Not alone the courtly dame, Thro' thy influence hopes for fame; In the distant hamlet see, Some poor milk-maid worship thee. Thy commands, howe'er unjust, View the mother, gay and wild, Slight for thee, her darling child. View the rash, advent'rous boy, Lur'd by ev'ry gilded toy; Madly squander hard-earn'd wealth, Shipwreck ease, and ruin health. SONNET TO FASHION. Since then, myriads own thy sway; Or thy secret power obey; Waken from each empty dream, And attend the minstrel's theme, "On the soldier's mossy bed, "Where can milder dews be shed, "More than on a warrior's grave? "Can more pensive thoughts arise, "Than beneath far-distant skies; 129 130 SONNET TO FASHION. "What with rapture more can thrill, "When at midnight all is still, "Than the tale of Troy divine, "Or the Mantuan's polish'd line. "What to pleasure more give birth, "Than the sound of infant mirth; SONNET UPON A VINE, BROUGHT FROM THE TEMPLE OF ISIS, AT POMPEII, AND PLANTED IN THE AUTHOR'S GARDEN. "All good grow with thee! "In thy days, may each man eat in safety, "Under his own Vine-that which he plants, “And chaunt the song of peace to all his neighbours." How many a vision fills the mind, And many a thought recalls! As thy parch'd foliage with the wind, In quick succession falls. Shakespeare. 132 SONNET UPON A VINE. Brought from Italia's sunny clime, And Baia's fertile shore; Forgive the Minstrel's feeble rhyme, (Whom folly tempts to soar.) Who fondly wishes to survey, Recall Sorrento's lovely bay, And far-fam'd tideless main. O'er ruin'd Isis' mould'ring shrine, (Tho' ages now long past,) Where Egypt's Seer-miscall'd divine, Foretold the awful blast. Foretold the mountain's fiery stream, With voice profane and loud; "Till woke from superstition's dream, He perish'd in the crowd. Thy parent boughs conceal'd the fair, (By great Osiris taught ;) When fresh as morn and light as air, The sacred dome they sought. |