MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS. 317 'Twas an unclouded sky : The day-star sat On highest noon : No breezes fann'd the grove, Nor the musicians of the air pursu'd Their artless warblings ; while the sultry day Lay all diffus'd and slumbering on the bosom Of the white lily, the perfum'd jonquil, And lovely blushing rose. Then first my harp, Labouring with childish innocence and joy, Brake silence, and awoke the smiling hour With infant notes, saluting the fair skies, (Heaven's highest work) the fair enamell'd mends, And tall green shades along the winding banks Of Avon gently flowing. Thence my days Commenc'd harmonious ; there began my skill To vanquish care care by the sweet - sounding string- Hail happy hour, O blest remembrance hail ! And banish woes for ever. Harps were made For heaven's beatitudes : There Jesse's son Tunes his bold lyre with majesty of sound, To the creating and all - ruling power Not unattentive: While ten thousand tongues Of hymning seraphs and disbodied saints, Echo the joys and graces round the hills Of paradise, and spread Messiah's name. Transporting bliss ! Make haste, ye rolling spheres, Ye circling suns, ye winged minutes haste. Fulfil my destin'd period here, and raise The meanest son of harmony to join In that celestial concert. IV. The Hebrew Poet. This Ode represents the Difficulty of a just Translation of the Psalms of David, in all their Hebrew Glory; with an Apology for the Imitation of them in Christian Language. (The first Hint borrowed from Cásimire, Tessera guisguis, 85-c. Book IV Ode 7.) } SHEW me the man that dares and sings Great David's verse to British strings Sublime attempt! but bold and vain As building Babel's tower again. 2 he bard* that climb'd to Cooper's - Hill, Reaching at Zion, sham'd his skill, And bids the sons of Albion own, That Judah's psalmist reign's alone. 3. Blest poet! now, like gentle Thames, He soothes our ears with silver streams Like his own Jordan, now he rolls, And sweeps away our captive souls. 4 Softly the tuneful shepherd leads The Hebrew flocks to flow'ry meads: He marks their pathwithnotes divine, While fountains spring with oil and wine. 5 Rivers of peace attend his song. And draw their milky train along: He jars; and lo, the flints are broke, But honey issues from the rock. 6 When kindling with victorious fire, He shakes his lance across the lyre; The lyre resounds unknown alarms, And sets th' Thunderer in arms. Sir John Denham, who gained great reputation by his poem called Cooper's- Hill, is fled in his translation of the Psalms of David. x 3
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