That roam the western wilds, and oft carouse In kindred gore, a feller picture show'd Than this illumin'd, haughty race, elate With freedom, fame and intellectual rank, Above the Grecian and Barbarie name. Not a less perilous effect pursu'd This over-weening spirit; when they chose To cultivate their reason, and to learn Minerva's lessons from their sages' voice, The voice of stern philosophy, no less Was tun'd to adulation, than the strains Of temporizing demagogues and bards: Their taste fastidious long'd for nectar'd sweets, Fine theories, by artful sophistry
Disguis'd, and florid fictions to allure
Their steps, that scorn'd the bare and beaten road Of truth. Not yet the heavenly Day-spring rose That lights the world: And Reason's glimm'ring
His substitute was oft abus'd and scorn'd,
Hence (to allure and court the madding crowd) Not in the search of truth, but in pursuit Of fame, their sages trim'd the midnight lamp. Each sophist seem'd ambitious to explore The sovereign good; all seemed, but were not all Her votaries sincere. By some the light Of truth eternal seem'd obscur'd, and lost * In endless disputation, to allure The list'ning multitude with endless trains Of sophistry, till even the mighty power Of HIM who governs all below, was call'd In question. Some to pleasure's flowery path Their sensual pupillage beguil'd; the rest
* Platonists and Sceptics.
By Zeno's lore elated, felt their pride Expand to wild extravagance; the cause The same in all; for every sage was bent To please with gaudy forms, or smooth conceits The general car, ambitious, each from each To gain the palm of eloquence, not truth, And rise triumphant o'er the rival school. Thus errour oft was veil'd in specious mask Of beauty, not her own, and led the mind By shews of seeming good, and seeming fair, Far from her destination. Reason hence Due comprehension gain'd, by exercise Strength'ned, tho' much deprav'd; but the fine
Of public honour glow'd no more, by vice, By sordid interest, or by sensual joy
Debas'd. Oh happier far, when from the bard Tho' spoil'd by fiction, tho' by flattery
Disguis'd, they learn'd some useful truths! at least The power of providence they then confess'd; In human things they saw the hand of heaven Reaching to this sublunar scene. The hope Of palins elysian, or the wholesome dread Of penal retribution, o'er their minds
Still a faint influence held. But now, their chiefs Were Atheists; and by private views alone Directed, let the laws relax, or bound Their vassalage in stricter bonds, depraved And by corruption broken to the chain.
Then the sly + Macedonian took his time, And like the fabled Jove, with showers of gold, Thro' the proud fort of public honour won His easy way. For years on years they pin'd
Beneath his yoke and his successors, fallen, Fallen from their haughty rank, yet haughty still, Tho' parasites; elate in thought, they scorn'd The victor whom they flatter'd. Still their schools Maintained the palm of eloquence, their bards Unrivall'd trode the comic stage, tho' shorn Of their first honours-still in stratagems Of wordy war they gloried, tho' the shield The dinted shield of Marathon was hung On high, and mad Bellona's trump was mute. Thus while that liberal spirit, which oppos'd Tyrannic power, was nurtur'd, while the range Of reason was enlarg'd, the lurking pest Still min'd within, and blasted all their views; For still the ONE THING NEEDFUL was away, That over-weening spirit to subdue,
Which oft suggested they were more than men When they were less; for still beyond, or short Of the right mark they aim'd, of that best guide Which clears the mental eye, bereft.-Tho' far Their glory spread; tho' high their spirit flam'd; Tho' intellectual fame, was all their own, The Muse's charm, and all the various arts That sweeten or embellish life; the GUIDE Of life itself was wanting, to restrain Their passions, and their habitudes to form To virtuous lore. This failing, down they sunk, Down, with accelerated force! Even then When to its highest pitch their glory swell'd, 'Twas but the false reflection of a day; Or, like th' embroidery of yon western clouds, Beryl and ruby, when the slanting beam Of Sol, fast journeying to the nether climes, The proud pavilion of mild Eve adorns
With fading glories.-Is it then in fate This gravitation of all human things From bad to worse, before they re-ascend? Must they, still varying like the seasons, change From summer's livery to the faded vest
Of autumn, and the naked majesty
Of winter, ere the sun returning, climbs
The vernal signs again? And must the mind Lie fallow thus for ages, ere the seeds
Of intellect and sentimental worth
Be sown? And oh! what countless weeds disgrace The noble crop! A wilderness of tares Marring the bounteous harvest! Say, is this The lot of man ?-Oh let not thoughtless men Repine! This constitution, tho' severe It seems, by sovereign wisdom was bestow'd, And bears the marks of sovereign goodness still. We were not fix'd in this sublunar vale, This twilight of the intellectual world, To walk by Reason's pure abstracted light, And guide our wand'ring steps by her strict rule; Where, at the best she deals a clouded beam. Our progress here, without one devious turn, At her behest to guide, is not by man Attainable. The sight of other's harm, The pungent memory of our own, engraves The moral lesson deeper in our hearts Than pure abstracted reason ere could pierce. The cause is obvious-tho' the intellect By Reason's rigid precepts be inform❜d, Like bright Arcturus rising, clear, and cold, It lights, but fails to warm us. Torpid, still, And deep entranc'd, the slumb'ring mind remains, Tho' seemingly awake, with eyes unseal'd,
Like * Dante's prisoners in the wintry gulph Below, beneath the bitter blast reclin'd, Whose beamless eye-balls glare with frozen tears. But when example wakes our sympathy, And bids the current of our feelings flow, Or, for our own, or others' numerous ills, It mixes kindly with our inmost souls; Kindles our sonsibility, awakes
· Our moral feelings, and with prudence join'd, Cements, and forms, and to consistence brings Benevolence, else vague, and apt to fleet Away, like shadows of a morning beam. Besides, it gives our intellectual powers More scope for action, with attention deep To recognize past errors, and to spy Where first the unalarming speck began, That ripen'd to disease: the narrow vent Whose imperceptible small breach let in The tumbling deluge, ere the flaw was fear'd. Hence, by analogy we learn to guide, Or the republic, or our home concerns, With better caution arm'd, to shun the shelves, And lurking shoals that wreck'd our hopes before. The various calls of life, the calls of state Forbid delay, and scarcely leave us time For due deliberation. We must act Often on dubious views: when reason fails Our best guide is experience. This, tho' late, Points out the imperfection of our plans, Bids us unravel all our former work, And, like Penelope, begin anew.
« ZurückWeiter » |