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rican prisoners, confined in this country, 'must stamp a lesson on the minds of those unfortunate captives, and our American brethren in general, that they should not withdraw all national affection from a country, the bulk of whose inhabitants have not withdrawn all national affection from them."

f ART. XV. Poems and Miscellaneous Pieces, with a free Translation

the Oedipus Tyrannus of Sophocles. By the Rev. Thomas Maurice A. B. of University College, Oxford. 40. 10 s. 6 d. Dodsley 1779. POST of the poems contained in this volume have already

appeared in print, and have been noticed in our Review. We observed in them a genuine poetical spirit, and melodious versification, with a mixture of inequality and incorrectness. We remember to have remarked, on one occasion, that as the Author was of inexperienced age, we might hope for better things; and, accordingly, several of the original pieces in this collection demonstrate that our hopes were not without foundation. The Great have been too frequently addressed, even by good poets, in strains of servile adulation. Mr. Maurice's verses to the Marquis of Blandford, after having seen Blenheim-house, afford a manly, decent compliment.

After a natural introduction of the great Marlborough's triumphs, the poet thus proceeds :

• Here BLANDFORD, oft, as to thy wond'ring eyes
His deathless feats in bright fucceffion rile,
Congenial transports in thy bolom roll,
And half his spirit fires thy infant soul.
But far from thee be war's tumultuous rage,
Nor let ambition taint thy tender age;
Let Spenser's bright example teach thy mind
Sublimer joys, and transports more refin'd:
Like him, thy hand to pining want extend,

Protect the orphan, and the wretch befriend.' The situation of Blenheim affording occasion, he mentions the story of Henry II. and Rolamond; which not inelegantly finishes the piece :

But Mort the bliss unholy joys afford,
His raging consort seeks her absent lord ;
And Rosamond, from love and Heory torn,
Retires to weep in yonder glooms forlorn.
Oh never more may guilty transports Alain
These hallow'd haunts, nor jealous fires profane;
But ev'ry fucure lord, like Spenser, prove

The sweets of social life, and spotless love ! Hinda, an Eastern elegy, is not, as the Author informs us, à particular imitation of any Asiatic poet, but was written when

See Hagley, a descriptive poem, Monthly Review, vol. Ivi. p. 156,

his

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his imagination had been animated with the perufal of those beautiful specimens of Eastern poetry given to the world by Mr. Jones and Mr. Richardson. This elegy is the complaint of an Arabian lover, for the loss of his deceased bride. The Oriental character is, in general, well sustained, most of the images are local, and the language is marked by dignity and case;

• Led by the star of evening's guiding fires,
That sh ne serene on Aden's lofty spires,
Young Agib trod the folitary plain,
Where groves of spikenard greet his sense in vain :
In wealth o'er all the neighbouring swains supreme,
For manly beauty every virgin's theme;
But no repose his anxious bosom found,
Where forrow cherish'd an eternal wound,
The frequent figh, wan look, and frantic start,
Spoke the despair that prey'd upon his heart.
The haunts of men no more his steps invite,
Nor India's treasures give his faul delight.
In fields and deep'ning Mades he fought relief,

And thus discharg'd the torrent of his grief.'
After an apostrophe to happier Nymphs and Swains,' the
Soliloquist thus discloses the cause of his grief :

" HINDA, once fairelt of the virgin train,
• Who haunt the forest, or who range the plain,
“ Sleeps were the boughs of yon black cypress wave,
“! And I am left to languish at her grave!

" To that dear spot, when day's declining beam
“ Darts from yon shining towers a farewell gleam,
“ Constant as eve, my sorrows I renew,
“ And mix my tears with the descending dew,
“ The last sad debe to buried beauty pay,

“ Kiss the cold shrine, and clasp the mould'ring clay." Reflecting on past pleasures, he then episodically introduces 3 kind of epithalamium :

“ Prepare, I cried, prepare the puptial feast,

Bring all the treasures of the riled East :
“ The choicest gifts of ev'ry clime explore,
“ Let Aden + yield her tributary store;
“ Let Saba all her beds of spice unfold,
And Samarcand send gems, and India gold,
“ To deck a banquet worthy of the bride,
" Where mirth shall be the guest

, and love preside.”' Then expatiating on his own possessions, and describing the person of his beloved, his digression concludes with the following passage, in which the luxuriant pictures of Eastern poetry are happily imitated;

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+ ' Aden and Saba are both cities of Arabia Felix, celebrated for the gardens and spicy woods with wþich they are surrounded.?

& A bower

“ A bower I have, where branching almonds spread, se Where all the seasons all their bounties shed; " The gales of life amidft the branches play, “ And music burts from ev'ry vocal spray, “ Its verdant foot a stream of amber laves, “ And o'er it Love his guardian banner waves : “ There hall our days, our nights in pleasure glide, “ Friendship shall live, when pallion's joys fublide; Increasing years improve our mutual truth,

And age give fan&tion to the choice of youth." His complaint is thus beautifully resumed :

« Thus fondly I of fancied raptures sung,
“ And with my song the gladden'd valley rung.
" But fate, with jealous eye, beheld our joy,
« Smil'd to deceive, and flatter'd to destroy ;
ço Swift as the Mades of night the vision filed,
“ Grief was the guest, and death the banquet Spread.
" A burning fever on her virals prey'd,
“ Defied Love's efforts, baffled med'cine's aid,
ss And from these widow'd arms a treasure tore,

“ Beyond the price of empires to restore.” There appears to be something exceptionable in the termi. nation of this little poem. That an act of suicide should be produced by such a permanent, mellowed grief as the general tenor of the poem points out, is, we think, improbable. We have also a doubt whether the practice is consistent with Arabian manners. Considered in a moral light, perhaps even fictitious examples of suicide, in general, are not favourable to virtue. They may tend to familiarize the human mind to an act which the fevere pressure of misfortune too often induces men to commit.

The Prospect of Life, an ode, paints the dark side of things strongly, and justly. Perhaps it might have been improved by contraction, and a different arrangement. We thould, also, have approved it more, had it been written in regular stanzas. Cowley's mis-titled Pindaric, in which he was followed by every rhimer, is now, in general, properly discarded, and we are sorry whenever we fee attempts made to revive the use of it, by any who merit the name of poet.

The following picture of some of the miseries of life, is well drawn, and highly coloured :

• Ah! why the catalogue of ills prolong,
And swell with complicated woes the song ?
Recount those darker moments of despair,

When all the passions, fierce and unconfin'd,

Ruh with the tempest's fury on the mind,
And reason, headlong, from her ftation bear ::
When poverty to every other pang

Adds her keen edge-presents an infant train,

Who with imploring eyes around thee hang, 3 And raise their suppliant plaints for bread in vain :

Stern

Stern fate, perhaps, determin'd to destroy

All that was precioos, all thoa wilh'd to save,
And crush at once the source of ev'ry joy-
Blasts the young confort blooming in thy arms,
Nips in the bud a daughter's op'ning charms,

Or gives thy bosom friend to an untimely grave.' The translation of the Oedipus Tyrannus being profefredly a FREE one, its fidelity to the original does not come properly before us. We apprehend, however, that it will afford the English reader a pretty competent idea of the work of Sophocles. Considered merely as a poem, it has much merit, the language not being deficient either in strength or melody; as will appear from the following quotations :

As a specimen of the Lyric parts of this tragedy, we shall give the second strophe and antistrophe of the chorus, Ac I.

• The pride of Thebes is levellid with the ground,

The fruits of earth lie blasted on the plain :
Her palaces with shrieks of death resound,

And her streets groan beneath the heaps of Nain.
So wide hath spread the monster's fiery rage,
Beauty's flush'd cheek with fatal crimson burns ;

From her wild eye perpicious lightning glares :
Ev'n virtue's hallow'd plaint the tyrant spurns ;

The fereaming infant from the bosom tears,

And Itrikes to earth the hoary scalp of age.
• The mosher with convulfive tortures torn,

Faints 'midit her pains, and languishes in death.
Her hapless infant, curft as soon as born,

Imbibes pollution with his earliest breath,
But hark! in louder bursts the pæans break;
The Moses with wilder acclamations ring,

Mad with the flames that revel through their blood.
Increasing throngs around our altars cling,
And fwift as rapid fire, or torrent flood,

By myriads roth to Lethe's gloomy lake.'
Of the colloquial parts, with quick returns of dialogue, our
Readers will judge from the following interesting scene :
Oedipus, Delay not, but inform me, didit thou give
An infant to this man !

Shepherd. I did, and oh!
Death had thai moment been my happiest boon.
Oed. This day chou dieft, unless I know the whole
Of this dark scene,

Shep. Ah spare the dire recital:
'Tis death to tell thee.

Oed. Dost thou trifle with me?
Sbep. Did I not say I gave the child ?

Old. Go on ;
Whence came he? Was he thine by birth, or who
Consign'd him to thy charge ?

Sbep.

Shep. He was not mine ;
I had receiv'd him from another hand,
Ord. What other? Speak his name, and where he dwells.
Shep. By all the pow'rs above, enquire no more :
I do conjure thee.

Oed. If I ask again,
Wretch, chou Mhalt die.

Shep. In yonder palace born
Oed. Sprung from a flave, or was the king his fire ?
Shep. Oh misery to declare-

Oed. Oh! Death to hear!
Yet speak

Shep. He was suppos'd the king's own fon.
But well Jocasta knows the gloomy truth;
She can instruct thee belt.

Oed. Didit thou from her
Receive the child?

Shep. 'Twere fruitless to deny
What fate itself reveals.

Oed. What was her purpose ?
Shep: That I should kill it.

Oed. What, destroy the child ?
Bloody, inhuman parent!

Sbep. Dire affright,
From dreadful oracles, compellid the queen
To this unnatural deed.

Oed. How, oracles ?
What did they threaten?

Sbep. That this son should slay
Those who begat him.

Oed. But if such her fears,
Why did thou give it to this shepherd's care?
Sbep. Compassion for the infant wrong my soul;

I hop'd be would have borne bis charge away,
Far, far from Thebes, and these his native roofs :
Faral mistake! that life to him was death,
Preserv'd to long, unutterable, woes-
For ob ! if chou be't be, thou art indeed

The most ill-fared, most accurft of men.
Oed. 'Tis done ; the tenfold mystery bursts to light;

I am that most ill-fated, most accurft.
Thou fun, farewell ; why Smile thy beams on me,
Whom murder blackens, and whom inceft ftains ?
Inceft and murder of the deepest hue :
A father Nain, a mother's bed defil'd !
Come night, come horror, shield me from his

rays ;
Plunge me in chick impenetrable glooms,

Black as my crimes, and boundless as my guilt. From the longer speeches, we shall extract part of the pathetic address of Oedipus to his daughters :

• Come near, my daughters ; shudder not to touch Your father, and your brother ; view the hands,

Yet

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