AH hapless Bird! has then untimely Death
Silenc'd thy Throat, and stopp'd thy tuneful Breath? No more thy Plumes their faded Verdure boast, Dim are thy little Eyes, and all their Luftre loft! No longer must thy chearful Notes delight Fair Lesbia's Ear; thy beauteous Form, her Sight; No more will she each Morn, with pleasing Care, Fresh Food for Thee, and fragrant Greens prepare, Whilft flutt'ring Wings and brisker Chirps confefs Thy rifing Joy, and grateful Thanks exprefs. Proud to be tended by a Hand so fair, Well-pleas'd Thou Lofs of Liberty cou'd'ft bear, Nor envy'd'ft other Birds, that range in open Air, Thee, chief Musician of her feather'd Quire, Fair Lesbia held, Thee most she did admire: Oft' wou'd fhe praise thy fweet harmonious Lay, And liften to thy Song the live-long Day. Moan all ye Birds of Lesbia's Confort, moan In doleful Notes your warbling Partner gone: Let Wreaths of Night-fhade and of baleful Yeugh Each Cage adoru, or Sprigs of Cypress strew, This Theme let every tender Poet chuse; Let Lesbia's Lofs employ each gentle Mufe; Henceforth let None Corinna's Parrot name, But Lesbia's Green-Bird fill the Trump of Fame
Sent in a Letter from Portfmouth, in October, 1711.
WHEN ftormy Winds in Northern Caverns fleep,
Nor with tempeftuous Blasts difturb the Deep,
A fmooth unwrinkled Plain accosts the Eye,
Which feems to meet and reach the bending Sky;
One Even, Uniform, Unvari'd Scene
On ev'ry Side extends its wat'ry Green,
A fpacious Field, which leaves the Sight behind
By Nature to a nearer Bound confin'd.
But Here no Rocks the foaming Billows lave;
No craggy Cliffs impend the breaking Wave;
The winding Shore a level Profpect yields
Of verdant Meadows and of fruitful Fields.
When first a Ship, that Monster of the Flood,
(By fimple Indians thought fome thund'ring God)
Within the narrow Verge of Sight appears,
Her tall ftrait Maft above the Sea the rears,
Whilft yet her turgid Hull the Waters hide
And convex Surface of the fwelling Tide.
The whole Machine a nearer Distance fhows,
And all the Parts, which her fair Frame compofe;
Proudly the rides in Triumph o'er the Main,
Whofe briny Waves her ftately Load sustain ;
Her gaudy Streamers flow with wanton Gales,
And profp'rous Winds diftend her fpreading Sails:
With gladden'd Heart the chearful Sailor (pies.
The smiling Afpect of the Seas and Skies;
No Rocks nor Shelves the skilful Pilot fears,
But fitting at the Helm fecurely fteers.
When, if a sudden Storm the Ocean sweep
With furious Blaft, and lash the frothy Deep,
By Tempefts vext the raging Billows roar,
And dash their foamy Heads against the Shore;
Night all around her fable. Wings extends,
Save where more horrid Day the Lightning lends:
Here rolling Waves in wat'ry Mountains rife,
And there a dreadful gaping Valley lies.
The trembling Sailor now of Life defpairs,
And flies to his lait Refuge, Vows and Pray'rs,
On bended knees of angry Heav'n implores
To land him fafely on the Neighb'ring Shores;
In rattling Thunder, Heav'n his Pray'r returns,
And with red Lightning all the Welkin burns;
Each glaring Flafh the Wretch with Horror views,
And with repeated Cries for Mercy fues.
From Wave to Wave the bandy'd Veffel's toft;
Torn are her Sails, and all her Rigging loft:
Now 'mongst the starry Heights fhe mounting rides,
Down to the loweft Deeps fhe now fubfides.
In vain the Men their Strength and Skill employ,
The boift'rous Winds their weak Attempts defy;
Unguided, by the driving Storm at laft
She on fome Rock or Bank of Sand is caft :
Th'impetuous Shock her Hull in Pieces breaks,
And fills her hollow Womb with doleful Shrieks;
Now Dread and Horror of impending Fate
Do blackeft Thoug' ts in ev'ry Breaft create;
Some from the Deck for fake the bulging Ship,
And 'midit the raging. Sea for Safety leap.
A few, a very few of thefe, the Beach,
Drove by the Waves on floating Timbers, reach;
The reft, by the contending Billows toft,
At length are in the fwelling Ocean loft.
Bold was his Soul who made the first Effay
Upon the Main, and shew'd Mankind the Way
To pafs the Limits of their native Shore,
To vifit diftant Lands, and unknown Worlds explore:
By Him we our domeftic Poverty
Were taught by Foreign Traffick to fupply;
To ev'ry Part of the whole Globe we roam,
And bring the Riches of each Climate home;
With Northern Furrs we're clad and Eastern Gold,
Yet know nor India's Heat, nor Russia's Cold;
We taste the Wines, that fultry Soils produce,
Free from the scorching Beams, which raife the noble Juice;
Knowledge and Plenty fetch from ev'ry Shore,
With Arts our Minds, with Wealth our Coffers ftore.
The British Race, 'till by the Romans led
They first the flutt'ring Canvas learn'd to spread,
Savage and wild, by Commerce unrefin'd,
Differ'd but little from the brutal Kind;
Uncultivated, ignorant and rude,
A painted Herd, they rang'd the Plains and Wood,
And prey'd upon their Fellow Brutes for Food:
With Terror often from the neighb'ring Shore
They view'd the ftormy Waves, and heard them roar,
But never durft a Thought to entertain,
Of vent'ring on the Surface of the Main:
Beyond the Sea they fought no Lands unknown,
Nor dreamt of other Climes befides their own,
HEard'ft thou the Song which youthful Damon play'd
On Yefter-Morn, beneath yon' Poplar Shade?
I did, and ftill methinks his Voice I hear
With pleafing Accent founding in mine Ear;
In what foft Notes, in what a moving Strain,
Sung he Philefia's Charms, and coy Difdain!
O cruel Nymph! O hard obdurate Breast!
That cou'd the Youth's enchanting Lays refift.
Thou'rt Fair, indeed, as the pure Scythian Snow,
But then as cold and unrelenting too.
The fympathizing Swains stood lift'ning round,
And catch'd with greedy Ears each falling Sound: -
All, but the beauteous Maid, his Verfe attend,
Pity his Paffion, and his Song commend.
Thus, when the Nightingale with warbling Throat
Trills in the fhady Bow'rs her mournful Note,
Each meaner Voice thro' the whole Grove is still,
And owns fweet Philomel's fuperior Skill,
Lefs pleas'd I hear the rustling Vernal Breeze Fly whifp'ring thro' the Branches of the Trees; Lefs pleas'd I hear yon' murm'ring chryftal Spring, Than to his Vocal Pipe young Damon fing,
|