Old Midnight’s sister, Contemplation
sage,
(Queen of the rugged brow and stern-fixt
eye,)
To lift my soul above this little earth,
This folly-fettered world: to purge
my ears,
That I may hear the rolling planets’
song,
And tuneful turning spheres: if this
be barred
The little fays, that dance in neighbouring
dales,
Sipping the night-dew, while they laugh
and love,
Shall charm me with aerial notes.—As
thus
I wander musing, lo, what awful forms
Yonder appear! sharp-eyed Philosophy
Clad in dun robes, an eagle on his wrist,
First meets my eye; next, virgin Solitude
Serene, who blushes at each gazer’s
sight;
Then Wisdom’s hoary head, with crutch
in hand,
Trembling, and bent with age; last Virtue’s
self,
Smiling, in white arrayed, who with her
leads
Sweet Innocence, that prattles by her
side,
A naked boy!—Harassed with
fear I stop,
I gaze, when Virtue thus—’Whoe’er
thou art,
Mortal, by whom I deign to be beheld
In these my midnight walks; depart, and
say,
That henceforth I and my immortal train
Forsake Britannia’s isle; who fondly
stoops
To vice, her favourite paramour.’
She spoke,
And as she turned, her round and rosy
neck,
Her flowing train, and long ambrosial
hair,
Breathing rich odours, I enamoured view.
O who will bear me then to western climes,
Since virtue leaves our wretched land,
to fields
Yet unpolluted with Iberian swords,
The isles of innocence, from mortal view
Deeply retired, beneath a plantain’s
shade,
Where happiness and quiet sit enthroned.
With simple Indian swains, that I may
hunt
The boar and tiger through savannahs wild,
Through fragrant deserts and through citron
groves?
There fed on dates and herbs, would I
despise
The far-fetched cates of luxury, and hoards
Of narrow-hearted avarice; nor heed
The distant din of the tumultuous world.
JOHN GILBERT COOPER
FROM THE POWER OF HARMONY
THE HARMONY OF NATURE
Hail, thrice hail!
Ye solitary seats, where Wisdom seeks
Beauty and Good, th’ unseparable
pair,
Sweet offspring of the sky, those emblems
fair
Of the celestial cause, whose tuneful
word
From discord and from chaos raised this
globe
And all the wide effulgence of the day.
From him begins this beam of gay delight,
When aught harmonious strikes th’
attentive mind;
In him shall end; for he attuned the frame
Of passive organs with internal sense,
To feel an instantaneous glow of joy,
When Beauty from her native seat of Heaven,
Clothed in ethereal wildness, on our plains
Descends, ere Reason with her tardy eye
Can view the form divine; and through
the world
The heavenly boon to every being flows.
* * * * *