[] ELEGIES By Mr. DELAP.
LONDON: Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY in PALL-MALL. MDCCLX.
[]ELEGIES.
ELEGY I.
AH ſtay!—thy wand oblivious o'er my eyes
Yet wave, mild power of ſleep!—my pray'r is vain;
She flies, the partial nurſe of nature flies,
With all her ſoothing viſionary train.
Then let me forth; and near yon flowering thorn
Taſte heav'n's pure breath; while rob'd in amber veſt,
Freſh from her watry couch, the youthful morn
Steals on the ſlumbers of the drowzy eaſt.
Lo, at her preſence, the ſtrong arm of toil,
With glittering ſickle, mows the prime of may;
While yon poor hirelings, for the mine's rude ſoil,
Leave to their ſleeping babes their cots of clay.
With ſturdy ſtep, they cheerly whiſtle o'er
The path that flings acroſs the reedy plain,
To the deep caverns of that yawning moor,
Whoſe ſhaggy breaſt abhors the golden grain.
[4]
There, in her green dreſs, nature never roves,
Spreads the gay lawn, nor lifts the lordly pine,
They ſee no melting clouds refreſh the groves,
No living landſcape drawn by hands divine.
But many a fathom from the ſunny breeze,
Their painful way in central night they wear;
Heave the pik'd axes on their bended knees,
Or ſidelong the rough quarry ſlowly tear.
Yet while damp vapours chill each reeking brow,
How loudly laughs the jovial voice of mirth;
Pleas'd that the wages of the day allow
A ſocial blaze to cheer their ev'ning hearth.
There the chaſte houſewife, with maternal care,
Her thrifty diſtaf plies, in grave attire;
Bleſt to behold her ruddy offspring wear
The full reſemblance of their ſturdy ſire,
To ſpread with ſuch coarſe fare their homely board
As fits the genius of their little fate,
Free from thoſe ills that haunt their pamper'd lord;
To be unhappy we muſt firſt be great.
[5]
In theſe dark caves, where heav'n's paternal hand,
Far from the world, their private cradle laid,
They toil ſecure: the ſtorms that ſtrike the land
With wild diſmay, roll harmleſs o'er their head.
For who, the load of weary life to bear,
Wou'd from theſe murky manſions chace the ſlave?
Who ceaſe to breathe heav'n's pure and chearful air,
To be but living tenants of the grave?
Yet harraſs'd as they are, their face ſtill wears
The reverend comelineſs of green old age;
No ſtains their mind from worldly ſcience bears;
Their ray of knowledge gleams from nature's page.
The few plain rules her ſimple leſſons give,
They ſtill thro' life with pleas'd attention ply;
Their helpleſs offspring bid them wiſh to live,
Their breathleſs parents bid them learn to die.
And ſurely heav'n, whoſe penetrating ſight
Pierces the ſoul, and reads its inmoſt groan,
Muſt ſee content, with more ſincere delight,
Toil in the mine, than triumph on the throne;
[6]
See * Charles, more pleas'd, within the convent's gloom,
Seeking the ſlaves calm nights, their temperate days,
And peaceful paſſage to the private tomb,
Than diadem'd with glory's crimſon rays.
Ev'n the proud ſage, whoſe deep myſterious brain
Has reaſon'd all the balm of hope away,
Convinc'd that learning's but ingenious pain,
Might hail their happier lot, and ſighing ſay,
"Oh had I thus, within the dark profound,
"By daily labor earn'd my daily food;
'Or with yon ſeedſman ſow'd the quickening ground,
"Or cleav'd with ponderous ax the groaning wood!
"Full many an hour that now, tho' ſped with art,
"On ſlow and duſky pinions ſullen flies,
"Full many an anxious wiſh, or pang of heart,
"That reaſon's boaſted anodyne defies,
[7]
"Had ne'er been born. Nor had th' uneaſy mind,
"Pent in the priſon of this mortal mould,
"Felt its ethereal energy confin'd,
"Its brighteſt ſunſhine in dark clouds enroll'd.
"But native ſenſe her modeſt courſe had run;
"Her ſaintly luſtre untaught virtue ſpread;
"Health crown'd my toils, and ere the day was done,
"Sound ſleep beneath ſome alder's ruſtling ſhade.
"Then, as I ſtole down life's declining hill,
"Here nature's gifts had furniſh'd nature's needs,
"The brook's cold beverage ev'ry latent ill
"Had ſtarv'd, that cloyſter'd contemplation feeds.
"Till, in the peaceful ſhade of this lone bower,
"Or near yon ſhattered tower in ſilence laid,
"The orient orb, that watch'd my natal hour,
"Had brightly glitter'd o'er my mouldering head.
TO SICKNESS.
ELEGY II.
[]HOW blith the flowery graces of the ſpring
From nature's wardrobe come: and hark how gay
Each glittering inſect, hovering on the wing,
Sings their glad welcome to the fields of may.
They gaze, with greedy eye, each beauty o'er;
They ſuck the ſweet breath of the bluſhing roſe;
Sport in the gale, or ſip the rainbow ſhower;
Their life's ſhort day no pauſe of pleaſure knows.
Like their's, dread Power, my chearful morn diſplay'd
The flattering promiſe of a golden noon,
Till each gay cloud, that ſportive nature ſpread,
Died in the gloom of thy diſtemper'd frown.
Yes, ere I told my two and twentieth year,
Swift from thy quiver flew the deadly dart;
Harmleſs it paſt 'mid many a blith compeer,
And found its fated entrance near my heart.
[9]
Pale as I lay beneath thy ebon wand,
I ſaw them rove through pleaſure's flowery field;
I ſaw health paint them with her roſy hand,
Eager to burſt my bonds, but forc'd to yield.
Yet while this mortal cot of mould'ring clay
Shakes at the ſtroke of thy tremendous power,
Ah muſt the tranſient tenant of a day
Bear the rough blaſt of each tempeſtuous hour!
Say, ſhall the terrors thy pale flag unfolds,
Too rigid Queen! unnerve the ſoul's bright powers,
Till with a joyleſs ſmile the eye beholds
Art's magic charms, and nature's fairy bowers.
No, let me follow ſtill, thoſe bowers among,
Her flowery footſteps, as the goddeſs goes;
Let me, juſt lifted 'bove th' unletter'd throng,
Read the few books the learned few compoſe.
And ſuffer, when thy aweful pleaſure calls
The ſoul to ſhare her frail companion's ſmart,
Yet ſuffer me to taſte the balm that falls,
From friendſhip's tongue, ſo ſweet upon the heart.
[10]
Then, tho' each trembling nerve confeſs thy frown,
Ev'n till this anxious being ſhall become
But a brief name upon a little ſtone,
Without one murmur I embrace my doom.
For many a virtue, ſhelter'd from mankind,
Lives calm with thee, and lord o'er each deſire;
And many a feeble frame, whoſe mighty mind
Each muſe has touch'd with her immortal fire.
Ev'n * He, ſole terror of a venal age,
The tuneful bard, whoſe philoſophic ſoul,
With ſuch bright radiance glow'd on Virtue's page,
Learn'd many a leſſon from thy moral ſchool.
He † too, who "mounts and keeps his diſtant way,"
His daring mind thy humanizing glooms
Have temper'd with a melancholy ray,
And taught to warble 'mid the village tombs.
Yes, goddeſs, to thy temple's deep receſs
I come; and lay for ever at its door
The ſiren throng of follies numberleſs,
Nor wiſh their flattering ſongs ſhou'd ſooth me more.
[11]
Thy decent garb ſhall oer my limbs be ſpread,
Thy hand ſhall lead me to thy ſober train,
Who here retir'd, with penſive pleaſure tread
The ſilent windings of thy dark domain.
Hither the cherub charity ſhall fly
From her bright orb, and brooding o'er my mind,
For miſery raiſe a ſympathizing ſigh,
Pardon for foes, and love for humankind.
Then while ambition's trump, from age to age
Its ſlaughter'd millions boaſts; while fame ſhall rear
Her deathleſs trophies o'er the bard and ſage,
Be mine the widow's ſigh, the orphan's prayer.
The END.
Notes
*
Charles V. of Spain, who in the full blaze of his glory, reſigned the throne to his ſon Philip, and retired to a convent in Eſtremadura.
*
Mr. POPE.
†
Mr. GRAY.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2016). TEI. 4873 Elegies by Mr Delap. University of Oxford Text Archive. University of Oxford, License: Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/]. https://hdl.handle.net/11378/0000-0005-D994-F