Poems (Sewell)/To C.
To C * * * * *ON HIS ACKNOWLEDGING AN ERROR IN HIS FIRST POETICAL COLLECTION.
As glowing Phœbus, with his morning beam,
Dispels the fiction of th' illusive dream;
So heav'nly Truth, with clear refulgent light,
Bursts through the gloom of intellectual night,
And pure with radiance from her morning sky,
Bids the pale form of chearless Error fly.—
Blest be the day—for ever blest the hour!
When Carlo's breast confest her sacred pow'r!
The conscious Muse, her triumph shall impart—
A worthy off'ring is thy conquer'd heart:
Oh! may'st thou ever own her sacred claim,
And blend the Christian's with the Poet's name!
Dispels the fiction of th' illusive dream;
So heav'nly Truth, with clear refulgent light,
Bursts through the gloom of intellectual night,
And pure with radiance from her morning sky,
Bids the pale form of chearless Error fly.—
Blest be the day—for ever blest the hour!
When Carlo's breast confest her sacred pow'r!
The conscious Muse, her triumph shall impart—
A worthy off'ring is thy conquer'd heart:
Oh! may'st thou ever own her sacred claim,
And blend the Christian's with the Poet's name!
While servile Bards, their abject course pursue,
And Fashion gives the prize to Genius due;
While sordid Int'rest plays her odious part,
And makes the gen'rous Muse a Child of Art!
To praise—to blame—to flatter by design,
And form Dissimulation's flowing line:
While subtle Mischief, with destructive pow'rs,
Adorns the precipice with tempting flowers;—
Thine be the task, to guide unthinking Youth,
To scatter roses in the paths of Truth;
Thine be the task, fair Virtue to imprint,
And paint her graces with the softest tint!
With soothing care, the tortur'd Soul to calm,
And heal her wounds with Hope's delicious balm!—
Since here Adversity the storm shall bring,
To rend the plumage from her golden wing;
Canst not thou teach her, gentle Bard, to rise
On eagle pinions to her native skies?—
Approving Virtue wou'd herself prepare
Th' immortal wreath to recompence thy care;
Tho' Nature frowns, serene shall be her light,
And beam resplendent thro' a world of night.
And Fashion gives the prize to Genius due;
While sordid Int'rest plays her odious part,
And makes the gen'rous Muse a Child of Art!
To praise—to blame—to flatter by design,
And form Dissimulation's flowing line:
While subtle Mischief, with destructive pow'rs,
Adorns the precipice with tempting flowers;—
Thine be the task, to guide unthinking Youth,
To scatter roses in the paths of Truth;
Thine be the task, fair Virtue to imprint,
And paint her graces with the softest tint!
With soothing care, the tortur'd Soul to calm,
And heal her wounds with Hope's delicious balm!—
Since here Adversity the storm shall bring,
To rend the plumage from her golden wing;
Canst not thou teach her, gentle Bard, to rise
On eagle pinions to her native skies?—
Approving Virtue wou'd herself prepare
Th' immortal wreath to recompence thy care;
Tho' Nature frowns, serene shall be her light,
And beam resplendent thro' a world of night.
To Reason's view, the rich, the proud, the gay,
And life's deceiving trifles fade away;
Its Golden Prize, to Wisdom, seems entwin'd
Within the casket of the purest mind;
Best can it feel Affection's gentle pow'r,
The soothing welcome, and the social hour!—
May such be thine! till calm Reflection's ray
Shines o'er the ev'ning of thy golden day:
And oh! when Death its sable curtain draws,
May glorious Virtue find thee in her cause!
And life's deceiving trifles fade away;
Its Golden Prize, to Wisdom, seems entwin'd
Within the casket of the purest mind;
Best can it feel Affection's gentle pow'r,
The soothing welcome, and the social hour!—
May such be thine! till calm Reflection's ray
Shines o'er the ev'ning of thy golden day:
And oh! when Death its sable curtain draws,
May glorious Virtue find thee in her cause!