He drank; and straight a bright celestial beam
Before his eyes display'd a dazzling gleam;
Myriads of airy shapes around him gaz'd;
Some prais'd his wisdom, some his courage prais'd;
Then o'er his limbs a starry robe they spread,
And plac'd a crown of diamonds on his head.
His aged guide was gone, and in his place
Stood a fair cherub flush'd with rosy grace;
Who, smiling, spake: Here ever wilt thou rest,
Admir'd, belov'd, our brother and our guest;
So all shall end, whom vice can charm no more
With the gay follies of that perilous shore.
See yon immortal towers their gates unfold,
With rubies flaming, and no earthly gold!
There joys, before unknown, thy steps invite ;
Bliss without care, and morn without a night.
But now farewell! my duty calls me hence;
Some injur❜d mortal asks my just defence.
To yon pernicious island I repair,
Swift as a star.' He speaks, and melts in air.
The youth o'er walks of jasper takes his flight; And bounds and blazes in eternal light.
EXTRACTED FROM FALCONER'S POEM OF
A SHIP from Egypt, o'er the deep impell'd
By guiding winds, her course for Venice held;
Of fam'd Britannia were the gallant crew,
And from that Isle her name the vessel drew.
Thrice had the sun, to rule the varying year,
Across th' equator roll'd his flaming sphere,
Since last the vessel spread her ample sail
From Albion's coast, obsequious to the gale.
She, o'er the spacious flood, from shore to shore,
Unwearying wafted her commercial store;
The richest ports of Afric she had view'd,
Thence to fair Italy her course pursu'd ;
Had left behind Trinacria's burning isle,
And visited the margin of the Nile :
And now, that winter deepens round the pole,
The circling voyage hastens to its goal;
They, blind to Fate's inevitable law,
No dark event to blast their hope foresaw;
But from gay Venice soon expect to steer
For Britain's coast, and dread no perils near ;
A thousand tender thoughts their souls employ,
That fondly dance to scenes of future joy.
Thus time elaps'd, while o'er the pathless tide
Their ship thro' Grecian seas the pilots guide.
Occasion call'd to touch at Candia's shore,
Which, blest with favouring winds, they soon explore;
The haven enter, borne before the gale,
Dispatch their commerce, and prepare to sail.
Eternal powers! what ruins from afar Mark the fell track of desolating war!
Here arts, and commerce, with auspicious reign,
Once breath'd sweet influence on the happy plain ;
While o'er the lawn, with dance and festive song,
Young Pleasure led the jocund hours along:
luxuriance Ceres too was seen
To crown the vallies with eternal green :
For wealth, for valour, courted and revered,
What Albion is, fair Candia then appear'd.
Ah! who the flight of ages can revoke ?
The free-born spirit of her sons is broke;
They bow to Ottoman's imperious yoke :
No longer Fame the drooping heart inspires,
For rude oppression quench'd its genial fires:
But still her fields, with golden harvests crown'd,
Supply the barren shores of Greece around.
What pale distress afflicts those wretched isles!
There hope ne'er dawns, and pleasure never smiles:
The vassal wretch obsequious drags his chain,
And hears his famish'd babes lament in vain.
These eyes have seen the dull reluctant soil
A seventh year scorn the weary labourer's toil.
No blooming Venus, on the desert shore,
Now views, with triumph, captive gods adore;
No lovely Helens now, with fatal charms,
Call forth th' avenging chiefs of Greece to arms;
No fair Penelopes enchant the eye,
For whom contending kings are proud to die':
Here sullen beauty sheds a twilight ray,
While sorrow bids her vernal bloom decay:
Those charms, so long renown'd in classic strains,
Had dimly shone on Albion's happier plains!
Now, in the southern hemisphere, the sun Thro' the bright Virgin, and the Scales, had run; And on th' Ecliptic wheel'd his winding way, 'Till the fierce Scorpion felt his flaming ray. The ship was moor'd beside the wave-worn strand; Four days her anchors bite the golden sand;
For sickening vapours lull'd the air to sleep,
And not a breeze awakes the silent deep.
This, when th' autumnal equinox is o'er,
And Phoebus in the north declines no more,
The watchful mariner, whom heaven informs,
Oft deems the prelude of approaching storms.
True to his trust when sacred duty calls,
No brooding storm the master's soul appals;
Th' advancing season warns him to the main,
A captive, fetter'd to the oar of gain:
His anxious heart, impatient of delay,
Expects the winds to sail from Candia's bay;
Determin'd, from whatever point they rise,
To trust his fortune to the seas and skies.
O'er the gay vessel, and her daring band, Experienc'd Albert held the chief command: Tho' train'd in boisterous elements, his mind Was yet by soft humanity refin'd: Each joy of wedded love at home he knew ; Aboard, confest the father of his crew! The second powers and office Rodmond bore; A hardy son of England's farthest shore, Where bleak Northumbria pours her savage train In sable squadrons o'er the northern main ; That, with her pitchy entrails stor❜d, resort, A sooty tribe, to fair Augusta's port.
|