Imatges de pÓgina

And following slower, in explosion vast,
The thunder raises his tremendous voice.

At first heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes
And rolls it's awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds; till over head a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping æther in a blaze:
Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heav'n and earth.

Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought:

And yet not always on the guilty head
Descends the fated flash.-Young Celadon
And his Amelia were a matchless pair;
With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace;
The same, distinguish'd by their sex alone:
Hers the mild lustre of the blooming morn
And his the radiance of the risen day.

They lov'd; but such their guiltless passion was,
As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart
Of innocence, and undissembling truth,

'Twas friendship, heighten'd by the mutual wish;
Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all
To love, each was to each a dearer self;
Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power
Of giving joy. Alone, amid the shades,
Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'd
The rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart,
Or sigh'd, and look'd unutterable things.

So pass'd their life, a clear united stream,
By care unruffled; till, in evil hour,
The tempest caught them on the tender walk,
Heedless how far, and where it's mazes stray'd,
While, with each other blest, creative love
Still bade eternal Eden smile around.
Heavy with instant fate her bosom heav'd
Unwonted sighs; and stealing oft a look

Tow'rds the big gloom, on Celadon her eye
Fell tearful, wetting her disorder'd cheek.
In vain assuring love, and confidence

In Heav'n, repress'd her fear; it grew, and shook
Her frame near dissolution. He perceiv'd
Th' unequal conflict, and, as angels look
On dying saints, his eyes compassion shed,
With love illumin'd high. "Fear not," he said,
"Sweet innocence! thou stranger to offence
"And inward storm! He, who yon skies involves
"In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee
"With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft
"That wastes at midnight, or th' undreaded hour
"Of noon, flies harmless; and that very voice,
"Which thunders terrour through the guilty heart,
"With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine.
""Tis safety to be near thee sure, and thus

"To clasp perfection!" From his void embrace,
(Mysterious Heav'n!) that moment to the ground,
A blacken'd corse, was struck the beauteous maid.
But who can paint the lover as he stood,
Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life,
Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of wo?
So, faint resemblance! on the marble tomb,
The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands,
For ever silent, and for ever sad.




SOON as young reason dawn'd in Junio's breast,
His father sent him from these genial isles,
To where old Thames with conscious pride surveys
Green Eton, soft abode of every muse.
Each classic beauty he soon made his own;
And soon fam'd Isis saw him woo the nine,
On her inspiring banks. Love tun'd his song;
For fair Theana was his only theme,

Acasto's daughter, whom in early youth
He oft distinguish'd; and for whom he oft
Had clim'd the bending cocoa's airy height,
To rob it of it's nectar; which the maid,
When he presented, more nectareous deem'd.
The sweetest sappadillas oft he brought;
From him more sweet ripe sappadillas seem'd.
Nor had long absence yet effac'd her form;
Her charms still triumph'd o'er Britannia's fair.
One morn he met her in Sheen's royal walks;
Nor knew, till then, sweet Sheen contain'd his all.
His taste mature approv'd his infant choice.
In colour, form, expression, and in grace,
She shone all perfect; while each pleasing art,
And each soft virtue that the sex adorns,
Adorn'd the woman. My imperfect strain
Can ill describe the transports Junio fell
At this discov'ry; he declar'd his love;
She own'd his merit, nor refus'd his hand.
And shall not Hymen light his brightest torch
For this delighted pair! Ah, Junio knew
His sire detested his Theana's house!-
Thus duty, rev'ience, gratitude conspir'd
To check their happy union. He resolv'd
(And many a sigh that resolution cost)
Το pass the time, till death his sire remov'd,
In visiting old Europe's letter'd climes:
While she (and many a tear that parting drew)
Embark'd, reluctant, for her native isle.

Though learned, curious, and though noble bent
With each rare talent to adorn his mind,
His native land to serve; no joys he found.
Yet sprightly Gaul; yet Belgium, Saturn's reign;
Yet Greece, of old the seat of ev'ry muse,
Of freedom, courage; yet Ausonia's clime
His steps explor'd, where panting music's strains,
Where arts, where laws, (philosophy's best child,)
With rival beauties his attention claim'd
To his just judging, his instructed eye,
The all perfect Medicean Venus seem'd
A perfect semblance of his Indian fair:

But when she spoke of love, her voice surpass'd
The harmonious warblings of Italian song.

Twice one long year elaps'd, when letters came,
Which briefly told him of his father's death.
Afflicted filial, yet to Heav'n resign'd,

Soon he reach'd Albion, and as soon embark'd,
Eager to clasp the object of his love.

Blow, prosp'rous breezes; swiftly sail thou Po :
Swift sail'd the Po, and happy breezes blew.
In Biscay's stormy seas, an armed ship,
Of force superior, from loud Charante's wave
Clapp'd them on board. The frighted flying crew
The colours strike; when dauntless Junio, fir'd
With noble indignation, kill'd the chief,
Who on the bloody deck dealt slaughter round.
The Gauls retreat; the Britons loud huzza;
And touch'd with shame, with emulation stung,
So plied their cannon, plied their missile fires,
That soon in air the hapless Thund'rer blew.

Blow, prosp'rous breezes; swiftly sail thou Po:
May no more dang'rous fights retard thy way!
Soon Porto Santo's rocky heights they spy,
Like clouds dim rising in the distant sky.
Glad Eurus whistles, laugh the sportive crew
Each sail is set to catch the fav'ring gale,
While on the yard-arm the harpooner sits,
Strikes the boneta, or the shark ensnares.
The little nautilus, with purple pride
Expands his sails, and dances o'er the waves:
Small winged fishes on the shrouds alight;
And beauteous dolphins gently play around.

Though faster than the tropic bird they flew,
Oft Junio cried, "Ah! when shall we see land?”
Soon land they made; and now in thought he clasp'd
His Indian bride, and deem'd his toils o'erpaid.
She, no less anxious, ev'ry ev'ning walk'd
On the cool margin of the purple main,
Intent her Junio's vessel to descry.

One eye (faint calms for many a day had rag'd)
The winged demons of the tempest rose !
Thunder, and rain, and lightnings awful pow'r

She fled could innocence, could beauty claim
Exemption from the grave, the ethereal bolt,
That stretch'd her speechless, o'er her lovely head
Had innocently roll'd.

Meanwhile impatient Junio leap'd ashore,
Regardless of the demons of the storm.

Ah, youth! what woes, too great for man to bear,
Are ready to burst on thee? Urge not so
Thy flying courser. Soon Theana's porch
Receiv'd him; at his sight the ancient slaves
Affrighted shriek, and to the chamber point :-
Confounded, yet unknowing what they meant,
He enter'd hasty-

Ah! what a sight for one who lov'd so well!
All pale and cold, in ev'ry feature death,
Theana lay; and yet a glimpse of joy



Play'd on her face, while with faint fault'ring voice
She thus address'd the youth, whom yet she knew:
"Welcome, my Junio, to thy native shore!
"Thy sight repays this summons of
"Live, and live happy; sometimes think of me :
By night, by day, you still engag'd my care;
"And, next to God, you now my thoughts employ
Accept of this-My little all I give ;



"Would it were larger."-Nature could no more;
She look'd, embrac'd him, with a groan expir'd.
But say, what strains, what language can express
The thousand pangs, which tore the lover's breast
Upon her breathless corse himself he threw,
And to her clay cold lips, with trembling haste,
Ten thousand kisses gave. He strove to speak:
Nor words he found: he clasp'd her in his arms;
He sigh'd, he swoon'd, look'd up, and died away..

One grave contains this hapless, faithful pair;
And still the Cane-isles tell their matchless love!


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