Sidor som bilder

In vain the cords and axes were prepared, His lovely daughter left without a friend, For now th' audacious seas insult the yard; Her innocence 10 succour and defend ; High o'er the ship they throw a horrid shade, By youth and indigence set forth a prey And o'er her burst in terrible cascade.

To lawless guilt, that Matters to betray.Uplifted on the surge, to heaven she flies,

While these reflections rack his feeling mind, Her shatter'd top half-buried in the skies, Rodmond, who hung beside, his grasp resign'd; Then headlong plunging thunders on the ground, And, as the tumbling waters o'er him rollid, Earth groans ! air trembles ! and the deeps resound: His outstretch'd arms the master's legs enfoldHer giant bulk the dread concussion feels, Sad Albert feels the dissolution near, And quivering with the wound, in torment reels : And strives in vain his setter'd limbs to clear; So reels, convulsed with agonizing throes, For Death bids every clenching joint adhere. The bleeding bull beneath the murderer's blows. All faint, to heaven he throws his dying eyes. Again she plunges : hark! a second shock And “O protect my wife and child !” he cries : Tears her strong bottom on the marble rock: The gushing stream rolls back th' unfinish'd Down on the vale of Death, with dismal cries,

sound! The fated victims shuddering roll their eyes, He gasps ! he dies! and tumbles to the ground! In wild despair ; while yet another stroke,

Five only left of all the perish'd throng, With deep convulsion, rends the solid oak; Yet ride the pine which shoreward drives along; Till like the mine, in whose infernal cell

With these Arion still his hold secures, The lurking demons of destruction dwell,

And all th' assaults of hostile waves endures. At length asunder torn, her frame divides : O'er the dire prospect as for life he strives, And crashing spreads in ruin o'er the tides. He looks if poor Palemon yet survives. O were it mine with tuneful Maro's art

“Ah, wherefore, trusting to unequal art, To wake to sympathy the feeling heart,

Didst thou incautious! from the wreck depart? Like him the smooth and mournful verse to dress Alas! these rocks all human skill defy, In all the pomp of exquisite distress!

Who strikes them once beyond relief must die ; Then too severely taught by cruel Fate,

And, now, sore wounded, thou perhaps art rost To share in all the perils I relate,

On these, or in some oozy cavern lost!" Then might I, with unrivall’d strains, deplore Thus thought Arion, anxious gazing round, Th' impervious horrors of a leeward shore. In vain, his eyes no more Palemon found.

As o'er the surge, the stooping mainmast hung, The demons of destruction hover nigh; Still on the rigging thirty seamen clung;

And thick their mortal shafts commission d fly : Some, struggling, on a broken crag were cast, And now a breaking surge, with forceful sway, And there by oozy tangles grappled fast :

Two next Arion furious tears away; Awile they bore th' o'erwhelming billow's rage, Hurl'd on the crags, behold, they gasp! thoy Unequal combat with their fate to wage;

bleed! Till all benumb'd and feeble they forego

And groaning, cling upon th'illusive weed ;Their slippery hold, and sink to shades below. Another billow burst in boundless roar! Some, from the main-yardarm impetuous thrown, Arion sinks ! and Memory views no more ! On marble ridges die without a groan.

Ah, total night and horror here preside! Three, with Palemon, on their skill depend, My stunn'd ear tingles to the whizzing tide! And from the wreck on oars and rafts descend. It is the funeral knell ; and gliding near, Now on the mountain-wave on high they ride, Methinks the phantoms of the dead appear! Then downward plunge beneath th' involving tide;

But lo! emerging from the watery grave, Till one, who seems in agony to strive,

Again they float incumbent on the wave! The whirling breakers heave on shore alive : Again the dismal prospect opens round, The rest a speedier end of anguish knew, The wreck, the shores, the dying, and the drown'd. And prest the stony beach a lifeless crew. And see! enfeebled by repeated shocks,

Next, О unhappy chief! th' eternal doom Those two who scramble on th' adjacent rocks, Of Heaven decreed thee to the briny tomb! Their faithless hold no longer can retain, What scenes of misery torment thy view! They sink o'erwhelm'd, and never rise again! What painful struggles of thy dying crew!

Two, with Arion, yet the mast upbore, Thy perish'd hopes all buried in the flood, That now above the ridges reach'd the shore : O'erspread with corses ! red with human blood! Still trembling to descend, they downward gaze So, pierced with anguish, hoary Priam gazed, With horror pale, and torpid with amaze : When Troy's imperial domes in ruin blazed ; The floods recoil ! the ground appears below! While he, severest sorrow doom'd to feel,

And life's faint embers now rekindling glow; Expired beneath the victor's murdering steel. A while they wait th' exhausted waves' retreat, Thus with his helpless partners to the last, Then climb slow up the beach with hands and Sad refuge! Albert hugs the floating mast;

feet. His soul could yet sustain this mortal blow, O Heaven! deliver'd by whose sovereign hand, But droops, alas ! beneath superior wo!

Still on the brink of hell they shuddering stand, For now soft nature's sympathetic chain

Receive the languid incense they bestow, Tugs at his yearning heart with powerful strain ; That damp with death appears not yet to glow. His faithful wife for ever doom'd to mourn To Thee each soul the warm oblation pays, For him, alas! who never shall return;

With trembling ardour of unequal praise. To black Adversity's approach exposed,

In every heart dismay with wonder strives, With want and hardships unforeseen enclosed : And hope the sicken'd spark of life revives ;

Iler magic powers their exiled health restore, With force severe endeavours to control
Till horror and despair are felt no more.

The noblest passions that inspire the soul.
A troop of Grecians who inhabit nigh,

But, O thou sacred Power! whose law connects And oft these perils of the deep descry,

Th' eternal chain of causes and effects, Roused by the blustering tempest of the night, Let not thy chastening ministers of rage Anxious had climbid Colonna's neighbouring Afflict with sharp remorse his feeble age! height;

And you, Arion! who with these the last When gazing downward on th' adjacent flood, Of all our crew survive the shipwreck pastFull to their view the scene of ruin stood, Ah! cease to mourn! those friendly tears restrain; The surf with mangled bodies strew'd around, Nor give my dying moments keener pain! And those yet breathing on the sea-wash'd ground! Since Heaven may soon thy wandering steps reThough lost to science and the nobler arts,

store, Yet Nature's lore inform'd their feeling hearts ; When parted, hence, to England's distant shore, Straight down the vale with hastening steps they Shouldst thou th' unwilling messenger of Fate hied,

To him the tragic story first relate, Th’unhappy sufferers to assist and guide. O! friendship’s generous ardour then suppress,

Meanwhile those three escaped beneath explore | Nor hint the fatal cause of my distress ; The first adventurous youth who reach'd the shore; Nor let each horrid incident sustain Panting, with eyes averted from the day, The lengthen’d tale to aggravate his pain. Prone, helpless on the tangled beach he lay Ah! then remember well my last request, It is Palemon ;-0 what tumults roll

For her who reigns for ever in my breast; With hope and terror in Arion's soul!

Yet let him prove a father and a friend, If yet unhurt he lives again to view

The helpless maid to succour and desend. His friend, and this sole remnant of our crew! Say, I this shit implored with parting breath With us to travel through this foreign zone, So Heaven befriend him at his hour of death! And share the future good or ill-unknown! But O, to lovely Anna shouldst thou tell Arion thus : but ah! sad doom of Fate!

What dire untimely end thy friend befell, That bleeding Memory sorrows to relate :

Draw o'er the dismal scene soft Pity's veil; While yet afloat, on some resisting rock

And lightly touch the lamentable tale: His ribs were dash'd, and fractured with the shock : Say that my love, inviolably true, Heart-piercing sight! those cheeks, so late array'd No change, no diminution ever knew ; In beauty's bloom, are pale, with mortal shade! Lo! her bright image pendant on my neck, Distilling blood his lovely breast o'erspread, Is all Palemon rescued from the wreck: And clogg'd the golden tresses of his head : Take it, and say, when panting in the wave, Nor yet the lungs by this pernicious stroke I struggled life and this alone to save! Were wounded, or the vocal organs broke.

" My soul, that fluttering hastens to be free, Down from his neck, with blazing gems array'd, Would yet a train of thoughts impart to thee; Thy image, lovely Anna, hung portray’d; But strives in vain ;, the chilling ice of Death Th' unconscious figure smiling all serene, Congeals my blood, and choaks the streain of Suspended in a golden chain was seen.

breath: Hadst thou, soft maiden ; in this hour of wo, Resign'd, she quits her comfortless abode, Beheld him writhing from the deadly blow, To course that long, unknown, eternal road. What force of art, what language could express O sacred source of ever-living light! Thine agony? thine exquisite distress ?

Conduct the weary wanderer in her flight! But thou, alas! art doom'd to weep in vain Direct her onward to that peaceful shore, For him thine eyes shall never see again! Where peril, pain, and death are felt no more! With dumb amazement pale, Arion gazed,

“ When thou some tale of hapless love shalt And cautiously the wounded youth upraised.

hear, Palemon then, with cruel pangs oppress’d, That steals from Pity's eye the melting tear, In faltering accents thus his friend address'd : or two chaste hearts by mutual passion join'd

"O rescued from destruction late so nigh, To absence, sorrow, and despair consign'd,
Beneath whose fatal influence doom'd I lie; 0! then to swell the tides of social wo
Are we then exiled to this last retreat

That heal th' afflicted bosom they o'erflow,
Of life, unhappy! thus decreed to meet?

While Memory dictates, this sad shipwreck tell, Ah! how unlike what yester-morn enjoy'd And what distress thy wretched friend befell! Enchanting hopes, for ever now destroy'd ! Then while in streams of soft compassion drown'd For, wounded far beyond all healing power,

The swains lament and maidens weep around; Palemon dies, and this his final hour :

While lisping children, touch'd with infant fear,
By those fell breakers, where in vain I strove, With wonder gaze, and drop th' unconscious tear ;
At once cut off from fortune, life, and love! O! then this moral bid their souls retain,
Far other scenes must soon present my sight, All thoughts of happiness on earth are vain."*
That lie deep buried yet in tenfold night. The last faint accents trembled on his tongue,
Ah! wretched father of a wretched son,

That now inactive to the palate clung ;
Whom thy paternal prudence has undone !
How will remembrance of this blinded care

-sed scilicet ultima semper Bend down thy head with anguish and despair!

Expectanda dies homini; dicique bealus Such dire effects from avarice arise,

Ante obitum nemo supremaquc funera debet." That deaf to Nature's voice and vainly wise,

Ovid. Met.


His bosom heaves a mortal groan-he dies! Through life's sad journey hopeless to complain! And shades eternal sink upon his eyes !

Can sacred Justice these events ordain? As thus defaced in death Palemon lay,

But, O my soul ! avoid that wondrous maze Arion gazed upon the liseless clay :

Where Reason, lost in endless error, strays ! Transfix'd he stood with awful terror fillid, As through this thorny vale of life we run, While down his cheek the silent drops distillid. Great Cause of all effects, Thy will be done."" “O ill-starr'd votary, of unspotted truth!

Now had the Grecians on the beach arrived Untimely perish'd in the bloom of youth,

To aid the helpless few who yet survived : Should e'er thy friend arrive on Albion's land, While passing they behold the waves o'erspread He will obey, though painful, thy demand : With shatter'd rafts and corses of the dead, His tongue the dreadful story shall display, Three still alive, benumb'd and faint they find, And all the horrors of this dismal day!

In mournful silence on a rock reclined ; Disastrous day! what ruin has thou bred! The generous natives, moved with social pain, What anguish to the living and the dead ! The feeble strangers in their arms sustain; How hast thou left the widow all forlorn, With pitying sighs their hapless lot deplore, And ever doom'd the orphan child to mourn; And lead them trembling from the fatal shore.


This gifted authoress, the daughter of Dr. John and Propriety of Public or Social Worship; and Aikin, was born at Kilworth Harcourt, in Leices- Sins of Government, Sins of the Nation, or a Distershire, on the 20th of June, 1743. Her education course for the Fast, which last appeared in 1793. was entirely domestic, but the quickness of appre- In 1802, she removed, with Mr. Barbauld, to hension, and desire for learning which she mani. Stoke Newington; and in 1804, published selecfested, induced her father to lend her his assist- tions from the Spectator, Tatler, Guardian, and ance towards enabling her to obtain a knowledge Freeholder, with a preliminary essay, which is of Latin and Greek. On the removal of Dr. Aikin regarded as her most successful effort in literary to superintend the dissenting academy at Warring criticism. In the same year, appeared her edition ton, in Lancashire, she accompanied him thither, of The Correspondence of Richardson, in six voin her fifteenth year, when she is said to have lumes, duodecimo; but the most valuable part of possessed great beauty of person and vivacity of this work is the very elegant and interesting life intellect. The associates she met with at War of that novelist, and the able review of his works, rington were in every way congenial to her mind, from the pen of our authoress. In 1808, she beand among others, were Drs. Priestley and En- came a widow; and in 1810, appeared her edition field, with whom she formed an intimate acquaint-of The British Novelists, with an introductory ance. In 1773, she was induced to publish a vo- essay, and biographical and critical notices prefixed lume of her poems, which, in the course of the to the works of each author. In the following same year, went through four editions. They year she published a collection of prose and verse, were followed by miscellaneous pieces in prose, under the title of The Female Spectator; and in by J. (her brother) and A. L. Aikin, which con. the same year, appeared that original offspring of siderably added to her reputation.

her genius, Eighteen Hundred and Eleven, a In 1774, she married the Rev. Rochemont Bar- poem. This was the last separate publication of bauld, with whom she removed to Palgrave, near Mrs. Barbauld, who died on the 9th of March, Dis, in Suffolk, where her husband had charge of 1825, in the eighty-second year of her agn. An a dissenting congregation, and was about to open edition of her works appeared in the same year, a boarding-school. Mrs. Barbauld assisted him in in two octavo volumes, with a memoir, by Lucy the task of instruction ; and some of her pupils, Aikin. who have since risen to literary eminence, among Mrs. Barbauld is one of the most eminent female whom were the present Mr. Denman and Sir writers which England has produced ; and both in William Gell, have acknowledged the value of prose and poetry she is hardly surpassed by any her lessons in English composition, and declama. of her sex, in the present age. With respect to the tion. In 1775, appeared a small volume from her style, we shall, perhaps, best describe it, by calling pen, entitled Devotional Pieces, compiled from the it that of a female Johnson ; and her Essay on Psalms of David, &c.; a collection which met Romances is a professed imitation of the manner with liule success and some animadversion. In of that great critic. He is himself said to have 1778, she published her Lessons for Children from allowed it to be the best that was ever attempted; Two to Three Years Old; and, in 1781, Hymns in because it reflected the colour of his thoughts, no Prose, for Children; both of which may be said to less than the turn of his expressions." She is, have formed an era in the art of instruction, and however, not without a style of her own, which the former has been translated into French, by M. is graceful, easy, and natural ; alike calculated to Pasquier.

engage the most common, and the most elevated In 1785, Mrs. Barbauld and her husband gave understanding. Her poems are addressed more to up their school and visited the continent, whence the feelings than to the imagination,-more to the they returned to England in June, 1786, and in the reason than the senses ; but the language never following year took up their residence at Hamp- becomes prosaic, and has sublimity and pathos, stead. Our authoress now began to use her pen totally free from bombast and affectation. The on the popular side of politics, and published, suc- spirit of piety and benevolence that breathes cessively, An Address to the Opposers of the Re. through her works pervaded her life, and she is an peal of the Corporation and Test Acts; A Poetical amiable example to her sex that it is possible to Epistle to Mr. Wilberforce on the Rejection of the combine, without danger to its morals or religious Bill for Abolishing the Slave Trade ; Remarks on principles, a manly understanding with a feminine Gilbert Wakefield's Inquiry into the Expediency and susceptible heart.


And shrub of fragrant leaf, that clothes their sides

With living verdure; whence the clustering bee
Extracts her golden dews: the shining box
And sweet-leaved myrtle, aromatic thyme,
The prickly juniper, and the green leaf

Which feeds the spinning worm ; while glowing ..A manly race of unsubmitting spirit, wise and brave;

bright Who still through bleeding ages struggled hard

Beneath the various foliage, wildly spreads To hold a generous undiminish'd state;

The arbutus, and rears his scarlet fruit
Too much in vain

Luxuriant, mantling o'er the craggy steeps ;

And thy own native laurel crowns the scene.
Hail, generous Corsica ! unconquer'd isle !

Hail to thy savage forests, awful, deep; The fort of freedom; that amidst the waves

Thy tangled thickets, and thy crowded woods, Stands like a rock of adamant, and dares

The haunt of herds untamed; which sullen bound The wildest fury of the beating storm.

From rock to rock with fierce unsocial air, And are there yet, in this late sickly age,

And wilder gaze, as conscious of the power Unkindly to the lowering growths of virtue,

That loves to reign amid the lonely scenes Such bold exalted spirits ? Men whose deeds,

Of unquellid nature : precipices huge, To the bright annals of old Greece opposed,

And tumbling torrents ; trackless deserts, plains Would throw in shades her yet unrivall’d name,

Fenced in with guardian rocks, whose quarries And dim the lustre of her fairest page!

teem And glows the flame of Liberty so strong

With shining steel, that to the cultured fields In this lone speck of earth! this spot obscure,

And sunny hills which wave with bearded grain, Shaggy with woods, and crusted o'er with rock,

Defends their homely produce. Liberty, By slaves surrounded, and by slaves oppress'd!

The mountain goddess, loves to range at large What then should Britons feel ?—should they not Amid such scenes, and on the iron soil catch

Prints her majestic step. For these she scorns The warm contagion of heroic ardour,

The green enameli'd vales, the velvet lap And kindle at a fire so like their own?

Of smooth savannahs, where the pillow'd head Such were the working thoughts which swella Of luxury reposes; balmy gales, the breast

And bowers that breathe of bliss. For these, Of generous Boswell; when with nobler aim

when first And views beyond the narrow beaten track This isle emerging like a beauteous gem By trivial fancy trod, he turn'd his course

From the dark bosom of the Tyrrhene main, From polish'd Gallia's soft delicious vales,

Rear'd its fair front, she mark'd it for her own, From the gray relics of imperial Rome,

And with her spirit warm’d. Her genuine sons, From her long galleries of laurell’d stone,

A broken remnant, from the generous stock Her chisell’d heroes and her marble gods, Of ancient Greece, from Sparta's sad remains, Whose dumb majestic pomp yet awes the world,

True to their high descent, preserved unqueneh'd To animated forms of patriot zeal;

The sacred fire through many a barbarous age : Warm in the living majesty of virtue;

Whom, nor the iron rod of cruel Carthage,
Elate with fearless spirit; firm; resolved ; Nor the dread sceptre of imperial Rome,
By fortune nor subdued, nor awed by power. Nor bloody Goth, nor grisly Saracen,
How raptured fancy burns, while warm in Nor the long galling yoke of proud Liguria,

Could crush into subjection. Still unquell'd
I trace the pictured landscape; while I kiss They rose superior, bursting from their chains,
With pilgrim lips devout the sacred soil

And claim'd man's dearest birthright, liberty: Stain'd with the blood of heroes. Cyrnus, hail! And long, through many a hard unequal strife, Hail to thy rocky, deep indented shores,

Maintain'd the glorious conflict; long withstood, And pointed clifts, which hear the chafing deep With single arm, the whole collected force Incessant foaming round thy shaggy sides. Or haughty Genoa, and ambitious Gaul. Hail to thy winding bays, thy sheltering ports,

And shall withstand it-Trust the faithful muse! And ample harbours, which inviting stretch It is not in the force of mortal arm, Their hospitable arms to every sail :

Scarcely in fate, to bind the struggling soul Thy numerous streams, that bursting from the That gall'd by wanton power, indignant swells cliffs

Against oppression ; breathing great revenge,
Down the steep channell'd rock impetuous pour Careless of life, determined to be free.
With grateful murmur : on the fearful edge And favouring Heaven approves : for see the
Of the rude precipice, thy hamlets brown

And straw-roof'd cots, which from the level vale Born to exalt his own, and give mankind
Scarce seen, amongst the craggy hanging cliffs A glimpse of higher natures : just, as great;
Seem like an eagle's nest aërial built.

The soul of council, and the nerve of war; Thy swelling mountains, brown with solemn Of high unshaken spirit, temper'd sweet shade

With soft urbanity, and polish'd grace, Of various trees, that wave their giant arms And attic wit, and gay unstudied smiles : O'er the rough sons of freedom; losty pines, Whom Heaven in some propitious hour endow'd And hardy fir, and ilex ever green,

With every purer virtue : gave him all And spreading chestnut, with each humbler plant, That lists the hero, or adorns the man.

« FöregåendeFortsätt »