ΤΟ HIS SERENE HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF MONTPENSIER, ON HIS PORTRAIT OF THE LADY ADELAIDE FORBES. Donington Park, 1802. To catch the thought, by painting's spell, Howe'er remote, howe'er refined, And o'er the kindling canvass tell O'er nature's form to glance the eye, Her evening blushes, ere they fade ;— Yes, these are Painting's proudest powers; And yet, when Friendship sees thee trace, On which her eye delights to rest; While o'er the lovely look serene, The smile of peace, the bloom of youth, The cheek, that blushes to be seen, The eye that tells the bosom's truth; While o'er each line, so brightly true, Our eyes with ling'ring pleasure rove, Blessing the touch whose various hue Thus brings to mind the form we love; 1 Though I have styled this poem a Dithyrambic Ode, I cannot presume to say that it possesses, in any degree, the characteristics of that species of poetry. The nature of the ancient Dithyrambic is very imperfectly known. According to M. Burette, a licentious irregularity of metre, an extravagant research of thought and expression, and a rude embarrassed construction, are among its most distinguishing features; and in all these respects, I have but too closely, I fear, followed my models. Burette adds, "Ces caractères des dithyrambes se font sentir à ceux qui lisent attentivement les odes de Pindare."-Mémoires de l'Acad. vol. x. p. 306. The same opinion may be collected from Schmidt's dissertation upon the subject. I think, however, if the Dithyrambics of Pindar were in our possession, we should find that, however wild and fanciful, they were by no means the tasteless jargon they are represented, and that even their irregularity was what Boileau calls "un beau désordre." Chiabrera, who has been styled the Pindar of Italy, and from whom all its poetry upon the Greek model was called Chiabreresco, (as Crescimbeni informs us, lib. i. cap. 2,) has given, amongst his Vendemmie, a Dithyrambic, "all' uso de' Greci ;" full of those compound epithets, which, we are told, were a chief characteristic of the style, (συνθέτους δε λέξεις σποιουν --Suid. Διθυραμβοδιδ. ;) such as We feel the magic of thy art, And own it with a zest, a zeal, A pleasure, nearer to the heart Than critic taste can ever feel THE FALL OF HEBE A DITHYRAMBIC ODE1 "TWAS on a day Whez he immortals at their banquet lay; The bowl Sparkled with starry dew, The weeping of those myriad urns of light, Within whose orbs, the almighty Power, At nature's dawning hour, Stored the rich fluid of ethereal soul.2 Around, Soft odorous clouds, that upward wing their f (Where they have bathed them in the orient All, all was luxury! All must be luxury, where Lyæus smiles. His locks divine Were crown'd With a bright meteor-braid, Which, like an ever-springing wreath of vine Shot into brilliant leafy shapes, And o'er his brow in lambent tendrils play'd Briglindorato Pegaso Nubicalpestator. But I cannot suppose that Pindar, even amidst all th of dithyrambics, would ever have descended to ba guage like the following: Bella Filli, e bella Clori, Non più dar pregio a tue bellezze e taci, Che se Bacco fa vezzi alle mie labbra Fo le fiche a' vostri baci. esser vorrei Coppier, E se troppo desiro Rime del CHIABRERA, part ii. 2 This is a Platonic fancy. The philosopher sup his Timæus, that, when the Deity had formed the s world, he proceeded to the composition of other which process, says Plato, he made use of the s though the ingredients he mingled were not quite for the former; and having refined the mixture wi of his own essence, he distributed it among the sta served as reservoirs of the fluid.-Tavr' Eine kat τον προτερον κρατήρα εν ώ την του παντός ψυχής έμισγε, κ. τ. λ 1 We learn from Theophrastus, that the roses of Cyrene were particularly fragrant.-Evocpara ra de ra ev Kupnín poda. 2 Heraclitus (Physicus) held the soul to be a spark of the stellar essence-"Scintilla stellaris essentiæ."-MACROBIUS, in Somn. Scip. lib. i. cap. 14. . The country of the Hyperboreans. These people were supposed to be placed so far north that the north wind could not affect them; they lived longer than any other mortals; passed their whole time in music and dancing, &c. &c. But the most extravagant fiction related of them is that to which the two lines preceding allude. It was imagined that, instead of our vulgar atmosphere, the Hyperboreans breathed nothing bat feathers! According to Herodotus and Pliny, this idea was suggested by the quantity of snow which was observed to fall in those regions; thus the former: Ta v repa Eikagovτας την χιονα τους Σκύθας τε και τους περιοίκους δοκέω λεγειν. Gush'd forth into the cup with mantling heat, Her watchful care Was still to cool its liquid fire With snow-white sprinklings of that feathery air The children of the Pole respire, In those enchanted lands," Where life is all a spring, and north winds never blow. But oh! Bright Hebe, what a tear, And what a blush were thine, When, as the breath of every Grace Wafted thy feet along the studded sphere, With a bright cup for Jove self to driL, Some star, that shone beneath thy tread, Raising its amorous head To kiss those matchless feet, Check'd thy career too fleet, Saw thee, sweet Hebe, prostrate fall Lies mid the liquid sparkles of the morn. The wanton wind, Which had pursued the flying fair, Now, as she fell,-oh wanton breeze! Hangs o'er the Mysteries! -HERODOT. lib. iv. cap. 31. Ovid tells the fable otherwise: see Metamorph. lib. xv. Mr. O'Halloran, and some other Irish antiquarians, have been at great expense of learning to prove that the strange country, where they took snow for feathers, was Ireland, and that the famous Abaris was an Irish Druid. Mr. Rowland, however, will have it that Abaris was a Welshman, and that his name is only a corruption of Ap Rees! 4 It is Servius, I believe, who mentions this unlucky trip which Hebe made in her occupation of cup-bearer; and Hoffman tells it after him: "Cum Hebe pocula Jovi administrans, perque lubricum minus cauté incedens, cecidisset," &c. The arcane symbols of this ceremony were deposited in the cista, where they lay religiously concealed from the eyes of the profane. They were generally carried in the procession by an ass; and hence the proverb, which one may so often The brow of Juno flush'd Love bless'd the breeze! The Muses blush'd; And every cheek was hid behind a lyre, While every eye look'd laughing through the strings. But the bright cup? the nectar'd draught By the fall'n Hebe's side; While, in slow lingering drops, th' ethereal tide, Who was the Spirit that remember'd Man, And, with a wing of love, Brush'd off the goblet's scatter'd tears, As, trembling, near the edge of heaven they ran, Essence of immortality! The shower Fell glowing through the spheres ; While all around new tints of bliss, New odors and new light, Enrich'd its radiant flow. Now, with a liquid kiss, It stole along the thrilling wire That whisper from the planets as they roll, By all their sighs, meandering stole. Descending through the waste of night, Thought 'twas some planet, whose empyreal frame Had kindled, as it rapidly revolved Around its fervid axle, and dissolved Into a flood so bright! The youthful Day, Lay sweetly sleeping On the flush'd bosom of a lotos-flower; The rosy clouds, that curl'd About his infant head, Like myrrh upon the locks of Cupid shed. Waved his exhaling tresses through the sky, The tide divine, All glorious with the vermil dye And every drop was wine, was heavenly WINE RINGS AND SEALS. 'Ωσπερ σφραγίδες τα φιλήματα. ACHILLES TAtius, "Go!" said the angry, weeping maid, apply in the world, "asinus portat mysteria." See the boy seated upon a lotos. Etre Alyvntovs Ewpakws apn Divine Legation, book ii. sect. 4. 1 In the Geoponica, lib. ii. cap. 17, there is a fable somewhat like this descent of the nectar to earth. Ev ουρανω των θεων ευωχούμενων, και του νεκταρος πολλού παρακειμένου, ανασκίρτησαι χορεία τον Ερωτα και συσσείσαι τῷ πτέρῳ του κρατήρος την βασιν, και περιτρέψαι μεν αυτόν το δε νεκταρ εις την γην εκχυθεν, κ. τ. λ. Vid. Autor. de Re Rust. edit. Cantab. 1704. 2 The constellation Lyra. The astrologers attribute great virtues to this sign in ascendenti, which are enumerated by Pontano, in his Urania: Ecce novem cum pectine chordas Emodulans, mulcetque novo vaga sidera cantu, Quo captæ nascentum animæ concordia ducunt Pectora, &c. The Egyptians represented the dawn of day by a young πολης παιδιον νεογνόν γράφοντας επιλωτῳ καθεζόμενον. tarch. περί του μη χραν εμμετρ. See also his Treatise & et Osir. Observing that the lotos showed its head water at sunrise, and sank again at his setting, they con the idea of consecrating this flower to Osiris, or the su This symbol of a youth sitting upon a lotos is very fre on the Abraxases, or Basilidian stones. See Montf tom. ii. planche 158, and the "Supplement," &c. tom. vii. chap. 5. 4 The ancients esteemed those flowers and trees the s est upon which the rainbow had appeared to rest; a wood they chiefly burned in sacrifices, was that whi smile of Iris had consecrated. Plutarch. Sympos. lib. i 2, where (as Vossius remarks) Katove, instead of sale undoubtedly the genuine reading. See Vossius, for curious particularities of the rainbow, De Origin. et Pr Idololat. lib. iii. cap. 13. A WARNING. TO OH fair as heaven and chaste as light! No, no! a star was born with thee, Where the bright gem of virtue shone; A faded monument behind; Oh! 'twas a sight I wept to see— то "Tis time, I feel, to leave thee now, While yet my soul is something free; While yet those dangerous eyes allow One minute's thought to stray from thee Oh! thou becom'st each moment dearer; Nay, if thou dost not scorn and hate me, Doom me not thus so soon to fall; Duties, fame, and hopes await me,But that eye would blast them all! For, thou hast heart as false and cold As ever yet allured or sway'd, And couldst, without a sigh, behold The ruin which thyself had made. Yet, could I think that, truly fond, Oh! but to win it, night and day, Inglorious at thy feet reclined, I'd sigh my dreams of fame away, The world for thee forgot, resign'd. But no, 'tis o'er, and-thus we part, Never to meet again-no, never. False woman, what a mind and heart Thy treach'ry has undone forever! WOMAN. AWAY, away--you're all the same, A smiling, flutt'ring, jilting throng; And, wise too late, I burn with shame, To think I've been your slave so long Slow to be won, and quick to rove, From folly kind, from cunning loath, Too cold for bliss, too weak for love, Yet feigning all that's best in both; Still panting o'er a crowd to reign,More joy it gives to woman's breast To make ten frigid coxcombs vain, Than one true, manly lover blest. Away, away-your smile's a curse- |