Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the fong:
To heav'nly themes fublimer ftrains belong.
The moffy fountains, and the fylvan fhades,
The dreams of Pindus, and th' Aonian maids,
Delight no more
o thou voice inspire
Who touch'd Ifaiah's hallow'd lips with fire!
Rapt into future times, the bard begun:
A virgin fhall conceive, a virgin bear a fon!
From Jeffe's root behold a branch arife,
Whole facred flow'r with fragrance fills the fkies.
Th' aethereal fpirit o'er its leaves fhall move,
And on its top defcends the myftic dove.
Ye heav'ns! from high the dewy nectar pour,
And in foft filence fhed the kindly fhow'r!
The fick and weak the healing plant fhall aid,
From storms a fhelter, and from heat a fhade.
All crimes fhall ceafe, and ancient fraud shall fail;
Returning Juftice lift aloft her fcale;
Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,.
And white-rob'd innocence from heav'n defcend.
Swift fly the years, and rife th' expected morn!
Oh spring to light, aufpicious babe be born!!
See nature haftes her earliest wreaths to bring,
With all the incenfe of the breathing spring:
See lofty Lebanon his head advance,
See nodding forefts on the mountains dance:
See fpicy clouds from lowly Saron rife,
And Carmel's flow'ry top perfumes the fkies!
Heark! a glad voice the lonely defert cheers;
Prepare the way! a god, a god appears:
A god, a god! the vocal hills reply,
The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity.
Lo, earth receives him from the bending fkies!
Sink down, ye mountains, and, ye valleys, rise;
With heads declin'd, ye cedars, homage pay!
Be fmooth, ye rocks; ye rapid floods, give way!
The faviour comes! by ancient bards foretold:
Hear him, ye deaf, and all ye blind, behold!
He from thick films fhall purge the visual ray,
And on the fightlefs eye-ball pour the day:
'Tis he th' obftructed paths of found fhall clear,
And bid new mufic charm th' unfolding ear:
The dumb fhall fing, the lame his crutch forego,
And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
No figh, no murmur the wide world shall hear,
From ev'ry face he wipes off ev'ry tear.
In adamantine chains fhall Death be bound,
And hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound.
As the good fhepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks freshest pasture and the pureft air,
Explores the loft, the wand'ring sheep directs
By day o'erfees them, and by night protects;
The tender lambs he raises in his arms,
Feeds from his hand, and in his bofom warms:
Thus fhall mankind his guardian care engage,
The promis'd father of the future age.
No more fhall nation against nation rife,
Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,
Nor fields with gleaming fteel be cover'd o'er
The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more;
But useless lances into fithes fhall bend,
And the broad faulchion in a ploughshare end.
Then palaces fhall rife; the joyful fon
Shall finish what his fhort-liv'd fire begun;
Their vines a fhadow to their race fhall yield,
And the fame hand that fow'd, fhall reap the field.
The fwain in barren deferts with furprise
Sees lilies fpring, and fudden verdure rise,
And starts amidst the thirsty wilds to hear
New falls of water murm'ring in his ear.
On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the bulrufh nods.
Wafte fandy valleys, once perplex'd with thorn,
The fpiry fir and fhapely box adorn;
To leaflefs fhrubs the flow'ring palm fucceed,
And od'rous myrtle to the noifome weed.
Dope. The lambs with wolfes fhall graze the verdant mead,
And boys in flow'ry banks the tiger lead!
The steer and lion at one crib fhall meet,
And harmless ferpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
The fmiling infant in his hand shall take
The crefted bafilifk and fpeckled fnake,
Pleas'd the green luftre of the scales furvey,
And with their forky tongue fhall innocently play.
Rife, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, rise!
Exalt thy tow'ry head, and lift thy eyes!
See, a long race thy fpacious courts adorn;
See future fons, and daughters yet unborn,
In crouding ranks on ev'ry fide arife,
Demanding life, impatient for the skies!
See barb'rous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend;
See thy bright altars throng'd with proftrate kings,
And heap'd with products of fabaean springs!
For thee Idume's spicy forefts blow,
And feeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow.
See heav'n its sparkling portals wide display,
And break upon thee in a flood of day.
No more the rifing fun fhall gild the morn
Nor ev'ning Cynthia fill her filver horn;
But loft, diffolv'd in thy fuperior rays,
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze
O'erflow thy courts: the light himself shall shine
Reveal'd; and God's eternal day be thine!
The feas fhall wafte, the fkies in fmoke decay,
Rocks fall to duft, and mountains melt away;
But fix'd his word, his faving pow'r remains :
Thy realm for ever lafts, thy own MESSIAH reigns!
(William Collins, geboren zu Chichester ums Jahr 1720, gestorben 1756. In seinen Gedichten find häufige Spuren einer sehr glücklichen Phantasie, und eines sehr lebs haft erwärmten Gefühls. Schon in seinem zwanzigsten Jah re schrieb er seine vier persischen, oder, wie er sie in der Fols ge nannte, orientalischen klogen, die ungemein viel Reichthum, Kraft und Anmuth in den Gemåhlden und Bes schreibungen, viel Wahrheit der Empfindung, und, einige kleine Hårten abgerechnet, viel Wohlklang des Verses, haż ben. Auch wußte er das Charakteristische der morgenländis schen Dichtkunst glücklich genug, und ohne Uebertreibung, zu treffen. Langhorne gab im Jahr 1764 die sämmtlichen poetischen Werke dieses Dichters heraus; und Dr. Johnson, der sein Freund war, würdigte ihn einer Biographie, und seine Gedichte der Aufnahme in feine Sammlung englischer Dichter.)
HASSAN; OR, THE CAMEL-
DRIVER.
Scene, The Defert; Time, Mid-day.
In filent horrour o'er the boundless wafte
The driver Hassan with his camels past;
One cruise of water on his back he bore,
And his light fcrip contain'd a fcanty store;
A fan of painted feathers in his hand,
To guard his fhaded face from scorching fand.
The fultry fun had gain'd the middle sky,
And not a tree and not a herb was nigh;
The beasts with pain their dufty way pursue,
Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view!
With defp'rate forrow wild th' affrighted man
Collins. Thrice figh'd, thrice ftruck his breast, and thus be
Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day, When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way! "Ah! little thought I of the blafting wind,
The thirft or pinching hunger that I find!
Bethink thee, Haffan! where fhall Thirst af
fuage,
When fails this cruife, his unrelenting rage?
Soon fhall this fcrip it's precious load refign,
„Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine?
»Ye mute Companions of my toil, that bear
In all my griefs a more than equal fhare!
Here, where no fprings in murmur break away,
Or mofs-cron'd fountains mitigate the day,
,,In vain ye h pe the green delights to know.
Which plains more blefs'd or verdant vales be.
ftow;
„Here rocks alone and tasteless fands are found,
And faint and fickle winds for ever howl around.
Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!
Curs'd be the gold and filver which per
fuade
Weak men to follow far fatiguing trade!
"The lily peace outfhines the filver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore;
Yet money tempts us o'er the defert brown
To ev'ry diftant mart and wealthy town:
"Full oft' we tempt the land, and oft' the fea;
,,And are we only yet repaid by thee?
„Ah! why was ruin fo attractive made,
,,Or why fond man fo eafily betray'd?
"Why heed we not, while mad we hafte along,
The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleasure's fong? „Or wherefore think the flow'ry mountain's fide, ,,The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride, "Why think we these less pleafing to behold
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