Classic Poem

Conjugal Love my joyful Heart inspires,
And warms a languid Muse with active Fires
The pleasing Impulse the glad Muse obeys;
And as a pious Monument of Praise,
Grateful she consecrates these humble Lays.
Nor can she stray in trackless Wilds unknown;
Since to describe the Bliss, I need but tell my own.

 But hence! far hence! ye wild lascivious Fires:
To purer Themes the modest Muse aspires,
Hence banish'd, to your native Hell return!
There with your loose degen'rate Bards to mourn;
There with your kindred Flames to rage and burn.

 Hail, gentle Love! thou sacred Heaven-born Flame!
Pure Spark, that from th' eternal Godhead came!
Who clad in Glories infinitely bright,
Does in this mild Perfection most delight;
In Love rejoices as this darling Name,
And breathes thro' Nature the celestial Flame.

 'Tis Love adjusts this fair harmonious World;
On Wheels of Love the heavenly Spheres are whirl'd,
Ten Thousand Systems round Ten Thousand Suns,
Impell'd by Love, each in its Orbit runs.
What's the Attractive or Projectile Force,
But Love well-ballanc'd, to direct their Course?
Love, the great Cement of the Universe,
That hinders Worlds to conflict and disperse.

 'Tis Love that tunes th'harmonious Harps above;
And the blest Voices sing immortal Love.
There in its native Element it glows;
There from the uncreated Fountain flows,
Diffusing Heav'n where e'er its Current goes.

 Of firm Societies Love form'd the Plan,
“And Creature linkt to Creature, Man to Man.”
Blest the rude World with Friendship, downy Peace,
And humaniz'd a wild, barbarian Race.
The kindest Gift indulgent Heaven bestow'd,
To sweeten Life, and ease the crushing Load;
To sooth Anxieties, to lull to Rest
The Hurricanes that ravage thro' the Breast;
To double scanty Bliss, and multiply
The rare celestial Plants of Peace and Joy,
So apt in this unnat'ral Soil to die.

 Could Hell extinguish this celestial Spark,
The Universe would fall, the Sun grow dark;
Infernal Horrors thro' the World prevail:
And Heaven itself would sadden into Hell:
Men chang'd to Savages, forsake their Home,
And with fell Tygers, the wild Desart roam:
The screaming Infant die as soon as born,
By his own Father's Rage to Pieces torn.

 But Thou, All-gracious Maker! hast impress
This heav'nly Stamp upon the human Breast;
Mixt in the tender Embryo of our Frame,
Some gentle Sparks of Thy essential Flame.

 O! early may the sacred Fire return
To Thee its Source, and there divinely burn!
Ev'ry soft Passion to Thy Name aspire,
And Love to Thee the whole Creation fire!
But chiefly, may thy Praises be exprest,
By those whom gentle Love has rendered blest!

 Ye Parents, whose kind Bowels melt and move
With all th' Endearments of paternal Love;
Who feel the silken Bands of Nature tye
Your yearning Souls to your fond Progeny;
O! praise Him, who a feeble Spark imparts
Of his paternal Kindness to your Hearts.

 Ye grateful Infants, whose young Souls begin
To feel the soft Emotions work within;
In thousand little fondling Actions shew
The filial Duty that begins to glow;
O! while you toy in your fond Mother's Arms,
Lisp to his Honour who your Bosom warms:
O! consecrate th' imperfect rude Essays
Of your first Language, to your Maker's Praise.

 Ye Youths and Nymphs, who feel the pleasing Flame
Pant in your Breast, and throb thro' all your Frame;
Who lost in anxious, pleasing Transports prove
The charming wild Extravagance of Love;
Let human Beauties claim their proper Share,
But Oh! supremely love THE E VERLASTING F AIR !

 Friendship, thou sacred Name! may every Mind
Whom thy soft Fetters in sweet Bondage bind;
Who melted into Union coalesce,
And but one Joy, one Grief, one Life possess;
O may their warmest Gratitude ascend
In Extasies to their celestial Friend!

 Praise Him, ye happy Pairs, who no more sigh
For absent Bliss, but all your Wish enjoy:
Your Hands conjoin'd, cogenial Souls commixt;
And not a jealous Thought intrudes betwixt;
While mutual Confidence, and Peace serene
Smile in your Looks, and still the Storms within:
Your mutual Virtues mutual Wants supply;
Your Burden shar'd, and multiply'd your Joy;
Adore His Name who join'd two kindred Souls,
And fashion'd you in correspondent Moulds.

 C ONNUBIAI L OVE ! thrice happy was the Hour
I fell a willing Captive to thy Pow'r.
Opprest I panted underneath my Load,
While I a single Individual stood:
But, Chara , since with thee I coalesc'd,
And join'd thee to my maim'd imperfect Breast,
I grew into a finish'd Man, compleat,
And hardly feel the huge unwieldy Weight——
So when a marble Pillar singly tries
To bear the Weight of some vast Edifice,
The Pillar trembles, and the tott'ring Wall
Horrendous nods, and threats a thund'ring Fall.
But if the prudent Architect bestows
A Set of Columns in proportion'd Rows,
The Building stands indissolubly firm,
And mocks the blust'ring Hurricane and Storm.

 Nor will my OTHER S ELF refuse to own
She finds her Soul to perfect Stature grown,
And two conjoin'd but make a finish'd O NE
The rougher Virtues of a manly Mind
With her more tender female Virtues join'd,
Form a well-temper'd Compound.——So unite
The Glooms of Black, and the mild Streaks of White,
And form a well-mix'd Picture, pleasing to the Sight.
The Mildness of her Temper seem'd to court
Masculine Boldness for its kind Support;
Unfit, alone, t' avert impending Harms,
And face Life's Terrors and outragious Storms.——
So creeps the noble Vine along the Ground,
When no supporting Elm is near her found.
No gen'rous Clusters her rich Boughs adorn,
Smother'd with noxious Weeds and overborn.
But place some kind Support within her Reach,
Her marriageable Arms you'll see her stretch;
Round the rough Trunk with loving Tendrils twine,
And bloom on high, a fair prolific Vine.

  Chara , beneath thy Influence I felt
The charming Flame; my Soul was taught to melt
In Extasies unknown, and soon began
To put the Stoic off, and soften into Man.
The Veil of Modesty, in vain confin'd
Th' alluring Beauties of thy lovely Mind:
The shining Charms beam'd thro' the fair Disguise;
Blush'd in thy Aspect, dazzled in thy Eyes;
In every Word, in all thy Conduct known,
And in thy artless Face, well-copy'd, shone—
So thro' resulgent Clouds breaks the bright Morning Sun.
I saw, I lov'd, I sought to gain,
The blooming Fair; nor sought in vain.
Thy yielding Bosom soon began to glow
With the same Flame thy Charms taught me to know.
Thy Soul, unskill'd in those inhumane Arts,
Thy Sex affect to torture captive Hearts,
A constant Lover did disdain to vex,
Or with unkind Delays and treach'rous Wiles perplex.
Thy Soul, that knew not what dissembling meant,
With modest soft Reluctance, blush'd Consent.
In Transport lost the joyful News I heard;
And vow'd my Life the Favour to reward.
A solemn Rite the willing Contract seal'd,
To stand, 'til Death divide us, unrepeal'd.

 'Twas gracious Heav'n presided o'er our Choice——
Come, Chara , then, assist my grateful Voice.
To Thee, Great G OD ! to Thee alone we owe
This mutual Bliss, this Paradise below.
And dost Thou , Sovereign Ruler of the Spheres!
Stoop down to Worms, and manage our Affairs!
Thou , in Whose Sight Arch-Angels are but Nought,
And highest Heav'n beneath Thy meanest Thought!
Compar'd with Whom, ten thousand Worlds appear
But Vanity, unworthy of Thy Care!
Oh! what are we, or what our Father's House,
That Thou should'st condescend so low to us,
And with peculiar Favours crown us thus!

 O! never, never be Thy Grace forgot
That destin'd for us a distinguish'd Lot.
While wretched Thousands, form'd of diff'rent Clay,
In nuptial Fetters fret their Days away;
Jangle and murmur in eternal Strife,
And gnaw'd with Jealousies consume their Life;
In mutual Love, in mutual Confidence,
Unconscious of Suspicion or Offence,
In Fondness, Peace and melting Tenderness,
The calm unclouded Day of Life we pass:
Pitying survey the angry jarring World,
Contentious, loud, in boist'rous Passions whirl'd:
Then into sweet Society retire,
And find the peaceful Calm our Souls desire.
Love charms the Heart, and in the Aspect smiles,
Our anxious Griefs and fretting Cares beguiles;
Doubles our Pleasures, while th' impartial Scale
Of Sympathy divides the Woes we feel.
Thus over Life's tempestous Sea we fail,
When Storms blow fierce, and the rough Surges swell;
With equal Hands ply the tough yielding Oar,
And fly triumphant to the wish'd-for Shore.

 O! may our Days, Eternal G OD ! be Thine;
And every Passion yield to Love Divine.
Oh! in our Hearts still do Thou reign supreme;
Nor let us steal the Love thy Glories claim.

 But here, ah! here a guilty Scene appears!——
Oh! break my senseless Heart, and flow my Tears!
How manifold and strange my Frailties be!
Chara , I find Temptations ev'n in thee!
When fondly in thy loving Arms I rest,
And thy resistless Charms enflame my Breast,
The pleasing Tempter seizes all my Heart,
Or leaves my G OD but the inferior Part.
Almighty Grace! th'Extravagance controul
Of this unruly Pow'r that captivates my Soul.
From all created charms my Heart recall,
To the ALL-PERFECT F AIR, TH ' E TERNAL ALL !
My lovely Chara ! help me to restrain
The wild Excesses of the Love you gain.
With Horror, shun the sacrilegious Theft,
And tho' I give, yet Oh! refuse the Gift.
Far from my Breast expell each human Fair;
But Oh! let J ESUS reign unrivall'd there:
J ESUS ! Thou sacred and unrivall'd Name!
My warmest Love thy matchless Glories claim.
Ah! shall this Spark Thy Spirit did inspire,
From Thee, its Origin, my Heart ensnare!
No! Claim my tend'rest Passions for Thy own;
Or tear them from my Heart, and change me into Stone.

 Another pleasing Scene, my Muse, disclose——
Love multiply'd in blooming Branches grows.
These smiling Infants with a thousand Arts
To fond parental Love dissolve our Hearts.
In our fond Arms the pretty Triflers toy,
And overwhelm us with oppressive Joy.
Young Reason blooms, and shews its tender Flow'rs,
And importunes I NSTRUCTION'S gentle Show'rs.
Delightful Task! to rear the tender Thought;
To teach the young Idea how to shoot;
To form the pliant Mind in Virtue's Mould,
Before it hardens, and stiff Vice grows old.

 Eternal G OD ! to whom ourselves we owe,
To Thee we dedicate our Offspring too.
O! may Thy Conduct guide them o'er the Stage
Of slipp'ry Youth to Manhood's sob'rer Age;
And if Thou crown their Heads with hoary Hairs,
May they devote to Thee their aged Years;
Proclaim Thy Praise, when we resign our Breath,
And lie forgotten in the Dust of Death.
Then in Thy kind Embraces let them die,
And people the celestial Colony.

  Chara , thou dear Partaker of my Heart,
The Hour approaches, when ev'n we must part:
We tho' in strongest Bonds of Union join'd,
Must feel the painful Rupture of the Mind.
When on the Bridal Day I took thy Hand,
And clasp'd thee to me in the nuptial Band,
This Thought did mod'rate my Excess of Joy,
“Resistless Death this Union will destroy:
“This spendid Jewel must not still be mine;
“But cruel Fate will force me to resign.”
I shudder at the Prospect!——Ah! my Dear,
How could I leave you solitary here!
Leave you, like the poor widow'd Dove, to mourn,
Opprest with Cares, in the wide World forlorn!
With all the Mother yearning in your Breast,
To see your helpless Orphan-Babes distrest!

 Methinks I see you weeping o'er my Clay,
And drown'd in Sorrow, my pale Corpse survey;
“There all my Comfort, all my Joy lies dead,
(You cry) “Each smiling Prospect now is fled.
“My Love, alas! was impotent to save
“The Man I lov'd from the all-conquering Grave.
“To Thee, Great G OD ! the Widow's Friend, I flee:
“I've no Support, no Refuge now, but Thee.”

 Methinks I see you sad and solemn tread
The Place where I lie mould'ring 'mong the Dead
“Here the dear Reliques lie, the Dust lies here,”
You say, and sob, and drop a tender Tear,
“The Dust of that dear Man, who once possest
“My Soul, whom these fond Arms have oft embrac'd.“Here silent, senseless, now he lies; nor hears
“His Chara 's Sighs, nor minds her flowing Tears.”

 O Chara ! could the iron Bands of Death
Be bursted, and its Slaves resume their Breath;
Thy Sorrows would revive my mould'ring Clay,
And Death's eternal Stupor drive away.
My senseless Dust with thee would sympathize,
And spring to Life to wipe thy streaming Eyes.
But ah! the Tyrant Death will not dismiss
His Captives, nor grant one poor Hour's Release.

 Yet now at least my pitying Tears can flow,
In Prospect of th' approaching Scenes of Woe,
And now anticipate the Sympathy I owe.
Your Griefs at my own Funeral I share,
And since I cannot then, now drop a Tear.

 But Oh! the Prospect overwhelms my Minds——
I cannot, cannot leave my Fair behind.
No!—Hear, Indulgent Heave'n! this humble Pray'r;
“Let her net mourn for me, but me for her!
“Doom me to live to close her dying Eyes,
“And see her struggling in Death's Agonies.
“The pale cold Clay with last Embraces clasp,
“And from her Lips receive th' expiring Gasp.
“Attend her Reliques to her clay-cold Bed,
“And o'er her Grave my dewy Sorrows shed.
“In pensive Solitude oft thither rove,
“To view the Mansion of the Dust I love.
“In melancholy Crape myself array,
“And darken with the Pomp of Grief the Day.
“Thus mourn away the sad Remains of Life,
“'Til friendly Death restore me to my Wife.”——
Ah no! ah no! Kind Heave'n! refuse to hear;
Nor curse me with the Answer of my Pray'r.
My Heart would break, my Spirit faint away,
To see my Chara pallid lifeless Clay.
To hear the Clods with hollow murm'ring Sound
Fall on thy Coffin, would my Soul confound.

 And when th' important, solemn Hour draws nigh,
When I must bow my fainting Head and die,
How could I face the Terrors, if thou wert not by?
May I expire in thy kind Arms embrac'd,
And Guardian Angels take me from thy Breast,
And guide my Soul to everlasting Rest!
May thy dear Voice some cheering Thought suggest,
And teach me on my Saviour's Arm to rest,
Whisper some Promise from the sacred Writ,
That thro' Death's Glooms may dart a cheerful Light.
Above for thee I'll wait, 'til gentle Fate
Wast up thy Soul, and make our Bliss compleat.

 But here again the dismal Views return,——
I see my Chara pine and weep and mourn.
The moving Sight my Spirit cannot bear;
And here again I must retract my Pray'r.
Straiten'd, perplext, I know not what to crave,
A longer Life than she, or earlier Grave.
Propitious Heav'n! direct my doubtful Vow,
And what is best, ask'd or unask'd, bestow.

 Thus the best Blessing does perplexing prove;
These are the wild Anxieties of Love.
The senseless Stoic seeks the Bliss in vain,
'Tis true——but then, he pines not with the Pain.
His little Self is all his narrow Care,
And all his Fears and Wishes center there.
But this fond Soul with various Passions tost,
Is in a Maze of Contradictions lost.
Now could I almost with from Love to flee,
And harden into quiet Apathy.

 But Oh! is there no Cure, no heav'nly Art
To ease this twinging Anguish of my Heart?
To arm this coward Soul, and make her smile
At all the Terrors of approaching Ill?
To teach these Spectres no more to affright,
That stalk in future Time's impenetrable Night?
O yes there is!——My anxious Soul be still;
Calmly submit to Heav'n's all ruling Will.
His Will be done! Refuse to chuse thy Lot;
And leave that Trust to His unerring Thought.
He rules unnumber'd Worlds with Skill Divine;
And can't He rule these mean Affairs of thine?
What's best for us, His Wisdom only knows;
And what is best, His boundless Grace bestows.
Here will I rest: And here, my Chara too,
Appears a Rock in every Storm for you.

 But Nature, perverse Nature, will rebel,
And o'er my calm and settled Thoughts prevail.
The rising Waves will dash me from my Rock;
And all my firmest Resolutions shock.

 Father! forgive these Ravings of my Love;
These lawless Passions that rebellious rove.
O! to this Fondness proper Limits set,
And its Extravagancies regulate.
If my wild Pen one guilty Word has writ,
Pity my Weakness, and that Word remit.

 Be Thou my Bliss, be Thou my All, in Life;
My Strength, my Comfort, in the dying Strife.
If 'tis Thy Will that I should pine alone,
Berest of Chara , may Thy Will be done!
Or if I first relapse to native Dust,
And leave her here to mourn, Thy Will is just.
Thy Right it is, the Knot Thy Hands have ty'd
When, where, and as Thou pleasest, to divide.

 Yet O! forgive Thy Servant if he speaks,
And Dust and Ashes this one Prayer makes:
If Thou consent, thankful before Thy Feet
I fall! if not, I'm silent and submit.
“O! may we both at once resign our Breath,
“And sink together in the Arms of Death.
“One bumble Tomb preserve our mingling Dust,
“'Til the all-rousing Trump demand the Trust.
“Conducted by one heav'nly Convoy rise.
“And soar together to the upper Skies.
“There in eternal Union praise Thy Name,
“And Love Divine our mingled Souls enflame.”

  Chara , this humble Monument I raise
Of our fond Passion, in my youthful Days;
That if you're doom'd the mournful Day to view,
When I shall cease to speak or write to you;
When my dull Muse shall silent lie in Death,
Or in celestial Strains employ her tuneful Breath;
To still, or rather vent your Griefs, you may
With gushing Eyes these tender Lines survey,
And as you pore upon them, sigh and say,
“Well; once I had a Friend, whose loving Soul
“Did antedate these Sorrows to condole;
“That early wail'd my then uncertain Doom,
“And mourn'd in Prospect what I mourn as come.

 Or if grim Death first tear you from my Breast;
And wast you earlier to eternal Rest;
I may at least enjoy that poor Relief,
To find a Help to vent my bursting Grief,
To raise the Sluices of o'erwhelming Woe,
That Deluges of easing Tears may flow.

 But Oh! why does the cruel Muse repose
So early, Treasures for our future Woes?
Nor you nor I can then endure to view
These sad Predictions then so sadly true.
Again perplext, I wish my Work undone;
But the resistless Passion push'd me on.
I doom these dire Predictions to the Fire;
Yet would the sad Accomplishment appear;
Therefore I check my Ravings, and forbear.