The Poetical Works of Elijah Fenton/Ode to the Right Hon. John Lord Gower

by Elijah Fenton

AN ODE

TO THE RIGHT HON.

JOHN LORD GOWER.

WRITTEN IN THE SPRING 1716.

I.
O'er Winter's long inclement sway
At length the lusty Spring prevails,
And, swift to meet the smiling May,
Is wafted by the western gales:
Around him dance the rosy Hours, 5
And, damasking the ground with flow'rs,
With ambient sweets perfume the morn:
With shadowy verdure flourish'd high,
A sudden youth the groves enjoy,
Where Philomel laments forlorn. 10

II.
By her awak'd, the woodland choir
To hail the coming god prepares,
And tempts me to resume the lyre,
Soft warbling to the vernal airs.
Yet once more, O ye Muses! deign 15
For me, the meanest of your train,
Unblam'd t' approach your bless'd retreat,
Where Horace wantons at your spring,
And Pindar sweeps a bolder string,
Whose notes the Aonian hills repeat. 20

III.
Or if invok'd where Thames's fruitful tides
Slow thro' the vale in silver volumes play,
Now your own Phœbus o'er the month presides,
Gives Love the night, and doubly gilds the day:
Thither, indulgent to my pray'r, 25
Ye bright harmonious Nymphs! repair,
To swell the notes I feebly raise;
So, with inspiring ardours warm'd,
May Gower's propitious ear be charm'd
To listen to my lays. 30

I.
Beneath the pole, on hills of snow,
Like Thracian Mars, th’undaunted Swede
To dint of sword defies the foe,
In fight unknowing to recede:
From Volga's banks th' imperious Czar 35
Leads forth his furry troops to war,
Fond of the softer southern sky:
The Soldan galls th' Illyrian coast,
But soon the miscreant moony host
Before the victor-cross shall fly. 40

II.
But here no clarion's shrilling note
The Muse's green retreat can pierce;
The grove from noisy camps remote;
Is only vocal with my verse:
Here, wing'd with innocence and joy, 45
Let the soft hours that o'er me fly
Drop freedom, health, and gay desires;
While the bright Seine, t' exalt the soul,
With sparkling plenty crowns the bowl,
And wit and social mirth inspires. 50

III.
Enamour'd of the Seine, celestial fair!
(The blooming pride of Thetis' azure train)
Bacchus, to win the nymph who caus'd his care,
Lash'd his swift tigers to the Celtic plain;
There secret in her sapphire cell 55
He with the Nais wont to dwell,
Leaving the nectar'd feasts of Jove;
And where her mazy waters flow,
He gave the mantling vine to grow,
A trophy to his love. 60

I.
Shall man from Nature's sanction stray,
With blind Opinion for his guide,
And, rebel to her rightful sway,
Leave all her bounties unenjoy'd?
Fool! time no change of motion knows; 65
With equal speed the torrent flows,
To sweep fame, pow'r, and wealth away
The past is all by death possest;
And frugal Fate, that guards the rest,
By giving, bids him live to-day. 70

II.
O Gower! thro' all that destin'd space
What breath the pow'rs allot to me
Shall sing the virtues of thy race,
United and complete in thee.
O flow'r of ancient English faith! 75
Pursue th' unbeaten patriot path
In which, confirm'd, thy father shone:
The light his fair example gives
Already from thy dawn receives
A lustre equal to its own. 80

III.
Honour's bright dome, on lasting columns rear'd,
Nor envy rusts, nor rolling years consume;
Loud pæans echoing round the roof are hear'd,
And clouds of incense all the void perfume.
There Phocion, Lælius, Capel, Hyde, 85
With Falkland seated near his side,
Fix'd by the Muse the temple grace;
Prophetic of thy happier fame
She, to receive thy radiant name,
Selects a whiter space. 90

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