Constitutional Whig. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1824-1832, 1824-12-24
POETRY.
From the .Ncc- York .4mcrican.
PAINS OF IMAGINATION.

From the .Nctc-f0Tk .1Mcrtcdn.
PAINS OF IMAGINATION.
We have just read, with common interest,
poem under this title, recited at the last meet
meeting of the Phi Beta Kappa Society ofDart-
mouth College, 1t is from the pen Of MIR. Car
ter, one If the editors of the Statesman, and is
strongly marked with the pure taste, and pensive,
aud almost melancholy turn of mind that cha
racterises that gentleman. Ii is, as will be at
once imagined, sort of pendant to Akenside's
ssPleasures of Imagination" and follows, with
no unequal steps, in the same path. In making
the following extracts, by which our readers
will be enabled to Judge of the business of our
praise, we have rather been guided by refe-
renee to the peculiar topics, than by any pur-
pose TO select them, superior to other passages
in the poem.
The first passage refers, as will be perceived
to the s'chequered scenes" of life.
What contradictions in our being jar,
Mysterious contrasts, elemental war!
The soul ethereal, image of its God,
Chained to the grossness of an earthly clod;
Powers that to glory IS heights aerial climb,
Spurn at control, and conquer space and time,
Blended with weakness, which degrades the man
To chldhood's wants, and mocks each generous
plan;
Frailtics that cloud the bright celestial spark,
And leave its prison cherries, bleak, and dark;
Passions for high and god-like objects born,
Or prone to bascness, infamy, and scorn;
Affections pure as seraph bosoms swell,
Or fierce as rend the raging fends Of hell.
X
The following lines will find responsive feel
ings in every bosom-tho' few, probably, could
have given utterance to them in the same plain
tive elegance.
Oh! who hath not, in melancholy mood,
Musing at eve, in some sequestered wood,
Or where the torrents foaming waters pour,
Or oceans pillows murmur on the shore;-
On! who hath not, in such moment, gard,
AS heavens bright hosts in cloudless glory blazd,
And felt a sadness steal upon his heart,
To think that he with this fair must part!
That while those pillows leave, those waters flow,
Those garnished skies refulgcnt still shall glow,
He, that once watch ID them, shall have passd away
His name forgot his ashes blent with clay,
Unlike those glitterng orbs those quenchless fires,
ordaind to roll, till time itself expires!
After describing the various horrors of an
hereafter, which superstition has created and
fancy magnified, the poet makes this just and
moral refexion.
These, and the thousand woes, by heather crceds
Ordaind III punishment of guilty deeds,
Are but the shadows genius has design'd,
To paint the hell which lives within the mind.
Then comes, after glowing invocation to
Greece, this fine address to the shade of Byron.
Shade ofdeparted genius! canI turn
Byron. sad illustration of my theme!
Haunted and curst by fancys wdering dream;
With talents, learning, fortune, honours, blest,
The idol of the world, and yet its jest;
peer, vagrant; husband without wife;
Lord of estates, houseess bald for life;
Pride of thy friends, and of thy native land,
wandering exile on foreign strand;
For greatness, usefulness, and glory born,
First winning wreaths, thentramplmg them in scorn;
The friend of freedom, generous bold, and brave,
m NM hinge ounf ord ,14
Peace TO thy shade! thy troubled dreams are DER:
The world shall praise, condemn, admire 10 more
The transition from scene and cause like
these naturally lead the poet to expatiate on the
blessings of freedom, when his mind is suddenly
crossed by the hideous spectre of negro slavery
Hayk! in the murmurs of the southern gale
Breaks on the the negro's hollow wall
hear the drivers lash, the dismal clank
OF chains resound along Missouris bank,
As on he hastens to the sable fold
His herd of victims to be bought and sold;
j see the slave, in mind, in soul akin,
In all beside the tincture of the skin,
Doomd, like the brute, to turn the arid soil
In hopeless thankless, unrequited toll:
I see him, weary, at the beat-pf drum,
His only curfew, hurried to his home,
TO find in dreams, upon his bed of straw,
land Of right, OF liberty, aud law!
Remorseless servtude, of ills the worst
OF crimes the deepest with which earth is curst,
Let the kind master mngle as ne will
The bitter chalice, it is slavefSstill
The hand of mercy cannot putk the thorn
That arms the pillow of the wretch forlorn
Nor bland philanthrophy assuage the pain,
OF dry the tear, of him who wears chain
Shame On progcnitors, whose crimes entaId
blot, curse, their children have bewail'd,
Shame that one man, who breathes the inspiring air
OF freedom, and who tastes her boom should dare
To lift his voice, the advocate of wroup
And seek, from Sordid pretcxts, TO Droloup
This stain upon country, great and free
Glorious III arts and arms, the home Of Liberty!
X
This piece concludes, as shall our comments
and extracts, with an address to the scenes of
early youth, to the academic groves, and ..ciassjc
bowers" which all who have advanced some
what into this troubled world live over again in
memory, with unceasing delight.
Ye rural walks, ye hills, scquesered plades.
Ye haunted streams, and consccrated shades
Groves halow'd by the muse, aud classic bowers
Scenes of my early, and my happiest hours,
FAREWELL to me your unalloycd delights,
Those days Of study, and those attic nights,
Philosophy and science, ancien, lore,
And VISIONS lessons shall return no motel
One bright reflection gilds the parting tear,
That still the chosen few shall luger here
Still DER the Muses. vestal rites preside,
In genius, friendship, high pursuits allied;
Maintain our brotherhood with generous aim
Aud guard our ALPHAs and our ALMA's fame
EStraetf from letter from a Midshipman on board