VI. 3. Whilst every lip with nectar glow'd, And laughter free o'er plains of ether roll'd : VII. 1. Then rose Vrihaspati, who reigns His periods eloquent heaven loves to hear He told how Taraca with snaky legions, Had menaced long old Meru's golden head, With desolation wild had spread : VII. 2. How, when the gods to Brahma flew The fiend must wield secure his fiery sword, (Thus th' unerring Will ordains) Till from the great Destroyer's pure embraces, Knit in love's mysterious chains With her, who, daughter to the mountain-king, Yon snowy mansion graces, Cumara, warrior child, shall spring; VII. 3. "Who bright in arms of heavenly proof, Nor shall his thundering mace insatiate sleep, VIII. 1. "The splendid host with solemn state Reason'd high in long debate ; Till, through my counsel provident, they claim'd At Indra's wish appear'd the soul's inflamer Engaged (ah, thoughtless!) in the bold emprise And soften Him who shakes the skies. VIII. 2. "See now the God, whom all adored, And toward her widow'd pile with piercing ditty How ill the funeral with the feast agrees! Come, Love's pale sister, Pity: Come, and the lover's wrath appease." Of tossing billows, The forms of animated nature lay; Till o'er the wide abyss, where love Sat like a nestling dove, From heaven's dun concave shot a golden ray. Still brighter and more bright it stream'd, Mother of gods, rich nature's queen, Thou badest the softly-kindling flame Pervade this peopled frame, HYMN TO INDRA. THE ARGUMENT. So many allusions to Hindoo mythology occur in the following Ode, that it would be scarce intelligible with And smiles, with blushes tinged, the work ap-out an explanatory introduction, which, on every acproved. Goddess, around thy radiant throne The scaly shoals in spangled vesture shone, Some slowly, through green waves advancing, Some swiftly glancing, As each thy mild mysterious power impell'd: E'en orcs and river dragons felt Their iron bosoms melt count, and on all occasions, appears preferable to notes in the margin. A distinct idea of the god, whom the poem celebrates, may be collected from a passage in the ninth section of the Gità, where the sudden change of measure has an effect similar to that of the finest modulation: te punyamasadya surendra locam asnanti divyan dividevabhogan, te tam bhuctwa swergalocam visalam cshine punye mertyalocam visanti. With scorching heat; for love the mightiest quell'd. "These having through virtue reached the mansion of But straight ascending vapours rare While, through young Indra's new dominions Mix'd with thy beams a thousand varying dyes, Them yielding, and with music fill'd the skies. And now bedeck'd with sparkling isles Send forth a shaggy brood, who, frisking light Impart their tender cares; All animals to love their kind invite. Nor they alone: those vivid gems, That dance and glitter on their leafy stems, From you tall palm, who like a sunborn king, To those who throng his gate, Where purple chieftains vernal tribute bring. A gale so sweet o'er Ganga breathes, That in soft smiles her graceful cheek she wreaths. On yon Throws fragrance from his flaunting hair, While with his blooming fair fresh Cétaca, whose amorous flower He blends perfume, and multiplies the bower. Thus, in one vast eternal gyre, Of melting tints illudes the visual ray : To sentient forms, that sink again to clay. Ye maids and youths on fruitful plains, Tripping at eve these hallow'd banks along; With many a smiling race shall bless your song. the king of Sura's, feast on the exquisite heavenly food of the gods: they, who have enjoyed this lofty region of Swerga, but whose virtue is exhausted, revisit the habi tation of mortals." Indra, therefore, or the king of Immortals, corres ponds with one of the ancient Jupiters (for several of that name were worshipped in Europe,) and particularly with Jupiter the conductor, whose attributes are so nobly described by the Platonic philosophers; one of his numerous titles is Dyupeti, or, in the nominative case before certain letters, Dyupetir; which means the Lord of Heaven, and seems a more probable origin of the He truscan word than Juvans Pater; as Diespiter was probably, not the father, but the Lord of day. He may be considered as the Jove of Ennius in this memorable line: "Aspice hoc sublime candens, quem invocant omnes Jovem1where the poet clearly means the firmament, of which Indra is the personification. He is the god of thunder and the five elements, with inferior genii under his com mand; and is conceived to govern the eastern quarter of the world, but to preside, like the genius or Agathodæman of the ancients over the celestial bands, which are stationed on the summit of Meru or the north-pole, where he solaces the gods with nectar and heavenly music; hence, perhaps, the Hindoos, who give evidence, and the magistrates, who hear it, are directed to stand fronting the east or the north. This imaginary mount is here feigned to have been seen in a vision at Varanasi, very improperly called Ba naris, which takes its name from two rivulets that embrace the city; and the bard, who was favoured with the sight, is supposed to have been Vyasa, surnamed Dwaipayana, or Dwelling in an Island; who, if he really composed the Gità, makes very flattering mention of himself in the tenth chapter. The plant lata, which he describes weaving a net round the mountain Mandara, is transported by a poetical liberty to Sumeru, which the great author of the Mahabharat has richly painted in four beautiful couplets: it is the generic name for a creeper, though represented here as a species, of which many elegant varieties are found in Asia. The Genii named Cinnarus are the male dancers in Swerga, or the heaven of Indra: and the Apsaras are his dancing-girls, answering to the fairies of the Per sians, and to the damsels called in the Koran hhuru'lûydn, or with antelopes' eyes. For the story of Chitrarat'ha, the chief musician of the Indian paradise, whose painted car was burned by Arjun; and for that of the Chaturdesaretna, or fourteen gems, as they are called, which were produced by churning the ocean: the reader must be referred to Mr. Wilkins's learned annotations on his accurate version of the Bhagavadgità. The fable of the pomegranate flower is borrowed from the popular my. thology of Nepal and Tibet. In this poem the same form of stanza is repeated with variations, on a principle entirely new in modern lyric poetry, which on some future occasion may, be ex plained. THE HYMN. BUT ah! what glories yon blue vault emblaze? Perplex'd the isle-born bard in fiction's maze? Like shooting stars around his regal seat Pursuing, circling, whirling, twining, leading, Till the gay pageant from the sky descends Of coy repulse and mild reluctance talks; From whose fresh laps in young fantastic mazes Bathing the lithe convolvulus, that winds When sapient Brahma this new world approved, Around it roll a thousand sleepless dragons; This feast in memory of the churned wave Now, while each ardent Cinnara persuades Soon, where the bands in lucid rows assemble, Hush'd was every breezy pinion, He sings, how "whilom from the troubled main Narayan's gem, the moonlight's tender languish ; The solemn leech, slow-moving o'er the strand, A vase of long-sought Amrit in his hand. To soften human ills dread Siva drank The poisonous flood, that stain'd his azure neck; The rest thy mansions deck, High Swerga! stored in many a blazing rank. Thou, god of thunder! satt'st on Meru throned, With various praise in odes and hallow'd story The genius rested; for his powerful art He smiled; and, warbling in a softer mode, On pastures dry the maids and herdsmen trod : What furies potent modulation sooths! His lance, half-raised, with listless languor sinks. O pluck (she said) yon gems, which nature To grace my darker tresses.' In form a shepherd's boy, a god in soul, "The reckless peasant, who those glowing flowers, Shackled the god who gave him showers. "Straight from seven winds immortal Genii flew, They with the ruddy flash, that points his thunder, Rend his vain bands asunder. Th' exulting god resumes his thousand eyes, Soft memory retraced the youthful scene; Such was the vision, which-on Varan's breast, And pray'd the thundering power, that sheafy treasures, Mild showers, and vernal pleasures, The labouring youth in mead and vale might cheer, And cherish'd herdsmen bless th' abundant year. Thee, darter of the swift blue bolt! he sang; When through the waves of war thy charger sprang, Each rock rebellow'd and each forest rang, Till vanquish'd Asurs felt avenging pains. Send o'er their seats the snake that never dies, But waft the virtuous to thy skies!" . GEORGE CRABBE. West Allington, in the diocese of Lincoln. In the meantime, in 1785, he published The Newspaper, a poem; followed by a complete edition of his works, in 1807, which were received with marked and universal approbation. In 1810, appeared his admirable poem of The Borough; in 1812, he published his Tales in Verse; and in 1819, his celebrated Tales of the Hall. He had, in the interim, been presented to the rectory of Trowbridge, with the smaller benefice of Croxton Kerryel, in Leicestershire. His only prose publications are a funeral sermon on one of his early noble patrons, Charles, Duke of Rutland, preached in the chapel of Belvoir Castle, in 1789; and An Essay on the Natural History of the Vale of Belvoir, written for Mr. Nichols' History of Leicestershire. Mr. Crabbe died February 3d, 1832, at Trowbridge, the scene of his latest ministrations as a Christian pastor. His parishioners, in grateful re. membrance of his virtues and labours for their im GEORGE CRABBE was born at Aldborough, in | him successively, the living of Frome St. Quintin, Suffolk, on the 24th of December, 1754, where his in Dorsetshire, and the rectories of Muston and father and grandfather were officers of the customs. He received his education at a neighbouring school, where he gained a prize for one of his poems, and left it with sufficient knowledge to qualify him for an apprentice to a surgeon and apothecary in his native town. His poetical taste is said to have been assisted in developing itself by a perusal of all the scraps of verses which his father used to tear off from different newspapers, and which young Crabbe collected together, and got most of them by heart. The attractions of the muse had probably overcome those of Esculapius, for, on the completion of his apprenticeship, giving up all hope of succeeding in his profession, he determined at once to quit it, and to depend for support upon his literary abilities. Accordingly, in 1778, he came to London with little more in his pocket than a bundle of his best poems, and took a lodging in the city, where he read and composed, but could prevail upon no bookseller to publish. At length, in 1780, he ventured to print, at his own expense, a poem, entitled The Candidate, which was favour-provement, caused an elegant monument to be ably noticed in the Monthly Review, to the editor of which it was addressed. Finding, however, that he stood no chance of success or popularity whilst he remained personally unknown, he is said to have introduced himself to Edmund Burke, who received him with great kindness, and read his productions with approbation. Our author fortunately found in this gentleman both a friend and a patron; he took Crabbe into his house, and introduced him to Fox; and, under their united auspices, appeared his poem of the Library, in 1781. In the same year, he was ordained deacon, and in the following one, priest, and, for a short time, acted as curate at Aldborough. About the same period, he entered his name at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, but withdrew it without graduating, although he was subsequently presented with the degree of B. C. L. After residing for some time at Belvoir Castle, as chaplain to the Duke of Rutland, by the recommendation of Mr. Burke, our author was introduced to Lord-chancellor Thurlow, who bestowed upon erected over his grave in the chancel. His cha racter as a man is not less worthy of admiration, than his genius as a poet. His biography, accompanied by a volume of posthumous poetry, have since been published by his son. The works of Crabbe have gone through several editions, and deservedly become popular; Mr. Wilson Croker has justly observed of Crabbe, that his having taken a view of life too minute, too humiliating, and too painfully just, may have rendered his popularity less brilliant than that of some of his contemporaries; though for accurate description, and deep knowledge of human nature, no poet of the present age is equal to him. The great charm of his poetry lies in his masterly treatment of the most ordinary subjects, and in his heart-rending but true descriptions of the scenes which his muse delights to visit,-those of poverty and distress. He depicts nature living and circumstantially; and in this respect, his poetry may justly be compared to the painting of Teniers and Ostade 69 |