Page images

One universal blot : such the fair power

Of dew evaporate brushes from the plain. Of light, to kindle and create the whole.

How clear the cloudless sky! how deeply ting'd Drear is the state of the benighted wretch,

With a peculiar blue ! th' ethereal arch Who then, bewilder'd, wanders through the dark, How swell'd immense ! amid whose azure thron': Full of pale fancies, and chimeras huge;

The radiant Sun how gay! how calm below Nor visited by one directive ray,

The gilded Earth! the harvest-treasures all From cottage streaming, or from airy hall.

Now gather'd in, beyond the rage of storms, Perhaps, impatient as he stumbles on,

Sure to the swain ; the circling fence shut up; Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue,

And instant Winter's utmost rage defy'd. The wild-fire scatters round, or gather'd trails While, loose to festive joy, the country round A length of fame deceitful o'er the moss :

Laughs with the loud sincerity of mirth, Whither decoy'd by the fantastic blaze,

Shook to the wind their cares. The toil-strung youth, Now lost, and now renew'd, he sinks absorpt, By the quick sense of music taught alone, Rider and horse, amid the miry gulph :

Leaps wildly graceful in the lively dance. While still, from day to day, his pining wife Her every charm abroad, the village-toast, And plaintive children his return await,

Young, buxom, warm, in native beauty rich, In wild conjecture lost. At other times,

Darts not unmeaning looks; and, where her eye Sent by the better genius of the night,

Points an approving smile, with double force Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane,

The cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines. The meteor sits; and shows the narrow path, Age, too, shines out; and, garrulous, recounts That winding leads through pits of death, or else The feats of youth. Thus they rejoice ; nor think Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford. That, with to-morrow's Sun, their annual toil

The lengthen'd night elaps'd, the Morning shines Begins again the never-ceasing round. Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright,

Oh, knew he but his happiness, of men Unfolding fair the last autumnal day.

The happiest he! who, far from public rage And now the mounting Sun dispels the fog ; Deep in the vale, with a choice few retir’d, The rigid hoar-frost melts before his beam; Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life. (gate, And hung on every spray, on every blade

What though the dome be wanting, whose proad Of grass, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round. Each morning, vomits out the sneaking crowd

Ah, see, where robb’d, and murder'd, in that pit of flatterers false, and in their turn abus'd ? Lies the still heaving hive ! at evening snatch'd, Vile intercourse! What though the glittering robe, Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, Of every hue reflected light can give, And fix'd o'er sulphur : while, not dreaming ill, Or floating loose, or stiff with mazy gold, The happy people, in their waxen cells,

The pride and gaze of fools ! oppress him not? Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes What though, from utmost land and sea purvey'd, Of temperance, for Winter poor ; rejoic'd

For him each rarer tributary life To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores. Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends; With luxury and death? What though his bowl And, us’d to milder scents, the tender race, Flames not with costly juice : nor sunk in beds, By thousands, tumble from their honey'd domes, Oft of gay care, he tosses out the night, Convolv'd, and agonizing in the dust.

Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state? And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring, What though he knows not those fantastic joys Intent from flower to flower? for this you toil'd That still amuse the wanton, still deceive; Ceaseless the burning Summer-heats away? A face of pleasure, but a heart of pain ; For this in Autumn search'd the blooming waste, Their hollow moments undelighted all ? Nor lost one sunny gleam? for this sad fate ? Sure peace is his ; a solid life, estrang's O, man! tyrannic lord ! how long, how long, To disappointment, and fallacious hope: Shall prostrate Nature groan beneath your rage, Rich in content, in Nature's bounty rich, Awaiting renovation ? When oblig'd,

In herbs and fruits; whatever greens the Spring, Must you destroy? Of their ambrosial food When Heaven descends in showers; or bends the Can you not borrow; and, in just return,

bough Afford them shelter from the wintery winds ? When Summer reddens, and when Autumn beams; Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own Or in the wintery glebe whatever lies Again regale them on some smiling day?

Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap : See where the stony bottom of their town

These are not wanting; nor the milky drove, Looks desolate, and wild ; with here and there Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale; A helpless number, who the ruin'd state

Nor bleating mountains ; nor the chide of streams, Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. And hum of bees, inviting sleep sincere Thus a proud city, populous and rich,

Into the guiltless breast, beneath the shade, Full of the works of peace, and high in joy, Or thrown at large amid the fragrant bay; At theatre or feast, or sunk in sleep,

Nor aught besides of prospect, grove, or song, (As late, Palermo, was thy fate!) is seiz'd

Dim grottoes, gleaming lakes, and fountains clear. By some dread earthquake, and convulsive hurl'd Here, too, dwells simple truth; plain innocence; Sheer from the black foundation, stench-involv'd, Unsullied beauty ; sound unbroken youth, Into a gulph of blue sulphureous flame.

Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd; Hence every harsher sight! for now the day, Health ever blooming ; unambitious toil ; O'er Heaven and Earth diffus'd, grows warm, and Calm contemplation, and poetic ease. high,

Let others brave the flood in quest of gain, Infinite splendour ! wide investing all.

And beat, for joyless months, the gloomy wave. How still the breeze! save what the filmy threads Let such as deem it glory to destroy,

Rush into blood, the sack of cities seek;

Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt, Unpierc'd, exulting in the widow's wail,

When angels dwelt, and God himself, with man! The virgin's shriek, and infant's trembling cry. Oh, Nature ! all-sufficient ! over all ! Let some, far distant from their native soil, Enrich me with the knowledge of thy works! Urg'd or by want or harden'd avarice,

Snatch me to Heaven ; thy rolling wonder there, Find other lands beneath another Sun.

World beyond world, in infinite extent, Let this through cities work his eager way, Profusely scatter'd o'er the blue immense, By regal outrage and establish'd guile,

Show me; their motions, periods, and their laws, The social sense extinct; and that ferment

Give me to scan ; through the disclosing deep Mad into tumult the seditious herd,

Light my blind way; the mineral strata there; Or melt them down to slavery. Let these

Thrust, blooming, thence the vegetable world; Insnare the wretched in the toils of law,

O'er that the rising system, more complex, Fomenting discord, and perplexing right,

Of animals; and higher still, the mind, An iron race! and those of fairer front,

The varied scene of quick-compounded thought, But equal inhumanity, in courts,

And where the mixing passions endless shift; Delusive pomp, and dark cabals delight;

These ever open to my ravish'd eye;
Wreathe the deep bow, diffuse the lying smile, A search, the flight of time can ne'er exhaust!
And tread the weary labyrinth of state.

But if to that unequal ; if the blood,
While he, from all the stormy passions free In sluggish streams about my heart, forbid
That restless men involve, hears, and but hears, That best ambition ; under closing shades,
At distance safe, the human tempest roar,

Inglorious, lay me by the lowly brook, Wrapt close in conscious peace. The fall of kings, And whisper to my dreams. From thee begin, The rage of nations, and the crush of states, Dwell all on thee, with thee conclu niy song ; Move not the man, who, from the world escap'd, And let me never, never stray from thee! 'n still retreats, and flowery solitudes, lo Nature's voice attends, from month to month, and day to day, through the revolving year ;

WINTER. 1726.
Idmiring sees her in her every shape;
Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart;

Argument. lakes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more. de, when young Spring protrudes the bursting The subject proposed. Address to the Earl of gems,

Wilmington. First approach of Winter. AcMarks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale cording to the natural course of the Season, nito his freshen'd soul; her genial hours

various storms described. Rain. Wind. Snow. le full enjoys; and not a beauty blows,

The driving of the snows: a man perishing and not an opening blossom breathes in vain. among them; whence reflections on the wants n Summer he, beneath the living shade,

and miseries of human life. The wolves desuch as o'er frigid Tempé wont to wave,

scending from the Alps and Appenines. А Dr Hemus cool, reads what the Muse, of these, winter evening described : as spent by philoPerhaps, has in immortal numbers sung ;

sophers; by the country people; in the city. Dr what she dictates writes: and oft, an eye

Frust. A view of Winter within the polar circle. ihot round, rejoices in the vigorous year.

A thaw. The whole concluding with moral reWhen Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world,

flections on a future state. Ind tempts the sickled swain into the field, leiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends See, Winter comes, to rule the varied yeai, Vith gentle throws ; and through the tepid glearns Sullen and sad, with all his rising train, [theme! Deep musing, then he best exerts his song. Vapours, and clouds, and storms.

Be these my S'en Winter, wild to him, is full of bliss.

These! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, she mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms! ibrupt, and deep, stretch'd o'er the buried earth, Congenial horrours, hail! with frequent foot, I wake to solemn thought. At night the skies, Pleas'd have I, in my cheerful morn of life Disclos'd, and kindled, by refining frost,

When nurs'd by careiess solitude I liv'd, Pours every lustre on th' exalted eye.

And sung of Nature with unceasing joy, A friend, a book, the stealing hours secure, Pleas'd have I wander'd through your rough domain; And mark them down for wisdom. With swift wing, Trod the pure virgin-snows, myself as pure; D'er land and sea imagination roams;

Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burst; Or truth, divinely breaking on his mind,

Or seen the deep fermenting tempest brew'd Elates his being, and unfolds his powers ;

In the grim evening sky. Thus pass'd the time, Or in his breast heroic virtue burns.

Till through the lucid chambers of the south The touch of kindred too and love he feels; Look'd out the joyous Spring, look'd out, and smil'd. The modest eye, whose beams on his alone

To thee, the patron of her first essay, Ecstatic shine; the little strong embrace

The Muse, O Wilmington ! renews her song. Of prattling children, twin'd around his neck, Since has she rounded the revolving year : And emulous to please him, calling forth

Skimm’d the gay Spring ; on eagle-pinions borne, The fond paternal soul. Nor purpose gay,

Attempted through the Summer-blaze to rise ; Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly scorns; Then swept o'er Autumn with the shadowy gale; For happiness and true philosophy

And now among the Wintery clouds again, Are of the social still, and smiling kind.

Roll'd in the doubling storm, she tries to soar ; This is the life which those who fret in guilt, To swell her note with all the rushing winds; And guilty cities, never knew; the life,

To suit her sounding cadence to the foods;

As is her theme, her numbers wildly great : Resistless, roaring, dreadful, down it comes,
Thrice happy! could she fill thy judging ear From the rude mountain, and the mossy wild,
With bold description, and with manly thought. Tumbling through rocks abrupt, and sounding fu;
Nor art thou skill'd in aweful schemes alone, Then o'er the sanded valley floating spreads,
And how to make a mighty people thrive :

Calm, sluggish, silent; till again, constrain'd But equal goodness, sound integrity,

Between two meeting hills, it bursts away, A firm, unshaken, uncorrupted soul

Where rocks and woods o'erhang the turbid stream; Amid a sliding age, and burning strong,

There, gathering triple force, rapid and deep, Not vainly blazing for thy country's weal, It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunder A steady spirit regularly free;

through These, each exalting each, the statesman light Nature! great parent! whose unceasing hand Into the patriot; these, the public hope

Rolls round the seasons of the changeful year, And eye to thee converting, bid the Muse How mighty, how majestic, are thy works! Record what envy dares not flattery call.

With what a pleasing dread they swell the soul! Now when the cheerless empire of the sky That sees astonish'd! and astonish'd sings! To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields,

Ye too, ye winds ! that now begin to blow, And fierce Aquarius stains th' inverted year ; With boisterous sweep, I raise my voice to you Hung o'er the farthest verge of Heaven, the Sun Where are your stores, ye powerful beings! say, Scarce spreads through ether the dejected day. Where your aërial magazines reserv'd, Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot To swell the brooding terrours of the storm? His struggling rays, in horizontal lines,

In what far distant region of the sky, Through the thick air; as, cloth'd in cloudy storm, Hush'd in deep silence, sleep ye when 'tis calm? Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky; When from the pallid sky the Sun descends, And, soon descending, to the long dark night, With many a spot, that o'er his glaring orb Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns. Uncertain wanders, stain'd; red fiery streaks Nor is the night unwish'd; while vital heat, Begin to flush around. The reeling clouds Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forsake. Stagger with dizzy poise, as doubting yet Meantime, in sable cincture, shadows vast,

Which master to obey : while rising slow, Deep-ting'd and damp, and congregated clouds, Blank, in the leaden-colour'd east, the Moon And all the vapoury turbulence of Heaven,

Wears a wan circle round her blunted horns Involve the face of things. Thus Winter falls Seen through the turbid fluctuating air, A heavy gloom oppressive o'er the world,

The stars obtuse emit a shiver'd ray; Through Nature shedding influence malign, Or frequent seen to shoot athwart the gloom, And rouses up the seeds of dark disease.

And long behind them trail the whitening blare. The soul of man dies in him, loathing life, Snatch'd in short eddies, plays the wither'd leaf; And black with more than melancholy views. And on the flood the dancing feather floats. The cattle droop; and o'er the furrow'd land, With broaden'd nostrils to the sky up-turn'd, Fresh from the ploughi, the dun discolour'd flocks, The conscious heifer snuffs the stormy gale. Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root. Ev'n as the matron, at her nightly task, Along the woods, along the moorish fens, With pensive labour draws the flaxen thread, Sighs the sad Genius of the coming storm; The wasted taper and the crackling flame *And up among the loose disjointed cliffs,

Foretell the blast. But chief the plumy race, And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawling brook The tenants of the sky, its changes speak. And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, Retiring from the downs, where all day long Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear. They pick’d their scanty fare, a blackening train

Then comes the father of the tempest forth, Of clamorous rooks thick urge their weary fligt.. Wrapt in black glooms. First joyless rains obscure And seek the closing shelter of the grove; Drive through the mingling skies with vapour foul; Assiduous, in his bower, the wailing owl Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the woods, Plies his sad song. The cormorant on high That grumbling wave below. Th' unsightly plain Wheels from the deep, and screams along the land Lies a brown deluge, as the low-bent clouds Loud shrieks the soaring hern; and with wild wing Pour flood on flood, yet unexhausted still

The circling sea-fowl cleave the flaky clouds Combine, and deepening into night, shut up Ocean, unequal press'd, with broken tide The day's fair face. The wanderers of Heaven, And blind commotion heaves ; while from the share. Each to his home, retire; save those that love Eat into caverns by the restless wave, To take their pastime in the troubled air,

And forest-rustling mountains, comes a voice, Or skimming Autter round the dimply pool. That solemn sounding bids the world prepare. The cattle from th' untasted fields return,

Then issues forth the storm with sudden burst, And ask, with meaning low, their wonted stalls, And hurls the whole precipitated air, Or ruminate in the contiguous shade.

Down, in a torrent. On the passive main Thither the household feathery people crowd, Descends th' ethereal force, and with strong gust The crested cock, with all his female train, Turns from its bottom the discolour'd deep. Pensive, and dripping; while the cottage hind Through the black night that sits immense around, Hangs o'er th' enlivening blaze, and taleful there Lash'd into foam, the fierce conflicting brine Recounts his simple frolic: much he talks, Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn. And much he laughs, nor recks the storm that blows Meantime the mountain-billows to the clouds Without, and rattles on his humble roof.

In dreadful tumult swell’d, surge above surge, Wide o'er the brim, with many a torrent swell’d, Burst into chaos with tremendous roar, And the mix'd ruin of its banks o'erspread, And anchor'd navies from their stations drive, At last the rous'd-up river pours along :

Wild as the winds across the howling waste

Of mighty waters: now th' inflated wave

'Tis brightness all; save where the new snow melts Straining they scale, and now impetuous shoot Along the mazy current. Low the woods Into the secret chambers of the deep,

Bow their hoar head ; and, ere the languid Sun The wintery Baltic thundering o'er their head. Faint from the west emits his evening ray, Emerging thence again, before the breath

Earth's universal face, deep hid, and chill, Of full-exerted Heaven they wing their course, Is one wide dazzling waste, that buries wide And dart on distant coasts; if some sharp rock, The works of man. Drooping, the labourer-ox Or shoal insidious break not their career,

Stands cover'd o'er with snow, and then demands And in loose fragments fing them floating round. The fruit of all his toil. The fowls of Heaven, Nor less at land the loosen'd tempest reigns. Tam'd by the cruel season, crowd around The mountain thunders; and its sturdy sons The winnowing store, and claim the little boon Stoop to the bottom of the rocks they shade. Which Providence assigns them. One alone, Lone on the midnight steep, and all aghast, The red-breast, sacred to the household gods, The dark way-faring stranger breathless toils, Wisely regardful of th' embroiling sky, And, often falling, climbs against the blast. In joyless fields, and thorny thickets, leaves Low waves the rooted forest, vex'd, and sheds His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain ;

His annual visit. Half-afraid, he first Daslı'd down, and scatter'd, by the tearing wind's Against the window beats ; then, brisk, alights Assiduous fury, its gigantic limbs.

On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor, Ihus struggling through the dissipated grove, Eyes all the smiling family askance, T'he whirling tempest raves along the plain; And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is : And on the cottage thatch'd, or lordly roof, Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs Leen-fastening, shakes them to the solid base. Attract his slender feet. The foodless wilds ileep frighted flies; and round the rocking dome, Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The hare, Por entrance eager, howls the savage blast. Though timorous of heart, and hard beset Then too, they say, through all the burden'd air, By death in various forms, dark snares, and dogs, ong groans are heard, shrill sounds, and distant And more unpitying men, the garden seeks, sighs,

Urg'd on by fearless want. The bleating kind hat, utter'd by the demon of the night,

Eye the bleak Heaven, and next the glistening Varn the devoted wretch of woe and death.

Earth, Huge uproar lords it wide. The clouds, commixt With looks of dumb despair ; then, sad-dispers’d, Vith stars swift gliding, sweep along the sky. Dig for the wither'd herb through heaps of snow. 1) Nature reels: till Nature's King, who oft Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind : mid tempestuous darkness dwells alone, Baffle the raging year, and fill their penns und on the wings of the careering wind

With food at will; lodge them below the storm, Zalks dreadfully serene, commands a calm; And watch them strict: for from the bellowing East, hen strait, air, sea, and earth, are hush'd at once. In this dire season, oft the whirlwind's wing As yet ’tis midnight deep. The weary clouds Sweeps up the burthen of whole wintery plains ow-meeting, mingle into solid gloom.

At one wide waft, and o'er the hapless flocks, ow, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleep, Hid in the hollow of two neighbouring hills, et me associate with the serious Night,

The billowy tempest whelms; till, upward urg'd, nd Contemplation, her sedate com peer ;

The valley to a shining mountain swells, et me shake off th' intrusive cares of day, Tipt with a wreath high-curling in the sky. nd lay the meddling senses all aside.

As thus the snows arise; and foul, and fierce, Where now, ye lying vanities of life!

All Winter drives along the darken'd air ; : ever-tempting, ever-cheating train!

In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain here are you now? and what is your amount ? Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend, exation, disappointment, and remorse.

Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes, d, sickening thought! and yet deluded man, Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain : scene of crude disjointed visions past,

Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid od broken slumbers, rises still resolv'd,

Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on ith new-flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round. From hill to dale, still more and more astray ; Father of light and life ! thou good Supreme ! Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps,

teach me what is good ! teach me Thyself! Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of ve me from folly, vanity, and vice,

home om every low pursuit ! and feed my soul Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth ith knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure; In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul! cred, substantial, never-fading bliss !

What black despair, what horrour, fills his heart! The keener tempests rise : and, fuming dun When for the dusky spot, which fancy feign'd rom all the livid east, or piercing north,

His tufted cottage rising through the snow, rick clouds ascend; in whose capacious womb He meets the roughness of the middle waste, vapoury deluge lies, to snow congeal'd.

Far from the track, and blest abode of man; eavy they roll their fleecy world along;

While round him night resistless closes fast, nd the sky saddens with the gather'd storm. And every tempest, howling o'er his head, hrough the hushid air the whitening shower Renders the savage wilderness more wild. descends,

Then throng the busy shapes into his mind, i first thin wavering; till at last the flakes Of cover'd pits, unfathomably deep, all broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day A dire descent! beyond the power of frost ; Yith a continual flow. The cherish'd fields Of faithless bogs; of precipices huge,

krown, ut on their winter-robe of purest white.

Smooth'd up with snow; and, what is land, un

What water of the still unfrozen spring,

Ev'n robb’d them of the last of comforts, sleep: In the loose marsh or solitary lake,

The free-born Briton to the dungeon chain'd, Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils. Or, as the lust of cruelty prevailid, These check his fearful steps ; and down he sinks At pleasure mark'd him with inglorious stripes: Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift,

And crush'd out lives, by secret barbarous ways, Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death,

That for their country would have toil'd, or blad. Mix'd with the tender anguish Nature shoots O, great design! if executed well, Through the wrung bosom of the dying man, With patient care, and wisdom-temper'd zeal His wife, his children, and his friends unseen. Ye sons of mercy! yet resume the search; In vain for him th' officious wife prepares

Drag forth the legal monsters into light, The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm; Wrench from their hands oppression's iron rod, In vain his little children, peeping out

And bid the cruel feel the pains they give. Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, Much still untouch'd remains ; in this rank age, With tears of artless innocence. Alas!

Much is the patriot's weeding hand requir'd. Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, The toils of law, (what dark insidious men Nor friends, nor sacred home. On every nerve Have cumberous added to perplex the truth, The deadly Winter seizes ; shuts up sense ; And lengthen simple justice into trade,) And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold,

How glorious were the day that saw these broke, Lays him along the snows, a stiffen'd corse, And every man within the reach of right!

Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern blast. + By wintery famine rous'd, from all the tract * Ah ! little think the gay licentious proud, Of horrid mountains, which the shining Alps

Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; And wavy Appenine, and Pyrenees,
They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, Branch out stupendous into distant lands;
And wanton, often cruel, riot waste;

Cruel as Death, and hungry as the Grave!
Ah! little think they, while they dance along, Burning for blood ! bony, and gaunt, and grim!
How many feel, this very moment, death Assembling wolves in raging troops descend;
And all the sad variety of pain.

And, pouring o'er the country, bear along, How many sink in the devouring flood,

Keen as the north wind sweeps the glossy snow, Or more devouring flame. How many bleed, All is their prize. They fasten on the steed, By shameful variance betwixt man and man. Press him to earth, and pierce his mighty heart. How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms; Nor can the bull his aweful front defend, Shut from the common air, and common use Or shake the murdering savages away. Of their own limbs. How many drink the cup Rapacious, at the mother's throat they fiy, Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread

And tear the screaming infant from her breast. Of misery. Sore pierc'd by wintery winds, The godlike face of man avails him nought. How many shrink into the sordid hut

Ev'n Beauty, force divine ! at whose bright gler: Of cheerless poverty. How many shake

The generous lion stands in soften'd gaze, With all the fiercer tortures of the mind,

Here bleeds, a hapless undistinguish'd prey. Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse; But if, appriz'd of the severe attack, Whence tumbled headlong from the height of life, The country be shut up, lur'd by the scent, They furnish matter for the tragic Muse.

On church-yards drear (inhuman to relate !) Ev’n in the vale, where Wisdom loves to dwell The disappointed prowlers fall, and dig With Friendship, Peace, and Contemplation join'd, The shrouded body from the grave ; o'er which, How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop Mix'd with foul shades, and frighted ghosts, they In deep retir'd distress. How many stand

howl. Around the death-bed of their dearest friends, Among those hilly regions, where ernbrae'd And point the parting anguish. Thought fond man in peaceful vales the happy Grisons dwell, Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills, Oft, rushing sudden from the loaded cliffs, That one incessant struggle render life,

Mountains of snow their gathering terrours roll One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate, From steep to steep, loud-thundering down they Vice in his high career would stand appallid,

come, And heedless rambling Impulse learn to think ; A wintery waste in dire commotion all; The conscious heart of Charity would warm, And herds, and flocks, and travellers, and swains And lier wide wish Benevolence dilate ;

And sometimes whole brigades of marching troops The social tear would rise, the social sigh;

Or hamlets sleeping in the dead of night, And into clear perfection, gradual bliss,

Are deep beneath the smothering ruin whelm'd Refining still, the social passions work.

Now all amid the rigours of the year,
And here can I forget the generous band", In the wild depth of Winter, while without
Who, touch'd with human woe, redressive search'd The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat,
Into the horrours of the gloomy jail ?

Between the groaning forest and the shore
Unpitied, and unheard, where misery moans ; Beat by the boundless multitude of waves,
Where sickness pines; where thirst and hunger burn, A rural, shelter'd, solitary scene;
And poor misfortune feels the lash of vice. Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join,
While in the land of liberty, the land

To cheer the gloom. There studious let me sit, Whose every street and public meeting glow And hold high converse with the mighty dead; With open freedom, little tyrants rag'd;

Sages of ancient time, as gods rever'd, Snatch'd the lean morsel from the starving mouth; As gods beneficent, who blest mankind Tore from cold wintery limbs the tatter'd weed; With arts, with arms, and humaniz'd a world.

Rous'd at th' inspiring thought, I throw aside • The Jail Committee, in the year 1729.

The long-liv'd volume ; and, deep musing, hail

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »