THE PRAISES OF ISIS; A POEM. WRITTEN MDCCLV. BY CHARLES EMILY, ESQ. CASTALIAN goddess, come; nor slight the call Of simplest bard; auspicious come, and prompt The flowing numbers; so may Isis lend Attentive ear well-pleas'd, nor with disdain Reject the wreath of freshest flowrets cull'd From Pindus' hill to deck her lovely brow. — Begin; what Muse to Isis shall deny The votive song? for Isis loves the Muse. — Thee, fairest Naiad, oft at early dawn I meditate, till Evening, matron staid, Her tresses dripping with ambrosial dew Advance slow-pacing from the gilded West; Nor cease I to reflect, how blest are they, To envy blest, that in thy peaceful haunts Hold pleasing dalliance with the Muses' train; Yet tho' in other clime I rest remote, Ill-fated, that my wayward lot forbids To wander thy green verge beside, shalt thou Remain unsung; while now the hoary Cam Hard by me rolls his slowly-winding wave. As where Apelles in accordance meet Weds light to shade; and with Promethean art Teaches the breathing canvas to express A furtive life; with wonder we behold Unnumbered beauties rush upon the sight, Gazing, while on the border of the lip Stands mute Suspence, yet doubtful which may first Demand, which last, the tribute of applause; Thus, Isis, while for thee I string the lyre, The tongue of praise awhile forgets its purpose, In magic wonder bound; nor knows the Muse Lost in the pleasing labyrinth, where to bend Her footstep first. — Say, shall I first rehearse, How thou, a virgin yet, wert whilom wont In Nereus' hall to join the festive dance Thy sister train among, the fairest thou Of all the Naiads, that with silver foot Skim the smooth surface of the glassy deep? Say, rather shall I sing, how kingly Thame (If holy bards in better ages born Have story'd true) to share his watery bed Thee woo'd long loving? nor in proud disdain Didst thou refuse with kingly Thame to mix Thy marriageable wave. To Neptune's court Upon that great solemnity repair'd The river gods: all that from crystal urn Enrichening moisture pour o'er British plains. There first advancing with imperial port Proud Humber came; majestic as the god Whose mighty trident shakes the trembling earth: Next Severn, conscious of Sabrina's fate, The king of floods; in greenish mantle clad Bespangled here and there with costly gems And many a glistering pearl: there too was seen The Medway, and the hoarse-resounding Trent, The pleasant Medway, that with conscious pride Beholds the glorious race, who long of yore Breathing stern-visag'd valour scorn'd to stoop The servile neck to William's galling yoke, Unconquerable souls: the yellow Ouse There came, and Towy winding up and down His watry folds, and Deva held of old A sacred current; with the blue-rob'd Dove, And Derwent, sister streams; and Avon fair, The silver-sandal'd nymph: whose bank along At silent eve in pensive posture stretch'd, Calls raptur'd Fancy from Elysian bower Her darling Shakespear's ever hallow'd shade. There was the Tweed, the turret-crested Tyne, And Eden, famous stream; who hath not heard Of Eden? there the plowman as he turns With crooked share the bordering glebe, full oft Gauntlets and rust-worn spears and vizor'd helms, And pond'rous shields with quaint device pourtray'd, And bones enormous of gigantic size With gaping wonder sees; then calls to mind The well known tale, how there by British knights Was many a bold exploit and bloody fight Atchiev'd of old. — But tedious 'twere to name All that with one accord to Neptune's hall Then came, when now the beauteous Isis gave To mix with royal Thame's uxorious flood Her virgin stream. Nor on that solemn day Was wanting (then with rural chaplet crown'd, Tho' now adorn'd with many a glittering tower) Thou, father Cam: that oft with kind attention Hast deign'd awhile to listen, as I tun'd The simple madrigal; nor jealous he, That now his windings intricate I trace With musing gait; and teach the mimic nymph, All as she sits his flowery bank along, To sound the praises of a sister flood: — And can I sing aught better, than thy praise, O lovely Isis? lovelier in the eye Of Phoebus seen, than erst the silver stream Of fabled Castaly; and fam'd as that Which flow'd Minerva's city fast beside, Ilissus, nurse of each ingenuous art. Should I rehearse, or those, whose bounty bad The liquid mirrour of thy glassy wave Yon towery mansions to reflect; or those, Thy darling progeny, who burn'd to grasp Immortal fame, and with unwearied search Urg'd flying Science to its inmost maze; Should I their names rehearse, the sun, that now His mattin beam wide scattering tips with gold The ragged skirt of yonder orient cloud, Wou'd drink the western wave, or ever ceas'd The lengthen'd song. — These structures Bodley plann'd; Those Sheldon's bounty rear'd. That beauteous dome Bids grateful Isis still adore the shade Of Radcliffe, honour'd name: him Paean taught (For he was lov'd of Paean) to explore The medicinal power of juicy shrub And healing plant, that o'er her verdant lap With free profusion parent Nature strews; Nor thankless he; for to the god he rear'd In pious gratitude a stately fane. Whence rose yon fabric, that conspicuous lifts Its sky-topt dome with more majestic pride? 'Twas Wolsey's glorious work: to Science rise No towers more lov'd; for there the mitred sage, In wisdom's lore deep skill'd, with kindest eye Observes the budding Genius as it thrusts Its youthful blossoms; or with conscious joy There oft in recollection sweet beholds Those, (whom his honest nurture erst inform'd With all that's deem'd or excellent or fair) O'er Britain's peaceful land their goodly beams Dispense abroad: names, that to latest time Shall shine distinguish'd in the rolls of Fame. Oft, as thou sat'st within thy pearl pav'd grot, With pleas'd attention, Isis, hast thou caught The dulcet sounds, when in yon sacred grove, To Phoebus sacred, woo'd the Latian Muse Sweet Addison: who like the sedulous bee Rifled each honey-bosom'd flower, that edg'd The fount of Helicon. — Why loves to bend His lonely step to yonder aged oak, Deep musing, while bright Cynthia silvers o'er The negro forehead of uncomely Night, Th' enraptur'd Bard? and on the dew-sprent turf His temples pillowing, sees before him dance (Or dreams he sees) the Muses Nine, and glows With inspiration strange? There Fame records Custom'd the merry Chaucer erst to frame His laughter-moving tale: nor, when his harp He tun'd to notes of louder pitch, and sung Of ladies passing fair, and bloody jousts, And warrior steeds, and valour-breathing knights For matchless prowess fam'd, deserv'd he not The laureat wreath; for he, like Phoebus, knew To build in numbers apt the lofty song. — "Whence art thou, gracious Presence? Art thou sent " From heaven, an angel minister, to bless "These favour'd seats? for that excelling form " Bespeaks thee more than man; "in wonder wrapt Thus Isis cry'd, while on her margent green In youthful grace how amiable! stood Britannia's rising hope. With stedfast eye Long time she gaz'd unsatisfied, and mark'd Each godlike thought, that imag'd on his look With strong reflection shone, the undoubted pledge Of future deeds: tho' yet was Cressy's plain Unstain'd with slaughter: nor had Gallia's king His ravag'd crown yet mourn'd; nor deem'd, that soon Wou'd dawn the luckless day, when he must drag The galling bond of sore captivity, The gaze of clustering multitudes, and deck The glorious triumph of a British boy. — Nor, while yon fair aspiring domes adorn Thy verge, O Isis, shall unmention'd pass Alfred, auspicious name: say, goddess say, Bursts not thy breast with swelling raptures fraught, While Memory with her foregeful pencil paints The glorious portrait? On the godlike form Advanc'd, not graceful less, than on the top Of Delian Cynthus, steps Latona's son, In mildest majesty: beside him went, As musing deep, an hoary-headed Sa, Of wonderous reverence; on his broad smooth front Had Wisdom stampt its fair similitude. The laurel grac'd his temples: in his hand A golden harp, Apollo's gift, he bore; And oft with cunning finger was he wont To rove along the sounding strings, and lift The ravish'd soul of statue-fixt Attention To the heaven of rapture — O how sweet thy charms, All-powerful Harmony! in years indeed Advanc'd he seem'd; yet on the cheek of age Hale vigour with unfading freshness bloom'd; Upright he stept in stately mien, and breath'd Amiable dignity: such seem'd of yore The sire of Jove, what time on Latian plains He dwelt with Janus, hospitable king. Well knew, what was, what is, what is to come, The reverend Sage; and wisely could he treat Of justice, truth, and universal love From man to man; and mark the limits, when Virtue is virtue; when its mad excess Strays headlong into vice: he too could tell How moves the planet in harmonious dance Its central sun around: whence Iris steals The bright variety of hues, that fringe Her humid bow; how springs of night and day The due vicissitude; why o'er the earth Circling the year with grateful interchange The wandering seasons roll; of higher things Nor knew not he; for of th' aetherial mind, That beams to day, to-morrow, and for ever, An unextinguish'd spark; of nature's laws; And nature's God full well could he discourse. Him gracious Heaven in pity to mankind Sent from its star-pav'd court (so sung beneath His ivy'd oak of yore the Druid sage) And nam'd him SCIENCE: first on Asian clime He settled, there where proud Euphrates rolls Amid Chaldaean plains, or on the bank Of Pharian Nile; there he his favourite seat Long choosing, soften'd with refinements meet The savage genius of mankind, and taught With awful laws to curb licentious guilt, To build the wall girt city, and to frame The peaceful league of blest society With all the sweet civilities of life. Him Greece from thence with open arms embrac'd A welcome guest: but chief he lov'd to haunt The porch of Academe; where mildly beam'd The modest wisdom of good Socrates; Where wont the honey'd eloquence to flow From Plato's sweet-distilling lip; and where The letter'd Stagyrite from Nature's source His maxims drew. Nor on Ausonian coast Was Science honour'd less; since there had come The Samian sage, who smit with love of knowledge O'er many a distant realm had stretch'd his search, And climates warm'd beneath another sun. At length when now in more degenerate times Had exile Freedom loath'd the Hesperian shore, With crooked keel did heaven-born Science plow The swelling back of Ocean, till he gain'd Neptunian Albion's hospitable beech; The nurse of Liberty; for ill, I ween, Can Learning thrive, if Freedom shall deny To cherish with mild ray the rising flower; To Albion isle he came, what time was sheath'd The sword of war; and Alfred's arm had crush'd The might of Paynim foes: the gracious king With gladness hail'd his venerable guest; And led him forth, where thro' the flowery meads The silver Isis winds her liquid maze. When thus the royal goodness spake benign: "Here deign, O heaven-descended Sage, to fix " Thy favourite mansion; here to latest times "Instruct thy sons (nor think that Britons bear " Such savage-hearted natures, but will melt "In soft humanity) thy secret stores " To pierce with curious diligence, and snatch "Each fair perfection, each excelling art, " And all, that profits or delights mankind; "Here (as reclining on the peaceful lap " Of Leisure not inglorious, they delight "To muse in calm Retirement's lonely haunt) " Instruct them to pursue the unerring print "Of Wisdom's step; or with no lowly flight, " High borne on Contemplation's eagle wing, "To rise from nature up to nature's God. " How happy they! whom thou shalt give to tread "The pleasant paths of knowledge, and to weave " The lawrel chaplet for their honour'd brows! " He ceas'd, with look mild as when Phoebus sheds His soft effulgence on autumnal eve. The laurel'd seer in thankful guise bow'd low His hoary reverence:" With peculiar love "Sure heaven then looks (he cry'd) on mortals down, " When kings, like Alfred, rise; whose patriot souls "Still center in a nation's good; who live " By glorious works to make their country great: "Such well deserve to rule: such heaven beholds "Well-pleas'd; nor grudges, that to them it gave " Its high vicegerency. — In future time "Some one mayhap, the whilst he shall behold " With conscious pride, how far his native land "Transcends whatever vaunts historic fame " Of polish'd Athens, and imperial Rome "The seat of demi-gods, in holy rapture " Shall bless the name of Alfred; and relate, "That he, still anxious for his Britain's weal, " Led Science there where thro' the flowery meads "Her liquid maze the silver Isis winds — " Nor shalt thou, hospitable flood, where now "I stay my wandering feet, a stranger guest, " Unhonour'd flow: for on thy grassy brim "Full oft shalt thou in silent joy behold, " Bards that shall know to bind the captiv'd soul "With energy of song; and sages wise, " As whilom mus'd th' Athenian stream beside; "And statesmen, patriot souls, with merit fraught " And virtue more than Roman. — Here shall rise "My best-lov'd progeny, that shall explore "(Of Heaven how highly favour'd) what till then " Stagger'd the pedant's pride, and slipt the grasp "Of baffled sophist: he with Truth's bright ray " The ten-fold gloom, which darkening logic spread, "Shall pierce; and, like the golden-footed morn, " Scatter abroad the chearing beam of light. — "These are the glories, that with influence sweet " Shall gild thy shores, blest Isis: these are they, "With homage due that each revolving year " Shall visit Alfred's hallowed shrine, and bring "The pledge of gratitude and filial love."