THE TOMB of SHAKESPEAR. A VISION.

THE TOMB of SHAKESPEAR . A VISION . By JOHN GILBERT COOPER , Esq ; WHAT time the jocund rosie-bosom'd HOURS Led forth the train of PHOEBUS and the SPRING , And ZEPHYR mild profusely scatter'd flowers On Earth's green mantle from his musky wing , The MORN unbarr'd th' ambrosial gates of light , Westward the raven-pinion'd Darkness flew , The Landscape smil'd in vernal beauty bright , And to their graves the sullen Ghosts withdrew . The nightingale no longer swell'd her throat With love-lorn plainings tremulous and slow , And on the wings of Silence ceas'd to float The gurgling notes of her melodious woe : The God of sleep mysterious visions led In gay procession 'fore the mental eye , And my free'd soul awhile her mansion fled , To try her plumes for immortality . Thro' fields of air , methought , I took my flight , Thro' ev'ry clime , o'er ev'ry region pass'd , No paradise or ruin 'scap'd my sight , HESPERIAN garden , or CIMMERIAN waste . On AVON'S banks I lit , whose streams appear To wind with eddies fond round SHAKESPEAR'S tomb , The year's first feath'ry songsters warble near , And vi'lets breathe , and earliest roses bloom . Here FANCY sat , ( her dewy fingers cold Decking with flow'rets fresh th' unsullied sod , ) And bath'd with tears the sad sepulchral mold , Her fav'rite offspring's long and last abode . Ah ! what avails , she cry'd , a Poet's name ? Ah ! what avails th' immortalizing breath To snatch from dumb Oblivion other's fame ? My darling child here lies a prey to Death ! Let gentle OTWAY , white-rob'd PITY'S priest , From grief domestic teach the tears to flow , Or SOUTHERN captivate th' impassion'd breast With heart-felt sighs and sympathy of woe . For not to these his genius was confin'd , Nature and I each tuneful pow'r had given , Poetic transports of the madding mind , And the wing'd words that waft the soul to heaven : The fiery glance of th' intellectual eye , Piercing all objects of creation's store , Which on this world's extended surface lie ; And plastic thought that still created more . O grant , with eager rapture I reply'd , Grant me , great goddess of the changeful eye , To view each Being in poetic pride , To whom thy son gave immortality . Sweet FANCY smil'd , and wav'd her mystic rod , When strait these visions felt her pow'rful arm , And one by one succeeded at her nod , As vassal sprites obey the wizard's charm . First a celestial form Ariel in the Tempest . ( of azure hue Whose mantle , bound with brede aetherial , flow'd To each soft breeze its balmy breath that drew ) Swift down the sun-beams of the noon-tide rode . Obedient to the necromantic sway Of an old sage to solitude resign'd , With fenny vapors he obscur'd the day , Launch'd the long lightning , and let loose the wind . He whirl'd the tempest thro' the howling air , Rattled the dreadful thunderclap on high , And rais'd a roaring elemental war Betwixt the sea-green waves and azure sky . Then , like heav'n's mild embassador of love To man repentant , bade the tumult cease , Smooth'd the blue bosom of the realms above , And hush'd the rebel elements to peace . Unlike to this in spirit or in mien Another form Caliban in the Tempest . succeeded to my view ; A two-legg'd brute which Nature made in spleen , Or from the loathing womb unfinish'd drew . Scarce cou'd he syllable the curse he thought , Prone were his eyes to earth , his mind to evil , A carnal fiend to imperfection wrought , The mongrel offspring of a Witch and Devil . Next bloom'd , upon an ancient forest's bound , The flow'ry margin Fairy-land from the Midsummer night's dream . of a silent stream , O'er-arch'd by oaks with ivy mantled round , And gilt by silver CYNTHIA'S maiden beam . On the green carpet of th' unbended grass , A dapper train of female fairies play'd , And ey'd their gambols in the watry glass , That smoothly stole along the shad'wy glade . Thro' these the queen TITANIA pass'd ador'd , Mounted aloft in her imperial car , Journeying to see great OBERON her lord Wage the mock battles of a sportive war . Arm'd cap-a-pee forth march'd the fairy king , A stouter warrior never took the field , His threat'ning lance a hornet's horrid sting , The sharded beetle's scale his sable shield . Around their chief the elfin host appear'd , Each little helmet sparkled like a star , And their sharp spears in pierceless phalanx rear'd , A grove of thistles , glitter'd in the air . The scene then chang'd , from this romantic land , To a bleak waste by bound'ry unconfin'd , Where three smart sisters The witches in Macbeth . of the weird band Were mutt'ring curses to the troublous wind . Pale Want had wither'd every furrow'd face , Bow'd was each carcase with the weight of years , And each sunk eye-ball from its hollow case Distill'd cold rheum's involuntary tears . Hors'd on three staves they posted to the bourn Of a drear island , where the pendant brow Of a rough rock , shagg'd horribly with thorn , Frown'd on the boist'rous waves which rag'd below . Deep in a gloomy grot remote from day , Where smiling Comfort never shew'd her face , Where light ne'er enter'd , save one rueful ray Discov'ring all the terrors of the place , They held damn'd myst'ries with infernal state , Whilst ghastly spectres glided slowly by , The scritch-owl scream'd the dying call of fate , And ravens croak'd their baleful augury . No human footstep cheer'd the dread abode , Nor sign of living creature could be seen , Save where the reptile snake , or sullen toad , The murky floor had soil'd with venom green . Sudden I heard the whirlwind's hollow sound , Each weïrd sister vanish'd into smoke . Now a dire yell of spirits Ghosts in Macbeth , Richard III . &c. underground Thro' troubled Earth's wide yawning surface broke ; When lo ! each injur'd apparition rose ; Aghast the murd'rer started from his bed ; Guilt's trembling breath his heart's red current froze , And Horror's dew-drops bath'd his frantic head . More had I seen — but now the God of day O'er earth's broad breast his flood of light had spread , When Morpheus call'd his fickle dreams away , And on their wings each bright illusion fled . Yet still the dear ENCHANTRESS of the brain My waking eyes with wishful wand'rings sought , Whose magic will controuls th' ideal train , The ever-restless progeny of THOUGHT . Sweet pow'r , I said , for others gild the ray Of Wealth , or Honor's folly-feather'd crown , Or lead the madding multitude astray To grasp at air-blown bubbles of renown . Me ( humbler lot ! ) let blameless bliss engage , Free from the noble mob's ambitious strife , Free from the muck-worm miser's lucrous rage , In calm Contentment's cottag'd vale of life . If frailties there ( for who from them is free ? ) Thro' Error's maze my devious footsteps lead , Let them be frailties of humanity , And my heart plead the pardon of my head . Let not my reason impiously require What heav'n has plac'd beyond its narrow span , But teach it to subdue each fierce desire , Which wars within its own small empire , man . Teach me , what all believe , but few possess , That life's best science is ourselves to know , The first of human blessings is to bless , And happiest he who feels another's woe . Thus cheaply wise , and innocently great , While Time's smooth sand shall regularly pass , Each destin'd atom's quiet course I'll wait , Nor rashly break , nor wish to stop the glass . And when in death my peaceful ashes lie , If e'er some tongue congenial speaks my name , Friendship shall never blush to breathe a sigh , And great ones envy such an honest fame .