An elegy written among the ruins of an abbey

An elegy written among the ruins of an abbey

WHERE sighs the Zephyr to yon lonely Tree, A solemn Grove its leafy Mantle spread: Where bend yon mouldring Turrets oer the Sea, A venerable Dome once reard its Head. The solemn Grove, the venerable Dome, Were erst frequented by a numrous Train, Evn chaste as they who Dians Mountain roam, But not subjected to her gentle Reign:{4} Far other Goddess did this Train obey, Far other Temples, other Altars raisd, Far other Meaning breathd their Choral Lay, Far other Incense on their Altars blazd: Veild Superstition wakd her magic Sound, Bad Albions Sons forsake the splendid Court, Forsake Amusements variegated Round, And to her sable Standard here resort: Alas! obsequious to her stern Command, A sullen-pensive Brotherhood they came, Refusd to trace the Paths by Nature pland, And razd from Glorys Page their ancient Name.{5} Nor these alone were found incloisterd here, Here also dwelt the simple-minded Swain, Who wrapt in Sloth dreamd out the lazy Year, While Industry sat weeping on the Plain. The many Temples rising fair to view, Which towring Superstition calld her own, With Hand unerring radiant Truth oerthrew, And snatchd th Impostor from her tinseld Throne: On yon Dust-leveld Spire the crafty Maid, With Indignation brooding in her Breast Sits gloomilyHer Votries all are fled, Her Lamps extinguishd, and her Rites suppressd:{6} Within her Hand a vacant String she holds That once connected many a hallowd Bead: The blotted Scroll the other Hand unfolds, Contains the Maxims of her slighted Creed: Couchd at her Feet, behold a mouldring Shrine (Of various Relics once the dread Abode) Where runs the Spider oer his treachrous Line, Where lurks the Beetle, and the loathsome Toad: On Darkness wing now sails the midnight Hour, When for the grateful Sound of choral Prayr, The shrieking Owl from yon disparted Towr, With Notes of Horror wakes her trembling Ear.{7} Of human Grandeur mark the fleeting Day, How frail each Purpose, and each Wish how vain! The strong-built Domes, the cloisterd Fanes decay, And Ruin hovers round the desert Scene. The Path that leads to yonder shatterd Pile Is now perplexd with many a sordid Brier: No Crowd is seen within the sacred Isle, The Sabbath mourns its long-deserted Quire. The golden Crozier blended with the Dust In horrid Folds the Serpent clasps around: The powrful Image, and the sainted Bust, Defamd, unhallowd, press the weedy Ground.{8} Not distant far, her gold-encircled Towr Th inviolable Dome majestic reard, On whose dread Altar breathd some hidden Powr, By Terror guarded, and by Kings reverd: To which Asylum evn th Assassin came, (His Hand audacious still imbrued with Gore) The Boon of full Impunity to claim, While feeble Justice wept her baffled Lore. So Truth at length dissolvd the mental Chain, And banishd Error from th enlightend Shore: So closd at length the busy-acted Scene, The Curtain dropd, and Follys Mask was oer.{9} Then gladsome Ceres raisd her drooping Head, (While yellow Harvests gilt the smiling Plain) Beheld a youthful Band around her spread, With Sickles armd to reap the bearded Grain. The Warrior then beneath the trailing Vest, The peaceful Cassock, or the drowsy Cowl, No longer quenchd the Flame within his Breast, Or lulld the Purpose of his daring Soul: But rushd undaunted to the doubtful War, Pursued where Glory led the radiant Way, Till Neptune rising on his coral Car, Resignd his watry World to Britains Sway.{10} The Virgin Fair by venal Guardians doomd, By Error prompted, or subdued by Force, No more in Cloisters drear their Days consumd: Like Flowrets strewd around the senseless Corse. Triumphant Hymen haild the blissful Hour, And saw a white-robd social Train approach, For whom the Pleasures dressd the happy Bowr, And scatterd Roses oer the destind Couch. Still other Blessings from this Change appeard, No injurd Family did then behold On loitring Monks its native Wealth conferd, Nor spacious Altars coverd with its Gold.{11} Full many trod that crooked Path to Fame, Yet from her Hand receivd no lasting Meed, She from her Annals rends their fading Name, And gives to Infamy the worthless Deed: But Vengeance some pursued with dire Disgrace, Pursued beyond the Circle of its Sphere, Evn to the Cemeterys dark Recess, Nor spard them sleeping on the peaceful Bier: Beside the spreading of that sombrous Yew, Where yawns with hideous Chasm the vaulted Cave, Presenting to the fixd astonishd View, The Profanation of a rifled Grave:{12} The large-endowing Rufus lay inurnd With many a sculpturd Image on his Shrine, That smit with Sorrow oer his Ashes mournd, The Sister-Graces and the tuneful Nine. Imprinted on Traditions storied Leaf Is found (to this sepulchral Spot confind) A Terror-breathing Tale that wins Belief, And oft repeated by the neighbring Hind! From where yon Mountain shades the dreary Plain, Attracted by the Scent of human Blood, A Troop of Wolves voracious scourd amain, And at this Charnel Vault requird their Food:{13} When, horrid to relate! they burst the Tomb, And swift defending to the deepest Shade, Up-tore the shrouded Tenant from its Womb, And oer the mangled Corse relentless preyd. The paly Stars with dim reluctant Light, Like Tapers glimmerd on their Orgies foul, While gliding Spectres screamd with wild Affright, Re-echod loud by their tremendous Howl. Ah! what availd the solemn-moving Herse? The fabled-mantled Cars, the Funral Throng? Gravd on his Monument the soothing Verse? The Priests, the Torches, and the choral Song?{14} Misjudging Wretch! while thou with Hand profuse, Thy Treasures on this Mansion didst entail, And pour down Riches on the vowd Recluse, Thine Orphan Babes partook a scanty Meal: Thy widowd Fair, her Cheek bedewd with Tears, Approachd with suppliant Knee the Cloister-Gate, There oft disclosd in vain, her poignant Cares, Returning still to weep her hapless Fate. ......Buy Now (To Read More)

Product details

Ebook Number: 66964
Author: Jerningham, Mr. (Edward)
Release Date: Dec 18, 2021
Format: eBook
Language: English