The fubject propofed. Addrefs to the earl of Wilmington. First approach of Winter. According to the natural courfe of the feafon, various ftorms defcribed. Rain. Wind. Snow. The driving of the fnows: a man perishing among them; whence reflections on the wants and miferies of human life. The wolves defcending from the Alps and Apennines. A winter evening defcribed: as spent by philofophers; by the country people; in the city. Froft. A view of Winter within the Polar Circle. A thaw. The whole concluding with moral reflections on a future ftate.
EE, Winter comes, to rule the varied year,
Sullen and fad, with all his rifing train :
Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be thefe my theme,
These that exalt the foul to folemn thought,
And heavenly mufing. Welcome, kindred glooms! 5 Congenial horrors, hail! with frequent foot, Pleas'd have I, in my chearful morn of life, When nurs'd by careless folitude I liv'd, · And fung of Nature with unceafing joy,
Pleas'd have I wander'd through your rough domain; Trod the pure virgin-fnows, myself as pure; Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burst; Or feen the deep fermenting tempeft brew'd, In the grim evening fky. Thus pafs'd the time, Till through the lucid chambers of the fouth Look'd out the joyous Spring, look'd out, and smil'd. To thee, the patron of her first essay,
The Mufe, O Wilmington! renews her fong. Since has she rounded the revolving year: Skim'd the gay Spring; on eagle-pinions borne, Attempted through the Summer-blaze to rise; Then fwept o'er Autumn with the shadowy gale; And now among the wintery clouds again, Roll'd in the doubling ftorm, fhe tries to foar; VOL. LIV.
To fwell her note with all the rushing winds; To fuit her founding cadence to the floods; As is her theme, her numbers wildly great: Thrice happy! could fhe fill thy judging ear With bold description, and with manly thought. Nor art thou skill'd in aweful schemes alone, And how to make a mighty people thrive: But equal goodness, found integrity, A firm unfhaken uncorrupted foul Amid a fliding age, and burning strong,
Not vainly blazing for thy country's weal,
A steady spirit regularly free;.
These, each exalting each, the statesman light Into the patriot; these, the public hope And eye to thee converting, bid the Mufe Record what envy dares not flattery call.
Now when the chearless empire of the sky
To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields, And fierce Aquarius stains th' inverted year;
Hung o'er the fartheft verge of heaven, the fun
Scarce spreads through æther the dejected day. Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot His ftruggling rays, in horizontal lines,.
Through the thick air; as, cloath'd in cloudy ftorm, Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the fouthern sky; And, foon-defcending, to the long dark night, Wide-shading all, the proftrate world refigns. Nor is the night unwifh'd; while vital-heat, Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forfake. Meantime, in fable-cincture, fhadows vaft,.
Deep-ting'd and damp, and congregated clouds, And all the vapoury turbulence of heaven, Involve the face of things. Thus Winter falls, A heavy gloom oppreffive o'er the world, Through nature shedding influence malign, And roufes up the feeds of dark disease. The foul of man dies in him, loathing life, And black with more than melancholy views. The cattle droop; and o'er the furrow'd land, Fresh from the plough, the dun discolour'd flocks, Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root. Along the woods, along the moorish fens, Sighs the fad Genius of the coming storm; And up among the loofe disjointed cliffs,
And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawling brook And cave, presageful, fénd a hollow moan, Refounding long in liftening Fancy's ear.
Then comes the father of the tempest forth, Wrapt in black glooms. Firft joyless rains obfcure Drive through the mingling skies with vapour foul; Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the woods, 75 That grumbling wave below. Th' unfightly plain Lies a brown deluge; as the low-bent clouds Pour flood on flood, yet unexhausted still Combine, and deepening into night shut up
The day's fair face. The wanderers of heaven, Each to his home, retire; save those that love To take their pastime in the troubled air, Or skimming flutter round the dimply pool. The cattle from th' untafted fields return,
And afk, with meaning lowe, their wonted ftalls, 85 Or ruminate in the contiguous fhade.
Thither the houfhold feathery people crowd,
The crefted cock, with all his female train,
Penfive, and dripping; while the cottage-hind
Hangs o'er th' enlivening blaze, and taleful there 90 Recounts his fimple frolick: much he talks,
And much he laughs, nor recks the ftorm that blows Without, and rattles on his humble roof.
Wide o'er the brim, with many a torrent swell'd, And the mix'd ruin of its banks o'erfpread,
At laft the rous'd-up river pours along :
Refiftlefs, roaring, dreadful, down it comes, From the rude mountain, and the mofly wild, Tumbling through rocks abrupt, and founding far; Then o'er the fanded valley floating spreads, Calm, fluggish, filent; till again, constrain'd Between two meeting hills, it burfts away, Where rocks and woods o'erhang the turbid ftream; There gathering triple force, rapid, and deep, It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders through. Nature! great parent! whofe unceasing hand Rolls round the seasons of the changeful year, How mighty, how majeftic, are thy works! With what a pleafing dread they fwell the foul! That fees aftonish'd! and aftonish'd fings! Ye too, ye winds! that now begin to blow, With boisterous sweep, I raise my voice to you. Where are your flores, ye powerful beings! fay, Where your aërial magazines reserv'd,
« السابقةمتابعة » |