Extract from a Letter from Italy.
Row POW has kind Heaven
adorned the happy land,
And scatter'd blessings with a wasteful hand!
But what avail her unexhausted stores,
Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores, With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, The smiles of nature, and the charms of art,
While proud oppression in
her valleys reigns,
And tyranny usurps her happy plains ? The poor inhabitant beholds in vain
The reddening orange and the swelling grain : Joyless he sees the growing oils and wines, And in the myrtle's fragrant shade repines; Starves, in the midst of Nature's bounty curst, And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.
Oh, Liberty, thou goddess heavenly bright, Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight! Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton train ;
SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT.
But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
I saw her upon nearer view, A spirit, yet a woman too! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine ; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
Extract from a Letter from Italy.
adorned the happy land,
And scatter'd blessings with a wasteful hand!
But what avail her unexhausted stores,
Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores, With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, The smiles of nature, and the charms of art,
While proud oppression in
her valleys reigns,
And tyranny usurps her happy plains ? The poor inhabitant beholds in vain
The reddening orange and the swelling grain : Joyless he sees the growing oils and wines, And in the myrtle's fragrant shade repines ; Starves, in the midst of Nature's bounty curst, And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.
Oh, Liberty, thou goddess heavenly bright, Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight! Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton train;
Eased of her load, subjection grows more light, And poverty looks cheerful in thy sight; Thou mak'st the gloomy face of Nature gay, Giv'st beauty to the sun, and pleasure to the day.
HE way was long, the wind was cold, The minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek and tresses grey Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy; The last of all the bards was he, Who sung of border chivalry; For, welladay! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest. No more on prancing palfrey borne,
He caroll'd light as lark at morn ; No longer courted and caressed, High placed in hall, a welcome guest, He poured, to lord and lady gay, The unpremeditated lay :
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