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The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch
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THE TRIUMPH OF FAME
PART IDa poi che Morte trionfò nel voltoWhen cruel Death his paly ensign spreadOver that face, which oft in triumph ledMy subject thoughts; and beauty's sovereign light,Retiring, left the world immersed in night;The Phantom, with a frown that chill'd the heart,Seem'd with his gloomy pageant to depart,Exulting in his formidable arms,And proud of conquest o'er seraphic charms.When, turning round, I saw the Power advanceThat breaks the gloomy grave's eternal trance,And bids the disembodied spirit claimThe glorious guerdon of immortal Fame.Like Phosphor, in the sullen rear of night,Before the golden wheels of orient lightHe came. But who the tendant pomp can tell,What mighty master of the corded shellCan sing how heaven above accordant smiled,And what bright pageantry the prospect fill'd.I look'd, but all in vain: the potent rayFlash'd on my sight intolerable dayAt first; but to the splendour soon inured,My eyes perused the pomp with sight assured.True dignity in every face was seen,As on they march'd with more than mortal mien;And some I saw whom Love had link'd before,Ennobled now by Virtue's lofty lore.Cæsar and Scipio on the dexter handOf the bright goddess led the laurell'd band.One, like a planet by the lord of day,Seem'd o'er-illumined by her splendid ray,By brightness hid; for he, to virtue true,His mind from Love's soft bondage nobly drew.The other, half a slave to female charms,Parted his homage to the god of armsAnd Love's seductive power: but, close and deep,Like files that climb'd the Capitolian steepIn years of yore, along the sacred wayA martial squadron came in long array.In ranges as they moved distinct and bright,On every burganet that met the light,Some name of long renown, distinctly read,O'er each majestic brow a glory shed.Still on the noble pair my eyes I bent,And watch'd their progress up the steep ascent.The second Scipio next in line was seen,And he that seem'd the lure of Egypt's queen;With many a mighty chief I there beheld,Whose valorous hand the battle's storm repell'd.Two fathers of the great Cornelian name,With their three noble sons who shared their fame,One singly march'd before, and, hand in hand,His two heroic partners trod the strand.The last was first in fame; but brighter beamsHis follower flung around in solar streams.Metaurus' champion, whom the moon beheld,When his resistless spears the current swell'dWith Libya's hated gore, in arms renown'dWas he, nor less with Wisdom's olive crown'd.Quick was his thought and ready was his hand,His power accomplish'd what his reason plann'd;He seem'd, with eagle eye and eagle wing,Sudden on his predestined game to spring.But he that follow'd next with step sedateDrew round his foe the viewless snare of fate;While, with consummate art, he kept at bayThe raging foe, and conquer'd by delay.Another Fabius join'd the stoic pair,The Pauli and Marcelli famed in war;With them the victor in the friendly strife,Whose public virtue quench'd his love of life.With either Brutus ancient Curius came;Fabricius, too, I spied, a nobler name(With his plain russet gown and simple board)Than either Lydian with her golden hoard.Then came the great dictator from the plough;And old Serranus show'd his laurell'd brow.Marching with equal step. Camillus near,Who, fresh and vigorous in the bright careerOf honour, sped, and never slack'd his pace,Till Death o'ertook him in the noble race,And placed him in a sphere of fame so high,That other patriots fill'd a lower sky.Even those ungrateful lands that seal'd his doomRecall'd the hanish'd man to rescue Rome.Torquains nigh, a sterner spectre stood,His fasces all besmear'd with filial blood:He childless to the shades resolved to go,Rather than Rome a moment should foregoThat dreadful discipline, whose rigid loreHad spread their triumphs round from shore to shore.Then the two Decii came, by Heaven inspired,Divinely bold, as when the foe retiredBefore their Heaven-directed march, amazed,When on the self-devoted men they gazed,Till they provoked their fate. And Curtius nigh,As when to heaven he cast his upward eye,And all on fire with glory's opening charms,Plunged to the Shades below with clanging arms,Lævinus, Mummius, with Flaminius show'd,Like meaner lights along the heavenly road;And he who conquer'd Greece from sea to sea,Then mildly bade th' afflicted race be free.Next came the dauntless envoy, with his wand,Whose more than magic circle on the sandThe frenzy of the Syrian king confined:O'er-awed he stood, and at his fate repined.Great Manlius, too, who drove the hostile throngProne from the steep on which his members hung,(A sad reverse) the hungry vultures' food,When Roman justice claim'd his forfeit blood.Then Cocles came, who took his dreadful standWhere the wide arch the foaming torrent spann'd,Stemming the tide of war with matchless might,And turn'd the heady current of the fight.And he that, stung with fierce vindictive ire,Consumed his erring hand with hostile fire.Duillius next and Catulus were seen,Whose daring navies plough'd the billowy greenThat laves Pelorus and the Sardian shore,And dyed the rolling waves with Punic gore.Great Appius next advanced in sterner mood,Who with patrician loftiness withstoodThe clamours of the crowd. But, close behind,Of gentler manners and more equal mind,Came one, perhaps the first in martial might,Yet his dim glory cast a waning light;But neither Bacchus, nor Alcmena's sonSuch trophies yet by east or west have won;Nor he that in the arms of conquest died,As he, when Rome's stern foes his valour triedYet he survived his fame. But luckier farWas one that follow'd next, whose golden starTo better fortune led, and mark'd his nameAmong the first in deeds of martial fame:But cruel was his rage, and dipp'd in goreBy civil slaughter was the wreath he wore.A less-ensanguined laurel graced the headOf him that next advanced with lofty tread,In martial conduct and in active mightOf equal honour in the fields of fight.Then great Volumnius, who expell'd the pestWhose spreading ills the Romans long distress'd.Rutilius Cassus, Philo next in sightAppear'd, like twinkling stars that gild the night.Three men I saw advancing up the vale,Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail;Dentatus, long in standing fight renown'd,Sergius and Scæva oft with conquest crown'd;The triple terror of the hostile train,On whom the storm of battle broke in vain.Another Sergius near with deep disgraceMarr'd the long glories of his ancient race,Marius, then, the Cimbrians who repell'dFrom fearful Rome, and Lybia's tyrant quell'd.And Fulvius, who Campania's traitors slew,And paid ingratitude with vengeance due.Another nobler Fulvius next appear'd;And there the Father of the Gracchi rear'dA solitary crest. The following formWas he that often raised the factious storm—Bold Catulus, and he whom fortune's rayIllumined still with beams of cloudless day;Yet fail'd to chase the darkness of the mind,That brooded still on loftier hopes behind.From him a nobler line in two degreesReduced Numidia to reluctant peace.Crete, Spain, and Macedonia's conquer'd lordAdorn'd their triumphs and their treasures stored.Vespasian, with his son, I next survey'd,An angel soul in angel form array'd;Nor less his brother seem'd in outward grace,But hell within belied a beauteous face.Then Nerva, who retrieved the falling throne,And Trajan, by his conquering eagles known.Adrian, and Antonine the just and good,He, with his son, the golden age renew'd;And ere they ruled the world, themselves subdued.Then, as I turn'd my roving eyes around,Quirinus I beheld with laurel crown'd,And five succeeding kings. The sixth was lost,By vice degraded from his regal post;A sentence just, whatever pride may claim,For virtue only finds eternal Fame.Boyd.PART IIPien d' infinita e nobil maravigliaFull of ecstatic wonder at the sight,I view'd Bellona's minions, famed in fight;A brotherhood, to whom the circling sunNo rivals yet beheld, since time begun.—But ah! the Muse despairs to mount their fameAbove the plaudits of historic Fame.But now a foreign band the strain recalls—Stern Hannibal, that shook the Roman walls;Achilles, famed in Homer's lasting lay,The Trojan pair that kept their foes at bay;Susa's proud rulers, a distinguish'd pair,And he that pour'd the living storm of warOn the fallen thrones of Asia, till the main,With awful voice, repell'd the conquering train.Another chief appear'd, alike in name,But short was his career of martial fame;For generous valour oft to fortune yields,Too oft the arbitress of fighting fields.The three illustrious Thebans join'd the train,Whose noble names adorn a former strain;Great Ajax with Tydides next appear'd,And he that o'er the sea's broad bosom steer'dIn search of shores unknown with daring prow,And ancient Nestor, with his looks of snow,Who thrice beheld the race of man decline,And hail'd as oft a new heroic line:Then Agamemnon, with the Spartan's shade,One by his spouse forsaken, one betray'd:And now another Spartan met my view,Who, cheerly, call'd his self-devoted crewTo banquet with the ghostly train below,And with unfading laurels deck'd the brow;Though from a bounded stage a softer strainWas his, who next appear'd to cross the plain:Famed Alcibiades, whose siren spellCould raise the tide of passion, or repelWith more than magic sounds, when Athens stoodBy his superior eloquence subdued.The Marathonian chief, with conquest crown'd,With Cimon came, for filial love renown'd;Who chose the dungeon's gloom and galling chainHis captive father's liberty to gain;Themistocles and Theseus met my eye;And he that with the first of Rome could vieIn self-denial; yet their native soil,Insensate to their long illustrious toil,To each denied the honours of a tomb,But deathless fame reversed the rigid doom,And show'd their worth in more conspicuous lightThrough the surrounding shades of envious night.Great Phocion next, who mourn'd an equal fate,Expell'd and exiled from his parent state;A foul reward! by party rage decreed,For acts that well might claim a nobler meed:There Pyrrhus, with Numidia's king behind,Ever in faithful league with Rome combined,The bulwark of his state. Another nigh,Of Syracuse, I saw, a firm allyTo Italy, like him. But deadly hate,Repulsive frowns, and love of stern debate,Hamilcar mark'd, who at a distance stood,And eyed the friendly pair in hostile mood.The royal Lydian, with distracted mien,Just as he 'scaped the vengeful flame, was seenAnd Syphax, who deplored an equal doom,Who paid with life his enmity of Rome;And Brennus, famed for sacrilegious spoil,That, overwhelm'd beneath the rocky pile,Atoned the carnage of his cruel hand,Join'd the long pageant of the martial band;Who march'd in foreign or barbarian guiseFrom every realm and clime beneath the skiesBut different far in habit from the rest,One tribe with reverent awe my heart impress'd:There he that entertain'd the grand designTo build a temple to the Power Divine;With him, to whom the oracles of HeavenThe task to raise the sacred pile had given:The task he soon fulfill'd by Heaven assign'd,—But let the nobler temple of the mindTo ruin fall, by Love's alluring swaySeduced from duty's hallow'd path astray;Then he that on the flaming hill survivedThat sight no mortal else beheld, and lived—The Eternal One, and heard, with awe profound,That awful voice that shakes the globe around;With him who check'd the sun in mid career,And stopp'd the burning wheels that mark the sphere,(As a well-managed steed his lord obeys,And at the straiten'd rein his course delays,)And still the flying war the tide of dayPursued, and show'd their bands in wild dismay.—Victorious faith! to thee belongs the prize;In earth thy power is felt, and in the circling skies.—The father next, who erst by Heaven's commandForsook his home, and sought the promised land;The hallow'd scene of wide-redeeming grace:And to the care of Heaven consign'd his race.Then Jacob, cheated in his amorous vows,Who led in either hand a Syrian spouse;And youthful Joseph, famed for self-command,Was seen, conspicuous midst his kindred band.Then stretching far my sight amid the trainThat hid, in countless crowds, the shaded plain,Good Hezekiah met my raptured sight,And Manoah's son, a prey to female sleight;And he, whose eye foresaw the coming flood,With mighty Nimrod nigh, a man of blood;Whose pride the heaven-defying tower design'd,But sin the rising fabric undermined.Great Maccabeus next my notice claim'd,By Love to Zion's broken laws inflamed;Who rush'd to arms to save a sinking state,Scorning the menace of impending FateNow satiate with the view, my languid sightHad fail'd, but soon perceived with new delightA train, like Heaven's descending powers, appear,Whose radiance seem'd my cherish'd sight to clearThere march'd in rank the dames of ancient days,Antiope, renown'd for martial praise;Orithya near, in glittering armour shone,And fair Hippolyta that wept her son;The sisters whom Alcides met of yoreIn arms on Thermodon's distinguish'd shore;When he and Theseus foil'd the warlike pair,By force compell'd the nuptial rite to share.The widow'd queen, who seem'd with tranquil smileTo view her son upon the funeral pile;But brooding vengeance rankled deep within,So Cyrus fell within the fatal gin:Misconduct, which from age to age convey'd,O'er her long glories cast a funeral shade.I saw the Amazon whom Ilion mourn'd,And her for whom the flames of discord burn'd,Betwixt the Trojan and Rutulian trainWhen her affianced lover press'd the plain;And her, that with dishevell'd tresses flew,Half-arm'd, half-clad, her rebels to subdue.Her partner too in lawless love I spied,A Roman harlot, an incestuous bride.But Tadmor's queen, with nobler fires inflamed,The pristine glory of the sex reclaim'd,Who in the spring of life, in beauty's bloom,Her heart devoted to her husband's tomb;True to his dust, aspiring to the crownOf virtue, in such years but seldom known:With temper'd mail she hid her snowy breast,And with Bellona's helm and nodding crestDespising Cupid's lore, her charms conceal'd,And led the foes of Latium to the field.The shock at ancient Rome was felt afar,And Tyber trembled at the distant warOf foes she held in scorn: but soon she foundThat Mars his native tribes with conquest crown'dAnd by her haughty foes in triumph led,The last warm tears of indignation shed.O fair Bethulian! can my vagrant songO'erpass thy virtues in the nameless throng,When he that sought to lure thee to thy shamePaid with his sever'd head his frantic flame?Can Ninus be forgot, whose ancient nameBegins the long roll of imperial fame?And he whose pride, by Heaven's imperial doom,Reduced among the grazing herd to roam?Belus, who first beheld the nations swayTo idols, from the Heaven-directed way,Though he was blameless? Where does he resideWho first the dangerous art of magic tried?O Crassus! much I mourn the baleful starThat o'er Euphrates led the storm of war.Thy troops, by Parthian snares encircled round,Mark'd with Hesperia's shame the bloody ground;And Mithridates, Rome's incessant foe,Who fled through burning plains and tracts of snowTheir fell pursuit. But now, the parting strainMust pass, with slight survey, the coming train:There British Arthur seeks his share of fame,And three Cæsarian victors join their claim;One from the race of Libya, one from Spain,And last, not least, the pride of fair Lorraine,With his twelve noble peers. Goffredo's powersDirect their march to Salem's sacred towers;And plant his throne beneath the Asian skies,A sacred seat that now neglected lies.Ye lords of Christendom! eternal shameFor ever will pursue each royal name,And tell your wolfish rage for kindred blood,While Paynim hounds profane the seat of God!With him the Christian glory seem'd to fall,The rest was hid behind oblivion's pall;Save a few honour'd names, inferior farIn peace to guide, or point the storm of war.Yet e'en among the stranger tribes were foundA few selected names, in song renown'd.First, mighty Saladin, his country's boast,The scourge and terror of the baptized host.Noradin, and Lancaster fierce in arms,Who vex'd the Gallic coast with long alarms.I look'd around with painful search to spyIf any martial form should meet my eyeFamiliar to my sight in worlds above,The willing objects of respect or love;And soon a well-known face my notice drew,Sicilia's king, to whose sagacious viewThe scenes of deep futurity display'dTheir birth, through coming Time's disclosing shade.There my Colonna, too, with glad surprise,'Mid the pale group, assail'd my startled eyes.His noble soul was all alive to fame,Yet holy friendship mix'd her softer claim,Which in his bosom fix'd her lasting throne,With Charity, that makes the wants of all her own.Boyd.PART IIIIo non sapea da tal vista levarmeStill on the warrior band I fix'd my view,But now a different troop my notice drew:The sage Palladian tribe, a nobler train,Whose toils deserve a more exalted strain.Plato majestic in the front appear'd,Where wisdom's sacred hand her ensign rear'd.Celestial blazonry! by heaven bestow'd,Which, waving high, before the vaward glow'd:Then came the Stagyrite, whose mental rayPierced through all nature like the shafts of day;And he that, by the unambitious name,Lover of wisdom, chose to bound his fame.Then Socrates and Xenophon were seen;With them a bard of more than earthly mien,Whom every muse of Jove's immortal choirBless'd with a portion of celestial fire:From ancient Argos to the Phrygian boundHis never-dying strains were borne aroundOn inspiration's wing, and hill and daleEchoed the notes of Ilion's mournful tale.The woes of Thetis, and Ulysses' toils,His mighty mind recover'd from the spoilsOf envious time, and placed in lasting lightThe trophies ransom'd from oblivion's nightThe Mantuan bard, responsive to his song,Co-rival of his glory, walk'd along.The next with new surprise my notice drew,Where'er he pass'd spontaneous flowerets grew,Fit emblems of his style; and close behindThe great Athenian at his lot repined;Which doom'd him, like a secondary star,To yield precedence in the wordy war;Though like the bolts of Jove that shake the spheres,He lighten'd in their eyes, and thunder'd in their ears.The assembly felt the shock, the immortal sound,His Attic rival's fainter accents drown'd.But now so many candidates for fameIn countless crowds and gay confusion came,That Memory seem'd her province to resign,Perplex'd and lost amid the lengthen'd line.Yet Solon there I spied, for laws renown'd,Salubrious plants in clean and cultured ground;But noxious, if malignant hands infuseIn their transmuted stems a baneful juiceAmongst the Romans, Varro next I spied,The light of linguists, and our country's pride;Still nearer as he moved, the eye could traceA new attraction and a nameless grace.Livy I saw, with dark invidious frownListening with pain to Sallust's loud renown;And Pliny there, profuse of life I found,Whom love of knowledge to the burning boundLed unawares; and there Plotinus' shade,Who dark Platonic truths in fuller light display'd:He, flying far to 'scape the coming pest,Was, when he seem'd secure, by death oppressed;That, fix'd by fate, before he saw the sun,The careful sophist strove in vain to shun.Hortensius, Crassus, Galba, next appear'd,Calvus and Antony, by Rome revered,The first with Pollio join'd, whose tongue profaneAssail'd the fame of Cicero in vain.Thucydides, who mark'd distinct and clearThe tardy round of many a bloody year,And, with a master's graphic skill, pourtray'dThe fields, "whose summer dust with blood was laid;"And near Herodotus his ninefold roll display'd,Father of history; and Euclid's vestThe heaven-taught symbols of that art express'dThat measures matter, form, and empty space,And calculates the planets' heavenly race;And Porphyry, whose proud obdurate heartWas proof to mighty Truth's celestial dart;With sophistry assail'd the cause of God,And stood in arms against the heavenly code.Hippocrates, for healing arts renown'd,And half obscured within the dark profound;The pair, whom ignorance in ancient daysAdorn'd like deities, with borrow'd rays.Galen was near, of Pergamus the boast,Whose skill retrieved the art so nearly lost.Then Anaxarchus came, who conquer'd pain;And he, whom pleasures strove to lure in vainFrom duty's path. And first in mournful moodThe mighty soul of Archimedes stood;And sage Democritus I there beheld,Whose daring hand the light of vision quell'd,To shun the soul-seducing forms, that playOn the rapt fancy in the beam of day:The gifts of fortune, too, he flung aside,By wisdom's wealth, a nobler store, supplied.There Hippias, too, I saw, who dared to claimFor general science an unequall'd name.And him, whose doubtful mind and roving eyeNo certainty in truth itself could spy;With him who in a deep mysterious guiseHer heavenly charms conceal'd from vulgar eyes.The frontless cynic next in rank I saw,Sworn foe to decency and nature's modest law.With him the sage, that mark'd, with dark disdain,His wealth consumed by rapine's lawless train;And glad that nothing now remain'd behind,To foster envy in a rival's mind,That treasure bought, which nothing can destroy,"The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy."Then curious Dicaearchus met my view,Who studied nature with sagacious view.Quintilian next, and Seneca were seen,And Chaeronea's sage, of placid mien;All various in their taste and studious toils,But each adorn'd with Learning's splendid spoils.There, too, I saw, in universal jar,The tribes that spend their time in wordy war;And o'er the vast interminable deepOf knowledge, like conflicting tempests, sweep.For truth they never toil, but feed their prideWith fuel by eternal strife supplied:No dragon of the wild with equal rage,Nor lions in nocturnal war, engageWith hate so deadly, as the learn'd and wise,Who scan their own desert with partial eyes.Carneades, renown'd for logic skill,Who right or wrong, and true and false, at willCould turn and change, employ'd his fruitless painTo reconcile the fierce, contending train:But, ever as he toil'd, the raging pestOf pride, as knowledge grew, with equal speed increased.Then Epicurus, of sinister fame,Rebellious to the lord of nature, came;Who studied to deprive the soaring soulOf her bright world of hope beyond the pole;A mole-ey'd race their hapless guide pursued,And blindly still the vain assault renew'd.Dark Metrodorus next sustain'd the cause,With Aristippus, true to Pleasure's laws.Chrysippus next his subtle web disposed:Zeno alternate spread his hand, and closed;To show how eloquence expands the soul,And logic boasts a close and nervous whole.And there Cleanthes drew the mighty lineThat led his pupils on, with heart divine,Through time's fallacious joys, by Virtue's road,To the bright palace of the sovereign good.—But here the weary Muse forsakes the throng,Too numerous for the bounds of mortal song.Boyd.THE TRIUMPH OF TIME
Dell' aureo albergo con l' Aurora innanziBehind Aurora's wheels the rising sunHis voyage from his golden shrine begun,With such ethereal speed, as if the HoursHad caught him slumb'ring in her rosy bowers.With lordly eye, that reach'd the world's extreme,Methought he look'd, when, gliding on his beam,That wingèd power approach'd that wheels his carIn its wide annual range from star to star,Measuring vicissitude; till, now more near,Methought these thrilling accents met my ear:—"New laws must be observed if mortals claim,Spite of the lapse of time, eternal fame.Those laws have lost their force that Heaven decreed,And I my circle run with fruitless speed;If fame's loud breath the slumb'ring dust inspire,And bid to live with never-dying fire,My power, that measures mortal things, is cross'd,And my long glories in oblivion lost.If mortals on yon planet's shadowy face,Can match the tenor of my heavenly race,I strive with fruitless speed from year to yearTo keep precedence o'er a lower sphere.In vain yon flaming coursers I prepare,In vain the watery world and ambient airTheir vigour feeds, if thus, with angels' flightA mortal can o'ertake the race of light!Were you a lesser planet, doom'd to runA shorter journey round a nobler sun;Ranging among yon dusky orbs below,A more degrading doom I could not know:Now spread your swiftest wings, my steeds of flame,We must not yield to man's ambitious aim.With emulation's noblest fires I glow,And soon that reptile race that boast belowBright Fame's conducting lamp, that seems to vieWith my incessant journeys round the sky,And gains, or seems to gain, increasing light,Yet shall its glories sink in gradual night.But I am still the same; my course beganBefore that dusky orb, the seat of man,Was built in ambient air: with constant swayI lead the grateful change of night and day,To one ethereal track for ever bound,And ever treading one eternal round."—And now, methought, with more than mortal ire,He seem'd to lash along his steeds of fire;And shot along the air with glancing ray,Swift as a falcon darting on its prey;No planet's swift career could match his speed,That seem'd the power of fancy to exceed.The courier of the sky I mark'd with dread,As by degrees the baseless fabric fledThat human power had built, while high disdainI felt within to see the toiling trainStriving to seize each transitory thingThat fleets away on dissolution's wing;And soonest from the firmest grasp recede,Like airy forms, with tantalizing speed.O mortals! ere the vital powers decay,Or palsied eld obscures the mental ray,Raise your affections to the things above,Which time or fickle chance can never move.Had you but seen what I despair to sing,How fast his courser plied the flaming wingWith unremitted speed, the soaring mindHad left his low terrestrial cares behind.But what an awful change of earth and skyAll in a moment pass'd before my eye!Now rigid winter stretch'd her brumal reignWith frown Gorgonean over land and main;And Flora now her gaudy mantle spread,And many a blushing rose adorn'd her bed:The momentary seasons seem'd to fleetFrom bright solstitial dews to winter's driving sleet.In circle multiform, and swift career:A wondrous tale, untold to mortal earBefore: yet reason's calm unbiass'd viewMust soon pronounce the seeming fable true,When deep remorse for many a wasted springStill haunts the frighted soul on demon wing.Fond hope allured me on with meteor flight,And Love my fancy fed with vain delight,Chasing through fairy fields her pageants gay.But now, at last, a clear and steady ray,From reason's mirror sent, my folly shows,And on my sight the hideous image throwsOf what I am—a mind eclipsed and lost,By vice degraded from its noble postBut yet, e'en yet, the mind's elastic springBuoys up my powers on resolution's wing,While on the flight of time, with rueful gazeIntent, I try to thread the backward maze,And husband what remains, a scanty space.Few fleeting hours, alas! have pass'd away,Since a weak infant in the lap I lay;For what is human life but one uncertain day!Now hid by flying vapours, dark and cold,And brighten'd now with gleams of sunny gold,That mock the gazer's eye with gaudy show,And leave the victim to substantial woe:Yet hope can live beneath the stormy sky,And empty pleasures have their pinions ply;And frantic pride exalts the lofty brow,Nor marks the snares of death that lurk below.Uncertain, whether now the shaft of fateSings on the wind, or heaven prolongs my date.I see my hours run on with cruel speed,And in my doom the fate of all I read;A certain doom, which nature's self must feelWhen the dread sentence checks the mundane wheel.Go! court the smiles of Hope, ye thoughtless crew!Her fairy scenes disclose an ample viewTo brainless men. But Wisdom o'er the fieldCasts her keen glance, and lifts her beamy shieldTo meet the point of Fate, that flies afar,And with stern vigilance expects the war.Perhaps in vain my admonitions fall,Yet still the Muse repeats the solemn call;Nor can she see unmoved your senses drown'dBy Circe's deadly spells in sleep profound.She cannot see the flying seasons rollIn dread succession to the final goal,And sweep the tribes of men so fast away,To Stygian darkness or eternal day,With unconcern.—Oh! yet the doom repealBefore your callous hearts forget to feel;E'er Penitence foregoes her fruitless toil,Or hell's black regent claims his human spoilOh, haste! before the fatal arrows flyThat send you headlong to the nether skyWhen down the gulf the sons of folly goIn sad procession to the seat of woe!Thus deeply musing on the rapid roundOf planetary speed, in thought profoundI stood, and long bewail'd my wasted hours,My vain afflictions, and my squander'd powers:When, in deliberate march, a train was seenIn silent order moving o'er the green;A band that seem'd to hold in high disdainThe desolating power of Time's resistless reign:Their names were hallow'd in the Muse's song,Wafted by fame from age to age along,High o'er oblivion's deep, devouring wave,Where millions find an unrefunding grave.With envious glance the changeful power beheldThe glorious phalanx which his power repell'd,And faster now the fiery chariot flew,While Fame appear'd the rapid flight to rue,And labour'd some to save. But, close behind,I heard a voice, which, like the western wind,That whispers softly through the summer shade,These solemn accents to mine ear convey'd:—"Man is a falling flower; and Fame in vainStrives to protract his momentaneous reignBeyond his bounds, to match the rolling tide,On whose dread waves the long olympiads ride,Till, fed by time, the deep procession grows,And in long centuries continuous flows;For what the power of ages can oppose?Though Tempe's rolling flood, or Hebrus claimRenown, they soon shall live an empty name.Where are their heroes now, and those who ledThe files of war by Xanthus' gory bed?Or Tuscan Tyber's more illustrious band,Whose conquering eagles flew o'er sea and land?What is renown?—a gleam of transient light,That soon an envious cloud involves in night,While passing Time's malignant hands diffuseOn many a noble name pernicious dews.Thus our terrestrial glories fade away,Our triumphs pass the pageants of a day;Our fields exchange their lords, our kingdoms fall,And thrones are wrapt in Hades' funeral pallYet virtue seldom gains what vice had lost,And oft the hopes of good desert are cross'd.Not wealth alone, but mental stores decay,And, like the gifts of Mammon, pass away;Nor wisdom, wealth, nor fortune can withstandHis desolating march by sea and land;Nor prayers, nor regal power his wheels restrain,Till he has ground us down to dust again.Though various are the titles men can plead,Some for a time enjoy the glorious meedThat merit claims; yet unrelenting fateOn all the doom pronounces soon or late;And whatsoe'er the vulgar think or say,Were not your lives thus shorten'd to a day,Your eyes would see the consummating powerHis countless millions at a meal devour."And reason's voice my stubborn mind subdued;Conviction soon the solemn words pursued;I saw all mortal glory pass away,Like vernal snows beneath the rising ray;And wealth, and power, and honour, strive in vainTo 'scape the laws of Time's despotic reign.Though still to vulgar eyes they seem to claimA lot conspicuous in the lists of Fame,Transient as human joys; to feeble ageThey love to linger on this earthly stage,And think it cruel to be call'd awayOn the faint morn of life's disastrous day.Yet ah! how many infants on the breastBy Heaven's indulgence sink to endless rest!And oft decrepid age his lot bewails,Whom every ill of lengthen'd life assails.Hence sick despondence thinks the human lotA gift of fleeting breath too dearly bought:But should the voice of Fame's obstreperous blastFrom ages on to future ages last,E'en to the trump of doom,—how poor the prizeWhose worth depends upon the changing skies!What time bestows and claims (the fleeting breathOf Fame) is but, at best, a second death—A death that none of mortal race can shun,That wastes the brood of time, and triumphs o'er the sun.Boyd.
