Matilda Betham

“ Let not pride lift the thoughtless head too high,
Temerity arch o'er the scornful brow,
Contemptuous glances arm the sparkling eye,
Or the high heart with self-complacence glow!
Alas! full soon the eve of life arrives,
Though pale Disease's train approach not nigh;
Short is the summer of the happiest lives,
If no rude storm disturbs the smiling sky.
This wretched body, bending to the earth,
Once, on the wings of health, alert and gay,
Shone forth the foremost in the train of mirth,
And cloudless skies announc'd a beauteous day. ”

“ As thus she mourn'd, with bitterest woe opprest,
A ray of light illumin'd all the grove,
And a consoling voice the fair addrest,
In the soft accents of parental love.
Though still she clasp'd her hero's valued corse,
She slowly rais'd her languid, streaming eyes,
And own'd astonishment's resistless force,
Viewing the stranger with a wild surprize. ”

“ And swell his train with all the lazy vapours
That hover in the air: an easy prey
To the gigantic phantom, whose curl'd wing,
Sweeps in these worthless triflers of the sky,
And wraps them in his bosom. Go, vain shadow!
Sick with the burthen of thy fancied greatness,
A breath of zephyr wafts thee into nothing,
Scatters thy spreading plumes, uncrowns thy front,
And drives thee downward to thy mother earth,
To mix with vapour and dissolve in dew.
Such are the dreams of hope, which to the eye
Of youthful inexperience, seem to touch
The pure, unclouded sky of certainty. ”

“ The eye, which once elate, disdain'd the ground,
Now sunk and languid in its orb appears.
Oh! never, never will I cease to grieve!
And sure repentance pardon may obtain!
Can woe unfeign'd incite heav'n to relieve
A wretch opprest with agonizing pain?
Ah no! my hands are stain'd with brother's blood! ”

“ Some soothing thought may calm his woe,
And when he gives a loose to pain,
He feels not that he mourns in vain,
But fancies still his darling nigh,
And grateful for each bursting sigh,
Still bending o'er, with list'ning ear,
Each weeping, fond complaint to hear,
The dear-lov'd phantom hovers round,
And pours a balm in every wound. ”

“ E'en Cenulph's fondness from his son;
Or could my ever-honour'd sire,
A proof of Cen'lin's faith require?
Can force so needful now appear,
To aid a pow'r which I revere?
When eager beauty's form to view,
I first to Selred's court withdrew,
A single wish thy pow'r maintain'd,
A single wish thy son regain'd.
I left the maid whose matchless charms,
Each rooted prejudice disarms,
Who rul'd my heart with sovereign sway,
And taught a Mercian to obey
Laws that East-Saxons can impart,
When wit and beauty string the dart ”

“ Light breezes dance along the air,
The sky in smiles is drest,
And heav'ns pure vault, serene and fair,
Pourtrays the cheerful breast.
Each object on this moving ball
Assumes a lovely hue;
So fair good-humour brightens all
That comes within her view.
Her presence glads the youthful train,
Reanimates the gay,
And, round her, by the couch of pain,
The light-wing'd graces play.
Her winning mein and prompt reply,
Can sullen pride appease;
And the sweet arching of her eye
E'en apathy must please. ”

“ I hope not stranger to the zeal,
Which warm'd your bosoms in Religion's cause.
When impious men commanded you to break
The vow which bound your souls, and which in youth
Warm Piety's emphatic lips had made. ”

“ Of Death, or his attendant train;
For in thy pure and spotless breast,
The fear of heav'n did only reign.
"Thus, when the still-unsated waves
Spread o'er thy head their whelming arms,
When horrid darkness reign'd around,
And lightnings flash'd their dire alarms,
13"When, wing'd with death, each moment flew,
And blood the foaming ocean stain'd,
Thy courage cool, consistent, true,
Its native energy maintain'd. ”

“ And tell the world that here a DILLON rests.
One, who in beauty's prime forsook the world,
And, self-bereav'd of all it holds most dear,
Retir'd, to pass the pilgrimage of life,
In solemn prayer and peaceful solitude. ”

“ Can you in vain extend your spotless hands?
Will not heav'n listen when its priests complain,
And save its altars from unhallow'd bands?
Oh yes! I'll fear no more! The sacred groves,4
That rear their untouch'd branches to the skies;
Beneath whose shade its chosen servant roves,
Hidden from weak, unconsecrated eyes:
Beneath whose shade the choral bards rehearse,
Piercing, with uprais'd eyes, each mist that shrouds,
And, listening, catch the heav'n-dictated verse,
By airs etherial wailed from the clouds:
It ne'er can be—but hark! ”

“ And sullen mist usurping day-light's room.
Not her's the feelings which regret inspires,
When sorrows keen have made the spirits low;
Adversity has damp'd the youthful fires,
And all the tears that fall are tears of woe. ”

“ The gloomy train of ills are put to flight,
That blacken Life's uncertain, tedious day,
O! succour now this restless, pining heart!
Give to these feeble, weary limbs repose!
Fly to me, Sleep! and let thy sombre wings
Over my couch their dusky plumes disclose!
O! where is Silence, who avoids the light?
Where the wild dreams that flutter in thy train? ”

“ Nor Dian's ever-healthful train,
When skimming o'er the spacious plain.
Had not more pure, more lively dyes,
Or brighter lustre in their eyes.
The king, so late by woe deprest,
Felt hope reanimate his breast,
And as his Cen'lin nearer drew,
His waking hopes more vivid grew.
"My friends," he cried, "will you believe,
That open mien can e'er deceive?
That blooming form can e'er unfold,
A heart ungenerous and cold,
That melting softness of the eye,
Can harbour direst cruelty? ”

“ Arise! thou loveliest of misfortune's train,
And cease these weak, desponding tears to shed;
The soft effusions of thy grief restrain,
Which serve but to disturb the peaceful dead.
The youth you mourn, far from these scenes of woe,
To worlds of never-ending joy is flown ”

“ In your fair walks a stranger roves,
And treacherous Normans daily tread!
"E'en now their presence may prophane
The halls where Herbert did reside!
E'en now may joy and gladness reign,
And Adelaide be Percy's bride.
"Yet no! her soul, the seat of truth,
Would ne'er a second love receive!
The sacred vows of artless youth,
Her Alwin ever shall believe! ”

“ I might, my conscience lull'd and passions fir'd,
Have lost my soul in the bewitching blaze.
Dear rising train, let not my words offend!
Nor the pure dictates of my love despise;
To one, late like yourselves, attention lend,
And, taught by his experience, be wise!
Ah! banish from your eye the fiend Disdain;
Let fair simplicity supply its place ”

“ No more its piercing lustre meet my eye!
On night's black wings my only comfort flew;
At breath of morn I sicken and I die.
Where can I fly? In what sequester'd clime
Does darkness ever hold her ebon reign?
Where woeful dirges measure out the time,
And endless echoes breathe the sullen strain.
Where dreary mountains rear their low'ring heads,
To pierce the heavy and umbrageous clouds;
And where the cavern dewy moisture sheds,
And night's thick veil the guilty mourner shrouds. ”

“ The child of weakness, follow'd by disgrace.
Should time from you each glowing beauty wrest,
You will not then those self-reproaches feel,
Which every eye awaken'd in my breast,
And twenty winters scarce suffic'd to heel. ”

“ And add new lightening to his piercing eye!
Then may my lover gain unrivall'd fame,
The Roman banners may less proudly flow,
Then he may humble their detested name,
And their high plumes wave o'er' a British brow!
Then may his chariot,2 wheeling o'er the plain,
Hurl death and desolation all around,
While his intrepid front appals their train,
And make our proud invaders bite the ground! ”

“ Alas! e'en now I feel the icy hand
Of hasty death, press down my swelling heart;
E'en now I hear a sweet aerial band,
Summon thy faithful Arthur to depart.
Let not thy tears an absent lover mourn,
Remember that he bravely, nobly died ”

“ I have not vainly attempted to ascend to the steeps of Parnassus. If, wandering at its foot, I have mistaken perishable shrubs for never-dying flowers, the errors of a youthful mind, first viewing the fascinating regions of fancy, will not be rigidly condemned; for wherever there is true taste, there will be genuine candour. ”

“ The many endearing instances of regard I have experienced since I had the honor of being known to your Ladyship, while they impress my mind with gratitude, flatter my hopes with a favourable reception of the following miscellanies, which, under your patronage, I venture to submit to the public.
Considered as the first essays of an early period of life, and as the exercises of leisure, my wishes suggest, that they may not, perhaps, be found wholly unworthy of attention ”

“ Methinks e'en now I hear her speak,
I see the tear upon her cheek;
The musing boy's abstracted brow,
And the high-arching eye below.
The stifled sigh and anxious heave,
The kindling heart which dares not grieve ”

“ But horrors, which e'en madness can't efface.
My dearest brother, and my tenderest friend,
O come, and save me from this dark abyss!
Draw hence the darts which my rack'd bosom rend!
And bear me with you to the realms of bliss!
Ah! whence that pang which smote my shuddering heart?
Where now, for refuge, can lost Anselm fly?
'Tis Death! I know him by his crimson dart!
And, am I fit? Oh heav'ns! I cannot die!
My spirit is not form'd for rapid flight ”

“ The shield being their only armour, when held out to protect a wounded or dying friend, left them defenceless.
4: The groves were consecrated to the celebration of religious mysteries.
5: The Roman standard.
6: The Druids are said to have preached the doctrine of transmigration, in order to inspire their warriors with the greater contempt of death.
7: The practice of staining themselves with blue was common among the Britons.
8: The people, excepting the priests, shaved off all the hair from their faces, but what grew on the upper lip. ”

“ She cross'd her blood-stain'd hands upon her breast,
And bow'd her humble, grateful head, resign'd.
AUGUST 27, 1794.
1: Alluding to the armour of the Romani.
2: The Britons fought in low chariots, which they could leave and re-ascend at pleasure. ”

“ Your Ladyship's most obliged humble servant, MATILDA BETHAM.
Stonham, Nov. 20, 1797.
TO THE READER. If, in the following pages, there may be found any unacknowledged imitations, I hope I shall not be censured as an intentional plagiarist; for it has been my wish, however I may be esteemed presumptuous, not to be unjust; and I sometimes fear lest an imperfect recollection of another's idea should have appeared to me as a dawning thought of my own. ”

“ Yet well he knows the dreadful spear to wield—
Alas! their fearful limbs are fenc'd with care:
And, what can valour, when th'extended shield3
May leave, so oft, his gen'rous bosom bare?
Say, reverend Druids, can you bless in vain? ”