Tag Archives: Reason

William Whitehead, “The Enthusiast. An Ode”

William Whitehead

“The Enthusiast. An Ode”

 

Once, I remember well the day,
‘Twas ere the blooming sweets of May
Had lost their freshest hues,
When every flower on every hill,
In every vale, had drank its fill                                                 5
Of sun-shine, and of dews.

In short, ‘twas that sweet season’s prime
When Spring gives up the reins of time
To Summer’s glowing hand,
And doubting mortals hardly know                                        10
By whose command the breezes blow
Which fan the smiling land.

‘Twas then beside a green-wood shade
Which cloath’d a lawn’s aspiring head
I urg’d my devious way,                                                      15
With loitering steps regardless where,
So soft, so genial was the air,
So wond’rous bright the day.

And now my eyes with transport rove
O’er all the blue expanse above,                                                20
Unbroken by a cloud!
And now beneath delighted pass,
Where winding through the deep-green grass
A full-brim’d river flow’d.

I stop, I gaze; in accents rude                                                      25
To thee, serenest Solitude,
Bursts forth th’ unbidden lay;
Begone, vile world; the learn’d, the wise,
The great, the busy I despise,
And pity ev’n the gay.                                                            30

These, these are joys alone, I cry;
‘Tis here, divine Philosophy,
Thou deign’st to fix thy throne!
Here Contemplation points the road
Thro’ Nature’s charms to Nature’s God!                                     35
These, these are joys alone!

Adieu, ye vain low-thoughted cares,
Ye human hopes, and human fears,
Ye pleasures, and ye pains! —-
While thus I spake o’er all my soul                                               40
A philosophic calmness stole,
A Stoic stillness reigns.

The tyrant passions all subside,
Fear, anger, pity, shame and pride
No more my bosom move;                                                   45
Yet still I felt, or seem’d to feel
A kind of visionary zeal
Of universal love.

When lo! a voice! a voice I hear!
‘Twas Reason whisper’d in my ear                                               50
These monitory strains:
What mean’st thou, man? would’st thou unbind
The ties which constitute thy kind,
The pleasures and the pains?

The same Almighty Power unseen,                                              55
Who spreads the gay or solemn scene
To Contemplation’s eye,
Fix’d every movement of the soul,
Taught every wish its destin’d goal,
And quicken’d every joy.                                                         60

He bids the tyrant passions rage,
He bids them war eternal wage,
And combat each his foe:
Till from dissentions concords rise,
And beauties from deformities,                                                    65
And happiness from woe.

Art thou not man, and dar’st thou find
A bliss which leans not to mankind?
Presumptuous thought, and vain!
Each bliss unshar’d is unenjoy’d,                                                  70
Each power is weak, unless employ’d
Some social good to gain.

Shall light, and shade, and warmth, and air,
With those exalted joys compare
Which active virtue feels,                                                        75
When on she drags, as lawful prize,
Contempt, and Indolence, and Vice,
At her triumphant wheels.

As rest to labour still succeeds,
To man, while Virtue’s glorious deeds                                         80
Employ his toilsome day,
This fair variety of things
Are merely life’s refreshing springs
To sooth him on his way.

Enthusiast go, unstring thy lyre,                                                   85
In vain thou sing’st if none admire,
How sweet soe’er the strain.
And is not thy o’erflowing mind,
Unless thou mixest with thy kind,
Benevolent in vain?                                                                 90

Enthusiast go; try every sense,
If not thy bliss, thy excellence
Thou yet hast learn’d to scan;
And least thy wants, thy weakness know;
And see them all uniting show                                                     95
That man was made for man.

 NOTES:

Title Enthusiast “One who vainly imagines a private revelation; one of a hot imagination, or violent passions” (Johnson).

15 devious “Following a winding or erratic course; rambling, roving” (OED).

25 accents “The way in which anything is said or sung; a modulation or modification of voice expressing feeling” (OED); rude “Artless; inelegant” (Johnson).

37 low-thoughted Thought lowly of; pointless or worthless.

40 spake Archaic past tense of “speak.”

42 Stoic “Greek school of philosophy; one who practices repression of emotion, indifference to pleasure or pain, and patient endurance” (OED).

51 monitory “Conveying a warning” (OED).

Source: Poems on Several Occasions, with the Roman Father, A Tragedy (London, 1754) pp. 87-91. [Google Books]

Edited by Elyot Cotter

Mary Masters, “To my Self”

MARY MASTERS

“To my Self”

Maria, now, leave all that thou hast lov’d,
And be, no more, by outward objects mov’d.
Quit the vain World, and its alluring Toys,
Its airy Pleasures, and fictitious Joys.
False are the Colours, high is the Deceit,                                                  5
And that, which fairest seems, the greatest Cheat.
Turn then, fond Maid, from the Delusion fly,
And guide thy future Aims by Reason’s Eye.
No more let Sense the radiant Queen depose,
Or the fair Monarch her just Sceptre lose.                                                10
Let Her mild Dictates bend thy stubborn Will,
And keep thy wild impetuous Passions still:
Let gentle Prudence her soft Pow’r exert,
And curb the Transports of thy foolish Heart.
Tempestuous Anger, and tumultuous Joy,                                               15
Both are uncomely, both the Health destroy.
These, and all others of the ardent Kind,
Are prejudicial to a peaceful Mind,
Then, shun extremes, and calmly bear thy Fate,
Not too dejected, nor too much elate.                                                       20
If thy kind Lord a prosp’rous Lot has giv’n,
Bless the Indulgence of all-bounteous Heav’n.
Or, if he fixes a severer Doom,
And should think fit to call his Favours home;
Humbly submit to the divine Decree,                                                        25
None but himself his wise designs can see.

NOTES:

 1 Maria Mary Masters’s poetic name for herself.

3 Toys “Matter of no importance; thing of no value” (Johnson).

12 impetuous “Violent; forcible” (Johnson).

13 Prudence “Wisdom applied to practice” (Johnson).

15 Tempestuous “Strong conflicting emotions” (OED); tumultuous “Violent commotion; irregularly and confusedly agitated” (Johnson).

17 ardent “Fiery; fierce” (Johnson).

20 dejected “Low spirited” (Johnson); elate “To heighten” (Johnson).

21 kind Lord Likely a reference to the Christian God

23 Doom Death.

 25 Decree “A law” (Johnson).

Source: Poems on Several Occasions (London, 1733), pp. 169-171.

 Edited by Kaili Ferreira

“I.O.,” “Reason’s Expostulation with Love”

“I. O.”

 REASON’S Expostulation with LOVE”

 FOND, feverish boy, why madly feed
A restless love, without an end?
Say, to what good those wishes lead,
Or whither does thy passion tend.
The flame you nurse, that very flame                                                                               5
Shall prove a serpent in your breast;
Of strength shall rob your sickly frame,
Your days of work, your nights of rest.
Say that thy love can’t injure thee,
Yet, for her sake, oh! quench the fire;                                                                       10
Think how you’d wrong the maid and me,
If once you kindled soft desire!
Thou know’st the nymph can ne’er be thine,
Then why thus every art essay?
How canst thou first her hand resign,                                                                               15
Then try to steal her heart away?
Grant that heart be all thine own,
Grant that her love thy love exceed —
‘Twere better far t’ endure alone,
Than teach the maid like thee to bleed.                                                                    20
Would’st thou for this her heart obtain?
E’en like a wanton puling boy,
Who first a play-thing cries to gain,
And, when he’s gain’d it, breaks the toy.
Would love, did love do her no harm,                                                                                 25
From passion’s ills thy soul release?
Would that which made her bosom warm,
Restore thy long-forgotten peace?
Thou canst not bear th’ averted cheek,
Thou canst not bear her silent eye:                                                                             30
How could’st thou bear those eyes that speak,
How could’st thou bear th’ impassion’d sigh?
Nought that she does thy soul can please:
Tho’ Scorn may make thy fetters grind,
No smiles can make them fit with ease,                                                                              35
And Scorn itself can ne’er unbind.
The cold indifference of her looks
Thy love-sick heart can ill endure;
And if her frown thy flame rebukes,
The pain it gives admits no cure.                                                                                  40
If she be kind, what boots it more?
It tells how Fate thy doom has fixt,
And wider sets the distant shore,
And clearer shews the gulf betwixt.
Why wilt thou rush to certain pain?                                                                                      45
To her thy foot why madly flies?
So seeks the silly moth her bane,
And courts the blaze by which she dies.
Say, can the bliss her presence brings
Reward an absent lover’s woe?                                                                                    50
Oft hast thou felt how parting stings,
And curst the cause that bade thee go.
And wilt thou seek her mansion yet?
Back shalt thou still return to Care;
To waste thine hours in vain regret;                                                                                   55
To wish thou ne’er hadst enter’d there.

NOTES:

Title REASON’S Expostulation with LOVE. A companion poem answering this one titled “LOVE’S Answer to REASON” was published on the same page in this issue.

22 puling “Crying querulously or weakly, as a child; whining, feebly wailing” (OED).

41 boots To boot: old English for use, profit, to be of advantage (Online Etymology Dictionary).

Source: The Gentleman’s Magazine (July, 1788), p. 640. [Hathi Trust]

 Edited by Annika Thiem

“I.O.,” “Love’s Answer to Reason”

“I.O.”

LOVE’S Answer to REASON”

INTRUDER bold, whose impious tongue
Presumes to chide my hallow’d flame,
Art thou of earthly parents sprung?
Whence dost thou come? or what thy name?
Not earthly thou: some Hell-born foe,                                                                   5
Or sure some stranger from above:
Its nature well thou seem’st to know,
But ne’er did’st feel what ‘tis to love.
Give me a breast as cold as thine,
Or teach the maid to frown like thee;                                                              10
Then shall this soul no longer pine,
And thou alone shalt govern me.
But, whilst I view that eye so sweet,
And in that eye a sweeter mind,
Still may’st thou ever idly prate,                                                                               15
And preach thy lessons to the wind.
Go, tell the Sun to hide his fire,
And tell the stars to shine no more;
Go, bid the surges back retire,
Nor dare to lash the bellowing shore.                                                               20
Seek Bedlam’s din and mingled yells;
There, if thou canst, resume thy reign;
Bid Madness leave her iron cells,
And drag no more the clanking chain.
Go call her wand’ring senses home,                                                                          25
Her frantic rage and storms allay;
Or teach her fixt and sullen gloom
To laugh and dance the hours away.
Could’st thou but view my charmer’s form,
Or hear the music of her tongue,                                                                        30
Thine icy soul might then grow warm,
And Age itself once more be young.
Alas! I fear that hoary hair
Is not the badge of creeping Time;
Those locks from endless days you wear,                                                                  35
And never felt youth’s glowing prime.
That lifted eye, whose sharp rebuke
Still points to yonder starry pole —
It never knew the down-cast look,
Which marks the Lover’s pensive soul.                                                                40
The front sublime, whose angry lour
Would kill the flame I nourish here —
It never stoopt to Beauty’s pow’r,
Or fondly smooth’d the frown severe.
That trumpet tongue, whose harsher noise                                                              45
Would from this breast her image scare —
It never us’d the dulcet voice
Which Love employs to woo the Fair.
Till Grace itself can please no more,
Shall I not feel those charms divine?                                                                     50
How can I learn thy rigid lore,
Or leave her face to gaze on thine?
Oh! had my love that ugly frame,
Thy furrow’d brow, thine haggard eye,
This heart had never known a flame,                                                                           55
This breast had never learnt to sigh!

NOTES:

 Title: LOVE’S Answer to REASON This poem is the answer to “REASON’S Expostulation with LOVE,” which was published on the same page in this issue.

21 Bedlam Place or state of confusion or madness; reference to the Hospital of St. Mary of Bethlehem in London which was an asylum from the 1400s through the eighteenth century (Online Etymology Dictionary).

 33 hoary Old, grey-haired (Online Etymology Dictionary).

41 lour Form of lower, a frown, scowl, dark and threatening appearance (Online Etymology Dictionary).

 48 dulcet Soothing, pleasant, sweet (OED).

Source: The Gentlemans Magazine (July, 1788), p. 640. [Hathi Trust]

 Edited by Annika Thiem