William Cowper

The lapse of time and rivers is the same, Both speed their journey with a restless stream; The silent pace, with which they steal away,

A raven, while with glossy breast Her new-laid eggs she fondly press'd, And, on her wicker-work high mounted,

Hear, Lord, the song of praise and prayer In heaven thy dwelling-place, From infants made the public care,

The Lord receives his highest praise From humble minds and hearts sincere; While all the loud professor says

Dear Anna,'Between friend and friend Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way,

Where Humber pours his rich commercial stream There dwelt a wretch, who breathed but to blaspheme; In subterraneous caves his life he led,

Too many, Lord, abuse thy grace, In this licentious day; And while they boast they see thy face,

And dwells there in a female heart, By bounteous Heaven design'd, The choicest raptures to impart,

O how I love thy holy word, Thy gracious covenant, O Lord! It guides me in the peaceful way;

Madam,'A stranger's purpose in these lays Is to congratulate, and not to praise. To give the creature the Creator's due

Dear Joseph,--five and twenty years ago-- Alas, how time escapes!--'tis even so-- With frequent intercourse, and always sweet

'Tis not that I design to rob Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob, For thou art born sole heir, and single,

Here lies one who never drew Blood himself, yet many slew; Gave the gun its aim, and figure

Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,'

I ransack'd for a theme of song, Much ancient chronicle, and long; I read of bright embattled fields,

Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid' Silent and chaste she steals along,

Reader! behold a monument That asks no sigh or tear, Though it perpetuate the event

Naples, too credulous, ah! boast no more The sweet-voiced Siren buried on thy shore, That, when Parthenope[1] deceas'd, she gave

Another Leonora[1] once inspir'd Tasso, with fatal love to frenzy fir'd, But how much happier, liv'd he now, were he,

Sir, when I flew to seize the bird In spite of your command, A louder voice than yours I heard,

When the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien,

She came'she is gone'we have met' And meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set,

Believe it or not, as you choose, The doctrine is certainly true, That the future is known to the muse,

Qua nihil majus meliusve terris Fata donav're, bonique divi; Nec dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum

Fierce passions discompose the mind, As tempests vex the sea: But calm content and peace we find,

Nam neque me tantum venientis sibilus austri, Nec percussa juvant fluctu tam litora, nec quae Saxosas inter decurrunt flumina valles.

To be remember'd thus is fame, And in the first degree; And did the few, like her, the same,

To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; 'Tis water makes the willow thrive,

At length, my friend, the far-sent letters come, Charged with thy kindness, to their destin'd home, They come, at length, from Deva's[2] Western side,

Thee, whose refulgent staff and summons clear, Minerva's flock longtime was wont t'obey, Although thyself an herald, famous here,

Silent I sat, dejected, and alone, Making in thought the public woes my own, When, first, arose the image in my breast

Hence, my epistle--skim the Deep--fly o'er Yon smooth expanse to the Teutonic shore! Haste--lest a friend should grieve for thy delay--

Time, never wand'ring from his annual round, Bids Zephyr breathe the Spring, and thaw the ground; Bleak Winter flies, new verdure clothes the plain,

Who sent the Author a poetical epistle, in which he requested that his verses, if not so good as usual, might be excused on account of the many feasts to which his friends invited him, and which would not allow him leisure to finish them as he wished. With no rich viands overcharg'd, I send Health, which perchance you want, my pamper'd friend;

As yet a stranger to the gentle fires That Amathusia's smiling Queen[2] inspires, Not seldom I derided Cupid's darts,

My God, till I received thy stroke, How like a beast was I! So unaccustom'd to the yoke,

To purify their wine, some people bleed A lamb into the barrel, and succeed; No nostrum, planters say, is half so good

These are not dewdrops, these are tears, And tears by Sally shed For absent Robin, who she fears,

Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,

Here Johnson lies'a sage by all allow'd, Whom to have bred may well make England proud, Whose prose was eloquence, by wisdom taught,

Though once a puppy, and though Fop by name, Here moulders one whose bones some honour claim. No sycophant, although of spaniel race,

Tears flow, and cease not, where the good man lies, Till all who knew him follow to the skies. Tears therefore fall where Chester's ashes sleep;

Laurels may flourish round the conqueror's tomb, But happiest they who win the world to come: Believers have a silent field to fight,

What various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy-seat! Yet who that knows the worth of prayer,

Tantane, tam patiens, nullo certamine tolli Dona sines? - Virg.

Hear, Lord, the song of praise and prayer, In heaven thy dwelling-place, From infants, made the public care,

When Hagar found the bottle spent, And wept o'er Ishmael, A message from the Lord was sent

What virtue, or what mental grace But men unqualified and base Will boast it their possession?

Says the pipe to the snuff-box, I can't understand What the ladies and gentlemen see in your face, That you are in fashion all over the land,

Almighty King! whose wondrous hand Supports the weight of sea and land, Whose grace is such a boundless store,

This cap, that so stately appears, With ribbon-bound tassel on high, Which seems by the crest that it rears

Holy Lord God! I love thy truth, Nor dare thy least commandment slight; Yet pierced by sin, the serpent's tooth,

There was a time when 'tna's silent fire Slept unperceived, the mountain yet entire; When, conscious of no danger from below,

Doceas iter, et sacra ostia pandas. - Virg. Aen. 6. Ask what is human life'the sage replies,

Weak and irresolute is man; The purpose of to-day, Woven with pains into his plan,

Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour's charms I read, Lowly, meek, from blemish free,

Poets attempt the noblest task they can, Praising the Author of all good in man, And, next, commemorating worthies lost,

This cabin, Mary, in my sight appears, Built as it has been in our waning years, A rest afforded to our weary feet,

Here, free from riot's hated noise, Be mine, ye calmer, purer joys, A book or friend bestows;

Other stones the era tell When some feeble mortal fell; I stand here to date the birth

Pause here and think: a monitory rhyme Demands one moment of thy fleeting time. Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein;

My song shall bless the Lord of all, My praise shall climb to his abode; Thee, Saviour, by that name I call,

My God, how perfect are thy ways! But mine polluted are; Sin twines itself about my praise,

The saints should never be dismay'd, Nor sink in hopeless fear; For when they least expect his aid,

By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, When he Goliath fought,

Heal us, Emmanuel, here we are, Waiting to feel thy touch: Deep-wounded souls to thee repair,

Jesus, whose blood so freely stream'd, To satisfy the law's demand; By thee from guilt and wrath redeem'd,

As birds their infant brood protect,[1] And spread their wings to shelter them, Thus saith the Lord to his elect,

The Saviour, what a noble flame Was kindled in his breast, When hasting to Jerusalem,

Sometimes a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises

God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea,

Two Poets[1] (poets, by report, Not oft so well agree), Sweet harmonist of Flora's court!

William was once a bashful youth, His modesty was such, That one might say, to say the truth,

Farewell! endued with all that could engage All hearts to love thee, both in youth and age! In prime of life, for sprightliness enroll'd

Sweet babe! whose image here express'd Does thy peaceful slumbers show; Guilt or fear, to break thy rest,

Doom'd, as I am, in solitude to waste The present moments, and regret the past; Deprived of every joy I valued most,

In vain to live from age to age While modern bards endeavour, I write my name in Patty's page,

Oh! to some distant scene, a willing exile From the wild roar of this busy world, Were it my fate with Delia to retire,

I was a grovelling creature once, And basely cleaved to earth; I wanted spirit to renounce

To Jesus, the Crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone: O bear me, ye cherubim, up,

God of my life, to thee I call, Afflicted at thy feet I fall; When the great water-floods prevail,[1]

What is there in the vale of life Half so delightful as a wife, When friendship, love, and peace combine

No strength of nature can suffice To serve the Lord aright: And what she has she misapplies,

Hark, my soul! it is the Lord: 'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word; Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee:

If John marries Mary, and Mary alone, 'Tis a very good match between Mary and John. Should John wed a score, oh, the claws and the scratches!

The Saviour hides his face! My spirit thirsts to prove Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace,

The lady thus address'd her spouse' What a mere dungeon is this house! By no means large enough; and was it,

I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to share; Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid

Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway,

I will praise thee every day, Now thine anger's turn'd away! Comfortable thoughts arise

Patron of all those luckless brains, That, to the wrong side leaning, Indite much metre with much pains,

Come, peace of mind, delightful guest! Return, and make thy downy nest Once more in this sad heart:

Israel, in ancient days, Not only had a view Of Sinai in a blaze,

Time was when I was free as air, The thistle's downy seed my fare, My drink the morning dew;

Go'thou art all unfit to share The pleasures of this place With such as its old tenants are,

Cowper had sinn'd with some excuse, If, bound in rhyming tethers, He had committed this abuse

Thrive, gentle plant! and weave a bower For Mary and for me, And deck with many a splendid flower,

Quod adest, memento Componere 'quus. C'tera fluminis Ritu feruntur.'Horace.

- Placid'que ibi demum morte quievit.'Virg. There calm at length he breathed his soul away. 'O most delightful hour by man

Ne commonentem recta sperne.'Buchanan. Despise not my good counsel. He who sits from day to day

Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, Atque metus omnes et inexorabile fatum Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari!'Virg.

De sacris autem h'c sit una sententia, ut conserventur. - Cic. de Leg. But let us all concur in this one sentiment, that things sacred be inviolate.

A Spaniel, Beau, that fares like you, Well fed, and at his ease, Should wiser be than to pursue

The suitors sinn'd, but with a fair excuse, Whom all this elegance might well seduce; Nor can our censure on the husband fall,

The birds put off their every hue To dress a room for Montagu. The peacock sends his heavenly dyes,

Oh, fond attempt to give a deathless lot To names ignoble, born to be forgot! In vain recorded in historic page,

Jesus! where'er thy people meet, There they behold thy mercy seat; Where'er thy seek thee, thou art found,

In language warm as could be breathed or penn'd Thy picture speaks the original, my friend, Not by those looks that indicate thy mind'

I should have deem'd it once an effort vain To sweeten more sweet Maro's matchless strain, But from that error now behold me free,

The Genius of the Augustan age His head among Rome's ruins rear'd, And, bursting with heroic rage,

O sovereign of an isle renown'd For undisputed sway, Wherever o'er yon gulf profound

So then'the Vandals of our isle, Sworn foes to sense and law, Have burnt to dust a nobler pile

His master taken from his head, Elisha saw him go; And in desponding accents said,

Ye nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red With tears o'er hapless favourites shed, O share Maria's grief!

Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannos Ausus es infandum perfide Fauxe nefas, Fallor? an & mitis voluisti ex parte videri,

Cocoa-nut naught, Fish too dear, None must be bought

What portents, from what distant region, ride, Unseen till now in ours, the astonish'd tide? In ages past, old Proteus, with his droves

Written When The News Arrived. To the March in Scipio. Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more;

Could Homer come himself, distress'd and poor, And tune his harp at Rhedicina's door, The rich old vixen would exclaim (I fear),

Ye sister Pow'rs who o'er the sacred groves Preside, and, Thou, fair mother of them all Mnemosyne,[1] and thou, who in thy grot

Round Thurlow's head in early youth, And in his sportive days, Fair Science pour'd the light of truth,

When, long sequester'd from his throne, George took his seat again, By right of worth, not blood alone,

(in the manner of homer.) The straw-stuff'd hamper with his ruthless steel He open'd, cutting sheer th' inserted cords

O that those lips had language! Life has pass'd With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine'thy own sweet smile I see,

When wit and genius meet their doom In all-devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome,

My lids with grief were tumid yet, And still my sullied cheek was wet With briny dews profusely shed

Learn ye nations of the earth The condition of your birth, Now be taught your feeble state,

Survey my Features--you will own it clear That little skill has been exerted here. My Friends, who know me not here smile to see

Am pius extrema veniens Jacobus ab arcto Teucrigenas populos, lateque patentia regna Albionum tenuit, jamque inviolabile foedus

I shall not ask Jean Jaques Rousseau[1] If birds confabulate or no; 'Tis clear, that they were always able

Quales aerii montis de vertice nubes Cum surgunt, et jam Boreae tumida ora quierunt, Caelum hilares abdit spissa caligine vultus,

When darkness long has veil'd my mind, And smiling day once more appears; Then, my Redeemer, then I find

Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor. I own I am shock'd at the purchase of slaves,

Sin has undone our wretched race, But Jesus has restored, And brought the sinner face to face

Of all the gifts thine hand bestows, Thou Giver of all good! Not heaven itself a richer knows

There is a fountain fill'd with blood Drawn from Emmanuel's veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Bestow, dear Lord, upon our youth The gift of saving grace; And let the seed of sacred truth

Gracious Lord, our children see, By thy mercy we are free; But shall these, alas! remain

Lord, who hast suffer'd all for me, My peace and pardon to procure, The lighter cross I bear for thee,

When the blest seed of Terah's faithful Son,[1] After long toil their liberty had won, And past from Pharian[2] fields to Canaan Land,

When Israel by Jehovah call'd From Egypt's hostile plain, Pour'd forth in numbers as the Sand

Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,

Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,

Far from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far; From scenes where Satan wages still

Hackney'd in business, wearied at that oar, Which thousands, once fast chain'd to, quit no more, But which, when life at ebb runs weak and low,

'Write to Sardis,' saith the Lord, And write what he declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word,

To those who know the Lord I speak, Is my beloved near? The bridegroom of my soul I seek,

Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains, And mourns, with much and frequent smart,

Also written at the request of Lady Austen. Air''The Lass of Peatie's Mill.' When all within is peace,

Written in the summer of 1783, at the request of Lady Austen, who gave the sentiment. Air''My fond Shepherds of late.' No longer I follow a sound;

Deem not, sweet rose, that bloom'st' midst many a thorn, Thy friend, though to a cloister's shade consign'd, Can e'er forget the charms he left behind,

Drawn at Eartham in the 61st year of my age, and in the months of August and September 1792. Romney, expert infallibly to trace On chart or canvas, not the form alone

Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain, Hears thee by cruel men and impious call'd Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose the enthrall'd

On His Emphatical And Interesting Delivery Of The Defence Of Warren Hastings, Esq., In The House Of Lords. Cowper, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard, Legends prolix delivers in the ears

Hayley'thy tenderness fraternal shown In our first interview, delightful guest! To Mary, and me for her dear sake distress'd,

In Returning A Poem Of Mr. Cowper's, Lent To The Writer, On Condition She Should Neither Show It Nor Take A Copy. What wonder! if my wavering hand Had dared to disobey,

Subjoined To The Yearly Bill Of Mortality Of The Parish Of All Saints, Northampton, Anno Domini 1787. (Composed for John Cox, parish clerk of Northampton.) Pallida mors 'quo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,

'Me too, perchance, in future days, The sculptured stone shall show, With Paphian myrtle or with bays

O Lord, my best desire fulfil, And help me to resign Life, health, and comfort to thy will,

A. You told me, I remember, glory, built On selfish principles, is shame and guilt; The deeds that men admire as half divine,

The billows swell, the winds are high, Clouds overcast my wintry sky; Out of the depths to thee I call, -

Ah, how the Human Mind wearies herself With her own wand'rings, and, involved in gloom Impenetrable, speculates amiss!

In Scotland's realms, where trees are few, Nor even shrubs abound; But where, however bleak the view,

Obscurest night involved the sky, The Atlantic billows roar'd, When such a destined wretch as I,

Honour and happiness unite To make the Christian's name a praise; How fair the scene, how clear the light,

Muse'hide his name of whom I sing, Lest his surviving house thou bring For his sake into scorn,

Close by the threshold of a door nail'd fast Three kittens sat; each kitten look'd aghast. I, passing swift and inattentive by,

The Lord will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; Then tell me, gracious God, is mine

The Lord proclaims his grace abroad! Behold, I change your hearts of stone; Each shall renounce his idol-god,

The Argument. Thyrsis and Damon, shepherds and neighbours, had always pursued the same studies, and had, from their earliest days, been united in the closest friendship. Thyrsis, while traveling for improve- ment, received intelligence of the death of Damon, and, after a time, returning and finding it true, deplores himself and his solitary condition, in this poem. By Damon is to be understood Charles Diodati, connected with the Italian city of Lucca by his Father's side, in other respects an Englishman; a youth of uncommon genius, erudition, and virtue.

A New Song, to a Tune never sung before. I sing of a journey to Clifton,[1] We would have performed, if we could;

John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-band captain eke was he

The noon was shady, and soft airs Swept Ouse's silent tide, When, 'scaped from literary cares,

Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way; While meaner things, whom instinct leads,

A Peasant to his lord yearly court, Presenting pippins of so rich a sort That he, displeased to have a part alone,

The greenhouse is my summer seat; My shrubs displaced from that retreat Enjoy'd the open air;

An Illustration. When a bar of pure silver or ingot of gold Is sent to be flatted or wrought into length,

(a brief fragment of an extensive projected poem.) 'I could be well content, allowed the use Of past experience, and the wisdom glean'd

Hear what God the Lord hath spoken, 'O my people, faint and few, Comfortless, afflicted, broken,

How blest thy creature is, O God, When, with a single eye, He views the lustre of thy word,

Sin enslaved me many years, And led me bound and blind; Till at length a thousand fears

To tell the Saviour all my wants, How pleasing is the task! Nor less to praise him when he grants

Thy mansion is the Christian's heart, O Lord, thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart,

Argument Of The First Book. The book opens with an account of a pestilence that prevailed in the Grecian camp, and the cause of it is assigned. A council is called, in which fierce altercation takes place between Agamemnon and Achilles. The latter solemnly renounces the field. Agamemnon, by his heralds, demands Bris'is, and Achilles resigns her. He makes his complaint to Thetis, who undertakes to plead his cause with Jupiter. She pleads it, and prevails. The book concludes with an account of what passed in Heaven on that occasion. * * * * *

Argument Of The Second Book. Jupiter, in pursuance of his purpose to distress the Grecians in answer to the prayer of Thetis, deceives Agamemnon by a dream. He, in consequence of it, calls a council, the result of which is that the army shall go forth to battle. Thersites is mutinous, and is chastised by Ulysses. Ulysses, Nestor, and Agamemnon, harangue the people; and preparation is made for battle. An exact account follows of the forces on both sides. [1]All night both Gods and Chiefs equestrian slept,

Argument Of The Third Book. The armies meet. Paris throws out a challenge to the Grecian Princes. Menelaus accepts it. The terms of the combat are adjusted solemnly by Agamemnon on the part of Greece, and by Priam on the part of Troy. The combat ensues, in which Paris is vanquished, whom yet Venus rescues. Agamemnon demands from the Trojans a performance of the covenant. [1]Now marshall'd all beneath their several chiefs,

Argument Of The Fourth Book. In a Council of the Gods, a dispute arises between Jupiter and Juno, which is at last compromised, Jove consenting to dispatch Minerva with a charge to incite some Trojan to a violation of the truce. Minerva descends for that purpose, and in the form of Laodocus, a son of Priam, exhorts Pandarus to shoot at Menelaus, and succeeds. Menelaus is wounded, and Agamemnon having consigned him to the care of Machaon, goes forth to perform the duties of commander-in-chief, in the encouragement of his host to battle. The battle begins. Now, on the golden floor of Jove's abode

Argument Of The Ninth Book. By advice of Nestor, Agamemnon sends Ulysses, Phoenix, and Ajax to the tent of Achilles with proposals of reconciliation. They execute their commission, but without effect. Phoenix remains with Achilles; Ulysses and Ajax return. So watch'd the Trojan host; but thoughts of flight,

Argument Of The Fifth Book. Diomede is extraordinarily distinguished. He kills Pandarus, who had violated the truce, and wounds first Venus and then Mars. Then Athen'an Pallas on the son

ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH BOOK. The battle is continued. The Trojans being closely pursued, Hector by the advice of Helenus enters Troy, and recommends it to Hecuba to go in solemn procession to the temple of Minerva; she with the matrons goes accordingly. Hector takes the opportunity to find out Paris, and exhorts him to return to the field of battle. An interview succeeds between Hector and Andromache, and Paris, having armed himself in the mean time, comes up with Hector at the close of it, when they sally from the gate together. Thus was the field forsaken by the Gods.

Argument Of The Seventh Book. Ajax and Hector engage in single combat. The Grecians fortify their camp. So saying, illustrious Hector through the gates

Argument Of The Eighth Book. Jove calls a council, in which he forbids all interference of the Gods between the Greeks and Trojans. He repairs to Ida, where, having consulted the scales of destiny, he directs his lightning against the Grecians. Nestor is endangered by the death of one of his horses. Diomede delivers him. In the chariot of Diomede they both hasten to engage Hector, whose charioteer is slain by Diomede. Jupiter again interposes by his thunders, and the whole Grecian host, discomfited, is obliged to seek refuge within the rampart. Diomede, with others, at sight of a favorable omen sent from Jove in answer to Agamemnon's prayer, sallies. Teucer performs great exploits, but is disabled by Hector. Juno and Pallas set forth from Olympus in aid of the Grecians, but are stopped by Jupiter, who reascends from Ida, and in heaven foretells the distresses which await the Grecians. Hector takes measures for the security of Troy during the night, and prepares his host for an assault to be made on the Grecian camp in the morning.

Argument Of The Tenth Book. Diomede and Ulysses enter the Trojan host by night, and slay Rhesus. All night the leaders of the host of Greece

Argument Of The Eleventh Book. Agamemnon distinguishes himself. He is wounded, and retires. Diomede is wounded by Paris; Ulysses by Socus. Ajax with Menelaus flies to the relief of Ulysses, and Eurypylus, soon after, to the relief of Ajax. While he is employed in assisting Ajax, he is shot in the thigh by Paris, who also wounds Machaon. Nestor conveys Machaon from the field. Achilles dispatches Patroclus to the tent of Nestor, and Nestor takes that occasion to exhort Patroclus to engage in battle, clothed in the armor of Achilles. Aurora from Tithonus' side arose

Argument Of The Twelfth Book. The Trojans assail the ramparts, and Hector forces the gates. So was Menoetius' gallant son employ'd

Argument Of The Thirteenth Book. Neptune engages on the part of the Grecians. The battle proceeds. Deiphobus advances to combat, but is repulsed by Meriones, who losing his spear, repairs to his tent for another. Teucer slays Imbrius, and Hector Amphimachus. Neptune, under the similitude of Thoas, exhorts Idomeneus. Idomeneus having armed himself in his tent, and going forth to battle, meets Meriones. After discourse held with each other, Idomeneus accommodates Meriones with a spear, and they proceed to battle. Idomeneus slays Othryoneus, and Asius. Deiphobus assails Idomeneus, but, his spear glancing over him, kills Hypsenor. Idomeneus slays Alcatho's, son-in-law of Anchises. Deiphobus and Idomeneus respectively summon their friends to their assistance, and a contest ensues for the body of Alcatho's. [1]When Jove to Hector and his host had given

Argument Of The Fourteenth Book. Agamemnon and the other wounded Chiefs taking Nestor with them, visit the battle. Juno having borrowed the Cestus of Venus, first engages the assistance of Sleep, then hastens to Ida to inveigle Jove. She prevails. Jove sleeps; and Neptune takes that opportunity to succor the Grecians. Nor was that cry by Nestor unperceived

Argument Of The Twenty-Fourth Book. Priam, by command of Jupiter, and under conduct of Mercury, seeks Achilles in his tent, who admonished previously by Thetis, consents to accept ransom for the body of Hector. Hector is mourned, and the manner of his funeral, circumstantially described, concludes the poem. The games all closed, the people went dispersed

Argument Of The Nineteenth Book. Achilles is reconciled to Agamemnon, and clothed in new armor forged by Vulcan, leads out the Myrmidons to battle. Now rose the morn in saffron vest attired

Argument Of The Fifteenth Book. Jove, awaking and seeing the Trojans routed, threatens Juno. He sends Iris to admonish Neptune to relinquish the battle, and Apollo to restore health to Hector. Apollo armed with the 'gis, puts to flight the Grecians; they are pursued home to their fleet, and Telamonian Ajax slays twelve Trojans bringing fire to burn it. But when the flying Trojans had o'erpass'd

Argument Of The Sixteenth Book. Achilles, at the suit of Patroclus, grants him his own armor, and permission to lead the Myrmidons to battle. They, sallying, repulse the Trojans. Patroclus slays Sarpedon, and Hector, when Apollo had first stripped off his armor and Euphorbus wounded him, slays Patroclus. Such contest for that gallant bark they waged.

Argument Of The Seventeenth Book. Sharp contest ensues around the body of Patroclus. Hector puts on the armor of Achilles. Menelaus, having dispatched Antilochus to Achilles with news of the death of Patroclus, returns to the battle, and, together with Meriones, bears Patroclus off the field, while the Ajaces cover their retreat. Nor Menelaus, Atreus' valiant son,

Argument Of The Eighteenth Book. Achilles, by command of Juno, shows himself to the Trojans, who fly at his appearance; Vulcan, at the insistence of Thetis, forges for him a suit of armor. Thus burn'd the battle like devouring fire.

Argument Of The Twentieth Book. By permission of Jupiter the Gods descend into the battle, and range themselves on either side respectively. Neptune rescues 'neas from death by the hand of Achilles, from whom Apollo, soon after, rescues Hector. Achilles slays many Trojans. The Grecians, thus, before their lofty ships

Argument Of The Twenty-First Book. Achilles having separated the Trojans, and driven one part of them to the city and the other into the Scamander, takes twelve young men alive, his intended victims to the manes of Patroclus. The river overflowing his banks with purpose to overwhelm him, is opposed by Vulcan, and gladly relinquishes the attempt. The battle of the gods ensues. Apollo, in the form of Agenor, decoys Achilles from the town, which in the mean time the Trojans enter and shut the gates against him. [1]But when they came, at length, where Xanthus winds

Argument Of The Twenty-Second Book. Achilles slays Hector. Thus they, throughout all Troy, like hunted fawns

Argument Of The Twenty-Third Book. The body of Patroclus is burned, and the funeral games ensue. Such mourning was in Troy; meantime the Greeks

Two nymphs, both nearly of an age, Of numerous charms possess'd, A warm dispute once chanced to wage,

The Spirit breathes upon the Word, And brings the truth to sight; Precepts and promises afford

The nymph must lose her female friend, If more admired than she' But where will fierce contention end,

Thus says the prophet of the Turk, Good Mussulman, abstain from pork; There is a part in every swine

Rebellion is my theme all day; I only wish 'twould come (As who knows but perhaps it may?)

A hermit (or if 'chance you hold That title now too trite and old), A man, once young, who lived retired

'Twas in the glad season of spring, Asleep at the dawn of the day, I dream'd what I cannot but sing,

What thousands never knew the road! What thousands hate it when 'tis known! None but the chosen tribes of God

There is a field, through which I often pass, Thick overspread with moss and silky grass, Adjoining close to Kilwick's echoing wood,

Forced from home and all its pleasures, Afric's coast I left forlorn; To increase a stranger's treasures,

The new-born child of gospel grace, Like some fair tree when summer's nigh, Beneath Emmanuel's shining face

A nightingale, that all day long Had cheer'd the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended,

A Philosopher, included in the same sentence of condemnation with several guilty persons among whom he had been apprehended, sent the following lines, composed suddenly in the moment when he was going to death, to a certain King whom had ignorantly condemned him. Know this, O King! that if thou shalt destroy Me, no man's enemy and who have liv'd

The pine-apples, in triple row, Were basking hot, and all in blow; A bee of most discerning taste

Maria! I have every good For thee wish'd many a time, Both sad, and in a cheerful mood,

An Oyster, cast upon the shore, Was heard, though never heard before, Complaining in a speech well worded,

The poplars are fell'd, farewell to the shade, And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade; The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves,

Si quid loquar audiendam.'Hor. Lib. iv. Od. 2. Sing, muse (if such a theme, so dark, so long May find a muse to grace it with a song),

A poet's cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire

The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower, Which Mary to Anna convey'd, The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flower,

My former hopes are fled, My terror now begins; I feel, alas! that I am dead

Oh, happy shades'to me unblest! Friendly to peace, but not to me! How ill the scene that offers rest,

Ye sons of earth, prepare the plough, Break up the fallow ground; The sower is gone forth to sow,

["The history of the following production is briefly this:--A lady, fond of blank verse, demanded a poem of that kind from the author, and gave him the SOFA for a subject. He obeyed, and having much leisure, connected another subject with it; and, pursuing the train of thought to which his situation and turn of mind led him, brought forth, at length, instead of the trifle which he at first intended, a serious affair--a volume.] I sing the Sofa. I, who lately sang Truth, Hope, and Charity, and touched with awe

Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit,

As one who, long in thickets and in brakes Entangled, winds now this way and now that His devious course uncertain, seeking home;

Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon

'Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds, That crowd away before the driving wind,

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds, And as the mind is pitched the ear is pleased With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave;

My soul is sad, and much dismay'd, See, Lord, what legions of my foes, With fierce Apollyon at their head,

Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord, And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word,

What Nature, alas! has denied To the delicate growth of our isle, Art has in a measure supplied,

To the Rev. William Cawthorne Unwin, Rector of Stock in Essex, the tutor of his two sons, the following poem, recommending private tuition in preference to an education at school, is inscribed, by his affectionate friend, - Olney, Nov. 6, 1784. William Cowper. It is not from his form, in which we trace

If Gideon's fleece, which drench'd with dew he found While moisture none refresh'd the herbs around, Might fitly represent the church, endow'd

Christina, maiden of heroic mien! Star of the North! of northern stars the queen! Behold, what wrinkles I have earn'd, and how

Austin! accept a grateful verse from me, The poet's treasure, no inglorious fee. Loved by the muses, thy ingenuous mind

[1]Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa, is an Italian Nobleman of the highest estimation among his countrymen, for Genius, Literature,and military accomplishments. To Him Torquato Tasso addressed his "Dialogue on Friendship," for he was much the friend of Tasso, who has also celebrated him among the other princes of his country, in his poem entitled "Jerusalem Conquered" (Book XX). Among cavaliers magnanimous and courteous - Manso is resplendent.

My halting Muse, that dragg'st by choice along Thy slow, slow step, in melancholy song! And lik'st that pace expressive of thy cares

Kinsman beloved, and as a son, by me! When I behold the fruit of thy regard, The sculptured form of my old favourite bard,

Angelus unicuique suus (sic credite gentes) Obtigit aethereis ales ab ordinibus. Quid mirum? Leonora tibi si gloria major,

The twentieth year is well nigh past Since first our sky was overcast; Ah! would that this might be the last!

The twentieth year is well-nigh past Since first our sky was overcast, Ah, would that this might be the last!

How many between east and west Disgrace their parent earth, Whose deeds constrain us to detest

Strophe I My two-fold Book! single in show But double in Contents,

The bard, if e'er he feel at all, Must sure be quicken'd by a call Both on his heart and head,

A noble theme demands a noble verse, In such I thank you for your fine oysters. The barrel was magnificently large,

Maria, could Horace have guess'd What honour awaited his ode To his own little volume address'd,

Mary! I want a lyre with other strings, Such aid from heaven as some have feign'd they drew, An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new

My gentle Anne, whom heretofore, When I was young, and thou no more Than plaything for a nurse,

Oh that Pieria's spring[1] would thro' my breast Pour its inspiring influence, and rush No rill, but rather an o'erflowing flood!

Dear President, whose art sublime Gives perpetuity to time, And bids transactions of a day,

Where hast thou floated, in what seas pursued Thy pastime? when wast thou an egg new spawn'd, Lost in the immensity of ocean's waste?

Whence is it that, amazed, I hear From yonder wither'd spray, This foremost morn of all the year,

That ocean you have late survey'd, Those rocks I too have seen; But I, afflicted and dismay'd,

Unwin, I should but ill repay The kindness of a friend, Whose worth deserves as warm a lay

June 22, 1782. My dear Friend, If reading verse be your delight,

The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait

How quick the change from joy to woe, How chequer'd is our lot below! Seldom we view the prospect fair;

My rose, Gravina, blooms anew, And steep'd not now in rain, But in Castilian streams by you,

Hastings! I knew thee young, and of a mind, While young, humane, conversable, and kind, Nor can I well believe thee, gentle then,

Dear architect of fine chateaux in air, Worthier to stand for ever, if they could, Than any built of stone or yet of wood,

ARGUMENT In a council of the Gods, Minerva calls their attention to Ulysses, still a wanderer. They resolve to grant him a safe return to Ithaca. Minerva descends to encourage Telemachus, and in the form of Mentes directs him in what manner to proceed. Throughout this book the extravagance and profligacy of the suitors are occasionally suggested. Muse make the man thy theme, for shrewdness famed

ARGUMENT Telemachus having convened an assembly of the Greecians, publicly calls on the Suitors to relinquish the house of Ulysses. During the continuance of the Council he has much to suffer from the petulance of the Suitors, from whom, having informed them of his design to undertake a voyage in hope to obtain news of Ulysses, he asks a ship, with all things necessary for the purpose. He is refused, but is afterwards furnished with what he wants by Minerva, in the form of Mentor. He embarks in the evening without the privity of his mother, and the Goddess sails with him. Aurora, rosy daughter of the dawn,

ARGUMENT Telemachus arriving at Pylus, enquires of Nestor concerning Ulysses. Nestor relates to him all that he knows or has heard of the Greecians since their departure from the siege of Troy, but not being able to give him any satisfactory account of Ulysses, refers him to Menelaus. At evening Minerva quits Telemachus, but discovers herself in going. Nestor sacrifices to the Goddess, and the solemnity ended, Telemachus sets forth for Sparta in one of Nestor's chariots, and accompanied by Nestor's son, Pisistratus. The sun, emerging from the lucid waves,

ARGUMENT Telemachus, with Pisistratus, arrives at the palace of Menelaus, from whom he receives some fresh information concerning the return of the Greecians, and is in particular told on the authority of Proteus, that his father is detained by Calypso. The suitors, plotting against the life of Telemachus, lie in wait to intercept him in his return to Ithaca. Penelope being informed of his departure, and of their designs to slay him, becomes inconsolable, but is relieved by a dream sent to her from Minerva. In hollow Laced'mon's spacious vale

ARGUMENT Ulysses discovers himself to the Ph'acians, and begins the history of his adventures. He destroys Ismarus, city of the Ciconians; arrives among the Lotophagi; and afterwards at the land of the Cyclops. He is imprisoned by Polypheme in his cave, who devours six of his companions; intoxicates the monster with wine, blinds him while he sleeps, and escapes from him. Then answer, thus, Ulysses wise return'd.

ARGUMENT Mercury bears to Calypso a command from Jupiter that she dismiss Ulysses. She, after some remonstrances, promises obedience, and furnishes him with instruments and materials, with which he constructs a raft. He quits Calypso's island; is persecuted by Neptune with dreadful tempests, but by the assistance of a sea nymph, after having lost his raft, is enabled to swim to Ph'acia. Aurora from beside her glorious mate

ARGUMENT Minerva designing an interview between the daughter of Alcino's and Ulysses, admonishes her in a dream to carry down her clothes to the river, that she may wash them, and make them ready for her approaching nuptials. That task performed, the Princess and her train amuse themselves with play; by accident they awake Ulysses; he comes forth from the wood, and applies himself with much address to Nausicaa, who compassionating his distressed condition, and being much affected by the dignity of his appearance, interests himself in his favour, and conducts him to the city. There then the noble suff'rer lay, by sleep

ARGUMENT Nausicaa returns from the river, whom Ulysses follows. He halts, by her direction, at a small distance from the palace, which at a convenient time he enters. He is well received by Alcino's and his Queen; and having related to them the manner of his being cast on the shore of Scheria, and received from Alcino's the promise of safe conduct home, retires to rest. Such pray'r Ulysses, toil-worn Chief renown'd,

ARGUMENT The Ph'acians consult on the subject of Ulysses. Preparation is made for his departure. Antino's entertains them at his table. Games follow the entertainment. Demodocus the bard sings, first the loves of Mars and Venus, then the introduction of the wooden horse into Troy. Ulysses, much affected by his song, is questioned by Alcino's, whence, and who he is, and what is the cause of his sorrow. But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

ARGUMENT Ulysses, in pursuit of his narrative, relates his arrival at the island of 'olus, his departure thence, and the unhappy occasion of his return thither. The monarch of the winds dismisses him at last with much asperity. He next tells of his arrival among the L'strygonians, by whom his whole fleet, together with their crews, are destroyed, his own ship and crew excepted. Thence he is driven to the island of Circe. By her the half of his people are transformed into swine. Assisted by Mercury, he resists her enchantments himself, and prevails with the Goddess to recover them to their former shape. In consequence of Circe's instructions, after having spent a complete year in her palace, he prepares for a voyage to the infernal regions. We came to the 'olian isle; there dwells

ARGUMENT Ulysses relates to Alcino's his voyage to the infernal regions, his conference there with the prophet Tiresias concerning his return to Ithaca, and gives him an account of the heroes, heroines, and others whom he saw there. Arriving on the shore, and launching, first,

ARGUMENT Ulysses, pursuing his narrative, relates his return from the shades to Circe's island, the precautions given him by that Goddess, his escape from the Sirens, and from Scylla and Charybdis; his arrival in Sicily, where his companions, having slain and eaten the oxen of the Sun, are afterward shipwrecked and lost; and concludes the whole with an account of his arrival, alone, on the mast of his vessel, at the island of Calypso. And now, borne seaward from the river-stream

ARGUMENT Ulysses, having finished his narrative, and received additional presents from the Ph'acians, embarks; he is conveyed in his sleep to Ithaca, and in his sleep is landed on that island. The ship that carried him is in her return transformed by Neptune to a rock. Minerva meets him on the shore, enables him to recollect his country, which, till enlightened by her, he believed to be a country strange to him, and they concert together the means of destroying the suitors. The Goddess then repairs to Sparta to call thence Telemachus, and Ulysses, by her aid disguised like a beggar, proceeds towards the cottage of Eum'us.

ARGUMENT Ulysses arriving at the house of Eum'us, is hospitably entertained, and spends the night there. Leaving the haven-side, he turn'd his steps

ARGUMENT Ulysses and Telemachus remove the arms from the hall to an upper-chamber. The Hero then confers with Penelope, to whom he gives a fictitious narrative of his adventures. Euryclea, while bathing Ulysses, discovers him by a scar on his knee, but he prevents her communication of that discovery to Penelope. They went, but left the noble Chief behind

ARGUMENT Telemachus, admonished by Minerva, takes leave of Menelaus, but ere he sails, is accosted by Theoclymenos, a prophet of Argos, whom at his earnest request he takes on board. In the meantime Eum'us relates to Ulysses the means by which he came to Ithaca. Telemachus arriving there, gives orders for the return of his bark to the city, and repairs himself to Eum'us. Meantime to Laced'mon's spacious vale

ARGUMENT Telemachus dispatches Eum'us to the city to inform Penelope of his safe return from Pylus; during his absence, Ulysses makes himself known to his son. The suitors, having watched for Telemachus in vain, arrive again at Ithaca. It was the hour of dawn, when in the cot

ARGUMENT Telemachus returns to the city, and relates to his mother the principal passages of his voyage; Ulysses, conducted by Eum'us, arrives there also, and enters among the suitors, having been known only by his old dog Argus, who dies at his feet. The curiosity of Penelope being excited by the account which Eum'us gives her of Ulysses, she orders him immediately into her presence, but Ulysses postpones the interview till evening, when the suitors having left the palace, there shall be no danger of interruption. Eum'us returns to his cottage. Now look'd Aurora from the East abroad,

ARGUMENT The beggar Irus arrives at the palace; a combat takes place between him and Ulysses, in which Irus is by one blow vanquished. Penelope appears to the suitors, and having reminded them of the presents which she had a right to expect from them, receives a gift from each. Eurymachus, provoked by a speech of Ulysses, flings a foot-stool at him, which knocks down the cup-bearer; a general tumult is the consequence, which continues, till by the advice of Telemachus, seconded by Amphinomus, the suitors retire to their respective homes. Now came a public mendicant, a man

ARGUMENT Ulysses, doubting whether he shall destroy or not the women servants who commit lewdness with the suitors, resolves at length to spare them for the present. He asks an omen from Jupiter, and that he would grant him also to hear some propitious words from the lips of one in the family. His petitions are both answered. Preparation is made for the feast. Whilst the suitors sit at table, Pallas smites them with a horrid frenzy. Theoclymenus, observing the strange effects of it, prophesies their destruction, and they deride his prophecy. But in the vestibule the Hero lay

ARGUMENT Penelope proposes to the suitors a contest with the bow, herself the prize. They prove unable to bend the bow; when Ulysses having with some difficulty possessed himself of it, manages it with the utmost ease, and dispatches his arrow through twelve rings erected for the trial. Minerva, now, Goddess c'rulean-eyed,

ARGUMENT Ulysses, with some little assistance from Telemachus, Eum'us and Philoetius, slays all the suitors, and twelve of the female servants who had allowed themselves an illicit intercourse with them, are hanged. Melanthius also is punished with miserable mutilation. Then, girding up his rags, Ulysses sprang

ARGUMENT Ulysses with some difficulty, convinces Penelope of his identity, who at length, overcome by force of evidence, receives him to her arms with transport. He entertains her with a recital of his adventures, and in his narration the principal events of the poem are recapitulated. In the morning, Ulysses, Telemachus, the herdsman and the swine-herd depart into the country. And now, with exultation loud the nurse

ARGUMENT Mercury conducts the souls of the suitors down to Ades. Ulysses discovers himself to Laertes, and quells, by the aid of Minerva, an insurrection of the people resenting the death of the suitors. And now Cyllenian Hermes summon'd forth

I Fair Lady, whose harmonious name the Rheno Through all his grassy vale delights to hear,

O God, whose favourable eye The sin-sick soul revives, Holy and heavenly is the joy

Lord, my soul with pleasure springs, When Jesus' name I hear; And when God the Spirit brings

Pensantur trutin'Hor. Lib. ii. Ep. 1. Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd, His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,

God gives his mercies to be spent; Your hoard will do your soul no good; Gold is a blessing only lent,

Come, ponder well, for 'tis no jest, To laugh it would be wrong, The troubles of a worthy priest,

To watch the storms, and hear the sky Give all our almanacks the lie; To shake with cold, and see the plains

O Friendship! cordial of the human breast! So little felt, so fervently profess'd! Thy blossoms deck our unsuspecting years;

Spoken At The Westminster Election Next After His Decease. Our good old friend is gone; gone to his rest, Whose social converse was itself a feast.

Fortune! I thank thee: gentle goddess! thanks! Not that my muse, though bashful, shall deny She would have thank'd thee rather hadst thou cast

I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute; From the centre all round to the sea

Oh! for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame; A light to shine upon the road

'Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour's power to know,

This is the feast of heavenly wine, And God invites to sup; The juices of the living vine

Ere God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before he fill'd the fountains

Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth (Since which I number threescore winters past),