CAROLINE.
BY MR. SHIPLEY.
Oblivion wraps not in her silent shade
All human labours. Virtue blooms a flower,
That Time's rough hand shall never violate.
Still CAROLINE shall live in faithful verse,
Sweet nurse of Memory, and in the voice
Of grateful Britain. These shall testify
How well her calm impartial rule supplied
A monarch's absence; these commemorate
Her soul contemplative of peaceful Truth
And nature, mindful midst the pomp of Courts
Of wise retirement, and the silent grove.
She stretch'd thro' length'ning shades thy spacious walks,
Delightful Richmond, and the terrass rais'd
Of regal grandeur, whence the eye discerns
Fair Thames with copious waters winding slow
Midst pastures, spreading herds, and villages
Of aspect neat, and villas wrapt in shades:
Fair scene of chearful peace! the lovely sight
Frequent she view'd, and bless'd the honour'd reign
Of her great Consort, provident and mild.
Now wander'd musing thro' the darkening depth
Of thickest woods, friendly to solemn thought:
Now o'er broad lawns fair opening to the sun.
Nor midst her rural plans disdain'd to mix
The useful arable, and waving corn
With soft turf border'd, and the lowly cot,
That half appears, in branching elms obscur'd.
Here beauty dwells, assembled from the scenes
Of various nature; such as oft inflam'd
With rapture Grecian bards, in that fair vale,
Thessalian Tempe, or thy favorite soil,
Arcadia, erst by awe-struck fancy fill'd
With wand'ring forms, the woodland Deities,
Light Nymphs and wanton Satyrs, faintly seen
Quick glancing thro' the shade at close of eve,
Great Pan, and old Silenus. Hither led
By solitary grief shall GEORGE recall
Th' endearing manners, the soft speech, that flow'd
From his lov'd Consort, virtue mix'd with love,
Prudence, and mild insinuating sense:
But chief her thoughtful breast of counsels deep
Capacious, nor unequal to the weight
Of Government. Such was the royal mind
Of wise ELIZA, name of loveliest sound
To British ears, and pattern fair to Kings:
Or she who rules the Scepter of the North
Illustrious, spreading o'er a barbarous world
The light of arts and manners, and with arms
Infests th' astonish'd Sultan, hardly now
With scatter'd troops resisting; she drives on
The heavy war, and shakes th' Imperial Throne
Of old Byzantium. Latest time shall sound
The praise of female genius. Oft shall GEORGE
Pay the kind tear, and grief of tender words
To CAROLINE, thus oft lamenting sad.
"Hail sacred shade! by me with endless woe
"Still honour'd! ever in my Breast shall dwell
"Thy image, ever present to my soul
"Thy faithful love, in length of years mature:
"O skill'd t'enliven time, to soften care
"With looks and smiles and friendship's chearful voice!
"Anxious, of Thee bereft, a solitude
"I feel, that not the fond condoling cares
"Of our sad offspring can remove. Ev'n now
"With lonely steps I trace the gloomy groves,
"Thy lov'd recesses, studious to recall
"The vanish'd bliss, and cheat my wand'ring thoughts
"With sweet illusion. Yet I not accuse
"Heav'n's dispensation. Prosperous and long
"Have been my days, and not unknown to fame,
"That dwells with virtue. But 'tis hard to part
"The league of ancient friendship, to resign
"The home-felt fondness, the secure delight,
"That reason nourish'd, and fair fame approv'd."
THE GENEALOGY OF CHRIST,
AS IT IS REPRESENTED ON THE EAST WINDOW
OF WINCHESTER COLL. CHAPEL.
WRITTEN AT WINTON SCHOOL, BY DR. LOWTHE.
At once to raise our rev'rence and delight,
To elevate the mind, and please the sight,
To pour in virtue at th' attentive eye,
And waft the soul on wings of extacy;
For this the painter's art with nature vies,
And bids the visionary saint arise;
Who views the sacred forms in thought aspires,
Catches pure zeal, and as he gazes, fires;
Feels the same ardour to his breast convey'd,
Is what he sees, and emulates the shade.
Thy strokes, great Artist, so sublime appear,
They check our pleasure with an awful fear;
While, thro' the mortal line, the God you trace,
Author himself, and Heir of Jesse's race;
In raptures we admire thy bold design,
And, as the subject, own the hand divine.
While thro' thy work the rising day shall stream,
So long shall last thine honour, praise and name.
And may thy labours to the Muse impart
Some emanation from her sister art,
To animate the verse, and bid it shine
In colours easy, bright, and strong, as Thine.
Supine on earth an awful figure lies,
While softest slumbers seem to seal his eyes;
The hoary sire Heav'ns guardian care demands,
And at his feet the watchful angel stands.
The form august and large, the mien divine
Betray the [2]founder of Messiah's line.
Lo! from his loins the promis'd stem ascends,
And high to Heaven its sacred Boughs extends:
Each limb productive of some hero springs,
And blooms luxuriant with a race of kings.
Th' eternal plant wide spreads its arms around,
And with the mighty branch the mystic top is crown'd.
And lo! the glories of th' illustrious line
At their first dawn with ripen'd splendors shine,
In DAVID all express'd; the good, the great,
The king, the hero, and the man compleat.
Serene he sits, and sweeps the golden lyre,
And blends the prophet's with the poet's fire.
See! with what art he strikes the vocal strings,
The God, his theme, inspiring what he sings!
Hark—or our ears delude us—from his tongue
Sweet flows, or seems to flow, some heav'nly song.
Oh! could thine art arrest the flitting sound,
And paint the voice in magic numbers bound;
Could the warm sun, as erst when Memnon play'd
Wake with his rising beam the vocal shade:
Then might he draw th' attentive angels down,
Bending to hear the lay, so sweet, so like their own.
On either side the monarch's offspring shine,
And some adorn, and some disgrace their line.
Here Ammon glories; proud, incestuous lord!
This hand sustains the robe, and that the sword.
Frowning and fierce, with haughty strides he tow'rs,
And on his horrid brow defiance low'rs.
There Absalom the ravish'd sceptre sways,
And his stol'n honour all his shame displays:
The base usurper Youth! who joins in one
The rebel subject, and th' ungrateful son.
Amid the royal race, see Nathan stand:
Fervent he seems to speak, and lift his hand;
His looks th' emotion of his soul disclose,
And eloquence from every gesture flows.
Such, and so stern he came, ordain'd to bring
Th' ungrateful mandate to the guilty King:
When, at his dreadful voice, a sudden smart
Shot thro' the trembling monarch's conscious heart;
From his own lips condemn'd; severe decree!
Had his God prov'd so stern a Judge as He.
But man with frailty is allay'd by birth;
Consummate purity ne'er dwelt on earth:
Thro' all the soul tho' virtue holds the rein,
Beats at the heart, and springs in ev'ry vein:
Yet ever from the clearest source have ran
Some gross allay, some tincture of the man.
But who is he——deep-musing——in his mind,
He seems to weigh, in reason's scales, mankind;
Fix'd contemplation holds his steady eyes——
I know the sage[3]; the wisest of the wise.
Blest with all man could wish, or prince obtain,
Yet his great heart pronounc'd those blessings vain.
And lo! bright glitt'ring in his sacred hands,
In miniature the glorious temple stands.
Effulgent frame! stupendous to behold!
Gold the strong valves, the roof of burnish'd gold.
The wand'ring ark, in that bright dome enshrin'd,
Spreads the strong light, eternal, unconfin'd!
| Above th' unutterable glory plays Presence divine! and the full-streaming rays Pour thro' reluctant clouds intolerable blaze. |
| See their fair laurels wither on thy brow, Nor herbs, nor healthful arts avail thee now, Nor is heav'n chang'd, apostate prince, but Thou. |
| Leant down from Heav'n: amid the storm he rode March'd Pestilence before him; as he trod, Pale desolation bath'd his steps in blood. |
| Yet, in thy courts, hereafter shalt thou see Presence immediate of the Deity, The light himself reveal'd, the God confess'd in Thee. |