2.

Let them enjoy, through life, their lifeless calm,
I cannot envy their ignoble lot,

No feeling friend, helps out the dreary span,

And soon as laid in grave, they are forgot. For them no child sheds oft the pearly tear,

Or Sorrow pales her once full blooming cheek, And when inhumed, each village hind forbears,

To gather wild flowers oft, their new made mounds to deck.

3.

From youthful lines like these, let such refrain,

And may the work, neglected, lay unread;

But you, enamour'd, of the poet's strain,

Who love his scenes of beauty, and of dread, For you I write; come, read this early lay,

Yet come not armed for critic's fierce assault; But scan with friendship, what I here display;

A youth has wrote these lines, and youth is full of fault.

4.

Upon those banks, where Garonne's silver stream,

Progresses on, with irremitting way,

Once dwelt the present hero of my theme,
And there he passed his early life away;

A youth he was, ORLANDO was his name;
Not deeply skilled in human lore was he;

But yet some little science might he claim,
And he was ably skill'd in heavenly minstrelsy.

5.

His antiquated father, once had been

A minstrel, of the old Provençal line,

And who, before him, lords and knights had seen,
Melt at the pleasing sadness of his strain.
Or when he chose to sound a nobler lyre,

And sing the deeds heroic chiefs had done;
Quick every bosom thrills with warlike fire,

And emulates the fame which they had ably won.

6.

But now, Orlando was his only care,

(And oft he thought he was a noble youth,) Of glittering vice he taught him to beware, And fix'd the seeds of virtue and of truth.

I ween Orlando was no vulgar boy,

And Fancy's fairest garb was o'er him hung, For him were scenes of visionary joy,

And to those visions sweet, his wild harp often rung

7.

To him was every charm of nature sweet,
Whether it was beautiful, or was sublime,
At early day, he rose the sun to greet,

Or sung his native songs, in simple rhyme;
Or wandering on the Garonne's verdant side,

With limes embower'd, or weeping-willows hung, Whose pendent branches, drank the rippling tide,

Or flitting on whose boughs, the feather'd minstrels sung.

8.

Here'oft reclined, beneath the arching vines,

That formed o'erhead, a high luxuriant bower,
He read some native poet's amorous lines,
Or twin'd around his harp, full many a flower,
That grew in rich profusion every where;
Then sudden strike as will'd his fancy wild
His decorated harp, with many an air,

That through his answering bosom sweetly thrill'd

9.

Now is he silent. Hark! the echoes round,

Reverb❜rate softly through the distant hills, And distance gave them, far, a sweeter sound, Join'd to the babbling of the crystal rills.

A melancholy moraliser oft was he,

On the green swelling bank his head reclin'd, While the fair streamlet murmur'd far away,

Such were the feelings of his youthful mind;

10.'

"See yonder leaf, upon the dimpled stream,
Borne by its lucid tide, afar away,

And such, alas! is Life's quick fading dream,
Man the possessor of a cloudy day;

Ah! soon he feels Misfortune's iron hand

Tear him away, from his uncertain tree,

Borne down the horrid wave, by Death's fierce band,
And quickly borne away from earthly misery.

11.

"But why, (he sudden cried) should man repine, Why should anticipation chill the present hour, Is not fair Hope's all-cheering power thine,

To grant her aid, when darkening tempests lower? Is not to thee, the angel Fancy given,

Wherewith to soar beyond this grovelling earth, To mount the whirlwind, ride aloft to heaven,

Or even in this world, give joy immortal birth?”

12.

Such thoughts as these soon cheer'd his vigorous mind;
Before young Fancy, Melancholy flew,

Th his light soul no earthly bounds confin'd,

Quick from his eyes terrestrial scenes withdrew.

But soon, alas! the pleasing frenzy's o'er,

Yet still remains his soaring heart sublimed;

Nature's mild views are pleasing now no more,

And soon he leaves his seat, sublimer scenes to find.

13.

Then would he gain some spot of nature wild,
Where rugged cliffs, in awful grandeur rise,
Where rocks on rocks, in savage splendour smil'd,
Or frowning, rear'd their summits in the skies.
Through yonder rift that yawning earthquakes made
Hoarse dashing down, the 'whelming torrent, pours,
Now on the base in foaming white array'd,

Then winding through the steep, the current roughly roars.

1

14.

Or gain some dell, where Alpine heights arise,

Where nought was heard to break the silence deep,

Save the bold eagle soaring in the skies,

Save the wild chamois bounding up the steep;

Or hoary goats upon the mountain's brow;

Here some reclin'd, abroad there others stray'd,

A moving speck on the eternal snow,

While all around them clouds, and shadowy billows play'd.

15.

Dear was to him, the hour of early morn,

When every flower puts on its bloom anew, Each shrub, with sweet fresh blossoms is adorned, And every lime-tree glitters with the dew. Adown the dale, the smoking streamlets glide,

With ruddy tints the misty mountain glows,

Hark, from the trees that grow on every side

How sweet upon his ear the birds' wild music flows.

16.

The milk-maid carols forth her simple lay,

The brisk young peasant whistles o'er his plough,

The shepherd drives his snowy flock away,

Or tunes his lute beneath some shady bough.

Oft would he now some eminence ascend,
Where the old Pyrenees majestic rise,
While all around him loveliest views extend,
Expanding far and wide before his admiring eyes.

17.

The silver stream, that trickles by his feet,
Then dashing, foaming o'er the rocks does run,
Through laughing meads, it now meanders sweet,
Now lost in shade, now shining in the sun.
By trees embower'd adown in yonder glade,
Reflected in the stream the village lays,

And just beyond, the school with whitened pale,
That oft in early youth, had seen his sportive plays.

18.

Then farther on, o'er many an orchard green,
And yellow field, and many a verdant mead,
There where the forest's darkening shade is scen,
The warlike castle lifts its towering head,
Its turrets frowning o'er the forest brown;
Unhurt, as yet by Time's destroying hand,
Which oft within its massy walls has known

Its owner's noble tread, a prince of high renown.

19.

Then distant far, the scene extended wide,
Here cities rising from the vernal plain,
There villages, some rural stream beside;

Here rivers wandering to the azure main, With sails expanded on their bosom clear;

Old castles stood, on many a cliff sublime,

Old abbeys' walls, in distant view appear,

And numerous low chateaus, embosom'd round with lime.

20.

Sweet was the morn, and pleasant was the hour,

And not a cloud obscured the cheerful sun, Orlando's mind soon felt its balmy power,

From contemplation mild he thus begun: "Cold is the heart, cold as the mountain snow, That cannot Nature's loveliest scenes enjoy,

While all around him, softest flowrets blow,

Can grovelling earthly views his wand'ring mind employ.

21.

"Dearer to me is the lov'd hour of morn,

Than kingly titles, or than kingly power,

Than all the honours of a golden crown,
The glittering pageants of the heartless hour:
The sheep-bell tinkling in the distant fold,

The lowing herds, in yonder greensward vale,

The shepherd's pipe, who seated, I behold,

Near yonder water-fall, that murmurs through the glade."