Читать книгу The Works of William Cowper - William Cowper - Страница 6

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WRITTEN AT BATH, ON FINDING THE HEEL OF A SHOE, 1748.

Fortune! I thank thee: gentle goddess! thanks!

Not that my Muse, though bashful, shall deny

She would have thank'd thee rather hadst thou cast

A treasure in her way; for neither meed

Of early breakfast, to dispel the fumes

And bowel-racking pains of emptiness,

Nor noon-tide feast, nor evening's cool repast,

Hopes she from this—presumptuous, tho', perhaps,

The cobbler, leather-carving artist, might.

Nathless she thanks thee, and accepts thy boon

Whatever, not as erst the fabled cock,

Vain-glorious fool! unknowing what he found,

Spurn'd the rich gem thou gav'st him. Wherefore ah!

Why not on me that favour (worthier sure)

Conferr'dst thou, goddess? Thou art blind, thou say'st;

Enough—thy blindness shall excuse the deed.

Nor does my Muse no benefit exhale

From this thy scant indulgence!—even here,

Hints, worthy sage philosophy, are found;

Illustrious hints, to moralize my song!

This pond'rous heel of perforated hide

Compact, with pegs indented, many a row,

Haply—for such its massy form bespeaks—

The weighty tread of some rude peasant clown

Upbore: on this supported, oft he stretch'd,

With uncouth strides along the furrow'd glebe,

Flatt'ning the stubborn clod, 'till cruel time,

(What will not cruel time?) on a wry step,

Sever'd the strict cohesion; when, alas!

He who could erst with even, equal pace,

Pursue his destin'd way with symmetry

And some proportion form'd, now, on one side,

Curtail'd and maim'd, the sport of vagrant boys,

Cursing his frail supporter, treacherous prop!

With toilsome steps, and difficult, moves on.

Thus fares it oft with other than the feet

Of humble villager. The statesman thus,

Up the steep road where proud ambition leads,

Aspiring, first uninterrupted winds

His prosp'rous way; nor fears miscarriage foul,

While policy prevails, and friends prove true:

But that support soon failing, by him left

On whom he most depended, basely left,

Betray'd, deserted: from his airy height

Headlong he falls, and, through the rest of life,

Drags the dull load of disappointment on.

Of a youth, who, in a scene like Bath, could produce such a meditation, it might fairly be expected that he would

"In riper life, exempt from public haunt,

Find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

Sermons in stones, and good in every thing."

Though extreme diffidence, and a tendency to despond, seemed early to preclude Cowper from the expectation of climbing to the splendid summit of the profession he had chosen; yet, by the interest of his family, he had prospects of emolument in a line of life that appeared better suited to the modesty of his nature and to his moderate ambition.

In his thirty-first year he was nominated to the offices of Reading Clerk and Clerk of the private Committees in the House of Lords—a situation the more desirable, as such an establishment might enable him to marry early in life; a measure to which he was doubly disposed by judgment and inclination. But the peculiarities of his wonderful mind rendered him unable to support the ordinary duties of his new office; for the idea of reading in public proved a source of torture to his tender and apprehensive spirit. An expedient was devised to promote his interest without wounding his feelings. Resigning his situation of Reading Clerk, he was appointed Clerk of the Journals in the same House of Parliament. Of his occupation, in consequence of this new appointment, he speaks in the following letter to a lady, who will become known and endeared to the reader in proportion to the interest he takes in the writings of Cowper.