The Sun.
London, England, 1838-08-05 00:00:00

BY MURDO YOUNG,

Oh Genius I—soul of harmony,
If in my bOsorn sleep thy fire,
Awake it's flame to ecstacy,
And sweep the, ravished lYre !
While emtilatiqn deems thy power
Inspired front life's primeval hour,
And glorying in his mental force,
Pursues Ambition's daring course.
Thou stimulus of mystic form,
Still deeply felt though dimly seen,—
Wild—in the soul-impassioned storm,
And in the bosom-calm, serene.
What mighty beings worship thee,
Spirit of song and liberty 1
But ah, what votaries destroy
Thy promise of immortal joy I
Their aimless views the mental balance keep,
Uneasy in suspense, or wavering half asleep-

But come, thou bent of vigour's soul,
Ambitious to attain the goal—
Come, portion of celestial fire,
Infused by nature's awful sire /
Designed to burn, or less or ir,cre,
As heaven instils the active power:-
'Tis inclination's potent vein,

Enamoured of its vital course—
That bursts restraint's obnoxious chain;

Or sleeps indignant at its source.
Ah, who would curb the fiery steed
In emulation's eager speed ?
Who would still love's first emotion ?
Who arrest the rolling ocean ?
Who would chain the wanton wind—
Cramps the wild genius of the mind !
Blasts the rich promise of the vernal year,
And clouds the sun of day in glory's glad career•

In vain—the spirit will be free
Though bends the frame in thraldrom's chain;
And nature I never yet to thee
Rose the blest song of liberty,
So sweet as woke the captive's strain I
Men heard—and blushed that they were nien,--.•
Earth shall be free—and men rejoice.
Do tyrants smile ?—'tis nature's voice.
And Genius, in his visions high,
Breathes freedom to posterity.
Freedom ! what spirits bless thy sway,
Immortal habitant c ind—
And catch thy beauty from the day,
Thy music from the wind.
Till borne away by patriot zeal,
Song breathes what they divinely feel--
And Genius, burning with seraphic flame, tl,,
Hymns to the ravished world the glory of '1 /
name

Behold in Hope's caressing arms,
While yet her fond enthusiast slumbers--
He dreams of nature's—glory's charms--
And wakes to breathe in numbers.
But who will hear his friendless lay,
Who dare the modest youth approve ?'
The world is mute.—He turns away
While envy tears the laurel'd bay
By fancy's fairy fingers wove 1
Pale scorn, how bitter is thy love 1
Thy cold compassion, who would boar?
But Genius spurns the world—to rove
Through indignation's twilight grove,
And shed the burning tear.
Day breaks—shall he return again,
To mingle with the herd of men ?
And struggle in starvation's field
For laurels which they blush to yield?
No I—but the feeble wants of nature crave'
He weeps for Chatterton—and finds them .
grave 1

Oh world ungrateful as thou art,
Why, why withhold poor merit's claira--.
When splendour wins thy selfish heart,

To glory in thy shame 1
But who would bend the humble knee,
To thine abhorred hypocrisy ?
That slave shall merit thy regard,—
But not the poet's bright reward,—
Whose proud devotion woos to be
Espoused to immortality 1
Fond child of hope ! what dreams employ
Thy spirit in the realms of joy !
To range the deep expanse of night,
Or hail the rainbow-dawn of
Or see instruction's page sublime,
Emblazoned on the wings of time.
Muse of genius! w!ldly strong,
And richly various glows thy song_
Enamoured still of nature's beauteous for►n'
Delight sails on the breeze, or rapture mount'
the storm.

Who but Genius framed the lyre,
And bade enthusiasm sweep the string—
When music wrapt the soul on fae,

And set the foot on wing !
Behold in fancy's magic ring,
What charmed passions move !
See pride forget disaster's sting—
Ambition dance,—and sorrow sing
In harmony with. love.
Or mark the pencil's witching grace,
Make beauty dearer to the heart,
Or sculpture, breathing loveliness,
From inspiration's chisel start.
Oh power of Genius ever hail
In modesty's angelic veil.
But why, alas! should nature hide,
In vesture meek, her darling pride ?
Ah 1 why with promise bright adorn
The dawn of life's prophetic morn,
And damp the summer of its years, 011°
With pale misfortune's sighs, and sorrow's
guished tears ?

VII.
Why feels the Genius of the soul
Adversity's supreme controul
Why ?—but to prove man's might the 110rj'
In life's rough path—so smooth before
And strengthen, by his triumph there,
Worth, friendless, struggling with desPalf*
Thou stepdame of unfavoured youth,
Adversity, rude nurse of truth !
The proudest spirit bends to thee,
With stern, yet deep humility,—
Till from his heart in anguish steal
The tear his cheek disdains to feel I
But salutary virtues arm
The torments of thy powerful charm.
Else how should Homer's genius glow
In pale starvation's wildest throe,—
And pour the universal strain,
That boasts unrivalled worth in glory's brig
btegt
fane.

VIII.
Oh 1 rapture of the brilliant flame,
Impelling modesty to fame,
May never indolence enslave
The spirit can misfortune brave ;
Nor luxury's voluptuous boon•
Enerve the vigour of his noon ;
Nor uniformity destroy
The wildness of poetic joy I
Let wanton fancy shift the scene
Congenial to the nl:five vein.
But ah I ye friends to genius dear,
Encourage modesty's career,
Nor let ingratitude of scorn
Blast promise in its blushing morn ;
Nor approbation too profuse
Wake vanity to tame the muse :
But give, ye friends, to genuine merit gi.v°
So much of true desert as bids ambition 11°.

Alas ! and must our nature own •
That merit lives—hut dies unknown.
The cypress binds his burniri,g brow,
Till death the laurel crown bestow.
And was it so in Greece ?—ln Rome ?---*
Yes, Genius, and must be thy doom--
As down thou sail'st the stream of life,
With all its elements at strife ;
And when thy bark is buried deep,
Will envy be the first to weep
Accursed inheritance of worth—
To shame the land that boasts his birth
And glories in his rnem,,ry_
As Spain, Cervantes! joys in thee--
And England, art thou, too, unjust ?
Oh wake not Illilton's—Bu.w. oust;
Whence indignation we.iping turns to thf
Where Scotia's blushing pride Poirits
tomb of Burns •

The + o
catholic clergy of the not them district of Engl°_,liiil
number of deaths amongs. d 0
life have been car . . '
tr:ly • awful. • Within the space of eighteen froioinie
°f en. ty•five priests, most of them in the veryy
,_,,ir
ried away in the mi
labours. •• •tal
A maYria between the Fleredi .
ge ig
Prince of 0
—range and a Princoss of WurtcndWar to
confidently sptlen of in the Dutch Papers, an
official announcement is looked for in a few figs' ,f ft,
AIARSEIAL SOTJLT AND Tiff.; I:si,s
fist of tit..
TROPOLITAN FOLICF.•—The veteran Marshal 5...°:,1,,,1
prior to his recent departure from this country, Ca.,. ~e
a letter, with his Signature attached thereto'
0t'.11,,
forwarded to the Commissioners of the MetroP 'Io
Police at Sc ft land.yard, in which communicationbigt
distinguished foreigner alluded to expressed lII'
_via.
satisfaction at the excellent conduct and good uf 00
of every member of the force, by whorl/ he "_cante
so many occasions, during his sojourn in Lou
in his visits to other places in the environs t
been attended.

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