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Thb

THOMSONS SEASONS.

AUTUp AND WINTER,

WITir AN

INTRODUCTION AND NOTES

H. I. STR A NG, B. A..

Head Master, atid

A. J. MOORE, B. A.,

Matfutiuttical Master i,j

GODJMllCH HIGH SCHOOL.

FOR THK irSK OF CANDIDATES 1>RK1'AU1N(J FOR

UNIVKRSITY MATRICIIJ, ATION AND

TKACIIEHS' CFRTIFICATES.

TORONTO:

Th« Copp-Clauk Company, (Limttkt)). Publ.hhku«. Front Street VVc^t

1886.

Entered iiccordiiii; to A(!t of tliu r;ii liaiiu:iit of Ciiiiada, in the year one thousand
oiu:ht hnndroii and ei;,'lity-si\, hy TnK Coi'I'-Clakk (Jomtany, (Limiteu), in the
Oltice of ttie Minister of A<rrieulturo.

PREFACi:.

car oiu! tliousiind
(Li.MiTKD), ill the

In olFfriiif^ for .scIiodI iis(^ this (.(litioii of tlu^ pot'try i>ic.scril»t'(l for next
year's tixjiiiiiuutioiis, W(! ;ir(3 not sani^Miijio (.'nonj.;li t(t expect tiiut it will
esciipo unfuvoimiWle criticism. We h;iv(; foll(»\v«'tl our own judK'iK'nt in
regard to the niituit- iind amount of tlit; lielp to lu- furnished, and while we
liiiv«' neither hoped nor desire<l to relieve teachers from teachinij;', or students
fmm studying the poems, we have honestly tried to lij,diten their lal)-ur in
doing so.

The object of the introduction is to sn])ply xieci-ssary information in
regard to the life and character of th(! author, and the inlluences tliat sur-
rounded him ; that of the nittes, to help candidates to a bettoi' understanding
and appreciation of the poems, and at the same tinu; to lead them to notice,
think, and investigate for themselves. In writing both we have kept in
mind that the book is designed for different grades of studi-nts, and that
many who are likely to use it will have but little time or oj)portunity to
C(»nsult good works of reference.

For reasons which need not be mentioned, tlu; work has been doi

»e mori!

hurriedly than we should have liked, and hence some omissions or mistakes
may have beeji overlooked. Vartly for the same reasons the notes on
Winfcr were written first, which will account for some of the referi'iices in
the notes to Autumn.

Liistly, while T am set down on the title] lage as joint editor witti Mr.
Moore, and while I accept my full share of thi^ responsibility for the work,
it is only fair to say that he deserves the credit of it. 1 have simply lu-en
consulting and revising editor, and, exci-jit a few slight alterations and
additions here and there, both introduction and notes appear substantially
as they were written by him.

II. I. STRAN(

(jiODiiiiicii, Julij -iOth, /56'7.

/lit /(>/<'.

iiiiniHt
paii.sli
ilistric

i toi" pi*'
iJients,
posscsi'

"Tf

IJI'l- OF IIIOMSON.

■'>*

44^

.lA.MKS Thomson, the iintlior of tlu; S('a.<tovs and tho (\i^lh o/
linloli.ni'i , was born at Mdnam, a little village on the I'vvi'tul, in the
i^ounty of Tioxbnrgli, Se[)tenil)ei', 1700. His father, who wiis the
niini.st(!r at that place, shortly after the poet's hirth removed to the
pat'ish of iSoiitiidean, in tli(^ same county, a rather remote and ruggiMl
district, among the lower slopes of the ('heviots. His fathei' was noted
tor piety and /eal in chnrch work rather than for great natural endow-
7nents, hut his mother seems to have been a very superior woman,
possessed of every sfxdal and domestic virtue, unitcfl to a most
nnaginative and devotional nature. Thus of 'I'iiomson it can be said, as
of many other sons of genius, that he was indebted to his mother foi- his
chief mental excellencies.

He attended the school at Jedburgh, but while there showed no
superiority to otlutr boys ; on tlu; crjntiaiy, he experienced some dithculty
in mast(!ring the rudinujnts of Latin and (i reek. During the last three
years of his residence with the family in the Sout!i<lean manse, while he
was attending Jedl)urgh (Jranuuar Scliool, his education was superin-
tended by a Mr. Riccaltoun or Riccarton, parish minister of Hobkirk, a
man of some literary taste and capacity. Mi'. Riccaltoun became much
attached to Thomson, and seems to have been the first to discern in
him the evidence.-s of poetic genius. Thomson, thus Ixjing fortunate in
his friend, became a fair general scholar, and received a good grounding
in classical literatui'e.

By this time he had attracted some notice and made some fiiends
among tho gentry of the neigid)ourh()od, by poetical compositions at
school and other scraps of verso, most of which, however, so little
pleased himself that on each New Year's day, the productions of the
past year were v/ith mock soienuuty committ<;d to the flames.

(ireat '.s Thomson's natural gifts undoul)tedly were, yet the rural
grace and rugged gi'andeur of his home among the hills nuist have had
much to do in developing and sha[)ing his peculiar character as a poet.
Allan Cunningham describes the landscape as "lovely, >vith its gi-ecn
hills and its blooming heather, whil(! the shuider stream of the crystal Jed
winding through the whole adds a look of life by its niovin" waters *'\

LIFE OF THOMSON.

th(! upliiml Holitmlc." 'I'lii.s n.itiiriil luvcIincsH, and the Ic^hmuIs and
.songs in wliicli Ko,\l)ui';.;li i« licli, jnoved in tlu'. case of 'riioinsoii to he
uu!ct nurses for tlie poetic spirit within. A fragment preserved— l»y
accident we supiM>se from the periodical burnings, shows considerahh'
jiowtsrs of fancy and felicity of expression, and sliows, t<H), tlu; early
l)ent of Thomson's genius towards the apcksti'ophc; and descriptions ot
the powers of nature, and of thi' Divine; attributes dis[tlayed in them :

* Now 1 surveyed my native faculties,
And traced my actions to their teeining source ;
Now 1 explored the Universal frame,
(ila/(!d natuiv through, and with interior liglit
Conversed with angels and end>o<lied saints,
Tiiat tread the courts of the Kternal King.

Ah my F^ord (!od ! in vain a tender youth,
Unskilh'd in arts of d(U'p pliilos«iphy,
Attempts to sc^arch the bulky mass of inntter,
To trace the; rrdtis of motion, and pursue
Tiie phantom Time, too subtle for his grasp.
^'et may 1 from thy most apparent works
Form some idea of their wondrous Author.

At eighteen he went as a divinity .stu;lent to Kdiiduirgh College,
where his political reputation had preced(;d him and was the means of
gaining for him the life long friendship of David Mallet and of Murdoch,
his biographer. At cf)llege he was not iM)pular with the stu<lents in
general, and was votcid by many a dull fellow and a fair mark for
ridicule. Scaiccly thi'(!e years had elapsed when his father suihh^nly
died, leaving his large family — there were nine, of whom Thoms(m was
the fourth -in straitened circumstance*. His mother, who had
inluu'ited a small estate or farm from her own people, mortgag(!<l it, and
came with the family to l^dinburg i, resolved by strict economy to com-
plete James's education for the ministry.

One day, while pursuing his divinity studies, he handed in to the
Professor as an exerci.se, a paraphrase of the 119th p.salm. Johnson
says " his diction was so poetically splendid that Mr. Ifamilton reprnv^t d
him for using language unintelligible to a popular audience." I'robably
a<lvice and not reproof was given, still the incident may have had its
eileet in d(;teriuining Thomson to forsake divinity for the mn.se of
poetry. But hjdinburgh at that time ollered few inducements to
tlie man of KitUu's. The sttnn theology of Calvin had so permeated
tne national character that to most Scotchmen the i)layhouse was an

LII'K OF TlluMlsoV.

vn.

he legends and
'I'Ihumsou to be

preserved — l>y
vs eoiisideiiildc

t«K), the (ijirly
d(!S(;j'i|)ti(>iis ot
lyed in tlieni :

ibnrgh College,
s tlm nuiins of
id of Murdoeh,
he students in
fair mark for
ither suddt^nly
1 Thoin.son wa.s
ler, vv'iio had
rtgai,'(!<l it, and
ononiy to eom-

»ded in to the
aim. Johnson
lilton repn^vt d
je." I'rohahly
y have had its

the muse of
iduoenientw to

so permeated
I' house was an

alM)miiiation, and the oultivaiioii of [WM'try a suspicious pursuit. So,
en(oura,i,'ed, it is su]»|)osi'd, l>y his mother, and by the praises bestowed
by others oi iM)etry Ite had written at eoUege, iispecially a paraphrase
of the l()-kh j)salm, Thomson t<M»k tin- decisive step, and in the spiing
of 172.1 set out for Jjondon to try his fortune.

He carried with him very litth; money, but many letters of intr«»-
dintioji to peisons of conseijuence, either social or liti^rary, and the yet
incom|)lete manuscript of \\'liif< r. While ga[>ing about him in the streets
he had his p(H;kets picked of most of his letters, and in this strait he
Kouj^ht out his old frientl Mallet, tlien in London and tutor to the sons
of the Duke of Montrose. He advised him to com|»lete Winter and
connect the individual scenes int(» a regidar ]M)em. While iloin;^ thi.-,
'J'hoiiison received news of his mother's deatli, and it was under the
burden of this allliction nnd amid the unconi^cnial labour of a tutor, that^^
the |MK!m was tinishtMl and made its appearance in March, 17'2(). With
dilliculty lie obtained from Millan, the publisher, three tjuineas for the
eopyiij^ht, and for a winle there were no buyers, lint owing to the good
ollices of a Kev. Mr. W'hatley, who by accident t(M)k it up in the shop,
approve<l of it, and sounded its praises in the cort'ee houses, Thomson
began to grow famous, ""'lie fritindship of Aaron Hill, innnortalized as
one of the diveis in tlie Diinruul (J I. 'iiM) secured for him an invitation
and a twenty guiiu;a present from Sir SjK^ncer Comi)ton, Si)eaker of the
Ifoust!, to wliom Wintar had been dedicated, although he was probably
ignorant even of the poet's existence. Thomson was not above the true
<; rub-street servility of the literary n n of that age, and the fulsome
a<lulation offered by the poet to the \v ' tor (Hill) is [)ainful and <lis-
gusting to read. However, the popu of Winter grew a[)ace, and

before the end of the year two new editions were re(juire<l. Money was
still so scarce with Thomson that he was again forced to resort to
teaching, this time in a private academy ; but his reputation and
amiability were gaining for him many friends, and we Hud that Duncan
Forbes, who helped him to prune his style a little, Aikman the painter,
Miss J)relincourt, a beauty and a wit, " who looked and taught him into
reputation," Dr. Rundle, Arbutlniot, (lay, Savage, C'ollins aiul I'ope
came to be among his familiar acquaintances, although I'ope was never
very cordial.

Next year (1727) Summer was given to the world, and in I72.S S/rriitg,
dedicated to the literary dabbler, the Countess of Heitfoid. 'J'he jMHit
was honoured with an invitation for the sunnner to hv.v country-seat, but
paying more attention to the table than to her l.ulyship's j)oetie eilusions,
the iuvitiition was never repeated. Thomson's literary fame was now

VIM.

LIFK OF rilOM.SONr.

sndiciiMitly cstiildisliid to ciisui-c; a i'cs|H!(;tfiil rrcu-ptioii to liiH pot.!ii\
llfildiniiii (17'i!>), wliicli is iiotliiii;^' Imt a fati.^iiiii^f iiivtuitivc aijainst the
^'ovoniincnt for tluMi- slackiuis.s in tin; Sj)anisli war, Thomson, with most
of tliu iniiM of letter's, lioiiii,' in opposition.

A (|uai'to edition of th(5 SaiMnix (Auhimn now first appearing) wa.s
issmid l)y snitsc.-iption in I7*iO. Tn thi; samo volnino ap])(;aro(l the pooni
in nusnioi'y of N^nvton, anil tln' worU cIoschI with that ma<.;nificont hymn
whi(!h has lKt;n (lallt'd 'rhftnison's finest production. Among the snl»-
scrihiM's, of wliDiii ilicrc; wcr*; three hundred and ei^dity-seven, taking
four hnndrel and lifty-tour copies, were the leading men of letter.s, and
besides, many jter.sons of high social rank.

Thomson's lirst tragedy was iS'o/^//o///".s7ya,, acted in 1729-30; hut, al
though its rehearsal drew to.,'ether a H[>l(!ndid critical audienci!, yet when
[)erfoiincd it evoked no enthusiasm. 'J'he story goes tliat one weak line :

( ), S'lplii.nislta ! Sn|)hiinisl)a, O 1
was pai'odied by a wag into

(), Jeimny Tliomson ! Jemmy Thomson, O !
This set th(! town adaugliing, ami the play after a short time was with,
drawn. Tliomson wr<tte otiier plays, hut their deckimatoiy style an<l
want of humour milittcd them for stage dialogue, and with one doubtful
cxcejjtion, they were all u)isuecessful.

In 17.31, through Dr. Kundle's inlluence, he became travelling com-
panion to the son of Sir (!has. Tal])ot. They visited France, Switzer-
land and Italy, and wei'c away about a year. (!ra,teful and beiujfieial as
this journey must have; been to Thomson, yet the tirst product of it, a
dreary poem entitled I.ilwrtij, proved a <lismal faHure. In Septend>er,
173.3, his young fellow-travoller ditid, and 'J'homson's tribute to his
memory in sincere but not very felicitous verse, M^as the cause of his
being given ])y Sir Clias. Talbot, nf)W Lord Chancellor, the post of Sec-
retary of liriefs in Chaiuiery, wliei'e the pa,y was good and the work was
nothing. In consetpience we find him removed to Richmond, in a cot-
tage close to the river's edge, and with a garden attached so that he
could indulge his taste for gardening. His prosperity seems to have
mad(! him imlolent, but showed at the san)e time his kindness of heart
an<l Ids natural aU'ection. He settled a small anninty on two of his
sisters, and invited his invalid brother to live with him, hut the poor
' '1l<nv could not endure tlie damp I^higlish climate and returned to Seot-
i.'.nd ordy to die.

It is jtretty ctn'tain too tliat Thomson at this time meditated matri-
mony with a young lady wliom lie celebrates in his songs as Amanda.
8he was a Miss Elizabeth Young of Dumfries. The course of true love

LTFK OF Tn<n!S()\.

IX.

)ri to his pocii\
;tivi; ii;L,'iiiitHt tin;
iii.son, with most

appcarin^f) wan
pcarod tlio poem
a'^iiificuiit hymn
\iii()iig the sul>
ty-seven, takiiii^'
1 of letters, and

29-80 ; l)ut, al
ieiKH!, yet when
/ one weak Hue :

; time was witl>.
latoiy styh; an<l
ith one douhtful

ti'avellinij; oom-

''ranee, Swit/er-

md l)en(!fieial as

product of it, a

In September,

trilmte to his

le cause of his

bhe post of See-

d tlie work was

mond, in a eot-

hed so that he

seems to have

ndnesH of heart

Y on two of his

n, but the poor

turned to Seot-

editated inatri-
igs as Amanda.
rse of true love

did not run smooth or end happily for the poet, t'<>r ('upi<r,s best arrows
are often tipped with gold, anil Amanda succiinihcd to a wealthier
suitor. His dreams of lettered ease provi-d to be m-arly as transient as
tliose of love, for the old ('liam-i'llor (Talbot) died in IT.'IT, and 'I'homsoT'
too indolent or too proiid to solicit the new on j ( lfardwick(!) for reapf>oint-
ment, lost his place. I'cnforce he betook himself to woik .ind ]>i()dueed
the tragedy of A(jamemvoii, a classical pie(.;e, and a ycai- afterwards
Kilicard ai\(l Ehdnora, dealing with early Knglisji history. 'J'his last
was a greater failure tlian Ai/ftmc/finon, which is saying a good deal.

Just a little before the ])oet had been arrested for debt, and eonvctyed
to a sponging-house, from which he Wiis released by the actor (i)uin, who
out of admiration for tlu; author of tlu' S( ((sons visitiwl him theri\ ordered
in a good supper (which Thomson likid) and in the; course of the eveni?ig
gave him €100. Immediately after he was introductid by Lytti^lton to
th«; I*i-ince of Wales, who being out of favour at (!oui"t and anxious for
populai'ity, gave Thomson a pension of a hundred a year. 'I'hi'ough these
two windfalls of fortune and the sahis of his published works, which now
were considerable, 'J'homson was able to retain his suburbati cottage and
garden on the Thames, where he lived in a sort of rural retii-enumt,
attending to his garden and fi'uit trees, revising t\\v. Seasons, and at odd
monuiuts adding a stan/a to the lUistle of Inilolnire.

In 1744, his friend Littelton, being in the m.-w Ministry as a Commis-
sioner in the Treasury, lost no time in appointing Thomson Surveyor-
(Jeneral of the Leeward Islands. The enudununits, after paying a de])uty
to pcrfoi-m the active duties, amounted to about £.'}()() a year. This to
Thomson was almost allluence, and made him independent of the pension
which the Prince had given him, but four years later had rather shabbily
withdrawn. The snug cottage in Kew Lane was comfortably, even
elegantly furnished, and became the scene of nnich social enjoyment with
his friends. Lyttleton's scat was also a favoi-itc resort of his in those days.

Tana^ed and S}(jismund(i, his most successful ti-agedy, camtt out in
1745, and for a while it was a public fa\'orite. Some have thought that
its popularity was due less to its intrinsic merits than to the celebrated
actors, (Jarrick and Mrs. Cibber, wlio took parts in it. l>ut that such
was not wholly the ease, is apparent from the favjt that Jolmson speaks
of it in his time as still keephig its turn upon the stage.

The CciHth of Indolence, on whieli he had been engaged at intervals
during fifteen years, appeared in May, 174S, and must be considered as
his greatest work, if judged as a work of art, though if excellence be
gauged by the number of readers, the .SVrrsrw.v will easily bear away the
palm. Thomson has been accused of negligence of style, perhaps with

LIFI-: UF I'lIOMSON.

justice, but the Caxtlc of Indoltnct shows no faults of this kind, each
stanza and phrase being polished with consummate care. It is an allegory,
written in the Spenserian measure, and happily conceived in the style
and spirit of the Fairy Queen.

On such a theme as Indolence Thomson wrote con amori, and for a
picture oi lazy luxury set forth in tlie most melodious verse, the opening
stan/.as of the first canto have no ecjual in the language.

Thomson's death resulted from a neglected cold. He had walked
into town, as was usual for him to do, and in the evening feeling tired
and overheated, took the boat. The night air brought on a chill. Next
day he was in a high f jver, and i" "prudently venturing out before he had
fully recovered, sufl'ered a relapj&c. This time medical aid was of no avail,
and he dic^d at four o'clock in the morning of Saturday, 27th August,
just two weeks before completing his forty -eighth year. He was buried
in the clnirch at Uiclunond. His loss was severely felt by a large circle
of friends. Collins, the poet, who lived near him, left Richmond and re-
fused to return. (»>uin, who spoke the prologue to his last play, Coriolantis,
was allected to tears. Millun, liis publisiier, marked his esteem by de-
voting the prolits of a splendid editicm of the poet's works to the erection
of a monument in Westndnistcr Abbey, where it was placed between
those of Shakespeare and Kowe. Never was man more sincerely mourned.
Murdoch, his old friend and biographer, speaks of him as "our »)ld, tried,
amiable, open ard honest-hearted Thomson, whom we never parted from
but unwillingly, and never met but with fresh transport; in whom we found
ever the same delightful companion, the same faithful depository of our
inmost i-houghts, and the same sensible, sympathizing adviser."

In youth Thomson was thought handsome, but with age his figure
became ungainly, and his countenance gross and unanimated. He
was, as is said in the C(v<lle of Indolence, more "fat than bard
beseems. " In a numerous company he was generally silent and appeared
somiiwhat stupid, but if directly avldiessed and engaged in conversation
his features underwent a remarkable change ; his eyes lighted up with
unwonted fire, and he became, as he always was with a tew select
friends, yp. ightly and entertaining in his talk. Many stories have been
told of his laziness. One represented him as standing at a peach tree with
his hands in his pockets, eating the fruit as it grew, liut an easy and in-
dolent good nature was more than redeemed by an imall'ected simplicity of
heart. His patriotism, his tendcirness for the brute creation, his love for
his fiiends, iiis strong aifection for the mend)ers of liis own family, his
extensivegei\eralac(juirements,and his classical hiaining w<uild have made
Janu's Thomson a beloved and respected member vi society, even if he
Jiad not been, as he was, one of England's greatest poets.

wllo

all h

plciu

and

lit.'r;

liter;

had

LIFE UF TIIOMSOV.

XI.

this kind, each
; is an allegory,
ed iu the style

nor^y and for a
se, the opening

[e had walked

ig feelhig tired

a chill. Next

t before he had

vas of no avail,

27th August,

He was buried

^ a large circle

liuiond and re-

ay, CoriolamLa,

esteem by de-

to the erection

laced ))ctsveen

;rely mourned.

our old, tried,

ur parted from

^•hom we found

K)sitory of our

iser."

age his figure
limated. He
it than bard
and appeared
1 conversation
fhted up with
a few select
rics have been
each tree with
,n easy and in-
l simplicity of
1, his love for
vn family, his
uld have made
ty, even if he

I
I

?i5

THE STATE OF THE LITERARY WORLD.

In tlip year 1700, in which Thomson was horn, Drydt-n died Dryden,
who had ocen kiiij^' of thu lirt'i-ary world so long. , Ht' had bi'cn a time-serviT
all his life; liad i»rais.'fl Croiiiwcll, had In-lauded Charles, had apostati/erl to
please .lames. Altlutiifirh fallen cm evil days, le{)rive.'l of his hmnfateshii*,
and forced to work for his 1 ad in his old ag(^, he yet conferred the chief
literary ustre on William's rei^ni. He had brought in the French tastes in
lit(U'atm-e, and as a playwright had pijrformed a great part in corrupting the
Englisli stage. His very last work, the "Fables," showed that adversity
had taught him nothing in that respect, for they are tainted with even
greater licentiousness th.an the originals from ]><)ccacio and Chaucer, lint
iiowever we may lament his indi'cenci"s, his knowledge of English was
exquisite and wonderful. He was the greatest living writer in prose or
verse. Po[)e, his inniiediate siiccessor,

" Whom I )ryden taught to join
I'he varying vrvsc, the full resoiinding line,
The long majestic march, and energy divine,"

acknowledges him as his master and model inth(;artof versi'icutum. Poj'.',
howevei', i • proved on Dryden, if l)y imjirovement be meant great* t smooth-
ness iind I'egularity ; a more jtolished and balanced antithesis ; a more bit-
ing sarcasm ; a more stinging and pointed wit. He brought ih<! lieroic
couplet to such ])erfection that it has «ner since remained the Vrjhicle for
those kinds of poetry iu which Pope excelled, vi/. : the didactic, the satiric,
the argumentativi!. Pope was th<' head of what has been called the artificial,
the classical, and also the correct school. ]iy these terms the stvxdent must
understand a conforming to certain rules ; a sort of jtoetical code for V(irsi-
fiers. For instance: a redundant syllabh; must not be admittefl, exet^pt in
dramatic writing ; a pause of some kind nnist be at the end ui every couplet :
a fidl stop nnist never be placed, nor a new paragraph begin in th(^ middle
of a line, etc. These terms also refer to more than the mere form. It was
an age of venality and insincerity in politics, of open profligacy or tninly-
veneered vic(! at court and among the upper classes ; of ignorance and bes-
tiality among the lower classes; and worst of all, the church was sunk in
indifference antl hjst to spiritual life. The ui)per and educated clergy wero
(Uther busy in securing preferment, or e::gagi!d in metaphysical discussions
on the natuH! or origin of rtjligion ; the country clergy w«;re often e(p>ally
ignorant and coarse with tlieir parishioners. The picture Thomson has
given of their habits in " Autunm," h[\i\ {>, was unfortunately too often tru«^
Under Walpolc, th(! policy of (lovernment patronage, of lucrative sinecures
for literary men, was entirely changed. Aft<'r this the litr-rary life became

one of indigence and obsciu'ity -oftena struggle bu' b.ire existence'
begins the generation of Crub street hacks. In no other

(fro

age were the

xu.

LIFE OF THOMSON.

writers so beggarly and vile, so fierce and rancorous. Pope has immortal
i/ed Homi! of them in his inimitable satire. There were a few exceptions |o
tlie usual misery. Poi)e from the profits of his Homer was snug in Twicken-
ham ; Swift got his deanery by raitin(j ; Young, his pension, by flattery;
Richardson lived by his printing ; Addison was especially fortunate.

The mission ;)f the poetry of Anne and George I. was not to delineate
external nature, but to satirize or eulogize human nature. Wordsworth
makes the rather strong statement " that, excepting a passage or two in the
* Windsor Forest' oi Pope, and some delightful pictures in the ' Poems of
Lady Winchelsea,' the poetry of the period between the publication of
' Paradise Lost ' and the 'Seasons' does not ccmtain a single new image
of external nature." The whoh; world of letters was engaged in satirizing,
in translating, in arguing, in declaiming, in uttering maxims, in sf'ntim(;ntal
reflecting. The poetry is a reflex of the time ; it is correct ; it is brilliant
with wit ; it perhaps convinces, lint it does not stir the emotions. Sarcasm
is much oftener found than honest, passionate indignation. Comedy is a
much greater favorite than tragedy. Of prjlish and afl'ectation there was
plenty ; of deep passiim of any kind there was v(;ry little. Fi'om the public
cation of "Winter" we must go forward twenty years to find the fancy and
pathos of Collins. About twenty years more brings us to the publication of
Percy's '^ lieliqucs," which is an epoch in the slowly reviving taste for
what is natm-al and simple and unaffected. Our older poets again began
k) b(! studied and imitated. New subjects were chosen, a new treatment
adopted.

And here it is proper to notice; that religious awakening in the middle of
the 18th century, which had such profound moral results, and which no
doubt C(mtributed not a little to affect tlie form and substance of lit(!rature.
The Pin-itanism which had successfully resistiid the; tyranny of the first two
Stuarts, developed a tyranny of its own, more galling perhaps by reason of
its aust(U'ity. When in lOGO England was released from the gloomy reign of
the Saints, the great principles of morality and of religious liberty seemed
for awhile to have dei)arted with them. But tlii\y soon reapp(>ar. TIh!
moral force of Puritanism, its chief and abiding glory, assents itself in the
revolution of KkSS, and shows itself in the Methodist revival, which was but
a protest against the apatliy of the Church. It is seen in the jtleaof Burke
for the Hindoo, in th(! philanthropy of Howard, in the work of Clarkson
and Wilberforoe for the black man. It is seen in the evangelic mcwement
which took plac(> within the pale of the English Ciuu'ch itself. The gentle
Cowi)er took a part with Mr. N(!wton, its leader, in reclaiming the irreligi-
ims of Olney. No other poem breatlies a purer si)irit of piety and Christian
|>hilosophy than the "T;isk," and this poem is generally taken to be the
culniin:;tion and eomplelioii of that rebellion against the reign of the false
and affected, and of that return to the simple an<l sincere in which Thomson
had take'.i the first step.

succ

obje

the

Tho

the

min^

frag

LIFE OF THOMSON.

XUl.

! has immortal
V exceptions ^o
ng in Twicken-
n, by flattery;
■tunate.

lot to delineate

Wordsworth

re or two in the

the ' Poems of

publication of

2fle new image

(1 in satirizing,

in sr'iitimeiital

; it IS brilliant

ions. Sarcasm

Comedy is a

tion there was

'rom the public

[ the fancy and

publication of

ving taste for

ts again began

new treatment

1 tlie middle of
and which no
n of lit(!rature.
•f the first two
>s by reason of
loomy reign of
iberty seemed
>api)('ar. The
s itself in the

hich was but

tleaof Burkt!

of Clarkscm
tlic movement
The gentle

^' the irndigi-
uid Christian
cen to be the
:n of the false

lich Thomson

CMARACTKR OF THOMSON'S POETRY.

PoKTiiY, like painting, or sculpture, i.s inutaticm, and is finest and most
8UCC(!S8ful when it produces on the mind the effect of the original. If the
object of descrijjtive poetry is to create tlirough tlie imaginative; faculty
the liveliest images of the real objects from which tliey arc drawn, then.
Thomson is the greatest of our descriptive poets. As we read him, we see
the green fields, the trees covered with white blossoms, and the bees hum.
ming amorg them, the flowers that grow by the brook and give out their
fragrance as it goes jmrling by. We see the shadows chasing each other
over the yellow cornfields, w(; hear the sighing of the autunm winds and the
groaning of the winter's tempest, and W(; seem to see befort; our very eyes,
away out on the bleak snowy waste, the po«jr lost wretch i)lunging through
the shapeless drifts.

There is no other writer that has drunk in more of the soul of his subject.
•' He looks on nature with the eye that nature bestows only on a poet, with a
mind that ct)mpi"eliends the vast and attends t«) tin; minute." Nature was
his first love, when lie saw her in the valleys of Soutlidean ; and years after,
in the gardens of Kew, lie again exclaims :

" I care not Fortune, what you me deny ;

You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace,

You cannot shut the windows of the sky,

Thnmgh which Aurora shows her brightening face ;

You cannot bar my ct instant feet to trace

The woods and lawns, by living streams at eve ;

Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave."

It is common to make comparisons between Thomson and Cowper. In
chastenessof language and harmony Cowper is the superior, yet it is thought
the former possessed a greater share of the true spirit of poesy. Thomson
loves to paint with bold sweei)ing strokes, and makes a grand general im-
press on the mind. Cowper delights us by a series of minute and delicate
touches, which make his picture stand out in exquisite clearness and beauty.
Thomson loves images of i>ower and energy ; Cowper those of grace and quiet
— his life was passed among scenes of less rugged character. (See W. 729,
n.) Thomson seems to have lK>en fortunate in his choice of a subject, and
even its very title seems a happy one. There existed in his time very little
descriptive poetry worthy of the name. Si)encer was forgotten, and Milton
had been neglected. "From Drydcm to Thomson there is scarcely a rural
image drawn from life to be found in any of the English poets excej)t (Jay."
Thomson's suViject admitted of being treated in tht) digressive and dasul-
tory manner suited to his indolent temperament, and gave ample scoi)e for
diffuseuess of description, as well as for gorgeous colouring and unlimited
epithet,

XIV.

LIFE OF THOMSON.

POETICAL FORM.

TiiK "S(^'isons" arc writtt-M in Tuiribic IVntannter, or lilank Verso— th. -it
i.s in lines which do not rhyme— luiil which cnntuin regularly ten sylhihles, or
five iiunbic f<'et, the nnniber of the accents beinf?. however, of more im-
portance than the number of tfu; syllables. The genexal rule that every
line shall end with some important word, Thomson has ])retty strictly
observed. The terminal words are nearly always nouns or verbs, occasion-
ally a pronoun, an adjective, or an adverb, never a pure prei)ositiou or con-
junction. The scansion is, fj^enerally speaking, regular and easy. A Iroclicc
sometimen occurs in i)lacH' of an iambus, i;sually in the first foot, and unajKtds
or amjikihi-tieha are not ui.connuon, but these are the oidy changes neces-
sary to make tlie accents of tlie line fall on the proixjrly accented syllables of
the words. . . . In form as well as subject the " Seasons '' may be con-
sidered a new departun;. The causes of Thomson's adoi)tion of blank verse
are not far to seek. His ministerial nurture and training, and on that ac-
count greater familiarity with pro Restoration and I'uritan authors, no
doubt inclined him toward the verse in which Milton wrote. The form of liis
boyish efforts, of which a siKJcimen is given in the Life, will sliow best the
force of his early associations. He seems all ahmg to have been conscious
(See A. (M(), and n.), no<^ only that an entire poem in the rhyming measure
of the day would weary by tlie regularity of its cadence, but that Ijlank vi-rse
would better suit his theme, and would have besides tin; added charm of
novelty.

THE RELIGIOUS ELEMENT IN THE SEASONS.

Thk religion of the Seasons is Vmt that religion which nature alone
might teach ; it recognizes a Supreme Architect ; it has a lofty and moral
tone, and has a i)leasing harmony, and a disposition towards sweetness and
light vv^iiich Matliinv Arnold might envy, liut its character is very indefin-
ite ; it has little reference to the iiualiti/ of our Ix-liefs, or to the real remedy
for the evil tendencies of the heart, the acceptance of Clirist and the infiu-
enee of the Holy Spirit. In only a very few passages we discover with souje
difficulty any recognition of the revealed character of God. Some have
thought that the speculations of the English Deists, the i)lausible advocates
of natural religion, may have had some influence with Thomson, as we know
they had with Voltaire.* The more charitable view is that the poet, not
altogether wanting in that shrewdness inherent in the Scottish character,

* Voltaire visitod Eiif^land in T7'2G, and reuiaiued two years. lie thus became
familiar with the writin-fs of ShaftoslMiry, Ito injjrbroko, Collins, Tiiidall, Wollaston,
etc. It must be remembered that only i^iioriuiee attributes atbeism to Voltaire. In
fact Diderot was disfjfusted with liim for not I'eini,'- sufficiently advanced, and thoiij,'ht
him a ment.il weakling for still adhering to the belief of (Jod.

ada]l

SI hoi

rei)e

dictil

ten 11

seciil

the

LIKK OF TIloMttuN.

XV.

c Verso— thiit
II HylliilJo.s, or

of more iin-
If Uiat every
retty strictly
rb.s, occtisicm-
isitioii or con-
y. A Irocluc.
and (inapoists
liinges neces-
■dsylliihlos of
' may he con-
f blank verse
I on tliat ac-

author.s, no
leform of his
iliovv best the
■en conscious
liny measure
t bhink verse
ied charm of

NS.

atnre alone
y and inoijil
v^eetness ;ind
^ery indefin-
real rt'nmdy
ikI the influ-
ir vvitli some

Some have
le advocates

as we know
It) ])oet, not

1 character,

thus became
11, Wollaston,
Voltaire. In
and thought

adapted his religious sentiments to the prevjiihny taste. Pope and his
sihool then ruled the republic of letters, and this of itself may explain the
rejH'ated moral platitudes, who.se weari.someness the ornate and splendid
diction caimot always conceal. In a transition ]»eriod we must expect some
temporizing, and this cautious treatment no doubt .secured and still does
securt! a wider circle of readers. None but an atheist could tind fault with
the theology of the ^Seasons,

lovp: and the domestic relation.

Savage, who was an intimate «>f Thomson's, says he knew no love but
that of the sex. IJnt one could hardly get such an opinion from his works —
certainly not from tin? "Seasons." We see, indeed, that love as presented
by him is not of the highest order ; is, in fact, a little prosaic ; althotigh for
every day wear, a solid, servicea])le sort of article. His women have a cer-
tain robustn<^ss, a blowzy healthfulness about them, which our hiter poets
tacitly deny t(t their highest types. Tliey seem to lack that delicacy, that
simi»le grace, that indefinable charm, with which tlie magic numbers of
Teimyson and Coleridge invest th ir female creation.s.

We give Thomson the highest praise when we say that he is jmrity itself
in comparison with his contemporaries. Here and there may be a lint; in
which a little coarseness is suggested rather than expressed. Yet the " S(;a-
bons " contain no expression that need rai.se the blush of modesty, excei)t in
those tot) easily consci(»us, or of priuient hnagination. His i)ictures of
domestic happiness, and his estimate of the conjugal relation do him honor ;
for th(! i»ublic conscience on these to])ics was not too tender. The comedy
of intrigue, whicli 15eaumont and Fletcher introduced, foimd congenial soil
in the dissolute court of Charles II. It was still common in Thomson's time
for ladies to wear masks when hciaring for the first time a new i)lay. Howe's
*' Eair Penitent," who.se " gay L(»thario " has become a synonym for an un
princii)led rake, was still in the fidl tide of its ifojmlarity. Congreve, who
had defiled the s]>lend(»ur .f his wit in the grossest dialogue, and scoffed at
the sacredness of the marriag(! tie, lived till 1721>. He had produced notiiing
butsonu' miscellMueous poetry sinci' the failure of his " Way of the World "
but he and his i)lays were still famous. Farqidiar died in 1707, while all
London was roaring with delight at his liaaix' Stnitat/fni, the female char-
actei-s of which aie <iuite as free-spoken, if not as frail as those .f Wycherly
or Congreve. Tluj "Provoked Husl)and" of Vanbvugh, was imblished in
the same year as "Winter," and was hardly an in)i)rov(;ment on his last play
"Tlie Provoked Wife," of thirty years before. Since Collier had nuide his
vigorous assault against the immorality of the English stage, had intimi-
dated Dryden and vanriuished Congreve, vho came to its defcmce, there
had been a partial reformation. The essays of Steele and Addison heljjed to
abate tlie nuisance, but the jxiison of th<' Restoration was active for some
time longer. We see it in the novels of Kiehling an<l Smollett ; we see it in

XVI.

LIFE OF THOMSON.

Laurence Sterne, the earliest of tlie Men of Feeliii;^', who may have had fho
"finest sj)irit of whim," but whoso wurkt; proclaim him *i " retined and
sickly blackguard."

CHARACTERISTICS OF HIS STYLE.

WoiinswouTH accuses Thomson of "writing a vicious style." He
means that his verse should be devoid of tawdry ornamtiit andstvelling
phrases, of classical allusions and of harsh inversions, all which accord
but ill with the simi^icity and severity of Nature. To a great extent this
criticism is true. There is a good deal of classical and artificial embroidery
in the "Seasons." In scores of places he imitates, even translates, Virgil. His
frequent personifications are often abrupt, unexpected, and therefore not
natural, as for example, those at the beginning of each " Season." His invo-
cations to the Muse, to Si ring, to Philosojjhy, to this, that and tiit other,
aro endless and wearying. Sometimes, too, by his dedications, and fulsome
flattery, he works u.s into a most unchristian mood, and we almost wish that
some of his ]iatriots had died an untimely death. These faults, and they all
exist, are partly of the man and partly of the imitative, non-original age, in
which he wrote. It must be confessed, however, that while he is engaged
in the pure contemplation of Nature, the luxuriance and redundancy of his
style seem somewhat venial faults. In the moist air and rank vegetation,
in the teeming and humid English climate, this excessive verbal drapery,
like tlie flowing garb of an Oriental, lends to his descriptions a dignity and
a pomp not altogether inappropriate.

But when in the same manner he describes the loves of Palemon and
Lavinia, the fox hunt, the drinking-bout, the rustic revelry of the harvest
home, the effect is disagreeable, sometimes even grotesque in its absurdity.
It is unfortunate for Thomson that he introduces so many episodes, declam-
ations, digressions, and dedications. But it must be remembered that
he was a pioneer, and that it would be too much to expect that he could
keep himself free in all things from the influence of the artificial school,
especially as versifiers were swarming in London, and some of them his
intimates. These parts were probably the most efficient in recommend-
ing the author to general notice, and some critics approve of them as tend-
ing to relieve the tedium of general description.

Dr. Craik characterizes Thomson as "all negligence and nature. So
negligent indeed, that he iK)urs forth his unpremeditated song without the
thought ever occurring to him that he could improve it by any study or ela-
boration." The "Seasons" in its present state is the result of careful and
repeated revision, so much so, that the latest edition as compared with the
first, is almost a new work. But a tasteful and candid critic might see no
harm in a little more pruning and chastening.

Let us here, in conclusion, enumerate the chief mannerisms of our author,
although noticed in their place in the annotations. (1) His free use of

LIFE OP TIIOMSOX.

XVll.

have had (ho
" retined and

style." lie
ai)ds»vellh!g
which accord
sat extent this
al embroidery
es, Virgil. His
therefore not
n." His invo-
iind tilt other,
5, and fulsome
nost wish that
s, and they all
riginal age, in
he is engaged
indancy of his
ik vegetation,
crbal drapery,
a dignity and

•;ffl

adjectives as nouns, and n^uu.s as adjectives. It would seenn quite in-
difftrent to 'IMionison whether he said *' immense serene" or " serene im-
mense." ('2) His cimtinual use of words with their Latin meaning'. (3) His
coining of compounds, some of them not too well formed. (4) His fro((uent
use of absolute constructions. Ail these are due to his classical reading.
(5) His frequen*" alliterations. (G) He doesn't disdain to use such tricks of
phrase as "sees astonished and astonished sings," "gay care," "pleasing
dread." (7) His meaningless turgidity, as "in pure efFusiim flow," "sound
integrity." (8) His often extravagant hyperbole as in A. 527, (U)!). (J)) His
frequent use of metonymy and personification. (10) His frequent and, gener-
ally speaking, unambiguous use of adjectives for adverbs, wiiich sometimes
makes us think that English would be improved by being, in this respect,
just like German.

Other points will no doubt strike the reader as wort' • of note : for in-
stance, (1) Thomson's weakness in scientific knowledge ; and (2) The
almost entire absence from his pages of irony or sarcasm, lunnnur or wit.
For the last two, his cumbrous style would be like the armor of Saul to the
j'outhful David.

Palemon and
of the harvest
its absurdity.
;odes, declam-
embered that
hat he could
tificial school,
of them his
recommend-
them as tend-

nature. So
g without the

study or ela-
of careful and
ared with the

might see no

nf our author,
s free use oi

QUOTATIONS AND PASSAGES
FOR MEMORIZING.

The soloction, it nood hardly bo said, is not autlioritalivo ; Init while no
oneis bound by it, or even ox[)('C'ted to acce[)t it as wholly satisfactory, it is
hoijed that it will hv. found helpful.

AUTUMN.

LI. 122, 177-l.sr), 201 2C(;, 220-230, 298-30(5, 433 2.3G, 002 00!), 903-009,
1032-103G, 1257 1277.

WINTER.

LI. I-IR, 00 71, 217-222, 270-321, 431-435, 545 549, 044 045, 740 751,
859 805, 894 IKX), 1028-1011, 1004-1009.

'1h

1701.

.mI

^^B

'•IB

(}.

"^H

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''^B

:>.

'^B

10.

'^IH

11.

12.

13.

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14.

15.

10.

18.

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20.

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23.

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24.

25.

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28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

3:^.

H^B

35.

tS^^m

30.

37.

38.

xvni.

CHRONOLOGICAL PARALLEL.

TllOMSON'fS LiKK.

;o;), 903-009,

015, 740 751,

70L

3.
4.
0.
7.

10.

11.

12.
13.

Thomson b.

• •

;it .lit|liui;^li .■^chtuil

■ • • • I

14.

15.

10.
18.
19.
20.

21.

23.
24.

25.

20.

27.

2H.

29.
30.

31.

32.

35.
30.

37.
38.

fronn to I<lclin1)ur{^li /
Coll<'}^0 . . (

hi.s fiithor d.

goes to Jjondon . s

Wirdcr

Sntumcr

Spi-ing

Britannia, Sophmu'sha <

4to edition of Scasovit. 1
Autumn . . }

Continentaltftur, Fr. )
Sw. Italy . I

■ • • •

Sec. of liriefs .
Liberty .

In his cottaj?(; at )
Richmond . I

Lost his ]»lace
Agamemnon

Events, Litkkauy and Gknkual.

Drydcn d., Congreve's " W(i>f of the World,"

Act of Scittlenumt.
War of Spanish Succession.
VVi'sley b., The Fair Penitent.
r.lenheim, Locke d., Talc of a Tub.
Ivamilies.

I'nion Act, Farquhar d., The Jieaux'' Stratagem.
Oudenarde.

Malplacjuet, Tatler, Johnson b.
■^achevenill's Trial.
Sjiestator, EKnaii on Criticism.
\Iarlb( >rou^'h dismissed .
Treaty of l^tn^cht, (^<tto, Rape of the Lock,

Shaftesbury d., Stenm b.
Jane Shore, Whitefield d.
The 15, Riot Act, Rowe Laureate, Wycher-

ley d.
Se))terinial Act, Garrick b.. Gray b.
(Quadruple Alliance.
Addison d., Robinson Crusoe.
South Sea Hubbh'.
Prior d., Walpole'.s Ministry, ffist. of our oiim

Times.
Bish(»i) Atterbiiry banished.
Drapier Letters.
Tope's Iliad and Odyssey completed, The Gentle

Shepherd.
Oulliver^s Travels.
Newton d.
Goldsmith b.
Conpreve d.. The Dunciad, The Wanderer,

The Methodists at Oxford.

Col ley Gibber Laureate, Burke b.

Defoe d., Cow'ijer b.

Gayd.

K.-siiy on Man, Walpole's Fxciae Bill.

The Wesleys accomp. OglethoriK? to Georgia.

}Tumt''s Treatise on Human Nature.
Whitefirld in America.
xix.

75»^

XX.

ClIRONOLOrJICAL PAUALLKL.

CHRONOLOGICAL TARAJaLEL-Contimud.

Thomson's Life.

EVKNTS, LiTKKAUY AND GkNKUAL.

40.

41.

42.
43.
44.
45.

46.

48.

49.

Edward and Elcanora \
Masque of Alfred .

• • • • I

• • • •

visitinpr at Haglcy .
S. G. of Leeward Isles
Tancrcd and Siyis- )

munda ' . . )
Auth. Version of)

S<'ason8 . J

Castle of Irulolence \

in May ; died in >

August . . j
Cwiolanus

W»'.sl«!y'wreal conversion, begins his Itinerancy,

War with Sj)ain.
Pamela, Wesley and Whitefield separate.
Tl haistrcss, Joseph Andrews^ Hume'a

i „2/s.
Resignation of Walpole.
J )ettingen.
Pope d. , The Night Thoughts.

Swift d., Walix)lc d., Fontenoy.

Ode on the Passions, Culloden.

Roderick Random, Clarissa Harlowe, Treaty
of Aix-la-Chai3elle.

Vanity of Human Wishes, Irene.

THE SEASONS.

BNBUAL.

lis Itinerancy,

separate.
Irews, Hume'fl

irlowo, Treaty

AUTUMN.

Cuown'd with tlie sickle and the whcatoii sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Conies jovial on, the Doric reod once more.
Well ploas'd, T tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
Nitrous propar'd — the vai'ious-blossomed Spring
Put in white promise forth — the Summer suns
Concoc't(!d strong —rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.

Dedication.

Onslow ! the muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, inspirt;, and dignify her song,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
Awhile engage. Thy noble care she knows,
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow ;
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving through the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song.
But she too pants for public virtue : she.
Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.

The Fiel 's Ready for Harvest.

When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra veighs in equal scales the year.

5 THE SEASONS.

From lnvivon's hii^fi cope tlio fiorcn cfTulgcnce shook

Of p.'irtiiii^ Suinnuir, a scn;nor blue,

With gokU;ii light enliveii'd, wide invests

The h!i})i)y world. Attemper'd suns arise,

Sweot-htNun'd, and sh(!(lding oft, through lucid clouds,

A pleasing calm; wliile, broad and brown, below, go

Extensive harvests hang tiie heavy head.

Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a galo

liolls its liglit billows o'er the bending plain ;

A calm of plenty ! till the ruliled air

Falls from its poise, and gives tlie breeze to blow.

Uent is the ileecy mantle of the sky ;

The clouds lly dillerent ; and the sudden sun

By iits eliulgent gilds th' illumin'd field ;

And black by tits the shadows sweep along.

A gaily-che<juer'd, heart-expanding view, ^

Far as the circling eye can shoot around,

Unbounded tossing in a tlood of corn.

i ' i

Industry and its Effects.

These are thy blessings, Industry ! rough power 1
Whom labor still attends, and sweat, and pain ;
Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life :
Raiser of human kind ! by Nature cast,
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
And wilds, to rude inclement elements ;
With various seeds of art deep in the mind
Implanted — and profusely pour'd around
Materials infinite ; but idle all.
Still unexertnd, in the unconscious breast,
►Slept the lethargic powers : corruption still,
Voracious, .swallow'd what the liberal hand
Of bounty scatter'd o'er tfie savage year; ■

AUTUMN.

And still tlio sHfl baiWai'iaii, roviii*;, juix'd

With boasts of proy ; or, toi" his aconi iiuial,

Fought tlu? ficu'cc tusky l)<)ar. A shivt!i*iii<^ wn^teh !

Af^hast and eonit'oi'tlcss, whon tlu? hUiak north,

With wintor (;har^'d, lot tho niix'd t(Mnpost lly,

I Fail, rain, and snow, and bittor-bi'oathin*^ tVost.

TIhmi to tho sholtor of tho hut ho llod,

And tho wild si^ason, sordid, pin'd away ;

For lioino ho had not : iionio is th(? i<»sort

Of \o\i% of joy, of peace?, and pU^nty, wh(M'(i,

Suppoi'tin^' and supportod, polish'd frionds

And doar reflations inii)<^le into bliss.

lUit this tho ru<(^od sava<^o novor folt,

Ev(?n dosolato in crowds ; and thus his days

lioll'd hoavy, dark, and unenjoy'd, alon<^ ;

A wasto of time ! till industry approach'd,

And rous'd him from his miserable sloth ;

jiis faculties unfolded ; pointed out

W^here lavish Nature the directing hand

Of art demamled ; showed liim how to raise

His feeble force by tho meclianic powers;

To dig the mineral from the vaulted earth ;

On what to turn the piercing rag(? of fire.

On what tho torrent and tlie gathor'd l)last ;

Gave the tall ancient forest to his axe ;

Taught him to cliip tho wood and liew the stone,

Till, by degrees, tlie iinish'd fal)ric rose ;

Tore from his limbs the blood-polluted fur.

And wrapt them in tlie woolly vestment warm.

Or bright in glossy silk, and flowing lawn ;

With wholesome viands till'd his table ; })our'd

The generous glass around, inspir'd to wake

The life-relining soul of decent wit ;

Nor stopp'd at barren bare necessity ;

(10

THF SEASONS

But still, advancing bolder, led him on
To pomp, to pleasure, elegance, and grace ;
And, breathing high ambition through his soul.
Set science, wisdom, glory, in his view.
And bade him be the lord of all below.

Then gathering men their natural powers combin'd,
And form'd a public ; to the general good
Submitting, aiming, and conducting all.
For this the patriot council met, the full,
The free, and fairly represented whole. jq^

For this they plann'd the holy guardian laws,
Distinguish'd orders, animated arts.
And, with joint force oppression chaining, set
Imperial justice at the helm — yet still
To them accountable ; nor slavish dream'd
That toilins: millions nmst resii;n their weal.
And all the honey of their search, to such
As for themselves alone themselves have rais'd.

Hence every form of cultivated life
In order set, protected, and inspir'd, jj|

Into perfection wrought. Uniting all.
Society grew numerous, high, polite.
And happy. Nurse of art, the city rear'd
In beauteous pride her tower-encircled head ;
And, stretching strebt on street, by thousands drew.
From twining woody haunts, or tlie tough yew
To bows strong-straining, her aspiring sons.

Then Commerce brought into the public walk
The busy merchant ; the big warehouse built ; f

Rais'd the strong crane ; chok'd up the loaded street ioq

With foreign plenty ; and thy stream, O Thames,
Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of Hoods '
Cliose for his grand resort. On either hand,
Likfc» a long wintry forest, gi-oves of masts

AUTUMN.

Shot up thftir spires : the bellying sheet between,

Possess'd the breezy void : the sooty hulk

Steer'd sluggish on : the splendid barge alopg

Row'd regular to harmony : around,

The ' 'Oat, light skimming, stretch'd its oary wings ;

While deep the various voice of fervent toil 130

From bank to bank increas'd ; whence, ribb'd with oak,

To bear the British thunder, black and bold,

Itie roaring vessel rush'd into the main.

Tl en, too, the pillar'd dome, magnitic, heav'd
Its ample roof ; and luxury within
Pour'd out her glittering stores : the canvas smooth
With glowing life protuberant, to the view
Embodied rose : the stjitue seem'd to breathe,
And soften into flesh, beneath the touch
Of forming art, imagination-flush'd. np

All is the gift of Industry ; whate'er
Exalts, embellishes, and renders life
Delightfiif. Pensive Winter, cheer'd ijy him,
Sits at the social fire, and happy hears
Th' excluded tempest idly rave along.
His harden'd fingers deck the gaudy Spring.
Without him, Summer were an arid waste ;
Nor to tlie autumnal months could thus transmit
Those full, mature, immeasurable stores,
That, waving round, recall my wandering song. 1^

Reaping.

Soon as the morning trem})les o'er the sky,
And, unperceiv'd, unfolds the spreading Hay,
Before the ripen'd field the reapers stand
In fair array ; each by the lass he loves,
To bear the rougher part, and mitigate
By nameless gentle oflices her toil.

THE SEASONS.

At once they stoop, and swell the lusty slieaves :
While through their cheerful band the rural talk,
The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
Fly harmless, to deceive the tedious time,
And steal unfelt the sultry hours away.
Behind, the master walks, builds up the shocks
And, conscious, glancing oft on every side
His sated eye, feels his heart heave with joy.
The gleaners spread around, and here and tliere,
Spike after spikcj, their scanty harvest pick.

Be not too narrow, husb.'indmen ! but fling
From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth.
The liberal handful. Think, oh grateful tiiink !
How good the God of Harvest is to you ;
Who pours abundance o'er your liowing fields ;
While those unhappy partners of your kind
Wide hover round you, like the iowh of heaven,
And ask their humble dole. The various turns
Of fortune ponder ; that your sons may want
What now, with hard reluctance, faint, ye givft

ItM

The Story of Lavinia and Palemon.

The lovely young Lavinia once had friends ;
And foi'tune smil'd, d(^ceitful, on her birth ;
For, in her luilpless years, depriv'd of all.
Of every stay, save innociince and Heaven,
She, with her widow'd motlier, feeble, old,
And poor, liv'd in a cottage, far retir'd
Among the windings of a woody vale.
By solitude and deep surrounding shades.
But more by bashful modesty, conceal'd.
Together thus they shunn'd the cruel scorn
Which viitue, sunk to j)overty, would nwot
From giddy passion and low-minded piide ;

AUTUMN.

Almost oil Nature's coimiion bouiity fed,

Like tlu^ i;:iy birds tliat sung tlieiii to r(!|)ose,

Content, and careless of to-niorrow's fare.

Her form was fresher than the morning rose.

When the dew wets its leaves ; unstain'd and pure,

As is the lily, or the mountain-snow.

The modest virtues mingled in lun- eyes,

Still on the ground dejected, darting all

Their humid beams into the blooming flowers ;

Or, when the mournful tale her mother told,

Of what her faithless fortune proniis'd once,

Thrill'd in her thought, tiiey, like the dewy star

Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace

Sat fail* proportion'd on her polish'd limbs,

Veil'd in a simi)le robe, their best attire,

lleyond the pomp of dri^ss ; for loveliness

Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,

l>ut is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most.

Tliouglitless of l)eauty, she was beauty's self,

llecluse amid the close-embowering woods.

As, in the hollow l^reast of Apennine,

lieneatli tlu; slielter of encircling hills,

A myrtle rises, far from human eye,

And bi'j'athes its l)almy fragrance o'er the; wild ;

So llourish'd, blooming, and unseen by all,

The sweet Lavinia ; till, at length, coinpell'd

By strong necessity's supreme command.

With smiling patiences in her looks, slie went

To gl(Min Palemon's lields. The pride of swains

Palemon was, the geiuu'ous, mikI th(^ ricii.

Who led tiie rural lif(^ in all its joy

And (Hc^iiance, such as Arcadian soiii;

Transmits from ancient, uncorrupUul times,

When tyrant custom liad not sluickled man,

100

200

TliK SEASONS.

111

But free to follow nature was the mode.
He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes
Amusinj^, chanc'd beside his reaper train
To walk, wlien poor Lavinia drew his eye.
Unconscious of h(;r power, and turning quick
With unaiiectod blushes from his gaze,
He saw hei charming, but lie saw not h-.iU
Tlui cliarms her d(jwncast modesty conceal'd.
Tliat very nu^ment, love and chaste desire
Sprung in his bosom, to himself unknown ;
For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh
Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn,
Should liis heart own a gleaner in the field ;
And tlius in secret to his soul he sighed :

" What pity ! that so delicate a form,
By beauty kindled, where enlivening sense
And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell,
Should be devoted to the rude embrace
Of some indecent clown ! She looks, methinks,
Of old Acasto's line ; and to my mind
Recalls that patron of my happy iifoj
From whon^. my liberal fortune took its rise ;
Now to the dust gone down ; his houses, lands,
And once fair-spreading family, dissolv'd.
'Tis said that in some lone obscure retreat,
Urg'd by remembrance sad, and decent pride.
Far from those scenes which knew their better days
His aged widow and his daught-er live,
Whom yet my fruitless seai'ch could never find.
Romantic wish ! would this the daughter were !

When, strict imiuiring, from herself he found
She was th(; same, the daughter of his friend.
Of l)ountiful Acasto, who can speak
The mingled passions tliat surpris'd his heart.

281

240

260

AUTUMN.

And through his nerves, in shivering trans})()i't nm?
Then blaz'd his smother'd flame, avow'd and bold ;
And, as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er,
Love, gratitude, and pity, wept at on'o.
Confus'd, and frighten'd, at liis sudden teai's,
Her rising beauties flusli'd a higher bloom.
As thus Palemon, passionate and just,
Pour'd out the pious rapture of his soul :

"And art thou then Acasto's dear remains ;
She wliom my restless gi'atitude has sought
So long in vain ? O yes ! the very same.
The soften'd image of my noble friend,
Alive, his every look, his every feature,
More elegantly toucli'd. Sweeter than Spring !
Thou sole surviving blossom from the root
That nourish'd up my fortune ! Say, ah where,
In that sequester'd desert, hast thou drawn
The kindest aspect of delighted heaven.
Into such beauty spread, and blown so fair,
Though poverty's cold wind and crushing rain
Beat keen and heavy on thy tender years ?
Oh let me now into a richer soil,
Transplant thee safe, where vernal suns and show(M>
Diffuse their warmest, largest influence ;
And of my garden be the pride and joy !
It ill befits theo, oh ! it ill befits
Acasto's daughter, his whose open stores,
Though vast, were little to his ampler heart,
The father of a country, thus to pick
The very refuse of those harvest fields
Which from his bounteous friendship I onjoy.
Then throw that sliameful pittance from thy h.irid.
But ill-applied to such a rugged task !
The fields, the master, all, my fair, are tiiine.

260

27«

28C

vw^

THE SEASONS,

If to the various bl<\ssiii<^^s which tliy lioiise
Has on me lavisli'd, tJiou wilt add that bliss,
That deanjst bliss, the power of blessing tlu^e ! "

Here ceas'd the youth ; yet still liis speaking c^ye
Express'd tlie sacred triumph of liis soul,
With conscious virtue, gratitude, and lov(»,
A])ov(i the vulgar joy divinely I'ais'd.
Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm
Of goodness irresistible, and all

In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent ; 300

The news innnediate to her motlier brought,
While, pierc'd witli anxious thought, she pin'd away
The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate.
Amazed, and scarce believing what slie heard,
Joy seiz'd her wither'd veins ; and one bright ghvam
Of setting life shone on lier evening hour's,
Not less enraptur'd than the happy paii'.
Who flourish'd long in tender bliss, and rear'd
A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves,
And good, tli(^ grace of all tiic country round. 310

A Storm in Harvest.

Defeating oft the labours of the year,
The sultry south collects a potent blast.
Ac first, the gi-oves are scarcely seen to stir
Tlieir trembling tops ; and a still murmur runs
Alon<r the soft-inclining fields of corn.
I>ut as the aerial tempest fuller swells,
And in one mighty stream, invisible,
ImuKMise, the wliole excited atmosphero
Impetuous rushes o'er the sounding world,
Strained to the root, the stooping forc^st })ours o^y

A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves.
High-beat, the circling mountains eddy in,

AUTUMX.

300

way

ail)

310

32(J

Ffoiii the bare wild, the dissipated storm,

And send it in a torrent down the vale.

Expos'd, and naked, to its utmost rage.

Through all the sea of harvest rolling round,

The billowy plain floats wide, nor can evade,

Though pliant to the blast, its seizing force ;

Or whirled in air, or into vacant chaff"

Shook waste. And, sometimes, too, a burst of rain sso

Swept from the black horizon, broad, descends

In one continuous flood. Still over head

The mingled tempest weaves its gloom, and still

The deluge deepens, till the fields around

Lie sunk, and flatted, in the sordid wave.

Sudden, the ditches swell, the meadows swim.

Red, from the hills, innumerable streams

Tumultous roar, and high above its banks

The river lift ; before whose rushing tide,

Herds, flocks, and harvests, cottages, and swains, no

Roll mingling down ; all that the winds had spar'd.

In one wild moment ruin'd; the big hopes

And well-earn'd treasures of the painful year.

Fled to some eminence, the husbandman

Helpless beholds the miserable wreck

Driving along : his drowning ox at once

Descending, with his labours scatter'd round,

He sees ; and instant o'er his shivering thouglit

Comes winter unprovided, and a train

Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, then, jj,f,

Be mindful of the rough laborious hand,

That sinks you soft in elegance and ease.

Be mindful of those limbs in russet clad,

Whose toil to yours is warmth, and gracnful pridn ;

And, oh be mindful of that sparing board,

Which covers yours with luxury profuse.

THE SEASONS.

Makes your glass sparkle, and your sense rejoice ;
Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains
And all-in'^olving winds have swept away.

Description of Shooting ; Its Cruelty.

Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy,
The gun fast- thundering, and the winded horn,
Would tempt the muse to sing the rural game :
How, in his mid-career, the spaniel, struck
Stifl", by the tainted gale, with open nose.
Outstretched, and finely sensible, draws full,
Fearful, and cautious, on the latent prey.
As in the sun the circling covey bask
Their varied plumes, and, watchful every way,
Through the rough stubble turn the secret eye.
Caught in the meshy snare, in vain they beat
Their idle wings, entangled more and more ;
Nor on the surges of the boundless air,
Though borne triumphant, are they safe : the gun,
Glanc'd just and sudden from the fowler's eye,
O'ertakes their sounding pinions, and again.
Immediate brings them from the towering wing.
Dead to the ground, or drives them wide-dispers'd,
Wounded, and wheeling, various down the wind.

These are not subjects for the peaceful muse.
Nor will she stain with such her spotless song.
Then most delighted, when she social sees
The whole mix'd animal creation round
Alive and happy. 'Tis not joy to lier.
This falsely cheerful, barbarous gamo of death ;
This rage of pleasure, which the rest^ s youth
Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn
When beasts of prey retire, that, all night long,
Urg'd by necessity, had rang'd the dark,

860

370

880

AUTUMN.

As if tlieir conscious ravage shunn'd the light,
Asham'd. Not so the steady tyrant, man,
Wlio, with the thoughtless insolence of power
Inflam'd, beyond the most infuriate wrath
Of the worst monster that e'er roara'd the waste,
For sport alone pursues the cruel chase,
Amid the beaming of the gentle days.
Upbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage,
For hunger kindles you, and lawless want,
But, lavisli fed, in Nature's bounty roll'd,
To joy at anguish, and delight in blood.
Is what your horrid bosoms never knew.

The Chase of the Hare.

Poor is the triumph o'er the timid Iiare,
Scar'd from the corn, and now to some lone seat
lletir'd ; the rushy fen ; the ragged furze
Stretch'd o'er the stony heath ; the stubble chapp'd
The thistly lawn ; the thick-entangled broom ;
Of the same fi-iendly hue, the wither'd fern ;
The fallow ground laid open to the sun,
ConcGctive ; and the nodding sandy bank,
Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain brook.
Vain is her best precaution, though she sits
Conceal'd, with folded ears, unsleeping eyes.
By Nature rais'd to take the horizon in,
And head couch'd close betwixt her hairy feet,
In act to spring away. The scented dew
Betrays her early labyrinth ; and deep.
In scatter'd, sullen openings, far behind.
With every breeze she hears the coming storm.
But nearer, and more frequent, as it loads
The sighing gale, she springs amaz'd, and all
The savage soul of game is up at once :

800

400

410

420

THE SEASONS.

The pack full-opening, various ; the shrill horn
Resounded from the hills ; the neighing steed,
Wild for tlie chase ; and the loud Imnter's shout
O'er a weak, harmless, flying creature ; all
Mix'd in mad tumult and discordant joy.

The Chase of the Sta^.

The stag, too, singled from the herd, where long
He rang'd the branching monarch of the shades.
Before the tempest drives. At first in speed
He, sprightly, puts his faith ; and, rous'd by fear,
Gives all his swift aerial soul to flight.
Against the breeze he darts, that way the more
To leave the lessening murderous cry behind.
Deception short ! though fleeter than the winds
Blown o'er the keen-air'd mountain by the north.
He bursts the thickets, glances through the glades,
And plunges deep into the wildest wood ;
If slow, yet sure, adhesive to the track
Hot steaming, up behind him come again
The inhuman rout, and from the shady depth
Expel him, circling through his every shift.
He sweeps the forest oft, and sobbing sees
The glades, mild opening to the golden day,
Where, in kind contest, with his butting friends
He wont to struggle, or his loves enjoy.
Oft in the full-descending flood he tries
To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides ;
Oft seeks the herd : the watchful herd, alarm'd.
With selfish care avoid a brother's woe.
What shall he do ? His once so vivid nerves,
So full of buoyant spirit, now no more.
Inspire the course ; but fainting breathless toil,
Sick, seizes on his heart : he stands at bay,

430

440

460

AUTUMN.

And puts his last weak i'efu<,'e in despair.

The bii^ round tears run down liis dappled face.

Tie L,n'oans in ani^uish ; while the growling pack,

Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest,

And mark his beauteous chequer'd sides with gore,

Of this enough. ]^ut if the sylvan youth.
Whose fervent blood boils into violence.
Must have the cliase, behold, despising flight,
The rous'd-up lion, resolute and slow,
Advancing full on the protended spear,
And coward-band that, circling, wheel aloof.
Slunk from the cavern and tlie troubled wood.
See the grim wolf : on him his shaggy foe
Vindictive lix, and let the ruffian die ;
Or, growling horrid, as the brindled boar
Grins fell destruction, to the monster's heart
Let the dart lighten from the nervous arm.

400

The Chase of the Fox.

These Britain knows not : give, ye Britons, then, 470

Your sportive fury, pitiless, to pour
Loose on the nightly robber of the fold.
Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearth 'd.
Let all the thunder of the chase pursue.
Throw the broad ditch behind you : o'er the hedge
High bound, resistless ; nor the deep morass
Refuse, but through the shaking wilderness
Pick your nice way : into the perilous flood
Bear fearless, of the raging instinct full ;
And, as you ride the torrent, to the banks, 430

Your triumph sound sonorous running round.
From rock to rock, in circling echoes toss'd.
Then scale the mountains to their woody tops*,
Rush down the dangerous steep ; and o'er the lawn,

THE SEASONS.

Ill fancy swallowing up the space between,
Pour all your speed into the rapid game,
For happy he who tops the wheeling chase ;
Has every maze evolv'd, and every guile
Disclos'd ; who knows the merits of the pack ;
Who saw the villain seiz'd and dying hard,
Without complaint, though by an hundred mouths
Relentless torn : oh glorious he, beyond
His daring peers ! when the retreating horn
Calls them to ghostly halls of grey renown,
With woodland honours grac'd ; the fox's fur,
Depending decent from the roof ; and spread
Round the drear walls, with antic figures tierce,
Th(! stag's large front : he then is loudest heard,
When the night staggers with severer toils.
With feats Thessalian centaurs never knew,
And their repeated wonders shake the dome.

The Pox-Hunters* Evening.

But first the fuel'd chimney blazes wide.
The tankards foam : and the strong table groans
Beneath the smoking sirloin, stretch'd immense
From side to side ; in which, with desperate knife,
They deep incision make, and tt ^' the while
Of England's glory, ne'er to be defac'd,
While hence they borrow vigour : or amain
Into the pasty plung'd, at intervals.
If stomach keen can intervals allow,
Relating all the glories of the chase.
Then sated hunger bids his brother thirst
Produce the mighty bowl : the mighty bowl
Swell'd high with fiery juice, steams liberal round
A potent gale, delicious as the breath
Of Maia to the love-sick shepherdess,

490

500

610

AUTUMN.

Oil violets (lifTusVI, wliilo soft she hoars

Her panting shcphcM-rl stealing to her arms.

Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn,

Mature and perfect, from his dark retreat 520

Of thirty years ; and now his honest front

Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid

Even with the vineyard's best produce to vie.

To cheat the thirsty moments, whist awhile

Walks his dull round, ])(>neath a cloud of .smoke,

Wreath'd, fragrant, from the pipe ; or the (juick dice

In thunder leaping from the box, awake

The sounding ganmion ; while romp-loving miss

Is haul'd about, in gallantry robust.

At last, these puling idlenesses laid 550

Aside, frequent and full, the dry divan
Close in firm circle, and set, ardent, in
For serious drinking. Nor evasion sly,
Nor sober shift, is to the puking wretch
Indulg'd apart ; but earnest, brimming bowls
Lave every soul, the table floating round,
And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot.
Thus, as they swim in mutual sv/ill, the talk,
Vociferous at once from twenty tongues.
Reels fast from theme to theme ; from horses, hounds, 640
To church or mistress, politics or ghost.
In endless mazes, intricate, perplex'd.
Meantime, with sudden interruption, loud,
Th' impatient catch bursts from the joyous heart.
That moment, touch'd is each congenial roul ;
And, opening in a full-mouth'd cry of joy,
The laugh, the slap, the jocund curse, go round ;
While, from their slumbers shook, the kennel'd hounds
Mix in the music of the day again.
As when the tempest, that has vex'd the deep ^^

THE SEASONS.

The dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls,

So gradual sinks their mirth. Their feeble tongues,

Unable to take up the cumbrous word,

Lie quite dissolv'd. Before their maudlin eyes,

Seen dim and blue, the double tapers dance,

Like the sun wading through the misty sky.

Then, sliding soft, they drop. Confus'd above,

Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazetteers.

As if the table even itself was drunk,

Lie, a wet broken scene ; and wide, below,

Is heap'd the social slaughter', where astride

The lubber power in filthy triumph sits.

Slumbrous, inclining still from side to side.

And steeps them drench'd in potent sleep till mom.

Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch,

Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink,

Outlives them all ; and from his buried flock,

Retiring, full of rumination sad,

Laments the weakness of these latter times.

660

The Evening Occupations of "Women.

But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport
Is hurried wild, let not such horrid joy
E'er stain the bosom of the British fair.
Far be the spirit of the chase from them !
Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill.
To spring the fence, to rein the.prancing stot'd,
The cap, the whip, the masculine attire ;
In which they roughen to the sense, and all
Tlie winning softness of tlieir sex is lost.
In then\ 'tis graceful to dissolve at woe ;
With every motion, every word, to wave
Quick o'er the kindling cheek the ready blusli ;
And from the su»allest violence to shrink,

670

680

AUTUMX.

Unequal, then the loveliest in their fears —

And by this silent adulation, soft,

To their protection more en^ai^ing man.

Oh may their eyes no miserabh; sight,

Save weeping lovers, see ! a nobler game.

Through love's enchanting wiles pursued, yet fled.

In chase ambiguous, May their tender limbs

Float in the loose simplicity of dress,

And, fashion'd all to harmony, alone

Know they to seize the captivated soul,

In rapture warbled from love-breathing lips ;

To teach the lute to languish ; with smooth step,

Disclosing motion in its every charm,

To swim along, and swell the mazy dance;

To train the foliage o'er the snowy lawn ;

To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page;

To lend new flavour to the; fruitful year.

And heighten nature s dainties ; in their race

To rear their graces into second life ;

To give society its highest taste ;

Well-order'd home man's best delight to make ;

And, by submissive wisdom, mod(!st skill,

With every gentle care-eluding art,

To raise the virtues, animate the bliss.

Even charm the pains to something morc^ than joy

And sweeten all the toils of human life.

This be the femah^ dignity and praise.

190

«oo

A View of an Orchard.

Ye swains, now hasten to the hazel-bank.
Where, down yon vah^, the wildly winding brook
Falls hoarse from steep to steep. In close array
Fit for the thickets and the tangling shrul),
Ye virgins, coun\ For you their latest song

010

IjiMi

THE SEASONS.

The woodlands raise : the clustering nuts for you
The lover linds amid the secret shade ;
Ahd, where they burnish on the topmost bough,
With active vigour crushes down the tree,
Or shakes them ripe from the resigning husk,
A glossy shower, and of an ardent brown,
Ab are the ringlets of Melinda's hair ;
Melinda, formed with every grace complete,
Yet these neglecting, above beauty wise,
And far transcending such a vulgar praise.

Hence from the busy joy-resounding lields.
In cheerful error, let us tread the maze
Of Autumn, unconfin'd, and taste, reviv'd,
The breath of orchard big with bending fruit.
Obedient to the breeze and beating ray.
From the deep-loaded bough a mellow shower
Incessant melts away. The juicy pear
Lies, in a soft profusion, scatter'd round.
A various sweetness swells the gentle race.
By nature's all-refining hand prepar'd ;
Of temper'd sun, and water, earth, and air.
In ever-changing composition mix'd.
Such, falling frequent tlirough the chiller night,
The fragrant stores, the wide-^ vqjected heaps
Of apples, which the lusty-handed year,
Innumerous, o'er tlie blushing orchard sliakos.
A various spirit, fresh, delicious, keen,
Dv/ells in their gelid pores, and, active, points
The piercing cider for the thirsty tongue :
Thy native theme, and boon inspirer too,
Phillips, Pomona's bard, the second thou
Who nobly durst, in rhyme-uufetter'd verse,
Witli British freedom sing tlie British song :
How, from Silurian vats, high-sparkling wines

620

630

640

AUTUMN. 21

Foam in transparent floods ; some strong, to cheer

Tlie wintry revels of tlie labouring liincl ; 350

And tasteful some, to cool the summer hours.

Bub Dodington's Seat in Dorset.

In this glad season, while his sweetest beams
The sun sheds equal o'er the meeken'd day,
Oh lose me in the green delightful walks
Of, Dodington ! thy seat, serene and plain,
Where simple nature reigns, and every view,
Diffusive spreads the pure Dorsetian downs,
In boundless prospect, yonder, shagg'd with wood,
Here rich with harvest, and there white with flocks.
Meantime, the grandeur of thy lofty dome, g^o

Far-splendid, seizes on the ravished eye.
New beauties rise with each revolving day ;
New columns swell ; and still the fresh Spring finds
New plants to quicken, and new groves to green.
Full of thy genius all ! che muses' seat,
"Where, in the secret bower and winding walk,
For virtuous Young and thee they twine the bay.
Here, wandering oft, fir'd with the restless thirst
Of thy applause, I solitary court

Th' inspiring breeze, and meditate the book ^q

Of nature ever open ; aiming thence,
Warm from the heart, to learn the moral song.
Here, as I steal along the sunny wall,
Where Autumn basks, with fruit empurpled deep,
My pleasing theme continual prompts my thought ;
Presents the downy poach, the shining plum,
With a fine bluish mist of animals
Clouded ; the ruddy nectarine ; and dark,
Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious tig.
The vine, too, here her curling tendrils shoots ; mo

THE SEASONS.

i i

Hangs out her clusters, glowing, to the south ;
And scarcely wishes for a warmer sky.

Picture of a Vineyard.

Turn we, a moment, fancy's rapid flight
To vigorous soils, and climes of fair extent,
Where, by the potent sun elated high.
The vineyard swells refulgent on the day,
Spreads o'er the vale, or up the mountain climbs,
Profuse, and drinks, amid the sunny rocks,
From cliff to cliff increas'd, the heighten'd blaze.
Low bend the weighty boughs. The clusters clear,
Half through the foliage seen, or ardent flame,
Or shine transparent ; while perfection breathes
White o'er the turgent film the living dew.
As thus they brighten with exalted juice,
Touch'd into flavour by the mingling ray.
The rural youth and virgins o'er the field,
Each fond for each to cull th' autumnal prime,
Exulting rove, and speak the vintage nigh.
Then comes the crushing swain : the country florets,
And foams unbounded with the mashy flood.
That, by degi'ocs fermented and refin'd,
Round the rais'd nations pours the cup of joy :
The claret smooth, red as the lip we press
In sparkling fancy, while we drain the bowl ;
The mellow-tasted burgundy ; and, quick
As is the wit it gives, the gay champagne.

Autumn Fogs.

Now, by tlie cool, declining year condens'd.
Descend the copious exhalations, check'd
As up the middle sky unseen they stole.
And roll the doubling fogs around the liill.

690

TOO

710

AUTUMN.

No inon; the mountain, horrid, vast, sublime,
Who pours a sweep of rivers from his sides,
And high between contending kingdoms rears
The rocky long division, tills the view
With great variety ; but in a night
Of gathering vapour, from the ballled sense
Sinks dark and dreary. Thence expanding far,
The huge dusk, gradual, swallows up the plain.
Vanish the woods. The dim-seen river seems
Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave.
E'en in the height of noon oppress'd, the sun
Sheds weak and blunt his wide-refracted ray ;
Whence glaring oft, with many a broaden'd orb,
He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth.
Seen through the turbid air, beyond the life
Objects appear ; and, wilder'd, o'er the waste
The shepherd stalks gigantic ; till at last
Wreath'd dun around, in deopei" i-irclos still
Successive closing, sits the general fog
Unbounded o'er the world ; and, mingling thick,
A formless grey confusion covers all ;
As when, of old (so sung the Hebrew bard)
Light, uncollected, through the chaos urg'd
Its infant way ; nor order yet had drawn
His lovely train from out the dubious gloom.

720

780

The Origin of Springs and Rivera.

These roving mists, that constant now begin
To smoke along the hilly country, these,
With weighty rains, and melted Alpine snows,
The mountain cisterns fill, those ample stores
Of water, scoop'd among the hollow rocks ;
Whence gush the streams, the ceaseless fountains play,
And their unfailing wealth the rivers draw.

7<u

THE SKASONS.

is :

1«

Some sages say that, where the numerous wave

For ever lashes the resounding shore,

Drill'd through the sandy stratum, every way,

The waters with the sandv stratum rise :

Amid whose angles infinitely strain'd.

They joyful leave their jaggy salts behind,

And clear and sweeten, as they soak along.

Nor stops the restless fluid, mounting still, 750

Though oft amidst th' irriguous vale it springs ;

But to the mountain courted by the sand,

That leads it darkling on in faithful maze,

Far from the parent main, it boils again

Fresh into day ; and all the glittering hill

Is bright with spouting rills. But hence this vain

Amusive dream ! why should the wateis love

To take so far a journey to the hills.

When the sweet valleys Ter to tlieir toil

Inviting quiet, and a nearer bed ? 76O

Or if, by blind ambition led astray.

They must aspire, why should they sudden stop

Among the broken mountain's rushy dells,

And, ere they gain its highest peak, desert

Th' attractive sand that charm'd their course so long ?

Besides, the hard agglomerating salts.

The spoil of ages, would impervious choke

Their secret channels, or, by slow degrees.

High as the hills protrude the swelling vales.

Old Ocean too, suck'd through the porous globe, 770

Had long ere now forsook his horrid bed.

And brought Deucalion's watery times agnin.

Say, then, where lurk the vast eternal springs.
That, like creating nature, lie conceal'd
From mortal eye, yet with their lavish stores
Refresh the globe, and all its joyous tribes ?

AUTUMN-

O thou pervading genius, given to man,

To trace tlie secrets of the dark al)yss,

Oh, lay the mountains bare ; and wide display

Their hidden structure to tlie astonish'd view !

Strip from the branching Alps their piny load ;

The huge incumbrance of liorrilic woods

From Asian Taurus, from Imaus stretch'd

Athwart the roving Tartar's sullen bounds.

Give opening Huemus to my searching eye.

And high Olympus pouring many a stream.

Oh, from the sounding summits of the nortli,

The Dofrine hills, through Scandinavia roll'd

To farthest Lapland and the frozen main ;

From lofty Caucasus, far seen by those

Who in the Caspian and black Euxino toil ;

From cold Riphean rocks, wliich the wild Russ

Believes the stony girdle of the world ;

And all the dreadful mountains, wrapt in storm,

Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods —

Oh, sweep th' eternal snows ! Hung o'er the deep,

That ever works beneath his sounding base

Bid Atlas, propping Iieaven, as poets feign,

His subterranean wonders spread. Unveil

The miny caverns, blazing on the day

Of Abyssinia's cloud compelling cliffs.

And of the bending Mountains of the Moon.

O'ertopping all these giant sons of earth.

Let the dire Andes, from the radiant Line

Stretch'd *' i the stormy seas that thunder round

The southern pole, their hideous deeps unfold !

Amazing scene ! Behold ! the glooms disclose :

I see the rivers in their infant beds ;

Deep, deep, I hear them labouring Lo get free.

I see the leaning strata, artful rang'd ;

780

800

TliE SEASONS

The gaping fissures to receive the rains,

The melting snows, and ever-dripping fogs.

Strew'd bibulous above, I see the sands,

The pebbly gravel next, the layers then

Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths,

The gutter'd rocks and mazy-running clefts,

That, while the stealing moisture they transmit,

Retard its motion, and forbid its waste.

Beneath the incessant weeping of these drains,

I see the rocky siphons stretch'd immense.

The mighty reservoirs of harden'd chalk,

Or stiff compacted clay, capacious form'd.

O'erflowing thence, the congregated stores,

The crystal treasures of the liquid world.

Through the stirr'd sands a bubbling passage burst,

And, welling out around the middle steep.

Or from the bottoms of the bosom'd hills.

In pure effusion flow. United, thus.

The exhaling sun, the vapour-burthen'd air,

The gelid mountains, that, to rain condens'd.

These vapours in continual current draw,

And send them, o'er the fair-divided earth.

In bounteous rivers to the deep again,

A social commerce hold, and firm support

The full-adjusted harmony of things.

820

830

ii'^

Minatory Birds and their Resorts.

When Autumn scatters liis departing gleams,
Warn'd of approaching Winter, gather'd, play
The swallow-people ; and, toss'd wide around.
O'er the calm sky, in convolution swift
The feathered eddy floats, rejoicing once.
Ere to their wintry slumbers tliey retire ;
In clusters clung, beneath the mouldering bank,
And where, unpicrc'd by frost, tlie cavern sweats :

840

AUTUMN.

Or rather into warmer climes convey'd
With other kindred birds of season, tliore
They twitter cheerful, till the vernal months
Invite them welcome back ; for, thi'onging, now
Innumerous wings are in commotion all.

Where the Rhine loses his majestic force
In Belgian plains, won from the raging deep.
By diligence amazing, and the strong
Unconquerable hand of liberty,
The stork assembly meets, for many a day,
Consulting deep, and various, ere they take
Their arduous voyage through the liquid sky.
And now, tlieir route design'd, their leaders chose,
Their tribes adjusted, clean'd their vigorous wings.
And many a circle, many a short essay,
Wheel'd round and round — in congregation full
The tigur'd flight ascends, and, riding high
The aerial billows, mixes with the clouds.

Or where the Northern ocean, in vast whirls,
Boils round the naked melancholy isles
Of farthest Thule, and the Atlantic surge
Pours in among the stormy Hebrides,
Who can recount what transmigrations there
Are annual ma.de ? what nations come and go 1
And how the living clouds on clouds arise,
Infinite wings, till all the plume-dark air
And rude-resounding shore are one wild cry ?
Here the plain harmless native his small flock,
And herd diminutive of many hues,
Tends on the little island's verdant swell.
The shepherd's sea-girt reign : or, to the rocks
Dire clinging, gathers his ovarious food ;
Or sweeps the flshy shore ; or treasures up
The plumage, rising full, to form the bed
Of luxury.

860

870

TIIK SEASONS

Scotland and Her Patriotic Sons.

And here awhile tlie muse.
High hovering o'er the broad cerulean scene,
Sees Caledonia in romantic view ; 8S0

Her airy mount ^ins, from tlie waving main,
Invested with a keen diffusive sky,
Breathing tlie soul acute ; her forests huge,
Incult, robust, and tall, by nature's hand
-Planted of old ; her azure lakes l^etween,
Poured out extensive, and of watery wealth
Full : winding deep, and green hor fertile vales ;
With many a cool translucent brimming flood
Wash'd lovely, from the Tweed (pure parent stream
Whose pastoral banks first heard my Doric reed, 890

With sylvan Jed, thy tributary brook),
To where the north-inflated tempest foams
O'er Orca's or Berubium's highest peak :
Nurse of a people, in misfortune's school
Trained up to hardy deeds ; soon visited
By learning, when before the Gothic rage
She took her western fligLu. A manly race,
Of unsubmitting spirit, wise and brave,
Who still through bleeding ages struggled hard
(As well unhappy Wallace can attest, 900

Great patriot-hero ! ill-requited chief ! )
To hold a generous undiminish'd state ;
Too much in vain ! Hence of unequal bounds
Impatient, and by tempted glory borne
O'er every land, for every land their life
Has flow'd profuse, their piercing genius plann'd,
And swell'd the pomp of peace their faithf il toil;
As from their own clear iiorth, in radiant streams,
Bright over Europe burst the Boreal mom.

AUTUMN.

Argyle and Forbes.

Oh ! is tliere not some patriot, in whose pow(»r
That l)(3st, that god-like luxury is plac'd,
Of blessing thousands, thousands yet unborn,
Thi'ough late posterity ? some, large of soul,
To cheer dejected industry, to give
A double harvest to the pining swain,
And teach the labouring hand the sweets of toil ;
IIoNV, by the finest art, the native robe
To weave ; how, white as hyperborean snow,
To form the lucid lawn ; with venturous oar
1 low to dash wide the billow, nor look on.
Shamefully passive, while Batavian fleets
Defraud us of the glittering tinny swarms
That heave our friths, and crowd upon our shores
How all-enlivening trade to rouse, and wing
The prosperous sail from every growing port,
Uninjur'd, round the sea-encircled globe ;
And thus, in soul iinited as in name,
Bid Britain reign the mistress of the deep ?

Yes, there are such. And full on thee, Argylc,
Her hope, her stay, her darling, and her boast,
From her first patriots and her heroes sprung,
Thy fond imploring country turns her eye ;
In thee, with all a mother's triumph, sees
Her every virtue, every grace combin'd,
Her genius, wisdom, her engaging turn,
Her pride of honour, and her courage tried,
Calm and intrepid, in the very throat
Of sulphurous war, on Taisniere's dreadful field.
Nor less the palm of peace inwreathes thy brow ,
For, powerful as thy sword, from thy rich tongue
Persuasion flows, and wins the high debate ;

910

920

030

940

:\0

THE SEAaONS.

While, iiiix'd in thcc, combine the charm of youth,
The force of manhood, and the depth of ago.
Thee, Forbes, too, wliom every worth attends,
As truth sincere, as weeping fricnulship kind,
Thee truly generous, and in silence great.
Thy country feels through her reviving arts,
Plann'd by thy wisdom, by thy soul inform'd ;
And seldom has she known a friend like thee.

The Fading Woods and Verdure.

But see, the fading many-colour'd woods, oso

Shade deepening over shade, the country round
Imbrown ; a crowded umbrage, dusk and dun,
Of every hue, from wan declining green
To sooty black. These now the lonesome muse,
Low-whispering, lead into their leaf-strown walks,
And give the season in its latest view.

Meantin)e, light-shadowing all, a sober calm
Fleeces unbounded dther ; whose least wave
Stands tremulous, uncertain where to turn
The gentle current ; while, illumin'd wide, 900

The dewy -skirted clouds imbibe the sun,
And, through their lucid veil, his soften'd force
Shed o'er the peaceful world. Then is the time.
For those whom wisdom and whom nature charm,
To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd,
And soar above this little scene of things ;
To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet :
To soothe the throbbing passions into peace,
And woo lone quiet in her silent walks.

Thus solitary, and in pensive guise, 970

Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead,
And through the sadden'd grove, wherescarce is heard
One dying strain, to cheer the woodman's toil.

AUTUMN.

f[ai)ly somo widow'd soii^'ster pours Iiis i)l;iiiit,
Far, in faint warblings, through the tawny copso ;
While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks,
And each wild throat, whose artless strain so late
Swell'd all the music of the swarming shades,
Robb'd of their tuneful souls, now shivering sit
On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock,
With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes.
And nought save chattering discord in their note.
Oh, let not, aim'd from some inhuman eye,
The gun the music of the coming year
Destroy ; and harmless, unsuspecting haiin.
Lay the weak tribes, a miserable prey.
In mingled murder, fluttering on tlie ground.
The pale descending year, yet pleasing still,
A gentler mood inspires ; for now the leaf
Incessant rustles from the mournful grove.
Oft startling such as, studious, walk below.
And slowly circles through the waving air.
But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs
8()b, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams ;
Till chok'd, and matted with the dreary shower,
The forest- walks, at every rising gale,
Roll wide the wither 'd waste, and whistle bleak.
Fled is the blasted verdure of the field ;
And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race *
Their sunny robes resign. Even what remain'd
Of bolder fruits, falls from the naked tree ;
And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around
The desolated prospect thrills the soul.

The Thoughts produced by Autumn.

He comes ! he comes ! in every breeze the power
Of philosophic melancholy comes.
His near approach the sudden-starting tear,

<»80

990

lOOC

•I

;

i'
■I

3-i

THE SEASONS.

The glowing cheek, the mild dejected air,

The soften'd feature, and the beating heart,

Pierc'd deep with many a virtuous pang, declare.

O'er all the soul his sacred influence breathes, loio

Inflames imagination, through the breast

Infuses every tenderness, and far

Beyond dim earth exalts the swelling thought.

Ten thousand thousand fleet ideas, such

As never mingl >d with the vulgar dream,

Crowd fast into the mind's creative eye.

As fast the correspondent passions rise,

As varied, and as high ; devotion rais'd

To rapture and divine astonishment ; ,

The love of nature unconfin'd, and, chief, 1020

Of human ra<;. ; the large ambitious wish

To make them blest ; the sigh for suffering worth

Lost in obscurity ; the noble scorn

Of tyrant pride ; the fearless great resolve ;

Tlie wonder which the dying patriot draws,

Inspiring glory through remotest time ;

Th' awakened t^^-^b for virtue and for fame ;

The sympatlilei of love and friendship dear ;

With all the social oflspring of the heart.

Oh ! bear me then to vast embowering shades, loso

To twilight groves and visionary vales.
To weeping grottoes and prophetic glooms,
Where angel forms athwart the solemn dusk
Tremendous sweep, or seem to sweep along ;
And voices more than human, through the void
Deep sounding, seize th' enthusiastic ear !

The Ctountry-seat of Stowe.

Or is this gloom too much 1 Then lead, ye powers
That o'er the garden and the rural seat
Preside, which shining through the cheerful land,

AUTUMN.

In countless numbers blest Britannia sees ; 1040

Oh, lead me to the wide-extended walks,

The fair majestic paradise, of Stowe !

Not Persian Cyrus on Ionia's shore

E'er saw such sylvan scenes, such varied art

By genius fired, such ardent genius tam'd

By cool judicious art, that in the strife.

All-beauteous nature fears to be outdone.

And there, O Pitt, thy country's early boast,

There let me sit beneath the shelter'd slopes,

Or in that temple where, in future times, iq5q

Thou well shalt merit a distinguish'd name ;

And, with thy converse blest, catch the last smiles

Of Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods.

While there with thee the enchanted round I walk,

The regulated wild, gay fancy then

Will tread in thought the groves of Attic land ;

Will from thy standard taste refine her own,

Correct her pencil to the purest truth

Of nature, or, the unimpassion'd shades

Forsaking, raise it to the human mind : ^oco

Or if hereafter she, with juster hand.

Shall draw the tragic scene, instruct her thou

To mark the varied movements of the heart ;

What every decent character requires,

And every passion speaks. Oh ! through her strain

Breathe thy pathetic eloquence, that moulds

Th' attentive senate, charms, persuades, exalts,

Of honest zeal th' indignant lightning throws,

And shakes corruption on lier venal tlirone.

While thus we talk, and through Elysian vales 1070

Delighted rove, perhaps a sigh escapes.

Wliat pity, Cobham, thou thy verdant files

Of order'd trees shouldst here inglorious lange.

THE SEASONS.

Instead of squadrons tlaniiiig o'er tlie field,

And' long-embattled hosts; wlien the proud foe,

The faithless vain disturber of mankind,

Insulting Gaul, has rous'd the world to war ;

When keen, once more, within their bounds to press

Those polish'd robbers, those ambitious slaves.

The British youth would hail thy wise command, logo

Thy temper'd ardour, and thy veteran skill.

Moonlight in Autumn.

The western sun withdraws the shorten'd day ;
And humid evening, gliding o'er the sky,
In her chill progress, to the ground condens'd
The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooze,
Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind,
Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along
The dusky-mantled lawn. Meanwhile the moon
Full-orb'd, and breaking through the scatter'd clouds,
Shows her broad visage in the crimson'd east. 1090

Turned to the sun direct, her spotted disk,
AVhere mountains rise, umbrageous dales descend.
And caverns deep, as optic tube descries,
A smaller earth, gives us his blaze again.
Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day.
Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop,
Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime.
Wide the pale deluge floats, and streaming mild
O'er the skied mountain to the shadowy vale.
While rocks and floods reflect the quivering gleam, uqq

The whole air whitens with a boundless tide
Of silver radiance, trembling round the world.

Meteors and the Superstitious Fear of Them.

But when half-blotted from the sky her light.
Fainting, permits t\n) stariy tires to burn

AUTUMN.

With keener lustre through the depth of h iven ;

Or near extinct her deaden'd orb appears,

And scarce appears, of sickly bearnless white ;

Oft in this season, silent from the north

A blaze of meteors shoots. Ensweeping first

The lower skies, they all at once converge mo

High to the crown of heaven, and all at once,

Relapsing quick, as quickly re-ascend.

And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew ;

All ether coursing in a marze of light.

From look to look, contagious through the crowd,
The panic runs, and into wondrous shapes
Th' appearance throws : armies in meet array,
Throng'd with aerial spears, and steeds of tire ;
Till, the long lines of full-extended war
In bleeding fight commixt, the sanguine flood u20

Rolls a broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven.
As thus they scan the visionary scene.
On all sides swells the superstitious din,
Incontinent ; and busy frenzy talks
Of blood and battle ; cities overturn'd,
And late at night in swallowing earthquake sunk,
Or hideous wrapt in fierce-ascending flame ;
Of sallow famine, inundation, storm ;
Of pestilence, and every great distress ;

Empires subvers'd, when ruling fate has struck ^sq

The unalterable hour. Even nature's self
Is deemed to totter on the brink of time.
Not so the man of philosophic eye,
And inspect sage. The waving brightness he
Curious surveys, inquisitive to know
Tlie causes and materials, yet unfix'd,
Of this appearance beautiful and new.

THE SEASONS.

I
nfti;

The Oomingr of Day.

Now, blach and deep, the night begins to fall,
A shade immense. Sunk in the quenching gloom.
Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth.
Order confounded lies; all beauty void;
Distinction lost; and gay variety
One universal blot; such the fair power
Of light, to kindle and create the whole.
Drear is the state of the benighted wretch,
Who then, bewilder'd, wanders through the dark.
Full of pale fancies irid chimeras huge.
Nor visited by one directive ray,
From cottage streaming, or from airy hall.
Perhaps impatient as he stumbles on.
Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue,
The wild-fire scatters round, or gather'd trails
A length of flame deceitful o'er the moss;
"VVhith(;r decoyed by the fantastic blaze,
Now lost and now renew'd, he sinks absorpt,
Rider and horse, amid the miry gulf;
While still, from day to day, his pining wife
And plaintive children his return await.
In wild conjecture lost. At other times,
Sent by the better genius of the night.
Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane.
The meteor sits, and shows the narrow path,
That winding leads through pits of death, or else
Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford.

The length(3n'd night elaps'd, the morning shines
Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright
Unfolding fair the last autumnal day.
And now the mounting sun dispels the fog.
The rigid hoar-frost melts before his beam;
And, hu)ig on eveiy spray, on every blade
Of grass, the myriad dc^w-drops twinkle round.

1140

1150

1160

117o

AUTUMN.

A Destroyed Beehive.
All, see where, robb'd and murdei'd, in that pit
Lies tlie still-heaving hive ! at evening snatch'd.
Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night,
And tixed o'er sulpliur; wliile, not dre.aming ill,
The happy people, in their waxen cells,
Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes
Of temperance for Winter poor; rejoic'd
To mark full flowing round, their copious stores.
Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends;
And, us d to milder scents, the tender race.
By thousands, tumble frooi their honey'd domes,
Convolv'd, and agonizing in the dust.
And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring,
Intent from flower to flower ' for this you toil'd
C(;aseless the burning Summer- heats away?
For this in Autumn search'd the blooming waste.
Nor lost one sunny gleam? for this sad fate?
man! tyrannic lord! how lo^.g, how long,
Shall prostrate nature groan beneath your rage,
Awaiting renovation? When oblig'd,
Must you destroy? Of their ambrosial food
Can you not borrow, and, in just return.
Afford them shelter from the v/intry winds ?
Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own
AgJiin regale them on some smiling day?
S(;o where the stony bottom of their town
Looks desolate and wild, with liere and there
A helpless number, who the ruin'd state
Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death.
Thus a proud city, populous and rich,
Full of thf. works of peace, and high in joy,
At theatre or f?ast, or sunk in sleep,
(As late, Palermo, was thy fate,) is seiz'd

1180

1190

■'' fl

1200

THE SEASONS.

By some dread eartl»(iuake, and convulsive hurl'd
Sheer from the black foundation, stench-involv'd,
Into a gulf of blue sulphureous flame.

Harvest Festivities.

Hence every harsher sight ! for now the day,
O'er heaven and earth difFus'd, grows warm a^nd high;
Infinite splendour, wide investing all. 1210

How still the breeze ! save what the filmy threads
Of dew evaporate brushes from the plain.
How clear the cloudless sky ! how deeply ting'd
With a peculiar blue ! the ethereal arch
How swell'd immense ! amid whose azure thron'd
The radiant sun how gay! how calm below.
The gilded earth ! the harvest-treasures all
Now gathered in, beyond the rage of storms.
Sure to the swain ; the circling fence shut up ;
And instant Winter's utmost rage defied ; 1220

While, loose to festive joy, the country round
Laughs with the loud sincerity of mirth ;
Shook to the wind their cares. The toil-strung youth,
By the quick sense of music taught alone,
Leaps wildly graceful in the lively dance.
Her every charm abroad, the village toast.
Young, buxom, warm, in native beauty rich,
Darts not unmeaning looks; and, where her eye
Points an approving smile, with double force
Tlie cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines. 123 1

Ago, too, shin* s out, and garrulous, recounts
The feats of youth. Thus they rejoice ; nor think
That, with to-morrow's sun, their annual toil
Begins again the never-ceasing round.

Oh ! knew he but his happiness, of men

AUTUMN.

The happiest he, who, far from public rage,
Deep in the vale, with a choice few retir'd,
Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life.

The Joys and Blessings of a Country Life.

What though the dome be wanting, whose proud gate.

Each morning, vomits out the sneaking crowd 1240

Of flatterers false, and in their turn abus'd ?

Vile intercourse! What though the glittering robe.

Of every hue reflective light can give,

Or floating loose, or stiff with mazy gold,

The pride and gaze of fools, oppress him not ?

What though, from utmost land or sea purvey'd.

For him each rarer tributary life

Ploeds not, and his insatiate table heaps

With luxury and death? What though his bowl

Flames not with costly juice? nor sunk in beds, 1250

Oft of gay care, he tosses out the night.

Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state?

What though he knows not those fantastic joys.

That still amuse the wanton, still deceive;

A face of pleasure, but a heart of pain;

Their hollow moments undelighted all?

Sure peace is his; a solid life estrang'd

To disappointment and fallacious hope;

Rich in content; in nature's bounty rich.

In herbs and fruits; whatever greens tlio Spring, ^^qq

When heaven descends in showers, or bonds tlie bougli

When Summer reddens, and when Autumn beams;

Or in the wintry globe whatever lies

Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap —

These are not wanting; nor the milky drove,

Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale;

! ;

'\ ;

!•

THE SEASONS.

I ^

Nor bleating mountains, nor the chide of streams,
And hum of bees, inviting sleep sincere
Into the guiltless breast, beneath the shade,
Or tln'own at large amid tlie fragrant hay;
Nor aught beside of prospect, grove, or song.
Dim grottoes, gleaming lakes, and fountains clear.
Here too dwells simple truth; plain innocence;
Unsullied beauty; sound unbroken youth,
Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd;
Health, ever blooming; unambitious toil;
Calm contemplation, and poetic ease.

Let others brave the flood in quest of gain
And beat for joyless months the gloomy wjive.
Let such as deem it glory to destroy.
Rush into blood, the sack of cities seek;
Unpierc'd, exulting in the widow's wail,
The virgin's shriek, and infant's trembling cry.
Let some, far distant from their native soil,
Urg'J or by want or harden'd avarice,
Find other lands beneath another sun.
Let this through cities work his eager waj',
By legal outrage and establish'd guile,
The social sense extinct; and that ferment
Mad into tumult the seditious herd.
Or molt them down to slavery. Let these
Insnare the wretched in the toils of Law,
Fomenting discord, and perplexing riglit;
An iron race ! and those of fairer front
But equal inhumanity, in courts.
Delusive pomp and dark cabals, delight,
Wreatlie the deep bow, diffuse the lying smile,
And tread the weary labyrinth of state.
Wliile he from all the stormy passions free
Tliat restless men involve, liears and but hears,

1270

1280

1290

1300

AUTUMN

At distance safe, the hinnan tempest roar,

Wrapt close in conscious peace. The fall of kings

The rage of nations, and tlie crush of states,

Move not the man who, from the world escap'd,

In still retreats and flowery solitudes,

To nature's voice attends, from month to month,

And day to day, through the revolving year;

Admiring, sees her in every shape;

Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart;

Takes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more. 1310

He when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems,

Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale

Into his freshened soul. Her genial hours

He full enjoys; and not a beauty blows.

And not an opening blossom breathes, in vain.

In summer, he, beneath the living shade,

Such as o'er frigid Tempe wont to wave.

Or Hsemus cool, reads what the muse, of these

Perhaps, has in immortal numbers sung.

Or what she dictates writes; and oft, an eye 1320

Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year.

Wlien Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world,

And tempts the sickled swain into the field,

Seiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends

With gentle throes; and through the tepid gleams

Deep musing, then he best ex(;rt3 his song.

Even Winter wild to him is full of bliss.

The mighty tempest, and the hoar waste,

Abrupt and deep, stretch'd o'er the buried earth,

Awake to solemn thought. At night, the skies, 1330

Disclos'd and kindled by refining frost.

Pour every lustre on the exalted eye.

A friend, a book, the stealing hours secure,

And mark them down for wisdom. With swift wing,

THE SEASONS.

O'er land and sea imagination roams;

Or truth, divinely breaking on his mind,

Elates his being and unfolds his powers;

Or in his breast heroic virtue burns.

The touch of kindred, too, and love he feels;

The modest eye, whose beams on his alone

Ecstatic shine; the little strong embrace

Of prattling children, twin'd around his nc^k,

And emulous to please him, calling forth

The fond parental soul. Nor purpose gay,

Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly scorns;

For happiness and true philosophy

Are of the social, still, and smiling kind.

This is the life which those who fret in guilt,

And guilty cities, never knew; the life

Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt,

When angels dwelt, and God himself, with man.

The Poet's Devotion to Nature.

O Nature ! all-sufficient ! over all !
Enrich me with the knowledge of thy works ;
Snatch me to heaven ; thy rolling wonders there.
World beyond world, in infinite extent,
Profusely scatter'd o'er the blue immense,
Show me ; their motions, periods, and their laws,
Give me to scan; through the disclosing deep
Light my blind way; the mineral strata there;
Thrust, blooming, thence the vegetable world;
O'er that the rising system, more complex,
Of animals; and higher still, the mind.
The varied scene of quick-compounded thought,
And where the mixing p;issions endless shift;
These ever open to my ravish 'd eye;
A search the flight of time can ne'er exhaust 1

1840

1350

1860

AUTUMN.

But if to that unequal, if tho blood,

In sluggish streams about my heart, forbid

That best ambition, under closing shades,

Inglorious, lay Uio by tho lowly brook,

And whisper to my dreams. From thee begin,

Dwell all on thee, with thee conclude, my song ;

And let me never, never stray from thee I

1370

END OF AUTUMN.

'if.

\ K

•If

THE SEASONS.

WINTER.

See, Winter comes, to rule the varied year,

Sullen and sad, with all his rising train,

Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these my theme,

These, that exalt the soul to solemn thouglit

And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms !

Congenial horrors, hail ! With frequent foot,

Pleas'd have I, in my cheerful morn of life.

When nurs'd by careless solitude I liv'd.

And sung of nature with unceasing joy,

Pleas'd have I wander'd through your rough domain ;

Trod the pure virgin snows, myself as pure ;

Heard the winds roar, and the big torrents burst ;

Or seen the deep fermenting tempest, brew'd,

In the grim evening sky. Thus pass'd the time.

Till, through the lucid chambers of the south

Look'd out the joyous Spring — look'd out, and smil'd.

Dedioation

To thee, the patron of her first essay.
The muse, Wilmington ! renews her song.
Since has she rounded the revolving year ;
Skimm'd the gay Spring ; on eagle pinions borne,
Attempted through the Summer-blaze to rise ;
Then swept o'er Autumn with the shadowy gale ;
And now among the Wintry clouds again,
Roll'd in the doubling storm, she tries to soar ;
To swell her note with all the rushing winds ;
To suit her sounding cadence to the floods ;
As is her theme, her numbers wildly great :
Thrice happy ! could she fill thy judging ear
With bold description and with manly thought.
Nor art thou skill'd in awful schemes alone,

WINTEn.

And how to make a mi^lity people tlirive ;
But equal goodness, sound integrity,
A tinn, unshaken, uncorrupted soul,
Amid a sliding 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 muse
Record what envy dares not flattery call.

Approach of Winter.

Now, when the cheerless empire of the sky
To Capricorn and Centaur Archer yields,
And tierce Aquarius stains th' inverted year,
Hung o'er the farthest verge of heaven, the sun
Scarce spreads through etlier the dejected day.
Faint are his gleams ; and ineffectual shoot
His struggling rays, in horizontal lines.
Through the thick air, as, cloth'd in cloudy stoim,
Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southei-n sky.
And, soon descending, to the long dark night.
Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns.
Nor is tne night unwish'd, while vital heat.
Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forsake.
Meantime, in sable cincture, shadows vast,
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 oppressive o'er the world.
Through nature shedding influence malign.
And rouses up the seeds of dark disease.
The soul of man dies in him, loathing life.
And black with more than melancholy views.

It-
* t-i

«0

S "

if ''

THE SEASONS.

The cattle droop ; and o'er the furrow'd land,
Fresh from the plough, the dun-discolourVl flocks,
Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root.
Along the woods, along tlie moorish fens,
Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm ;
And up among the loose disjointed clifl's,
And fractal r'd mountains wild, the brawling brook,
And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan,
Resounding long in listening fancy's ear.

A Rain-storm.

Then comes the father of the tempest forth,
Wrapt in black glooms. First, joyless rains obscure
Drive through the mingling skies with vapour foul ;
Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the woods,
That grumbling wave below. Th' unsightly 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 foce. The wanderers of heaven,
Each to his home, retire, save those that love
To take their pastime in the troubled air,
Or skinnning flutter round the dimply pool.
The cattle from the untnsted fields return.
And ask, with meaning low, their wont-ed stalls.
Or ruminate in the contiguous shade.
Thither the household feathery people crowd ;
The crested cock, with all his female train,
Pensive and dripping ; while the cottage hind
Hangs o'er the enlivening blaze, and taleful there
Recounts his simple frolic : much he tjilks.
And much he laughs, nor recks the storm that blows
Without, and rattles on his humble roof.

Wide o'er the brim, with many a torrent swell'd.

WINTER.

And the mix'd ruin of its banks o'erspread,

At last tlie rous'd up rivtM* pours along.

Resistless, roaring, di-eadful, down it conies,

From the rude mountain and the mossy wild,

Tumbling throu<^ii rocks abrupt, and sounding far;

Then o'er tlie sanded valley floating spreads,

Calm, sluggish, silent; till again, constrain'd

Between two meeting hills, it bursts away,

Where rocks and woods o'erhang the turbid stream.

There, gathering triple force, r.apid and deep^

It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders tli rough.

100

! t

>:.

A Wind-storm and Its Effects.

Nature ! great parent ! whose unceasing hand
Rolls round tlie seasons of the changeful year,
How mighty, how majestic, are thy works !
With what a pleasing dread they swell the soul,
That sees astonish'd. and astonish'd sings !
Ye, too, ye winds ! that now begin to blow
With boisterous sweep, I raise my voice to you.
Where are your stores, ye powerful beings ! say,
Where your aerial magazines reserv'd
To swell the brooding terrors of the storm ?
In what far distant region of the sky,
Hush'd in deep silence, sleep ye when 'tis calm ?

When from the pallid sky the sun descends,
With many a spot, that o'er his glaring orb
Uncertain wanders, stain'd, rr 1 fiery streaks
Begin to flush around. The reeling clouds
Stagger with dizzy poise, as doubting yet
Which master to obey ; while, rising slow,
Blank, in the leaden-colour'd east, the moon
Wears a wan circle round her blunted horns.
Seen through the turbid fluctuating air,

tio

''1;

THE sg:asoi^s.

The stars obtuse emit a shiver'd ray,

Or frequent seem to shoot athwart tlie gloom,

And long beliind them trail the whitening blaze.

Snatch'd in short eddies plays the withe r'd leaf ; iso

And on the flood the dancing feather floats.

With broaden'd nostrils to the sky up-turn'd.

The conscious heifer snufls the stormy gtxlo.

Even as the matron, at her nightly task,

With pensive labour draws the flaxen thiead,

The wasted taper and the crackling flame

Foretell the blast. But chief the plumy race,

The tenants of the sky, its changes speak.

Retiring from the downs, where all day long

They pick'd their scanty fare, a blackening tiuin X40

Of clamorous rooks thick urge their wc^ary flight.

And seek the closing shelter of the grove.

Assiduous, in his bower, the wailing owl

Plies his sad song. The cotinorant on high

Wheels from the deep, and screams along the land.

Loud shrieks the soaring hern; and with wild wing

The circling sea-fowl cleave the flaky clouds.

Ocean, unequal press'd, with broken tide

And blind commotion heaves ; while, from the shore,

Eat into caverns by the restless wave, 150

And forest-rustling mountains, comes a voice,

That, solemn sounding, bids the world prepare.

Tiien issues forth the storm, with sudden burst

And hurls the whole precipitated air

Down in a torrent. On the passive main

Descends the ethereal force, and with strong gust

Turns from its bottom the discolour'd deep.

Through the black night that sits immense around,

Lash'd into foam, the tierce conflicting biine

Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn. no

WINTER.

Meantime the mountain-billows, to the clouds

In dreadful tumult swell'd, surge above surge^

Burst into chaos with tremendous roar,

And anchor'd navies from their stations drive,

Wild as the winds, across the howling waste

Of mighty waters : now the inflated wave

Straining they scale, and now impetuous shoot

Into the secret chambers of the deep,

The wintry Baltic thundering o'er their head.

Emerging thence again, before the breath 17©

Of full-exerted heaven they wing their course,

And dart on distant coasts ; if some sharp i ock,

Or shoal insidious, break not their career.

And in loose fragments fling them floating round.

Nor less at land the loosen'd tempest reigus.
The mountain thunders ; and its sturdy sons
Stoop to the bottom of the rocks they shade.
Lone on the midnight steep, and all aghast,
The dark wayfaring stranger breathless toils,
And, often falling, climbs against the blast. i^

Low waves the rooted forest, vex'd, and sheds
What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain ;
Dash'd down, and scatter'd by the tearing wind's
Assiduous fury, its gigantic limbs.
Thus, struggling through the dissipated grove,
The whirling tempest raves along the plain,
And on the cottage thatch'd, or lordly roof,
Koen-fastening, shakes them to the solid base.
Sh^ep frighted flies ; and round the rocking dome,
For entrance eager, howls the savage blast. ^jq

Tiu'n too, they say, through all the bur'>:h('n'd air,
Tjoiig groans are heard, shrill sounds, and distant sighs,
That, utter'd by th(; dcMiion of the night,
Warn tiie devoted wretch of woe and death

¥ \- m

, 'ifi

!)^l

THE SHASONS.

'' if

Huge uproar lords it wide. The clouds commix'd
With stars, swift gliding, sweep along the sky.
All nature reels; till nature's King, who oft
Amid tempestuous darkness dwells alone,
And on the wings of the careering wind
Walks drefidfully serene, commands a colm.
Then, straight, air, sea, and earth, are hush'd at once.

Reflections Duringr the Night.

As yet 'tis midnight deep. Tlie weary clouds,
Slow meeting, mingle into solid gloom.
Now, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleep,
Let me associate with the serious night,
And contemplation, her sedate compeer ;
Let me sh.ike olF the intrusive cares of day,
And lay the meddling senses all aside.

Where now, ye lying vanities of life !
Ye ever- tempting, ever-cheating train !
Where are you now, and what is your amount ?
Vexation, disappointment, and remorse.
Sad, sickening thought ! And yet deluded man,
A scene of crude disjointed visions past,
And broken slumbers, rises, still resolv'd.
With new-flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round.

Father of light and life ! thou Good Supreme I
Oh ! teach me what is good ! teach me Thyself !
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice.
From every low pursuit, and feed my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and viitue pure.
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss !

A Snow-stomi ; its Effects on the Animal Creation.

The keener tempests rise ; and, fuming dun
From all tlie livid east or piercing north.
Thick clouds ascend, in whose caj)acious womb

soo

sio

sso

WlNTEn.

A v.-ipoury dolufjo lios, to snow congoal'd.

Hejivy tlioy roll their fleecy world ?iloniT ;

And (lu! sky suddens with the j^sithei'd storm.

Through the hush'd air the whitening shower descends,

At first thin- wavering, till at last the flakes 2Su

Fall hroad, and wide and fast; dimming the d.'i.y,

With a continual flow. Tlie cherish'd fields

Put on their winter robes of purest white.

'Tis brightness all ; save where the new snow melts

Along the mazy current. Low, the woods

How their hoar liead ; and ere the languid sun

Faint from tlie west eniits his evening ray.

Earth's universal face, deep hid, and chill.

Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries wide

Tlie works of man. Drooi)ing, the labourer-ox ^o

Stands cover'd o'er with snow, and then demands

The fruit of all his toil. The fowls of heaven,

Tam'd by the cruel season, crowd around

Tlie winnowing store, and claim the little boon

Which Providence assigns them. One alone,

Tlie red-breast, sacred to the household gods,

Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,

In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves

His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man

His annual visit. Ilalf-afraid, he first 250

Against the window beats ; then, brisk, alights

On the warm hearth ; then, hopping o'er the floor,

Eyes all the smiling family askance,

And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is ;

Till, more familiar grown, the table-crumbs

Attract his slender feet. The foodless wilds

Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The hare,

Though timorous of heart, and hard beset

By death in various forms, dark snares, and dogs,

I J

I ^'

Ml
It

.V2

TDB sr.ASONB.

a''

And morp unpitying mon, the f^urdon sooks,
Urg'd oil by fearless want. The blciting kind
Eye the bleak heaven, and next the glistening earth,
With looks of dumb despair ; then, sad dispers'd.
Dig for the withered herb through heaps of snow.

Now, sliephcrds, to your helpless charge be kind.
Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens
Witli food at will : lodge them below the storm,
And watch them strict ; for, from the bellowing east,
In this dire season, oft the whirlwind's wing
Sweeps up the burden of whole wintry plains
In one wide waft, and o'er the hapless flocks,
Hid in the hollaw of two neighbouring hills,
The billowy tempest whelms ; till, upward ui'g'd,
Th" valley to a shining mountain swells,
Tipp'd with a wreath high curling in the sky.

The Man Perishingr in the Snow.

As thus the snows arise, and, foul and iiorce.
All winter drives along the darken'd air.
In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain
Disaster'd stands ; sees other hills ascend,
Of unknown joyless brow, and other scenes.
Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain ;
Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid
Beneath the formless wild, but wanders on
From hill to dale, still more and more astray ;
Impatient flouncing through the drifted h(»aps.
Stung with the thoughts of home : the thoughts of home
Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth
In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul !
What black dospair, what horror, fills his heart !
When, for the dusky spot, which fancy f 'igu'd
His tufted cottage rising through the snuw,

260

370

880

WINTER.

He meets the roughness of the middle waste,

Far from the track and blest abode of man ;

While round him night resistless closes fast,

And every tempest howling o'er his head,

Renders the savage wilderness more wild.

Then throng the busy shapes into his mind.

Of cover'd pits, unfathomably deep,

A dire descent ! beyond the power of frost ;

Of faithless bogs ; of precipices huge, goo

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

Wliat water ; of the still unfrozen spring,

In the loose marsh or solitary lake.

Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils.

These check his fearful steps ; and down he sinks

H<'!neath the shelter of the shapeless drift,

Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death.

Mix'd with the tender anguish nature shoots

Through the wrung be ~^ of the dying man.

His wife, his children, and his friends, unseen. gjo

In vain for him the officious wife prepares

The tire fair-b!a/,ing and the vestment warm.

In vain his little children, jjceping out

Into the mingling storm, demand their si/e.

With tears of artless innoctuice. Alas !

Nor wife, nor children, moie shall he l)ehoId ;

Nor friends, nor sacred home. On every nerve

The d(\adly Winter seizes, shuts up sense.

And, o'er iiis inmost vitals creeping cold,

Lays him along tlie snows, a stifl'en'd corse;, ^20

Stretch'd out and bleaching: in the northern blast.

The Prevalence of Human Pain and Misery.

Ah ! little think thi; gay licentious pi-oud.
Whom pleasure, power, and afHuenci', surround ;
Tiiey wIjo their tiioughtlcss hours in giddy mirth.

Dt I

THE SEASONS.

And wanton, often cruel, riot waste ;

Ah ! little think they, while tliey dfuicc alon^,

How many feel, this very moment, death

And all the sad variety of pain ; —

How many sink in the devouring flood.

Or more devouring flame ; — how many blo-'d, sao

By shameful variance betwixt man and man ; —

How many pine in want and dungeon glooms.

Shut from the common air, and common use

Of their own lim' a ; — how many drink the cup

Of baleful g « >f , or eat the bitter bread

Of misery ; — ""e »;-vrc'd by wintry winds,

How many shrank in ♦ bhe sordid hut

Of cheerless poverty ; — how many shake

With all the fiercer tortures of the mind.

Unbounded passion, madness guilt, remoi'se ; 840

Whence tumbled headloni; from the heart of life,

They furnish matter for the tragic muse ; —

Even in the vale where wisdom loves to dwell,

With friendship, peace and contemplation join'd,

How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop

In deep retir'd distress ;— how many stand

Around the deathbed of their dearest friends.

And point the parting anguish. Thought fond man

Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills

That one incessant struggle render life, 8.'>t'

One scene of toil, of sufl'ering, and of fate,

Vice in his high career would stand apjtaU'd,

And heedless rambling impulse learn to think.

The conscious heart of charity would warm,

And her wide wish benevolence dilate.

The social tear would rise, the social sigh,

And into clear perfection, gradual ])liss,

liefining still, the social passions work.

WINTER.

The Prisons and Their Wretcshed Inmates.
And here, can I forget tlie generous band, *

Who, touch'd with human woe, redressive search'd 360

Into the horrors of the gloomy jail ;
Unpitied, and unheard, where misery moans ;
Where sickness pines ; where thirst and hunger burn ,
And poor misfortune feels the lash of vice ,
While in the land of liberty, the land
Whose every street and public meeting glow
With open freedom, little tyrants rag'd ;
Snatch'd the lean morsel from the starving mouth ;
Tore from cold wintry limbs the tatter'd weed ;
Even robbd them of the last of cor^^orts, sleep ; 370

The free-born Briton to the dungeon t ain'd.
Or, as the lust of cruelty prevail'i^
At pleasure mark'd him with inglorious strijxjs,
And crush'd out lives, by secret barbarous ways.
That for their country would h e toil'd, or bled ?
Oh great design ! if executed well,
With patient care, and wisdom-temper'd zeal.
Ye sons of mercy ! yet resume the search.
Drag forth the legal monsters into light.
Wrench from their hands oppression's iron rod ; ggQ

And bid the cruel feel the pains they give.
Much still untouch'd remains : in this rank age,
Much is the patriot's weeding hand requir'd.
The toils of law (what dark insidious men
Have cumbrous added to perplex the truth,
And lengthen simple justice into trade).
How glorious were the day that saw tliese broke,
And every man within the reach of right !

Descent of the Wolves.

By wintry famine i«us'd, from all the tract
Of horrid mountains which (lie shining Ali)S, g^

' J

nil.

THE SEASONS.

And wavy Apennines, and Pyrenees,

Branch out stupendous into distant lands.

Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.

Burning for blood, bony, and gaunt, and grim,

Assembling wolves in raging troops descend,

And, pouring o'er the country, bear alonq,

Keen as the north wind sweeps the glossy snow.

All is their prize. They fasten on the steed,

Press him to earth, and pierce his mighty heart.

Nor can the bull his awful front defend, 400

Or shake the murdering savages away.

Rapacious, at the mother's throat they fly,

And tear the screaming infant from her breast.

The godlike face of man avails him nought.

Even beauty, force divine ! at whose bright glance

The generous lion stands in soften'd gaze.

Here bleeds, a hapless undistinguished prey.

But if, appriz'd of the severe attack.

The country be shut up, lur'd by the scent,

On church yards drear (inhuman to relate !) 410

The disappointed prowlers fall, and dig

The shrouded body from the grave, o'er which,

Mix'd with foul shades and frighted ghosts, they howl.

An Avalanohe.

Among those hilly regions, where, embrac'd
In peaceful vales, the happy Grisons dwell,
Oft, rushing sudden from the loaded cliffs.
Mountains of snow their gathering terrors roll.
From steep to steep, loud thundering, down they come,
A wintry waste in dire commotion all ;
And herds, and flocks, and travellers, and swains, 420

And sometimes whole brigades of marching troops.
Or hamlets sleepinjr in the dead of night.
Are deep beneath the buiotlicring ruin whelm'd

WlNfErt.

Literary Converse for a Winter Bveninff.

Now, all amid the rigours of tiie year,
In tiie wild depth of winter, while, without.
The ceaseless winds blow ice, be luy retreat.
Between the groaning forest and the shore
Beat by the boundless multitude of waves,
A rural, stielter'd, solitary scene.

Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join, 499

To cheer the gloom. There studious let uie sit.
And hold high converse with the miglity dead.
Sages of ancient time, as gods rever'd,
As gods l)eneiicent, who bless'd mankind
With arts, with arms, and humaniz'd a world.
Rous'd at the inspiring tliought, I throw aside
The long-liv'd volume, and, deep-musing, hail
The sacred shades that slowly-rising pass
Before my wondering eyes.

Illustrious Gh*eciana

First, Socrates,
Who, firmly good in a corrupted state, 440

Against the rage of tyrants single stood,
Invincible ; calm reason's holy law,
Tliat voice of God within the attentive mind,
Obeying, fearless, or in life or death ;
(rreat moral teacher, wisest of mankind !
Solon, the next, who built his commonweal
On equity's wide base ; by tender laws
A lively people curbing, yet undarap'd
Preserving still that quick peculiar fire,
Whence in the laurel'd field of finer arts, ^^

And of bold freedom, they unequall'd shone.
The pride of smiling Greece and human kind.
Lycurgus, then, who bow'd beneath the force

,. J

'il

I: M'

TIIK SEASONS.

Of st^rictest (liKcipline, sr'vcM'oly wise,

All liuinan piissions. Follow in<^ him, T soe,

As at Th«;riuopjlju he glorious fell,

The firm devoted chief, who prov'd by deeds

The hardest lesson which tlu^ other taught.

Then Aristides lifts his honest front ;

Spotless of heart, to whom the unflattering voice

Of freedom gave the noblest name of Just ;

Tn pure mnjestic poverty rever'd ;

Who, even his glory to his country's weal

Submitting, swell'd a liaughty rival's fan»e.

R(^ar'd by his care, of softer ray appears,

Cimon, sweet-soul'd, whose genius, rilsing strong,

Shook off the load of young debauch ; abroad,

The scourge of Persian pride ; at home, the friend

Of every worth and every splendid art ;

Modest, and simple, in the pomp of wealth.

Then the last worthies of declining Greece,

Late call'd to glory, in unequal times.

Pensive, appear. The fair Corintiiian boast,

Timoleon, temper'd happy, mild, and firm.

Who wept the brother, while the tyrant bled.

And, equal to the best, the Theban pair

Whose virtues, in hei*oic concord join'd,

Their country rais'd to freedom, empire, fame.

Ke, too, with whom Athenian honour sunk,

And left a mass of sordid lees behind,

Phocion, the good ; in public life severe,

To virtue still inexorably firm ;

But when, beneath his low illustrious roof,

Sweet peace and happy wisdom smooth'd his brow,

Not friendship softer was, nor love more kind.

And he, the last of old Lycurgus' sons.

The generous victim to that vain attempt

100

470

WINTER.

r>d

To save a rotten state ; Agis, who saw
Even Sparta's self to servile avarice sunk.
The two Achajan heroes close the train :
Aratus, who awhile reluni'd the soul
Of fondly-lingering liberty in (Jreece ;
And he, her darling, Jis her latest hope,
The gallant Philopoemen, who to arms
Turned the luxurious pomp he could not cure ;
Or toiling in his farm, a simple swain ;
Or, bold and skilful, thundering in the field.

Illustrious Romans.

Of rougher front, a mighty people como !
A race of heroes ! in those virtuous times,
Which knew no stain, save that, with partial flume,
Their dearest country they too fondly lov'd.
Her better founder first, the light of Rome,
Numa, who soften'd her rapacious sons ; —
Servius, the king, who laid the solid base
On which, o'er earth the vast republic spread.
Then the great consuls venerable rise :
The public father who the private quelled,
As on the dread tribunal sternly sad ; —
He whom his thankless country could not lose,
Camillus, only vengeful to hfer foes ; —
Fabricius. scorner of all-conquering gold ; —
And Cincinnatus, awful from the plough ; —
Thy willing victim, Carthage, bursting loose
From all that pleading nature could oppose,
F' om a whole city's tears, by rigid faith
Imperious called, and honour's dire command ; —
Scipio, the gentle chief, humanely brave.
Who soon the race of spotless glory ran,
And, warm in youth, to the poetic shade

490

'111

600

610

THE SEASOKa.

With friendship and pliilosophy retir'd ;—
Tulh', whose powerful eloquence awhile
Kestrain'd the rapid fate of rushing Home ;—
Unconquered Cato, virtuous in extreme ;
And thou, unhappy Brutus, kind of hearj,
\/ hose steady arm, by awful virtue urg'd,
Lifted the Roman steel against thy fiiend.
Thousands besides, the tribute of a verse
Demand ; but who can count the stars of heaven f
Who sing their influence on this lower woi-ld ?

Behold, who yonder comes, in sober state,
Fair, mild and strong, as in a vernal sun ?
'Tis Phoebus' self, or else the Mantuan swain I
Great Homer, too, appears, of daring wing,
Parent of song ! and, equal by his side.
The Britii^li muse : join'd hand in hand they walk,
Darkling, full up the middle steep to fame.
Nor absent are those shades whose skilful touch
Pathetic drew the impassion'd heart, and charm'd
Transported Athens with the moral scene ;
Nor those who, tuneful, wak'd the enchanting lyre.

First of your khid ! society divine !
Still visit thus my nights, for you resei-v'd,
And mount my soaring soul to thoughts like yours.
Silence, thou lonely power I the door be thine.
See on the hallow'd hour that none intrude,
Save a few cliosen friends, who sometimes deign
To bless my humble roof, with sense n-tin'd,
Ijoarning digested well, exalted faith.
Unstudied wit, and humour ever gay.
Or, from the Muses' hill will Pope descend.
To raise the sacred hour, to bid it smile.
And with the social spirit warn\ the heart!
For though not sweeter his own Homer sings,

640

66G

WINTER.

Yet is his life the more endearing song.

Wliere art thou, Hammond ? thou the darling pride,
Tim friend and lover of the tuneful throng !
All, why, dear youth, in all the blooming prime
Of vernal genius, where disclosing fast
Kach active worth, each manly virtue lay,
Why wert thou ravish'd from our hopes so soon t 500

What now avails that noble thirst of fame,
Which stung thy fervent breast ; that trtNisur'd store
Of knowledge, early gained ; that eag<u* zeal
To serve thy countryj glowing in the band
Of youtiiful patriots who sustain her name I
What now, alas ! tiiat life-diffusing charm
Of sprightly wit; tliat rapture for tlu; muse.
That heart of friendship and that soul of Joy,
Which bade, with softest light, thy virtues smile?
All ! only show'd, to check our fond pursuits, 570

And teach our humbled liopes that life is vain I

:1?

SubJootB Proposed.

Thus, in some deep retinMiient would I paj.8
The winter glooms, with friends of pliant soul.
Or blithe or solemn, as the theme ins[)ir'd ;
With tin in would search, if nature's boundless frame
Was (."ll'd lat(^ rising, from the void of night.
Or sprung (eternal from 0\v. Eternal Mi ml ;
Its life, its laws, its progr(^ss, and its end.
Ili'nee larger prospects of the iM'uuteous wholo
Would, gradual, op(Ui on our opening miiuU i
And each ditl'usivo harmony unite
In full perfection, to th(5 astonish'd eye.
Then would we try to s<Min the moral world,
Which, though to us it sceuks embroil'd, moves on
111 higher order ; lit ted and impell'd

6H0

THE SEASONS.

By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all

In general good. The sage historic muse

Should next conduct us through the deeps of time ;

Show us how empire grew, declin'd and fell.

In scattered states ; what makes the nations smile, 69»i

Improves their soil, aniJ gives them double suns ;

And why they pine beneath the brightest skies,

In nature's richest lap. As thus we talk'd.

Our hearts would burn within us, would inhale

That portion of divinity, that ray

Of purest heaven, which lights the public soul

Of patriots and of heroes. But if doom'd.

In powerless, humble fortune to repress

These ardent risings of a kindling soul ;

Then, even superior to ambition, we 6ao

Would learn the private virtues ; how to glide

Through shades and plains, along the smoothest stream

Of rural life ; or snatch'd away by hope,

Through the dim spaces of futurity.

With earnest eye anticipate those scenes

Of happiness and wonder, where the mind,

In endless growth and infinite ascent,

llises from state to state, and world to world.

But wlien with these the serious thought is foil'd.

We, shifting for relief, would ply the shapes «io

Of frolic fancy ; and incessant form

Tlioae rapid pictures, that assembled train

Of fleet ideas, never join'd before,

Whence lively wit excites to gay surprise ;

Or folly-painting-'iumour, grave himself,

Calls laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve.

Winter Eveningr in the Country.
Meantime the villagf* rouses up the tire ;
While, well atte^tinl, nud i\» well Uiliev'd,

WINTEU.

6.*^

Heard solemn, goes the goblin story round,

Till superstitious horror creeps o'er all j ^^o

Or, frequent in the souiuling hall, they wake

The rural gambol. Rustic mirth goes round ;

The simple joke that takes the shepherd's heart,

Easily pleas'd ; the long loud laugh sincere ;

The kiss, snatch'd hastily from the sidelong maid.

On purpose guardless, or pretending sleep ;

The leap, the slap, the liaul ; and, shook to note^j

Of native music, the respondent dance.

Thus jocund fleets with them the winter-night.

Winter Evening in the City.

The city swarms intcinse. The public haunt, §^

Full of each tluMiic, and warm with mix'd discourse.
Hums indistinct. The sons of riot flow
Down the loose stream of false enchanted joy
To swift destruction. On the rankled soul
The gaming fury falls ; and in one gulf
Of totrfil ruin, honour, virtue, peace.
Friends, families, and fortune, headlong sink.
Up springs the dance along tlie ligliU^l dome,
Mix'd and evolv'd, a tJKmsand sprightly ways.
The glittering court ed'uscrs every pomp. |f|

The circle deepens ; beamed from gaudy rolxis,
Tapers, and sparkling gems, and radiant eyes,
A soft eflfulgence o'er the palace waves ;
While, a gay in.sect in his summer shine,
The fop, light fluttering, spreads his mealy wings.

Dread o'er the .sc(mh», the ghost of Hamlet stalks ;
Othello rages ; poor Monimia mourns;
And r^elvidera pours lirr sonl in love.
Terror alarms the bi-easl ; the comely tear
Steals o'er tlie cheek ; or else tli' eomi • muse 660

THE SEA80K8.

Holds to the world a picture of itself,
And raises sly the fair impartipvl laugh.
SoTiiotiinc ; she lifts her strain, and paints the scrr>PP
Ol bijauteop.s life; whate'er can deck mankind,
Oi' charm the heart, in generous Bevil show*d.

m
m

I: I

Panegyric on Lord Chesterfield.

O thou, whose wifsdom, solid, yet refin'd,
Whose patriot- virtues, and consummate skill
To touch the finer springs that move the world,
Join'd to whate'er the graces can bestow,
And all Apollo's animating fire,
Give thee, with pleasing dignity, to shine
At once, the guardian, ornament, and joy,
Of polish'd life — permit the rural muse,
O (chesterfield, to grace with thee her song !
Ere to t^ie shades again she humbly Hies,
Indulge her fond ambition in thy train,
(For every niuse has in thy train a place,)
To mark thy various full-accomplish 'd mind ;
To mark that spirit which, with British scorn,
Rejei^ts the allurements of corrupt<'(l power ;
That elegant polit(?ness, which ev.rcls,
Even in the judgmcii*: of presufutf uous Fran<e,
Th<^ boastcMl ijianners of her shining court;
That wit, the vivid energy of sense,
The truth of nature;, which, with Atti(r point,
And kind, well-temper'd satire, smoothly keen,
Steals through the soul, and without pain, corrects.
Or, rising thence, with yet a brighter fianie.
Oh, let ?iie hail thee on some glorious day,
W!je!i to the listening senat<', jinhMit, crowd
r»ritanni.i'8 sons to hear her plea(l<'(l cause.
Th< ju dress'd by the. , more anii.iljly fair,

060

WiNTKtt

Truth tho soft robe of mild persuusinn woars.

Tliou to is;>S''..tiii«( rcisoii *(iv'.st again

Her own enlighteiiM tliouglits : cull'd from the he«iit

Tlie obedient y)a.ssions on tJiy voice uttcnd ;

And evrn reiuctaut party feels awhile

Thy gracious power ; Jt tlirough tlie varied nia/e

Of eloquence, now smooth, now qui-k, now stion^,

Profound and clear, you roll the copious tlood

>'i^»

670

A80

Frost and its Effects.

To tliy lov'd liaunt return, my happy muse ;
For now, behold, the joyous winter days,
Frosty, succeed ; and tlirough the blue serene.
For sight too line, the ethereal nitre Hies,
Killing infectious damps, and the spent air
Storing afresh with elemental life.
Close crowds the shining atmospliere, and binds
Our strengthened liodies in its cold embrace.
Constringent ; feeds and animates our blood ;
ll«'lines our spirits, through the now-strung nerves,
In swifter sallies darting to the brain.
Where sits the soul, intense, collected, cool,
iJriiiht as the skies, and as tlie season kcciL
All nature f(;els the renovating force
Of Winter, only to the thoughtless eye
In ruin seen. The frost-concocted glebe
Draws in abundant vegetable soul,
And gathers vigour for the coming y«'ar.
A stronger glow sits on the lively cheek
Of ruddy tire ; and luculent along
Tin- purer rivers flow ; their sullen dreps,
Transparent, open to the sheplu'rd's gaze.
And niurmur hoarser, at the fixing frost.

What art thou, frost ? and wlienoe are thy keen stores

ftlR SKAfiOMS.

Deriv'd, thou secret, all-iijvjulinjL; power,
Whom even the illrsive fluid cannot fly?
Ib not thy potent ent^gy, unseen.
Myriads of little sfilts, or hook'd, or Bhap'd
Like double wedges, and difl*us'd inunonse
Through water, earth, and ether ? Hence at eve,
Steam'd eager from the red horizon round.
With the tierce rage of Winter deep suflus'd,
An icy gale, oft shifting, o'er the pool
Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career
Arrests the bickering stream. The loosen'd ice,
Let down the flood, and half-dissolv'd by day,
Uustltis no more ; but to the sedgy bank
Fast grows, or gathers lound the pointed stono,
A crystal pavement, by the breath of hi^avcn
Cemented firm ; till, seized from shore to shore,
The whole imprison'd river growls below.
Ijoud rings the frozen earth, and luird reflects
A double noise ; while, at his evening watch,
The village dog deters the nightly tliief.
The heifer lows : the distant water-fall
Swells in the breeze ; and with th(? hasfey tread
Of traveller, the hollow-sounding plain
Shakes from afar. Tlie full ethereal round.
Infinite worlds diselosing to the view.
Shines ou'u intensely keen ; and al! one cope
Of stiirry glitter glows from pole to pole.
Prom pole to pole the rigid influence falls,
Through the still night, incessant, heavy, strong,
And « i/es iv ture fast. It freezes on,
Till nior»» Uiib 'ising o'er the drooping world.
Lifts her pal e%*' unjoyous. Then appears
The various ifibo^r «>£ the silent night :
Prone from the dripping cave, and dumb cascade,

720

T80

740

WINTER.

Whose idle torrents only scmmii to ro.ir,
The pendent icicle ; the frost-work fair,
Where transient hues and fancied liguros rise ;
Wide-spouted o'er the hill, the frozen brook,
A livid tract, cold gleaming on the morn ;
The forest bent beneath the plumy wave ;
And by the frost refin'd, the whiter snow
Incrusted hard, and sounding to the tread
Of early shepherd, as he pensive seeks
If is pining flock, or from the mountain top,
Plcas'd with the slippery surface, swift d(>scends.

Various Winter Amusements.

On blithesome frolics bent, the youthful swains.
While every work of man is laid at rest.
Fond o'er the river crowd, in various sport
And revelry dissoiv'd ; when; mixing glad,
Hap{)iest of all the train ! IIhj raptur'd boy
Lashes the whirling top. Or, where t\w. lihino
Hranched out iu many a long canal oxttuids.
From ever}' province swai-ming; void of care,
Batavia rushes forth ; and as they sweep,
On bonding skates, a tlioiiKand diflerent ways,
In circling poise, swift as the winds, along.
The then gay land is madden'd all to joy.
Nor less the northern courts, wide o'er the snow,
Pour a new pomp. Eager, on rapid sleds.
Their vigorous youth in bold contention wli.^el
Their long-resounding course. Mejintime, to raise
The manly strife, with highly blooming ch.ii ms,
Flush'd by tke season, Scandinavia's dames.
Or HusKia's buxom daughters, glow around.

Pure, (|uick, and sportful, is the wholesome day j
liiil aooii elautt'd. The horizon! i\ mn^

m ^

7bp

THE SEASONS.

Broad o'or tho soutli, hangs at liis utmost noon,
And, inettoctual, strikes the gelid cliff.
His azure gloss the mountain still maintains,
Nor feels the feeble touch. Perhaps the vale
ll<Oents awhile to the reflected ray.
Or from the forest falls the clustor'd snow,
Myriads of gems, that in the waving gleam
Gay-twinkle as they scatter. Thick around
Thunders the sport of those who, with the gun
And dog impatient bounding at tlu^ shot,
Worse than the season, desolate the Hclds ;
And, adding to the ruins of the year.
Distress 'he footed or the feather'd game.

Winter in Extreme Northern Regions.

liut what is this? our infant Winter sinks.
Divested of his grandeur, should our eye
Astonisji'd shoot into the frigid zone ;
Where, for relentless motiths, continual night
Holds o'er the glittering waste her starry nngn.
There, through the prison of unbounded wilds,
Barr'd by the hand of nature from escape.
Wide oanis the Russian exile. Nought around
Strikes hia sad eye, but deserts lost in snow;
And heavy-loaded groves ; and solid floods,
That stretch, athwart the solitary vast.
Their icy horrors to the frozen main ;
And cheerless towns, far-distant, never bless'd.
Save when its annual course the caravan
I {ends to the golden coast of rich Cathay,
With news of human kind. Yet thrro, life «,'lowa
Yet, cherished there, iKMieath the shining waste,
Tin? furry nations harbour ; tipp'd with jet,
Fair ermines, spoth^ss as the snows tlujy press ;

800

61P

WlNTKtt.

Sa))los, of ^'lossy hl:ick ; nnd daik onihrown'd,
Or l)('!iut<'ous frtiak'd with iiuiny u mingled hue,
Thousands besides, tlie costly pride of courts.
There, warm together pi(»ss'd, the trooping deer
Sleep on the new-fall'n snows ; and, scarce his head
liais'd o'er the heapy wreath, the branching elk
Lies slumbering sullen in the white abyss.
The ruthless hunter wants not dogs nor toils.
Nor with the dread of sounding bows lie drives
The fearful, flying race : with ponderous clubs.
As weak against the mountain lieaps they push
Tlieir beating breast in vain, and piteous bray,
He lays them quivering on the ensanguin'd snows,
And with loud shouts rejoicing bears them home.
Theie through the piny forest half absoipt,
liough tenant of thcise shades, the shapeless bear,
Witli dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn.
Slow-pac'd, and sourer as the storms increase,
H(? makes his bed beneath the inclement diift.
And, with stern patience, scorning weak complaint,
Hardens his heart against assailing want

Wide o'er the spacious regions of the north,
That see Bootes urge his tardy wain,
A boisterous race, by frosty Caurus pierc'd,
Wiio little pleasure know, and fear no pain,
Prolific swarm. They once relum'd tlie flame
Of lost mankind in polish'd slavery sunk,
Drove martial horde on horde, with dreadful sweep
Resistle,ss rush'ng o'er the enfeebled south,
And gave the vanquish'd world another form.
Not such the sons of Lapland : wisely tliey
Despise the insensate barbarous trade of war.
Tiicy ask no more tiian simple nature gives ;
Tiiey love their mountains and enjoy their storms.

820

1i4

880

840

■ ^

r ■

. fi

t \

TIIE aRAHOKS.

No f»lse (lesirps, no pride-croatcd wants,

Disturb the pcjiccful nii ront of their time.

And through th*- restless, ever-tortur<'(l nwize

Of pleasure or ambition, bid it raj^e.

Their rein-deer form their riches. Tli(5se their tents,

Their robes, their beds, and all their homely wealth,

Supply, their wholesome fare, and cheerful cups.

Obse(|uious at their call, the docile tiibe

Yield to the sled their necks, and whirl them swift

O'er hill and dale, heap'd into one expanse

( )f marbled snow, as far as eye can sw(u»p,

With a blue crust of ice, unbounded, glaz'd.

By dancing meteors then, that cea.seless shake

A waving blaze refracted o'er the heavens.

And vivid moons, and stars that keener play

With double lustre from the glossy waste,

Even in the depth of polar night, they Hnd

A wondrous day ; enough to light the chase,

Or guide tlieir daring steps to Finland fairs.

Wish'd spring returns ; and from the hazy south.

While dim Aurora slowly moves ])efore,

Tlie welcome sun, just verging up at first,

By small degrees extends the sw(;l!ing curve ;

Till seen at last for gay rejoicing months.

Still round and round liis spiral course he winds ;

And, as he nearly dips his Haming orb,

Wheels up again, and re-ascends the sky.

In that glad season, from the lakes and Hoods,

Where pure Niemi's fairy mountains rise,

And fring'd with roses, Tenglio rolls his stream,

They draw the copious fry. With these at eve.

They cheerful — loaded to their tents repair;

Where, all day long in useful cares employed,

Their kind, unblemished wives the tire prepare.

8ftrt

8(K)

870

880

WiNTEtt. 71

Thricf, liappy race! by poverty secur'd

From n';;al plunder and rapacious power:

111 wlinui fell inten'st never yet has sown

The setnls of vice : whose spotJess swains ne'er knew

Injurious deed, nor, blasted by th«» breath

Of faithless love, their blooming daut^htiu's woe.

Still pressing on bc^yond Tornea's lake,
And Hecla tlaniing through a waste of snow,
And farthest Greenland, to the pole itself.
Where, failing gradual, life at length goes out, ^

The muse expands her solitary flight ;
And. hovering, o'er the wild stupendous scene,
B(>hold8 new seas beneath another sky.
Thron'd in his palace of cerulean ice.
Here winter holds his unnjoicing court ;
And, througli his airy hall, the loud misrulo
Of driving tempest is for ever heard ;
Here the '^rim tyrant meditates his wrath ;
Here arms hie winds with all-subduing frost ;
Moulds his HiTce hail, and treasures up his snows, go^

With which he now oppresses lialf the globe.

Thence, winding eastward, to the Tartar's coast,
She sweeps the howling margin of the main ;
Where, undissolving, from the first of time,
Snows swell on snows amazing to tlie sky ;
And icy mountains high on mountains pil'd,
Seem to the shivering sailor from afar.
Shapeless and white, an atmosphere of clouds.
Projected huge, and horrid, o'er the surge,
Alps frown on Alps ; or, rushing hideous down, no

As if old chaos was again return'd,
Wide rend the deep, and shake the solid pole.
Ocean itself no longer can resist
The binding fury ; but in all its rage

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TIIR fiRASONfl.

if.

li i

III!

Of tempest, taken by tlie houndless frost,

Is many a fathom to the bottom cliain'd,

And bid to roar no more : a bleak expanse,

Shagg'd o'er with wavy rocks, cheerless and void

Of every life, thrit from the dreary months

Fli' s conscious southward. Miserable they !

Who, here entangled in the gatliering ice,

Take their last look of the descending sun ;

While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost,

The long, long night, incunjbent o'er tlieir heads.

Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's fate,

As with first prow (what have not Ihitons daj''d?)

He for the passage sought, attempted since

So much in vain, and seeming to be shut

By jealous Nature with eternal bars.

In these fell regions, in Arzina caught.

And to the stony deep his idle ship

Immediate seal'd, he with his hapless crew,

Each full exerted at his several task.

Froze into statues ; to the cordage glued

The sailor and the pilot to the helm.

Hard by these shores, where scarce his freezing stream
Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of men ;
And, half-enliven'd by the distant sun.
That rears and ripens man as well as plants,
Here human nature wears its rudest form.
Deep from the piercing season, sunk in caves,
Here, by dull fires, and with anjoyous cheer,
Tiiey waste the tedious gloom. Immers'd in furs.
Doze the gross race. Nor sprightly jest, nor song,
Nor tenderness, they know ; nor aught of life.
Beyond the kindred bears that stalk without ;
Till morn at length, her roses drooping all,
Sheds a long twilight, brightening o'er their fields.
And calls the quiver'd savage to the chase.

020

030

e4u

WINTER.

Panegyric on Peter the Great.

What cannot active government perform ; 950

New-moulding man ? Wide stretching from these shores,
A people savage from remotest time,
A huge neglected empire, one vast mind,
liy Heaven inspir'd, from Gothic darkness call'd.
Immortal Peter ! first of monarchs ! He
His stubborn country tam'd, her rocks, her fens,
Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting sons ;
And, while the fierce barbarian he subdued, •

To more exalted soul he rais'd the man.
Ye shades of ancient heroes, ye who toil'd ggo

Through long successive ages to build up
A labouring plan of state, behold at once
The wonder done ! Behold the matchless prince
Who left his native throne, where reign'd till then
A mighty shadow of unreal power ;
Who greatly spurn'd the slothful pomp of courts;
And roaming every land — in every port.
His sceptre laid aside, with glorious hand
Unwearied plying the mechanic tool — • •

Gather'd the seeds of trade, of useful arts, qjq

Of civil wisdom, and of martial skill.
Cliarg'd with the stores of Europe, home he goes ;
Tlien cities rise amid the illumin'd waste ;
O'er joyless deserts smiles the rural reign ;
Far-distant flood to flood is social join'd.
Tho astonish'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar;
Proud navies nde on seas that never foainVl
With daring keel before ; and armies strf^tch
Each way their dazzling files, repressing here
The frantic Alexander of tho north, ^g^^

And awing there stern Othnian's shrinking sons. . ^ •
Sloth flies the land, and ignorance, and vice, t

lij

I- I

THE SEASONS.

Of old dishonour prond ; it glows around,
Taught by the royal hand that rous'd the whole,
One scene of arts, of arms, of rising trade :
For what his wisdom plann'd, and power enforc'd,
More potent still, his great example show'd.

A T^aw Producingr Floods and Icebergrs.

Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point,
Blow hollow-blustering from the south. Subdued,
The frost resolves into a trickling thaw.
Spotted the mountains shine : loose sleet descends,
And floods the country round. The rivers swell.
Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills.
O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts,
A thousand snow-fed torrents shoot at once ;
And, where they rush, the wide-resounding plain
Is left one slimy waste. Those sullen seas,
That wash'd the ungenial pole, will rest no more
Beneath the shackles of the mighty north ;
But, rousing all their waves, resistless heave.
And, hark ! the lengthening roar continuous runs
Athwart the rifted deep : at on«e it bursts.
And piles a thousand nioinitans to the clouds.
Ill fares the bark, with trembling wretches charg'd,
That, toss'd amid the floating fragments, moors
Beneath the shelter of am icy isle.
While night o'erwhelms the sea, and horror looks
More horrible. Can human force endure
The assembled mischiefs that besiege them round?
Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness.
The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice.
Now ceasing, now renew'd with louder rage.
And in dire echoes bellowing rouud the main,
More tp embroil the deep, Leviathan

990

1000

1010

WINTER. 75

And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport,

Tempest the loosen'd brine, while, tlirougli the gloom,

Far from the bleak inliospitable shore.

Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl

Of faniisli'd monsters there awaiting wrecks.

Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye, loo^

Looks down with pity on the feeble toil

Of mortals lost to lioi)e, and lights them safe,

Through all this dreary labyrinth of fate.

Human Life Compared to the Changing Seasons.

'Tis done ! dread AVinter spreads his latest glooms.
And reigns tremendous o'er the concjucr'd year.
How dead the vegetable kingdom lies !
How dumb the tuneful ! Horror wid(i extends
His desolate domain. Behold, fond man !
See here thy pictur'd life ! Pass some few years,
Thy (lowering Spring, tliy Sunnner's ardent strengtli, ]o::o
Tliy sober Autumn fading into age,
And i>ale concluding Winter comes at last,
And sliuts the scene. Ah ! whither now are fled
Those dreams of greatness ? those unsolid liopes
Of happiness ? those longings after fame ?
Those restless cares ? those busy bustling days ?
Those gay-spent festive nights? those veering thoughts.
Lost between good and ill, that shar'd thy life ?
All now are ^•anisl^d ! Virtue sole sur\i\es,
hnmortal, never-failinu' friend of man, io4(i

His guide to happiness on higli. And see !
'Tis come, the glorious morn ! the second biith
Of heaven and earth ! Awakonim-- nature; liears
The new-creating word, and starts to life,
In every heighten'd form, from pain and dcaili
Pur ever free. The great eternal scheme,

^11

THE SEASONS.

Involving all, and in a perfect whole

Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads,

To reason's eye refin'd clears up apace.

Ye vainly wise ! ye blind presumptuous ! now,

Confounded in the dust, adore tliat Power,

And Wisdom oft arraign'd : see now the cause,

Why unassuming wortli in secret liv'd.

And died neglected ; why the good man's share

In life was gall and bitterness of soul ;

W^hy the lone widow and her orphans pin'd

In starving solitude — while luxury,

In palaces, lay straining her low thought.

To form unreal wants : why lieaven-born truth,

And mod'^ration fair, wore the red marks

Of superstition's scourge ; why licens'd pain.

That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe,

Embittered all our bliss. Ye good disties'd !

Ye noble few ! who here unbendinii: stand

Beneath life's pressure, yet Lr^ar up awhile ;

And what your bounded view, which only saw

A little part, deem'd evil, is no more.

The storms of wintry time will- quickly pass,

And one unbounded Spring encircle all.

1050

lOiJO

END OP WINTEH.

.^3

NOTES.

AUTUMN.

1. Orcywn'd limits Autumn.

sickle. — Contrast with modern implements.
"Wlieaten. — Of wheat. Seldom used now.

3. jovial. — Like Jove (Jupiter), merry and sociable. If the planet
Jupiter were in the ascendant at one's birth, it was ]>rognoatic of a happy
and successful life. Compare mercurial and saturnine.

Doric reed, i.e., pastoral poetry, which among the Greeks was con-
fined to the Doric dialect, and was written by Theocritus, Bion and Moschus.
Reeds were the origin of musical pipes of all kinds. What are the chief
characteristics of pastoral poetry? Name any English writers of this
variety of poetry.

5. Nitrous is an adv. The meaning of the word here is hard to see,
unless allusion is made to the great fertilizing power of nitre and other
salts. The construction is, " Whatever has been prepared by Winter, pro-
mised by Spring, and ripened by Summer, now rushes perfected to view."
—Morris. But see notes to Winter, 1. 694.

6-7. promise.— Blossom.

COTlCOCted. — Ripened. Lat. meaning. Parse rush and swell,

9. OnslO"W. — Speaker of the House of Commons from 1728 to 1761.
His duty would be to listen to the public voice (11), to keep order, and not
to make speeches (15).

13-14. A strange succession of images ; the virtues distend his mind,
:uo spread on his brow, and burn in his bosom. Compare Burke, '* thou-
sands hung with rapture on his accents." Panegyric on Sheridan.

15-18. Senate would better apply to the House of Lords, but is hero
used poetically for any deliberative assembly.

devolving". — Employed in an unusual sense. Derive, and exem-
plify its ordinary meaning.

periods. — In oratory and poetry the usual word for sentence.
Strictly spe.aking, a period, as compared with a loose sentence, is one in which
the meaning remains in suspense till the sentence is finished.

she too. — The muse, referring to the poets and other literary
men opposed to Walpole and calling themselves patriots. Walpole was
essentially a peace minister.

pants for.— Eagerly desires.

[77]

N0TR8.

M. Notice the of after weak, yet in .if tpr scrnnpf. ,

23-4. Virgo, the Virgin. — The 0th division or sign of the Zixliiic, bo,ii:i)i.
ning on the 21st August. Libra, the balance, is the next, beginning LMst
Kopteniber, when the days and nights are eqnal. Libra wouldbo just liii'if-
way in the old Roman year, which began in March.

25. The effulgence (nom. abs.) of parting Summer being sha/coo fruni
heaven's canopy.

20-7. enlivened. — Notice the antithesis to the idea in serene. Wt;
apply the term relieved to occasional and pleasing changes from a dull
monotony of colour.

attempered.— Softened.

29. lucid. — Clear, from the light of the sun. Pellucid is common in
this sense.

30-2. Notice the alliteration, and the beauty of the i)ictin-o.

33. Many poets have this thought, but few have so liappily expressed it
as Thomson in this line ; so in lines 37-0.

34. niifled.— Disturbed ; we speak of ruffled temper, and ruffled water,
but never of ruffled air.

poise. — Ecjuilibrium.

35-0. gives, i.e., causes the breezes to blow. A similar use of gives

occurs in Coleridge's lines to Genevieve,

" Yet not your heavenly beauty gives
This heart with passion soft if) fifZow."

37. different. — In different direction; the root meaning (derive), but
«f-'r!ms very harsh here. Note the frequency and freedom with which T.
■v'^es adjectives with an adverbial force.

38. Give different meanings of the word fit.

40-2. a view unbounded tossing.— Nom. absol.

41. shoot.— See W., lines 795-0.

43. Why is Industry called a rough power ?
These.— What?

45. source.— In apposition with Industry.

40. civility. — Refinement, opposite of wild, savage. Latin use. Com-
pare urbanity.

47. Notice T. says cast out by Nature, not by God. Explain the
allusion.

50. et seq. Compare a passage at the close of Browning's Paracelsus,
commencing, "Wherefore take accounts of feverish starts." — Morris.

52. (with) materials poured around.

58. unconscious, i.e., of these g^eds f^nd materials.

AUTUMN.

:hakih fvuiu

common in

r>4, corruption.— Produce of nature allowed to rot and spoil.
5(5. savage, i.e., tlie year of the savage — transferred epithet.
57-1). sad. — Gloomy, sullen, like Lat. tristis.

tusky.— Commonly tusked.
()0-(;2. What figure here ?

let fly seems a low expression for this place.
(V,\-4. he sordid pined away the season.

sordid — Dirty and uncarcd for.

season.— What case ?
r»."). resort of is usually followed an object denoting a ]ier.snn ; "fiT-
qunited by " is an equivalent phrase.
70. Is even correctly placed ?
74. Is unfolded trans, or intrans. ?
7r'-G. lavish. -Sj-nonyme?

to raise. — Increase.

77. mechanic— What is the usual word?

78. vaulted. — What is meant?

79. Extracting metals from their ores.

80. Does this line refer in a general way to the employment of water and
wind in the mechanical arts, or has it ^.pecial reference to their xxse in con-
nection with mineral products ?

S2. chip.— Chop.

81. blood polluted, i.e., untanned.
8(5. bright. —Adv.

lawn.— A fine kind of linen used for bishops' sleeves, and in con-
sequence the words latvn-sleeves are often used to designate a bishop. Com-
pare ermine ; see note on Winter, 1. 812.

88. generous glass inspired.— T. probably had in his mind the
words of Jotham, Judges 9-18, " Wine which cheereth God and man." But
in the next line, if he had put indecent instead of decent, many will think he
would have been nearer the mark.

90. barren and bare are here properly enough used together, for
although they are probably from the same roct (A. S. bar, naked), they have
diverged in their la';er applications. This process of divergence and dis-
crimination goes on i:n every language, but the English being very composite
in its character, and having- borrowed so largely, has had very many such
points of departure, and hence the language is very rich in synonymes.

06. There are two ti.eories as to the origin of society ; one that it was
made ; the other that it grew. The first is called the doctrine of the
original contract, and is fully expounded by Hume in his essays. Accord-
ing to it, men feeling the isolation of living separately, met together in a
large plain, and agreed to form a society and give 'iiat society a government.

)

li ^ r

NOTES.

^■1

Tt is almoHt ncrdlfsp to iulH, tliut tliis theory is opimsed to historical evi-
(Icnco ; there is no record or trace of the meeting. The other theory is that
society began with the family, grew larger, and so became the state. On
this theory, with its ])r( ofs, vide Mainc^s Ancient Law, chap, v., Thomson
evidently favours the first view, which is now antiquated but was then
generally accepted. It is rather a stretch, even of this theory, to make
parliamentary institutions after the English model, the earliest form of
government. — Morru. T., alv%ays an admirer of the British Constitutitm,
seems quite unconscious of its defects ; for instance, line 100 is quite mis-
leading, and an advanced English Radical or Irish Home Ruler would see
considerable satire in 11. 105-8.

90. Scan this line and ^wint out others with similar irregularities.

104. If his reference is to England, as is ])vobably the case, the Hano-
verians were certainly the nominees of the Parliament. The first two
(leorges, being foreigners and incapable of wielding personal political
infiuence, l<?ft the helm of state to their ministries, which was no doubt best
for the country. The third George wished to be King again in the old
pre-revolution wa}', and our American colonies were lost to us.

105. . . . This line means those who are not patriots, but merely eager
for their own advancement.

111. "WTOUgrht. — Intrans. This form inshsad of worked is used chiefly
by the northern folk in England. Wrouriht might be taken as a participle,
and apravg or some such verb supplied tvitli form.

112. high.— In aim. '

115-17. Construe, "Drew her sons from twining woody haunts or from
strong-straining the tough yew to bows." From earliest times the yew was
l)ref erred for bows. . . . With what else is the yeto associated in English
literature? See c.jf., sepulchral yew. Lady of the Lake, iii., <S, 9.

120. crane. — The mosL common form consists of an upright, revolving
shaft with a projecting arm at the top. At the end of the arm is a fixed
nnlley, by which tlie weight is raised, and by the revolution of the shaft it
can be deposited anywhere within the length of the arm.

12C. large. — Capacious. The Thames (literally broad- water) is navigable
for barges 200 miles up ; vessels of 1,400 tons can come within five miles of
London ]?ridge. At the Nore it is six miles wide, and eight miles below
eighteen miles wide.

king. — On account of its shipping.

124. groves. — Applicable enough on accoimt of the various docks in
which the different classes of vessels are laid up.

12G. sooty. — Black, perhaps referring to the colliers.

127. barge. — The barges used on ceremonial occasions by the City of
London and the Admiralty are splendid affairs and supplied with many
rowers. A man of war's barge is not usually showy, and is light enough to

AUTUMN.

be easily hi)istc<l in i>r (mt. On our hikes, rivrrs and ciinals, l>ui>::<'s air
clumsy vt'ssL'l.s u.f burden or draught, and are divided intounal-barges, Kiiid-
bar^'^s, etc.

128. rowed. — Pn-inj^ rowed, or better, intransit. i)ast tense.

13;^. What is tlie British thunder ? Why is tiie epithet bluc/i used ?

main.— Ocean.
134. magriiflc. — Not used now ; magnificent.

heaved. — Raised would sreni to be a better word here.
VM\. Why is the word glittering" used?

137. embodied. — Tlie paintings being so life-like, stand out ( prvtiiJm--
ant) from the canvas as if they were the real objects instead of their iriire
sentations. What three arts are referred to in 11. 134-40? Notice the
antithesis in smooth and protuberant.

138. breathe. — Compare Macaulay, PropJucji of Capys, 28,

" The stone that breathes and struggles, ,
The brass that seems to speak."

140. imagination-flushed is an unusual compound, but a very
expressive one.

143. himi. — Notice the gender ? Whymasc. ? What principles influence
us in personification ?

145. idly. — In gusts, or doing no damage.

14(5. The luxuriant wealth of Spring reduced to order and symmetry ;
notions which underlie our ideas of beauty.

148. Nor could Summer transmit, etc.

waving stores is an awkward expression.

154. The peasant women of England often as.'- st in the harvest field.
The scene described belongs to the old sickle or reapinr 'look days.

154. Note the derivation of lass from lad.

150. offices. — Dutiful services, its former meaning

157. lubty. — Vigorous, bulky (here). The noun means desire, and tiiat
in a bad sense.

1('»0. Thomson's apology for the "rural scandal."
to. — So as to.

1(52. The picture of the master behind, shocking or stooking tlie sheaves,
is not an unfamiliar one, even in Canada.

103. conscious. — Feeling and showing satisfaction.

105. Leaving a small i)ortion on the ground for the poor is a very old cus-
tom. The Jews were connnanded to do so. Head Boaz's instructions to
the reapers, Ruth i., 1(5.

100. spike. — ITsed here for an ear of corn or wheat. In botany an in-
florescence, consisting of several flowers sessile on an axis or .single »tem, as
in the mullein.

«:!

-'■ i

NOTK.S.

107. narrow, «.'., f^ti»Ky. ^VIly «l"«'^ 'i«' :til<l in tlm iioxt lino "with
steulth " ?

172. partiierB of your kind. I'^dlow nicnilMrs of your mw.

\7'^. hover. To Iuuijjt lluttfiiiij,' o\rv or about, and llms {j^ivcs tlio idfii
of anxiety iind fxiirctuney.

174. dole. — Siuno root as deal, tliat wliii-li is distributed grudgin,i,'ly
and in sniall portions.

174"). >^yi\^\Ay t/ihtk or rrtf ret \wUnv that. I'araiilirasc the sfiitt'iiof, 17l-(!.
170. What wovd in 17S does the clanso bt^^'iiinin^ \\h\\ for t'X|>lain?
ISO. stay.— Support. ]^xplain wliy innoconce is a wtay,
ISJM. Coniparo lino 115, and ni>tict' the allitoratiun.
188-1). giddy. — Givo tho various uicanin^s.

Almost fed. —I'^xplain what is meant.

IIH). gay. — In ]>hnnage or in 8ong? Wliich meaning agrees best with
the rest of tlie line ?

108. Notice the awkwartl aeeuuiulation of s-soinuls in " wets its leaves."
10t». dejected. — Cjvst down through nu)desty, not thr(»ugh sadness.
li)7. Why himui'/

lOS. ]<jxp]ain wliy the is better than a would be in this line.

2(X>. Construo, "(she being) tlirilled in her thought, they (tho eyes)
shone."'

dewy star of evening.— Not necessarily Venus, but any star.

20.'>-(>. . , . Much quoted linos; the idea is not original with Tliomson,
but his expression of it is a masterpiece.

207-17. T. sent an interleaved copy of the 1736 edition of the Seasons of
Pope. This passage then stood :

" Tlunightless of beauty she was Beauty's self
Kecluse among the woods ; if city danu's
Will deign their faith ; and thus she went, compelled
By strong necessity-, with as serene
And pleased a look as Patience e'er put on,
To glean Palemon's fields. "

Poi>e drew his pen thi'ough these lines and wrote those in the t(>xt. Their
beauty makes us regret Pope's writing in rhyme instead of blank verse.
Thcuuson was too shrewd and too pleased not to adtipt all of Pope's correc-
tions, of which there are several. The friendsliip and intimacy of the two
poets is lunu>iu'able to both.

208. recluse. — Distinguish recluse and hermit.

211. The myrtle among the ancients was sacred to Venus as the symbol
of youth and beauty, and is much referred to in poetry. Give the points of
resemblance between the myrtle and Lavinia.

AUTUMN.

Saisons of

215. ct »cq. Tlic story of r.oii' Riul Ruth has »jvidontly Immm in tli*> ixM't'n
iiiitul.

220. Arcjidia, tlio cnntn; diviiiion of the P^'lopomicKiiH, inlialiit«'d by a
|i;ist,nral jKioplc paHHiouivtcfly fond of tnuMic; and dancing'. Tim rlij^'.incc,
lii»\vrv(ir, w!iH iiidrtifXH to th« rest oi (ircvcc, antl tlm term "Arcu'li.m
youth " w.'iM only atiotlicr nann' for a dune*;. Conijjaro thn pliriiHCH " Arc.'idcM
•unbo," and "Arcadian Hiniplicity."- Virg. J'Jcf. vii. 5, x. i{2.

222. T. nioanHtho tyranny of faHhion or Hocijil usagn, but cuHtonis havo
b(M'n thfi fotnuhition of the Common Law as woll.

223. ConKtnio, "To follow naturo freely wa-s tho mode," or "TIm- mode
was free to follow nature."

22!)-.'W. Mueli (juoted lines, expresHivc! through their HU^'j^'estiveneHH. " lie
saw hor charming." Supply "to be." Tho verbs »cc and A//o»i are used in
this way, with tho omission of tho **tobe," which omission is the regular
construction with the verb " lind."

2152-5. Tho connect ion and coherence of thesn linns arc somfswhat obscure.
The s(upience of tcnscH is noi, good. For intnxlucr's the reason of tin- pre-
vious statt ment implied in the word unknown. (Jfmstruo " [Jnknown
to himself, for still tho world and its dread laugh (would have) pnivaihd if
his heart should have owned (for its mistrfsss) a gleaner, etc." The senti-
ment seems contradictory to 11. 222-3, and represents the rustic as fully alive
to social distinctions.

2.%. Notice the alliterative ))eauty and the imagery of this line recalling
the notion of the attendant and guiding dsenum of the ancients. See note
on Winter, 11. 439-435.

2.37. What pity ! — Compare the common phrase, " what a pity."

delicate. — Pleasing to the eye or taste. Explain how this word
has acquired the meaning of ** feeble,*' the opposite of ** robust."

238. Explain the meaning of kindled and enlivening sense.

239. vulgar goodness. — Common goodness ; or perhaps the meaning
is those virtues that belong only to the vulgar (common people).

241. indecent. —Ugly, awkward.

looks. — Appears to be. Parse methinks.

245. gone down.— Limits patron. Notice the peculiar use of
dissolved.

248. " Urged (to retire) by sad remembrance and becoming pride."

252. Parse would and were.

256. surprised. — Took unawares. Comp. 11. 231-2.

25S. smothered.— By what?

259-1(0. Two very expressive lines. , ;

7.1

ftti:

NOTES,

261. confused, frightened, may be taken with beauties, (she), or
with her, if litr be parsed as a pers. pron.

262. To flush a bloom is a rather strange phrase. Bloom may perhaps
be taken in apposition with beauties.

263. passionate.— Full of strong amotion— the root meaning. Com-
pare the phrases, "Passion Week," "Tho Passicmate Pilgrim," etc.

264. rapture. — A state of mind in wliich the attention is carried away

(rapere) from the ordinary things of life and completely engrossed by the

ruling passion or feeling. Compare Byron,

"There is a ])leasvire in the pathless woods,
There is a raptiira on the lonely shore."

265. Lavinia is called his remains, i.e., what is ,. ft or representative
of him. His widow would be called his relict, which has the same root
meaning.

266-7. " Art thou she whcmi, etc." " Thou art the very same, etc."
269. Construe "being alive," or "is here alive."

272. ah. — Weak, seems like padding.

273. sequestered. — " Secluded. In Lat. sequester (sccus) is a trustee
in whoso hands contested property i.s placed jicndente lite. To sequester is
(1) so to place property, (2) to put aside, to withdraw." — Morris. In the
first sense sequestrate is more coramonly used. In Scotch law, sequestration
corresponds to bankruptcy.

274-5. Maybe paraphrased freely, "Thy suiiUng and beauteous form,
expanding and blossoming into the perfection of womanhood."

276-7. So Gray says, "chill penury."

keen applies to the wind, heavy to the rain. A rather
awkward construction.

282. Notice the effective repetition, and the change from the second person
to the tbird.

2.S3. his. — In apposition with Acasto'S, antecedent of whose.
The construction is not uncommon in Latin. Or supply daughter after
his, and parse his as poss. adj.

285. Notice the limping construction, father in apposition with
Acasto'S, a poss, case.

288. shameful pittance.— Why shameful, and to whom?

280, But ill -applied, -111 fitted for,

293. power of blessing thee.— Providhig for her various needs and
for her comfort.

294. Compare Kfj. Lear iv. 5, 25.

297. vulgar joy. —Wiiat is Tiiomaou'a meaning?
299. all.— Quite.

AUTUMN.

302. pierced. — Engrossed in thought for Lavinia's fate. Coniparo
Winter, 286.

304. (She) amazed and scarce believing, etc., joy bej/ed her witliered
veins.

307. (She being) not less enraptured.

311. defeating.— Undoing.

314. murmur is not a good word—; tie would be more imitative of
the sound made.

315. soft-inclining.— Pliant, and consequently bending before the
breeze.

310. fuller.— Adj. for adv.

322. high-beat.— Beaten in their higher parts.

eddy.— Cause to move as an eddy, i.c\, collect.
325. Exposed, naked.— Limit yo/n,

327. Nor can it being whirled in air or shaken wastcfully into worthless
chaff, evade, etc.

332. continuous cannot refer to time ; there is only a burst of rain, for
a time descending in one broad, coniinuous, connected sheet. Coniiuire
(icoryic i., 318.

335. flatted.— The water filling up the hollows and thus levelling the

whole.

sordid. — Full, and therefoi'e unsightly with Hnatiug matter.

337. red. — From the soil washed away.

343-4.— painful. —Laborious.

fled. — Having tied. ^Eneid ii., 305-8.

347. descending.— On the flood.

349-50. unprovided for.

clamant. — Crying out, clam<niring for food.

353. russet. — Reddish brown cloth worn by country ])eoi)le and
labourers on account of its serviceable colour. So, too, from their colour
there are apples called russets.

354. Whose toil is warmth and ornament to your limbs.

355. sparing board.— What is meant ? What figure ?
357. sparkle.— With what?

BQU&e. — Meaning of this word?

358-9. Although these lines are not inconsistent with the payment of a
money-rent, yet perha^js T. had in mind the i/utoi/d' system of hitting land
which gives the landlord a part of th(^ produce as rent. Jn Canada it is not
uncommon, and is called letting on shares. The moral etf«.'et of the system
is maintained by some to be beneficial, but the jtolitical economist views it

NOTES.

as unworthy of general adoption, as it is inconsistent with the cultivation of
large areas or the employment of large capital. See Sismondi, and Rogers*
Pol. Econ.

361. Distinguish winded, winded, and wound.

362-4. game.— Sport.

tainted. — With the scent of the game. The pure-bred Tointor
or Slitter does not advance upon the game.

3G5-G. draws full on.— Approaclies.
sensible.— Perceptive,
latent. —Hiding, the root meaning. Wliat is the deprived meaning?

3G7-S. covey. — A small flock of birds. (Fr. couver, to hatch), most
commonly said of partridges.

every way. — In every direction.

373-7. glanced.— Aimed.

gun o'ertakes.- What figure?

again. — This word seems to relate to the phrase " to the ground. "

towering wing.— Soaring flight,

378. various. — ^Notice how very freely T. uses adjectives with an
adverbial force.

381. Then she is most delighted. Does social limit she or creation ?

384. game of death, i.e., the chase, in apposition with it in 383. All
the Germanic nations have been fond of it. A humorous story is told of
a French traveller, who observed that whenever one Englishman said bo
another, "it is a fine day," the answer generally was, **yes, let us go and
kill something." — Morris.

385-8. rag'e of pleasure. — Would rage /or pleasure have exactly the
same force ?

youth. — Ob j. after "awakes."

ranged. — Pro v. 28, 15. Give the other meanings of range.

389. conscious. — Transferred epithet.

390. steady. — Constant of purpose, never ceasing.

395. gentle days. — Explain the force of the epitliot.

396. ravening. — Voracious. See Genesis 49, 27.

wanton. — Given to excess. The root meaning is '* unrestrained ;*'
see Skeat.

398-400. Relation of fed and rolled? Account for the singular is.
horrid. — T. uses this word in two senses, " bristling," the root
meaning, and " terrible," the common meaning. For the first, see A. 400,
772, 782, W. 390, 829. Of course there are many places where either mean-
ing will do.

401. Compare Cowper's opinion of the sport, Task iii., 320-331.

AUTUMN.

timid hare.— See n. on IT., 258. Hares (Leporidai) are found in
both American continents, but in far greater numbers in the temperate parts
of N. A. The chief species are the northern hare and the wood hare or
grey rabbit. They change colour more or less in winter.

402. Scare is a ,good word here, as the meaning is sufldenly frighted.
In Canada ** scared" is often improjierly \ised for " afraid."

seat or form is the technical word for the place in which the haro
takes refuge.

404. chapped. — In gaps or cracks ; often applied to the hands.

405. lawn. — Here simply a green field.

broom. — The broom and furze (calhid also whin and gorso) are
varieties of the same order, PapiUonaceaB. Tlie broom grows farther to tlie
north than the furze ; they are both shrub-like in form, and both inhabit
sandy upland tracts, and are covered M'ith numerous solitary yellow flowers.
Broom has been used to some extent in the arts, as tanning, dyeing, and its
fibres have been even made into a coarse cloth. Furze in some countries, as
Normandy, is cultivated as fodder, but only of course upon otherwise unpro-
ductive soils.

40(5. fern. — The two preceding jjlants are not inciigenous to Ontario, but
the ferns are numerous and found on every woody upland and river bottom.

407. fallow. — Ploughed, but lying idle for the season ; of ten incorrectly
pronounced "follow" in Canada.

408. concoctive. — Ripening. See W., 70G n.
nodding. — Overhangmg, sheltering.

412. The v/ide range of the eye being a ])rovi,sion for its safety.

413. To escape observation and the better to hear.
415-16. labyrinth.— Involved course.

openings. — Barking of the dogs on first catching sight of
the game.

417. coming storm.— What is meant ?

418. nearer, more frequent.— Attributive to it; an unusual
inversion.

loads.— See W., 1018.

amazed. — Struck with sudden fear. Usually derived from a
(intensive, Skeat) and maze ; but, according to Stormonth, from the same
source as dismayed (O. F. s'esmaicr, to be sad), a derivation wliich suits the
use of the word in the text.

421. full-opening.— See n. on 416.

vario^lS. — In different tones ; see n. on 378.
424. all. — Sums up the nom. abs., pack, horn, steed, shout.

426. Is where correctly used ?

427. ranged.— See n. (.u 388.
monarch.— Case ?

iiiii
it 1 ill

KOTES.

It'! I

428. tempest.— Compare 317.
drives.— Intr.

429. sprightly, i.e., sprite-like or spirit-like Has the notion of cheei
fulness added to that of " aerial soul " (430).

431-2. Are these lines true to nature ? Parse way and more.

435-6. — These lines have been much admired. Give reasons why. Htnv
would the employment of singular nouns affect tlie lines ?

437-40. The inhuman rout adhesive — come sure, if slow, etc.
. . . rout. — Clamorous crowd.

shift. — Exi>edient. Give the other meanings of these two words.

441. sobbing. —Compare Scott's " While every gasp with sobs he
drew. " L. of L. 1, vii.

444. "WOnt. — Was wont. The word as a verb is now out of use ; but as
a noun and an adj., in the senses of *' custom " and " accustomed," is (luitc
common.

446. Tries to lose the scent and tries to lave ; laves would seem to be
better. Notice the causative force of lose.

449. vivid seems to have same meaning as *' so full of buoyant spirit.''
Compare above (429-30) " sprightly " auc^ "aerial soul."

452. sick refers to *' toil," but the wliole expression is awkward. " Sick
at heart" is the common phrase used of mental states. Great anxiety df
mind affects powerfully the stomach and the heart ; this is no doubt true of
the lower animals also. See Darwin on the " Expression of Emotions in
Men and Animals."

at bay, i.e., in a bay formed by the dogs surrounding. Another
and better derivation makes hay signify the baying (Fi". aboiement) of the
dogs from the O. F. aboi, the barking of a dog.

454. — big tears.— See As You Like It, ii. 1-38. Horses and seals are
said to weep.

456. Blood-happy. — Hai>py at the taste of blood. This would seem a
ratlier startling compound with any other poet.

457. chequered.— Streaked and spotted with blood.

459. Notice the similar root meanings of '* fervent " and " boil."

460. despising flight. — Not strictly true ; all wild animals seem by
instinct to recognize man's superiority, and very soon learn to fear and
avoid him. See W., 406 n.

461. roused up.— (rcn. 49, 9, "Who will rouse him up."

462. protended.— Stretched forward, the root meaning.

463. coward- band. — Must refer to times or places in which the ritle
v^au unknown.

AUTUMN.

on of cheei

464. slunk.— Haxnng slunk, or by poetic license for slinking, creeping.
troubled.— By what ?

465-6. shaggy foe.— The wolf-dog.

ruffian.— Seldom used of beasts.

467. brindled.— Coloured in stripes: also "lirinded," a form Sliaks.
used, as in Macbeth; the first witch says, "Thrice tlie In-inded cat hath
mew'd."— Act iv.

growling horrid.— Attributive to boar. See n. on 418.

468. grins.— Refers to the tusks (the canine teeth) which protrude, and
are formidable weapcms of defence.

469. lighten.— Light or alight would now be used ; in or on would be
a more suitable preposition than to.

nervous. — Has the same meaning as in the phrase, " a ncivous
style," i.e., full of strength and vigour. Note the very opposite n\caning,
weak and spiritless.

470. These Britain knows not.— Yet T. r«>commends the youth to
hunt them. The lion in historic times never inhabited Britain, ])ut wild
hoars and wolves were numerous and had rewards offered for i\\v\v heads.
Wolves were not entirely extinct at the middle of the last century.

470-2. loose.— Adj. to fury or udv. to pour. With the phrase " give
your fury to pour," compare *' give thee to shine." W. 661 and note.
nightly. — What two meanings ? Which preferable here ?
473. Driven from his burrow.
475. Bound high o'er.

throw. — What is the usual word ?
477. shaking wilderness.— Explain the force of these words.

478-9. nice. — This is a word much used (and abused) in America. The

original meanings, "foolish, particular," may be traced through theFr. nicCy

fooUsh, simple to the Latin nescius. T! is is supported by Pope's rhyme,

" Tlius critics, of less judgment than caprice,
Curious, not knowing, not exact but nice."

Bear. — Advance.

481. sonorous, running, tossed.— Limits triumph.

485. So Shaks. Henry IV., i. 1, "He seemed in running to devour the
way."

488. guile. — A doublet of wile. Wliich is the more common word in
this sense? Compare the similar doul)lets, guard and ward, guarantee and
warrant.

489. Disclosed.— Parse.

494. ... ghostly seems imexpected and out of place, as introducing au
idea quite irrelevant to this description.

^l!

I ■ ii

El!

-i

if I

NOTES.

495-7. fox's fur depending. — In a fox hunt, to be first in at the
death, and to secure the brush mark the hero of the day.
depending.— Harging down.

497. antic. — Antique, ancient. So Milton, II. Pens.,
" And love the high embowed roof
With antic pillars massy proof."

499. Some i^araphrase thus: " Tliey stagger under the excessive drinking
which even the Centaurs couldn't ociual, although they were note<l drinkers."
See Hor. Odes i., 18-8, and W, n,, 1. 42. Or it may mean, " When the
night, exhausted by the recounting of feats unequalled by the Centaurs, is
retreating before the coming day."

501. their.— What is the antecedent ? See 11. 493-4.

wonders.— What figure ?
502-5. foam.— With ale.

sirloin. — The loin is saitl to have been sportively knighted by
Charles II., or, according to others, James I., but unfortunately for this
derivation the word is found to have been in existence before the time
of James I. Probably the same as Fr. sur-Ioiu/r.

desperate. — Althougli it seems an overstrong word, it gives us a
lively idea of their appetites made keen by exercise, and their consequent
rude way of eating.

508. hence, i.e., ham the " Roast Beef of Old England," which is the
theme and title of Fielding's song. Beef -eating is popularly supposed tob
the real cause of England's superiority in arms and industry, ii not in litera-
ture ; but the lowest classes eat very little meat of any kind on account of
its dearness ; to which fact some sarcastically say their content and humility
is due. (See Mr. Bumble's observations in Oliver Twist.)

508. amain. — From A. S. maegen, strength, with energy. Compare
the phrase " with might and main."

513. bowl. — The punch bowl. Punch was named, it is said, from being
composed of five ingredients (Hindoo "panch " five). As now made, the basis
is some form of spirit, e.g., whiskey, brandy or rum, with lemon, nutmeg,
sugar, hot water, milk, etc. Fifty or sixty years ago it was a conmion
drink, but it is. now rarely seen, being perhaps a little too potent for the
moderation and decorum of these latter days.

516. Mala. — Daughter of Atlas and mother of Mercury by Jove, was
the eldest of the Pleiades. As there is no ai)tness in her being named,
Maia is here probably put for the month of May. — Morris.

517.— diflfused.— Reclining— probably in imitation of Virgil's " fusi per
herbam."

519. brO"Wll October. — October refers to the month of brewing.
Ale is doubtlesa meant, although the term brown better applies to porter,
invented by Harwood in ITST. Ac Autumn wm publiahnd in 1.7ao, and T.

AUTUMN.

mentions thirty years as the age of the liquor, he nmat rofor to ale. The
brown colour of porter is due to the employment of malt rousted till it
becomes brown.

520. mature. — Mellows and strengthens by keeping.

521. honest front.— Why is this expression used of tlie ale as against
the wine ?

522. produce.— Note the accent.

525. grave sound. — Grave (dull in some editions) may refer to the
fact that whist (from vhist / be silent), more than most games at cards,
requires close attention and thought; perhaps because it is chieHy played
by elderly people.

527. thunder.— An absurd hyperbole.

528. gammon.— The backgammon board. Distinguish gammon in ita
different meanings and derivations.

531. puling. — Whim] )ering, but hero "feeble," " inane."
frequent. — Crowded. C()nq)ai'e Lat. frcqucns scnatus.

531. Divan is a Persian word with various meanings :
(i.J A register of payments or accounts,
('ti J A collection of poems by an author. /

(Hi.) An executive board, as the Privy Council of the Sultan.
(iv.J A reception room in palaces.
(v.) A low sofa or cushioned seat.

(vi.) (Eng.) A coffee-house where smoking is the chief pastime.
534. sober-shift, I.e., expedient to keep sober.

536-7. Swimming, as we say, before their eyes.

fuddled. — Stupefied or unsteady with drink.

538. mutual. — Common.

swill. — Drinking greedily. Gomus, 178.

544. catch. — A short vocal composition, sung by two or more voices
which come in after one other, one catching up the melody as another drops
it. Frequently, too, the different parts have different words.

546. full-mouthed cry.— A hunting term applied to the opening cry
of the pack ; in full cry.

547. jocund curse. — An unusual coupling.

548. shook. — Give the proper form, and the meaning.
550. Supply the clause with as in this line, and in 559.

553. cumbrous. — Show the force of the epithet.

554. dissolved.— Paralyzed.

maudlin. — Swollen and bleared with tlio tears that flow in this
ptafT(> of intoxication. Derived from Mary Magdalen, whom the old paintem
reyrtJtMjnted with auffuftedi infiaii>«d «ye».

I '■'

•„■ !

NOTES.

555-6. double tapers. — The same cause for this as for the fioatiiig
table and faithless puvcnu'iit ; indistinct vision.

558. gazetteers.- -Newspapers or journals. ])erivation said to be
from gazetta, a Venetian coin less than a farthing, paid for hearing read the
first newspapers ever issued, in the war between the Venetians and the
Turks, 15G3.

5(>1. Slaughter among so-called good fellows.

5()2. lubber power. — Besotting dninkenness. Lubber from the Gaelic
(leobhar) means a chniisy fellow.

inclining". — Swaying. The passage suggests tlie lucture of
drunken old Silenus (in the Greek mythology) supported on an ass.

504. steeped. — Soaks, satiuateH. Distinguish drench and drink.

565. Doctor. — From the wovd Jloek and the word blacl; referring to his
"lerical garb, this must bo a doctor of divinity. Parsons rode to hounds
and took their part in the evening wassail equally with their parishioncrH.
They liiay have risen somewhat from the low social position they held, as
described by Macaulay (c. ii.), but their illiteracy and religious apathy were
still extreme. (See Stevens' Hist, of Methodism, chap. i.).

566-7. awful and deep.— Sarcastic,
outlives. — Outlrinks.

571. hurried wild.— Made wild. Note the opposing ideas in horrid
joy, i.e., horrid to others. '

576. cap. — Fitting closely to the head for riding. It was not at all
uncommon for the daughters of the nobility and gentry to follow the
hounds. The number of such is now small, and we may agree with T. that
they could easily find something better to do.

578. softness. — Compare Milton, speaking of Adam and Eve> P. L.

iv., 297-8,

"For contemplation he, and valour formed ;
For softness she, and sweet attractive grace."

Also see A., 11. 268-270.

579. dissolve.— What is meant ?

580-1. wave, kindling.— Explain the figures.

583. unequal. — Predicative after shrink to (them).

584-5. "And engaging man more to their protection by, etc." Parse
engaging.

the silent adulation. What is referred to and why is it
so called ? What kind of flattery is adulation generally applied to?

588. Through.— By means of.

£l9d. — Being avoided ; a \i8« not allowable in proso*

S(.

tat

ini

ii li

AUTUM\.

589. ambiguous. — Sometimes the pursuer, sometimes the jnirsued.
Some have deplored tliose rules of decorum which forliid the wonum to show
her preferences too plainly. However scor'ifully some may deny the impu-
tation conveyed in 11. 587-8, yet no doubt thin unwritten but not the less
imperative law of modesty and fashion has consigned numy a ouu to the
sui>p(jsed unloved shades of ancient s[)insterhood.

51)0. Read again the description of Lavinia, 201-205. This indicates T.'s
opposition to the tremendous hooi)-petticoat, which was a revival of the
Elizabethan fardingale, but differed from that monstrosity of fashion by
being elastic and gathered at the w^aist. These lu>t)[>s were wonderful struc-
tures of canvas and whalebone, and many of them would cover a si»ace in
vliich six men could stand comfortably, {^ir Roger dti Coverley says: " My
giiindmother appeared as if she f tood in a large drum (fardingale), wliereas
the ladies now walk as if they were in a go-cart."

592. May they know (h( v^) to se /,e, etc.

594. lute.— To languish, i.e., to utter tender, plaintive sounds. The lute
is now obsolete, having l)een superseded by the harp and the guitar. The
strings were of cat-gut, in immber from five to twenty-four, and wei'o
stretched on a fingerboard with frets or stoi)s, at intervals, on which to form
with the left hand the various notes-, wliich were struck or thrummed with
the right. It lacked in resonance and carrying power, but was excet'dingly
sweet, and the beauty of the hand and arm was well set off by playing on it.

595. Notice the inversion and its effect ; the meaning is, disclosing
charms in every motion.

59G-600. Morris discovers an anticlimax in these lines, preserving or the
making of jams coming after the higher employments of botany, drawing,
and music. But 1. 597 merely refers to ornamental gardening, and perhaps
T. means that to make the perfect woman (as a help -meet for man), to those
accomplishments (11. 590-8) which render her an attractive and social creature,
must be added those solider and more useful qualities (11. 599-G07) which
Gvevy wife and mother should possess, and which are the real foundation of
doraestic happintess.

GOO-1. race.— Offspring.

second life. — Explain the thought clearly.

602. To give to society the highest models of taste and refinement, which
are to be found in the well-ordered home of the culturetl and virtuous
woman.

G03-7. Compare Rogers' beautiful lines :

" His house she enters, — there to be a light
Shining within when all without is night ;
A guardian angel o'er his life presiding,
Doubling his pluanures, and his cares dividing,

NOTES.

Winning him back when mingling in the throng,
Back from a world we love, alas ! too long.
To fireside happiness, to hours of ease,
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

Gil. The idea of a dale hardly accords witli that of a brook falling from
sttH'i) to stt-ep. The word ravine would seem better.

GO!). Hazels are common enough in England and in America, especially
tile beaked variety in the north. . . . There are large importations from tluj
south of Euroj)e both into Britain and America. T^'^ oil is a good dryer
and consequently used by painters, and by perf un j, base for fragrant

oils. Filberts are a variety of hazelnuts.

GOD. this, i.e., 11. 594-608. How does the length of the enumeration
affect the force and the beauty of the picture ?

Gil. close array. — In close-fitting garb. Why?

61G. burnish.— Intrans.— shine. Cognate with brown,

Gil), resigning.— Show the force of the epithet.

G21-4. Melinda. — A name taken for one of these rustic virgins at
random. T. overshoots the mark here ; women, however wise and good,
are not generally ignorant or neglectful of those charms (G21-3) with which
nature has endowed them. The vulgar praise meant is that which dwells
exclusively upon the beauties of feature and form, ignoring the higher and
better attributes of the mind.

G2G-7. error. — In its classical meaning of "wandering." Give the force
of " maze " in this connection.

revived.— Attributive to (us).

G29. beating ray of the sun ripens the fruit so that it is much more
easily blown down.

G33-G. A sweetness prepared and mixed swells (fills) the gentle race (of
fruits).

G35. of = from. — T. has the four elements, five, air, earth, and water,
which were by the earlier Greek philosophers assumed to make up in various
proportions the constitution ot material things. It corresponds somewhat
to our division into imponderable, gaseous, solid and liquid. Tliales, aa his
first principle, took water, Anaximenes air, Heraclitus fire, etc.

G37-40. Such (are) lusty-handed. -With vigorous hand.

innumerous. — Now obsolete, innumerable.
G41-2. spirit.— Juice,
gelid.— Cool.

points. — Gives sharpness to.
644. boon. — A favour granted, comes from A. S., hen, a petition ; boon,
as in bt)on companion, comes from Lat. bonus (Er. bon) gay, merry. Tlie
latter is the meaning in this passage.

AUTUMN.

numeriitiuu

Lvethefovcu

645. John Philips (not Namby-Pamby Philips) was a clergyman's son,
btjin in 1070, in Oxfordshire, a county noted for cider. He published
in 1700 a poem called Cider, in blank verse. It was an imitation of the
Oivri/ic.9, hence P. is called here Pomona's bard, Pomona bein^ the goddess
of orchards and fruits. — Morris.

040. rhyme-unfettered. — The first example of blank verse in Eng-
land was by the Earl of Surrey, executed by Henry VIII. in 1547, being a
translation of Virgil's jEncid, books ii. and iii. Tlie fitness of blank verse
for the drama was immediately recognized, and its employment in that
species of poetry was general. But in other kinds of poetrj', Milton's Para-
dise Lost was the first great work in blank verse. Between Milton and
Philips the rhyming metres were the fashion.

048. Silurian. — The Silures, a tribe of ancient Britons living west of
the Severn and in the south of Wales. The story of Cara(;tacus, and how
his noble bearing won a pardon from Claudius, is familiar to all.

648. wines. — Must be used here for cider of different qualities.

vats. — Sometimes in older English written /a^s, e.g., Mark xiL 1.

650. revels.— Noisy jollity,
hind.— See W. 8'J n.

653-4. Meekened. — Softened by the absence of the fierce rays of

the sun.

lose. — It's a pleasure to be lost.

055. Doddington, commonly called Bub Doddington, was a prominent
political member of the House of Commons, a man of distinguished ability,
and to some extent a patron of letters. He left a diary, published after his
death, which made a great noise in the political world.

Summer was intended to be dedicated to Lord Binning, but on
his advice it was addressed to D. instead. Macaulay says that D. stood *' so
low in public estimation that the only service he could have rendered to any
government would have been to oppose it." However, this refers to a time
considerably later than that of T.'s writing. His seat in Dorsetshire was
nut in very good taste, certainly not plain.

061. Far-splendid.— One of T.'s characteristic compounds, due to his
classical reading ; shining from afar.

662.4. Morris thinks 1. 602 refers to the house being built at that time,
and 1. 664 to the plantings each year.

007. Virtuous Young".— 1084-1756, author of the celebrated Night
lliouf/hts. He was, at this time (1770), well known as an author by his
satires. The Night Thoughts display in passages a fine but somewhat
gloomy imagination, and the most exemplary piety, which last, however,
did not seriously interfere with Y.'s advancement in life ; for he was a most
persevering and unblushing toady, 5ver keeping a sharp eye to his interests
where money was concerned.

■ I

NOTES.

G07. Twine the bay. — Victor's laurel, or Hwcct bay, waM nacrrd tn
Apollo, and twin's of it with berries adjuring were wound aljoiit the forehead
of victorious heroes and poets. Compare the phrases, *' wear the laurel,"
" laurel crown," said metaphorically of poets and artists, etc.

069. of. — What is the usual preposition after thirst?

070-5. Meditate. — Trans, or supply on, which is the proper preposition.
What is the book of nature ; why ever open ; what is to be learned from it '.'

The ideas in these lines are not original with T. Nature has formed the
material of poetic inspiration in all countries. And even that j)oetry in
which the poet is most subjective — almost wholly occupied with self, his
thoughts and feelings— must be relieved here and there by ttmches of de-
scription and narration.

072. warm.— Modifying«07iy.

077. Some editions leave out this line, and with reason, and read in ()7S
*' The ruddy fragrant nectarine," etc.

Animals. —Compare Uviivj dew in 1, 093.

078. nectarine.— Differs from the j^each only in not being covered with
down, but smooth.

079. The fig, peach and grape do not succeed well in Britain— the sunnnti
n»>t being sutficiently warm. They require a southern exposure (073), and
even then are uncertain. In America peaches and grapes are not very suc-
cessful north of New York State, nor figs north of Maryland.

085. elated. — Now '.ned on'v of persons and mental states ; here in its
Lat, meaning " exalted," i.e., it grows and climbs towards the sun.

092-3. While o'er the swelling skin, perfection (over-ripeness) breathes a
white living dew.

The living refers to the supposed minute insects, as in the ease
offtthe plum (677). Fortunately it is only a supposition.

094-8. exalted. —To perfection.

mingling ray. — Either simply mingled rays, or, perhaps,
mingling the different elements that make the flavour. See 033-0.
fond. — Desirous.

prime. — That which is first in quality.
speak. — The fact of their being in the vineyard bespeaks, etc.

699-702. crushing swain.— Who presses out the juice.

mashy. — The mash is the name given by brewers to the mix-
ture of malt and water ; here the crushed mass.
floats. — Decidedly hyperbolic.
pours round.— Distributes to.
raised.— Explain the force ; compare the vulgar " elevated."

AUTUMN.

read in (57^

covered rvitl'.

Is in the case

70.S«). claret.— The English name (unknown in Frnncc) for wines from

tlie Garonne district, which being usually shipiKid at Bordeaux go by tliat

name.

red as the lip.— Of some fair lady. Love and win<> are often

iissociated in portry.

burgundy.— The produce of the hilly distriet between l>ijons
and Chalons. In richness of flavour and the more tlelieate ([ualities it sur-
passes most wines. There are two varieties, the red and the white. Chuiii-
pufjncs, innn the province of that name, are also white and red. Sparkling'
((/ai/) champagnes are produced by a special treatment. The winr is botth'd
before fermentation is complete, and a large amount of carbonic acid gas \h
dissolved in it. Not one-third of these three win(^s as comnioidy sold is
genuine.

707-17. Discuss the faithfulness of the accoimt here given (707-10).

checked. — By what ? Is roll trans, or intrans. '!

division. — The use of this word for houmlary probably led to
the employment of contending^ or vice versa.

baffled sense.— Explain.

up the middle sky. — Lat. per medium avium. See 82() and
W. 530 n.

718-27. On 721-4, see W. 45-29 n. If whence is an adv. of place, it

refers back to vapor, 1. 716, or dusk, 1. 718 ; but it may be " on which

account. "

beyond the life. — Beyond the natural size.

"Wildered. — What is the usual form ?

The apparent increase in the size of objects during fogs is well

known. Why is the gloom called dttfeiows ?

732-5. Bard. — The passage seems to refer to the creation, Gen. i., in
which case bard would mean Moses ; but he m2ky refer to David. See Ps.

74, 16.

uncollected. — As though light were a material substance, and

dispersed throughout the universe. .

738. Alpine. — Only where there is perpetual snow would any be re-
maining in autumn.

741-2. Supply the ellipsis.

744. " But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,

The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar."

— Essay on Criticism, 308

745-55. Drill. — To drop in rows, as in a seed drill, is, according to Skt at,
only another form of trickle. Drill, thrill, to pierce, is a different word.
Tilt' ideas of dropping and rising (by capillary attraction, we suppose) clasii
awkwardly.

»\

li '

NOTES.

Jaggy. — Literally having notches or teeth, refers to the irregular
crystals of the salts, which are strained out as the waters rise. The whole
theory of the mountain cisterns, and the way they are filled, is rather trying
to one's gravity,

In'iguous. - -Well- watered

courted.— Attracted. .^Vr^.;,

darklinj?.~See TF. 536 n. .7 '■ v .

ZDain. — Open sea.

boils.— See W. 1. 306.

757-72. Distinguish amusivc and amusing. T.'s deductions from the
above theory are a little startling. The salts strained through the sands
would gradually fill the valleys as high as the hills, consequently there
would be no hills ! And if there were no hills, to what top could Deucalion
(the Noah of the Greek mythology) retire, and how could th« cisterns inun-
date the earth ?

forsook. — Give the correct form.

777-90. What faculty of man does T. here personify ?

Taurus.— In the south of Asia Minor.

Imaus. — The ancient name for the Himalayas,

Haemus.— The Balkans.

Olympus. — Where ? The fabled residence of the goda.

Dofrine.— The Dovre-fjelds are hills (2:500-4,000 ft.) by contrast
with the preceding.

Euxine.— The Black Sea.

Riphean rocks. — The Ural Mts., the re.s'deuce, according to
Aeschylus, of the three Gorgons.

793. girdle.— What is the construction ?

797. Bid Atlas, propping heaven, being, etc., spread. Atlas, one of the
Titans who fought against Jove, and condemned by him to support the
world, is said to have been turned into a mountain of the same name by
Persev.s showing to him the head of Medusa, one of the Gorgons mentioned
above. The fables in regard to him are rather mixed.

800. miny.— N«l full of mines, but underground.

blazing. — From the precious metals or stones in them.
cloud-oompellingf.— Explain.

802. The word bending is well applied to the Mts. of the Moon, if refer-
ence is had to their location by geographers. They were put as running from
e. to w., and varying in latitude from 10 s. to 10 n. Beke's theory was that
they ran from n. to s. parallel to the Zanzibar coast, but Speke, in 1858
thought the mountains which he discovered lying in a crescent shape around
the n. of L. Tanganyika were Ptolemy's Mts. of the Moon ; but they are not
■uffioiently high to be snow-clad in that latitude.

', li

AUTUMN.

804. dire.— Perhaps from the many volcanic peaks and the frequency ot
earthquakes.

Line. — The sailor's word for the equator,
deeps.— Valleys. ,

807-12. disclost -Tn trans.

bibulous.— Adj., parse and explain the force.

815. Give the various meanings of the word mould. More retentive—
Tlian what ? What transmits the moisture, and why does it retard it ?

820. siphoE G. -Here merely pipes ; what is the technical meaning ?

827. bosomed, f.e., with bosoms.

828-35. effusion. — One of T.'s padded phrases. Flowing and effusion
are too nearly alike in meaning. Profusion would be better.

What three things hold social commerce ? Write in logical order
II. 828-35, and justify the various epithets.

837-40. swallow -people.— So W. 811, furry-nations.

feathered eddy.— What is meant, and why so called?

841-3. The fact that some of the species (as the sand martii:) burrow
(li'i'lily in cliff sides, river banks, etc., to make their nests, led many to think
tliey remained torpid during winter, but they all migrate,
sweats.— Explain.

840. It divides into several streams.

850. Belgian plains. — Holland, as Belgium was not then a separate
kiiif^doni. It was united to Holland by the Congress of Vienna, 1815, but
(•wing to religious and political differences, which arose from the Belgians
nut l)cing sufFciently represented in the government, they separated from
Holland, 18;>0. The ancient Belgas had their home in this region.

851. won from the raging sea.— Explain what is meant. Gom-
I)are Goldsmith's description. Traveller, 281-96.

852. The heroic struggles of the Netherlands against Spain and France
are too well known to need mention here.

853. Stoik-assembly— See 838. Storks arc common in Holland, lov-
ing marshy and low ground. They are protected by law in some countries
because they act the part of scavengers, eating reptiles, offal and garbage.
Before migrating to their summer haunts, they meet together, making a
great clatter with their large mandibles (consultation). Their nesting on
the top of one's house was considered a good omen. They go to the n.
of Africa, and there seems considerable regularity and design in their
arrangements for the journey. Notice the change of number from meeti to
thiij take, and defend it if you can.

855. liquid.— Clear, in its Latin sense, c.y., " liquidus aether."

M .

!■

100

NOTES.

860. figured, i.e., in the form of certai^i figures.

864. With the ancients the Island of Thule was the most northern part
of the world {ultima Thule). Some say they meant Iceland, others Norway,
others, again, one of the Faroes.

866-7. transmigrations, nations.— Of what ?

874. reign. — Realm, in apposition with swell.

rising full.— Heaped up.

880-5. in romantic view. — Infancy's view, or, presenting a romantic

prospect.

airy. — From the breezes off the sea.

diffusive sky.— Widely spread atmosphere.

breathing the soul acute. — Inspiring a keen, vigorous
intellect.

incult. — Uncultivated or in a state of nature ; an obsolete word.

890-1. Doric reed.— See 3 n.

Jed. — A tributary of the Teviot, which is itself a tributary of
the Tweed. See Life.

893. Orca'S. — The ancient name for the Orkneys.

Berubium's.— Duncansby Head, or St. Andrew's Cape.

895.— soon {i.e. early) visited by learning.— Probably referring
to the landing of St. Columba and his twelve disciples in lonain 563 A.lJ.,
and the founding of a monastery.

before the Qothic rage, i.e. fleeing from it. See note on W.,
836 et seq.

901. too much in vain. — This awkward phrase means, perhaps, " too
vainly." If a comma were put after too, and the dash erased after 902, tlu-
next sentence would follow more logically.

003-7. unequal bounds may refer to the religious persecutions.
Many Scotchmen took service with France during Scotland's long connexion
with that kingdom, and Scotch mercenaries assisted the Netlierlanders
against Spain. See Schiller's Siege of Antwerp.

The enterprise and capacity for leadership which the Scotcli have shown
in a superior degree to the English or Irish is attributed by Macaulay to the
establishment of parish schools in 1696. See Mao. Hist., chap. xxii.

90945. Boreal Morn.— See W. 1. 859 n.

double harvests.— Bountiful or increased.

918. hyperborean. — Extreme north. The Hyperboreans were a peo-
ple who lived beyond the wind Boreas, which term was applied by the Greeks
to that which blew from the N.N.E. Both words are synonyms for north.

i tl

AUTUMN.

101

I, tributary of

se note on W.,

»19.— lucid lawn.— See 1. 86 n. White and very thin.

021-3.- -Batavian.— See W . 768 n. The coast fisheries (Br.) were
largely in the hands of the Dutch at this time.

Heave. —Fill or swell.

frith, or firth. — (See fjord) is properly the mouth of a river open-
ing into the sea. A Scottish word.

1)28. The disputes with Spain were principally in relation to the commerce
with the New World. British merchantmen were harassed by Spanish
privateers and pirates, and a generally hostile policy, which was returned in
kind. Much to the delight of the patriot party (to which T. belonged), and
to the chagrin of Walpole, war was declared in 1739.

929. Argyle. — Second Duke and eleventh Earl, born 1678, distin-
guished himself under Marlborough at Ramilies, Oudenarde, Lille, Ghent
and Malplaquet, to which last the text refers, Taisni'ere being the name of
a forest near that little village, where Marshal Villars was so signally de-
feated by Marlborough and Eugene. On Marlborough's disgrace, Argyle
bocame as keen a Tory as he had been a VV iiig. Not being sufficiently
rewarded for his ratting, he became a Whig again, and in the troubles of
1715 his services were such as to secure him an English peerage. He seems
t<i have been a firm believer in the principle of expediency rather than the
(expediency of principle, but lax and selfish as he was in public life, in
private life he was kind and courteous. His politic course during the
Torteous Riots made him immensely popular, and this, added to his benevo-
lence among the common people, procured for him the title of " The Good
Duke."

037. very throat of war. — So the common quotations from Sh. :

" Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth,"

and Tennyson,

" Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of h'^ll

Rode the six hundred."

030. It was a Roman custom to give to a victorious gladiator a bran-h of

a palm -tree.

044. Dimcan Forbes, 1685-1747, of Culloden. Ho was a connection of the
first Duke of Argyle, by whose influence he became sheriff of Midlothian,
Tn 15 he was active on the side of the Government. His moderation and
leniency to the .Jacobites roused some suspicion of his loyalty, but he was
too important a man to be ignored, and he was made Lord Advocate m
1725 and Lord President in 1737. He was an intimate friend of Thomson
in his early days, a convivial soul and cultivated acquaintance with the
chief literary men of his day.

74(5. in silence great may refer to the fact that he was no speaker.

'ill ■.:'!

102

NOTES.

; . k^

948. The word informed, endowed with life, is very aptly used here.

950. Compare Bryant's description in Autumn Woods.

952. imbroWTl. — Verb, having shade for its subj. ; also written cm-
brovm. Notice the inharmonious succession of the same sound in round and
imbrown.

umbrage. — Properly means the shade cast by the leafage, but is
put here for tlie leafage itself. In what sense is the word commonly used
now?

954. sooty dark. — This phrase is so uncommon as to surprise us.
These, i.e., the leaves, subj. of lead.

955-6. low-'Whispering. — Notice the transferred epithet. In what
lies its appropriateness here ?
view.- Phase.

957-03. fleeces.— Covers with fleecy clouds.

ether.— In Lat. and Gr. the pu^e upper air.
dewy-skirted.— Compare Shelley with the above passage :

"I bear lijjht shade for the leaves when laid
In their noon-day dreams, ...
From my wings are shaken the dews that 'waken
Tlie sweet birds everyone."

softened force.— Compare 1095.
lucid.— Full of light.

965-7. Degenerate.— Gr. Megr/ 73 ; scene of little things.
low^-thoughted, i.e., which has low thoughts.

970. pensive. — Meditative. "The mind must not be impelled to
solitude by melancholy and discontent, but by a real distaste to the idle
pleasures of the world, a rational contempt for the deceitful joys of life, and
a just apprehension of being corrupted by its insinuating and destructive
gaieties. " — Zimmerman on Solitude.

971-5. Russet.— 353 n.

dying" strain.— On the point of ceasing, or feeble.
widowed.— Without a mate.

976. thrushes, linnets, larks.— Perhaps ihe song thrush, throstle
or mavis is meant, which sings finely from early spring to autumn. It fre-
quents copses, is a snail and worm eater, and its flesh is very good. There
are many varieties in America, but they are found principally in the
Southern and Middle States.

The linnets belong to the finch family, and have many representatives in
Northern Euroi)e and America. Their song is mellow and varied and they
mako good cage birds.

AUTUMN.

103

it. In what

The sky-lark or meadow-lark, so celebrated in Hritish poetry and sonpr
is not fonnd in America, the sky-lark or shore-lark with us beinj^ of aditlVr-
t'ut genus. Its song is even sweeter than that of the Old Country lark, but
not nearly so varied or continuous.

978-80. Note the alliteration.

981-2. As their sweetest notes are for the spring and the; mating season,
so is their most brilliant plumage.

983-G. Let not the gun aimed destroy the music, and lay the harmless
unsuspecting tribes a prey, fluttering, etc.

aimed from.— What is the usual prepositicm ?
986. tribes. — Not a good word as applied to the birds.
mingled. — Indiscriminate.

988. pale descending.— Pale refers to the blanching, and descend-
ing to the fall of the leaves.

992. sob seems a very strong word here. What is the usual one?

997. In connection with this and the preceding lines read first two
stanzas of Bryant's Death of the Flowers.

1003. prospect. — In apposition with woods, etc.

1004. There are different kinds of melancholy, caused by grief, indiges-
tion, etc., but this is simply the result of the surroundings. Notice the
gradation of feelings, and how one merges into another. Discuss the
a;)propriateness of the sequence which the poet has here given to them, e.g.,
devotion, rapture, astonishment, ambition (for good), eympathy, scorn,
resolution.

1010, his sacred influence. — T. makes melancholy masc. ; Milton,

fem. Which do yon think is better? Justify Thomson's use. See II

Penseroso, 11, 12:

" But hail thou goddess, sage and holy.
Hail divinest Melancholy ! "

1014-5. ten thousand thousand.— A very effective way of saying
innumerable.

vulgar. — Common or humdrum.
There is a slight incongruity in saying that ideas crowd into the eye.

1017. As fast, etc., i.e., equally fast, etc.

1020-2. unconflned, i.e., in its whole extent, of which that (love) of
the lunnan race is chief.

1030-1. Comjiare Cowper (Timepiece) :

*' Oh for .a lodge in some vast wilderness
Some bomidless contiguity of shade."

visionary prophetic— Whicli forecast the future.

Give the full force of the words weeping, enthusiastic ; paraplirase

IOoO-(>,

WM-

104

NOTES.

-i'

1042, StO"We.— Near Buckingham, then the property of Viscount
Cobham. Cotton says of it :

** It puzzles much the sage's brains

Where Eden stood of yore,
Some place it in Arabia's plains,

Some say it is no more ;
But Cobham can these tales confute.

As all the curious know,
For he has proved beyond dispute

That Paradise is Stowe,"

and Pope, Moral Essay, iv., 70, says (quoted by Morris) :

" Nature shall join you ; Time shall make it grow
A work to wonder at — perhaps a Stowe."

1043. Ionia. — A beautiful and' fertile district on the west coast of Asia
Minor. It was settled by Greeks, but fell under the dominion of Persia
about 500 years later. (Cyrus the Great. )

104G. Pitt. — This was Pitt the elder, commonly known as Lord Chat-
ham, to distinguish him from his son, William Pitt. This passage appeared
first in the 1744 edition of the Seasons. Two years later Pitt was in the
Ministry.

1050. There was a temple of British worthies in Stowe Park wliich con-
tained busts of eminent British statesmen, heroes, and authors. — Morris.

1056-7. Attic land.— See W., 1. 446, et scq.
standard.— The best of its kind.

1058. What objection to the phrase "purest truth?"

1062. T. had already published Sophonisba. See Life.

1069. It will be a good exercise here to contrast the private and public
characters of Pitt and Walpole.

1070. Elysium.— That part of Hades, according to the .ater classical
mythology, to which the souls of the departed good were consigned. uEncid,
vi., 342 and 637-43. The word now conveys the idea of extreme happiness.

1072. Cobham. — Sir Richard Temple, the proprietor of Stowe, served
in the wars under Marlborough, became a lieutenant-general, and was, in
1714, created a peer under the title of Lord Cobham. His opposition to the
prime minister, Walpole, caused him to be deprived of his military rank, to
which circumstance the poet here alludes. Lord C. was, however, after-
wards restored to his offices. He died in 1749.

squadrons, host. -What different meanings have these words ?
Give the derivation.

1077. France (anciently Gallia or Gaul) had gained, during the reign of
Louis XIV., the most prominent ])osition in ai'ms, in letters, and in that
polished coiirtliness which was thought essential to successful diplomocy.
The wars with France for the balance of power were stiU fresh in the minds

AUTUMN.

105

iese words ?

of all, and just now hostilities were again impending. By the lower classes
in England the French were despised as slaves, as frog-oatcrs, and as
wearers of wooden shoes. There are still some lingering renmants of tliis
contempt.

1083. humid € 'ening".— Virgil's hmuida nox., .En., ii., 8. The old
mythology represented t 'le sun and night as traversing the firmament in
cliariots.

1087. The fogs cluster and glide (swim). Notice in connection witli
fogs and rain the difference between England and Canada.

1092. where.— In the disc.

umbrageous. — Not from being wooded, but from being dee]).

1093. optic tube.— What is meant ?
1094-5. Reflects the light void of heat.

earth. — In apposition with duo.

109G. stoop.— Milton, J? Pcn«,, 72. :

" And oft, as if her head she bowed,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud."

1097. cerulean.— Usually an adjective.
sublime. — In its original sense of aloft, on high.

1098. deluge. — An uncommon use of the word, though we often si)eak
of a flood of light.

1099. skied.— Surrounded by or enveloped in the sky. Sky originally
meant a cloud. Compare Gr. skia, a shadow.

1102. What is the real meaning of half-blotted ?
1107. This line seems hardly necessary after HOG.
appears.— Is visible.

1109. a blaze of meteors.— The term "meteors" is especialk-
applied to fire-balls, and the masses of stone or other substances which
sometimes fall from them to the earth, and to s'.iooting stars. Showers of
the latter occur periodically in the months of August and November.
]\[eteors, however, in the wider sense of the term, include any phi'uomena
in the atmosphere, and are sometimes classed as aerial, aqueous, luminous,
and igneous, the last named including auroras and lightning. The descrip-
tion in 11. 1109-1114 and 1117-21 makes it evident that the poet is speaking of
an auroral display.

1112. thwart, extinguish.— Both intrans.

1115. From face to face. — Why is the poet's phrase more expressive?

1117. meet.— Full.

1119-20. lines.— Nom. abs.

sanguine flood.— Explain.

106

NOTES.

' 11

1124. incontinent. — Irrepressible; according to Morris "imme.
diately."

1122-30. "Under the influence of fear men conjure up resemblances be-
tween the meteors and various terrible or ominous objects. Such appear-
ances in the heavens have, in all ages, greatly disturbed men. Compare 2
Maccabees, v., 1, and also Tacitus Hist., ii., xiii., of the portents before the
siege of Jerusalem."— il/orr«.

1125. Compare 1201-7.

1128. sallow.— Explain the force of the epithet.

1130. SUbversed.— Subverted is tlie usual form.

1134. inspect. — Power of inspection, rarely, if ever, now used as a
noun.

1141. Insert is or being after "beauty," "distinction," ^* variety,"

1147. Chimeras. — The chimera was a monster, described by Homer
as having the head of a lion, the body of a goat and the tail of a ser])t'iit,
and vomiting fire. Hence the word came to mean, as here, a wild baseless
fancy, also a visionary hare-brained project.

11-18. directive. —Distinguish in force from directing.

1152. wild fire. — Ignis fatuus. Will o' the wisp, etc., has never been
produced artificially, occurs in low marshy places and churchyards, is sup-
posed to be due to the gas generated from decaying animal and vegetablt-
matter, perliaps phosphuretted (P.H.a), or carburetted hydrogen (Cr.
H.o); is generally seen about two feet above the ground. It is said that
a match has been lighted at its flame !

1155. absorpt.— See W., 827.

1157-8. Compare W., 311-13-14. Why is the latter i:)icture so much more
effective ?

T. is no doubt true to nature in 11. 1147-59, but he oversteps it in the
remaining lines llGO-4. '^

1162. meteor.— See n. on 1100.

1170. spray. — Another foi-m of sprig. Compare " Gentle music melts
on every spray." — Traveller, 322.

1172. murdered. —Here and in 987 applied to lower animals.

1173. still-heaving. -With life. See 1198-1200.

1175. fixed o'er sulphur.— This unfortunate phrase spoils what is
otherwise a fair poetical account of the old method of extractii che honey
by means of the fmnes of sulphur. In the modern beehives this is un-
necessary.

1178. temperance.— Regulated distribution.

AUTUMN.

107

V used as a

nusic melts

1183-4. convolved.— Rolled or twisted together. Compure

"Then Satan first knew pain,
And wiithed him to and fro convolved."

— Milton.
agonizing".— Writhing with ])ain— the orif,'inid sense.
spring. —The fields in spring ; or adv. of time.
toil away.— Trans.

1191-2. obliged. — Laid under an obligatiim.

ambrosia was the food of the gods, as nectar was their drink.

129r)-(>. Explain the force of pinches, with their own. The force of
smiling is not clear. Morris suggests "propitious or festive." It may
nfer to the rule given that "bees should be fed only when the weather is
Hue and warm, to prevent the temperature of the hive from being injured.

1197. stony.— From the appearance of the hardened wax on the Hoor of
the hive.

1204. Palermo. — The capital of Sicily, the scene of many contests in
the Punic wars. In modern times perhaps its most notable event is the
Sicilian Vespers, 1283. Though earthtpiakes have been common enough
there, yet none is recorded to have occurred about T.'s time.

1206. sheer. — Completely, so as to leave no part ; of different origin
from sheer, the nautical term.

the day.— The sun. What figure ?

1211-12. Save what brushes the filmy threads of evaporated dew from
the plain. These lines probably refer to gossamer, a light filament, often
found in late autumn spread over the ground, or stretching from leaf to leaf,
the meshes laden with entangled dewdrops, which glisten and sparkle in
the sunshine. It is also found floating in the air, but this, perhaps, is not
produced by the same variety of spiders. A viscid fluid is shot from their
spinnerets with great force, and this soon hardens into threads. These
are caught by the slightest breeze, and carry the spider with them ; the
spider likely exercising some voliti n in the aerial flight.

The derivation commonly given is God-summer (in German Marien-
fadea), from the legend that gossamer is formed from the Virgin Mary's
winding sheet, which fell away in fragments when she was taktn up to
heaven. See, however, Skeat, who derives it from goose-summer.

1214-15. peculiar. — Different from that of spring or summer.

swelled. — Explain why it a])pears thus.
1220-3. instant. — Threatening, the classical sense of the word.
Parse shook, and point out anything peculiar in the syntax of 1221-3.

toil-strung. - Made strong by toil.
1220-9. abroad. — Not closed in, or unfolded.

the village-toast. — Bring out the meaning by a paraphrase.

points.— directs.

108

NOTES.

1230. cudgel.— Referring to the old and rough game of siixjleatick, ii.
which he who first drew blood from his advcrdary's head was tlie victor.

1232. The harvest home.— Common after harvest in most Euru-
Ijcan countries.

"The Roman Saturruilia^ which were held in December, at the end
of the agricultural labours of the year, were pr»»bably of this nature."—
Morris.

123f). T. again eulogizes the life rural and retired in an almost literal
translation of Virgil, Gcfyrfiic I I., 458, ct siq.

1239-41. The word vomits, if taken in the ordinary sense, gives an
idea of niistiness, in strict accordance with the character of place hunters
and sycophants. The words sneaking and abused in turn refer
to their generally disapv>ointed and injured apiHiarance.

1244. mazy. — With the intricately embroidered patterns. Some editions
have massy.

oppress.— Explain the force.

1246. purveyed. — Conveyed or brought. The proper meai»ing of
purvey is ** to buy in provisions," " to provide."

1247. tributary life.— The lower animals which, for clothing or food,
contribute to the sybarite's pleasures. Supply no< after ^ajos.

1249. Note the fine contraat in "heaps with luxury and death."

sure.— Probably in the original sense of secure (of which it is a
doublet (free from care).

1251. gay care. — T. is fond of phrases like this (known as the figure
oxymoron), the words of which have opposing meanings ; compare still
breeze, 1211 ; care wl-ich is the result of dissipation.

tosses out the night.— Explain the meaning of this, and cf
the following line by a paraphrase.

1257. estranged to. — A very awkward phrase meaning free from.
Estranged takes front not <o after it.

1267. The word chide has been applied in a good sense to the constant
and pleasant vsound of water in summer time. Contrast Shakespeare's use
of it in, ** As doth a rock against the chiding flood." Comiya,re brawling.
Notice tlie transferred epithets in 1266-7t

1268. sincere.— Pure, dreamless.

1270. at large.— Compai-e 517, "on violets diffused."

1274, sound ma.hr6k.en.— Unbroken is used in the sense of "eon
tinned."

1277. poetic ease. — This seems a harsh antithesis to "unambitious
toil." In what way can these two epithets be justified as said of qualities
resident in the same person ?

ADTUMK.

100

hich it is a

1282. unpierced.— Unmoved.

1284-5. Emigration has been caused (from the British Islands at least) as
nmch by i)overty and oppressive laws as by love of gain, and this among a
people confessiMily the most ent^ni)riaing in Kuroije.

1287-1)4. Notice the use of the demonstratives, let this, lot that, lot those,
let those. Com{>are W., 11. 375-85.

1289. the social sense extinct, i.e., the fooling that ho owes
certain duties to society being extinguished in his breast.
12')0. Into mad tumult

1291. melt. — If? this an appropriate metai>hor?

1292. toils. — Snares. A word of different origin from toils, labours.
1294. those, i.e.. And let those delight in, etc.

1296. cabals.— Taken immediately from the Fr. cabnk, a club, re-
motely from Ilebr. gab^mlah, a mystt^rious doctrine. Th<> word is found
earlier, but first came into common use in 1671, when by a nu^re coincidonce
it was found that it could be formed from the initials of th<! nauK^s of Chns.
the Second's cabinet. "The^se ministers s<x)n ni.wle that apixjllation so in-
famous that it has never since their time been used, except as a term of re-
preach. "—Afflwa?///??/-

1297. To "wreathe a bo"Wi8 T.'s hyperbolic way of exi)ressing the
crafty and calculating iK>liteness of the ixiliticiana of his day. One edition
has •' brow" instead of " bow."

1300. Notice the nice use of "but." Morris prints the passage thus,
" hears (and but hears at distance safe) the human tempest roar."

1301. Compare Gray's '* Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,"

1311. gems.— (Latin gemma) and hwls are preciscily the same; the
word ffcmi or gcTwma is used only in botanical language.

1314-15. For him the flowers unfold their beauties, for him the opening
blossoms breathe out their fragrance.

IS? 7-18. The vale of Temiw, in Thcssaly, about five miles long. My
tetween Mt. Olympus on the n. and Mt. Ossa on the s., the Penous
flowing through it. It has lx3en much celebrated by the jxx'ts for its iK'auty,
and in the matter of valleys is a princii>al article of their st(x;k in trade, and
the word Tempo has almost become a common noun.

Hssmus (L 785) was covered with forests.

1320-1. an eye shot round.-— An awkward absolute phrase, '* glanc-
ing quickly round. "

1325. tepid. — Lukewarm ; scarcely ever said of anything but liquids.

1331. frost. — During which the skies are frex? from clouds, and the
stars look brightly down ujwn the eye that is raised to contemplate the
beauty of the heavens.

NOTES.

1 '

. ]

j 1

'4 -s I

IIWHI. secure, mark.— Should properly be finguliir, as the subject in
a frinid (or) a book. Would secures sound etjually well?

i;W7-l). elates.— KxaltH.
touch.— Cl.iims.

1341-2. Soe th«3 Ek(nj, 13. acorriic II., .^)23.

1347. Are still (neverthelesH) of tlu^ social, etc.

1348. fret. Are the prey of remorse.

]3r)0. uncorrupt or incorrupt : also un- or in-corrupted.

1.35(5. blue. — Morris reads void. What difference will it make in the
parsing (jf immense?

1.3.'')H-(>4. disclosing-. —Which is disclosed. Tlu; construction is loose.
"►Strata " and " world " seem to depcmd on " through."

thrust thence, i.e., the v('getaV)le world pushed up from the
strata. Aftisr "o'er that " supply " is i)laced "; where = i\\i^ place in which.

13()."). ravished.— Delighted even to rapture,
open.— Tm trans,
search. — It is a search which, etc.

1307. ]*>ut if I am unequal to that task.

1.371 -.3. Compare Dryden's translation of the same lines of Virgil (/Ja/,,
viii., 11) :

" Amidst thy laiircls let this ivy twine ;
Thine was my earliest Muse ; my latest shall be thine,"

vaili

WINTER.

1. Varied, i.e., by the aeasons.

2. sad.— A Vorprilian epithet tristis hiems.
rising. — Coming up from the liorizon.

kindred.— Congeni;!. These two words, nearly synonymous,
ilhistrate the two main sourecs of our v(>ci>ljuljiry.

G. Par. Lost, I. 250.

frequent.— Similarly Chaucer's " bote foote."
7-lG. Refers to his life at the Southdean Manse.
8. careless. — Free from care.
10. Pleased have I.— Why the repetition ?

12. big.— Pregnant, teeming.

13. Note Thomson's fondness for such comi)ounds as dcvp-fcrmcntinq
viryin-snowa.

15. lucid.— Blight. See Job ix., 9. Note the be.auty of the image.

17. first, i.e., of the Seasons, published (172(>), and then scarcely half
its present length, and without this fulsome dedication.

18. Wilmington. -Sir Spencer Compton, SiK'aker of the H. of C.
(1714-17), was made a i)eer (1727), and finally became Premier ; was of very
moderate ability and quite undeserving of such praise as this of Thomson's.

renews. — ITmicr being republished with the other Seasons, 1730.

19. since. — Adv. here.

20-26. What figures? Discuss their ajipropriateness.

22. shadowy.— That makes shadows.

24. doubling.— Increasing, or turning back on itself.

27. numbers.— Notes ; what case ?

32. sound integrity.— A good example of one of Thomson's faults.

34. sliding.— Corrupt. The evil effects of the Restoration on lit(!rature,
politics and the church still continued. In this connection note the names
and influence of Pitt, Cowper, Wesley.

burning.— John v. 35, attributive to spirit.

36. free, but obedient to law, i.e., British freedom.

37. these (qualities) light.— Lead the way for.
39. converting (turning), attributive to these.

41. Capricorn. —The sun passes from Sagittarius, the 9th sign of the
Zodiac, here called the Centaur- Archer, to Cai)ricorn, the 10th sign al)out
2l8t Dec., and of course a month after entex-s Aquarius. The Centaurs of

[111]

& :'

112

NOTES.

the old Greek mythology were monsters, half man and half horse, armed
with bow and anow. When the Spanish cavalry invaded Mexiao the
Mexicans thought the man and the horse were one creature.

43. inverted. — The three preceding tioasons give the idea of advancc-
mant or progress ; here, however, there is retrogression. Thomson copies
the idea from Horace, and Cowper (Task iv., 120) from Thomson.
stains. — Discolors with excessive rain.

45, ether, or esther, means here the air or the firmament, and not
that medium which, for the production of the phenomena of heat, light, etc.,
theory supposes to fill all space.

49. broad.— Caused by refraction. — The preceding picture soems very
accurate.

54. cincture.— Robe, dress.

59. gloom. — In apix>Bition with mnter.

61-2. loathing life. -Statistics show that suicides are not more com-
mon at this season than at any other ; but melancholia is more prevalent in
the north of Europe than in the South, due partly to cHmate and partly to
race.

65. This line seems to disagree with U. ()3 and 84.
moorish.— Marshy.

67-71. What three personifications here ; which is the weakest ?
presageful. —Foreboding.

73-4. obscure.— Dark.

skies. — Used here in its original meaning of clouds.
77-1). brown.— From the soil washed down.

combine.— Close in as night comes on.
83. This line seems out of harmony with the rest of the description.

85. low. — Subst. The sound made by cattle.

86. ruminate. — Chew the cud, as the cow, sheep, camel. This class
of animals has the power of returning the food from the stomach to the
moutli f«»/ more thorough mastication. The stomach is divided into foiu-
distinct cavities, into each of which the food may be sent directly from the
oesophagus.

89-90. L. AUegro, 40.

hind.— A peasant or servant, but used in some i>ftrts as a name

for .• farm foreman.

92. recks. --Trans., but bften followed by of, e.g., "recks Hot of a
wound."

94-105. This description of the effects of the storm has boon m-ich
adiiared for its faithfulness and correspondence of sound to sense.

WINTER.

113

Be, armed
exioo the

■ advance-
son copies

it, and not
light, etc.,

socms very

t more com-
prevalent in
nd partly t<.

■St?

|riptiou.

This class

Lmach to the

led into four

bly from the

l-tB as a name
3ks not of a

been mnob
Ise.

10*)-10. pleasing dread. - What figures? 114 makes us think of
.Eolus and his bag.

120. streaks.— Sun's rays struggling through the clouds.
122. poise.— Balancing.

124-5. blank.— Pale, white.

circle, or halo about the sun or moon portends a st(»nn.

126-141. Almost transl. from the 1st Goorgic 365-390.

obtuse.— Dulled.
128. Falling stars are more common in Autumn, osj)eciallyin Nciveiiiber.

130-1. See note to 83.

eddies.— In nautical language "cat's ])aw8."

135. In the Latin, "carding their ta^ks" (jKinsa), hence, remotely, p«'iisive.

131). downs.— Any sandy uplands covered with graas, originally sand
hills by the sea.

141. thick -urge. — Not a good compound, as thick refeis \A^ the ninnbers.

143,, waiting.— Compare Gray's "moping," Elegy, 10. Shakespeare is
more faithful when he speaks of it as " clamoring," Macb. II. 3.63.

146. The hern (more commonly heron) and cormorant (lit. sea crow, L.
corvuB marinus) generally keep close to land.
148. unequal.— Adv.

150. eat.— For eaten.

151. forest-rustling.— Is this compound properly formed for the
meaning intended ?

157. Hyperbole ; in the greatest storms the sea is tranquil at 200 or 300
feet deep, and the highest waves, from trough to crest probably never
exceed 40 feet.

167-8. A vivid picture ; see Ps. 104, 3.

169. Baltic— Storms are frequent and navigation dangerous frtim its
shallowness (15 to 20 fathoms), narrowness and irregular coastline.

17(). Mountains attract the clouds, consequently thunder is more fnxiuent.

sons —Trees.
178-80. Thes<! lines relieve the monotony of the natural dc^scriptions.
182. tarnished-honoura— Withereil foliage. A Latinism.

184. limbs.— Nom. absol. Compare

As falls on Mount Alvernus

A thunder-Kmitten oak.

Far o'er the crashing forest

Its giant limbs lie spread. — Macaulay, Ifiirntius.

185. Is dissipated a good word here, and why ?
1H8. them. —What is the antecedent ?

114

NOTES.

101. burthened. — Better than burdened for a grave subject.

193. demon. — See 1. 67. Among tlie ancients the extraordinary
conditions or actions of men not capable of being referred to the natural or
apparent laws of the mind or body were attributed to the influence of one or
more attendant spirits (genii or dfcmons). Plato gives one to each mortal,
accompanying him through life and finally bearing his soul to Hades ; others
give two. The Jews during the Captivity copied some of the Persian
demonology. At the advent of Christ, the jKipular meaning of demon with
them was ev^il spirit, and the early Christian writers intensified it.

194. devoted.— Doomed.

199-201. Ps. 104, 3. at once. — Is the redundancy a weakness?
200. compeer. — Companion.

207-8. intrusive, meddling.— In the Lockian ])hilosophy all ideas
are due to Sensation or Reflection. The first is the perception of the
external objects through the fi /e senses which act independently of the will.
The mind is more free to reflect during the niglit, not being so subject to
the annoyance of the external world through these avenues of approach.

217-222. A beautiful prayer, few more so in the language. Compare P.
L. I., 17-26.

223-4. dun.— Adv.

livid, piercing.— Are these epithets well used? Why?
227. heavy and fleecy are somewhat incongruous terms.

229-231. Cowper, Task IV. 326. Cowper is generally more minute in
descriptions.

232. cherished.— Tended.

236. hoar. — As an aged man.

240. labourer-ox.— Is this better than labouring-ox, or (as Milton)
laboured-ox ?

241. demands. — Wilson says, *' this notion is a fantastic me. Call it
doubtful, for Jemmy was never wholly in the wrong."

244. "winnowing.— Being winnowed. This use of the pres. part.,
although still good English, is dying out.

246. The name robin is applied in America to a kind of thrush (turdus
mit,ratorius), a larger bird than the European robin, but resembling it in its
colour, general appearance, and familiar habice. In Germany the robin is
called Thomas, in Norway, Peter. The line simply means ** sacred to the
family," as the tenn "household gods "is a classical allusion to certain
minor tutelary duties of the Koniiuis, whose statues were placed about
the house and worshipped regularly every day, at meal time, on rising,
retiring, etc

WINTER.

115

253. askance. -Sideways, obliquely from the corner of the eye ; iikin
to aslant.

257. brown.— Wilson says, "a touch like one of Cowper's. That one
word proves the poet."

258. timorous. — The hare matched with its own kind or even another
of equal size shows considerable courage.

2G3. dumb despair.— The poet seems a little illogical ; the next line
says they dig. J3esides, do the lower animals ever give way to despair ?

2G7. at will. — l>oes this limit ^i^^ or food ?

271. o'er, .whelms. — Is this a case of tmesis ?

277. drives.— Intr,

278. loose revolving.— Explain what is meant.

270. disaster'd. — Seldom used as a verb ; h(Te either attributive in its
old astrological sense "illstarred," or better, predicative in the sense of
"overwhelmed with calamity."

27J)-so. other hills of unknown brow.— Ex][)lain.

2S0. shag. — Roughen, deform,
trackless. — Prolepsis.

285. flouncing. — This word, which generally has far different ass(»cia
tions, seems very expressive here. What is the usual word?

28(5. What figure? Is stung an appropriate word?

2!)2. middle waste.— A Latinism for "midst of the waste."

300. faithless.— Explain 301-2. "What island, what is water, being
unknown?"

305, fearful.— Distinguish the two meanings of this word.
307. 1 Sam. 15, 32.

310. Nom. Abs.

311. officious. — Duteous. What is the ordinary meaning ?

31G-17. What is the effect of the rtip(!titi(m of Wie cttnj. ? (iive other
examples.

320. Distinguish corse, corpse, carcass.

329. Is in correct?

333. Notice the two meanings of common.

335. baleful. — In a passive sense, "caustul by calamity."

337. sordid.— Has its root meaning "filtliy." What is the unjinary
meaning ?

3 10. whence. Uy which.

tumbled.— A factitive verb, passivo.

IF S'

■i

}

;

I- !■ !■

M !

116

NOTES.

34;{-5. Thomson's vale, where ino.-it hii)t|>in('ss is found, is evidently the
middle condition of life; sec 333-8. What passions ure honest ? How
dot^s the idea of racking agree with peace and contemplation ?

348. j>oint. — Give ix)int to." So Johnson of Ch. XII. Van. of Hum.

Wishes.

** He loft the name at which the world grow jmle,
To i>oint a moral, or adorn a tale. '

fond. — Foolish, its r(X)t meaning.

thought.- Supply "if."

349. So Hamlet. " The heart ftcl>e and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to."

3i50-l. " That render life one struggle, one scone. "

3.51. one scene of fate. — Fatoor destiny was the only monotheistic
conc<!ption of the (Tfoeks and HoTnans. In some writers it takes tlu form of
fatalism, in others of the suiKirintendenoe of a gtiiding will,in others of chancer
(Epicureans). In Mohammedanism it preaents itself Jia an inexorable and
arbitrary law, .allowing little scoik; for the development of hmnan nature.
In Christianity it api)oar8 imder the forms of Prcnlestination and of the
Law of Necessity. The first gives a dominating inHueiic(i to the Divine
Will and approaches Fatalism, its opi»onents say, by leaving no iMtwer of
froo action to the individual. The latter regards evcny thing in nature as
subject to law, and approaches Fatalism by supiM)sing this law immutable
and self-(;xistent. Thomson's training jih a Calvinist i>erhai)s led him t/)
take a iiessimistic view of fato, as in this line.

363. Impulse. — Towards (jixxl or evil, or both.

355. "wide. — Prolei)sis.

356-8. social. — Of sympathy with one's fellow -creatures. If vx)rk he,
taken as transitive, then 6/m is its subject ; if not, bliss is object of into.

359. generous band.— The jail committee of 1721>, apiH)inted to
enquire into the condition of prisons, esi)ecially of the Fleet. The rev<lati(m8
made were something awful fiad furnished material for some of Hogarth's
best i«ctures. Dirt, vice of the most revolting kind, starvation and torture
were common. Such was their state from a sanitary iK)int of view that the
foulest diseases v^»ore brod in them. Twenty years later the lord mayor,
two aldermen, two judges, most of the jury and many sixxjtators cauglit
tlKi jail fever at an assize of the Old Bailey and most of them died. The
jails, too, were crowdtnl on account of imprisonment for debt, which now
may hardly be said to t^xist. The t*!rrible abuses of the prison discipline of
those times, truly n<'(Hied the exertions of meii like Oglethorix) (the founder
of Georgia) and Howard, the philanthropist.

300. redressive.-lielief -giving.

304. lash of vice, -i.e., which vice should feel.

WINTER.

117

.W. tyrants.— Tlie jailers.

3(19. weed.— Weeds usually. Not used now forclotlunjj in Kcuural but
as uiourning clothes for a widow.

372. lust.— l>esire.

The whole picture (300-75) is certainly not overdrawn.

383. What image ?

384. toils. -Snares.

385. cumbrous. — These lines are a fit enough conclusion to the i)re-
axling pictures, and no doubt correctly represent the [>opular idea. The
codification and sim])lification of law have no doubt r ado justice cheaiHjr,
but the i)ercent:igo of litigation has not diminishiHl. Some aver the contrary,
and that the intervention of lawyers is as no(!»^«sary as ever.

390. horrid.— In its root meaning of " rough," " bristling."
shining. — With snow.

Alps. — From albus white.

391. wavy. — Refers either to their vary in },' luMg-hts or to their curving
course through Italy.

392. branch.— Transitive.

394. burning.— Thirsting.

gaunt. — How pronounced ?

396. bear (in tr.) along keenly.

400. The nobility and generosity have no foundation in reality, Tn fact
Oumming's account of him gives him no 8ui>eriority, except in strength, over
the other Felidae.

407. hapless.— Unfortunate.

undistinguished. — Not favoured at all on account of the beauty.

408. The following is the substance of Wilson's criticism on this passage,
389-413 : '* The first fifteen lines are equal to anything in the whole range
of descriptive poetry, but the last ten are positively bii. Wild Ix/usts do
not like the look of the human eye— they think us ugly customers.
But that the godlike face of man should terrify an army of wolves is
ludicrous, and still more so the trash about beauty force divine ! 'Tis all
stuff, too, about the generous lion. True he has been known to walk i>ast a
pretty Caffre girl without eating her, but the secret lay in his stom.ich ; he
had dined an hour or two before on a Hottentot Venus. A^ain famished
wolves howking up a dead body is a dreadful image ; but the expression
inhuman to relate is not heavily laden with meaning. In *lie Last line why
nre the shades foul and only the ghosts frightened ? Wherein lies the
specific difference between a shade and a ghost? If the ghosts were
frightened why were they not off ?"

118

NOTES.

4ir>. Q-risons. — The largest hut most thinly ])«>o|»l(>d of the Swiss Can-
t()U8, being an assemblage of mountains intersected by narrow valU^ys. Its
area is 2,770 square miles, and population about 100,000. The Rhine and
Inti rise here and it also feeds the Ticino and Addaa to some extent, lioth
the French and German names, (xriscms and Granbunden, have their origin
iii the Grey League formed against the nobility in 1424. In 1472 they allied
with the Swiss Cantons, and in 1803 were formally admitted into the Swiss
Confederation. On account of its mountainous character and the different
exposures resulting, the climate and products are exceedingly varied,
including not only northern products like barley, rye and wheat, but also
Indian corn, the vine, tig, and almond. Cattle, lumber and cheese are
oxpt)rted. Mining is done in the mountains, and the rivers are stocked with
salmon and trout. The district is rather subject to avalanches.

417. Avalanches are of various kinds, as the drift, sliding and rolling,
and are generally of snow, hence often called snow-slii)s. l^ut glaciers in
their advance down the sides of the steep Alps sonictiuies break away.
Avalanches occur most frequently in the months of July, August and
September.

420-1. Discuss the eflfectiveness of the enumeration.
424. The digression seems abrupt.

all amid. — In the very midst of.
420. bl(.)W ice. -What is meant ?

430. tapers.— Candles. Would " candles " do equally well here?
435. humanized.— Civilized.

437. long-lived.— Ancient.

438. shades.— Shadows (imaginary) of the dead.

430. Socrates, 4()0-.^99 B.C., son of an Athenian sculptor, and followed
his father's trade till about middle age, when he took up the role of
l)hilosopher. He had served in the Peloponnesian war as a hi Jite, was of
excelling physical strength, fortified by an abstemious diet and a regular
life. He belonged to the walking school and had among his intimate
friends and disciples Plato and Xenophon, to whom we are chiefly indebted
for information about him. As to the subject of his teaching, he was the
first to proclaim that the proper study of man is man, his ur^ture, duties and
happiness. Other s})eculations might be useful practically to certain special
cbsses, but morality, justice and happiness were necessary for all. As
tti method, he insisted on an accuracy in definition and classification seldom
thought of before. To ascertain the exact connotation of each term, he
would pretend ignorance (the Soeratic irony) and ask for a definition from
his opponent. Then by a series of (questions (a manner peculiarly his own),
he would involve his opv)onent in self-contradiction. Socrates' boast was
that he l.., ieast knew his ignorance, and a great part of the dialogues in

WINTKK.

119

Till' idiirct (if

Plilto iliul Xriioplloll cloH(^ witll this llHTcly llc^MtiVf rtsillt. i nr .mirci, H

S(icrat»'s wan by iiiciuiH of induction from iiiiiticul.u' cniuriitiniis to fuim ;i
jrrncral notion iin<l h<'nc(! fonniil;it(i a lo.;ieal (U'tiiiitiiii. 'I'hc only pusilivc
trnct of Socrates that has come down to ns is tliat virliic enlists in knowltMl;^^
and intellectual di.scenunent, and proceitds from ii clear coj^'iiition of the
notion <)f what any particular action contemplates, of its ends, means, and
conditions. Vico can result only from if,''nonuice ; no person is willin^dy
wicked or knowingly does wrong. The ))roper corrective of vice is the
teaching of the consequences of actions, licnce virtue as knowledge is
teachable and is i)ronioted by exta'cise. But tlut practice of Socrates was
wider than his theories; his advice and (sxhortations were addressc-d to
men's feelings as well as to their intellects. In hin own pt^rson, too, he
shewed an exaltation over sensuous cravings, a calmness of n)ind amid
enmity and misfortune, and a consciousness of his own strength and
integrity which «erved to exemplify his notions of unit'-d virtues and felicity.
In after times his life and character became tlu; archi'type and inspiration
of other philosophers, wh(», thouglj they could not rival him in pcrs-inal
excellence, yet left more endiuing results in the way of regularly formu-
lated and developed philosophical systems.

440-4. Who— obeying - law.

443. This line and a few others just here are due to Pojie's emendation.
are Effsai/ on Aftin, I'^p. TI. 204.

445. "Wisest. -So /'an 7vVy/. IV . 275.

440. Solon. -An Athenian lawgiver, one of the sf^v(>n wise men, b. (h'S
IJ.C. He introduced the plutocratic jirinciple and divided the citi/.ens into
four classes according to amount of income, with corresponding privileges
and burdens. Legislation originated in an upper house of -100, left as
strictly aristocratic by Solon as he foinid it, but he re(piired ratification by
a lower house or assembly, composed of all the classes. His constitution
and his laws with some alterations remained in force for KX) or 500 years.

common-weal, commonwealth. Distinguish the ordinary
meanings.

next. - Not in time, but in order of i>resentation to the jxiet's mind.

447-8. tender. —So different from the stern laws of Draco, which

preceded.

lively. — A very expressive (ipitluit as regards the Athenians, who

were as full of vivacity a? of intelligence.

450. Par. Rnj. IV. 240. Give lists of Athem'ans distinguished in
sculpture, i)ainting, iH)etry, the drama and elo({ lence.

452. Smiling'. — A common epithet for Greece with tl';^ poets. See
Byron in several passages"

LycurgUS. — The great Spartan law^giver (ahout SSI l>.r'.), ni;. le
Sparta a close aristocracy basivl on caste, the maj<»rity of the people l.,i,\ ing
no political rights. L. is a semi-mythical personage and probably did litth^

if!

120

NOTKS.

'I-

more than collect and iirran^'t? previously (fxistinp!' laws. These ilevoloped a
nation of brave and hanly soldiers, but repressed intellectual, 'jonnnercial,
or even moral jtro^resH. The exauiph; of Sparta proved that th<^ sourc<^s of
a nation's strength are not in the {H!rf(»ctness of any uiilitary system. lli-r
insolent tyranny aR^-r the l\i»lo|H)nnesian War brought her into collision
with Thf'lx's, by which she was reducexl to her ancient Iwuindaries, and
later on she was (piit(^ unable to make head against Macodou or Kouiu.
bowod. —Trans.

455. following.— I'arse.

457-8. chief.— Leon idas, King of Sparta, killed at T!)ernioi»yhte in
upiH»sing Xerxes, 480 B.C.

the other.— Lycurgua.

hardest lesson.— T(> lay down his life for Sparta.

455). Aristides. — An Atlu^iian of such probity that his fell(»w citizens
calleil him the Just, He fought at Marathon under Miltiades (41)0), and
wavS chief Archon next year. ThemistocU's, called by the p<H!t, his hawjhti/
riistJ, procurwl ?>is ostracism. A. returned, howi'ver, to assist TheniiHtt)cles
against the invading Tersians, fought at Salamis, and led the Atlusnians at
Platiua. In 477 he introduced a constitutional change admitting all classes
of citi/x'iis to ixditical offices. He died in 4(>8, rosi)oct<Ki by all, being so
lM)or that his funeral and his family luvd ti) be provided for at tho public
exptaise.

4G5. his. — Aristides.

ray. — i.e., disposition. An .allusion to the Ix^Hef in the influence
of the planets and their relrtive iK>fiitions on the chartict<;r of the child. In
the ejist, esiKicially among the Mohammedans, lustrology is still believed in.

4r)6. Cimon, son of Miltiades, by Aristides' advic<^ shook off his bad
habits rtnd distinguished himself against the Peisians. Having :ic<piired
great wealth lie employed it freely in embellisluug his native city, Athens,
and assisting the deserving \xm)t. He became the leader of the aristocratic
party and tlie ilval of Pericle:^ who procured his ostnicisn^ for five years.

471. declining.— Aft*;r the Peloixnmesian War.

472. unequal.— «.<;., to the former.

474. Timoleon.— b. 394. Consented to the death of his brother,
Tim«)phanes, who had made himself tyrant of Corinth, his native city. It
being doubtful whether he was a murderer or a patriot, he was sent to help
the people o( Syracuse, a colony of Corinth, against their tyrant Dionysius
and the Carthaginians. Here he was successful, defeating even Hasdrubal
and Hamilcar with one-seventh the number of their men. He expelled the
tyrants from the Greek cities of Sicily and defined tho boundaries of tho
Carthaginian ctilony. He organized the laws of Syracuse on a democratic
basis and died there an honoured private citizen in 335.

WINTER.

121

470. pair. — Epaniiintu laa and P«'loi)iflaH. Thoir friendship is ont- of
ilio ino«t bt'jiutiful tliing.s recorded in (ircck history. V. cxiMllcd tht
Spi-rtans and organized and trained the celebrated " saered band" of
Thebew, which contrili.ited so mneh t^) the victories of K. over the SiKirtans
at r>'uctra, 371, and Mantine;»,, :HV2. Under K., ThoU'H, which h.wl never
had nnich infhicnco, row to Im^ the h(>;ul of (jIrfHHX\

4H1. Phocion, b. ton n.C— An Ath<'nian general and statesman.
Although he defoat(Kl IMiilip of Mace<|on in wvc^ral engagements, yet h«'
recogniz«xi the it;al atrtnigth of Macedon oh opposed to Gre<xx! and proiH)w><l
an alliancfi. lie was in conseqinmce an <)pj»onent (►f 1 )f«mosthenea and the
war party and foil into disnqmte. 1I(^ strongly oi>]K>Hefi the pro|»os«'<l
rej(Mcings at Philip's assassination (!-?^i(»), and aft<'r the def<yit of the
Athenians by Antipati^r, pr(»cure<l a considerabh; mitig.ition of tlu.'ir punish-
m(!nt. Forced to fltH! the city he t<Hik i-efuge among the Phociiwis, who
l)a,sely delivered him up, and he wascomiKilleti lik«) Socra,t(^^, by th(^ ungrat<'-
ful Athenians, to drink the hendock, 817. In privat<' life, a nuHlel of
court<'8y and in public life of integrity, he may be con.sidered as the comiHHT
of Timoleon.

4S(»-8. sons. — l)esc<>ndants. Afris I IT., onv, oi the two Kings of Sparta
L'41 B.C., tho'.ight to restore the old Spai-tjin spirit and to stay tUvifrr(ui€ncc
of the state by restoi-ing in their strictness the institutions aini laws of
LycurgUH. Ho carrie<l the abolition of d(;bts, and in the n<'w p;irtition of
the lands awakened so much opixwition that he was put to death along with
all his family by his c<jllca,gue Leonidas.

4!)1. After the death of Epaminondas the sui)eriority of TlK^b<w rapidly
declined, and the Achacans for .sometime held it by means of their famous
League, which they wished to ext^'nd to the whole of Grecxjc. Aratus waB
General of the League in 24.") V-C, and held the office many timetj. He
recovered CJorinth from M.aoedon, but Sparta's jealou.sy forf^d him U)
become her ally. Phil(»iHemen, Cieneral of the League in 208, revived the
martial spirit (1. 495), and forced the Spartans and Aetolians to join the
Leagut), which was allowed by the Romans to exist as an aid against
Macedon, till 14G B.C., when it was dissolved. P. has been called the last
of the Greeks.

491. relumed. — Lighted Jigain. Give other words from the same root
(lumen).

493. hope.— Ca43e!

496. toiling BWaln.— Relation?

498. ijeople.— The Romans.
too fondly.-^ee 1. 503.
virtuous times of the republic.

I!-

I
i

■f !

122

NOTES.

502. better founder. —J ><c{Uiso Nimui founded the religious institu-
tions of Koine. By some rc<,';irded us niytliiciil.

504. Servius Tullius, the ()th Kinp, foundctl tlie Roman Constitu-
tion. In II gener.ll way, Solon'.s principle may bo said to be the basis, that
grc^ater possessions shoultl have a greattir influence in the councils of the
natittn.

505. The Kings w.^re expelled sli(»rtly after, and Rome became it republic.
L. .r. Brutus, consul of the n<!\v republic, ordered his sons to be put to
death for attempting to restore the e>. celled King (Tanpiin).

507. who the private quelled.— Subordinattd his feel ngs iis a
par<!nt to his conviction of dutj' to the state.

50S. as. — Supply he sat—SkW unusual ellipsis with as, though similar ones
are quite common with while.

510. Oamillus. — Consul 103 B.C., was victorious against the Volscians
and Veil, l^'ahaii. The democratic party accused liim of inordinate gi'eed
after the spoils, and also of peculation. In conseciuence he retired to Ardea,
but was recalled in oDO to exi)el the Gauls under l^rennus. Camillus in
this, as in all other tilings, was W(mderfully successful ; in fact his recorded
feats I'ather strain one's powers of belief.

only. — Is this word in its proper place ?

511. Fabricius.— Consul 2S2 li.C, sent to treat with Pyrrhus, King of
Ki)irus, who had invaded Italy, refused all his offers of r.ioney, and on the
(»ther hand spurned th(^ proposal of Pyrrhus's doct<^r to dispose of thn King
by pois(m.

Oincinnatus.— Consul 460 B.C., was found at his plough by the
Senate's messengers in 45S, when th(^y implored his accc^ptance of the dic-
tatorship to save the stati; from the -<35qui and Volsci. In three weeks he
had done his work, resigned his office and retiied to his farm. He was
dictator a second time, but resigned after nearly as shc^rt a period.

513. willing victim. — Regulus, a consul in the first Punic war. He
invaded Africa, but falling into the hands of the Carthaginians was sent to
Rome, under parole, to propose an exchange of prisoners. He advised the
Senate to continue the war, and in spite of the entreaties of his family and
fiiends returned to Carthage, althmigh certain of a cruel death. See Horace,
bk. ili., ode 5. Niebuhr casts doubt on the story of his barbarous death.
History and poetry have lent their embellishments to many names of the
monarchy and early republic.

517. Scipio, called Africanus (minor), from destroying Carthage 140
B.C., and Nuvmntmus, from his capture of Numantia in Spain, B.C. 133.
Unpopular on account of his aristocratic feelings and his opposition to the
reforms of his brother-in-law, Tiberius Ch-acchus ; murdi^red, probably by
some oi the supporters of the Sempionian law. A man of culture, well

WINTER.

123

and on the

vorsod ill (irnek liU'ratiiro ; :i close friend of the consul Laelius, (their friend-
hliii) was celebrated throu}<liout llom*} and led Cicero to make Laeliua tlie
chief siieaker in \m J)c Amicitia), i\\v. historian Polybius, and the i)oet
Terence, whom he and Laelius are said to have assisted in his plays.

521. TXiWy.—Marcm Tuflius Cicero, 106-13 li.C, Kouks's great orator
and man of letters, was at 27 the first man at the Roman bar,
(HUEscor in Sicily 76, jedile (>!), pnetor (JO, consul iui, and in this last olHce
earned the title of Father of his Country by crushing the; conspiracy of that
political desperado, Catiline. In the struggle between Ciesar and romp(>y,
was a lukewann friend of Pompey's, but after Diarsalia went over to Ciesar
and was graciously received. Till Cajsar's death was in retirenKJiit and
engaged on his chief works in philosophy and rhetoric. In th(! proscription
that followed the ft)rinatioii of the 2nd triumvirate, Cicero was on Antony's
list and was overtaken and slain by his soldiers while attem[)ting to leave
Italy. Cicca'o was devoid of heroism of character, and although he had
legislative ability due to his acute mind and wide information, he was too
(lelicieiit in courage and i)olitical sagacity to become a leader of r.ien in
those troublous and corrupt times. But he was the greatest mast«-. of
rhetoric that ever lived, and at that time elocpience was relatively (tf more
importance than now. His love of applnuse, his unweari(?d diligence, his
great natural f.iculties quickened and strengthened by study, his unlimited
l)ower of expression, language, and the luminous trt;atment of his subject,
have all combined to make his orations our most splendid examples of
forensic eloquence. Even now, when the subject matter has lost all living
interest and classical study is on the wane, they are still read with pleasure
and furni. .i models for imitation to aspirants in our own tongue.

523. Oato, 23-1-149 B.C., commonly called the Censor. In his youth
distinguished himself at the bar, became consul and exhibited considerable
military talent in quelling disturbances in Spain (206). When 50 years old
was appointed Censor at Rome, and the duties of this office gavt; him fine
opportunities for exhibiting that strictness in morals and that untiinching
honesty which had now become but too rare. He did great service in
paving and draining the city and in checking the rapacity of contractors for
[)ublic wo rks. But his interference in matters relating to wages, dress, fur
niture, etc., failed, as sumptuary laws always do. His severity and sternness
gained for him by way of prominence the title of Censor.

As Cato Major (above) is not in ])rope, chnmological order with the rest,
l)erhaps Thomson referred to Cato Minor, 1)5 46, who served in the army
against Spartacus with credit, and afterwards became qutestor and tribune.
He was an adherent of Pompey, and after Pharsalia (48 B.C.) fled to
Africa, and on hearing of the defeat by Csesar of Pompey's jjarty at
Thapsus, stabbed himself. He belonged to the Stoics and possessed great
decision and energy of character.

124

NOTES.

I,
!■

524. Brutus, Hr)-42, aftor Th.-ii-.'^alia, received a province frotn Ciesar.
On returning to Rome, Ca8.siuH prevailed on him to join the conspiracy
again.st Ctusar. Tho eloquence of Antony over Caesar's dead body so
incensed the; jjopulace that he fled from Home and from It.aly. In Asiii
Minor he kept np a sort of pni^'rilla warfare af,'ainst Octavianus and
Antony, but Unng defeated by them at Phillippi, 42 IJ.C, he fell upon his
sw(»rd. ShakesiKjare (Jufiuti O(esar) is iKjrhaps resjMmsible for tho ix)pular
idea of IJrutus's character, a character not tof) heroic.

520. Roman etoel. — Cfesar being stabljed at the foot of PomiJey's
pillar, and setnng Brutus among the number, is reported to have said
reproachfully, " Kt tu lirute !" The ejMthet Roman may \yv applied becau.se
th(^ detni was one of vengeance against him who had destroyed the liberties
of Rom(> and had Ixxjome its tyrant, or may refer to the Bt<'rn and deter
mined character of these r(!publican conspirators, who unfortunately could
tind no cure for the ills of the state but in assassination.

527. verso. -(jrive the meaning and derivation.

528. demand. — In what sense iistnl here.

count. — A d(mblet of cmiiimtc. Give similar pairs of doubhits, and
iiccount for their existence.

532. PhCBbus. — AiM>Ilo, GotI of light, therefore of i»oetry and the fine
arts ; the ty^x; of beauty for painting and sculpture.

Mantuan swain.— Virgil, 70-19 ]^..C., lx»rn near Mantua, here
called suHiin either Ixicause his father was a farmer, or because his early
works, the EcJoifucs^ were pastoral in their character, and the (h'ori/ics
related t<i luisbandry. His most finished production was the Oeorrrics, biit
his greatest work was the yJt/ncid, next to the Iliad and (Jiji/Hscy of Homer,
the greatest epic poem .among the ancients. Its subject, the origin of the
Roman iK^)ple, was suggestod by A\igustus. In many instances he copies
from earlier i)oet8, Homer, Theocritus, Enniiis, but gen(>rally with add(><^l
grace of diction, if not with added strength or vividn(!ss of imagination.
No oth(»r Latin iK)ets but Horace can dispute the palm with him, and his
amiable and retiring disixmition endeared him to all.

533. Homer. — Author of the Iliad and Odyssey, the greatest epics of
Greece, and jxirhaim of tne world. There is nothing known with certainty
of his life, and his very existence has been denied. See Grote I., c. 21.

534. parent. — About 900 B.C. Very few earlier ix)ems of any merit
exist.

535. British muse. — Milton. Dryden's lines, adjudging Milton as

even suiHirior to the other two, though often quoted are worth quoting again :

" Three iK>ets, in three distant ages born,
(TrcQco, Italy, and England did adorn.
Th(! "first in loftiness of thought surpassed,
The next in majesty, in lK)th the last.
' Th(; force of natin-e could no further go,
To n\ake a third she joined the other two."

ivs i i.

WINTER.

125

and the lim

ScliilliT has tlu! same idea:

"(la sie (tlu- P.ritis]» Mnsi')
Einst Tiiit (|<'r Macimid, und jciirr,
Am Kajiitnl dun luiszcn Sand trat."

')Sii. darkling.— 1^'inK in tlu' dark, l)<>tli llomrr jiiul Miltuii lirii^r
liliiid, — an a<lvi'i4) fornu'd from <jUirk by tht- adverbial sulfix linii. ("omiian-
hidliiHi O.K. form \d tuadlotuj ; fall up, right up. Notu tlu; coninion plinu^c
" til climb I'arnaHsns."

537-0. those shades.— The Attic trage<li:;,n8, yEschyluH, Si.phoch k,
;iiid Kuripidt's, in whose hands th(^ drama, wliich had ori,L,'inate<l in tlic choral
.services accompanying the worHhij) of Dionysus, was not a mere anm.Mcment,
hut a means employed for religious and moral teaching. ^]schylus intro
duced action and dramatic dialogue, in plivce of the iH'ri>etual chorus ; also
.scenery, masks, dresses, etc. Sophocles improved on A. and gainetl the
prize over him (4(»4 B.C.), Cimon being judge. In the tragedies of these
two there is a constant subjection of the iicti(m of tlu; play to tlu' disiH)sing
of de.stiny. S. is accoxmted the most iK'rfe<;t of the three, his verse Ix'ing
soft and harmonious, and a faithful reflex of the human passions. Euripides
was rather une<|ual, although on some occasions he was preferred to his
elder rival, Sophocles. It may Ix) added that the Athenians were very fond
of dramatic entertainments, and that under Pericles the i)oorer classes were
provided out of the public funds with the means of att<;nding the th(^•ltre.

540. lyre. — Tin; chi(;f lyric tx)ets of Grwce were Alcaeus, Sappho,
An:vcrcH)n, Simonide'.s and Pinilar. Anacreon Iwus Inen imitated and some
say improved on by our own ])oet Moore. Give a list of JMiglish lyric ixiets.

543. mount, trans, causative ; mxirinij, so the phrase " flight of
iniiigination."

544. door be thine. — Be my doorkt^i^er.

54«)-7. friends . . . roof.— See life.

547. sense. — Literary tiiste.

.54S. digested, i.e. so as to affect the judgment and taste, m)t like
cram, the memory alone, and even that not lastingly.

549. ] Mstinguish wit ami hurrwur.

550. Muses' hill.— Parnassus.

551. sacred, to contemplation.

.553. sweeter is abetter epithet for Pojx^'s transl;ition of ITomer than
for the original. Bentley, the great classical scholar, in acknowledging a
copy, said, " It is a very pretty poem, Mr. Poi>e, but it is not Homer."

554. This statement may seem open to doubt, y«^t in spite of his
iwevishne.ss, his jealousy, his vanity, and his stinging satire, the "wicked
wasp of Twickenham " was not devoid of generosity or a manly spirit.

126

NOTES.

Hi/

' ,'

■■ '

i^B'j'

^B f

. 'i

-■

^K ''

1 :

9 '

556. Haramond.— M(!iii1)ur for Truro, and a friond of TlioniKon, wrote
olugiacB of no merit, and was often among the tuneful throng of poets
visiting Thomson's cottage. He died at 32.

558-G4. Discuss the appropriateness of the words vernal, ravished, stmnj,
glowing,

505-6. patriots. — Those opposed to Wali)ole. What avails now.

570. They were only shewed (shewn) ; fond, foolish.

575. If— whether ; sprung for sprang, supply if it.

578. Supply would search.

580. gradual— Adv.

581. diffusive.— Diffused.
583. embroiled.— Confused.

586. historic muse. —Clio. Name some of the others.

591 2. double suns. — As the sun is the source of all animal and
\'egetable life, this means double prosperity ; brightest skies, tropics.

594-5. Luke xxiv. 32.— Portion of divinity, a doctrine of Socrates.

597-9. doomed. -Sentenced : repress, Gr. Elegy 5i-59.
ardent, kindling*. — Compare the meanings.

609-10. foiled, shifting.— The metaphor is probably taken from
fencing.

play. — Display.

is foiled, would play.— Is this a proper correspondence of
tenses ?

612. assembled train. The ideas are somewhat incongruous ; pro-
bably assembled isloosely vised f *:• "connected." Derive the words, accounting
for the 6 in assevxhlcd, and showing how the different meanings of train are
connected.

614. A fair poetical definition of wit ; see 1. 549.

616. Milton is much more expressive : '* And laughter, holding both his
sides." V Allegro, 1. 32.

625. Compare Goldsmith : " The bashful virgin's side-long look of love."
D.V. 29. Is putting the serious before the gay in this picture, G17-G28, a
natural order ?

626-8. on purpose guardless.— Explain what figure?
haul.— Is this an effective word ?
shook for shaken,
respondent.— Responsive.

631. mixed.— In old editions spelled mixt. It is a great pity that these
past tenses and participles in t have gone out of use. In many cases of
rhyme tlie eye as well as tlie oar would be satisfied by their use.

Ill

WINTEU.

127

1 taken from

ispondeucc of

(;;i2. sons of riot. Com pjun Milton's "sons of Belial tlown with
insolence and crime." V.L. 1. 502.

()33-4. loose.— Lawless,

rankled. —Festered. Festering is the common term.

r)3<S-9. The ideas in along and diyinc seem to clash a little. Ways, parse ;
evolved, involved.

040-41. BfiFuses.— Pours forth. Effulgence bcavi'd.

()44-5. As an insect's wings are covered with [Kuvder, so the fop's arms
(wings) were covered with the powder which fell from his hair. The ust^ of
IK)wder was then general among the fasiiionable. 15y act of parliament it
was to be pure starch, and at (me time the tax on it yielded a reveime of
£20,000. As a bit of sarcastic wit, these lines are among Thomson's happiest
examples.

(140-55. Hamlet and Othello are well known Shakesi)earian
cliaracters.

Monimia and Belvidera are characters, the first in Otway's
(frphan,t\ni second in his Venice Preserved.

Bevil. — A character in Steele's Conscious Lovers.

fair impartial.— Are the two epithets needed?

With this passage compare 11. Pens. 97, and L'Allajro 132.

050. Lord Chesterfield, 1G94-1773, well-known as the model of a jtolitc
(1)71) and dignified (001) gentleman. He was an opponent of WaliM)le
(()(!',)-70), held, however, several important posts, and was Viceroy of Ireland.
Hi* elocjuence was marked by delicacy and irony (058 and 075). He is best
known by his famous " Letters to his Son, ' the general puriM)rt of which is
that success in life is due as much to good manners as to ability and probity.
Several of Thomson's lines are tinged with exaggeration.

059. Qraces. — According to the Greek mythology, three beautifu'
gotldesses that lend their grace and beauty to everything that delights and
elevates gods and men.

000. Apollo.— See note on 532.

001. give.— Permit or enable.

002. guardian.— In what case ?

003. rural.— Why this epithet ?
005. shades of retirement.
072. Even.— Parse.

presumptuous, in setting the fashions, etc.

075. Attic point and Attic salt are phrases expressive of the pun-
gency and Hi)arkle of Athenian wit.

078-9. or let me hail thee rising thence, ».t'., from these qualities.
080. Senate. — House of Lords.

1
I

128

NOTES.

,. i ,

if'

^ ■ tit

If if*

()84-5. Other men'H tJumphts are made clearer by his reasoiiiiif?.

687. reluctant party.— Wm. III., by the Earl of Sunderlaiurs
advice in 1093, selected the chief officers of state from that party which had
the majority in the House of Conmions, giving origin to what ia known
party government. There are evils seemingly inseparable from the system ;
(tne is hinted at here, the tendency to sink one's private judgment before the
demands of the i)arty. Others might be mentioned, as, "To the victors
belong the sjKtils," " The minority has no rights to be resj)octed.' But it is
easier to jwint evils than to suggest a remedy.

01)0. you roll. — Is this correct after using thou and th^/ above

691-3. haunt.— The country.

serene.— Sky.

694. "Nitre is a salt of i)otassinni, commonly called SaltiK>tre. Here
us(xl f-or any salt capable of subtle intermixture with the air. Nitre cools
gas under heat with great rajndity. The iMwt's notion sevms to have been
that frost was not <mly an effect of a certain conditi<m of the atmos[>here,
but an actually existing thing, which he liere likens U.) a finely divided salt.
Compare 1. 718. But it may mean only oxygen, which Priestly calls nitr( .
See I'ask, iii., 32, and Autttrun, 1. 5." — Bright. The liist explanation setans
an odd one, seeing that Priestly was born some years aft<'r Thomson's lines
wore written.

695-6. Frost exerciser a drving influence on damp soils and arrests tlie
progress of contagious dise:v!^i3, or the effects of malaria, Ixiing destructive
to the morbific germs which thrive by heat and moisture.

698. constringent, i.e., binding binds, etc., in T.'s pleonastic manner.
The greater vigour of northern nations is no doubt d\ie to climatic influence
and to the greater and enforotd care taken of youth.

699-703. feeds is nonsense ; cold animates because it n<H,'essitate8 motion
to quicken the circulation. The vigorous body makes the vigorous mind.
" Mens sana in s^no oorpore."

intense. — Alert and i)owerful.

706. concocted soems to mean Hpcncd, Oeorgic, 1. 65-6 ; so Bacon.
The effect of snow and frost on soils is well known to be beneficial, rendering
them friable, and 8<i more absjorptivt^ of those constituents (carbimic acid,
watt^r and ammonia) necessary to plant life.

707. soul.— Life. ^

709-10. Give the cause of this.

luculent.— Beauteous or shining. Notice the fine effect of
the oontraat in (the once) auUen dee()s (now) transitarent, and the imitative
harmony of tnummr hoarser.

WmTKU.

129

7l(»-21. illusive. — Water eluding the grasp, bllunivc uuld be more
appropriate. Distinguish elude, illude, evade.
salts. — See note to 094.
ether.— Air.

721. Steamed. — "An icy gale steamed eagcr~breath(>H." The idea
eems to be that the frost rising like a vapour from these i>articleK fills the
gale and makes it icy.

red horizon in the west at sunset, a sign of frost. — Gcorgic
Hi. 368.

723-4. Wilson finds great beauty in the words "breathes a bhie lilni."
The words "oft sliifting " don't se<'m natural here.

Bicker. — FormtMi from jtick, to jx'ck with the hrak (Skeat).

bickering. — Originally then, fighting- -here quickly moving,
(piivering. Compare "that, as they bickc^red thnmgh the sunny sl>ade. a
lulling murmur made." — Castle of IndiAince, Canto 1, st. 3.

725. Let. — Permitted to go.

sedgy. - Covered with rivcir-Hags (water-iris).

731. C<)wi)er says,

" While silently beneath,
And uni^rceived, the current steals away."

Which is truer to nature ?

732-4. reflects.— Gives back,
double.— Very loud.
deters. —Frightens away.
nightly.— By night.

73(). swells.— What is meant ?

738. Ethereal round.— Explain.

740-6. cope.— Canopy.

rigid influence.— Frost, which makes rigid.
unjoyous.— Not in use now.

748-9. Prone moans with fac<3 downwards ; can only mean pendent here.

The next line is very expressive.

751. fancied.— Fanciful, fantastic.

transient. — Distinguish from transitory,

754. plumy. —The branches covered with feathery snow, nodding like
iTie plumes of a hearse.

755-9. refined and incrusted hard scM-m rath(>r contradicti try. W hy
would putting the word shepherd and the attendant words in the plural spoil
the effect of the picture?

7(>3. dissolv'd - Separate<l.

704. rrvptured.— Enrapturwl,

It-

130

NOTES.

i i

r 1 1

767. — void of care.— This rather misrci-resents the industrious Dutch-
man, to whom skating is not always a pleasure, but sometimes a matter of
business, going to market, etc.

768. Batavia.— The old classical name of Holland, from Batavi, a
Clerman nation (Catti according to Tacitus) who immigrated there before
Cje^ar's time. ITotice the change of number in rushes and they. How may
it be defended?

771. then gay.— The Dutch being proverbially phlegmatic.

772. courts, i.e., roj'alty and nobility of Norway, Sweden, etc.

773. Distinguish sled, sledj^e, and sleigh.

775. manly strife. -See L' Allegro, 121.

777. Why are the Norwegian and Sw lish ladies flushed by hose.ison?
buxom. — Lively and handsome.

7H0-82. elapses, i.e., slips by. See n<jte 47-41).
gelid. —Cold as ice.
ineffectual.— Explain why.

783-5. azure.— From the ice.
relents. —Thaws.

793, game. —Here, any object of tlie chase. In Engl.-.nd certain
animals are i)r( tected at certain seasons by (janic laws. A revenue is also
derived from licenses given for shooting. Are th'jre any game laws in
Canada ?

794. our iniant winter.— Explain the force of the epithet.

796-7. shoot.— Swiftly glance.

relentless months. — At the iwlcs there are six m(mths of
day and then six months of night— shortening, of course, as you proceed
towards the equator.

799. there. —Siberia, the ordinary place of banislnuent for Russian
subjects who have fallen under the czar's displeasiue. Tii»»mson has rather
exaggerated the horrors of a Siberian winter.

805. main.— Arctic Ocean.

808. Oathay. — China. The transit trade by caravan is chit^fly done at
Kiahta, a town of about 5,000, 1.50 m. south of Lakti Baikal, o.. the Chinese
frontier- tea and furs being of course the principal articles of exchange.

809. -with.— What is the relation?

811. furry nations.— F«)r similar epithets see 87, 137.

814. freaked.— Mottled, t>r rather with irregular and brok"ii lines
What are the chief fur-bearing aniiuals and tiieir habitats?

\i 'h

WINTER.

131

■ ho sen-Hon ?

818. heapy. — In heaps, formed, it is said, by the animal itself, with ita

antlers.

elk. — It is getting very scarce in Siberia now, and is not common

in North America. The antlers sometimes weigh 120 lbs., and the whole

animal from 800 to 1200 lbs.

822. With the exception of the substitution of clubs for knives (/(vro)
the passage 81G-82G is a close iiaitation of Virgil's account of the Scythians.
—Geo. Hi. 3(59-375.

824. bray is not expressive of the elk's cry ; there seems to be no word
esiiecial to this animal. Bell is used by Scott for the noise the deer makes.

811 jet. — A variety of lignite, very Vjlack and capable of high i)oHsh,
found in many parts of the world, and used for crosses, mourning ornaments.
Here of course cl jet colour is meant.

812-13. ermine, sable, are both ai 'nals of the weasel kind. Ermines
in winter become perfectly white, excei)t the tip of the tail, which always
reniiiins black. The fur forms a distinctive border for the n)bea of judr ;'s;
the word ermine being in consequence often used as a synonyme for the
office of judge. The saMe is perfectly black, found chiefly in Siberia, and
its fur, like that of the ermine, is extremely valuable.

827. piny. — In cold regions pines are among the trees that last survive.
absorpt. - Half sunk in snow ; for absorbed and more euphonic.
See note on mixed, 1. 413.

823. shapeless. -From its long shaggy hax..
horrid. —Bristling.

833. May refer to its hibernation, or being torpid during winter.

835. Bootes. — The two stars in the handle of the plough point to the
constellation of Bootes, the ploughman, of \,'hich Arcturus is the chief star.

wain. — An older and chiefly poetical spelling of wagon. The con-
stellation of the Great Bear ( Ursa Major), is also known as the Plough,
the Dipper, and Charles's Wain (ceorl's or peasant's wagon) ; called here
tardy, because revolving slowly about the North pole.

83G. boisterous.— Turbulent.

Oaurus. -The North- West wind. — Geo. Hi. 356.

838. swarm. — Four great tides of immigration from Asia into F-ioik;
may be marked : first that into Greece and Italy ; then the Celtic and
Cimbrian, who occupied Britain, France and Spain ; then the Gi^rmanic, into
the north and centre ; then the Slavcmic, peopling the North- East, pressed
uixm by Huns beyond the Ural Mountains, and the Tartars Ix^yond tlm
Caspian. Perhaps Thomson had 8i)ecially in mind thi, Goths. Their earli-
est home was Scandinavia, but about 200 A. D., they began to move south-
ward in three great divisitms, one of which under Alaric, s.ocked the city of
Rome (410) ; another founded a kingH«mi in Spain.

i il

132

NOTES.

1 .

relumed.— See 491 note.

flame of liberty. — Being a migratory nation they were nccfssurily
warriors and free. Later on, becoming more settled, the feudal system
(1. 842) was intro'luced, which in time develoixxl for the great mass of the
pet)ple into a new kind of slavery, as burdensome, if not as completely desti-
tute of civil rights, as that of Rome under the Empire. In England the
IKJople were a little more fortunate.

840. drove, intrans. Note Milton's greater force and vividness in
referring to the same subject — P.L. I. 301.

A multitude, like which the ix)pulou8 North
Poured never from her frozen loins, to pass
Rhene or the Danaw, where her barbarous sons
Came like a deluge on the South, and spread
Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands.

844. insensate. —The usual moaning is stupid, i.e., without sense (i)er-
C)i)tive) ; here i)erhap8 means "mad" or "without reason."

840. Compare what Goldsmith says of the Swiss. — Traveller, 199-208.

847. No desires bid it (the current) rage thro', etc.

853. cheerful oups.— What is meant?
855. Sledge is more common.

them. — The Lapps.

854. obsequious. — Has this word its ordinary meaning here ?
857. marbled.— Meaning here ? Give the other.

859. The Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights, gives some relief to the
Arctic inhabitants during their dreary nights of months in duration.

They are probably of electrical origin, and in some way connected with
disturbances in the magnetic currents of the earth. Their frequency and
brilliancy seem greatest in the latitude of Spitzbergen. It is doubtful
whether any noise occurs with them, as has been alleged.

by.— They find by meteors.

862. doubled lustre.— Reflection.

867. Aurora. - Goddess of the morning.

875. Mauixirtius in his book on the Figure of the Earth, after des.
cribing the beautiful lake* and mountain of Niemi, in Lapland, says : " We
had been frighted with stories of bears that haunted this place, but saw none.

It seemed rather a resort for fairies and genii than bears I was

surpristid to soe on the bank^ of this river (the Tenglio) roees of as lively a
rod as any that are in our gardeti."

877. fry— Young fish just produced from the spawn.

• tents. —Covered with reindeer hide, or conical mud huts raised
on stakes.

S ■■ '

WINTER.

133

vidness in

elief to the

884-6. Is -whose swains -nor— their daughters— a correct con
struction? spotless and blooming must be undt'rst«»od in a Pick-
wickian sense.

883. interest.— Love of power and richee.
Why fell?

887-8. Tornea.— Where?

Hec'la flaming - Explain.

893. new seas. —In the other hemisphere.

cerulean.— Sky -colored. Compare azure, 783. Winter's C<mrt
is di«orutod. Show the points of rosembljince in th(^ comparison.

895-901. — This image has been much admired.

903. she— The Muse.

main.— Arctic Ocean.

909. projected.— Projecting.

910. Alps.— Here for any m(.untain ; properly, pastures on the moun-
tain sides. See n. 445-8.

911. chaos. — With some of the ancients, ime of the oldest gods,
waS- -Is this gnunmatically o<irrect?

912. Notice the effective use of the words shake and a-jfid.

914. binding. —Explained by what follows. Compare 730-1.

915. taken. —As a captive.
boundless.— Of limitless ix)wer.

920. conscious of coming evil to itself.

922. descending. —To an ab.sence of months.

924. incumbent. —Brooding.

925. Briton's fate.— An exix)dition sent by a company of adventurers
in 1.553, to discover a north-e.ost passage to India, under Sir Hugh Willough-
by, Richard Chancellor and Stephen Burroughs, After cxijeriencing much
stormy weather two of the shii)6 entered the river Arzina, which is east of
the North Cai)e. There both commanders and crews jKirished, their lK>die9,
to;,'ether with the journal of the voyage, having Ix'en discovered by S4>me
Russian sailors. The other ship, Chancellor's, escaping, was wrecked on its
way home off the coast of Scotland. — Morris.

928. in vain, i.e., in search of a north-west passaga Give an account
of the various oxiKxiitions. One may be excused for wondering wh.at proH-
ixxjt (A commercial advantagt^ there can be to justify such an exix'iiditure of
money and energy and life.

930-35. One of the most expressive, although grufsome pictures in all
Thomson's jxK'try, or indee<i in anybody's inx^try.

froze (intrans), i.e., while in motion. So " arrests the bicker,
stream ' (725).

■i-

' ■;■; ■!

134

NOTES.

glued.— being glued.

935. Bell says: "This account is imaginary (930-5); the poet describes
the process of petrifaction, not of freezing. "

937. Ostiacs and Samoyedes, chiefly between the Obi and Yenesei, little
influenced as yet by Russian civilization or Christianity.

enlivened. — Has this its usual meaning here ?
distant. — Is this a correct word ?

942-3. unjoyous cheer.— What figure ?
waste.— Spend uselessly.

944-5. gross. — Refers to their filthy habits and dull intellects, no doubt
due in a measure to the severity of the cold, which scarcely permits cleunli
ness, and which necessitates the almost exclusive use of fatty auinial food.

94G. kindred. — From their appearance or sluggishness.
quivered.— With quiver.

950-4. active government.— Paternal government may be suited
to society in its early stages, but as people become civilized and educated,
the most successful results come from giving, consistent with i)eare and order,
the widest scope to individual freedom of action. When Thomson wrote,
the Russians were hardly accounted as belonging to the family of EuroiK^^an

nations.

gothio- — Here a common adjective. So the word vandalism.

See n. 1. 8oG vC seq.

955. Peter, Czar of Russia, 1672-1725, a man of brutal and passionat*'
disposition, but of indomitable energy. What he did for Russia is pretty
accurately recounted in the text, making allowance for the exaggeration
natural in poetry. Despite his almost superhuman exertions, the Russians
are still behind the rest of Europe, and retain traces of their Tartar origin
(1. 952). It was a saying of Bonaparte's, " Scratch a Russian and you'll
find a Tartar."

900-2. Ye shades.— See 1. 437 et seq.

labouring. — In distress, as a ship labours.

964. left. — In 1697, visiting Prussia, Hanover, Hollanl, England, etc.

966. greatly.— Grandly.

967-9. At Saardam, in Holland, he worked for some time as a common
shipwright. " That large mind, equal to the highest duties of the general
and the statesman, contracted itself to the most minute details of naval
architecture and naval discipline." He spent three months in England,
living at Deptford, in John Evelyn's house, and left it in such a dirty state
that the Government quieted his ^E.'s) grumblings with a sum of money.
On Peter and his visit, read Macaulay, chap, xxiii., vol. 5.

WINTER.

135

buiiual fuod.

ndalism.

!)70-3. Scarcely anything escav>ed Peter's reforming zeal. He took away
with him from England, engineers, artificers, surgeons, artisans, aitillery-
iiu-n, etc., to the number of 500. The organization and discii)line of an
army, the building of a navy, trade with ft)reign countries, improvements in
dress, manners and etiquette, the education of the nobility, the introduction
of indirect taxation, the keeping of accounts in t,he modem way instead of
by the old Tartar method of balls strung on a wire, the encouragement of
architecture, painting and sculpture, are among the many benefits conferred
on Russia by this large-minded tyrant.

He laid the foundation of St. Petersburgh, the new capital, in May, 1703,
and it .s^jeedily became the commercial depot of the IJaltic.

975. Alluding to Peter's projects of joining the Don and Volga by a
can.al ; also the Black Sea (liuxine) and ]5altic.

!)77. Would to be more effective than with ?

1)80. Charles XII, King of Sweden, Peter's chief rival. Peter coveted
the provinces on the Baltic which then belonged to Sweden, and taking ad-
vantage of Charles' youth, allied himself with Poland and Denmark against
Sweden. In the battle of Narva, and several succeeding battles, the Swedes
were victorious, but at Poltawa, in 1709, Charles was tt)tally routed and
became a fugitive among the Turks. Peter was at war with the Turks also,
as he desired possessi(m of the Black Sea coast as well as the Baltic.
Charles has been called here the Alexander of the North en account of his
passion for war, although he possessed great abilities in other directions.
See note, 1. 318. He g(»t back to Sweden, and was making head against his
numerous enemies when he was killed before Frederickshald, Nov. 1718.
After his death Sweden sank from the preeminence it had acquired
under him.

981. Othman was third caliph of the Moslems after Mahomet, and the
Turks perhaps got their nr^nie of Ottomans from him. The word shrinking
is contrary to the truth, as in th;; war referred to (see n. 980) Peter was
surrounded and in danger of captivity ; Catherine, his mistre.ss- his wife a
few years later — procured his escaj)e by bribing the Turkish officials with
her j(!wels and articles of her wardrobe.

983. Proud of deeds now reck- laed dishonorable.
it.— The land.

blunted.— Is not keen.

resolves. — Lo<i.sens.

spotted. -Explain how this agi'ees with the idea of shining.
993. What are the bonds ?
995. brown.— From alluvial matter.
997-9. sullen, shackles.— Because bound l)y the ico.

988.

991.

<,M

136

NOTES.

1 >

Hi i

1002. riftod.— Riven, Hplit.
it bursts.— What?

1004. charged.— L«>.ulf>d.

wretches. — In what senso used ?

lOOo. moors. — From what lanpn.'4{?c havo wn borrowcfl most of our
nautical words? ComiKtre Par. Lost, i., 20G-8.

1007. Explain, if i>)B8ible, the meaning of the words :

"And horror looks moi-e horrible."

1008. force. — "Strength" would seem more appropriate with "endure."

1013. bellowing.— Com j>are Dry den's

** And rooks the bellowing voice of brnling seas rebound."

1014. more to embroil.— To disturb still more.

Leviathan.— Compare Job xli. 31, and Par. Lost, i. 200-8,
and vii. 410-6. The whale needs no dcHcription ; it is sufficient to say
that, like the dolphin, p<)rr>oi8e, and some others, it is not a fish, as it brings
forth its 5'oung alive and suckles them like an ordinary mammal ; breathis
with lungs, and can, like some land animals, ha drowned by being kept tixi
long under water. The tail (train in the text) moves like a sculler's oar,
Of like the screw of a steamer, with a combined downward and lateral motion;
but when urged to speed, directly up and down.

1015-26. tempest.— Verb.

loading. — The ordinary phrase is "borne by the ^vinds.'
monsters. — White bears, etc.
Milton makes groat use of the suggestive in his poetry, Thompson very
little. The phrase, "there awaiting wrecks," fitly concludes these two
powerful lines, and gives a vividness to the picturt; which, perhaps, no direct
statement oould give.

1027. the tuneful, i.e., the birds.

1021)-32. A theatrical image. Compare Shakesix\'iro's celebrated passage,
"All the world's a stage, etc." Man's life has btMjn eomi>ared to changing
seixsons by numberless poets.

shuts the scene, i.e., the curtain of death falls.

1037. veering. -Like a weather-o<x;k with the wind.

10.38. The meaning is a little obscure, but the iioet probably refers to
the thousand schemes and plans for action that remain unaccomplished.

1039. *' Virtue ahme is happin(;ss telow." — Pope.

1042-5. See Rev. xxi. 1-4.

1052. now. — After viewing the works of God, as shown in the seasons.

1055. Acts viii. 23.

\n in the seasons.

WINTKR.

13"

'(s\ most of our

lOoS. low thoughts.— Luxury lolliuj,' in Liisi'jiiid pli'my. still craving
for ni<»rc' and keener ]tliysieal (low) enjoyment.

KXtl. liconsed pain. — Licensed calling's like li(|iior-.s» lliii^,' ;ind slave
holding, which have great evils conne^^tod with them. Thomson hiul no sucli
sjxeial reference here.

10<»7. What s<jeined evil t-o the earthly eye, unknowing of the (ireat
Architect's i>lan, is now seen to be no evil, but tmly a hitherto niisunder-
stoiKl part of one harmonious whole.

■■*-L