KYMBER: A MONODY. BY MR. POTTER. YET once more ye lov'd poplars, and once more My silver Yare, your hallow'd haunts I tread, The bough-inwoven bank, the damaskt mead, And seek the sweet shade of the woodbine bower, If haply here the British Muse abide: For not on Isis' academic side, Nor where proud Thamis rolls his royal waves Thro' forest brown or sunny meadow fair, Her rapture-breathing voice enchants the ear: Nor in those fields that honoured Camus laves; He, reverend sire, the sacred groves beneath Oft deckt with laureat wreath, Thro' the still valleys winds his pensive way Without the sweet note of one warbled song; Save ever and anon some plaintive lay Pours its soft airs, the rustic tombs among, To the low winds that thro' his osiers breathe, And murmur to the rustling reeds beneath. Does she o'er Cambria's rugged mountains stray, Snowdon's rude cliffs, or huge Plinlimmon's height? Or in rough Conway's foaming floods delight, That down the steep rocks urge their headlong way? There chaunts the raptur'd bard in solemn strain Malgo's strong lance, Cadwallin's puissant reign, High deeds recorded yet in druid songs: Or swells his woe-wild notes, of power to spread Chill horror round the ruthless tyrant's head, For Urien's fate, for bleeding Modred's wrongs, And smites the harp in dreadful harmony. Or does she love to lie In the mild shade of Hulla's softer groves, And twine the vermeil wreath to grace the youth, Whose rapt breast glows, as o'er the beach he roves, Touch'd with the sacred flame of star-bright truth; Whilst to her lore his manly measure flows, "And wakes old Humber from his deep repose." Yet deign, if not to dwell, thy presence deign Here, heavenly visitant; and with thee bring The loftiest note that swell'd the sounding string, When stern Tyrtaeus rais'd the heroic strain; To arms the warrior poet smote his lyre, And all Laconia caught the martial fire. Thee too, harmonious Maid, the strings obey; Strike them, and bid the inspiring numbers slow, Bid Britain's sons with Sparta's spirit glow, And rouze old Albion with thy awful lay. Thy lay shall well-born WODEHOUSE deign to hear, As now with generous care From Honour's fount th' enlivening streams he brings To visit as they flow, that silver bower, Where the fair plant of publick virtue springs, And breathes pure fragrance from each glowing flower; Like heaven's own amarant th' immortal tree Shoots, blooms, and bears; the growth of KIMBERLEY. Hast thou no verse then, heavenly Virgin say, By Truth attun'd on Fancy's fairy plain; No solemn air, no hymn of higher vein, To hail the blessed morn's auspicious ray, When, these tall towers rejoicing to behold, Forth walk'd the orient sun, array'd in gold, First on their glittering tops t' impress his beams; Thence, glancing downwards, sparkled on the tide That bends along yon hoar grove's moss-grown side, And scattered crimson o'er its azure streams? The Naiads, hasting from their coral caves Beneath the chrystal waves, (In pearled braids their amber tresses bound) Thrice wav'd their hands, and hail'd the rising towers: The wood-nymphs too, with florisht chaplets crown'd, Forsook their groves, forsook their broidered bowers; And thrice their hands they wav'd, and thrice they said, "Raise, ye fair structures, raise your towery head!" Next KYMBER came, slow winding o'er the lea, His beard and sedge-crown'd locks all silver'd o'er With reverend eld, as winter breathing frore Hangs on the bare boughs of the spangled tree: His urn was silver fretted round with gold, With Runic rhimes imbost, and figures old, The illustrious monuments of British fame: Here stout Tenantius draws his righteous sword To crush the curs'd rule of a foreign lord, And spreads unconquered Freedom's sacred flame: There war-worn Kymbeline, by victor's power Forth driven from princely bower, To the thick shelter of these shades retir'd, Feeding high thoughts and flames of vengeful war, (Like a chac'd lion with fell fury fir'd) Writhes on the lurking traitor's close-couch'd spear, And bids the conscious grove, and bids the plain, And kindred stream, his honoured name retain. High on her warlike car BONDUCA stands, The plumed helmet glittering on her brow, Whilst loose in streams of gold her tresses flow, The bow and pointed javelin grace her hands; Deliberate courage lightens in her eye, And conscious worth, and inborn majesty; Heroic empress! as thy virtues spread, Rome's ravening eagle cow'rs his quivering wings, Hope smiles, fair Liberty her blessings brings, And heaven-born Glory rays thy sacred head. Grac'd with these sculptur'd scenes of ancient fame With stately step he came; Nor wanted in his way melodious sound From pipe or pastoral reed, or dulcet voice Of Nymph or Naïad him enringing round, Or quiring birds that in his shade rejoice, Or gently warbling wind, or water's fall Soft trickling from his urn in murmurs musical. Then on the stately structure's towery height With conscious pride he fix'd his raptur'd eyes; And as past scenes of ancient glory rise Arrang'd on Fancy's field in order bright, He paus'd; then graceful bow'd his reverend head, And thus in lofty strain due homage paid. "Ye strong-bas'd battlements, ye gorgeous walls, " Ye princely structures, that with splendor crown'd, "Shine o'er your wide dominion stretching round, " To you with friendly voice your KYMBER calls, "And bids you hail! thereto he adds your name " Renown'd in ancient same, "Hail Wodehouse-tower! To tell you with what pride, " What triumph he your glittering state surveys, "That dignifies his lilly-silver'd side, " And wakes sweet memory of those glorious days, "When full-plum'd Victory wav'd her golden wing, " And deckt with trophies proud his honoured spring. "Yes, KYMBER! now thou may'st with joy retrace " The long succession of thy patriot line; "With joy behold the unclouded lustre shine " Which Virtue beams around her favour'd race. "Canst thou forget the Lord of Wodehouse-tower, " Whose strong built bastions scorn'd the Norman's power? "From Deva's banks (whose mystic waters glide " By holy Whitchurch, thro' those pastur'd plains "Long since the warlike Talbot's rich domains, " When from Blackmere he brought his lovely bride, "The fair L'Estrange) thou saw'st the stout knight lead " To Silfield's happier mead "His Saxon train. There Beauclerk's royal ray " Shin'd on his battailous bold offspring, try'd "In many a hard and chevalrous assay, " When Neustria's fields with crimson gore he dy'd, "Spread vengeful flames revolted Bayeux round, " And dash'd the rampir'd pride of Caën to the ground. "Oft as Britannia's royal ensign wav'd, " And the stern clarion call'd in field to fight, "The warlike WODEHOUSE march'd with prowest might, " And the rough front of deathful danger brav'd. "Let Bara tell, and let Bodotria tell, " Fort, lough, and river, mountain, wood, and dell, "All that from southern Eiden's flowery lea " Reaches to bleak Strathnavern's northern strand, "Was his sword sheath'd, when Edward's iron hand "Spread desolation wide from sea to sea? " Or when the sable warrior's lifted lance "Glar'd in the eyes of France, " Was WODEHOUSE wanting to the hero's fame? "Let Crecy tell, and Poictiers purple plain, " And captive Valois' hallowed oriflame, "His dreadless hardiment let Glequin's chain "Record, and brave Dandrehen's froward fate, "And poor Castilia's tyrant-wielded state. "Who has not heard of Somme's affrighted flood, " How mournfully his cumber'd streams he roll'd "O'er shining hauberks, shields, and helms of gold, " His crystal current stain'd with prince's blood, "When daring Delabreth in wanton pride " The warlike Henry's way-worn troop defied? "But all this gallant trim and rich array " Lay soil'd in dust, when Bedford's burnisat spear "Flam'd in their front, and thunder'd in their rear, " And York's bright blade hew'd out his dreadful way. "Rouze, royal England, rouze thy matchless might, " And with a dragon's flight "Sweep o'er th' ensanguin'd plains of Agincourt: " And see thy WODEHOUSE, whose strong arm subdu'd "The ruin'd bulwarks of yon aged fort, " His golden chevron charg'd with drops of blood, "Rests on the woodmen wild that bear his shield, " And hails thee victor of the well fought field! "Can I forget how blythe my eddies roll'd " And kiss'd their crisp'd banks, when to Tewksbury's plain "My gallant son led his heroic train, "Stout earls, and princely dukes, and barons bold? " Yet, ah for pity! these fierce hostings cease, "That maiden blossom wears the badge of peace, " And will you dye her white leaves red in blood? "But if your flaming courage pricks you forth, " See where the prowling pilferers of the North "With inroad foul o'er Tine's forbidden flood " Rush from their bleak hills, lur'd with scent of prey: "Brook they your firm array? " Far humbler thoughts on Eske's embattail'd banks "They learn'd, as Somerset's victorious spear " With foul disorder broke their bleeding ranks: "Whilst vengeful Wodehouse taught their proud hearts fear, "And bade his thunders tell them, as they fled, " The brother triumphs where the brother bled. "But not on camps and fighting fields alone " My glory rests; when turtle-pennon'd Peace "Hush'd War's harsh roar, and bade his fury cease, " In these lov'd shades her softest lustre shone. "Here heaven-rapt Piety delights to dwell, " Train'd in monastic Flitcham's holy cell; "Here plants her palm, whose hallowed branches spread " O'er towered Richmond's consecrated shrine, "And form'd the only wreath e'er taught to twine " Round desolate Caernarvon's hapless head. "E'en that strong arm, which stretching from a cloud " Crests the atchievement proud "Imprest with Agincourt's emblazon'd name, " Among his laurels wove this sacred bough, "Ennobling valour with Devotion's flame, " And taught the warbled orison to flow, "As 'midst the taper'd choir the solemn priest " Chaunts to the victor saint high heaven's eternal rest. "Here the firm guardians of the publick weal, " Inspir'd with Freedom's heaven-descended flame, "Rose nobly faithful to their country's fame; " In frequent senates pour'd their ardent zeal, "Dash'd the base bribe from curs'd Corruption's hand, " And sav'd from scepter'd Pride the sinking land. "Or, prompt to answer bleeding Europe's call, "To distant realms bore Britain's high behest, " Bade the sword sleep, gave gasping nations rest, "And taught the doubtful balance where to fall. " But in the softer hour of social joy, "When ceas'd the high employ, " These woodland walks, these tufted dales among "The silver-sounding Muses built their bower, " Made vocal with the lute attemper'd song; "Whilst blooming Courtesy's gold-spangled flower, " Cull'd by the Graces, spread its brightest glow "To deck unswerving Honour's manly brow. "And you, age-honoured oaks! whose solemn shades " Inviron this fair mansion, proudly stand "The sacred nourslings of Eliza's hand, "When she with sovereign glory grac'd your glades, " And pleas'd beheld her Boleyn's kindred line "Ennobled with your trophied honours shine. " Spring crestless cravens from such roots as these? "Ask the pale Groyne, ask Tayo's trembling tide, "Ask Cadiz weeping o'er her ruin'd pride, " And Austria scourg'd o'er all the subject seas. "From this deep root my blooming branches spread, " And rais'd their florisht head, "Chear'd with the princely Henry's orient ray; "Till, rising on the morn, importune Night " Spreads her black veil, and blots his golden day; "Darkness ensues, dark deeds, and impious might; " Whilst Discord, mounted on his iron car, "Cries havock, and lets slip the dogs of war. "What then could virtue, 'fall'n on evil days, " On evil days thus fall'n, and evil tongues, "With dangers compast, 'and opprest with wrongs, " Save to the wild woods breathe her plaintive lays, "And charm the shades, and teach the streams to flow " With all the melting melody of woe? "But what avail'd or voice, or tuneful hand, " When hell bred Faction, rear'd on baleful wings, "Stain'd with the blood of nobles and of kings, " Spread total desolation o'er the land? "Ah KYMBER! where was then thy princely state? " Sunk in the general fate; "Thy rich roofs sunk, o'er golden pendents spread; " Fastolff's white croslet mouldered from the wall, "And Hamo's lion dropt his gold crown'd head; " The sacred chapel sunk, the festive hall; "E'en thy tall towers, majestic in decay, " Like thy lost monarch, low in ruins lay. "Thus Britain sunk, and thus sunk Wodehouse tower; " So sinks the sun, as o'er the turbid skies "Sudden the storm-engendering clouds arise, " And vex with uproar wild Night's fearful hour; "That past, his bright beams resalute the day, " And heighten'd splendors crown his orient ray: "So Britain rose, so rose my princely state. " But not the swelling column massy proof, "The moulded pediment, the fretted roof, " Not this fair fabric proudly elevate, "Tho' fix'd by Prowse's just palladian hand " Its towred honours stand; "Not this clear lake, whose waving crystal spreads " Round yon hoar isle with awful shades imbrown'd: "Not these pure streams that vein the envermeil'd meads: " Nor those age-honoured oaks wide waving round; "Exterior glories these, of humbler fame, " Beam not that splendent ray which dignifies my name. "The spark of honour kindling glorious thought, " The soul by warm benevolence refin'd, "The aethereal glow that melts th' empassion'd mind, " And Virtue's work to fair perfection brought, "Be these my glories. And thou, Power benign! " Whose living splendors round the patriot shine, "Immortal Genius of this far-fam'd land, " This scepter'd isle thron'd midst the circling sea, "Seat of the brave, and fortress of the tree, " Oft hast thou deign'd to take thy hallow'd stand, "These shades among; at Virtue's radiant shrine " Oft caught the flame divine, "When dark Corruption dim'd thy sovereign light; " Thence beam'd thy solemn soul-ennobling ray, "To gild these groves with all thy lustre bright, " Where nobly thoughtful Mordaunt loves to stray, "And manly Prowse with every science crown'd, " In Freedom's rustic seat the polish'd Graces thron'd. "And thou, to whom thy KYMBER tunes this strain, " If strain like this may reach thy nicer ear, "O deign in mine thy country's voice to hear, " Which never to a WODEHOUSE call'd in vain! "By the proud honours of thy martial crest, " The trophied tombs where thy fam'd fathers rest, "By Lacy's, Clervaux' , Hunsdon's, Armine's name, " By Manhood's, Glory's, Freedom's, Virtue's praise, "Wake the high thought, the lofty spirit raise, " And blazon thy hereditary fame. "That fame shall live, whilst Pride's unrighteous power, " The pageant of an hour, "Fades from the guilty scene, and sinks in night: " That fame shall live, and spread its constant rays, "Warm like the blessed sun with genial light; " Whilst Vice and Folly spend their baleful blaze, "As meteors, glaring o'er a troubled sky, " Shoot their pernicious fires, amaze, and die. " He ceas'd his gratulation: the high strain Pierc'd the thick gloom where Britain's Genius lay Cover'd with charmed cloud from view of day: He heard, and bursting thro' the falsed train, In all the majesty of empire rose, And issued stern to quell his vaunting foes. The Naïads saw, and swell'd their surging floods; Old KYMBER saw, and smil'd; the burnish'd glades Rejoic'd; the groves wav'd their exulting shades; And lofty Feorhou bow'd with all his woods! The lordly lion ramping by his side, He march'd in martial pride, And pour'd his flaming spirit o'er the land; The kindling hamlets rouz'd with war's alarms, Snatch the bright faulchion from the hireling hand, And bravely train their free-born youth to arms; Whilst Liberty her glittering ensign waves, And bids each generous son disdain an host of slaves. Then royally on the ocean wave enthron'd, With all his terrors arm'd, he rode sublime, And roll'd his thunders o'er each hostile clime: Seine's silken vassals trembled at the sound; The cloud-wrapt promontory shook, and all Its rock-bas'd rampires nodded to their fall. Reign ever thus, unconquer'd Britain, reign; Whilst thy free sons in firm battalions stand, And guard with lion-ramp their native land: Thus fix thy throne, thus rule the subject main! So shall bright Victory o'er thy laurel'd head Her eagle-pennons spread; Whilst soft-ey'd Peace, quitting at thy command Her radiant orb in yon empyreal plain, Waves o'er the willing world her myrtle wand: So shall the Muse her Doric oat disdain, And touch'd with sphere-born Rapture's hallow'd fire, Swell her triumphal notes, and sweep the golden lyre.