He weeps, stamps wild, and to and fro now flies;
Now wrings his hands, and sends unmanly cries,
Arraigns his judge, affirms unjust he bleeds,
And now recants, and now for mercy pleads;
Now blames associates, raves with inward strife,
Upbraids himself; then thinks alone on life.
He rolls red swelling, tearful eyes around,
Sore smites his breast and sinks upon the ground.
He wails, he quite desponds, convulsive lies,
Shrinks from the fancied axe, and thinks he dies:
Revives, with hope inquires, stops short with fear,
Entreats ev n flattery, nor the worst will hear;
The worst, alas, his doom!-What friend replies?
Fach speaks with shaking head, and down-cast eyes.
One silence breaks, then pauses, drops a tear:
Nor hope affords, nor quite confirms his fear;
But what kind friendship part reserves unknown
Comes thundering in his keeper's surly tone.
Enough struck through and through, in ghastly stare,
He stands transfix'd, the statue of despair;
Nor aught of life, nor aught of death he knows,
Till thought returns, and brings return of woes:
Now pours a storm of grief in gushing streams:
That past-collected in himself he seems,
And with fore'd smile retires-His latent thought
Dark, horrid, as the prison's dismal vault.

If with himself at variance ever-wild,
With angry Heaven how stands he reconcil'd?
No penitential orisons arise;

Nay, he obtests the justice of the skies.
Not for his guilt, for sentenc'd life he moans;
His chains rough-clanking to discordant groans,
To bars harsh-grating, heavy-creaking doors,
Hoarse-echoing walls, and hollow-ringing floors,
To thoughts more dissonant, far, far less kind,
One anarchy, one chaos of the mind.

At length, fatigued with grief, on earth he lies:
But soon as sleep weighs down th' unwilling eyes,
Glad liberty appears, no damps annoy,
Treason succeeds, and all transforms to joy.
Proud palaces their glittering stores display:
Gain be pursues, and rapine leads the way. [prize;
What gold! What gems!-he strains to seize the
Quick from his touch dissolv'd, a cloud it flies.
Conscious he cries-and must I wake to weep?
Ah, yet return, return, delusive sleep!
Sleep comes; but liberty no more :—Unkind,
The dungeon glooms hang heavy on his mind.
Shrill winds are heard, and howling demons call;
Wide-flying portals seem unhing'd to fall:
Then close with sudden claps; a dreadful din!
He starts, wakes, storms, and all is hell within.

His genius flies-reflects he now on prayer?
Alas! bad spirits turn those thoughts to air.
What shall he next? What, straight relinquish
breath,

To bar a public, just, though shameful death?
Rash, horrid thought! yet now afraid to live,
Murderous he strikes-may Heaven the deed forgive!
Why had he thus false spirit to rebel?
And why not fortitude to suffer well?
Were his success, how terrible the blow!
And it recoils on him eternal woe,
Heaven this affliction then for mercy meant,
That a good end might close a life mispent.

Where no kind lips the hallow'd dirge resound,
Far from the compass of yon sacred ground;
Full in the centre of three meeting ways,
Stak'd through he lies.-Warn'd let the wicked gaze.

Near yonder fane, where Misery sleeps in peace,
Whose spire fast-lessens, as these shades increase,
Left to the north, whence oft brew'd tempests roll,
Tempests, dire emblems, Cosmo, of thy soul!
There mark that Cosmo, much for guile renown'd;
His grave by unbid plants of poison crown'd.
When out of power, through him the public good,
So strong his factious tribe, suspended stood.
In power, vindictive actions were his aim,
And patriots perish'd by th' ungenerous flame.
If the best cause he in the senate chose,
Ev'n right in him from some wrong motive rose.
The bad he loath'd, and would the weak despise;
Yet courted for dark ends, and shunu'd the wise,
When ill his purpose, eloquent his strain;
His malice had a look and voice humane.
His smile, the signal of some vile intent,
A private poniard, or empoison d scent;
Proud, yet to popular applause a slave;
No friend he honour'd, and no fue forgave.
His boons unfrequent, or unjust to need;
The hire of guilt, of infamy the meed :
But, if they chanc'd on learned worth to fall,
Bounty in him was ostentation all,

No true benevolence his thought sublimes,
His noblest actions are illustrious crimes,

Fine parts, which virtue might have rank d with fame,
Enhance his guilt, and magnify his shame.
When parts in probity in man combine,

In wisdom's eye, how charming must he shine!
Let him, less happy, truth at least impart,
And what he wants in genius bear in heart.

Cosmo, as death draws nigh, no more conceals
That storm of passion, which his nature feels:
He feels much fear, more anger, and most pride;
But pride and anger make all fear subside.
Dauntless he meets at length untimely fate;
A desperate spirit! rather fierce, than great.
Darkling he glides along the dreary coast,
A sullen, wandering, self-tormenting ghost.

Where veiny marble dignities the ground,
With emblem fair in sculpture rising round,
Just where a crossing, lengthening aisle we find,
Full cast; whence God returns to judge mankind,
Once-lov'd Horatio sleeps, a mind elate!
Lamented shade, ambition was thy fate.
Ev'n angels, wondering, oft his worth survey'd;
Behold a man, like one of us! they said.
Straight heard the Furies, and with envy glar'd,
And to precipitate his fall prepar'd.

First Avarice came. In vain self-love she press'd;
The poor he pity'd still, and still redress'd:
Learning was his, and knowledge to commend,
Of arts a patron, and of want a friend.
Next came Revenge: but her essay how vain!
Not hate, nor envy, in his heart remain.
No previous malice could his mind engage,
Malice the mother of vindictive rage.
No-from his life his foes might learn to live;
He held it still a triumph to forgive.
At length Ambition urg'd his country's weal,
Assuming the fair look of public Zeal;
Still in his breast so generous glow'd the flame,
The vice, when there, a virtue half became.
His pitying eye saw millions in distress,
He deem'd it godlike to have power to bless:
Thus, when unguarded, treason stain'd him o er;
And virtue and content were then no more.

But when to death by rigorous justice doom'd,
His genuine spirit saint-like state resum❜d,
Oft from soft penitence distill'd a tear;
Oft hope in heavenly mercy lighten'd fear;
Oft would a drop from struggling nature fall,
And then a smile of patience brighten all.

He seeks in heaven a friend, nor seeks in vain.
His guardian angel swift descends again;
And resolution thus bespeaks a mind
Not scorning life, yet all to death resign'd;
--"Ye chains, fit only to restrain the will
Of common, desperate veterans in ill,
Though rankling on my limbs ye lie, declare,
Did e'er my rising soul your pressure wear?
No!-free as liberty, and quick as light,
To worlds remote she takes unbounded flight.
Ye dungeon glooms, that dim corporeal eyes,
Could ye once blet her prospect of the skies?
No!-from her clearer sight ye fled away,
Like errour, piere'd by truth's resistless ray.
Ye walls, that witness my repentant moan!
Ye echoes, that to raidnight sorrows groan!
Do I, in wrath, to you el fate complain?
Or once betray fear's those inglorious pain?
No-Hail, twiceal then, ignominious death!
Behold how willing glides ny pasting breath!
Far greater, better far-av, far indeed!
Like me, have saner'd, and like ine will bleed.
Apostles, patrrels, prophets, martyrs all,
Like me once fell, Lor tommur'd at their fall.
Shali I, whore days, at het, no ill design'd,
Whose virtue Sione nut, though 1 lov'd mankind,
Shall I, now gani wretch, shall I repine?
Oh, no! to juste: It me ble resign!
Quick, as a friend, wou d I embrace my foc!
He taught me patience who first taught me woe;
But friends are foes, they render woc severe,
For me they wail, from ine extort the tear.
Not those, yet absent, missive griefs control;
These periods weep, those rave, and these condole;
At entrance shrieks a friend, with pale surprise;
Another panting, prostrate, speechless lies;
One gripes my hand, one sobs upon my breast!
Ah, who can bear it shocks, it murders rest
And is it yours, alas! my niends to feel?
And is it mine to comfort, mine to heal?
Is mine the patience, yours the borom strife?
Ah! would rash love hure back my thoughts to life;
Adieu, dear, dangerous mourners! swift depart!
Ah, fly me! fly !--I tear ye from my heart.
"Yesaints, who fears of death could ne'er control,
In my last hour conpose, support my soul !
See my blood wash repented sin away!
Receive, receive me to eternal day!"

With words like these the destin'd hero dies, While angels waft his soul to happier skies.

Distinction now gives way; yet on we talk,
Full darkness deepening o'er the formless walk.
Night treads not with light step the dewy gale,
Nor bright disteuds her star-embroider'd veil;
Her leaden feet, inclement damps distil,

Clouds shut her face, black winds her vesture fill;
An earth-bom meteor lights the sable skies
Fastward it shoots, and, sunk, forgotten dies.
So pride, that rose from dust to guilty power,
Glares out in vain; so dust shall pride devour.
Fishers, wh› yonder brink by torches gain,
With teethful tridents strike the scaly train.

Like snakes in cagles' claws, in vain they strive,
When heav'd aloft, and quivering yet alive.
While here, methought, our tine in converse
pass'd,

The Moon clouds muffled, and the night wore fast.
At prowling wolves was heard the mastiff's bay!
And the warn'd master's arms forbad the prey,
Thus treason steels, the patriot thus descries,
Forth springs the monarch, and the mischief flies.
Pale glow-worms glimmer'd through the depth of
night,

Scattering, like hope through fear, a doubtful light.
Lone Philomela tun'd the silent grove,

With pensive pleasure listen'd wakeful Love,
Half-dreaming Fancy form'd an angel's tongue,
And Pain forgot to groan, so sweet she sung.
The night-crone, with the melody aların'd,
Now paus'd, now listen'd, and awhile was charm'd;
But like the man, whose frequent stubborn will
Resists what kind, seraphic sounds instil,
Her heart the love-inspiring voice repell'd,
Her breast with agitating mischief swell'd;
Which clos'd her ear, and tempted to destroy
The tuneful life, that charms with virtuous joy.

Now fast we measure back the trackless way;
No friendly stars directive beans display.
But loa thousand lights shoot instant rays!
Yon kindling rock reflects the startling blaze.
I stand astonish'd-thus the Hermit cries:
"Fear not, but listen with enlig'd surprise!
Still mast these hours our mutual converse claim,
And cease to ceho still Olympia's name;
Grots, rivulets, groves, Olya's name forget,
Olympia now no sighing winds repeat.
Can I be mortal, and those hours no more,
Those amorous hours, that plaintive echoes bore ?
Am I the same? Ah no!---Behold a mind,
Unrutiled, firm, exalted, and refin'd!
Late months, that made the vernal season gay,
Saw my health languish off in pale decay.
No racking pain yet gave disease a date;
Norad, presageful thought preluded fate :
Yot number'd were ty days---my destin d end
Neer, and more neu-Nay, every fear suspe nd
I p: ss'd a weary, lingering, sleepless night:
Then rose, to walk ia morning's earliest light:
But few my steps--a faint, and cheerless few!
Refreshment from my ila, ing spirits flow.
When, low, retir'd beneath a cypress shade,
My limbs upon a fowery bank I laid,

Soou by soft-cree eg, murmuring winds compos'd.
A shuumber press'd any languid eyes-they clos'd:
But clos'd not long-Methought Olympia spoke;
Thrive loud she call d, and thrice the slumber broke.
I wak'd. Forth-, Eding from a neighbouring wood,
Full in my view the ladowy charmer stood.
Rapturous I started up to ciasp the shade;
But stagger'd, fell, and found my vitals fade:
A mantling chilles o'er my bosom spread,
As if that instant number'd with the dead.
Her voice now sent a far imperfect sound,
When in a swimming trance my pangs were drown'd.
Still farther off she call'd-With soft surprise,
I turn'd-but void of strength, and aid to rise;
Short, shorter, shorter yet, my breath I drew:
Then up my struggling soul unburthen'd flew.
Thus from a state, where sin and grief abide,
Heaven summon'd me to mercy-thus I died."

He said. Th' astonishment with which I start,
Like bolted ice runs shivering through my heart.
"Art thou not mortal then?" I cried. But lo!
His raiment lightens, and his features glow!
In shady ringlets falls a length of hair;
Embloom'd his aspect shines, enlarg'd his air.
Mild from his eyes enlivening glories beam;
Mild on his brow s ts majesty supreme.
Bright plumes of every dye, that round him flow,
Vest, robe, and wings, in varied lustre show.
He looks, and forward steps with mien divine;
A grace celestial gives him all to shine.
He speaks Nature is ravish'd at the sound,

The forests move, and streams stand listening round!
Thus he. "As incorruption I assum'd,

As instant in immortal youth I bloom`d!
Renew'd, and chang'd, I felt my vital springs,
With different lights discern'd the form of things;
To earth iny passions fell like mists away,
And reason open'd in eternal day.

Swifter than thought from world to world I flew,
Celestial knowledge shone in every view.
My food was truth-what transport could I miss?
My prospect, all infinitude of bliss.
Olympia met me first, and, smiling gay,
Onward to mercy led the shining way,
As far transcendant to her wonted air,
As her dear wonted self to many a fair!

In voice, and form, beauty more beauteous shows,
And harmony still more harmonious grows. [charms,
She points out souls, who taught me friendship's
They gaze, they glow, they spring into my arms!
Well pleas'd, high ancestors my view command;
Patrons and patriots all; a glorious band!
Horatio too, by well-born fate refin'd,

Shon out white-rob'd with saints, a spotless mind;
What once, below, ambition made him miss,
Humility here gain'd, a life of bliss!
Though late, let sinners then from sin depart!
Heaven never yet despis'd the contrite heart.
Last shone, with sweet, exalted lustre grac'd,
The Seraph-Bard, in highest order plac'd!
Seers, lovers, legislators, prelates, kings,
All raptur'd listen, as he raptur'd sings.
Sweetness and strength his look and lays employ,
Greet smiles with smiles, and every joy with joy:
Charmful he rose; his ever-charmful tongue
Joy to our second hymencals sung;
Still as we pass'd, the bright, celestial throng
Hail'd us in social love and heavenly song.

"Of that no more! my deathless friendship see!
I come an Angel to the Muse and thee.
These lights, that vibrate, and promiscuous shine,
Are emanations all of forms divine.

And here the Muse, though melted from thy gaze,
Stauds among spirits, mingling rays with rays.
If thou would'st peace attain, my words attend,
The last, fond words of thy departed friend!
True joy's a seraph, that to Heaven aspires,
Unhurt it triumphs mil' celestial choirs.
But should no cares a mortal state molest,
Life were a state of ignorance at best.

"Know then, if ills oblige thee to retire,
Those ills solemnity of thought inspire.
Did not the soul abroad for objects roam,
Whence could she learn to call ideas home?
Justly to know thyself, peruse mankind;
To know thy God, paint nature on thy mind:

THE reader will easily perceive these verses were begun, when my heart was gayer than it has been of late; and finished in hours of deepest melancholy.

I hope the world will do me the justice to believe, that no part of this flows from any real anger against the lady, to whom it is inscribed. Whatever undeserved severities I may have received at her hands, would she deal so candidly as acknowledge truth, she very well knows, by an experience of many years, that I have ever behaved myself towards her, like one who thought it his duty to support with patience all afflictions from that quarter. Indeed if I had not been capable of forgiving a nother, I must have blushed to receive pardon myself at the hands of my sovereign.

Neither, to say the truth, were the manner of my birth all, should I have any reason for complaint -When I am a little disposed to a gay turn of thinking, I consider, as I was a derelict from my cradle, I have the honour of a lawful claim to the best protection in Europe. For being a spot of earth, to which nobody pretends a title, I devolve naturally upon the king, as one of the rights of his royalty. While I presume to name his majesty, I look back, with confusion, upon the mercy I have lately experienced; because it is impossible to remember it, but with something I would fain forget, for the sake of my future peace, and alleviation of my past misfortune.

Strong as necessity, he starts away,
Climbs against wrongs, and brightens into day."
Thus unprophetic, lately misinspir'd,

I am thrown from them without repining-Possess

THE

RICHARD SAVAGE.

BASTARD.

[ways,

In gayer hours, when high my fancy ran,
The Muse, exulting, thus her lay began.
"Blest be the Bastard's birth! through wondrous
He shines eccentric like a comet's blaze!
No sickly fruit of faint compliance he !
He stampt in nature's mint of ectacy!
He lives to build, not boast, a generous race :
No tenth transmitter of a foolish face:
His daring hope, no sire's example bounds;
His first-born lights, no prejudice confounds.
He, kindling from within, requires no flame;
He glories in a Bastard's glowing name.

"Born to himself, by no possession led,
In freedom foster'd, and by fortune fed;
Nor guides, nor rules, his sovereign choice control,
His body independent as his soul;
Loos'd to the world's wide range---enjoy'd no aim,
Prescrib'd no duty, and assign'd no name :
Nature's unbounded son, he stands alone,
His heart unbiass'd, and his mind his own.
"O mother, yet no mother! 'tis to you,

My thanks for such distinguish'd claims are due,
You, unenslav'd to Nature's narrow laws,
Warm championess for freedom's sacred cause,
From all the dry devoirs of blood and line,
From ties maternal, moral and divine,
Discharg'd my grasping soul; push'd me from shore,
And lanch'd me into life without an oar.

"What had I lost, if, conjugally kind,
By nature hating, yet by vows confin'd,
Untaught the matrimonial bounds to slight,
And coldly conscious of a husband's right,
You had faint-drawn me with a form alone,
A lawful lump of life by force your own!
Then, while your backward will retrench'd desire,
And unconcurring spirits lent no fire,
I had been born your dull, domestic heir,
Load of your life, and motive of your care;
Perhaps been poorly rich, and meanly great,
The slave of pomp, a cypher in the state;
Lordly neglectful of a worth unknown,
And slumbering in a seat, by chance my own.
"Far nobler blessings wait the Bastard's lot;
Conceiv'd in rapture, and with tire begot!

O Memory! thou soul of joy and pain!
Thou actor of our passions o'er again!
Why dost thou aggravate the wretch's woe?
Why add continuous smart to every blow?
Few are my joys; alas! how soon forgot!
On that kind quarter thou invad'st me not:
While sharp and numberless my sorrows fall;
Yet thou repeat'st, and multiply'st them all?

Is chance a guilt? that my disasterous heart,
For mischief never meant, must ever smart?
Can self-defence be sin!-Ah, plead no more!
What though no purpos'd malice stain'd thee o'er?
Had Heaven befriended thy unhappy side,
Thou hadst not been provok'd-Or thou hadst died.

Far be the guilt of homeshed blood from all On whom, unsought, embroiling dangers fall! Still the pale dead revives, and lives to me, To me through Pity's eye condemn'd to see. Remembrance veils his rage, but swells his fate; Griev'd I forgive, and am grown cool too late. Young, and unthoughtful then; who knows, one day, What ripening virtues might have made their way? He might have liv'd till folly died in shame, Till kindling wisdom felt a thirst for faine. He might perhaps his country's friend have prov'd; Both happy, generous, candid, and belov'd, He might have sav'd some worth, now doom'd to fall; And I, perchance, in him, have murder'd all.

O fate of late repentance! always vain:
Thy remedies but lull undying pain.
Where shall my hope find rest?--No mother's care
Shielded my infant innocence with prayer:
No father's guardian hand my youth maintain'd,
Call'd forth my virtues, or from vice restrain'd.
Is it not thine to snatch some powerful arm,
First to advance, then skreen from future harm?
Am I return'd from death to live in pain?
Or would imperial Pity save in vain?
Distrusts it not-What blame can mercy find,
Which gives at once a life, and rears a mind?
Mother, miscall'd, farewell---of soul severe,
This sad reflection yet may force one tear:
All I was wretched by to you I ow'd,
Alone from strangers every comfort flow'd!

Lost to the life you gave, your son no more,
And now adopted, who was doom'd before,
New-born, I may a nobler mother claim,
But dare not whisper her immortal name;
Supremely lovely, and serenely great!
Majestic mother of a kneeling state!
Queen of a people's heart, who ne'er before
Agreed---yet now with one consent adore!
One contest yet remains in this desire,

Who most shall give applause, where all admire.