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Page 140

BOOK THIRD
140 THE PROGRESS OF POESY - A Pindaric Ode

Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake,
And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.
From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take:
The laughing flowers that round them blow
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich stream of Music winds along
Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,
Through verdant vales and Ceres' golden reign;
Now rolling down the steep amain,
Headlong, impetuous, see it pour:
The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.

O Sovereign of the willing soul,
Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,
Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares
And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.
On Thracia's hills the Lord of War
Has curb'd the fury of his car
And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command.
Perching on the sceptred hand
Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king
With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing:
Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie
The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.

Thee the voice, the dance, obey
Temper'd to thy warbled lay.
O'er Idalia's velvet green
The rosy-crowned Loves are seen
On Cytherea's day,
With antic Sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures,
Frisking light in frolic measures;
Now pursuing, now retreating,
Now in circling troops they meet:
To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare:
Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay:
With arms sublime that float upon the air
In gliding state she wins her easy way:
O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.

Man's feeble race what ills await!
Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain,
Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,
And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate!
The fond complaint, my song, disprove,
And justify the laws of Jove.
Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse?
Night, and all her sickly dews,
Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry
He gives to range the dreary sky:
Till down the eastern cliffs afar
Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war.

In climes beyond the solar road,
Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam,
The Muse has broke the twilight gloom
To cheer the shivering native's dull abode.
And oft, beneath the odorous shade
Of Chili's boundless forests laid,
She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat
In loose numbers wildly sweet
Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves.
Her track, where'er the Goddess roves,
Glory pursue, and generous Shame,
Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame.

Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,
Isles, that crown th' Aegean deep,
Fields that cool Ilissus laves,
Or where Meander's amber waves
In lingering lab'rinths creep,
How do your tuneful echoes languish,
Mute, but to the voice of anguish!
Where each old poetic mountain
Inspiration breath'd around;
Every shade and hallow'd fountain
Murmur'd deep a solemn sound:
Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour,
Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains.
Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power,
And coward Vice, that revels in her chains.
When Latium had her lofty spirit lost,
They sought, 0 Albion, next thy sea-encircled coast.

Far from the sun and summer-gale
In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid,
What time, where lucid Avon stray'd,
To him the mighty Mother did unveil
Her awful face: the dauntless Child
Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smiled.
This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear
Richly paint the vernal year:
Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy!
This can unlock the gates of joy;
Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears,
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.

Nor second He, that rode sublime
Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy,
The secrets of the Abyss to spy:
He pass'd the flaming bounds of Place and Time:
The living Throne, the sapphire-blaze,
Where Angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night.
Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car
Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear
Two courses of ethereal race
With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace.

Hark, his hands the lyre explore!
Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er,
Scatters from her pictur'd urn
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
But ah! 'tis heard no more
0! Lyre divine, what daring
Spirit Wakes thee now? Tho' he inherit
Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban Eagle bear,
Sailing with supreme dominion
Thro' the azure deep of air:
Yet oft before his infant eyes would run
Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray

With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun:
Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate:
Beneath the Good how far-but far above the Great.
T. GRAY.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: what is laughing flowers that round them blow Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now what is rich stream of Music winds along Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales and Ceres' golden reign; Now rolling down what is steep amain, Headlong, impetuous, see it pour: what is rocks and nodding groves rebellow to what is roar. O Sovereign of what is willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting shell! what is sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control. On Thracia's hills what is Lord of War Has curb'd what is fury of his car And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command. Perching on what is sceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls what is feather'd king With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing: Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie what is te where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 140 where is strong BOOK THIRD where is strong 140 what is PROGRESS OF POESY - A Pindaric Ode where is p align="justify" Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: what is laughing flowers that round them blow Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now what is rich stream of Music winds along Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales and Ceres' golden reign; Now rolling down what is steep amain, Headlong, impetuous, see it pour: what is rocks and nodding groves rebellow to what is roar. O Sovereign of what is willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control. On Thracia's hills what is Lord of War Has curb'd what is fury of his car And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command. Perching on what is sceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls what is feather'd king With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing: Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie what is terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye. Thee what is voice, what is dance, obey Temper'd to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalia's velvet green what is rosy-crowned Loves are seen On Cytherea's day, With antic Sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures, Frisking light in frolic measures; Now pursuing, now retreating, Now in circling troops they meet: To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many-twinkling feet. Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: Where'er she turns what is Graces homage pay: With arms sublime that float upon what is air In gliding state she wins her easy way: O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move what is bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love. Man's feeble race what ills await! Labour, and Penury, what is racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And what time is it , sad refuge from what is storms of Fate! what is fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify what is laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain what is heavenly Muse? Night, and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry He gives to range the dreary sky: Till down what is eastern cliffs afar Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war. In climes beyond what is solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, what is Muse has broke what is twilight gloom To cheer what is shivering native's dull abode. And oft, beneath what is odorous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear what is savage youth repeat In loose numbers wildly sweet Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves. Her track, where'er what is Goddess roves, Glory pursue, and generous Shame, Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Isles, that crown th' Aegean deep, Fields that cool Ilissus laves, Or where Meander's amber waves In lingering lab'rinths creep, How do your tuneful echoes languish, Mute, but to what is voice of anguish! Where each old poetic mountain Inspiration breath'd around; Every shade and hallow'd fountain Murmur'd deep a solemn sound: Till what is sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour, Left their Parnassus for what is Latian plains. Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power, And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, 0 Albion, next thy sea-encircled coast. Far from what is sun and summer-gale In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid, What time, where lucid Avon stray'd, To him what is mighty Mother did unveil Her awful face: what is dauntless Child Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smiled. This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock what is gates of joy; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope what is sacred source of sympathetic Tears. Nor second He, that rode sublime Upon what is seraph-wings of Ecstasy, what is secrets of the Abyss to spy: He pass'd what is flaming bounds of Place and Time: what is living Throne, what is sapphire-blaze, Where Angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car Wide o'er what is fields of Glory bear Two courses of ethereal race With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace. Hark, his hands what is lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er, Scatters from her pictur'd urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. But ah! 'tis heard no more 0! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now? Tho' he inherit Nor what is pride, nor ample pinion, That what is Theban Eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Thro' what is azure deep of air: Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in what is Muse's ray With orient hues, unborrow'd of what is sun: Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond what is limits of a vulgar fate: Beneath what is Good how far-but far above what is Great. T. GRAY. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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