The Triumphs Of Temper : Canto V. Poem by William Hayley

Why art thou fled, O bless'd poetic time!
When Fancy wrought the miracles of rhyme;
When, darting from her star-encircled throne,
Her poet's eye commanded worlds unknown;
When, by her fiat made a mimic god,
He saw existence waiting on his nod,
And, at his pleasure, into being brought
New shadowy hosts - the vassals of his thought,
In Joy's gay garb, in Terror's dread array,
Darker than night, and brighter than the day:
Who at his bidding, through the wilds of air,
Raised willing mortals far from earthly care,
And led them wondering through his wide domain,
Beyond the bounds of Nature's narrow reign;
While their rapt spirits, in the various flight,
Shook with successive thrills of new delight?
Return, sweet season, graced with fiction's flowers,
Let not cold system cramp thy genial powers!
Shall mild Morality, in garb uncouth,
The housewife garb of plain and homely Truth,
Robb'd by stern Method of her rosy crown,
Chill her faint votaries by a wintry frown?
No; thou sweet friend of man! as suits thee best,
Shine forth in Fable's rich embroider'd vest!
Oh! make my verse thy vehicle, thy arms,
To spread o'er social life thy potent charms!
And thou, Sophrosyne, mysterious sprite;
If haply I may trace thy steps aright,
Roving through paths untrod by mortal feet,
To paint for human eyes thy heavenly seat,
Shed on my soul some portion of that power,
Which saved Serena in the trying hour,
To bear those trials, which, however hard,
As bards all tell us, may befall the bard;
The fop's pert jest, the critic's frown severe,
Learning's proud cant, with Envy's artful sneer.
And, the vex'd poet's last and worst disgrace,
His cold blank bookseller's rhyme-freezing face.
Hence, ye dark omens! that to Spleen belong,
Ye shall not check the current of my song,
While beauty's lovely race, for whom I sing,
Fire my warm hand to strike the ready string.

As Quiet now her lightest mantle laid
O'er the still senses of the sleeping maid,
Her nightly visitant, her faithful guide,
Descends in all her empyrean pride;
That fairy shape no more she deigns to wear,
Whose light foot smoothes the furrow plough'd by care
In mortal faces, while her tiny spear
Gives a kind tingle to the caution'd ear.
Now, in her nobler shape of heavenly size,
She strikes her votary's soul with new surprise.
Jove's favourite daughter, arm'd with all his powers,
Appear'd less brilliant to th' attending hours,
When on the golden car of Juno raised,
In heavenly pomp the queen of battles blazed:
With all her lustre, but without the dread
Which from her arm the frowning gorgon shed,
Sophrosyne descends with guardian love,
To waft her gentle ward to realms above.
From her fair brow, a radiant diadem
Rose in twelve stars, and every separate gem
Shot magic rays of virtue to control
Some passion hostile to the human soul,
Round her sweet form a robe of ether flow'd;
And in a wondrous car the spirit rode:
Firm as pure ivory, it charm'd the sight,
With finer polish and a softer white.
The hand of beauty, with an easy swell,
Scoop'd the free concave like a bending shell;
And on its richer exterior, Art display'd
The triumphs of the power the car convey'd.
Here, in celestial tints, surpassing life,
Sat lovely Gentleness disarming Strife:
There, young Affection, born of tender thought,
In rosy chains the fiercer passions caught;
Ambition, with his sceptre snapt in twain,
And Avarice, scorning what his chests contain.
Round the tame vulture flies the fearless dove:
Soft innocence embraces playful love;
And laughing Sport, the frolic child of air,
Buries in flowers the sinking form of care.

These figures, pencill'd with a touch so light,
That every image seem'd a heavenly sprite,
Breathe on the car; whose sight-enchanting frame
Four wheels sustain, of pale and purple flame;
For no fleet animals, to earth unknown,
Bear through ethereal fields this flying throne.
As by the subtle electrician's skill,
Globes seem to fly obedient to his will,
So these four circles of instinctive fire
Move by the impulse of their queen's desire;
Mount, or descend, by her directing care,
Or rest, supported by the buoyant air.

Now springing from the car, that hovering stay'd
High in the chamber of the sleeping maid,
The goddess, with a voice divinely clear,
Breathed these kind accents in her votary's ear; -
'Come, my fair champion! who so well hast fought
The useful battles of contentious thought;
To aid thy gentle spirit to sustain
The final conflict of thy destined pain,
View the rewards, that in my realms of bliss
Wait the sweet victor in such war as this!
So haply may thy mind, with strength renew'd,
The dark devices of the fiend elude;
By one bless'd effort seal thy triumphs past,
And gain the promised guerdon in the last.'
As thus she spoke her heavenly arms embraced,
And in the car the conscious maiden placed.
Quick at her wish the flaming wheels ascend,
No clouds impede them, wheresoe'er they bend.
As through the empire of the winds they rush'd,
The winds were all in mute submission hush'd:
And now Serena, from th' exalted car,
Look'd down astonish'd on each sinking star:
Flying o'er lucid orbs, whose distant light
Yet has not reach'd the scope of human sight;
And now, not distant from the bounds of space,
The guardian sprite suspends their rapid race:
And, while in deep amaze the nymph admires
The circling meteor's inoffensive fires,
Pleased at her wonder, the mild power address'd,
With kind intelligence, her earthly guest:
'Of those three orbs, that in yon crystal sphere
A separate system in themselves appear,
The last, whose luminous and steady form
Shines softly bright, and moderately warm,
Contains my palace, and the gentle train
Whom I have wafted to this pure domain.
At equal distance my dominions lie
From these two larger worlds, more near thine eye:
Observe their difference, as our wheels advance,
And passing, take of each a transient glance.'

So speaking, to the grosser globe she sprung,
Her car suspended o'er its surface hung
In heavy air; for round this orb was roll'd
A circling vapour, dull, and damp, and cold.
'Here,' says Sophrosyne,' those beings dwell,
Who wanted soul to act or ill or well;
Who saunter'd thoughtless through their mortal time,
Without a care, a virtue, or a crime;
Here still they saunter in this languid scene;
But pass the dozing crowd, and mark their queen;
And now, slow riding on a tortoise's back,
Her features lifeless, and each fibre slack.
Full in their view the nymph Indifference came;
The quick Serena soon perceived her name;
For, as in solemn creeping state she rode,
In her lax hand she held fair Greville's ode.
Ne'er did the muse from her sweet treasure cull
Incense so precious for a power so dull.
Still, as she moved along her even way,
The heavy goddess tried to read the lay;
But at each pause her inattentive eyes
Stray'd from the paper which she held awry;
Nor could her lips a single line repeat
Through the soft verse, most ravishingly sweet:
Through time's just ear will lasting pleasure spread,
And charm the poppy from Oblivion's head.
Thus like a city mayor, whose heavy barge
Steers its dull progress at the public charge,
This power, so cumber'd by her empire's weight,
Makes her slow circuit round her sluggish state.
Around her tribes of rambling sceptics crawl,
Though moving, dubious if they move at all.
Before her, languid pomp, her marshal, creeps,
Whose hand her banner half unfolded keeps;
Its quaint device her dull dominion spoke,
An eagle, numb'd by the torpedo's stroke.

'Enough of scenes so foreign to thy soul!'
Sophrosyne exclaim'd; 'from this dark goal
Pass we to regions opposite to this!'
She spoke; and, darting o'er the wide abyss,
Her car, like lightning in quick flashes hurl'd,
Shot to the confines of a clearer world.
Now lovelier views the virgin's mind absorb;
For now they hover'd o'er a lucid orb.
Here the soft air, luxuriantly warm,
Imparts new lustre to Serena's form:
Her eyes with more expressive radiance speak,
And richer roses open on her cheek.
Here as she gazed, she felt in every vein
A blended thrill of pleasure and of pain;
Yet every object glittering in her view,
Her quick regard with sweet attraction drew.
Sophrosyne, who saw the gentle fair
Lean o'er these confines with peculiar care,
Smiled at the tender interests she display'd,
And spoke regardful of the pensive maid:
'Well may'st thou bend o'er this congenial sphere,
For Sensibility is sovereign here.
Thou seest her train of sprightly damsels sport,
Where the soft spirit holds her rural court;
But fix thine eye attentive to the plain,
And mark the varying wonders of her reign.'
As thus she spoke, she poised her airy seat
High o'er a plain, exhaling every sweet:
For round its precincts, all the flowers that bloom,
Fill'd the delicious air with rich perfume;
And in the midst a verdant throne appear'd,
In simplest form by graceful fancy rear'd,
And deck'd with flowers; not such whose flaunting dyes
Strike with the strongest tint our dazzled eyes:
But those wild herbs that tenderest fibres bear,
And shun th' approaches of a damper air.
Here stood the lovely ruler of the scene,
And beauty, more than pomp, announced the queen.
The bending snowdrop, and the briar-rose,
The simple circle of her crown compose;
Roses of every hue her robe adorn,
Except th' insipid rose without a thorn.
Through her thin vest her heighten'd beauties shine;
For earthly gauze was never half so fine.
Of that enchanting age her figure seems,
When smiling nature, with the vital beams
Of vivid youth, and pleasure's purple flame,
Gilds her accomplish'd work - the female frame!
With rich luxuriance tender, sweetly wild,
And just between the woman and the child.
Her fair left arm around a vase she flings,
From which the tender plant Mimosa springs;
Towards its leaves, o'er which she fondly bends,
The youthful fair her vacant hand extends
With gentle motion, anxious to survey
How far the feeling fibres own her sway;
The leaves, as conscious of their queen's command,
Successive fall at her approaching hand!
Her tender breast with pity seems to pant,
And shrinks at every shrinking of the plant.

Around their sovereign, on the verdant ground,
Sweet airy forms in mystic measures bound.
The mighty master of the revel, Love,
In notes more soothing than his mother's dove,
Prompts the soft strain, that melting virgins sing,
Or sportive trips around the frolic ring,
Coupling, with radiant wreaths of lambent fire,
Fair fluttering Hope, and rapturous Desire.
Unnumber'd damsels differing charms display,
Pensive with bliss, or in their pleasures gay:
And the wide prospect yields one touching sight
Of tender, yet diversified delight.
But, the bright triumphs of their joy to check,
In the clear air there hangs a dusky speck:
It swells - it spreads - and rapid, as it grows,
O'er the gay scene a chilling shadow throws.
The fond Serena, who beheld its flight,
Suspects no evil from a cloud so light;
For harmless round her thin vapours wreathe,
Not hiding from her view the scene beneath;
But, ah! too soon, with pity's tender pain,
She saw its dire effects o'er all the plain;
Quick from the spot the sounds of anguish flow,
And joy's sweet carols end in shrieks of woe:
The wither'd flowers are fall'n, that bloom'd so fair,
And poison all the pestilential air.
From the rent earth dark demons force their way,
And make the sportive revellers their prey.
Here gloomy Terror, with a shadowy rope,
Seems, like a Turkish mute, to strangle Hope;
There jealous Fury drowns in blood the fire
That sparkled in the eye of young Desire;
And lifeless Love lets merciless Despair
From his crush'd frame his bleeding pinions tear.
But pangs more cruel, more intensely keen,
Wound and distract their sympathetic queen:
With fruitless tears she o'er their misery bends;
From her sweet brow the thorny rose she rends,
And, bow'd by grief's insufferable weight,
Frantic she curses her immortal state:
The grieved Serena, as this curse she hears,
Feels her bright eye suffused with kindred tears;
And her kind breast, where quick compassion swell'd
Shared in each bitter suffering she beheld.

The guardian power survey'd her lovely grief,
And spoke in gentle terms of mild Relief:
'For this soft tribe thy heaviest fear dismiss,
And know their pains are transient as their bliss:
Rapture and Agony, in Nature's loom,
Have form'd the changing tissue of their doom;
No power can tear the twisted threads apart
Yet happier these, to Nature's heart more dear,
Than the dull offspring in the torpid sphere,
Where her warm wishes, and affections kind,
Lose their bright current in the stagnant mind.
Here grief and joy so suddenly unite,
Than anguish serves to sublimate delight.'

She spoke: and, ere Serena could reply,
The vapour vanish'd from the lucid sky;
The nymphs revive, the shadowy fiends are fled,
The new-born flowers a richer fragrance shed;
The gentle ruler of the changeful land,
Smiling, resumed her symbol of command;
Replaced the roses of her regal wreath,
Still trembling at the thorns that lurk beneath:
But to her wounded subjects quick to pay
The tender duties of imperial sway,
Their wants she succour'd, they her wish obey'd,
And all recover'd by alternate aid;
While, on the lovely queen's enchanting face,
Departed Sorrow's faint and fainter trace
Gave to each touching charm a more attractive grace.
Now laughing Sport, from the enlighten'd plain,
Clear'd with quick foot the vestiges of pain;
The gay scene grows more beautifully bright,
Than when it first allured Serena's sight;
Still her fond eyes o'er all the prospect range,
Flashing sweet pleasure at the blissful change:
Her curious thoughts with fond attachment burn,
Yet more of this engaging land to learn.
She finds the chief attendants of the queen,
Sweet females, wafted from our human scene;
But, as it chanced, while all the realm revived,
A spirit masculine from earth arriv'd:
Two airy guides conduct the gentle shade;
Genius, in robes of braided flames array'd,
And a fantastic nymph, in manners nice,
Profusely deck'd with many an odd device;
Sister of him, whose luminous attire
Flashes with unextinguishable fire;
Like him in features, in her looks as wild,
And Singularity by mortals styled.
The eager queen, and all her smiling court,
Surround the welcome shade in gentle sport;
For in their new associate all rejoice,
All pant to hear the accents of his voice.
Though o'er his frame th' Armenian robe was flung,
The pleasing stranger spoke the Gallic tongue;
But in that language his enchanting art
Inspired new energy that seized the heart:
In terms so eloquent, so sweetly bold,
A story of disastrous love he told:
Convulsed with sympathy, the listening train,
Entreat him to renew the fascinating strain.
And now Serena, with suspended breath,
Listen'd, and caught the tale of Julia's death;
And quick she cries, ere tears had time to flow,
'Blest be this hour! for now I see Rousseau.'
Fondly she gazed, till the enchanting sound
In such a potent spell her spirit bound,
That, lost in sweet illusion, she forgot
The promised scenes of the sublimer spot;
Till now her mild remembrancer, whose care
Stray'd not a moment from the mortal fair,
Roused her rapt mind, preparing her to meet
The brighter wonders of her blissful seat;
While her instinctive car's obedient frame
Now upward rose, like undulating flame.
As when some victor on the watery world,
Bright honour gilding all his sails unfurl'd,
Steers into port, while the laughing sky
His streamers tell his triumph as they fly;
Expecting thousands line the crowded strand,
Swell the glad voice, or wave the joyous hand,
Pressing to view the sight their vows implored,
And hail their glory and their strength restored:
So the bless'd beings of this smiling scene
Flock'd round the car of their returning queen.
The radiant car, from which they now alight,
Careful she gives to a selected sprite,
A nymph of snowy vest, and lovely frame,
Fidelity her fair, and spotless name;
Then, happy to review her hallow'd home,
Leads her sweet guest to her celestial dome.

Gentlest of powers! for every purpose fit,
To strengthen wisdom, and embellish wit: -
Thou, whose mild arts, possess'd by thee alone,
Can give to Virtue's voice a sweeter tone;
Allay the frost of age, or fire of youth,
And lend attraction to severest truth;
Improve e'en Beauty by thy graceful ease,
Or teach Deformity herself to please:
Inspire the bard, whose just ambition pants
To guide weak mortals to thy heavenly haunts!
Grant him in notes, that, like thy soft control,
Allure attention, and possess the soul;
Grant him to show, in luminous display,
The mystic wonders of thy secret sway!

Now, at the sight of the presiding power,
Wide spread the gates of a stupendous tower,
On whose firm height, commanding Nature's bound,
The faithful warder of the fort they found;
Wakeful Intelligence, a trusty sprite,
Whose eyes are piercing as the solar light,
And ever on the watch to sound alarm,
If aught of dusky hue, portending harm,
Should, in defiance of her mandate, dare
Approach the palace of th' imperial fair.
Within his ward, magnificently great,
Lies the rich armoury that guards her state.
Here stands Conviction's strong and lucid spear,
Whose touch annihilates suspense and fear;
Here, Truth's unsullied adamantine shield,
Which, save Sophrosyne, no power can wield;
And Reason's trenchant blade of blazing steel,
Its edge and polish form'd by friendly Zeal;
And, not less sure the destined mark to hit,
Pointed by Virtue's hand, the shafts of Wit;
And Ridicule's strong bolt, whose stunning blow
Lays towering Vice and fearless Folly low.
Here too the goddess kept, in mystic state,
Those sweet rewards that on her champions wait,
Guerdons more precious than triumphant palms: -
The glance of Gratitude for mental alms,
The kiss of Peace and Reconcilement's tear,
And smiles of Sympathy, are treasured here.

These precincts pass'd, now hand in hand they came
To the rich fabric of majestic frame;
Instinct with joy their sovereign to behold,
The gates of massive adamant unfold,
And, as the gently-moving valves unclose,
Mysterious music from their motion flows!
The airy notes through all the palace roam,
And dulcet echoes fill the festive dome:
A gorgeous hall amaz'd Serena's eyes,
Compared to which, in splendour, strength and size,
The noblest works, of which tradition sings,
Judaic shrine, or seat of Memphian kings,
Would seem more humble than the waxen cell
In which the skilful bee is proud to dwell,
Here sits a power, in whose angelic face
Beauty is sweeten'd by maternal grace;
Her radiant seat, surpassing mortal art,
Supports an emblem of her liberal heart,
A pelican, who rears her callow brood,
And from her vitals seems to draw their food.
Around this spirit flock a filial host,
Who bless her empire, and her guidance boast.
Here every science all the Arts attend,
In her they hail their parent and their friend;
Each to her presence brings the happy few,
Whose dearest glory from her favour grew.
Here, in her simple charms, with youthful fire,
Proud to display the magic of her lyre,
Soul-soothing Harmony presents her band:
Beside her Orpheus and Amphion stand.
Here mild Philosophy, whose thoughtful frown
Is sweetly shaded by her olive crown,
(In all her Attic elegance array'd,
Strong to convince, and gentle to persuade)
To her, whose breath inspired his every rule,
Leads the bless'd sire of the Socratic school.
Each animating bard, and moral sage,
The heaven-taught minds of every clime and age,
Who soften'd manners, and refined the soul,
Flock to his presence, as to glory's goal;
And, as the mother's heart, that yearns to bless
The rival innocents that round her press,
Delights to see them, as her love they share,
Sport in her sight, and flourish by her care;
Fondly responsive to their every call,
Tender of each, and provident of all,
So this sweet image of celestial grace,
Who sits encircled by her lovely race,
To every science vital strength imparts,
And rears the circle of the social arts;
With such solicitude she gives to each
Powers of sublimer aim and wider reach.
And now Sophrosyne, who near her prest,
Thus spoke her title to her earthly guest: -
'Behold the honour'd form, without whose aid
My strength must vanish, and my glory fade!
Source of my being, and my life's support!
Eunoia call'd in this celestial court;
Benevolence the name she bears on earth,
The guard of weakness, and the friend of worth.'

She ended: and the mild maternal form
Embraced Serena with a smile as warm
As the gay spirit Vegetation wears,
When she to crown her favourite nymph prepares;
When pleased her flowery treasures to display,
She pours them in the lap of youthful May.

But how, Serena! how may human speech
Thy heavenly raptures in this moment reach?
If aught of earthly sentiment may vie
With the pure joy these happy scenes supply, -
'Tis when, unmix'd with trouble and with pain,
Love glides in secret through the glowing vein;
When some fond youth, unconscious of its fire,
Free from chill fear, and turbulent desire,
With every thought absorb'd in soft delight,
Sees all creation in his fair one's sight,
And feels a blissful state without a name,
Repose of soul with harmony of frame.
So, plunged in pleasure of the purest kind,
Serena gazed on the maternal mind;
Gazed till Sophrosyne's directing aid
Thus summon'd to new sights th' obedient maid: -
'Haste, my fair charge, for of this ample state,
Tracts yet unseen thy visitation wait.
The pressing hours forbid me to unfold
Each separate province which these confines hold.
But I will lead thee to that blissful crew,
Whose kindred spirits best deserve thy view.'

So speaking, her attentive guest she led
Through scenes that still increasing wonder bred.
Where'er she trod, through all her gorgeous seat,
Soft music echoed from beneath her feet;
Passing a portal, on whose lucid stone
Emblems of innocence and beauty shone,
They reach a lawn with verdant lustre bright,
And view the bowers of permanent delight.
No fiery sun here forms a scorching noon,
No baleful meteor gleams, no chilling moon;
But, from a latent source, one soothing light,
Whose constant rays repel the mist of night,
Though tender, cheerful, and though warm, serene,
Gives lasting beauty to the lovely scene.
No sensual thought this paradise profanes;
For here tried Excellence in triumph reigns,
Benignant cares eternal joys supply,
And bliss angelic beams in every eye.

'In yonder groups,' the leading spirit cried,
'My favourite females see, my fairest pride!
The first in the rank is that distinguish'd train,
Whose strength of soul was tried by Hymen's chain:
Though beauty bless'd their form, and love, their guide,
Their nuptial band with happiest omens tied,
Beauty and love, they felt, may lose the art
To fix inconstant man's eccentric heart;
Yet, conscious of their lord's neglected vow,
No virtue frown'd outrageous on their brow,
To keep returning tenderness aloof,
By coarse upbraiding, and despised reproof:
With sorrow smother'd in attraction's smile,
They strove the sense of misery to beguile;
And, from wild passion's perilous abyss,
Lure the lost wanderer back to the faithful bliss.
See mild Octavia o'er this band preside,
Voluptuous Antony's neglected bride,
Whose feeling heart, with all a mother's care,
Rear'd the young offspring of a rival fair.
Far other trials raised yon lovely crew,
Though in connubial scenes their merit grew:
It was their chance, ere judgement was mature,
When glittering toys the infant mind allure,
Following their parents' avaricious rule,
To wed, with hopes of bliss, a wealthy fool.
When time removed delusion's veil by stealth,
And show'd the drear vacuity of wealth!
When sad experience proved the bitter fate
Of beauty coupled to a senseless mate:
These gentle wives still gloried to submit;
These, though invited by alluring wit,
Refused in paths of lawless joy to range,
Nor murmur'd at the lot thy could not change:
But, with a lively sweetness, unoppress'd
By a dull husband's lamentable jest,
Their constant rays of gay good humour spread
A guardian glory round their idiot's head.
The next in order are those lovely forms,
Whose patience weather'd all paternal storms;
By filial cares, the mind's unfailing test,
Well have they earn'd these seats of blissful rest:
They, unrepining at severe restraint,
Peevish command, and undeserved complaint,
Bent with unwearied kindness to appease
Each fancied want of querulous disease;
Gave up those joys, which youthful hearts engage,
To watch the weakness of parental age.

Turn to this cheerful band; and mark in this,
Spirits who justly claim my realms of bliss!
Most lovely these! when judged by generous truth,
Though beauty is not theirs, nor blooming youth:
For these are they, who, in life's thorny shade,
Repined not at the name of ancient maid.
No proud disdain, no narrowness of heart,
Held them from Hymen's tempting rites apart;
But fair discretion led them to withdraw
From the prized honour of his proffer'd law;
To quit the object of no hasty choice,
In mind submission to a parent's voice,
The valued lover with a sigh resign,
And sacrifice delight at duty's shrine.
With smiles they bore, from angry Spleen's exempt,
Injurious mockery, and coarse contempt:
'Twas theirs to clasp each selfish care above,
And form the cement of domestic peace.
No throbbing joy their spotless bosom fired,
Save what Benevolence herself inspired;
No praise they sought, except that praise refined,
Which the heart whispers to the worthy mind.

Such are these gentle tribes, the happy few,
Who share the triumph to their victory due:
Angelic aims their spotless minds employ,
And fill their measure of unchequer'd joy.
Behold! where some with generous ardour wait
Around yon seer, who holds the book of fate;
Those awful leaves with eager glance they turn,
Thence with celestial zeal they fondly learn
What dangers threaten, through the vale of earth,
Their kindred pilgrims ere they rise to birth:
To earth they still invisibly descend,
In that dark scene congenial minds defend;
From pleasure's bud drive Spleen's corroding worm,
And in my votary's heart my power confirm.

Delights more calm yon listening band employ,
Who deeply drink of intellectual joy.
See them around that speaking nymph rejoice,
Their pleasure varying with her varied voice!
What graces in the sweet enthusiast glow!
Repeating here whate'er she learns below:
Memory her name, her charge o'er earth to flit,
And cull the fairest flowers of human wit.
Whatever Genius, in his happiest hour,
Has penn'd, of moral force, and comic power,
To warm the heart, the spells of Spleen unbind,
And pour gay sunshine o'er the misty mind;
Teach men to cherish their fraternal tie,
And view kind nature with a filial eye;
This active spirit catches in her flight,
Skill'd to retain, and happy to recite,
Here she delivers each bright work, and each
Gains new attraction from her graceful speech.
Warpt by no envy, by no love misled,
Equal she holds the living and the dead;
Alike rehearsing, as they claim their turn,
The song of Anstey, and the tale of Sterne.
Here Truth in Honour's seat a bard enthrones,
Who caught from Nature all her finest tones;
Her favourite bard! to decorate whose lyre
Talents of wide diversity conspire:
Who blends (enchanting friend of every hour!)
Humour's light grace with Fancy's lofty power:
Freedom and Sanctity in union sweet,
The Task of Cowper (their own task!) repeat;
To match whose beauties (all to virtue dear!)
Verse-proud Antiquity presents no peer.

But morning calls thee hence. - Yet one scene more
My fostering love shall lead thee to explore.
This, thy last sight, with careful eyes survey,
And mark th' extensive nature of my sway.'

Thus with fond zeal the guardian spirit said,
And to new precincts of her palace led:
The scene she enter'd of her richest state,
Where on her voice the subject passions wait:
Here rose a throne of living gems, so bright
No breath could sully their benignant light;
This, her immortal seat, the gracious guide
Assumed: her ward stood wondering at her side.
Swift as they felt their ruling power enthroned,
Ethereal beings, who her empire own'd,
Crowded in glittering pomp the gorgeous scene,
To pay their homage to their heavenly queen.

First came chaste Love, whose fine harmonious form
Ne'er felt Suspicion's sou-convulsing storm;
No baleful arrow in his quiver lies,
No blinding veil enwraps his sparkling eyes;
There all the rays of varied joy unite,
And jointly shed unspeakable delight.
With him was Friendship like a virgin dress'd,
The soft Asbestos form'd her simple vest,
Whose wondrous folds, in fiercest flames entire,
Mock the vain ravage of consuming fire:
Around this robe a mystic chain she wore,
Each golden link a star of diamonds bore;
Force could not tear the finish'd work apart,
Nor Interest loose it by his subtlest art:
But, strange to tell, if the presiding Power,
Who to her favourite gave this precious dower,
If kind Sophrosyne could fail to breathe
Her vital virtue on this magic wreath,
The parts must sever, faithless to their trust,
The gold grow dross, and every diamond dust.
These Valour followed, deck'd with verdant palm,
Gracefully bold, majestically calm.
A mingled troop succeed, with festive sound,
Wisdom with olive, Wit with feathers crown'd;
Here hand in hand they move, no longer foes,
Their charms increasing as their union grows;
Pure spirits all, who hating mental strife,
Exalt creation, and embellish life:
All here attend, and in their Sovereign's praise,
Their circling forms the song of glory raise.

The bless'd Serena drinks, with ravish'd ear,
The melting music of the tuneful sphere.
Now in its close the soothing echoes roll
O'er her rapt fancy, and entrance her soul;
Her senses sink in soft oblivion's bands,
Till faithful Jenny at her pillow stands,
Recalls each mental and corporeal power,
While she proclaims aloud the passing hour;
And, in a voice expressive of surprise,
Too shrill to seem the music of the skies,
Informs the startled fair 'tis time to rise.
Gay as Aurora from her couch she sprung,
Joy in her eyes, and music on her tongue.