in Kent. Fawkes enjoyed the friendship of Johnson and Warton ; but, however classic in his tastes and studies, he seems, like Oldys, to have relished a cup of English ale. The following song is still, and will always be, a favourite :
The Brown Jug. Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale, (In which I will drink to sweet Nan of the vale) Was once Toby Fillpot, a thirsty old soul, As e'er drank a bottle, or fathomed a bowl; In bousing about 'twas his praise to excel, And among jolly topers he bore off the bell. It chanced as in dog-days he sat at his ease, In his flower-woven arbour, as gay as you please, With a friend and a pipe puffing sorrows away, And with honest old stingo was soaking his clay, His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut, And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt. His body when long in the ground it had lain, And time into clay had resolved it again, A potter found out in its covert so snug, And with part of fat Toby he formed this brown jug; Now sacred to friendship, and mirth, and mild ale, So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the vale ! Johnson acknowledged that ‘Frank Fawkes had done the Odes of Anacreon very finely.'
Some blast had struck the cheerful scene;
Full oft, unknowing why they did,
A courteous neighbour at the door,
Yet neighbours were not quite the thing-
Agreed. A rich old uncle dies,
Why should we paint, in tedious song,
When Night her murky pinions spread,
WILLIAM WHITEHEAD (1715-1785) succeeded to the office of poet-laureate, after it had been refused by Gray. He was the son of a baker in Cambridge, and distinguished himself at Winchester school, on leaving which he obtained a scholarship at Clare-hall, in the university of his native town. He was afterwards tutor to the son of the Earl of Jersey. Whitehead had a taste for the drama, and wrote The Roman Father, and Creusa, two indifferent plays. After he had received his appointment as laureate, he was attacked by Churchill, and a host of inferior satirists, but he wisely made no reply. In the family of Lord Jersey he enjoyed comfort and happiness, till death, at seventy, put a period to his inoffensive life.
Variety. [This easy and playful poem opens with the description of a rural pair of easy fortune, who live much apart from society.]
Two smiling springs had waked the flowers