Bold Science, who earth's caverned depths explores,
And soars triumphant 'mid new worlds of light,—
Lays bare the heaving heart [FN#22]
Nor suffers life to part—
Lures the red lightning from its stormy height—
Oft, goddess kneels to thee to save his precious stores.
[FN#22] An operation was performed at Paris by M. Richerande in which the heart of a patient, who afterwards recovered, was laid bare.
The rough-browed warrior on the midnight deck
While stealing softness thro' his pulses glides,
By the moon's pensive rays
Regards with lengthened gaze,
The pictured form his scarry bosom hides
By day; that tho' death grasp, hangs smiling at his neck.
When fate has torn from the fond mother's arms
The tender hope her bosom fed, to thee
She flies;—and ere decay
Can mar his beauteous prey
Her arching eyes, amid their grief, can see,
Still dawning bright, to them, its early-blighted charms.
The generous youth who, fired by love of fame,
A victim at her bloody altars fell;
To the beloved ones reft,
By aid of thee, has left
His form, his lip, his ardent glance, to tell
How fair was he on earth who left it for a name.
The patriot—here a moment let my strain
Tremble before thy Stuart—who but he
Could bid mild Washington—
His god-loved labours done—
Thus sit before us breathing majesty,
And, in his deep blue eye, still life and soul retain?
Methinks, the while I gaze, each graceful line
So light imprinted on his forehead fair,
Where Wisdom sits serene
Of every sense the queen,
Seems as an embryo empire still were there,
While still his ample breast swells with the vast design.
And fondly o'er the mellow tints I pause
Of her, whose vivid touch shames not her sire;
Bold Genius in his pride
Has marked her as his bride,
On his bright pinions bids her soul aspire,
Nor pay the tribute due by tardier Nature's laws. [FN#23]
[FN#23] While composing this ode the writer was shown a beautiful specimen from the hand of a young daughter of the celebrated Stuart, who entirely devoted herself to the art.
But guard thee well young J—e: in his embrace
How many seal with death their ectasy!
Too deep, intense, and wild,
For one so late a child,
I fear me lest the proffered transport be
That every earthlier joy absorbent would efface.