ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Rev. James Hervey
J. B., "On Mr. Hervey's Theron and Aspasio" London Magazine 27 (August 1758) 422-23.
Rev. James Hervey:
1748: Countess of Hertford
1748: William Shenstone
1749 ca.: Samuel Boyse
1749: R. C.
1749: John Duick
1753: N. N.
1755 ca.: Matilda
1758 ca.: Rev. John Jones
1758: J. B.
1759: Rev. John Ogilvie
1765: C. S.
1773: Samuel Johnson
1783: Rev. Hugh Blair
1811: G. J.
1817: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
1823: Rev. Charles Burton
1828: Leigh Hunt
1726: William Pattison
1758: Rev. James Hervey
1787: Robert Burns
1794: Samuel Rogers
1806: Charlotte Smith
1824: Lord Byron
Tho' Calvin's system long had stood,
Espous'd by many wise and good;
None e'er attempted to explain
Its doctrines, in thy pleasing vein;
The lively page attracts our view,
And all we read, at least seems true;
Convinc'd still fully, as we go,
The pious author thinks them so.
However others may debase,
By wild extremes, th' effects of grace;
Faith and good works concur in thee,
And practice proves thy theory;
(Works counted yet, but worthless dross)
Whose glory's only in the cross:
In that bless'd ransom mortals must,
And great atonement always trust;
The basis laid, with lawful hand,
Firm will the sacred structure stand.
Religion in her native air,
And dress, appears divinely fair;
The pow'r, not the cold form alone,
In charming language here is shewn;
And whilst, in beauteous scenes, your pen
Describes th' Almighty's gifts to men—
This lower world — our hearts you raise,
To willing songs of grateful praise;
Yet still that love which we adore,
Gave, in his son, ten thousand more.
Polemick criticks, if they will,
May write, refine, and boast their skill;
Reject these tenets, and despise
The comforts which from thence arise;
The real christian still remains,
And, silent, marks their learned pains;
No mean pursuits his labours claim,
But endless happiness his aim.
Who heav'n can reach, 'twere hard to say,
If Hervey should not find the way;
And he that gains so rich a prize,
May smile at all beneath the skies.
Well grounded as his hope, be mine,
When I this transient life resign;
Boldly I then might drop the clay,
And stretch for an eternal day;
Nor wish, on earth, one moment's stay.