The Massachusetts spy, and Worcester County advertiser. [volume] ([Worcester, Mass.]) 1825-1831, 1827-12-12
2soetrp.
THEME FOR A POET.
BY J. MONTGOMERY.

BY j. MONTGcMEhE.
The arrow that shall lay me low
Was shot from Deaths uncrring bow
The moment of my breath
And every footstep proceed,
1t tracks me with increasing speed Z
j turn, it meets me Death
Has given such impulse TO that dart,
II points forever at my heart.
And soon of me it must be said,
That | have liv'd. that | am dead
OF all leave behind,
A few may weep little while,
Then bless my memory with q smile;
What monument of mind
Shall bcqaeath to deathless fame,
That after times may love my Nance
Let Southcy sing Of wars alarms,
The pride of battle, din OF arms,
The glory and the guilt
OF nations barb'rously enslav'd,
Ofrealms by patriot valor savd,
OF blood intensely split,
And millions sacrificed to fate,
To make one little mortal great
Let Scott, in wilder strains, delight
To chant the Lady and the Knight,
The tournament, the chace.
The wizards deed without name,
Perils by ambush, flood and fame
Or picturcsquely trace
The hills that form world on high,
The lake that seems a downward sky
Let Byron, with untrembing hand,
lmpetuous foot and fiery brand,
Lit at the flames of he'll,
Go down and search the human heart,
Till fends from every corner start,
Their crimes and plaques to tell;
9hen let him fling the torch away,
And sun his soul in heaven pure day.
Let Wordsworth weave, in mystic rhyme,
Feelings inefiaby Sublime,
And sympathies unknown;
Yet so our yielding breasts enthral
Has genius shall possess US all,
His thoughts become our own,
And, strangely pleas'd, we start to find
Such hidden treasures in or mind.
Let Campbell's sweeter numbers flow
Through every change of Joy and wo,
Hopes morning dreams display,
The Pennsylvania cottage wild,
The frenzy of O'Conner's child,
OF Lindens dreadful day
And still in each new form appear
To every Muse and Grace more dear.
Transcendent masters of the Tyre
Not to your honors | aspire
Humber, yet higher views
have touch'd my spirit into fame;
The pomp of fiction | disclaim;
Fair Truth! be thou M muse;
Reveal in splendor deeds obscure,
Abase the proud, exalt the poor
sing the men who left their home,
Amidst barbarian hordes TO roam,
Who land and ocean cross'd,
Lead by load star, maIk'd on high,
By Faiths unseen, all-sceing eye
To seek and save the lost;
Where'r the curse Of Adam spread.
To call his offspring from the dead.
Strong in the great Redeemer's name,
They bore the cross, despis'd the shame /;
And, like their Master here,
Wrestled with danger, pain, distress,
Hunger, and cold, and na5edness.
And every form of fear
To feel his love their only Joy,
To tell that love their sole employ.
0 thou, who vast in Bethlehem born,
The man of sorrows and of scorn,
Jesus, the sinners friend
O thou, enthron'd in flial right,
Above all creature-power and might
Whose kingdom shall extend
Viii earth, like heaven, thy name shall fill,
And men, like angels, do thy will.
Thou whom love, but cannot see,
My Lord, my God look down on me;
My low affections raise
The spirit of liberty impa.t,
Enlarge my soul, infame my heart;
And, while spread thy praise,
Shine on my path, in mercy shine,
Prosper my work and make it thine.