'Mid the deep horror of that silent bower,* Where the rapt Samian slept his holy slumber? When, free From every earthly chain, From wreaths of pleasure and from bonds of pain, Drank at the source of Nature's fontal number,† Such dreams, so heavenly bright, By the great diadem that twines my hair, * Alluding to the cave near Samos, where Pythagoras devoted the greater part of his days and nights to meditation and the mysteries of his philosophy. Iamblich. de Vit. This, as Holstenius remarks, was in imitation of the Magi. †The tetractys, or sacred number of the Pythagoreans on which they solemnly swore, and which they called you aevas Quosas, "the fountain of perennial nature.", Lucian has ridiculed this religious arithmetic very finely in his Sale of Philosophers. This diadem is intended to represent the analogy between the notes of music and the prismatic colours. See Newton's Opticks, Book 1, Exper. 7. We find in Plutarch a vague intimation of this kindred harmony in colours and sounds. Οψις τε και ακοή, μεντα φωνης τε και φωτος την άρμονιαν επιφοι Mingling their beams In a soft iris of harmonious light, Oh mortal! such ecstatic dreams EPISTLE IV. TO GEORGE MORGAN, ESQ. OF NORFOLK, VIRGINIA.* From Bermuda, January, 1804. Κείνη δ' ηνεμόεσσα και άτροπος οία θ' αλιπληξε THOUGH late the word of friendship came,t Your friend was mine before he read it. Cassiodorus, whose idea I may be supposed to have borrowed, says, in a letter upon music to Boetius, "Ut diadema oculis, varia luce gemmarum, sic cythara diversitate soni, blanditur, auditui." This is indeed the only tolerable thought in the letter. Lib. 2, Variar. * This gentleman is attached to the British consulate at Norfolk. His talents are worthy of a much higher sphere, but Yet, though the social bond was wore, 'Twill consecrate what's-done already! Oh what a tempest whirl'd us hither!‡ the excellent dispositions of the family with whom he resides, and the cordial repose he enjoys amongst some of the kindest hearts in the world, should be almost enough to atone to him for the worst caprices of fortune. The consul himself, Colonel Hamilton, is one among the very few instances of a man ardently loyal to his king, and yet beloved by the Americans. His house is the very temple of hospitality, and I sincerely pity the heart of that stranger who, warm from the welcome of such a board, and with the taste of such Madeira still upon his lips, could sit down to write a libel on his host, in the true spirit of a modern philosophist. See the Travels of the Duke de la Rochefoucault Liancourt, Vol. 2. † A letter of recommendation, which I had omitted to take from Norfolk, and which Mr. Morgan was kind enough to send after me to Bermuda. Its object had been, however, anticipated by my introduction to the person to whom it was addressed. We were seven days on our passage from Norfolk to Bermuda, during three of which we were forced to lay-to in a gale of wind. The Driver sloop of war, in which I went, was built at Bermuda, of cedar, and is accounted an excellent sea-boat. She was then commanded by my very regretted friend Captain Compton, who in July last was killed aboard the Lilly, in an action with a French privateer. Poor Compton! he fell All the light and languid flowers When close they reef'd the timid sail, And ev❜n our haughty mainmast bowed! Propitious came, her dream to shed, For she, the maid I've left behind, One night, I own, the storms it blew a victim to the strange impolicy of allowing such a miserable thing as the Lilly to remain in the service; so small, crank, and unmanageable, that a well-manned merchantman was at any time a match for her. She open'd, with her golden key, Which time has saved from ancient days! I wrote it, while hammock swung, my As one might write a dissertation * SWEETLY you kiss, my Lais dear ! * This epigram is by Paulus Silentiarius, and may be found in the Analecta of Brunck, Vol. 3, p. 72. But, as the reading there is somewhat different from what I have followed in this translation, I shall give it as I had it in my memory at the time, and as it is in Heinsius, who, I believe, first produced the epigram. See his Poëmata. Ήδη μεν εστι φιλημα το Λαίδος, ηδε δε αυτών Η πιοδίνητων δακρυ χεις βλεφάρων, Και πολυ κιχλίζεσα τάξεις ευβοστρυχον αιγλην, Μυρομενην δ' εφίλησα τα δ ̓ ὡς δροσερης απο πηγής, Δάκρυα μιγνυμένων πιπτε κατα στοματων Δείδια μη με λιπης• εστε γαρ ορκαπαταί. |