That you, who rhyme and rhymsters spurn all,
In verse should bid me write my journal,
At first excited speculation,
Till after solemn cogitation,
And much conjecture spent in vain,
The cause appear'd distinct and plain.
Your friend, and may I boast her mine,
LOUISA decks the Muses' shrine:
Late on their altars I survey'd
A bright but harmless weapon laid;
The gift, inscrib'd with NANCY's praise,
Innoxious gleam'd thro' twining bays,
And shew'd how kind and true that heart
Where NANCY claims so great a part *.
You, fondly partial, wish to cheer
With music wild, LOUISA's ear;
And vainly think my trembling hand
Can still that rustic lyre command,
Which once, when youth and fancy bloom'd,
Through Inchnacardoch's caves presum'd
To call sweet echo to my aid,
And every wood-nymph of the shade,
And every Naiad of the waves,
Where Ness romantic mountains laves;
* Allusive to a few elegant lines sent by the one lady to the
other, with the present of a fruit-knife.
To tell what joys my soul possesst,
When you and Nature fir'd breast:
When in the Penseroso grot *,
The world and all its cares forgot,
We trac'd the tuneful page sublime,
Beyond the limits fix'd to time :—
But cease!-no more, this retrospection
Will end, though soothing, in dejection.
To common life you now must turn ye,
And view it in my lonely journey:
go alone I will not choose,
And therefore must invoke the Muse;
Nor fear the tuneful invocation
Should interrupt the wise narration;
Though NANCY owns that long possession
Confirms my right to dear digression.
Come Muse, "As in the elder time,
"Warm, energic, chaste, sublime,"
Now, when my Joseph green is on†,
And I just hastening to be gone,
Oh stray not by Illyssus' stream,
Nor in the shades of Tempe dream;
Nor, lingering near proud Ida's rocks,
With laurels deck thy graceful locks:
In Scotland a lady's travelling great-coat is sometimes
Thy robe in easy folds to bind,
Or spread thy floating train behind,
Or scatter odours on thy hair,
Were here a vain and needless care:
No Grecian graces I require,
Oh! wherefore shine where none admire!
A kind companion of my way,
To cheat with song the lingering day,
Is all I ask, and NANCY's praise,
The only meed that crowns my lays :
Then, let us quietly jog along,
Unseen thy form! unheard my song!
And more, thy beauties to disguise,
From vulgar ears, and curious eyes,
No more with charms immortal blooming,
But yon postilion's form assuming ;
His hat your waving locks shall hide,
His coat your bosom's snowy pride:
Your sandals for his boots exchanging,
My motley baggage neatly ranging,
Like PALLAS, when disguis'd as MENTOR,
You'll hollow with the lungs of STENTOR.
Yet stay, 'sweet Muse! may I presume,
Before we quit yon peaceful dome,
Thy genuine pow'r should aid my lyre :
Tho' gratitude the strain inspire,
Yet ah, how feeble proves the line,
To paint a heart so warm as mine!
TO GEORGE'S SQUARE my view I bend,
Where health and virtue bless my
friend:
Whose love, matur'd by twenty years,
In all its pristine bloom appears:
Unchang'd by time, by wealth unspoil'd,
"meek Nature's child;"
With brow serene,
With modest firmness moves along,
Regardless of the fickle throng,
Who, pois'd on Fortune's giddy wheel,
Forget alike to think and feel;
The various duties skill'd to blend,
Of sister, daughter, mother, Friend;
The kind companion, tender wife,
Form'd to endear and sweeten life:
To her no selfish joy is known,
She lives for other's good alone,
And knows no care, no wish, no fear,
That saints and angels might not hear *.
O thou, to whom indulgent heaven
Has the superior blessing given,
To cherish soft this modest flow'r,
To cheer thy eye, and deck thy bow'r ;
Though on thy placid easy mien,
No purse-proud insolence is seen,
Though gentlest manners, all allow,
Light up thy looks, and smoothe thy brow;
Though none, the public voice can tell,
In equanimity excel,
Be proud, be vain, nay boast of BELL;
And henceforth plead in thy excuse,
Thou hast permission from the Muse.
Oh could the willing Muse bring forth
Her secret stores of hidden worth,
The truth unstain'd, the taste refin'd,
And native elegance of mind!
The various blushing graces known,
To thee, to me, and JANE alone;
Esteem to homage they'd improve,
And approbation raise to love:
While all th' admiring world should see
Our friend with eyes like JANE and me.
Dear JANE, it is from thy kind breast,
With every warm affection blest,
Thy generous heart, that knows no guile,
As soft and true as friendship's smile,
That I expect rewards of praise
For singing thus in humble lays,
That blushing worth, so shily veil'd,
And from th' intrusive gaze conceal'd.
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