Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral Phillis Wheatley (first color ebook reader .TXT) đ
- Author: Phillis Wheatley
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âHe wings his passage throâ the yielding air?â
Methinks a cherub bending from the skies
Observes the question, and serene replies,
âIn heavâns high palaces your babe appears:
âPrepare to meet him, and dismiss your tears.â
Shall not thâ intelligence your grief restrain,
And turn the mournful to the cheerful strain?
Cease your complaints, suspend each rising sigh,
Cease to accuse the Ruler of the sky.
Parents, no more indulge the falling tear:
Let Faith to heavânâs refulgent domes repair,
There see your infant, like a seraph glow:
What charms celestial in his numbers flow
Melodious, while the foul-enchanting strain
Dwells on his tongue, and fills thâ ethereal plain?
Enoughâ âfor ever cease your murmâring breath;
Not as a foe, but friend converse with Death,
Since to the port of happiness unknown
He brought that treasure which you call your own.
The gift of heavân intrusted to your hand
Cheerful resign at the divine command:
Not at your bar must sovâreign Wisdom stand. An Hymn to Humanity To S. P. G. Esq.; I
Lo! for this dark terrestrial ball
Forsakes his azure-paved hall
A prince of heavânly birth!
Divine Humanity behold.
What wonders rise, what charms unfold
At his descent to earth!
The bosoms of the great and good
With wonder and delight he viewâd,
And fixâd his empire there:
Him, close compressing to his breast,
The sire of gods and men addressâd,
âMy son, my heavânly fair!
âDescend to earth, there place thy throne;
âTo succour manâs afflicted son
âEach human heart inspire:
âTo act in bounties unconfinâd
âEnlarge the close contracted mind,
âAnd fill it with thy fire.â
Quick as the word, with swift career
He wings his course from star to star,
And leaves the bright abode.
The Virtue did his charms impart;
Their Gâ âžșâ y! then thy rapturâd heart
Perceivâd the rushing God:
For when thy pitying eye did see
The languid muse in low degree,
Then, then at thy desire
Descended the celestial nine;
Oâer me methought they deignâd to shine,
And deignâd to string my lyre.
Can Africâs muse forgetful prove?
Or can such friendship fail to move
A tender human heart?
Immortal Friendship laurel-crownâd
The smiling Graces all surround
With evâry heavânly Art.
While deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade
The hand of Death, and your dear daughter laid
In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow,
And racks your bosom with incessant woe,
Let Recollection take a tender part,
Assuage the raging tortures of your heart,
Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief,
And pour the heavânly nectar of relief:
Suspend the sigh, dear Sir, and check the groan,
Divinely bright your daughterâs Virtues shone:
How free from scornful pride her gentle mind,
Which neâer its aid to indigence declinâd!
Expanding free, it sought the means to prove
Unfailing charity, unbounded love!
She unreluctant flies to see no more
Her dear-lovâd parents on earthâs dusky shore:
Impatient heavânâs resplendent goal to gain,
She with swift progress cuts the azure plain,
Where grief subsides, where changes are no more,
And lifeâs tumultuous billows cease to roar;
She leaves her earthly mansion for the skies,
Where new creations feast her wondâring eyes.
To heavânâs high mandate cheerfully resignâd
She mounts, and leaves the rolling globe behind;
She, who late wishâd that Leonard might return,
Has ceasâd to languish, and forgot to mourn;
To the same high empyreal mansions come,
She joins her spouse, and smiles upon the tomb:
And thus I hear her from the realms above:
âLo! this the kingdom of celestial love!
âCould ye, fond parents, see our present bliss,
âHow soon would you each sigh, each fear dismiss?
âAmidst unutterâd pleasures whilst I play
âIn the fair sunshine of celestial day,
âAs far as grief affects an happy soul
âSo far doth grief my better mind controul,
âTo see on earth my aged parents mourn,
âAnd secret wish for Tâ âžșâ l to return:
âLet brighter scenes your evâning-hours employ:
âConverse with heavân, and taste the promisâd joyâ
Apolloâs wrath to man the dreadful spring
Of ills innumârous, tuneful goddess, sing!
Thou who didâst first thâ ideal pencil give,
And taughtâst the painter in his works to live,
Inspire with glowing energy of thought,
What Wilson painted, and what Ovid wrote.
Muse! lend thy aid, nor let me sue in vain,
Thoâ last and meanest of the rhyming train!
O guide my pen in lofty strains to show
The Phrygian queen, all beautiful in woe.
âTwas where Maeonia spreads her wide domain
Niobe dwelt, and held her potent reign:
See in her hand the regal sceptre shine,
The wealthy heir of Tantalus divine,
He most distinguishâd by Dodonean Jove,
To approach the tables of the gods above:
Her grandsire Atlas, who with mighty pains
Thâ ethereal axis on his neck sustains:
Her other grandsire on the throne on high
Rolls the loud-pealing thunder throâ the sky.
Her spouse, Amphion, who from Jove too springs,
Divinely taught to sweep the sounding strings.
Seven sprightly sons the royal bed adorn,
Seven daughters beauteous as the opâning morn,
As when Aurora fills the ravishâd sight,
And decks the orient realms with rosy light
From their bright eyes the living splendors play,
Nor can beholders bear the flashing ray.
Wherever, Niobe, thou turnâst thine eyes,
New beauties kindle, and new joys arise!
But thou hadâst far the happier mother provâd,
If this fair offspring had been less belovâd:
What if their charms exceed Auroraâs teint.
No words could tell them, and no pencil paint,
Thy love too vehement hastens to destroy
Each blooming maid, and each celestial boy.
Now Manto comes, enduâd with mighty skill,
The past to explore, the future to reveal.
Throâ Thebesâ wide streets Tiresiaâs daughter came,
Divine Latonaâs mandate to proclaim:
The Theban maids to hear the orders ran,
When thus Maeoniaâs prophetess began:
âGo, Thebans! great Latonaâs will obey,
âAnd pious tribute at her altars pay:
âWith rights divine, the goddess be implorâd,
âNor be her sacred offspring unadorâd.â
Thus Manto spoke. The Theban maids obey,
And pious tribute to the goddess pay.
The rich perfumes ascend in waving spires,
And altars blaze with consecrated fires;
The fair assembly moves with graceful air,
And leaves of laurel bind the flowing hair.
Niobe comes with all her royal race,
With charms unnumberâd, and superior grace:
Her Phrygian garments of delightful hue,
Inwove with gold,
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