In starving folitude; while Luxury,
In palaces, lay straining her low thought,
To form unreal wants; why heaven-born Truth,
And Moderation fair, wore the red marks
Of Superstition's scourge; why licens'd Pain,
That cruel spoiler, that embofom'd foe,
Imbitter'd all our bliss. Ye Good distrest!
Ye noble Few! who here unbending stand
Beneath lifc's pressure, yet bear up a while, 1065
And what your bounded view, which only faw
A little part, deem'd evil, is no more:
The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
THESE, as they change, Almighty Father! these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm; Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles; And every fenfe, and every heart, is joy. Then comes Thy glory in the Summer months, With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy sun Shoots full perfection thro' the swelling year; 10 And oft' Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks; And oft' at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales, Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfin'd, And fpreads a common feast for all that lives. In Winter awful Thou! with clouds and storms Around Thee thrown! tempest o'er tempest roll ! Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing, Riding fublime, Thou bidst the world adore, And humblest Nature with thy northern blast.
Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine,
Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train,
Yet so delightful mix'd with fuch kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd,
Shade, unperceiv'd, so softening into shade,
And all fo forming an harmonious whole,
That as they still fucceed they ravish still.
But wandering oft', with brute unconscious gaze,
Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand
That, ever-bufy, wheels the filent spheres,
Works in the fecret deep, shoots, steaming, thence
The fair profufion that o'erspreads the Spring!
Flings from the sun direct the flaming day,
Feeds every creature, hurls the tempeft forth,
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, 35
With transport touches all the springs of life.
Nature, attend! join every living soul
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join, and, ardent, raise
One general fong! To Him, ye vocal Gales!
Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your freshness breathes:
Oh talk of him in solitary glooms!
Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine
Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.
And Ye! whose bolder note is heard afar,
Who shake th' astonish'd world, lift high to heaven Th' impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye Brooks! attune, yetrembling Rills!
And let me catch it as I muse along.
Ye headlong Torrents! rapid and profound;
Ye fofter Floods! that lead the humid maze
Along the vail: and thou, majestic Main!
A fecret world of wonders in thyfelf,
Sound His ftupendous praife, whose greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds, to Him, whose fun exalts,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints
Ye Forefts! bend; ye Harvests! wave to Him;
Breathe your till fong into the reaper's heart, 60
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon,
Ye that keep watch in heaven! as earth afleep
Unconfcious lies; effufe your mildest beams,
Ye Constellations! while your angels ftrike,
Amid the spangled sky, the filver lyre.
Great Source of day! best image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
From world to world, the vital ocean round,
On Nature write, with every beam, his praise.
The thunderrolls: be hush'd the proftrate World, 70
While cloud to cloud returns the folemn hymn.
Bleat out afrefh, ye Hills! ye mofly Rocks!
Retain the found the broad refponsive low,
Ye Vallies! raise, for the Great Shepherd reigns,
And his unfuffering kingdom yet will come.
Ye Woodlands all! awake; aboundlefs fong
Burst from the groves; and when the reftlefs day,
Expiring, lays the warbling world afleep,
Sweetest of birds! sweet Philomela! charm
The listening shades, and teach the nightHis praise. 80
Ye, chief, for whom the whole creation smiles,
At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all,
Crown the great hymn. In swarming cities vast,
Afssembled Men! to the deep organ join.
The long-refounding voice, oft' breaking clear, 85
At folemn pauses, thro' the swelling base,
And as each mingling flame increases each,
In one united ardour rife to heaven.
Or if you rather chuse the rural shade,
And find a fane in every facred grove,
There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay,
The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre,
Still fing the God of Seasons as they roll.
For me, when I forget the darling theme,
Whether the blossom blows, the Summer-ray
Ruffets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams,
Or Winter rifes in the blackening East,
Be my tongue mute, may Fancy paint no more,
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat !
Should Fate command me to the farthest verge 100
Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes,
Rivers unknown to fong, where first the fun
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam
Flames on th' Atlantic ifles, 'tis nought to me;
Since God is ever present, ever felt,
In the void waste as in the city full !
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