Thomas Campbell

Leigh Hunt, "Ode to Thomas Campbell, Esq. Author of the Pleasures of Hope" Morning Chronicle (4 February 1801).

O born of her, beneath whose colour'd wings
Sad COLLINS pour'd his wild Notes to the gale,
While PITY'S Dirge wept o'er the sighing Strings,
And every Passion told its thrilling tale!—
How sweet thy Lyre with fairy sound,
The Key of Harmony, can ope
The rose-bound portals that surround
The ever-blooming Bow'r of HOPE!

O skill'd to shed her silent dew
On drooping SORROW'S wither'd Flow'r;
Or, when dark WINTER'S sullen form
Sits frowning in his Tent of Storm,
To smoothe his front's cold wrinkles blue,
And throw a Sunshine on his darkling hour;
Still, for how many a tearful eye
Looks fearful to a future sky,
Where FATE'S veil'd woofs in darkness grow,
Wrapt round with all the storms of Woe,
Still bid it fix its calmer sight
On yon coelestial fields of Day,
Where HOPE with steady finger gay
Points to her Visions of Delight—
Of FRIENDSHIP joining hands with TRUTH;
And LOVE, that blooms eternal Youth;
And VIRTUE, graving on the sky
The lessons that she learnt on high;
And PEACE, with Harp divine
As mild and musical as thine!
O, sing, nor let us feel once more
That RAPTURE'S strains with thine are o'er!
Feb. 1.