Say, (for thine Isis yet recalls with pride The sober transports of a studious hour?— EPITAPH ON A YOUNG NAVAL OFFI CER, AN EVENING WALK IN BENGAL. DESIGNED FOR A TOMB IN A SEAPORT TOWN IN Come boldly on! no venomed snake NORTH WALES. SAILOR! if vigour nerve thy frame, Revere this stone that gives to fame The brave, the virtuous, and the young!—(5) For manly beauty decked his form, His bright eye beamed with mental power; Resistless as the winter storm, Yet mild as summer's mildest shower. In war's hoarse rage, in ocean's strife, Who sorrowing sent thee forth to sea; Has e'er thy tender fancy flown, Can shelter in so cool a brake: But thought on England's "good green wood?' When winds were strong and waves were high, And blessed beneath the palmy shade, Where, listening to the tempest's moan, Thy sisters heaved the anxious sigh? Or, in the darkest hour of dread, Mid war's wild din, and ocean's swell, Hast mourned a hero brother dead, And did that brother love thee well? Then pity those whose sorrows flow In vain o'er Shipley's empty grave!-Sailor, thou weep'st:-Indulge thy wo; Such tears will not disgrace the brave!— Her hazel and her hawthorn glade, And breathed a prayer, (how oft in vain!) A truce to thought! the jackal's cry Retreating, chasing, sinking, soaring, The darkness of the copse exploring; While to this cooler air confest, The broad Dhatura bares her breast, Of fragrant scent, and virgin white, A pearl around the locks of night! Still as we pass in softened hum, Along the breezy valleys come The village song, the horn, the drum. Still as we pass, from bush and briar, The shrill cigala strikes his lyre; And, what is she whose liquid strain Thrills through yon copse of sugar-cane? I know that soul-entrancing swell! It is, it must be,-Philomel! Enough, enough, the rustling trees Announce a shower upon the breeze,— The flashes of the summer sky Assume a deeper, ruddier dye; Yon lamp that trembles on the stream, From forth our cabin sheds its beam; And we must early sleep to find Betimes the morning's healthy wind. But O! with thankful hearts confess, Ev'n here there may be happiness; And HE, the bounteous Sire, has given His peace on earth, his hope of heaven! LINES WRITTEN TO HIS WIFE, WHILE ON A VISIT TO UPPER India. If thou wert by my side, my love! Listening the nightingale! If thou, my love! wert by my side, I miss thee at the dawning gray, I miss thee when by Gunga's stream But most beneath the lamp's pale beam, I miss thee from my side. I spread my books, my pencil try, But when of morn and eve the star I feel, though thou art distant far, Then on! Then on! where duty leads, My course be onward still, That course, nor Delhi's kingly gates, For sweet the bliss us both awaits, Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say, But never were hearts so light and gay, HAPPINESS. ONE morning in the month of May, Can God, I thought, the just, the great, The boon of happiness? Tell me, ye woods, ye smiling plains, In which of nature's wide domains The birds wild carolled over head, I questioned love, whose early ray, I questioned friendship: Friendship sighed, I asked if vice could bliss bestow? I sought of feeling, if her skill Could sooth the wounded breast; I questioned virtue: virtue sighed, I questioned death-the grisly shade Relaxed his brow severe And "I am happiness," he said, "If Virtue guides thee here." When fettered by a viewless chain, We turn and gaze, and turn again, Oh! death were mercy to the pain Of them that bid farewell! 2 THE MOONLIGHT MARCH. I SEE them on their winding way, Again, again, the pealing drum, The clashing horn-they come, they come; LINES. REFLECTED on the lake I love To see the stars of evening glow; So tranquil in the heavens above, So restless in the wave below. Thus heavenly hope is all serene, But earthly hope, how bright so e'er, Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene, As false and fleeting as 'tis fair. FAREWELL. WHEN eyes are beaming What never tongue might tell, When tears are streaming From their crystal cell; When hands are linked that dread to part, And heart is met by throbbing heart, Oh! bitter, bitter is the smar Of them that bid farewell! When hope is chidden That fain of bliss would tell, And love forbidden In the breast to dwell; VESPERS. GOD that madest Earth and Heaven, Darkness and light! Who the day for toil hast given, For rest the night! May thine angel guards defend us, Slumber sweet thy mercy send us, Holy dreams and hopes attend us, This livelong night! TO LIEUTENANT-GENERAL, SIR ROWLAND HILL, K. B. HILL! whose high daring with renewed success Hath cheered our tardy war, what time the cloud Of expectation, dark and comfortless, Hung on the mountains; and yon factious crowd Blasphemed their country's valour, babbling loud! Then was thine arm revealed, to whose young might, By Toulon's leaguered wall, the fiercest bowed Whom Egypt honoured, and the dubious fight Of sad Corunna's winter, and more bright Douro, and Talavera's gory bays; Wise, modest, brave, in danger foremost found.-O still, young warrior, may thy toil-earned praise, With England's love, and England's honour crowned, Gild with delight thy Father's latter days! IMITATION OF AN ODE BY KOOD. RUT, IN HINDOOSTANEE. AMBITION's voice was in mine ear, she whispered yesterday, "How goodly is the land of Room,(9) how wide the Russian sway! How blest to conquer either realm, and dwell through life to come, Lulled by the harp's melodious string, cheered by the northern drum!" But Wisdom heard; "O youth," she said, “in passion's fetter tied, O come and see a sight with me shall cure thee of thy pride!" She led me to a lonely dell, a sad and shady ground, Where many an ancient sepulchre gleamed in the moonshine round. And "Here Secunder (10) sleeps," she cried ;-him to content himself with the composition of an"this is his rival's stone; other. Of this diffidence his friends have reason And here the mighty chief reclines who reared the to complain, as it suppressed some elegant lines Median throne.(11) of his own on the same occasion. Inquire of these, doth aught of all their ancient pomp remain, Save late regret, and bitter tears for ever, and in vain? Return, return, and in thy heart engraven keep my lore; The lesser wealth, the lighter load,-small blame betides the poor." NOTES. Note 1, page 38, col. 2. Siwah. Oasis. Sennaar.-Meroe. Note 2, page 38, col. 2. The black tribes whom Bruce considers as the aboriginal Nubians, are so called. For their gigantic stature, and their custom of ornamenting themselves and their houses with the spoils of the elephant, see the account he gives of the person and residence of one of their chiefs whom he visited on his departure from Ras el Feel. Note 3, page 38, col. 2. Emeralds. The emerald, or whatever the ancients dignified by the name of smaragdus, is said to have been found in great quantities in the mountain now called Gebul Zumrud (the mount of emeralds.) Note 4, page 39, col. 1. Elim's well. It is interesting to observe with what pleasure and minuteness Moses, amid the Arabian wilderness, enumerates the "twelve wells of water," and the "threescore and ten palm-trees," of Elim. Note 5, page 39, col. 2. Ye viewless guardians of these sacred shades. These lines were spoken (as is the custom of the university on the installation of a new chancellor) by a young nobleman, whose diffidence induced Note 6, page 40, col. 1. The brave, the virtuous, and the young. Captain Conway Shipley, third son to the dean of St. Asaph, perished in an attempt to cut out an enemy's vessel from the Tagus with the boats of his majesty's frigate La Nymphe, April 22, 1808, in the 26th year of his age, and after nearly sixteen years of actual service; distinguished by every quality both of heart and head which could adorn a man or an officer. Admiral Sir Charles Cotton, and the captains of his fleet, have since erected a monument to his memory in the neighbourhood of Fort St. Julian. Note 7, page 40, col. 2. On Gunga's breast. These lines were written at a small village on the banks of the Ganges, which he was ascending in a pinnace, on his first visitation of his diocese, in August, 1824. Note 8, page 40, col. 2. The bird of hundred dyes. "The Mucharunga-many coloured. I learned at Dacca, that while we were at peace with the Burmans, many traders used to go over all the tiful birds for the Golden Zennanah; at Ummeraeastern provinces of Bengal, buying up these beaupoora it was said that they were sometimes worth a gold mohur each." Note 9, page 42, col. 2. The oriental name of the Turkish Empire. Alexander the Great. Note 11, page 43, col. 1. The mighty Chief who reared the Median throne. The founder of the Median throne was KyKaoos, or Deiioces. THE END OF HEBER'S POEMS. |