Posts tagged ‘1786’

Friday, 8 September 2017

A Receipt to Make a Tragedy by William Hayley

Take a virgin from Asia, from Afric, or Greece,
At least a king’s daughter, or emperor’s niece:
Take an elderly miss for her kind confidante,
Still ready with pity or terror to pant,
While she faints and revives like the sensitive plant:
Take a hero thought buried some ten years or more,
But with life enough left him to rattle and roar;
Take a horrid old brute who deserves to be rack’d,
And call him a tyrant ten times in each act:
Take a priest of cold blood, and a warrior of hot,
And let them alternately bluster and plot:
Then throw in of soldiers and slaves quantum suff.
Let them march, and stand still, fight, and halloo enough.
Now stir all together these separate parts,
And season them well with Ohs! faintings, and starts:
Squeeze in, while they’re stirring, a potent infusion
Of rage, and of horror, of love and illusion;
With madness and murder complete the conclusion.
Let your princess, tho’ dead by the murderous dagger,
In a wanton bold epilogue ogle and swagger:
Prove her past scenes of virtue are vapour and smoke,
And the stage’s morality merely a joke;
Let her tell with what follies our country is curst,
And wisely conclude that play-writing’s the worst.
Now serve to the public this olio complete,
And puff in the papers your delicate treat.

From: Hayley, William, Poems: consisting of odes, sonnets, songs, and occasional verses, 2008, University of Michigan Library: Ann Arbor, Michigan, pp. 47-48.

Date: 1786

By: William Hayley (1745-1820)

Friday, 29 April 2016

An essay on Slavery, with justification to Divine providence, that God Rules over all things by Jupiter Hammon

Our forefathers came from Africa
Tost over the raging main
To a Christian shore there for to stay
And not return again.

Dark and dismal was the Day
When slavery began
All humble thoughts were put away
Then slaves were made by Man.

When God doth please for to permit
That slavery should be
It is our duty to submit
Till Christ shall make us free

Come let us join with one consent
With humble hearts and say
For every sin we must repent
And walk in wisdom’s way.

If we are free we’ll pray to God
If we are slaves the same
It’s firmly fixt in his [holy] word
Ye shall not pray in vain.

Come blessed Jesus in thy Love
And hear thy children cry
And send them smiles now from above
And grant them Liberty.

Tis thou alone can make us free
We are thy subjects too
Pray give us grace to bend a knee
The time we stay below.

Tis unto thee we look for all
Thou art our only King
Thou hast the power to save the soul
And bring us flocking in.

We come as sinners unto thee
We know thou hast the word
Come blessed Jesus make us free
And bring us to our God.

Although we are in Slavery
We will pray unto our God
He hath mercy beyond the sky
Tis in his holy word.

Come unto me ye humble souls
Although you live in strife
I keep alive and save the soul
And give eternal life.

To all that do repent of sin
Be they bond or free
I am their saviour and their king
They must come unto me.

Hear the words now of the Lord
The call is loud and certain
We must be judged by his word
Without respect of person.

Come let us seek his precepts now
And love his holy word
With humble soul we’ll surely bow
And wait the great reward.

Although we came from Africa
We look unto our God
To help our hearts to sigh and pray
And Love his holy word.

Although we are in slavery
Bound by the yoke of Man
We must always have a single eye
And do the best we can.

Come let us join with humble voice
Now on the christian shore
If we will have our only choice
Tis slavery no more.

Now [?] let us not repine
And say his wheels are slow
He can fill our hearts with things divine
And give us freedom too.

He hath the power all in his hand
And all he doth is right
And if we are tide [sic] to the yoke of man
We’ll pray with all might.

This the state of thousands now
Who are on the christian shore
Forget the Lord to whom we bow
And think of him no more.

When shall we hear the joyfull sound
Echo the christian shore
Each humble voice with songs resound
That slavery is no more.

Then shall we rejoice and sing
Loud praises to our God
Come sweet Jesus heavenly king
The art the son Our Lord.

We are thy children blessed Lord
Tho still in slavery
We’ll seek thy precepts Love thy word
Untill the day we Die.

Come blessed Jesus hear us now
And teach our hearts to pray
And seek the Lord to whom we bow
Before tribunal day.

Now glory be unto our God
All praise be justly given
Come seek his precepts love his works
That is the way to Heaven.

Composed by Jupiter Hammon
A Negro Man belonging to Mr John Lloyd
Queens Village on Long Island
November 10th 1786


Date: 1786

By: Jupiter Hammon (1711-before 1806)

Saturday, 5 December 2015

The Black Eagle: A Song by James Fordyce

Hark! yonder Eagle lonely wails:
His faithful bosom grief assails.
Last night I heard him in my dream,
When death and woe were all the theme.
Like that poor Bird I make my moan;
I grieve for dearest Delia gone.
With him to gloomy rocks I fly:
He mourns for love, and so do I.

‘Twas mighty love that tam’d his breast;
‘Tis tender grief that breaks his rest.
He drops his wings, he hangs his head,
Since see he fondly lov’d was dead.
With Delia’s breath my joy expir’d;
‘Twas Delia’s smiles my fancy sir’d.
Like that poor Bird, I pine, and prove
Nought can supply the place of Love.

Dark as his feathers was the fate
That robb’d him of his darling Mate.
Dimm’d is the lustre of his eye,
That wont to gaze the fun-bright sky.
To him is now for ever lost
The heart-felt bliss he once could boast.
Thy sorrows, hapless Bird, display
An image of my soul’s dismay.

From: Fordyce, James, Poems, 1786, T. Cadell: London, pp. 105-106.

Date: 1786

By: James Fordyce (1720-1796)

Monday, 3 August 2015

Passion Uninspired by Sentiment by Charlotte King Byrne Dacre (Rosa Matilda)

Addressed to him who denied their existing together.

Oh! Passion, seducer of heart and of soul!
Thou transport tyrannic! half pleasure, half pain!
Why consum’st thou the breast with such madd’ning controul?
Fly quickly–yet, ah! come as quickly again.

Without thee, what’s life but a wilderness drear,
Or a chill, gloomy vale, where stern apathy reigns?
Like Phoebus, thy vivid refulgence can cheer,
And brighten, in rapture, e’en Memory’s pains.

When pleasure seduces the wild throbbing heart
In moments ecstatic of tender excess,
When Fancy refines, and when Passion takes part,
The lover existence too fondly may bless.

Yet Passion alone, to the delicate mind,
Aspires not a simple sensation above;
Unless sentiment yield it an ardour refin’d,
It degrades, not ennobles the essence of love.

From: Dacre, Charlotte (Rosa Matilda), Hours of Solitude. A Collection of Original Poems, Now First Published in Two Volumes, Volume I, 1805, Hughes: London, pp. 19-20.

Date: c1786

By: Charlotte King Byrne Dacre (Rosa Matilda) (c1771-1825)

Sunday, 5 February 2012

The Watchmaker’s Epitaph by Unknown

Here lies in the horizontal position
The outside case of
George Routleigh, Watchmaker,
Whose abilities in that line were an honour
To his profession:

Integrity was the main-spring,
And prudence the regulator
Of all the actions of his life:
Humane, generous and liberal,
His hand never stopped
Till he had relieved distress;

So nicely regulated were all his movements
That he never went wrong
Except when set-a-going
By people
Who did not know his key;
Even then, he was easily
Set right again:

He had the art of disposing of his time
So well
That his hours glided away
In one continual round
Of pleasure and delight,
Till an unlucky moment put a period to
His existence;

He departed this life
November 14, 1802
Wound up,
In hopes of being taken in hand
By his Maker,
And of being
Thoroughly cleaned, repaired and set-a-going
In the World to come.


Date: 1786 (published)

By: Unknown