Odes on Several Subjects/On Sculpture
On SCULPTURE.
Led by thee Muse, my step pervades
The sacred haunts, the peaceful shades,
Where Art, and Sculpture reign:
I see, I see, at their command
The living stones in order stand,
And marble breathe thro' ev'ry vein.
Time breaks his hostile scythe; he sighs
To find his pow'r malignant fled,
"And what avails my dart," he cries,
"Since these can animate the dead?
"Since wak'd to mimic life again in stone
"The Patriot seems to speak, the Heroe frown?"
The sacred haunts, the peaceful shades,
Where Art, and Sculpture reign:
I see, I see, at their command
The living stones in order stand,
And marble breathe thro' ev'ry vein.
Time breaks his hostile scythe; he sighs
To find his pow'r malignant fled,
"And what avails my dart," he cries,
"Since these can animate the dead?
"Since wak'd to mimic life again in stone
"The Patriot seems to speak, the Heroe frown?"
There Virtue's silent train are seen,
Fast fixt their looks, erect their mien.
Lo while with more than Stoic soul
The [1]Attic sage exhausts the bowl,
A pale suffusion shades his eyes,
'Till by degrees the marble dies!
See there the injur'd [2]poet bleed,
Ah see he droops his languid head!
What starting nerves, what dying pain,
What horrour freezes ev'ry vein!
These are thy works, O Sculpture, thine to shew
In rugged Rock a feeling sense of Woe.—
Fast fixt their looks, erect their mien.
Lo while with more than Stoic soul
The [1]Attic sage exhausts the bowl,
A pale suffusion shades his eyes,
'Till by degrees the marble dies!
See there the injur'd [2]poet bleed,
Ah see he droops his languid head!
What starting nerves, what dying pain,
What horrour freezes ev'ry vein!
These are thy works, O Sculpture, thine to shew
In rugged Rock a feeling sense of Woe.—
Yet not alone such themes demand
The Phidian stroke, the Dædal hand;
I see, with melting eyes,
A softer scene of grief display'd,
While from her breast the duteous Maid
Her Infant Sire with food supplies.
In pitying stone the weeps to see
His squalid hair, and galling chains,
And trembling on her bended knee,
His hoary head her hand sustains;
While ev'ry look and sorrowing feature prove
How soft her breast, how great her filial love.
The Phidian stroke, the Dædal hand;
I see, with melting eyes,
A softer scene of grief display'd,
While from her breast the duteous Maid
Her Infant Sire with food supplies.
In pitying stone the weeps to see
His squalid hair, and galling chains,
And trembling on her bended knee,
His hoary head her hand sustains;
While ev'ry look and sorrowing feature prove
How soft her breast, how great her filial love.
Lo there the wild Assyrian Queen
With threat'ning brow, and frantic mien!
Revenge, revenge, the Marble cries,
While fury sparkles in her eyes.
[3]Thus was her awful form beheld,
When Babylon's proud sons rebell'd,
She left the woman's vainer care,
And flew with loose dishevel'd hair;
She coucht her lance, imbru'd in blood,
While pale Sedition trembling stood;
In sudden silence the mad croud obey'd
Her awful voice, and Stygian Discord fled.
With threat'ning brow, and frantic mien!
Revenge, revenge, the Marble cries,
While fury sparkles in her eyes.
[3]Thus was her awful form beheld,
When Babylon's proud sons rebell'd,
She left the woman's vainer care,
And flew with loose dishevel'd hair;
She coucht her lance, imbru'd in blood,
While pale Sedition trembling stood;
In sudden silence the mad croud obey'd
Her awful voice, and Stygian Discord fled.
With hope, or fear, or love, by turns
The Marble leaps, or shrinks, or burns,
As Sculpture waves her hand;
The varying Passions of the mind
Her faithful handmaids are assign'd,
And rise or fall at her command.
When now life's wasted lamps expire,
When sinks to dust this mortal frame,
She like Prometheus grasps the fire,
Her touch revives the lambent flame;
While Phœnix-like the statesman, bard, or sage;
Spring fresh to life, and breathe thro' ev'ry age.
The Marble leaps, or shrinks, or burns,
As Sculpture waves her hand;
The varying Passions of the mind
Her faithful handmaids are assign'd,
And rise or fall at her command.
When now life's wasted lamps expire,
When sinks to dust this mortal frame,
She like Prometheus grasps the fire,
Her touch revives the lambent flame;
While Phœnix-like the statesman, bard, or sage;
Spring fresh to life, and breathe thro' ev'ry age.
Hence—where the Organ, full and clear,
With loud Hosanna's charms the ear,
Behold (a prism within his hands)
Absorb'd in Thought great [4]Newton stands!
Such was his Brow, and Look serene,
His serious Gate, and musing Mien,
When taught on Eagle-wings to fly,
He trac'd the wonders of the Sky;
The chambers of the sun explor'd,
Where tints of thousand hues are stor'd;
Whence ev'ry flow'r in painted robes is drest,
And varying Iris steals her gaudy vest.
With loud Hosanna's charms the ear,
Behold (a prism within his hands)
Absorb'd in Thought great [4]Newton stands!
Such was his Brow, and Look serene,
His serious Gate, and musing Mien,
When taught on Eagle-wings to fly,
He trac'd the wonders of the Sky;
The chambers of the sun explor'd,
Where tints of thousand hues are stor'd;
Whence ev'ry flow'r in painted robes is drest,
And varying Iris steals her gaudy vest.
Here as Devotion, heav'nly Queen,
Conducts her best, her fav'rite train,
At Newton's shrine they bow;
And while with raptur'd eyes they gaze,
With Virtue's purest vestal rays,
Behold their ardent bosoms glow.
Hail mighty Mind! hail awful Name!
I feel inspir'd my lab'ring breast;
And lo I pant, I burn for fame!
Come Science, bright æthereal guest,
Oh come, and lead thy meanest, humblest son,
Thro' wisdom's arduous paths to fair renown!
Conducts her best, her fav'rite train,
At Newton's shrine they bow;
And while with raptur'd eyes they gaze,
With Virtue's purest vestal rays,
Behold their ardent bosoms glow.
Hail mighty Mind! hail awful Name!
I feel inspir'd my lab'ring breast;
And lo I pant, I burn for fame!
Come Science, bright æthereal guest,
Oh come, and lead thy meanest, humblest son,
Thro' wisdom's arduous paths to fair renown!
Could I to one faint ray aspire
One spark of that celestial fire,
The leading Cynosure, that glow'd
While Smith explor'd the dark abode,
Where Wisdom sat on Nature's shrine,
How great my boast! what praise were mine!
Illustrious sage, who first could'st tell
Wherein the pow'rs of Music dwell,
And all the magic Chains untye,
That bind the soul of Harmony!
To Thee, when mould'ring in the dust,
To Thee shall swell the breathing bust,
Shall here (for this reward thy merits claim)
"Stand next in place to Newton as in fame!"
One spark of that celestial fire,
The leading Cynosure, that glow'd
While Smith explor'd the dark abode,
Where Wisdom sat on Nature's shrine,
How great my boast! what praise were mine!
Illustrious sage, who first could'st tell
Wherein the pow'rs of Music dwell,
And all the magic Chains untye,
That bind the soul of Harmony!
To Thee, when mould'ring in the dust,
To Thee shall swell the breathing bust,
Shall here (for this reward thy merits claim)
"Stand next in place to Newton as in fame!"
- ↑ Socrates, who was condemned to die by Poison.
- ↑ Seneca, who, according to Pliny, was Orator, Poet, and Philosopher.
- ↑ Semiramis, cum ei circa Cultum Capitis sui occupatæ nunciatum esset Babylonem defecisse; alterâ Parte Crinium adhuc soluta, protinus ad eam expugnandam cucurrit; nec prius Decorem Capillorum[errata 1] in Ordinem, quam tantam urbem in Potestatem suam redegit. Quo circa Statua ejus Babylone posita est illo Habitu, quo &c.Val. Max. de Irâ.
- ↑ A very elegant, and high-finish'd Statue of Sir Isaac Newton. It was executed by Roubiliac, and erected in Trinity College Chapel in Cambridge, at the Expence of Dr. Smith.
Erratum