Imatges de pÓgina


Warrington Academy.

MARK where its simple front yon mansion


The nursery of men for future years!

Here callow chiefs and embryo statesmen lie,
And unfledg'd poets short excursions try:
While Mersey's gentle current, which too long
By Fame neglected, and unknown to Song,
Between his rushy banks, (no poet's theme)
Had crept inglorious, like a vulgar stream,
Reflects th' ascending seats with conscious pride,
And dares to emulate a classic tide.

Soft music breathes along each op'ning shade,
And sooths the dashing of his rough cascade.
With mystic lines his sands are figur'd o'er,
And circles trac'd upon the letter'd shore.
Beneath his willows rove th' inquiring youth,
And court the fair majectic form of Truth.
Here nature opens all her secret springs,

And heav'n-born science plumes her eagle-wings:
Too long had bigot Rage with malice swell'd,
Crush'd her strong pinions, and her flight with-

Too long to check her ardent progress strove:
So writhes the serpent round the bird of Jove,

on her flight, restrains her tow'ring wing,
Twists its dark folds, and points its venom'd sting.
Yet still (if aught aright the muse divine)
Her rising pride shall mock the vain design;
On sounding pinions yet áloft shall soar,
And thro' the azure deep unravell'd paths explore.
Where Science smiles, the muses join the train;
And gentlest arts and purest manners reign.
Ye generous youth, who love the studied shade!
How rich a field is to your hopes display'd!
Knowledge to you unlocks the classic page;
And virtue blossoms for a better age.

Oh golden days! oh bright unvalued hours! What bliss (did ye but know that bliss) were yours?

With richest stores your glowing bosoms fraught,
Perception quick, and luxury of thought;
The high designs that heave the labʼring soul,
Panting for fame, impatient of controul:
And fond enthusiastic thought that feeds
On pictur'd tales of vast heroic deeds:
And quick affections, kindling into flame
At virtue's, or their country's honour'd name:
And spirits light, to every joy in tune;
And Friendship, ardent as a summer's noon;
And generous scorn of vice's venal tribe;
And proud disdain of interest's sordid bribe;
And conscious honour's quick instinctive sense;
And smiles unforc'd and easy confidence,
And vivid fancy; and clear simple truth;
And all the mental bloom of vernal youth.
How bright the scene to fancy's eye appears,
Thro' the long perspective of distant years;
When this, this little group their country calls
From academic shade and learned halls,
To fix her laws, her spirit to sustain
And light up glory thro' her wide domain !
Their various tastes in different arts display'd,
Like temper'd harmony of light and shade,
With friendly union în one mass shall blend,
And this adorn the state, and that defend,
These the sequester'd shade shall cheaply please,
With learned labour and inglorious ease:
While those, impell'd by some resistless force,
O'er seas and rocks shall urge their vent'rous


Rich fruits matur'd by glowing suns behold,
And china's groves of vegetable gold;
From every land the various harvest spoil,
And bear the tribute to their native soil:
But tell each land (while every toil they share,
Firm to sustain, and resolute to dare,)
Man is the nobler growth our realms supply,

And Souls are ripen'd in our northern sky.
Some pensive creep along the shelly shore,
Unfold the silky texture of a flower,

With sharpen'd eyes inspect an hornet's sting,
And all the wonders of an insect's wing.

Some trace with curious search the hidden cause
Of Nature's changes, and her various laws:
Untwist her beauteous web, disrobe her charms,
And hunt her to her elemental forms:

Or prove what hidden powers in herbs are found
To quench disease, and cool the burning wound;
With cordial drops the fainting head sustain,
Call back the flitting soul, and still the throbs of

The patriot passion that shall strongly feel,
Ardent and glowing with undaunted zeal;
With lips of fire shall plead his country's cause,
And vindicate the majesty of laws.

This, cloth'd with Britain's thunder, spread alarms
Thro' the wide earth, and shake the pole with arms.
That, to the sounding lyre, his deeds rehearse,
Enshrine his name in some immortal verse:
To long posterity his praise consign,
And pay a life of hardships by a line.
While others, consecrate to higher aims,
Whose hallow'd bosoms glow with purer
Love in their heart, persuasion in their tongue,
With words of peace shall charm the list'ning


Draw the dread veil that wraps th' eternal throne, And launch our souls into the bright unknown. MRS. BARBAULD..



Ode to Content.

THOU, the Nymph with placid eye! O seldom found, yet ever nigh!

Receive my temperate vow;

Not all the storms that shake the pole

Can e'er disturb thy halcyon soul,
And smooth unalter'd brow.

O come, in simplest vest array'd,
With all thy sober cheer display'd,
To bless my longing sight;
Thy mien compos'd, thy even pace,
Thy meek regard, thy matron grace,
And chaste subdu'd delight.

No more by varying passions beat,
O gently guide my pilgrim feet
To find thy hermit cell;
Where in some pure and equal sky
Beneath thy soft indulgent eye

The modest virtues dwell.

Simplicity in Attic vest,

And Innocence with candid breast,
And clear undaunted eye;

And Hope, who points to distant years,
Fair op'ning thro' this vale of tears
A vista to the sky.

There health, thro' whose calm bosom glide
The temperate joys in even tide,

That rarely ebb or flow;
And Patience there, thy sister meek,
Presents her mild, unvarying cheek
To meet the offer'd blow.

Her influence taught the Phrygian sage
A tyrant master's wanton rage

With settled smiles to meet;
Inur'd to toil and bitter bread,
He bow'd his meek submitted head,
And kiss'd thy sainted feet.

But thou, oh Nymph retir'd and coy!
In what brown hamlet dost thou joy
To tell thy tender tale?

The lowliest children of the ground,
Moss-rose and violet blossom round,
And lily of the vale.

0 say what soft propitious hour
I best may chuse to hail thy power
And court thy gentle sway?
When Autumn, friendly to the
Shall thy own modest tints diffuse,
And shed thy milder day.


When Eve, her dewy star beneath,.
Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,
And every storm is laid;

If such an hour was e'er thy choice,
Oft let me hear thy soothing voice
Low whispering through the shade.



Ode to Fear.

THOU, to whom the world unknown
With all its shadowy shapes is shown;
Who seest appall'd th' unreal scene,
While Fancy lifts the veil between:
Ah Fearah frantic Fear!

I see, I see thee near.

I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye!
Like thee I start, like thee disorder'd fly;
For lo, what monsters in thy train appear!
Danger, whose limbs of giant mould
What mortal eye can fix'd behold?
Who stalks his round, an hideous form,
Howling amidst the midnight storm,
Or throws him on the ridgy steep
Of some loose hanging rock to sleep:
And with him thousand phantoms join'd,

prompt to deeds accurs'd the mind:
And those, the fiends, who near allied,
O'er Nature's wounds, and wrecks preside;
While Vengeance, in the lurid air,
Lifts her red arm, expos'd and bare:
On whom that ravening brood of fate,
Who lap the blood of Sorrow, wait;
Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see,

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