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gold, and set with precious stones of immense value,
Every prince of the house of Bhamenee, who pos. The cerulean throne of Koolburga.
sessed this Throne, made a point of adding to it some * On Mahommed Shaw's return to Koolburga (the rich stones, so that when, in the reign of Sultan Macapital of Dekkan) he made a great festival, and mood, it was taken to pieces, to remove some of the mounted his throne with much pomp and magnifi- jewels to be set in vases and cups, the jewellers valued cence, calling it Firozeh or Cerulean. I have heard it at one crore of oons, (nearly four millions sterling.) some old persons, who saw the throne Firozeh in I learned also that it was called Firozeh from being the reign of Sultan Mamood Bhamenee, describe it. partly enamelled of a sky-blue colour, which was in They say that it was in length nine feet, and three in time totally concealed by the number of jewels."breadth ; made of ebony, covered with plates of pure Ferishta.
TO FRANCIS, EARL OF MOIRA,
CONSTABLE OF THE TOWER, ETC. My LORD:-It is impossible to think of addressing a Dedication to your Lordship without calling to mind the well-known reply of the Spartan to a rhetorician, who proposed to pronounce an eulogium on Hercules. “ On Hercules !" said the honest Spartan, “who ever thought of blaming Hercules ?” In a similar manner the concurrence of public opinion has left to the panegyrist of your Lordship a very superfluous task I shall therefore be silent on the subject, and merely entreat your indulgence to the very humble tribute of gratitude, which I have here the honour to present. I am, MY LORD, with every feeling of attachment and respect,
Your Lordship's very devoted Servant, 27, Bury Street, St. James's, April 10, 1806.
many of those illusive ideas, with respect to the purity
of the government and the primitive happiness of the The principal poems in the following Collection people, which I had early imbibed in my native counwere written during an absence of fourteen months try, where, unfortunately, discontent at home enhances from Europe. Though curiosity was certainly not every distant temptation, and the western world has the motive of my voyage to America, yet it happened long been looked to as a retreat from real or imagithat the gratification of curiosity was the only advan- nary oppression; as the elysian Atlantis, where pertage which I derived from it. Finding myself in the secuted patriots might find their visions realized, and country of a new people, whose infancy had promised be welcomed by kindred spirits to liberty and repose. so much, and whose progress to maturity has been an
I was completely disappointed in every flattering exobject of such interesting speculation, I determined to pectation which I had formed, and was inclined to employ the short period of time, which my plan of say to America, as Horace says to his mistress, “ inreturn to Europe afforded me, in travelling through a
tentata nites.” Brissot, in the preface to his travels, few of the States and acquiring some knowledge of observes, that “freedom in that country is carried the inhabitants.
to so high a degree as to border upon a state of naThe impression which my mind received from the ture ;” and there certainly is a close approximation to character and manners of these republicans, suggest- savage life, not only in the liberty which they enjoy, ed the Epistles which are written from the city of but in the violence of party spirit and of private aniWashington and Lake Erie.' How far I was right, mosity which results from it. This illiberal zeal emin thus assuming the tone of a satirist against a peo
bitters all social intercourse; and, though I scarcely ple whom I viewed but as a stranger and a visitor, is could hesitate in selecting the party, whose views apa doubt which my feelings did not allow me
me to peared the more pure and rational, yet I was sorry to investigate. All I presume to answer for, is the observe that, in asserting their opinions, they both fidelity of the pioture which I have given; and though
assume an equal share of intolerance; the Democrats, prudence might have dictated gentler language, truth, consistently with their principles, exhibiting a vulgariI think, would have justified severer.
ty of rancour, which the Federalists too often are so I went to America, with prepossessions by no
forgetful of their cause as to imitate. means unfavourable, and indeed rather indulged in
The rude familiarity of the lower orders, and in
deed the unpolished state of society in general, would 1 Epistles VI, VII, and VIII.
neither surprise nor disgust if they seemed to flow
from that simplicity of character, that honest igno-|For ever past, when brilliant joy
And turn'd the leaf with folly's feather!
With respect to the poems in general, which oc- And then, that Hope, that fairy Hope, cupy the following pages, I know not in what manner
Oh! she awak'd such happy dreams, to apologize to the public for intruding upon their And gave my soul such tempting scope notice such a mass of unconnected trifles, such a
For all its dearest, fondest schemes, world of epicurean atoms as I have here brought in That not Verona's child of song, conflict together. To say that I have been tempted
When flying from the Phrygian shore, by the liberal offers of my bookseller, is an excuse With lighter hopes could bound along, which can hope for but little indulgence from the
Or pant to be a wanderer more !! critic; yet I own that, without this seasonable inducement, these poems very possibly would never have Even now delusive hope will steal
Amid the dark regrets I feel, been submitted to the world. The glare of publication is too strong for such imperfect productions : Soothing as yonder placid beam they should be shown but to the eye of friendship, in And lights them with consoling gleam,
Pursues the murmurers of the deep, that dim light of privacy, which is as favourable to
And smiles them into tranquil sleep! poetical as to female beauty, and serves as a veil for
Oh! such a blessed night as this, faults, while it enhances every charm which it dis
I often think, if friends were near, plays. Besides, this is not a period for the idle oc
How we should feel, and gaze with bliss cupations of poetry, and times like the present require talents more active and more useful. Few have The sea is like a silvery lake,
Upon the moon-bright scenery here! now the leisure to read such trifles, and I sincerely
And, o'er its calm the vessel glides regret that I have had the leisure to write them.
Gently, as if it fear'd to wake
The slumber of the silent tides !
The only envious cloud that lowers,
Hath hung its shade on Pico's height, TO LORD VISCOUNT STRANGFORD.
Where dimly, mid the dusk, he towers,
And scowling at this heav'n of light,
Exults to see the infant storin
Cling darkly round his giant form! By any spell my hand could dare
Now, could I range those verdant isles
Invisible, at this soft hour,
That brighten many an orange bower;
And could I lift each pious veil, Should smile, upon thy orb to meet
And see the blushing cheek it shades, The recollection, kind and sweet,
Oh ! I should have full many a tale,
To tell of young Azorian maids.3
1 Alluding to these animated lines in the 44th Carmen ot
this Poet: To many a dear-lov'd, distant friend!
Jam mens prætrepidans avet vagari, Oh STRANGFORD! when we parted last,
Jam leti studio pedes vigescunt! I little thought the times were past,
2 Pico is a very high mountain on one of the Azores, from which the Island derives its name. It is said by some to be
as high as the Peak of Teneriffe. 1 Pythagoras; who was supposed to have a power of 31 believe it is Guthrie who says, that the inhabitants of writing upon the Moon, by the means of a magic mirror. the Azores are much addicted to gallantry. This is an as See Bayle, Art. Pythag.
sertion in which even Guthrie may be credited
ABOARD THE PHAETON FRIGATE OFF THE AZORES;
Dear STRANGFORD! at this hour, perhaps,
Some faithful lover (not so blest As they, who in their ladies' laps
May cradle every wish to rest,) Warbles, to touch his dear one's soul,
Those madrigals, of breath divine, Which Camoen's harp from rapture stole
And gave, all glowing warm, to thine !! Oh! could the lover learn from thee,
And breathe them with thy graceful tone, Such dear, beguiling minstrelsy
Would make the coldest nymph his own! But hark! the boatswain's pipings tell 'Tis time to bid my dream farewell: Eight bells:--the middle watch is set : Good night, my STRANGFORD, ne'er forget That far beyond the western sea? Is one, whose heart remembers thee!
Θυμος δε ποτ' εμος ......... •............... με προσφωνει ταδε: Γινωσκε τ'ανθρωπεια μη σε βειν αγαν. .
A BEAM of tranquillity smil'd in the west,
The storms of the morning pursued us no more, And the wave, while it welcom'd the moment of rest,
Still heav'd, as remembering ills that were o'er ! Serenely my heart took the hue of the hour,
Its passions were sleeping, were mute as the dead, And the spirit becalm'd but remember'd their power,
As the billow the force of the gale that was fled ! I thought of the days, when to pleasure alone
My heart ever granted a wish or a sigh;
Was pity for those who were wiser than I!
In luxury loses its heavenly ray ;
The pearl of the soul may be melted away!
That pleasure no more might its purity dim: And that sullied but little, or brightly the same,
I might give back the gem I had borrow'd from him! The thought was ecstatic! I felt as if Heaven
Had already the wreath of eternity shown; As if, passion all chasten'd and error forgiven,
My heart had begun to be purely its own! I look'd to the west, and the beautiful sky
Which morning had clouded, was clouded no more: “ Oh! thus," I exclaim'd, “can a heavenly eye
Shed light on the soul that was darken'd before !"
THE TELL-TALE LYRE. I've heard, there was in ancient days
A Lyre of most melodious spell ; 'Twas heav'n to hear its fairy lays,
If half be true that legends tell. 'Twas play'd on by the gentlest sighs,
And to their breath it breath'd again In such entrancing melodies
As ear had never drunk till then ! Not harmony's serenest touch
So stilly could the notes prolong; They were not heavenly song so much
As they were dreams of heavenly song! If sad the heart, whose murmuring air
Along the chords in languor stole, The soothings it awaken'd there
Were eloquence from pity's soul! Or if the sigh, serene and light,
Was but the breath of fancied woes, The string, that felt its airy flight,
Soon whisper'd it to kind repose ! And oh! when lovers talk'd alone,
If, mid their bliss the Lyre was near, It made their murmurs all its own,
And echoed notes that heav'n might hear! There was a nymph, who long had lov'd,
But dar'd not tell the world how well; The shades, where she at evening rov'd,
Alone could know, alone could tell. 'Twas there, at twilight time, she stole
So oft, to make the dear-one bless'd, Whom love had giv'n her virgin soul,
And nature soon gave all the rest ! It chanc'd that in the fairy bower
Where they had found their sweetest shed, This Lyre, of strange and magic power,
Hung gently whispering o'er their head. And while, with eyes of mingling fire,
They listen'd to each other's vow,
A pillow for his angel's brow!
On all its echoes wanton'd round,
Through golden mazes charm'd the sound ! Alas! their hearts but little thought,
While thus entranc'd they listening lay, That every sound the Lyre was taught
Should linger long, and long betray! So mingled with its tuneful soul
Were all their tender murmurs grown, That other sighs unanswered stole,
Nor chang'd the sweet, the treasur'd tone. Unhappy nymph! thy name was sung
To every passing lip that sigh’d; The secrets of thy gentle tongue
On every ear in murmurs died ! The fatal Lyre, by Envy's hand
Hung high, amid the breezy groves, To every wanton gale that fann'd
Betray'd the mystery of your loves!
1 These islands belong to the Portuguese.
2 From Capt. Cockburn, who commanded the Phaeton, I received such kind attentions as I must ever remember with gratitude. As some of the journalists have gravely asserted that I went to America to speculate in lands, it may not be impertinent to state, that the object of this voyage across the Atlantic was my appointment to the office of Registrar of the Vice-Admiralty Court of Bermuda.
Yet, oh!--not many a suffering hour,
Thy cup of shame on earth was giv'n: Benignly came some pitying Power,
And took the Lyre and thee to Heaven ! There as thy lover dries the tear
Yet warm from life's malignant wrongs, Within his arms, thou lov'st to hear
The luckless Lyre's remember'd songs ! Still do your happy souls attune
The notes it learn'd, on earth, to move; Still breathing o'er the chords, commune
In sympathies of angel love!
TO THE FLYING-FISH." When I have seen thy snowy wing O'er the blue wave at evening spring, And give those scales, of silver white, So gaily to the eye of light, As if thy frame were form'd to rise, And live amid the glorious skies ; Oh! it has made me proudly feel, How like thy wing's impatient zeal Is the pure soul, that scorns to rest Upon the world's ignoble breast, But takes the plume that God has given, And rises into light and heaven! But, when I see that wing, so bright, Grow languid with a moment's flight, Attempt the paths of air in vain, And sink into the waves again : Alas! the flattering pride is o'er ; Like thee, awhile, the soul may soar, But erring man must blush to think, Like thee, again, the soul may sink ! Oh Virtue ! when thy clime I seek, Let not my spirit's flight be weak: Let me not, like this feeble thing, With brine still dropping from its wing, Just sparkle in the solar glow, And plunge again to depths below; But, when I leave the grosser throng With whom my soul hath dwelt so long Let
me, in that aspiring day, Cast every lingering stain away, And, panting for thy purer air, Fly up at once and fix me there!
I heard, in home's beloved shade,
At length I touch the happy sphere
TO MISS M- -E. FROM NORFOLK, IN VIRGINIA, Nov. 1803. In days, my Kate, when life was new, When, lull'd with innocence and you,
1 st is the opinion of St. Austín upon Genesis, and I believe of nearly all the Fathers, that birds, like fish, were originally produced from the waters; in defence of which idea they have collected every fanciful circumstance which can tend to prove a kindred similitude between them; συγγενειαν τοις πετομενοις προς τα νηκτα. With this thought in our minds when we first see the Flying-Fish, we could almost fancy, that we are present at the moment of .creation, and witness the birth of the first bird from the waves.