THE 
 
 SEASONS THOMSON. 

 
 The Seasons 
 
 Jamesl Thomson 
 
 With the Original Steel Engravings from the 
 designs of Richard Westall, K.A. 
 
 New York 
 Frederick A. Stokes & Brother 
 
 MDCCCLXXXIX
 
 Library 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Spring, 
 
 Summer, 
 
 Autumn, 
 
 Winter, 
 
 Hymn, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 124 
 
 l73 
 211
 
 THE subject proposed. Inscribed to the Countess of Hartford. 
 The Season is described as it affects the various jmrts of 
 Nature, ascending from the lower to the higher ; with di- 
 gressions arising from the subject. Its influence on inanimate 
 Matter, on Vegetables, on brute Animals, and last, on Man ; 
 concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular 
 passion of Love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind.
 
 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 WHEN the Author of the SEASONS came to London 
 in pursuit of patronage and fame, his first want, his 
 biographer informs us, was a pair of shoes. " For the 
 supply of all his necessities, his whole fund was his 
 " Winter," which for a time could find no purchaser ; 
 till, at last, Mr. Millar, a bookseller in the Strand, 
 was persuaded to buy it at a low price ; and this low 
 price he had for some time reason to regret." We are 
 not informed what estimate Thomson himself had 
 formed of his production : whether with self -supported 
 confidence he anticipated the reception it would even- 
 tually meet with from the public, or whether he was 
 satisfied to dispose of his unproductive treasure for a 
 sum that provided for the wants of the moment as 
 he would have disposed of a precious stone of uncertain 
 value to the first lapidary who would set a price upon 
 it. In his most sanguine and ambitious moments he 
 could not have ventured to hope, that the poem would 
 ultimately not only amply reward its purchaser, but 
 take its rank among productions which are considered 
 as eras in our literature, and become identified with 
 the language. 
 
 The SEASONS is one of those rare and original 
 productions, in which, at distant intervals in the pro- 
 gress of literature, genius appears to burst forth in 
 distinct individuality of character, in spite, it may be, 
 A 
 
 1326456
 
 6 THE SEASONS. 
 
 of the bad taste or prevailing mediocrity of the period. 
 There is in the human frame a perfect but indefinable 
 correspondence which extends to every joint, to the 
 very hair of the head : the artificial violation of this 
 liarmony is immediately perceptible. Something of 
 this kind exists with respect to the productions of 
 real genius. As models, they will be found exceed- 
 ingly defective. They would mislead as much as they 
 defy imitation. But there is in them, as a whole, a 
 certain homogeneousness of expression which rescues 
 even their faults from impropriety. They please or 
 affect us, not so much by particular qualities of excel- 
 lence as by the force of character diffused through the 
 production, and by that Promethean power which the 
 poet appears to possess of making his words glow and 
 breathe with instinctive life. Milton and Thomson, 
 although immeasurably dissimilar, may yet be adduced 
 as two remarkable instances of poets whose chief 
 works have attained an almost equal degree of popu- 
 larity, and have produced a powerful effect on our 
 literature ; and yet, in point of style and diction they 
 elude all attempts at successful imitation : the one 
 by a severe majesty of manner which ill befits an 
 inferior subject, or the productions of an inferior 
 mind ; the other, the Johnson of poetry, has a gait 
 of natural pomp, which it is mimicry to adopt ; 
 the moment it appears to be artificial it becomes 
 ridiculous. 
 
 The causes which have contributed to the universal 
 popularity of this original poem are, we do not scruple 
 to say, not more its Merits, than its Subject and its 
 Defect*. Uow much is due to the Subject might be
 
 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS. 7 
 
 presumed from the circumstance that this alone of 
 Thomson's poems has maintained itself in public 
 favour, although, in the opinion of competent critics, 
 it is not his best. Few titles have been found less 
 attractive than "The Poetical Works of James 
 Thomson," at the very time that his SEASONS are 
 circulating in every form the press can give them, 
 Dr. Johnson's sentence upon LIBERTY and BRITANNIA 
 has never been reversed (for once, as a critic, he was 
 just) ; aiid even " The Castle of Indolence " is more 
 praised than read. Thomson's subject was a happy 
 one ; but what rendered it particularly so was, that 
 when he wrote it was a subject altogether open to a 
 poet who wished to succeed by novelty. Spenser was 
 obsolete ; Milton had been generallyneglected ; Addison 
 having then only recently done himself the honour of 
 introducing the Paradise Lost to the notice of the public. 
 With these great exceptions, there existed little descrip- 
 tive poetry worthy of the name. The principal use 
 which had been made of natural scenery was as an 
 eternal storehouse of similies for the inditers of heroics, 
 or of love elegies and madrigals. The absurdities of 
 many of our town-bred or scholastic verse-men, in what 
 then passed for descriptive poetry, form a standing 
 subject of ridicule. In vain shall we look among the 
 works of the best of our poets, from the time of 
 Elizabeth to this period, for any traces of accurate 
 observation or genuine feeling in reference to the 
 beauties of Nature. " From Dryden to Thomson," a 
 very competent authority has remarked, " there is 
 scarcely a rural image drawn from life to be found in 
 any of the English poets except Gay." Pope, who in 
 
 A2
 
 THE 8KASONS. 
 
 his "Windsor Forest" seemed to have taken Denham as 
 his model, as if ambitious of excelling in descriptive 
 poetry, discovers much of the same French taste, the 
 same want of native and appropriate feeling, which 
 are chargeable on his predecessors. A poet then hud 
 only to copy the every-day beauties of nature, in the 
 anguage of a genuine lover of nature, to be original. 
 Thomson, partly from early habits, partly perhaps 
 from accident, struck into this path. In his schoolboy 
 days, with Virgil in his haud, he walked abroad, amid 
 scenes sufficient to awaken all the enthusiasm he pos- 
 sessed, which was that of an artist. He saw, as 
 Johnson remarks, everything with the eye, though 
 he does not appear to have felt everything with the 
 heart of a poet. His subject was a fortunate choice. 
 It admitted of being treated in that desultory manner 
 which best suited the character of his mind. There 
 was abundant scope for all the ditfuseness of senti- 
 mental description, and for all the gorgeousness of 
 colouring. Throughout the SEASONS it is to the 
 senses, however, rather than to the heart, that the 
 appeal is made. It is as much a painting as a poem. 
 
 As, when Thomson published his " Winter," the 
 subject had the advantage of novelty ; so the SEASONS 
 still preserves its rank as the first descriptive poem in 
 the language. It is one among our earliest favourites 
 which serve to awaken a sensibility to the beauties of ex- 
 ternal nature. We read it with avidity,and perhapswith 
 enthusiasm, at the period when our imagination first 
 l-.'-ins to exercise itself on the objects of poetry ; and 
 it retains much of its interest in after life, from brin^ 
 with the scenes of our youthful pleasures.
 
 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS. 9 
 
 When we attribute the popularity which this poem 
 has obtained, in some degree to its Defects, we allude 
 not only to the faults of the style, but to the very 
 cast of thought, and the intellectual quality of the 
 sentiments, by which the poem is characterised. A 
 contemporary critic has remarked that, "There are 
 few minds in which the love of poetry does not form 
 a sort of intellectual instinct ; an instinct often blind 
 and indiscriminating, yet having reference to some- 
 thing nobler than the wants of the physical being, and 
 valuable as connected with the first development of 
 the imagination and passions. The poetry which aims 
 at popularity must be adapted to that numerous class 
 of readers in whom this instinctive feeling exists, but 
 who have stopped short at a very low degree of 
 mental cultivation, or whose imagination has been 
 neglected amid the pursuits of after life." There is 
 nothing in Thomson that requires any painfvil exercise 
 in the faculties, that calls for any of the higher exer- 
 tions of the imagination, or that soars beyond the 
 experience of the humblest intellect. His style is 
 indeed learned and ornate. But Burke has shown that 
 words may the most powerfully affect the mind when 
 their meaning is indefinite. Where Thomson's language 
 is the most inflated, his expressions have generally a 
 specious grandeur of meaning derived from the felicity 
 with which they are selected. His genius is in this 
 respect conspicuous : like the evening sun, which im- 
 parts pomp and brightness to the unsubstantial clouds 
 with which it is enveloped, it changes the very char- 
 acter of the faults which it appropriates. 
 
 The greatest defect in the SEASONS respects the cast
 
 10 THE SEASONS. 
 
 of its moral sentiments ; but iu this respect it is not 
 the less adapted to the more numerous class of the 
 readers of poetry. The Religion of the SEASONS is of 
 that general kind which Nature's self might teach to 
 those who had no knowledge of the God of Revelation. 
 It is a lofty and complacent sentiment, which plays 
 upon the feelings like the ineffable power of solemn 
 harmony, but has no reference to the quality of our 
 belief, to the dispositions of the heart, or to the 
 habitual tendency of the character ; still less does it 
 involve a devotional recognition of the revealed char- 
 acter of the Divine Being. But on this very account 
 the SEASONS was adapted to please at the time that 
 Pope ruled the republic of taste, and to the same 
 cause the poem is still indebted for at least some of 
 its admirers. 
 
 The love of the poet of the SEASONS is the " Passion 
 of the Groves." The author, it in said, was su- 
 'cptible of no higher sentiment. There is a prevailing 
 vulgarity of feeling on this subject which is only 
 concealed by the splendour of the diction. The poet's 
 ideas of love are such as a schoolboy would naturally 
 <| t rive from the perusal of the Pantheon and Ovid * 
 Mi tamorphoses. We know we shall offend common 
 prejudice in pronouncing the tale of Musidora, which 
 has furnished so many artists with a subject, and the 
 publishers of so many editions of Thomson with a 
 captivating embellishment, to be as vulgarly con- 
 ceived, and to be as coarse in sentiment, though not 
 in rxpivswinn, as a Dutch painting. But still Tlmm- 
 .-11 is chastity and purity itself in comparison with 
 ii temporaries. Then- ix always an air of elegance
 
 CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS. 11 
 
 and even of refinement thrown over his warmest pic- 
 tures. The SEASONS, though they may administer fuel 
 to an excited imagination, contain scarcely an expres- 
 sion that would raise the blush of modesty. This 
 decorum of expression extends also in general to his 
 ideas ; and he is not perhaps to be blamed if these do 
 not rise, in point of elevation of sentiment, above 
 the level of his experience. 
 
 We are indebted, however, to Thomson for one 
 passage on domestic happiness, at the conclusion of 
 his " Spring," which does high credit to his feelings 
 as a man and as a poet. Thomson never loved ; 
 but he was not an unamiable character. He was an 
 affectionate brother : his benevolence, though it par- 
 took of the indolence of his character, was fervid ; and 
 by his friends, we are told, he was very tenderly and 
 warmly beloved. 
 
 It is unnecessary to dwell on the beauties or merits 
 of his great poem. Johnson has remarked that " his 
 mode of thinking and of expressing his thoughts is 
 original." This is no small praise. His descriptions, 
 varying and rising with his subject, are at times mag- 
 nificent ; at other times they display all the minute 
 accuracy only to be obtained by familiar observation. 
 No one but an angler could have described with so 
 felicitous correctness the fly-fisher's sport in the first 
 Season. There breathes throughout his poem the 
 enthusiasm of the poet of nature ; and if we cannot 
 allow that the reader of the SEASONS " wonders that 
 he never saw before what Thomson shows him," unless 
 it be a reader unaccustomed to hold converse with the 
 beautiful in the material world, yet he derives a high
 
 12 THE SEASONS. 
 
 and more genuine gratification in finding the scenes 
 he loves described so well. 
 
 James Thomson was born at Ednam, in the shire of 
 Roxburg, in 1700. " Winter" was published in 1726 ; 
 "Summer" and "Spring" in the following years ; and 
 " Autumn," with his collected works, in 1730. The 
 incidents of his life consisted of the patronage he suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining, and the disappointments he had 
 to encounter. His mother lived to see her son rising 
 into eminence. Through the friendship of Lord Lyt- 
 tleton, he was established in case, if not in affluence, 
 when, taking cold on the water between London and 
 Kew, he caught a disorder, which, with some cart-loss 
 exasperation, terminated fatally, August 27, 1748. A 
 tablet has been recently placed on the wall of Rich- 
 mond church, by the exertions of Mr. Park, in con- 
 junction with Lord Buclian, to denote the place of 1m 
 interment
 
 TO THE SHADE OF THOMSON. 
 
 OX CROWNING HIS BUST WITH BAYS. 
 
 WHILE virgin Spring, by Eden's flood, 
 Unfolds her tender mantle green, 
 
 Or pranks the sod in frolic mood, 
 Or tunes Eolian strains between : 
 
 While Summer with a matron grace 
 Eetreats to Dryburgh's cooling shade, 
 
 Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace 
 The progress of the spiky blade : 
 
 While Autumn, benefactor kind, 
 
 By Tweed erects his aged head, 
 And sees, with self -approv ing mind, 
 
 Each creature on his bounty fed : 
 
 While maniac Winter rages o'er 
 The hills whence classic Yarrow flows 
 
 Rousing the turbid torrent's roar, 
 Or sweeping, wild, a waste of snows : 
 
 So long, sweet poet of the year ! 
 
 Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won ; 
 While Scotia, with exulting tear, 
 
 Proclaims that THOMSON was her son. 
 
 BURNS.
 
 togrtho In i! 
 
 Th ""-"^g devi.oid gathrr in ihnr pnmr 
 Trrsh M~^"^ fkwrri.to grarr thv In .min! lull 
 
 SPRING 
 
 WKNTM.I.H A RX(HOIVKI> BT CHAKI.K.S M01.I.N
 
 THE SEASONS. 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 COME, gentle SPRING, ethereal Mildness, come, 
 And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,' 
 While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower 
 Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend. 
 
 O Hartford, fitted or to shine in courts 
 With unaffected grace, or walk the plain 
 With innocence and meditation join'd 
 In soft assemblage, listen to my song, 
 Which thy own Season paints ; when Nature all 
 Is blooming and benevolent, like thee. 
 
 And see where surly WINTER passes off, 
 Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts : 
 His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, 
 The shattered forest, and the ravag'd vale ; 
 
 While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, 
 B
 
 18 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost, 
 
 The mountains lift their green heads to the sky. 
 
 As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd, 
 And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze, 
 Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets 
 Deform the day delightless ; so that scarce 
 The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulft 
 To shake the sounding marsh : or from the shore 
 The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath, 
 And sing their wild notes to the listening waste. 
 
 At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun, 
 And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more 
 Tli' expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold ; 
 But, full of life and vivifying soul, 
 Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin, 
 Fleecy and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven. 
 
 Forth fly the tepid airs ; and unconfin'd, 
 Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays. 
 Joyous, tli' impat ifiit husbandman perceives 
 Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers 
 Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us'd plough 
 Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost. 
 There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke 
 They leml tlu-ir shoulder, and begin their toil, 
 Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark. 
 Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share 
 The master leans, removes th' obstructing clay, 
 Winds tho whole work, and sidelong lays the gl-l>-. 
 
 Wliil.- thru 1 tin- n-i^hl('riii;,' (it-Ms tin- -oiwrr stalks.
 
 SPRING. 19 
 
 With measur'd step ; and liberal throws the grain 
 
 Into the faithful bosom of the ground : 
 
 The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene. 
 
 Be gracious, Heav'n ! for now laborious man 
 Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow ; 
 Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend ; 
 And temper all, thou world-reviving sun, 
 Into the perfect year ! Nor ye who live 
 In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride, 
 Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear : 
 Such themes as these the rural Maro sung 
 To wide-imperial Eome, in the full height 
 Of elegance and taste, by Greece refin'd. 
 In ancient times, the sacred p'ough employ'd 
 The kings, and awful fathers of mankind : 
 And some, with whom compar'd your insect-tribes 
 Are but the beings of a summer's day, 
 Have held the scale of empire, rul'd the storm 
 Of mighty war ; then, with unwearied hand, 
 Disdaining little delicacies, seiz'd 
 The plough, and greatly independent liv'd. 
 
 Ye generous Britons, venerate the plough !\ 
 And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales, 
 Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun, 
 Luxuriant and unbounded : as the sea, 
 Far through his azure turbulent domain, 
 Your empire owns, and from a thousand shores 
 Wafts all the*pomp of life into your ports ; 
 So with superior boon may your rich soil,
 
 20 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Exuberant, Nature's better blessings pour 
 O'er every land, the naked nations clothe, 
 And be the exhaustless granary of a world ! 
 
 Nor only through the lenient air this change, 
 Delicious, breathes ; the penetrative sun, 
 His force deep-darting to the dark retreat 
 Of vegetation, sets the steaming Power 
 At large, to wander o'er the verdant earth, 
 In various hues ; but chiefly thee, gay green ! 
 Thou smiling Nature's universal robe ! 
 United light and shade ! where the sight dwells 
 With growing strength, and ever new delight. 
 
 From the moist meadow to the withered hill, 
 Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs, 
 And swells, and deepens, to the cherish'd eye. 
 The hawthorn whitens ; and the j nicy groves 
 Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, 
 Till the whole leafy forest stands display'd, 
 In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales ; 
 Where the deer rustle through the twining brake, 
 And the birds sing conceal'd. At once array'd 
 In all the colours of the flushing year. 
 By Nature's swift and secret working hand 
 The garden glows, and fills the liberal air 
 With lavish fragrance ; while the promis'd fruit 
 Lies yet a little embryo, unperceiv'd, 
 Within ila crimson folds. Now from the town 
 Huried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, 
 Oft li-t me wander o'er the dewy fields-
 
 I 
 
 SPRING. 21 
 
 Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops 
 
 From the bent bush, as through the verdant maze 
 
 Of sweetbriar hedges I pursue my walk ; 
 
 Or taste the smell of dairy ; or ascend 
 
 Some eminence, Augusta, in thy plains, 
 
 And see the country far diffus'd around, 
 
 One boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower 
 
 Of mingled blossoms ; where the raptur'd eye 
 
 Hurries from joy to joy, and, hid beneath 
 
 The fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies : 
 
 If, brushed from Russian wilds, a cutting gale 
 Rise not, and scatter from his humid wings 
 The clammy mildew ; or, dry-blowing, breathe 
 Untimely frost ; before whose baleful blast 
 The full-blown Spring through all her foliage shrinks 
 Joyless and dead, a wide-dejected waste. 
 For oft engender^ by the hazy north, 
 Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp 
 Keen in the poison'd breeze ; and wasteful eat 
 Through buds and bark, into the blacken'd core, 
 Their eager way. A feeble race ! yet oft 
 The sacred sons of vengeance ; on whose course 
 Corrosive Famine waits, and kills the year. 
 To check this plague, the skilful farmer chaff 
 And blazing straw before his orchard burns ; 
 Till, all involved in smoke, the latent foe 
 From every cranny suffocated falls : 
 Or scatters o'er the blooms the pungent dust 
 Of pepper, fatal to the frosty tribe :
 
 22 TMK SEASONS. 
 
 Or, when th' envenoiu'd leaf begins to curl, 
 With sprinkled water drowns them in their nest ; 
 Nor, while they pick them up with busy bill, 
 The little trooping birds unwisely scares. 
 
 Be patient, swains ; these cruel-seeming winds 
 Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep repress'd 
 Those deep'uing clouds on clouds, surcharg'd with rain, 
 That o'er the vast Atlantic hither borue, 
 In endless train, would quench the summer blaze, 
 And, cheerless, drown the crude uuripen'd year. 
 
 The north-east spends his rage ; he now shut up 
 Within his iron cave, th' effusive south 
 Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven 
 Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers . list rut . 
 At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise, 
 Scarce staining ether ; but by swift degrees, 
 In lira | is on heaps, the doubling vapour sails 
 Along the loaded sky, and mingling deep 
 Sits on th' horizon round a settled gloom : 
 Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed, 
 Oppressing life ; but lovely, gcutle, kind, 
 And full of every hope and every joy, 
 The wish of Nature. Gradual sinks t In- IM. .-/> 
 Into a perfect calm ; that not a breath 
 Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, 
 Or rustling turn the many twinkling leaves 
 ( >f AM pin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus d 
 In glassy breadth, HCCIII through delusive lap.-*- 
 Forgetful of their course. Tis silt-nee all.
 
 SPRING. 23 
 
 And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks 
 
 Drop the dry sprig, and mute- imploring eye 
 
 The falling verdure. Hush'd in short suspense, 
 
 The plumy people streak their wings with oil, 
 
 To throw the lucid moisture trickling off : 
 
 And wait th' approaching sign to strike, at once, 
 
 Into the general choir. Even mountains, vales, 
 
 And forests seem impatient to demand 
 
 The promis'd sweetness. Man superior walks 
 
 Amid the glad creation, musing praise, 
 
 And looking lively gratitude. At last, 
 
 The clouds consign their treasures to the fields ; 
 
 And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool 
 
 Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, 
 
 In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world. 
 
 The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard, 
 
 By such as wander through the forest walks, 
 
 Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves. 
 
 But who can hold the shade while Heaven descends 
 
 In universal bounty, shedding herbs, 
 
 And fruits and flowers, on Nature's ample lap ? 
 
 Swift fancy fiVd anticipates their growth ; 
 
 And while the milky nutriment distils, 
 
 Beholds the kindling country colour round. 
 
 Thus all day long the full-distended clojjds 
 Indulge their genial stores, and well-shower'd earth 
 Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life ; 
 Till, in the western sky, the downward sun 
 Looks out effulgent from amid the flush
 
 24 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Of broken clouds, gay -shifting to his beam. 
 
 The i-apid radiance instantaneous strikes 
 
 Th' i 1 1 uiuiiiM mountain, through the forest, streams, 
 
 Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist , 
 
 Far smoking o'er th' interminable plain, 
 
 In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. 
 
 Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around. 
 
 Full swell the woods ; their very music wakes, 
 
 Mix'd in wild concert with the warbling brooks 
 
 Increas'd, the distant bleatings of the hills, 
 
 And hollow lows responsive from the vales, 
 
 Whence blending all the sweeten'd zephyr springs. 
 
 Meantime, refracted from yon eastern cloud, 
 
 Bestriding earth, the grand ethereal bow 
 
 Shoots up immense ; and every hue unfolds, 
 
 In fair proportion running from the red, 
 
 To where the violet fades into the sky. 
 
 Here, awful Newton, the dissolving clouds 
 
 Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery pritmi ; 
 
 And to the sage-instructed eye unfold 
 
 The various twine of light, by thee discloa'd 
 
 From the white mingling maze. Not so the boy ; 
 
 lie wondering views the bright enchantment Win I, 
 
 Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs 
 
 To catch the falling glory ; but amaz'd 
 
 Beholds th' amusive arch before him fly, 
 
 Then vanish quite away. Still night succ-ccds, 
 
 A softf n'd Hhade, and saturated earth 
 
 A wait* the morning beam to give to light,
 
 SPRING. 25 
 
 Rais'd through ten thousand different plastic tubes, 
 The balmy treasures of the former day. 
 
 Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild, 
 O'er all the deep-green earth, beyond the power 
 Of botanists to number up their tribes : 
 Whether he steals along the lonely dale, 
 In silent search ; or through the forest, rank 
 With what the dull incurious weeds account, 
 Bursts his blind way ; or climbs the mountain rock, 
 Fir'd by the nodding verdure of its brow. 
 With such a liberal hand has Nature flung 
 Their seeds abroad, blown them about in winds, 
 Innumerous mix'd them with the nursing mould, 
 The moistening current, and prolific rain. 
 
 But who their virtues can declare ? who pierce, 
 With vision pure, into these secret stores 
 Of health, and life, and joy ? the food of Man, 
 While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told 
 A length of golden years ; unflesh'd in blood, 
 A stranger to the savage arts of life, 
 Death, rapine, carnage, surfeit, and disease ; 
 The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world. 
 
 The first fresh dawn then wak'd the gladden'd race 
 Of uncorrupted Man, nor blush'd to see 
 The sluggard sleep beneath its sacred beam ; 
 For their light slumbers gently fum'd away ; 
 And up they rose as vigorous as the sun, 
 Or to the culture of the willing glebe, 
 Or to the cheerful tendance of the flock.
 
 26 THE SBASONS. 
 
 Meantime the soug went round ; and dance and sport, 
 
 Wisdom and friendly talk, successive, stole 
 
 Their hours away : while in the rosy vale 
 
 Love breath'd his infant sighs, from anguish free, 
 
 And full replete with bliss ; save the sweet pain, 
 
 That inly thrilling, but exalts it more. 
 
 Not yet injurious act, nor surly deed, 
 
 Was known among those happy sons of heaven ; 
 
 For reason and benevolence were law. 
 
 Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on. 
 
 Clear shone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales, 
 
 And balmy spirit all. The youthful sun 
 
 Shot his best rays, and still the gracious clouds 
 
 Drop'd fatness down ; as o'er the swelling mead, 
 
 The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure. 
 
 This when, emergent from the gloomy wood, 
 
 The glaring lion saw, his horrid heart 
 
 Was meeken'd, and he join'd his sullen joy. 
 
 For music held the whole in perfect peace : 
 
 Soft sigh'd the flute ; the tender voice was heard, 
 
 Warbling the varied heart ; the woodlands round 
 
 Applied their quire ; and winds and waters flow'd 
 
 In consonance. Such were those prime of days. 
 
 But now those white unblemish'd manners, whence 
 The fabling poets took their golden age, 
 Are found no more amid these iron times. 
 Tin-,.- iliv-s .if life : ii..\v tin- (li>t<-mpri-'il nun. I 
 Han lost that concord of harmonious jMjwers, 
 Which foriiiM tin- soul of li.ippiiu ss ; and all
 
 SPRING. 27 
 
 Is off the poise within : the passions all 
 
 Have burst their bounds ; and reason half extinct, 
 
 Or impotent, or else approving, sees 
 
 The foul disorder. Senseless, and deform'd, 
 
 Convulsive anger storms at large ; or pale, 
 
 And silent, settles into fell revenge. 
 
 Base envy withers at another's joy, 
 
 And hates that excellence it cannot reach. 
 
 Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full, 
 
 Weak and unmanly, loosens every power. 
 
 Ev'n love itself is bitterness of soiil, 
 
 A pensive anguish pining at the heart ; 
 
 Or, sunk to sordid interest, feels no more 
 
 That noble wish, that never cloy'd desire, 
 
 Which, selfish joy disdaining, seeks alone 
 
 To bless the dearer object of its flame. 
 
 Hope sickens with extravagance ; and grief, 
 
 Of life impatient, into madness swells ; 
 
 Or in dead silence wastes the weeping hours. 
 
 These, and a thousand mixt emotions more, 
 
 From ever-changing views of good and ill, 
 
 Form'd infinitely various, vex the mind 
 
 With endless storm : whence, deeply rankling, grows 
 
 The partial thought, a listless unconcern, 
 
 Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good ; 
 
 Then dark disgust, and hatred, winding wiles, 
 
 Coward deceit, and ruffian violence : 
 
 At last, extinct each social feeling, fell 
 
 And joyless inhumanity pervades
 
 2 s THE SEASONS. 
 
 Aud petrifies the heart. Nature disturb'd 
 
 Is deeni'd, vindictive, to have chang'd her course. 
 
 Hence, in old dusky time, a deluge came : 
 When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arch'd 
 The central waters round, impetuous rush'd, 
 With universal burst, into the gulf, 
 And o'er the high-pil'd hills of fractur'd earth 
 Wide dash'd the waves, in undulation vast ; 
 Till, from the centre to the streaming clouds, 
 A shoreless ocean tumbled round the globe. 
 
 The Seasons since have, with severer sway, 
 Oppress'd a broken world : the Winter keen 
 Shook forth his waste of snows ; and Sumiuer shot 
 His pestilential heats. Great Spring, before, 
 Green'd all the year ; and fruits and blossoms blush 'd, 
 In social sweetness, on the self-same bough. 
 Pure was the temperate air ; an even calm 
 Perpetual reign'd, save what the zephyrs bland 
 Hreath'd o'er the blue expanse : for then nor storms 
 Were taught to blow, nor hurricanes to rage ; 
 Sound slept the waters ; no sulphureous glooms 
 Swell'd in the sky, and sent the lightning forth ; 
 While sickly damps, and cold autumnal fojjs, 
 Hung not, relaxing, on the springs of life. 
 But now, of turbid elements the sport, 
 From clear to cloudy tost, from hot to cold, 
 And dry to umi.st, with inward-eating change, 
 Our ill-imping davH are dwindled down to nought, 
 Their jMjriod finih'd ere 'tis \vi-ll Wgun.
 
 SPRING. 29 
 
 And yet the wholesome herb neglected dies ; 
 Though with the pure exhilarating soul 
 Of nutriment and health, and vital powers, 
 Beyond the search of art, 'tis copious blest. 
 For, with hot ravine fir'd, ensanguin'd Man 
 Is now become the lion of the plain, 
 And worse. The wolf, who from the nightly fold 
 Fierce drags the bleating prey, ne'er drunk her milk, 
 Nor wore her warming fleece : nor has the steer, 
 At whose strong chest the deadly tiger hangs, 
 E'er plough'd for him. They too are temper'd high, 
 With hunger stung and wild necessity, 
 Nor lodges pity in their shaggy breast. 
 But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay, 
 With every kind emotion in his heart, 
 And taught alone to weep ; while from her lap 
 She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs, 
 And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain 
 Or beams that gave them birth : shall he, fair form ! 
 Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on heaven, 
 E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, 
 And dip his tongue in gore ? the beast of prey, 
 Blood stain'd, deserves to bleed : but you, ye flocks, 
 What have you done ; ye peaceful people, what, 
 To merit death ? you, who have given us milk 
 In luscious streams, and lent us your own coat 
 Against the winter's cold ? and the plain ox, 
 That harmless, honest, guileless animal, 
 In what has he offended ? he, whose toil,
 
 30 THB SEASONS. 
 
 Patient and ever ready, clothes the land 
 With all the pomp of harvest ; shall he bleed, 
 And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands 
 Even of the clown he feeds ? and that, perhaps, 
 To swell the riot of th" autumnal feast, 
 Won by his labour ? thus the feeling heart 
 Would tenderly suggest : but 'tis enough, 
 In this kite age, adventurous, to have touch'd 
 Light on the numbers of the Saniian sage. 
 High Heaven forbids the bold presumptuous s! rain, 
 Whose wisest will has fix'd us in a state 
 That must not yet to pure perfection rise. 
 
 Now when the first foul torrent of the brooks, 
 Swell'd with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away, 
 And, whitening, down their mossy-tinctur'd stream 
 Descends the billowy foam : now is the time, 
 While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, 
 To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly, 
 The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring, 
 Snatch'd from the hoary steed the floating line, 
 And all thy slender wat'ry stores prepare. 
 But let not on thy hook the tortur'd worm, 
 Convulsive, twist in agonizing folda ; 
 Which, by rapacious hunger swallow'd deep, 
 Gives, as you tear it from the blrivlinjj breast 
 Of the weak, helpless, uncomplaining wretch, 
 Har*h jaiii and horror to the tender hand. 
 
 Wht-n with hi* livrly ray the )x>tent sun 
 Has pierc'd the stream--, :nnl nmsM tin- (inn\
 
 SPRING. 31 
 
 Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair ; 
 
 Chief should the western breezes curling play, 
 
 And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds. 
 
 High to their fount, this day, amid the hills, 
 
 And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks ; 
 
 The next, pursue their rocky-channell'd maze, 
 
 Down to the river, in whose ample wave 
 
 Their little naiads love to sport at large. 
 
 Just in the dubious point, where with the pool 
 
 Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils 
 
 Around the stone, or from the hallow'd bank 
 
 Reverted plays in undulating flow, 
 
 There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly ; 
 
 And as you lead it round in artful curve, 
 
 With eye attentive mark the springing game. 
 
 Straight as above the surface of the flood 
 
 They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger leap, 
 
 Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook : 
 
 Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, 
 
 A nd to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, 
 
 With various hand proportion'd to their force. 
 
 If yet too young, and easily deceiv'd, 
 
 A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod, 
 
 Him, piteous of his youth and the short space 
 
 He has enjoy'd the vital light of heaven, 
 
 Soft disengage, and back into the stream 
 
 The speckled captive throw. But should you lure 
 
 From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots 
 
 Of pendent trees, the monarch of the brook,
 
 32 THE. SEASONS. 
 
 Behoves you then to ply your finest art. 
 Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly ; 
 And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft 
 The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. 
 At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun 
 Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death, 
 With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, 
 Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthened line ; 
 Then seeks the furthest oozef the sheltering weed, 
 ^The cavern'd bank, his old secxire abode ; 
 And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool, 
 Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, 
 That feels him still, yet to his furious course 
 Gives way, you, now retiring, following now 
 Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage : 
 Till floating broad upon his breathless side, 
 And to his fate abandou'd, to the shore 
 You gaily drag your unresisting prize. 
 
 Thus pass the temperate hours ; but when the sun 
 Shakes from his noonday throne the scattering clouds, 
 Even shooting listless languor through the deeps ; 
 Then seek the bank where flowering elders crowd, 
 Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale 
 Ite balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang 
 The dewy head, where purple violets lurk, 
 With all the lowly children of the shade : 
 Or lie rc'clin'd beneath yon spreading ash, 
 Hung o'er the steep; whence, borne on liquid wing, 
 The wnindiiiir i-ulvcr slutotfl ; or whrrr tin- hawk.
 
 SPRING. 33 
 
 High, in the beetling cliff, his eyry builds. 
 
 There let the classic page thy fancy lead 
 
 Through rural scenes ; such as the Mantuau swain, 
 
 Paints in the matchless harmony of song. 
 
 Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift 
 
 Athwart imagination's vivid eye : 
 
 Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd, 
 
 And lost in lonely musing, in the dream. 
 
 Confus'd, of careless solitude, where mix 
 
 Ten thousand wandering images of things, 
 
 Soothe every gust of passion into peace ; 
 
 All but the swellings of the soften'd heart, 
 
 That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. 
 
 Behold yon breathing prospect bids the Muse 
 Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint 
 Like Nature ? Can imagination boast, 1 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? \ 
 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
 And lose them in each other, as appears 
 In every bud that blows ? If fancy then 
 Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task, 
 
 Ah. what shall language do ? Ah, where find words 
 
 ~ ' * _^ _ 
 Ting'd with so many colours ; and whose power, 
 
 To life approaching, may perfume my lays 
 With that fine oil, those aromatic gales, 
 That inexhaustive flow continual round ? 
 
 Yet, though successless, will the toil delight. 
 Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts 
 Have felt the raptures of refining love ;
 
 34 THE SEASONS. 
 
 And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song ! 
 Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself ! 
 Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, 
 Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul 
 Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd, 
 Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart : 
 Oh, come ! and while the rosy -footed May 
 Steals blushing on, together let us tread 
 The morning dews, and gather in their prime 
 Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair, 
 And thy lov'd bosom that improves their sweets. 
 _See, where the winding vale its lavish stores, 
 Irriguous, spreads. See, how the lily drinks 
 The latent rill, scarce oozing through the grass, 
 Of growth luxuriant ; or the humid bank, 
 In fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, 
 Where the breeze blows from yon extended field 
 Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast 
 A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence 
 Breathes through the sense, and takes the ravish'd soul. 
 Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot, 
 Full of fresh verdure, and unnumber'd flowers, 
 The negligence of Nature, wide, and wild ; 
 Where, undisguis'd by mimic Art, she spreads 
 Unbounded beauty to the roving eye. 
 Here their delicious task the fervent bees, 
 Ik swarming millions, tend : around, athwart, 
 Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, 
 Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube,
 
 SPRING. 35 
 
 Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul ; 
 And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare 
 The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, 
 And yellow load them with the luscious spoil. 
 
 At length the finisli'd garden to the view 
 Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. 
 Snatch'd through the verdant maze, the hurried eye 
 Distracted wanders ; now the i>owery walk 
 Of covert close, where scarce a speck of day 
 Falls on the lengthen'd gloom, protracted sweeps : 
 Now meets the bending sky ; the river now 
 Dimpling along, the breezy ruffled lake, 
 The forest darkening round, the glittering spire 
 Th' ethereal mountain, and the distant main. 
 But why so far excursive ? when at hand, 
 Along these blushing borders, bright with dew, 
 And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, 
 Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace ; 
 Throws out the snowdrop, and the crocus first ; 
 The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, 
 And polyanthus of unnumber'd dyes ; 
 The yellow wall-flower stain'd with iron brown ; 
 And lavish stock that scents the garden round : 
 From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed, 
 Anemonies ; auriculas, enrich'd 
 With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves ; 
 And full ranunculas, of glowing red. 
 Then comes the tulip-race, where Beauty plays 
 Her idle freaks ; from family diffus'd
 
 36 THK SKA80NS. 
 
 To family, as flies the father-dust, 
 The varied colours run ; and, while they break 
 On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist marks, 
 With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. 
 No gradual bloom is wanting ; from the bud, 
 First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes : 
 Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, 
 Low-bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquilles, 
 Of potent fragrance ; nor narcissus fair, 
 As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still ; 
 Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks ; 
 Nor shower'd from every bush, the damask-rose 
 Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, 
 With hues on hues expression cannot paint, 
 The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom. 
 
 Hail, Source of Being ! Universal Soul 
 Of heaven and earth ! Essential Presence, hail ! 
 To Thee I bend the knee ; to Thee my thoughts, 
 Continual, climb ; who, with a master-hand, 
 Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd, 
 By Thee the various vegetative tribes, 
 Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves, 
 Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew : 
 By Tin -i- dispos'd into congenial soils, 
 Stands each attractive plant, and sucks, and swells 
 The juicy tide ; a twining mass of tubes. 
 At Thy command the vernal sun awakes 
 The torpid sap, detruded to the root 
 By wintry winds ; that now in fluent dance,
 
 SPRING. 37 
 
 And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads 
 All this innumerous-coloured scene of things. 
 
 As rising from the vegetable world 
 My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend, 
 My panting Muse ; and hark, how loud the woods 
 Invite you forth in all your gayest trim. 
 Lend me your song, ye nightingales ! oh, pour 
 The mazy-running soul of melody 
 Into my varied verse ! while I dedxice, 
 From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, 
 The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme 
 Unknown to fame, the Passion of the Groves. 
 
 'When first the soul of love is sent abroad, 
 Warm through the vital air, and on the heart 
 Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin, 
 In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing ; 
 And try again the long-forgotten strain, 
 At first faint-warbled. But no sooner grows 
 The soft infusion prevalent, and wide, 
 Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows 
 In music unconfin'd. Up-springs the lark, 
 Shrill-voic'd, and loud, the messenger of morn ; 
 Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings 
 Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 
 Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse 
 Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush 
 Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads 
 Of the coy quiristers that lodge within, 
 Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush
 
 38 THE SEASONS. 
 
 And woodlark, o'er the kind -contending throng 
 Superior heard, run through the sweetest length 
 Of notes ; when listening Philomela deigns 
 To let them joy, and purposes, in thought 
 Elate, to make her night excel their day. 
 The blackbird whistles from the thorny brake ; 
 The mellow- bullfinch answers from the grove : 
 Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze 
 Pour'd out profusely, silent. Join'd to these 
 Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade 
 Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix 
 Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw, 
 And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone, 
 Aid the full concert : while the stock-dove breathes 
 A melancholy murmur through the whole. 
 
 Tis love creates their melody, and all 
 This waste of music is the voice of love ; 
 Tli at even to birds, and beasts, the tender arts 
 ' Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind 
 Try every winning way inventive love 
 Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates 
 Pour forth their little souls. First, wide around, 
 With distant awe, in airy rings they rove, 
 Endeavouring by a thousand tricks to catch 
 The cunning, conscious, half-averted glance 
 Of the regardless charmer. Should she seem 
 Softening the least approvance to bestow, 
 Their colours burnish, and by hope inspir'd, 
 They brisk advance ; then, on a sudden struck,
 
 SPRING. 39 
 
 Eetire disordered ; then again approach ; 
 In fond rotation spread the spotted wing, 
 And shiver every feather with desire. 
 
 Connubial leagues agreed, to the deepjwoods 
 They haste away, all as their fancy leads, 
 Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts ; 
 That Nature's great command may be obey'd : 
 Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive 
 Indulg'd in vain. Some to the holly-hedge 
 Nestling repair, and to the thicket some ; 
 Some to the rude protection of the thorn 
 Commit their feeble offspring. The cleft tree 
 Offers its kind concealment to a few, 
 Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. 
 Others apart far in the grassy dale, 
 Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. 
 But most in woodland solitudes delight, 
 In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks, 
 Steep, and divided by a babbling brook, 
 Whose murmurs soothe them all the live-long day, 
 When by kind duty fix'd. Among the roots 
 Of hazel, pendent o'er the plaintive stream, 
 They frame the first foundation of their domes ; 
 Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid, 
 And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought 
 But restless hurry through the busy air, 
 Beat by unnumber'd wings. The swallow sweeps 
 The slimy pool, to build his hanging house 
 Intent. And often, from the careless back
 
 40 THK SEASONS. 
 
 Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills 
 Pluck hair and wool ; and oft, when unobserv'd, 
 Steal from the barn a straw : till soft and warm, 
 Clean and complete, their habitation grows. 
 
 As thus the patient dam assiduous sits, 
 Not to be tempted from her tender task, 
 Or by sharp hunger, or by smooth delight, 
 Though the whole loosen'd Spring around her blows, 
 Her sympathizing lover takes his stand 
 High on th' opponent bank, and ceaseless sings 
 The tedious time away ; or else supplies 
 Her place a moment, while she sudden flits 
 To pick the scanty meal. Th' appointed time 
 With pious toil fulfill'd, the callow young, 
 Warm'd and expanded into perfect life, 
 Their brittle bondage break, and come to light, 
 A helpless family, demanding food 
 With constant clamour : O what passions then, 
 What melting sentiments of kindly care, 
 On the new parents seize ! Away they fly 
 Affectionate, and undesiriug bear 
 The most delicious morsel to their young ; 
 Which equally distributed, again 
 The search begins. Ev'n so a gentle pair, 
 By fortune sunk, but form'd of generous mould, 
 And charm'd with cares beyond the vulgar breast 
 In some lone cot amid the distant woods, 
 Sustain'd alone by providential Heaven, 
 oft, as they wec|in c\c their infant train,
 
 SPRING. 41 
 
 Check their own appetites, and give them all. 
 
 Nor toil alone they acorn : exalting love, 
 By the great Father of the Spring inspir'd, 
 Gives instant courage to the fearful race, 
 And to the simple art. With stealthy wing, 
 Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest, 
 Amid a neighbouring bush they silent drop, 
 And whirring thence, as if alarm'd, deceive 
 Th' unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head 
 Of wandering swain, the white-wing'd plover wheels 
 Her sounding flight, and then directly on 
 In long excursion skims the level lawn, 
 To tempt him from her nest. The wild-duck, hence, 
 p'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless waste 
 JThe heath-hen flutters, pious fraud ! to lead 
 (The hot pursuing spaniel far astray. 
 
 Be not the Muse asham'd, here to bemoan 
 Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant Man 
 Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage 
 From liberty confin'd, and boundless air. 
 Dull are the pretty slaves, their plumage dull, 
 Bagged, and all its brightening lustre lost ; 
 Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes, 
 Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech. 
 O then, ye friends of love and love-taught song, 
 Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear ; 
 If on your bosom innocence can win, 
 Music engage, or piety persuade. 
 
 But let not chief the nightingale lament
 
 42 1 UK SEASONS. 
 
 Her ruin'd care, too delicately f rara'd 
 
 To brook the harsh confinement of the cage. 
 
 Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, 
 
 Tli' astonish'd mother finds a vacant nest, 
 
 By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns 
 
 Bobb'd, to the ground the vain provision falls ; 
 
 Her pinions ruffle, and low-drooping scarce 
 
 Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade ; 
 
 Where, all abaudon'd to despair, she sings 
 
 Her sorrows through the night ; and, on the bough, 
 
 Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall 
 
 Takes up again her lamentable strain 
 
 Of winding woe ; till, wide around, the woods 
 
 Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound. 
 
 But now the feather'd youth their former bounds, 
 Ardent, disdain ; and, weighing oft their wings, 
 Demand the free possession of the sky : 
 This one glad office more, and then dissolves 
 Parental love at once, now needless grown. 
 Unlavish Wisdom never works in vain. 
 Tis on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild, 
 When nought but balm is breathing through the woods, 
 With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes 
 Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad 
 On Nature's common, far as they can see, 
 Or wing, their range and pasture. O'er the boughs 
 Dancing about, still at the giddy verge 
 Their resolution fails ; their pinions still, 
 In loose libration stretch'd, to trust the void
 
 SPRING. 43 
 
 Trembling refuse : till down before them fly 
 The parent guides, and chide, exhort, command, 
 Or push them off. The surging air receives 
 Its plumy burden ; and their self-taught wings 
 Winnow the waving element. On ground 
 Alighted, bolder up again they lead, 
 Further and further on, the lengthening flight ; 
 Till vanish'd every fear, and every power 
 Bous'd into life and action, light in air 
 Th' acquitted parents see their soaring race, 
 And once rejoicing never know them more. 
 
 High from the summit of a craggy cliff, 
 Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns 
 On utmost Kilda's* shore, whose lonely race 
 Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds, 
 The royal eagle draws his vigorous young, 
 Strong pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire. 
 Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, 
 He drives them from his fort, the towering seat, 
 For ages, of his empire ; which, in peace, 
 Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to sea 
 He wings his course, and preys in distant isles, 
 
 Should I my steps turn to the rural seat, 
 Whose lofty elms, and venerable oaks, 
 Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs, 
 In early Spring, his airy city builds, 
 And ceaseless caws amusive ; there, well-pleas'd, 
 I iniyht the various polity survey 
 
 * The furthest of the western isles of Scotland.
 
 44 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Of the mixt household kind. The careful hen 
 
 Calls all her chirping family around, 
 
 Fed and defended by the fearless cock ; 
 
 Whose breast with ardour flames, as on he walks, 
 
 Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond, 
 
 The finely-checker'd duck, before her train, 
 
 Rows garrulous. The stately -sailing swan 
 
 Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale ; 
 
 And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet 
 
 Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier-isle, 
 
 Protective of his young. The turkey nigh, 
 
 Loud-threatening, reddens ; while the peacock spreads 
 
 His every-colour'd glory to the sun, 
 
 And swims in radiant majesty along. 
 
 O'er the whole homely scene, the cooing dove 
 
 Flies thick in amorous chase, and wanton rolls 
 
 The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. 
 
 While thus the gentle tenants of the shade 
 Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world, 
 Of brutes, below, rush furious into flame, 
 And fierce desire. Through all his lusty veins 
 The bull, deep-scorch'd, the raging passion feels. 
 Of pasture sick, and negligent of food, 
 Scarce seen, he wades among the yellow broom, 
 While o'er his ample sides the rambling sprays 
 Luxuriant shoot ; or through the mazy wood 
 Dejected wanders, nor th' enticing bud 
 Crops, though it presses on his careless sense. 
 And oft, in jealous mad'ning fancy wrapt,
 
 SPRING. 45 
 
 He seeks the fight ; and, idly-butting, feigns 
 
 His rival gor'd in every knotty trunk. 
 
 Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins : 
 
 Their eyes flash fury ; to the hollow'd earth, 
 
 Whence the sand flies, they mutter bloody deeds, 
 
 And groaning deep, CH 5 impetuous battle mix : 
 
 While the fair heifer, balmy-breathing, near, 
 
 Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed, 
 
 With this hot impulse seiz'd in every nerve, 
 
 Nor heeds the rein, nor hears the sounding thong ; 
 
 Blows are not felt ; but tossing high his head, 
 
 And by the well-known joy to distant plains 
 
 Attracted strong, all wild he bursts away ; 
 
 O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies ; 
 
 And, neighing, on th' aerial summit takes 
 
 Th' exciting gale ; then, steep-descending, cleaves 
 
 The headlong torrents foaming down the hills, 
 
 Ev'n where the madness of the straiten'd stream 
 
 Tunis in black eddies round : such is the force 
 
 With which his frantic heart and sinews swell. 
 
 Nor undelighted by the boundless Spring 
 Are the broad monsters of the foaming deep : 
 From the deep ooze and gelid cavern rous'd, 
 They flounce and tumble in unwieldy joy. 
 Dire were the strain, and dissonant, to sing 
 The cruel raptures of the savage kind : 
 How by this flame their native wrath sublim'd, 
 They roam, amid the fury of their heart, 
 The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands,
 
 46 THE SEASON'S. 
 
 And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme 
 
 I aing, euraptur'd, to the British. ~Eair, 
 
 Forbids, and leads me to the mountain brow, 
 
 Where sits the shepherd on the grassy turf, 
 
 Inhaling, healthful, the descending sun. 
 
 Around him feeds his many-bleating flock, 
 
 Of various cadence ; and his sportive lambs, 
 
 This way and that convolv'd, in friskful glee, 
 
 Their frolics play. And now the sprightly race 
 
 Invites them forth ; when swift, the signal given, 
 
 They start away, and sweep the massy mound 
 
 That runs around the hill ; the rampart once 
 
 Of iron war in ancient barbarous times, 
 
 When disunited Britain ever bled, 
 
 Lost in eternal broil : ere yet she grew 
 
 To this deep-laid indissoluble state, 
 
 Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden heads ; 
 
 And o'er our labours, Liberty and Law, 
 
 Impartial, watch ; the wonder of a world ! 
 
 What is this mighty breath, ye sages, say, 
 That in a powerful language, felt, not heard, 
 Instructs the fowls of heaven ; and through their breast 
 These arts of love diffuses ? What, but GodT 
 Inspiring God ! who, boundless Spirit all, 
 And unremitting Energy, pervades, 
 Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. 
 He ceaseless works alone ; and yet alone 
 Seems not to work with such perfection frara'd 
 Is this complex stupendous scheme of things.
 
 SPRING. 47 
 
 But, though conceal'd to every purer eye 
 Th' informing Author in His works appears : 
 Chief, lovely Spring, in thee, and thy soft scenes, 
 The Smiling God is seen ; while water, earth, 
 And air attest His bounty ; which exalts 
 The brute creation to this finer thought, 
 And annual melts their undesigning hearts 
 Profusely thus in tenderness and joy. 
 
 Still let my song a nobler note assume, 
 And sing th' infusive force of Spring on man ; 
 When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie 
 To raise his being, and serene his soul. 
 Can he forbear to join the general smile 
 Of Nature ? Can fierce passions vex his breast. 
 While every gale is peace, and every grove 
 Is melody ? hence ! from the bounteous walks 
 Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of earth, 
 Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe ; 
 Or only lavish to yourselves ; away ! 
 But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide thought, 
 Of all his works, creative Bounty burns 
 With warmest beam ; and on your open front 
 And liberal eye, sits, from his dark retreat 
 Inviting modest Want. Nor, till invok'd, 
 Can restless goodness wait ; your active search 
 Leaves no cold wintry corner unexplor'd ; 
 Like silent-working Heaven, surprising oft 
 The lonely heart with unexpected good. 
 For you the roving spirit of the wind
 
 48 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Blows Spring abroad ; for you the teeming clouds 
 Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world ; 
 And the sun sheds his kindest rays for you, 
 Ye flower of human race ! in these green days, 
 Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head ; 
 Life flows afresh ; and young-ey'd Health exalts 
 The whole creation round. Contentment walks 
 The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss 
 Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings 
 To purchase. Pure serenity apace 
 Induces thought, and contemplation still. 
 By swift degrees the love of Nature works, 
 And warms the bosom ; till at last sublim'd 
 To rapture, and enthusiastic heat, 
 We feel the present Deity, and taste 
 The joy of GOD to see a happy world ! 
 
 These are the sacred feelings of thy heart, 
 Thy heart inform'd by reason's purer ray, 
 Lyttelton, the friend ! thy passions thus 
 And meditations vary, as at large, 
 Courting the Muse, through Hagley Park thou stray 'st; 
 Thy British Tempd ! there along the dale, 
 With woods o'erhung, and shagg'd with mossy rocks, 
 Whence on each hand the gushing waters play, 
 And down the rough cascade white-dashing fall, 
 Or gleam in leugthen'd vista through the trees, 
 Y'.u silent steal ; or sit beneath the shade 
 Of solemn oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts 
 Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand,
 
 And pensive listen to the various voice 
 Of rural peace : the herds, the flocks, the birds, 
 The hollow- whispering breeze, the plaint of rills, 
 That, purling down amid the twisted roots 
 Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shake 
 On the sooth'd ear. From these abstracted oft, 
 You wander through the philosophic world ; 
 jWhere in bright train continual wonders rise, 
 |Or to the curious or the pious eye. 
 And oft, conducted by historic truth, 
 You tread the long extent of backward time : 
 Planning, with warm benevolence of mind, 
 And honest zeal, unwarp'd by party rage, 
 Britannia's weal ; howjErom the 
 To raise her virtue, and her arts revive. 
 Or, tunun^th^LcaJlxy-KifiW, t 
 The Muses charm : while, with sure taste refin'd, 
 You draw th' inspiring breath of ancient song ; 
 Till nobly rises, emulous, thy own. 
 Perhaps thy lov'd Lucinda shares thy walk, 
 With soul to thine attun'd. Then Nature all 
 Wears to the lover's eye a look of love ; 
 And all the tumult of a guilty world, 
 Tost by ungenerous passions, sinks away. 
 The tender heart is animated peace ; 
 And as it pours its copious treasures forth, 
 In varied converse, softening every theme, 
 You, frequent-pausing, turn, and from her eyes, 
 Where rneeken'd sense, and amiable grace,
 
 
 50 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Aud lively sweetness, dwell, euraptur'd, drink 
 
 That nameless spirit of ethereal joy. 
 
 Unutterable happiness ! which love 
 
 Alone bestows, and ou a favour'd few. 
 
 Meantime you gain the height, from whose fair brow 
 
 The bursting prospect spreads immense around : 
 
 And snatch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn, 
 
 And verdant field, and darkening heath between, 
 
 And villages embosom'd soft in trees, 
 
 And spiry towns by surging columns mark'd 
 
 Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams : 
 
 Wide-stretching from the hall, in whose kind haunt 
 
 The Hospitable Genius lingers still, 
 
 To where the broken landscape, by degrees, 
 
 Ascending, roughens into rigid hills ; 
 
 O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds 
 
 That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise. 
 
 Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year, 
 Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom 
 Shoots, less and leas, the live carnation round ; 
 Her lips blush deeper sweets ; she breathes of youth ; 
 The shining moisture swells into her eyes, 
 In brighter flow ; her wishing bosom heaves, 
 With palpitations wild ; kind tumults seize 
 Her veins, and all her yielding soul is love. 
 From the keen gaze her lover turns away, 
 Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick 
 With sighing languishinent. Ah then, ye fair ! 
 He greatly cautious of your sliding hearts :
 
 SPRING. 51 
 
 Dare not th' infectious sigh ; the pleading look. 
 Down-cast, and low, in meek submission drest, 
 But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue, 
 Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, 
 Gain on your purpos'd will. Nor in the bower, 
 Where woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch, 
 While Evening draws her crimson curtains round, 
 Trust your soft minutes with betraying Man. 
 
 And let th' aspiring youth beware of love, 
 Of the smooth glance beware ; for 'tis too late, 
 When on his heart the torrent-softness pours ; 
 Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame 
 Dissolves in air away ; while the fond soul, 
 Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, 
 Still paints th' illusive form ; the kindling grace ; 
 Th' enticing smile ; the modest seeming eye, 
 Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying heaven, 
 Lurk searchless cunning, cruelty, and death : 
 And still false-warbling in his cheated ear, 
 Her siren- voice, enchalltllig 1 , dl'Aws him on 
 To guileful shores, and meads of fatal joy. 
 
 Ev'n present in the very lap of love 
 Inglorious laid ; while music flows around, 
 Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours ; 
 Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears 
 Her snaky crest : a quick-returning pang 
 Shoots through the conscious heart ; where honour still 
 And great design, against th' oppressive load 
 Of luxury, by tits, impatient heave.
 
 52 THE SEASONS. 
 
 But absent, what fantastic woes, arous'd, 
 Rage in each thought, by restless musing fed, 
 C'hill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of life ! 
 Neglected fortune flies ; and sliding swift, 
 Proue into ruin, fall his scorn'd affairs. 
 Tia nought but gloom around : the darken'd sun 
 Loses his light. The rosy-bosom'd Spring 
 To weeping Fancy pines : and yon bright arch, 
 Contracted, bends into a dusky vault 
 All Nature fades extinct ; and she alone 
 Heard, felt, and seen, Assesses every thought, 
 Fills every sense, and pants in every vein. 
 Books are but formal dulness, tedious friends ; 
 And sad amid the social band he sits, 
 Lonely, and unattentive. From his tongue 
 Th* unfinish'd period falls : while, borne away 
 On swelling thought, his wafted spirit flies 
 To the vain bosom of his distant fair ; 
 And leaves the semblance of a lover, fix'd 
 In melancholy site, with head declin'd, 
 And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts, 
 Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs 
 To glimmering shades, and sympathetic glooms ; 
 Where the dun umbrage o'er the falling stream, 
 Romantic, hangs ; there through the pensive dusk 
 BtUtyl, i" heart-thrilling meditation lost, 
 Indulging all to love : or on the bank 
 Thrown, amid drooping lilien, awelU the breeze 
 With nigh* munuing, and the brook with team.
 
 SPRING. 53 
 
 Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day, 
 Nor quits his deep retirement, till the Moon 
 Peeps through the chambers of the fleecy east, 
 Enlightened by degrees, and in her train 
 Leads on the gentle Hours ; then forth he walks, 
 Beneatn the trembling languish of her beam, 
 With soften'd soul, and woos the bird of eve 
 To mingle woes with his : or, while the world 
 And all the sons of Care lie hush'd in sleep, 
 Associates with the midnight shadows drear ; 
 And, sighing to the lonely taper, pours 
 His idly-tortur'd heart into the page, 
 Meant for the moving messenger of love ; 
 Where rapture jmrna on rapture, every line 
 WitIT risirig~f renzy fir'd. But if on bed 
 Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies, 
 All night he tosses, nor the balmy power 
 In any posture finds ; till the grey Mom 
 Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch, 
 Exanimate by love : and then perhaps 
 Exhausted Nature sinks awhile to rest, 
 Still interrupted by distracted dreams, 
 That o'er the sick imagination rise, 
 AndnTBIack colours paint tfie mimic scene. 
 Oft with the enchantress of his soul m? talks ; 
 Sometimes in crowds distress'd ; or if retir'd 
 To secret winding flower-enwoven bowers, 
 Far from the dull impertinence of Man, 
 Just as he, credulous, his endless cares
 
 54 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Begins to lose in blind oblivious love, 
 
 Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how, 
 
 Through forests huge, and long untravel'd heaths 
 
 With desolation brown, he wanders waste, 
 
 In night and tempest wrapt : or shrinks aghast, 
 
 Back, from the bending precipice ; or wades 
 
 The turbid stream below, and strives to reach 
 
 The further shore ; where succourless and sad, 
 
 She with extended arms his aid implores ; 
 
 But strives in vain ; borne by th' outrageous flood 
 
 To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave, 
 
 Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy sinks. 
 
 These are the charming agonies of love, 
 Whose misery delights. But through the heart 
 Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 
 Tis then delightful misery no more, 
 But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, 
 Corroding every thought, and blasting all 
 Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then, 
 Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, 
 Farewell ! ye gleamings of departed peace, 
 Shine out your last ! the yellow-tinging plague 
 Internal vision taints, and in a night 
 Of livid gloom imagination wraps. 
 Ah, then ! instead of love enliven'd cheeks, 
 Of sunny features, and of ardent eyes 
 With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, 
 SufliiH'd and glaring with untender fire ; 
 A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek,
 
 SPRING. 55 
 
 Where the whole poison'd soul, malignant, sits, 
 
 And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears 
 
 Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views 
 
 Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms 
 
 For which he melts in fondness, eat him up 
 
 With fervent anguish, and consuming rage, 
 
 In vain reproaches lend their idle aid, 
 
 Deceitful pride, and resolution frail, 
 
 Giving false peace a moment. Fancy pours, 
 
 Afresh, her beauties on his busy thought, 
 
 Her first endearments twining round the soul, 
 
 With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. 
 
 Straight the fierce storm involves his mind anew, 
 
 Flames through the nerves, and boils along the veins ; 
 
 While anxious doubt distracts the tortur"d heart : 
 
 For eVn the sad assurance of his fears 
 
 Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth, 
 
 Whom love deludes into his thorny wilds, 
 
 Through flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life 
 
 Of fever'd rapture, or of cruel care ; 
 
 His brightest aims extinguish'd all, and all 
 
 His lively moments running down to waste. /-, ~ 
 
 But happy they^ ! the happiest of their kind ! 
 Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate 
 Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 
 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, 
 Unnatural oft and foreign to the mind, 
 That binds their peace f but harmony. Itself, 
 Attuuiag_all_their passions into love ;
 
 50 THK SEASONS. 
 
 Where friendship full-exerts her softest power, 
 
 Perfect esteem enlivened by desire 
 
 Ineffable, and sympathy of soul ; 
 
 Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will, 
 
 With boundless confidence : for nought but love 
 
 Can answer love, and render bliss secure. 
 
 Let him, ungenerous, who, alone intent 
 
 To bless himself, from sordid parents buys 
 
 The loathing virgin, in eternal care, 
 
 Well-merited, consume his nights and days : 
 
 Let barbarous nations, whose inhuman love 
 
 Is wild desire, fierce as the suns they feel ; 
 
 Let eastern tyrants from the light of heaven 
 
 Seclude their bosom-slaves, meanly possess : d 
 
 Of a mere lifeless, violated form : 
 
 While those whom love cements in holy faith, 
 
 And equal transport, free as Nature live, 
 
 Disdaining fear. What is the world to them, 
 
 Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all 1 
 
 Who in each other clasp whatever fair 
 
 High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish ; 
 
 Something than beauty dearer, should they look 
 
 < 'i <>ii the mind, or mind-illumin'd face ; 
 
 Truth, goodness, honour, harmony, and love, 
 
 The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven. 
 
 Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, 
 
 And mingles both their graces. By degrees, 
 
 The human blossom blows; and every day, 
 
 Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm,
 
 SPRING. 57 
 
 The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. 
 Then infant reason grown apace, and calls 
 For the kind hand of an assiduous care. 
 Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, 
 To teach the young idea how to shoot, 
 To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, 
 To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix 
 The generous purpose in the glowing breast. 
 Oh, speak the joy ! ye, whom the sudden tear 
 Surprises often, while you look around, 
 And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss, 
 All various Nature pressing on the heart : 
 An elegant sufficiency, content, 
 Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, 
 Ease and alternate labour, useful life, 
 Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven ! 
 These are the matchless jojs^of^^rjbuc>usjove ; 
 And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus, 
 As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll, 
 Still find them happy ; and consenting SPRING 
 Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads : 
 Till evening comes at J.ast, serene and mild ; 
 When after the long vernal day of life, 
 Enamour'd more, as more remembrance swells 
 With many a proof of recollected love, 
 Together down they sink in social sleep ; 
 Together freed, their gentle spirits fly 
 To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign.
 
 THE subject proposed. Invocation. Address to Mr. Dod- 
 ington. An introductory reflection on the motion of the 
 heavenly bodies; whence the succession of the seasons. 
 As the face of Nature in this season is almost uniform, 
 the progress of the poem is a description of a summer's 
 day. The dawn. Sun-rising. Hymn to the sun. Fore- 
 noon. Summer insects described. Hay-making. Sheep- 
 shearing. Noon-day. A woodland retreat. Group of 
 herd* and flocks. A solemn grove : how it affects a 
 contemplative mind. A cataract, and rude scene. View 
 of Summer in the torrid cone. Storm of thunder and 
 lightning. A tale. The storm over, a serene afternoon. 
 Bathing. Hour of walking. Transition to the prospect 
 of a rich well -cultivated country; which introduces a 
 panegyric on Great Britain. Sun-set. Evening. Night. 
 Summer meteors. A comet The whole concluding with 
 the praise of philosophy.
 
 slie with the sylvan pen 
 
 Of rural lovers this confefsion caiVd, 
 
 Which sooi\ Txr Damon. Trifs'd with weeping j oy ; 
 
 DRAWN BY RICHARD WKST<U.I,.R A . |-'.W<;RAVKI> H>' CHAKI.KS KOI.I.S
 
 SUMMER. 
 
 FROM brightening fields of ether fair disclos'd, 
 
 Child of the Sun, refulgent SUMMER comes, 
 
 In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth . 
 
 He comes attended by the sultry Hours, 
 
 And ever-fanning breezes, on his way ; 
 
 While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring 
 
 Averts her blushful face ; and earth and skies, 
 
 All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves. 
 
 Hence, let me haste into the mid-wood shade, 
 Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom ; 
 And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink 
 Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak 
 Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large, 
 And sing the glories of the circling year. 
 
 Come, Inspiration ! from thy hermit-seat, 
 By mortal seldom found : may Fancy dare, 
 From thy fix'd serious eye, and raptur'd glance 
 Shot on surrounding heaven, to steal one look 
 Creative of the Poet, every power 
 Exalting to an ecstasy of soul. 
 
 And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend, 
 In whom the human "races all unite :
 
 60 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart : 
 Genius, and wisdom ; the gay social sense, 
 By decency chastis'd ; goodness and wit, 
 In seldom-meeting harmony combin'd ; 
 Unblemish'd honour, and an active zeal 
 For Britain's glory, Liberty, and Man : 
 O Dodington ! attend my rural song, 
 Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line, 
 And teach me to deserve thy just applause. 
 
 With what an awful world-revolving power 
 Were first the unwieldy planets launch'd along 
 'I'll' illimitable void ! thus to remain, 
 Amid the flux of many thousand years, 
 Tliat oft has swept the toiling race of men, 
 And all their laboured monuments, away, 
 Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course ; 
 To the kind-temper'd change of night and day, 
 And of the seasons ever stealing round, 
 Minutely faithful : such th' All-perfect Hand ! 
 That |>i><l, impels, and rules the steady whole. 
 
 When now no more th' alternate Twins are fir'd, 
 And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze, 
 Short ia the doubtful empire of the night ; 
 And soon, observant of approaching day, 
 The meek-ey'd Morn appears, mother of dew8, 
 At tint faint-gleaming in the dappled east : 
 Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow ; 
 And, from before the lustre of her face, 
 White break the clouds away. With quicken'd step,
 
 SUMMER. ()1 
 
 Brown Night retires : young Day pours iu apace, 
 And opens all the lawny prospect wide. 
 The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top 
 Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn. 
 Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine ; 
 And from the bladed field the fearful hare 
 Limps, awkward : while along the forest-glade 
 The wild deer trip, and often turning gaze 
 At early passenger. Music awakes 
 The native voice of undissembled joy ; 
 And thick around the woodland hymns arise. 
 Eous'd by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves 
 His mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells ; 
 And from the crowded fold, in order, drives 
 His flock to taste the verdure of the morn. 
 Falsely luxurious ! will not Man awake ; 
 And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy 
 The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, 
 To meditation due and sacred song 1 
 For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise ? 
 To lie in dead oblivion, losing half 
 The fleeting moments of too short a life ; 
 Total extinction of th' enlighten'd soul ! 
 Or else to feverish vanity alive, 
 Wilder'd, and tossing through distemper'd dreams ? 
 Who would in such a gloomy state remain 
 Longer than Nature craves ; when every Muse 
 And every blooming pleasure wait without, 
 To bless the wildly -devious morning walk '!
 
 62 THE SEASONS. 
 
 But yonder comes the powerful King of^Day, 
 Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, 
 The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
 Illum'd with fluid gold, his near approach 
 Betoken glad. Lo ! now, apparent all, 
 Aslant the dew-bright earth, and colourVl air, 
 He looks in boundless majesty abroad ; 
 And sheds the shining day, that burnish'd plays 
 On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams, 
 High gleaming from afar. Prime cheerer, Light ! 
 Of all material beings first, and best ! 
 Efflux divine ! Nature's resplendent robe ! 
 Without whose vestal beauty all were wrapt 
 In unessential gloom ; and thou, O Sun ! 
 Soul of surrounding worlds ! in whom best seen 
 Shines out thy Maker ; may I sing of thee ? 
 
 Tis by thy secret, strong, attractive force, 
 As with a chain indissoluble bound, 
 Thy system rolls entire : from the far bourne 
 Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round 
 Of thirty years ; to Mercury, whose disk 
 Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, 
 Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze. 
 
 Informer of the planetary train ! 
 Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous 
 
 orbs 
 
 Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead, 
 \ii-l not, ax now, the green abodes of life ! 
 many forms of being wait nn thee !
 
 SUMMER. 63 
 
 Inhaling spirit ; from th' unfetter'd mind, 
 By thee sublim'd, down to the daily race. 
 The mixing myriads of thy setting beam. 
 
 The vegetable world is also thine, 
 Parent of Seasons ! who the pomp precede 
 That waits thy throne, as through thy vast domain, 
 Annual, along the bright ecliptic road, 
 In world-rejoicing state, it moves sublime. 
 Meantime th' expecting nations, circled gay 
 With all the various tribes of foodf ul earth, 
 Implore thy bounty, or send grateful up 
 A common hymn : while, round thy beaming car, 
 High-seen, the Seasons lead, in sprightly dance 
 Harmonious knit, the rosy-finger'd Hours, 
 The Zephyrs floating loose, the timely Eains, 
 Of bloom ethereal the light-footed Dews, 
 And soften'd into joy the surly Storms. 
 These, in successive turn, with lavish hand, 
 Shower every beauty, every fragrance shower, 
 Herbs, flowers, and fruits ; and, kindling at thy touch 
 From land to land is flush'd the vernal year. 
 
 Nor to the surface of enliven'd earth, 
 Graceful with hills and dales, and leafy woods, 
 Her liberal tresses, is thy force confin'd : 
 But, to the bowel'd cavern darting deep, 
 The mineral kinds confess thy mighty power. 
 Eifulgent, hence the veiny marble shines ; 
 Hence Labour draws his tools ; hence burnish'd War 
 Gleams on the day ; the nobler works of Peace
 
 64 TI1K SEASONS. 
 
 Heuce bless mankind, and generous Commerce binds 
 The round of nations in a golden chain. 
 
 Th' unfruitful rock itself, iropregn'd by thee, 
 In dark retirement forms the lucid stone. 
 The lively diamond drinks thy purest rays, 
 Collected light, compact ; that, polish 'd bright, 
 And all its native lustre let abroad, 
 Dares, as it sparkles on the fair one's breast, 
 With vain ambition emulate her eyes. 
 At thee the ruby lights its deepening glow, 
 And with a waving radiance inward flames. 
 From thee the sapphire, solid ether, takes 
 Its hue cerulean ; and, of evening tinct, 
 The purple-streaming amethyst is thine. 
 With thy own smile the yellow topaz burns. 
 Nor deeper verdure dyes the robe of Spring, 
 When first she gives it to the southern gale, 
 Than the green emerald shows. But, all combin'd, 
 Thick through the whitening opal play thy beams ; 
 Or, flying several from its surface, form 
 A trembling variance of revolving hues, 
 AH the site varies in the gazer's hand. 
 
 The very dead creation, from thy tom-li, 
 Assumes a mimic life. By thee refin'd, 
 In brighter mazes the relucent stream 
 Plays o'er the mead. The precipice abrupt, 
 Projecting horror on the blacken'd flood, 
 Softens at thy return. The desert joys, 
 Wildly, through all hi* melancholy Ixmnds.
 
 SUMMER. 65 
 
 Rude ruins glitter, and the briny deep, 
 Seen from some pointed promontory's top, 
 Far to the blue horizon's utmost verge, 
 Restless, reflects a floating gleam. But this, 
 And all the much-transported Muse can sing, 
 Are to thy beauty, dignity, and use, 
 Unequal far ; great delegated source 
 Of light, and life, and grace, and joy below ! 
 
 How shall I then attempt to singpfHiM ! 
 Who, Light Himself, in uncreated light 
 Invested deep, dwells awfully retired 
 From mortal eye, or angel's purer ken ; 
 Whose single smile has, from the first of time, 
 Fill'd, overflowing, all those lamps of heaven, 
 That beam for ever through the boundless sky : 
 But, should he hide his face, th' astonish'd sun, 
 And all th' extinguish'd stars, would loosening reel 
 Wide from their spheres, and Chaos come again. 
 
 And yet was every faltering tongue of Man, 
 ALMIGHTY FATHER, ! silent in thy praise ; 
 Thy Works themselves would raise a general voice, 
 Ev'n in the depth of solitary woods 
 By human foot untrod ; proclaim thy power, 
 And to the quire celestial THEE resound, 
 Th' eternal cause, support, and end of all ! 
 
 To me be Nature's volume broad-display'd ; 
 And to peruse its all-instructing page, 
 Or, haply catching inspiration thence, 
 Some easy passage, raptur'd, to translate,
 
 66 THB SEASONS. 
 
 My sole delight ; as through t lie falling glooms 
 Pensive I stray, or with the rising dawn 
 On Fancy's eagle-wing excursive soar. 
 Now, flaming up the heavens, the potent sun 
 Melts into limpid air the high-rais'd clouds, 
 And morning fogs, that hovei-'d round the hills 
 In party-colour'd bands ; till wide unveil'd 
 The face of Nature shines, from where earth 
 Far-stretch'd around, to meet the bending sphere. 
 
 Half in a blush of clustering roses lost, 
 Dew-dropping Coolness to the shade retires ; 
 There, on the verdant turf, or flowery bed, 
 By gelid founts and careless rills to muse ; 
 While tyrant Heat, dispreading through the sky, 
 With rapid sway his burning influence darts 
 < MI man, and beast, and herb, and tepid stream. 
 
 Who can unpitying see the flowery race, 
 Shed by the morn, their new-flush'd bloom resign, 
 Before the parching beam I so fade the fair, 
 When fevers revel through their azure VMDS. 
 But one the lofty follower of the sun, 
 Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves, 
 Drooping all night ; and, when he warm returns 
 Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray. 
 
 Home, from his morning task, the swain retreats ; 
 Hb flock before him stepping to the fold : 
 Wliili- tin- fiill-u.l.lfiM mother lows around 
 The cheerful cottage, then expecting food, 
 Tin- ffMMl ( ,f inruNTiicf and health '. the daw,
 
 BUMMER. 67 
 
 The rook, and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks 
 
 That the calm village in their verdant arms, 
 
 Sheltering, embrace, direct their lazy flight ; 
 
 Where on the mingling boughs they sit embower'd, 
 
 All the hot noon, till cooler hours arise. 
 
 Faint, underneath, the household fowls convene ; 
 
 And, in a corner of the buzzing shade, 
 
 The house-dog, witli the vacant greyhound, lies, 
 
 Out-stretch'd, and sleepy. ( In his slumbers one 
 
 Attacks the nightly thief, and one exults 
 
 O'er hill and dale : till, waken'd by the wasp, 
 
 They starting snap. Nor shall the Muse disdain 
 
 To let the little noisy summer-race 
 
 Live in her lay, and flutter through her song : 
 
 Not mean though simple ; to the sun ally'd, 
 
 From him they draw their animating fire. 
 
 Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young 
 Come wing'd abroad ; by the light air upborne, 
 Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink, 
 And secret corner, where they slept away 
 The wintry storms ; or rising from their tombs, 
 To higher life ; by myriads, forth at once, 
 Swarming they pour ; of all the vary'd hues 
 Their beauty -beaming parent can~31sclose. 
 Ten thousand forms, ten thousand different tribes, 
 People the blaze. To sunny waters some 
 By fatal instinct fly ; where on the pool 
 They, sportive, wheel : or, sailing down the stream, 
 Are snatch'd immediate by the quick-ey'd trout,
 
 68 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Or darting salmon. Through the green-wood glade 
 Some love to stray : there lodg'd, anuis'd, and fed, 
 In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make 
 The meads their choice, and visit every flower, 
 And every latent herb : for the sweet task, 
 To propagate their kinds, and where to wrap, 
 In what soft beds, their young yet undisclos'd, 
 Employs their tender care. Some to the house, 
 The fold, and dairy, hungry, bend their flight ; 
 Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese : 
 Oft, inadvertent, from the milky stream 
 They meet their fate : or, weltering in the bowl, 
 With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire. 
 
 But chief to heedless flies the window proves 
 A constant death ; where, gloomily retir'd, 
 The villain spider lives, cunning, and fierce, 
 Mixture abhorr'd ; amid a mangled heap 
 Of carcasses, in eager watch he sits, _- 
 O'erlooking all his waving snares around. 
 Near the dire cell the dreadless wanderer oft 
 Passes, as oft the ruffian shows his front ; 
 The prey at last ensnar'd, he dreadful darts, 
 With rapid glide, along the leaning line ; 
 And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs, 
 Strikes backward grimly pleas'd ; the fluttering wing, 
 And shriller sound, declare extreme distress, 
 And a-k th- helping hospitable hand. 
 
 Rttounds the living surface of the ground : 
 Nor undelightfiil is the ceaseless hum,
 
 SUMMER. 69 
 
 To him who muses through the woods at noon ; 
 Or drowsy shepherd, as he lies reclin'd, 
 With half-shut eyes, beneath the floating shade 
 Of willows grey, close-crowding o'er the brook. "^ 
 Gradual, from these what numerous kinds descend, 
 Evading ev'n the microscopic eye ? 
 Full Nature swarms with life ; one wondrous mass 
 Of animals, or atoms organised, 
 Waiting the vital breath, when parent_Heaven 
 Shall bid his spirit blow. The hoary fen, 
 In putrid streams, emits the living cloud 
 Of pestilence. Through subterranean cells, 
 Where searching sunbeams scarce can find a way, 
 Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf 
 Wants not its soft inhabitants. Secure, 
 Within its winding citadel, the stone 
 Holds multitudes. But chief the forest boughs, 
 That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze, 
 The downy orchard, and the melting pulp 
 Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed 
 Of evanescent insects. Where the pool 
 Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible, 
 Amid the floating verdure millions stray. 
 Each liquid too, whether it pierces, soothes, 
 Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste, 
 With various forms abounds. Nor is the stream 
 Of purest crystal, nor the lucid air, 
 Though one transparent vacancy it seems, 
 Void of their unseen people. These, conccal'd
 
 70 THK SEASONS. 
 
 By the kind heart of forming Heaven, escape 
 The grosser eye of man : for, if the worlds 
 In worlds enclos'd should on his senses burst, 
 From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl, 
 He would abhorrent turn ; and in dead night, 
 When silence sleeps o'er all, be stunn'd with noise. 
 
 Let no presuming impious railer tax 
 CREATIVE WISDOM, as if aught was form'd 
 In vain, or not for admirable ends. 
 Shall little haughty Ignorance pronounce 
 His works unwise, of which the smallest part 
 ExceedVthe narrow visions of her mind ? 
 As if upon a full-proportion'd dome, 
 On swelling columns heav'd, the pride of art ! 
 A critic-fly, whose feeble ray scarce spreads 
 An inch around, with blind presumption bold, 
 Should dare to tax the structure of the whole. 
 And lives the Man, whose universal eye 
 Hafi swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things 
 Mark'd their dependance so, and firm ari-.u-.l, 
 As with unfaltering accent to conclude 
 That this availeth nought ? Has any seen 
 i The mighty chain of beings, lessening <lc>\\n 
 ', From Infinite Perfection to the brink 
 < f 1 1 wiry nothing, desolate abyss ! 
 From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns ( 
 Till tlit-n alone let zealous praise- am-i ml. 
 Ami hymn* of holy wonder, to that POWER, 
 Whoae wiwlom Hhinon RM lovely on our mind*.
 
 SUMMER. 71 
 
 As on our smiling eyes his servant-sun. 
 
 Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways, 
 Upward, and downward, thwarting, and convolv'd, 
 The quivering nations sport ; till, tempest-wing'd, 
 Fierce Winter sweeps them from the face of day. 
 Ev'n so luxurious men, unheeding, pass 
 An idle summer life in fortune's shine, 
 A season's glitter ! thus they flutter on 
 From toy to toy, from vanity to vice ; 
 Till, blown away by death, oblivion comes 
 Behind, and strikes them from the book of life. 
 
 Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead : 
 The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil, 
 Healthful and strong ; full as the summer rose 
 Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid,- 
 Half naked, swelling on the sight, and "all 
 Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek. 
 Ev'n stooping age is here ; and infant-hands 
 Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load 
 O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll. 
 Wide flies the tedded grain ; all in a row 
 Advancing broad, or wheeling round the field, 
 They spread the breathing harvest to the sun, 
 That throws refreshful round a rural smell : 
 Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground, 
 And drive the dusky wave along the mead, 
 The russet hay-cock rises thick behind, 
 In order gay. While heard from dale to dale, 
 Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice
 
 72 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Of happy labour, love, and social glee. 
 
 Or rushing thence, in one diffusive band, 
 They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog 
 Compell'd, to where the mazy -running brook 
 Forms a deep pool ; this bank abrupt and high, 
 And that fair spreading in a pebbled shore. 
 UrgM to the giddy brink, much is the toil, 
 The clamour much, of men, and boys, and dogs, 
 Ere the soft fearful people to the flood 
 Commit their woolly sides. And oft the swain, 
 On some impatient seizing, hurls them in : 
 Embolden'd then, nor hesitating more, 
 Fast, fast, they plunge amid the flashing wave, 
 And panting labour to the furthest shore. 
 Repeated this, till deep the well-wash'd fleece 
 Haa drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt 
 The trout is KuiishM by the sordid stream ; 
 Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow 
 Slow move the harmless race : where, as they spread 
 Their swelling treasures to the sunny ray, 
 I Inly disturb'd and wondering what this wild 
 . Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints 
 1 The country fill ; and, toss'd from rock to nx-k, 
 Incessant bleatings run around the hills. 
 At but, of snowy white, the gather'd flocks 
 Are in the wattled pen innumerous press 'd, 
 Head above head : and rang'd in lusty rows 
 The shepherds sit, and whet the Bounding shears. 
 The housewife wait* to roll her fleecy stores,
 
 SUMMER. 
 
 73 
 
 With all her gay-drest maids attending around. 
 One, chief, in gracious dignity enthron'd, 
 Shines o'er the rest, the pastoral queen, and rays 
 Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king ; 
 While the glad circle round them yield their souls 
 To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. 
 Meantime, their joyous task goes on apace : 
 Some mingling stir the melted tar, and some, 
 Deep on the new-shorn vagrant's heaving side, 
 To stamp the master's cypher ready stand ; 
 Other th' unwilling wether drag along ; 
 And, glorying in his might, the sturdy boy 
 Holds by the twisted horns the indignant ram. 
 Behold where bound, and of its robe bereft, 
 By needy Man, that all-depending lord, 
 How meek, how patient, the mild creature lies ! 
 What softness in its melancholy face, 
 What dumb complaining innocence appears ! 
 Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the knife 
 Of horrid slaughter that is o'er you wav'd ; 
 No, 'tis the tender swain's well-guided shears, 
 Who having now, to pay his annual care, 
 Borrow'd your fleece, to you a cumbrous load, 
 Will send you bounding to your hills again. 
 A simple scene ! yet hence Britannia sees 
 Her solid grandeur rise : hence she commands 
 Th' exalted stores of every brighter clime, 
 The treasures of the Sun without his rage : 
 Hence, fervent all, with culture, toil, and arts,
 
 74 THE SKASOXS. 
 
 Wide glows her laud : her dreadful thunder lu-iu-o 
 Rides o'er the waves sublime, and now ev'u now. 
 Impending hangs o'er Gallia's humbled coast ; 
 Hence rules the circling deep, and awes the world. 
 
 'Tis raging noon ; and, vertical, the sun 
 Darts on the head direct his forceful rays. 
 O'er heaven and earth, far as the ranging eve 
 <an sweep, a dazzling deluge reigns ; and all 
 From pole to pole is uudistinguish'd blaze. 
 In vain the sight, dejected, to the ground 
 Stoops for relief ; thence hot-ascending steams 
 And keen reflection pain. Deep to the root 
 Of vegetation parch'd, the cleaving fields 
 And slippery lawn an arid hue disclose, 
 Blast Fancy's bloom, and wither ev'n the soul. 
 Echo no more returns the cheerful mmnd 
 Of sharpening scythe : the mower sinking heaps 
 O'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfum'd 
 And scarce a chirping grasshopper is heard 
 Through the dumb mead. Distressful Nature pants. 
 The very streams look languid from afar : 
 Or, through th" unsheltered glade, imjvitiont, 
 To hurl into the covert of the grove. 
 
 All-r<iinjii.'iiii^ H.-nt, oh intermit thy wrath ! 
 And on my throbbing temples potent thus 
 Beam not so fierce ! incessant still you flow, 
 A inl still another fervent flood succeeds, 
 I'.'m .1 mi the head profuse. In vain I sigh, 
 And i. -.'!.>. turn, and look around for night ;
 
 SUMMER. 75 
 
 Night is far off ; and hotter hours approach. 
 Thrice happy he ! who on the sunless side 
 Of a romantic mountain, forest-crown'd, 
 Beneath the whole collected shade reclines : 
 Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine-wrought, 
 And fresh bedew'd with ever-spouting streams, 
 Sits coolly calm ; while all the world without, 
 Unsatisfied, and sick, tosses in noon. 
 Emblem instructive of the virtuous man, 
 Who keeps his temper'd mind serene, and pure, 
 And every passion aptly harmoniz'd, 
 Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd. 
 
 Welcome, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets, hail ! 
 Ye lofty pines ! ye venerable oaks ! 
 Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep ! 
 Delicious is your shelter to the soul, 
 As to the hunted hart the sallying spring, 
 Or stream full-flowing, that his swelling sides 
 Laves, as he floats along the herbag'd brink. 
 Cool, through the nerves, your pleasing comfort glides ; 
 The heart beats glad ; the fresh-expanded eye 
 And ear resume their watch ; the sinews knit ; 
 And life shoots swift through all the lighten'd limbs. 
 
 Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along 
 The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock, 
 Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool, 
 Now starting to a sudden stream, and now 
 Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain ; 
 A various group the herds and flocks compose,
 
 76 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Rural confusion ! on the grassy bank 
 
 Some ruminating lie ; while others stand 
 
 Half in the flood, and often bending sip 
 
 The circling surface. In the middle droops ' 
 
 The strong laborious ox, of honest front, 
 
 Which incompos'd he shakes ; and from his sides 
 
 The troublous insects lashes with his tail, 
 
 Returning still. Amid his subjects safe, 
 
 Slumbers the monarch-swain ; his careless arm 
 
 Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd ; 
 
 Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fill'd ; 
 
 There, listening every noise, his watchful dog. 
 
 Light fly his slumbers, if perchance a flight 
 
 Of angry gad-flies fasten on the herd ; 
 
 That starting scatters from the shallow brook, 
 
 In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam, 
 
 They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain, 
 
 Through all the bright severity of noon ; 
 
 While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan 
 
 Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills. 
 
 Oft in this season too the horse, provok'd, 
 While his big sinews full of spirits swell, 
 Trembling with vigour, in the heat of blood, 
 Springs the high fence ; and, o'er the field effusM 
 Darin on the gloomy flood, with stedfast eye, 
 And heart estrang'd to fear : his nervous chest, 
 Luxuriant, and erect, the seat of strength ! 
 Bean down th' opposing stream : <|tienehless liis thirst; 
 II- takes the ri\.T at i .lnul>lr.l
 
 SUMMER. 77 
 
 And with wide nostrils, snorting, skims the wave. 
 
 Still let me pierce into the midnight depth 
 Of yonder grove, of wildest largest growth : 
 That forming high in air, a woodland quire, 
 Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every step, 
 Solemn, and slow, the shadows blacker fall, 
 And-all is awful listening gloom around. 
 
 These are the haunts of Meditation, these 
 The scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring breath, 
 Ecstatic, felt ; and, from this world retir'd, 
 Convers'd with angels, and immortal forms, 
 On gracious errands bent : to save the fall 
 Of virtue struggling on the brink of vice ; 
 In waking whispers, and repeated dreams, 
 To hint pure thought, and warn the favour'd soul 
 For future trials fated to prepare ; 
 To prompt the poet, who devoted gives 
 His muse to better themes ; to soothe the pangs 
 Of dying worth, and from the patriot's breast 
 (Backward to mingle in detested war, 
 But foremost when engag'd) to turn the death ; 
 And numberless such offices of love, 
 Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform. 
 
 Shook sudden from the bosom of the sky, 
 A thousand shapes or glide athwart the dusk, 
 Or stalk majestic on. Deep-rous'd, I feel 
 A sacred terror, a severe delight, 
 
 Creep through my mortal frame ; and thus, methinks, 
 A voice, than human more, the abstracted ear
 
 78 TUB SEASONS. 
 
 Of fancy strikes : " Be not of us afraid, 
 Poor kindred man ! thy fellow-creatures, we 
 From the same Parent-Power our beings drew, 
 The same our Lord, and laws, and great pursuit, 
 Once some of us, like thee, through stormy life, 
 Toil'd, tempest-beaten, ere we could attain 
 This holy calm, this harmony of mind, 
 Where purity and peace immingle charms. 
 Then fear not us ; but with responsive song, 
 Amid these dim recesses, undisturb'd 
 ~Sy noisy folly and discordant vice, 
 Of Nature sing with us, and Nature's Goi>. 
 Here frequent, at the visionary hour, 
 When musing midnight reigns or silent noon, 
 Angelic harps are in full concert heard, 
 And voices chanting from the wood-crown 'd hill, 
 The deepening dale, or inmost silvan glade : 
 A privilege bestow'd by us alone, 
 On Contemplation, or the hallow'd ear 
 Of poet, swelling to seraphic strain.' 1 
 
 And art thou, Stanly,* of that sacred band ? 
 Alas, for us too soon ! though rais'd above 
 The reach of human |>ain, above the flight 
 Of human joy ; yet, with a mingled ray 
 Of sadly pleas'd remembrance, must thou feel 
 A mother's love, a mother's tender woe : 
 Who Heekii thee still, in many u fonnrr 8vne ; 
 
 ' A young Udy, who died nt the ge of eighteen, in the your 
 173R, upon whom Thomson wrote an epitaph.
 
 SUMMER. 70 
 
 Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely-beaming eyes, 
 Thy pleasing converse, by gay lively sens 
 Inspir'd : where moral wisdom mildly shone, 
 Without the toil of art ; and virtue glow'd, 
 In all her smiles, without forbidding pride. 
 But, O thou best of parents ! wipe thy tears ; 
 Or rather to Parental Nature pay 
 The tears of grateful joy, who for awhile 
 Lent thee this younger self, this opening bloom 
 Of thy enlightened mind and gentle worth. 
 Believe the Muse : the wintry blast of death 
 Kills not the buds of virtue ; no, they spread, 
 Beneath the heavenly beam of brighter suna, 
 Through endless ages, into higher powers. 
 
 Thus up the mount, in airy vision wrapt, 
 I stray, regardless whither ; till the sound 
 Of a near fall of water every sense 
 "Wakes from the charm of thought : swift-shrinking 
 
 back, 
 I check my steps, and view the broken scene. 
 
 Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood 
 Rolls fair, and placid ; where collected all," 
 In one impetuous torrent, down the steep 
 It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round. 
 At first, an azure sheet, it rushes broad ; 
 Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls, 
 And from the loud-resounding rocks below 
 Dash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft 
 A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower.
 
 HI THE SEASONS. 
 
 Nor can the torturM wave here find rej>ose : 
 But, raging still amid the shaggy rocks, 
 Now flashes o'er the scatter'd fragments, now 
 Aslant the hollow cliaimel rapid darts ; 
 And falling fast from gradual slope to slope, 
 With wild infracted course, and lessen'd rt>ar, 
 It gains a safer bed, and steals, at last, 
 Along the mazes of the quiet vale. 
 
 Invited from the cliff, to whose dark brow 
 He rlings, the steep-ascending eagle soars, 
 With upward pinions through the flood of day ; 
 And, giving full his bosom to the blaze, 
 (Jains on the sun ; while all the tuneful race, 
 Smit by afflictive noon, disorder"d droop, 
 Deep in the thicket ; or, from bower to bower 
 Responsive, force an interrupted strain. 
 The stock -dove only through the forest cooes, 
 Mournfully hoarse ; oft ceasing from his plaint, 
 Short interval of weary woe ! again 
 The sad idea of his murderM mate, 
 Struck from his side by savage fowler's guile, 
 Across his fancy comes ; and then resounds 
 A louder song of sorrow through the grove. 
 
 Beside the dewy bonier let me sit, 
 All in the freshness of the humid air : 
 Tin-re in that hollow'd rock, grotesque and wild, 
 An ample chnir moHs-lin'd, and over lu-ad 
 By flowering umbrage xhaded ; wln-iv tin- 1... 
 Stray H diligent, and with th' extracted Italin
 
 SUMMKR. 81 
 
 Of fragrant woodbine loads his little thigh. 
 
 Now, while I taste the sweetness of the shade, 
 While Nature lies around deep-lull'd in noon, 
 Noyucome. bold Fancy, spread a daring flight, 
 And view the wonders of the torrid zone : 
 Climes unrelenting ! with whose rage compared, 
 Yon blaze is feeble, and yon skies are cool. 
 
 See, how at once the bright-effulgent sun, 
 Rising direct, swift chases from the sky 
 The short-liv'd twilight ; and with ardent blaze 
 Looks gaily fierce through all the dazzling air : 
 He mounts his throne ; but kind before him sends, 
 Issuing from out the portals of the morn, 
 The general breeze,* to mitigate his fire, 
 And breathe refreshment on a fainting world. 
 Great are the scenes, with dreadful beauty crown'd 
 And barbarous wealth, that see, each circling year, 
 Returning suns and double seasons t pass : 
 Rocks rich in gems, and mountains big with mines, 
 That on the high equator ridgy rise, 
 Whence many a bursting stream auriferous plays : 
 Majestic woods, of every vigorous green, 
 Stage above stage, high waving o'er the hills ; 
 
 * Which blows constantly between the tropics from the 
 east, or the collateral points, the north-east and south-east : 
 caused by the pressure of the rarified air on that before it, 
 according to the diurnal motion of the sun from east to west. 
 
 t In all climates between the tropics, the sun, as he passes 
 and repasses in his annual motion, is twice a year vertical, 
 which produces this effect. 
 
 F
 
 82 TUB SEASONS. 
 
 Or to the far horizon wide diffus'd, 
 
 A boundless deep immensity of shade. 
 
 Here lofty trees, to ancient song unknown, 
 
 The noble sous of potent heat and floods 
 
 Prone-rushing from the clouds, rear high to heaven 
 
 Their thorny stems, and broad around them throw 
 
 Meridian gloom. Here, in eternal prime, 
 
 Unnumber'd fruits of keen delicious taste 
 
 And vital spirit, drink amid the cliffo, 
 
 And burning sands that bank the shrubby vales, 
 
 Redoubled day, yet in their rugged coats 
 
 A friendly juice to cool its rage contain. 
 
 Bear me, Pomona ! to thy citron groves ; 
 To where the lemon and the piercing lime, 
 With the deep orange, glowing through the green, 
 Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclin'd 
 Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes, 
 Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit. 
 Deep in the night the massy locust sheds, 
 Quench my hot limbs ; or lead me through the maze, 
 Embowering endless, of the Indian fig ; 
 Or thrown at gayer ease, on some fair brow, 
 Let me behold, by breezy murmurs cool'd, 
 Broad o'er my head the verdant cedar wave, 
 And high palmetos lift their graceful shade. 
 Or stretch'd amid these orchards of the sun, 
 Give me to drain the cocoa's milky bowl, 
 An-1 from the palm to draw it* freshening wine ! 
 More bounteous far than all the frantic jui< ,
 
 8UMMKR. 83 
 
 Which Bacchus pours. Nor, on its slender twigs 
 Low-bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd ; 
 Nor, creeping through the woods, the gelid race 
 Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells 
 Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp. 
 Witness, thou best Anana, thou the pride 
 Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er 
 The poets imag'd in the golden age : 
 Quick let me strip thee of thy tufty coat, 
 Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove ! 
 
 From these the prospect varies. Plains immense 
 Lie stretch'd below, interminable meads, 
 And vast savannahs, where the wandering eye, 
 Unfixt, is in a verdant ocean lost. 
 Another Flora there of bolderTuies, 
 And richer sweets, beyond our garden's pride, 
 Plays o'er the fields, and showers with sudden hand 
 Exuberant spring : for oft these valleys shift 
 Their green-embroider'd robe to fiery brown, 
 And swift to green again, as scorching suns, 
 Or streaming dews and torrent rains, prevail. 
 
 Along these lonely regions, where retired, 
 From little sceues of art, great Nature dwells 
 In awful solitude, and nought is seen 
 But the wild herds that own no master's stall, 
 Prodigious rivers roll their fattening seas : 
 On whose luxuriant herbage, half-conceal'd, 
 Like a fallen cedar, far diffus'd his train, 
 Cas'd in green scales, the crocodile extends.
 
 84 THE SEASONS. 
 
 The flood dispart* : behold ! in plaited mail, 
 Behemoth * rears his head. Glanc'd from his side, 
 Tin- darted steel in idle shivers flies : 
 He fearless walks the plain, or seeks the hills ; 
 Where, as lie crops his varied fare, the herds, 
 In widening circle round, forget their food, 
 And at the harmless stranger wondering gaze. 
 
 Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that cast 
 Their ample shade o'er Niger's yellow stream, 
 And where the Ganges rolls his sacred wave ; 
 Or mid the central depth of blackening woods, 
 High-rais'd in solemn theatre around, 
 Leans the huge elepliant : wisest of brutes ! 
 O tnily wise ! with gentle might endow'd, 
 
 / Though powerful, not destructive ! here he sees 
 Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth, 
 
 ] And empires rise and fall ; regardless he 
 Of what the never-resting race of men 
 Project : thrice happy ! could he scape their guile, 
 Who mine, from cruel avarice, his steps ; 
 Or with hix towery grandeur swell their state, 
 The pride of kings ! or else his strength ix.'rvert, 
 And bid him rage amid the mortal fray, 
 AHtonish'd at the madness of mankind. 
 
 Wide o'er the winding umbrage of the floods, 
 Like vivid blossoms glowing fr>m afar, 
 Thick swarm tin- brighter birds. For Natmv's han.1, 
 That with a s|Kirtivc vanity has deckM 
 
 * The Hi]>iio|K>UmuN, or river-hone.
 
 SUMMER. 86 
 
 The plumy nations, there her gayest hues 
 Profusely pours.* But, if she bids them shine, 
 Array'd in all the beauteous beams of day, 
 Yet frugal still, she humbles them in song. 
 Nor envy we the gaudy robes they lent v 
 
 Proud Montezuma's realm, whose legions cast 
 A boundless radiance waving on the sun, 
 While Philomel is ours ; while in our shades, 
 Through the soft silence of the listening night, 
 The sober-suited songstress trills her lay. 
 
 But come, my Muse, the desert-barrier burst, 
 A wild expanse of lifeless sand and sky : 
 And, swifter than the toiling caravan, 
 Shoot o'er the vale of Sennar ; ardent climb 
 The Nubian mountains, and the secret bounds 
 Of jealous Abyssinia boldly pierce. 
 Thou art no ruffian, who beneath the mask 
 Of social commerce com'st to rob their wealth ; 
 No holy fury thou, blaspheming Heaven, 
 With consecrated steel to stab their peace, 
 And through the land, yet red from civil wounds, 
 To spread the purple tyranny of Rome. 
 Thou, like the harmless bee, may'st freely range, 
 From mead to mead bright with exalted flowers, 
 From jasmine grove to grove, may'st wander gay, 
 Through palmy shades and aromatic woods, 
 
 * In all the regions of the torrid zone, the birds, though 
 more beautiful in their plumage, are observed to be less 
 melodious than ours.
 
 >: THB SEASONS. 
 
 That grace the plains, invest the peopled hills, 
 And up the more than Alpine mountains wave. 
 There on the breezy summit, spreading fair, 
 For many a league ; or on stupendous rocks, 
 That from the sun-redoubling valley lift, 
 Cool to the middle air, their lawny tops ; 
 Where palaces, and fanes, and villas rise ; 
 And gardens smile around, and cultur'd fields ; 
 And fountains gush ; and careless herds and flocks 
 Securely stray ; a world within itself, 
 Disdaining all assault : there let me draw 
 Ethereal soul, there drink reviving gales, 
 Profusely breathing from the spicy groves, 
 And vales of fragrance ; there at distance hear 
 The roaring floods, and cataracts, that sweep 
 From disembowel'd earth the virgin gold ; 
 And o'er the varied landscape, restless, rove, 
 Fervent with life of every fairer kind : 
 A land of wonders ! which the RUM still eyes 
 With ray direct, as of the lovely realm 
 Enamour'd, and delighting there to dwell. 
 
 How chang'd the scene I in blazing height of noon, 
 The sun, oppress'd, is plung'd in thickest gloom. 
 Still horror reigns, a dreary twilight round, 
 Of struggling night and day malignant mix'd. 
 For to the hot equator crowding fast, 
 Where, highly rarefied, the yielding air 
 Admit* their stream, incessant vapours roll, 
 Amazing cloud* on clouds .nt inual heap'd ;
 
 SUMMER. 87 
 
 Or whirl'd tempestuous by the gusty wind, 
 
 Or silent borne along, heavy, and slow, 
 
 With the big stores of steaming oceans charg'd. 
 
 Meantime, amid these upper seas, condens'd 
 
 Around the cold aerial mountain's brow, 
 
 And by conflicting winds together dash'd, 
 
 The Thunder holds his black tremendous throne ; 
 
 From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage ; 
 
 Till, in the furious elemental war 
 
 Dissolv'd, the whole precipitated mass 
 
 Unbroken floods and solid torrents pours. 
 
 The treasures these, hid from the bounded search 
 Of ancient knowledge ; whence, with annual pomp, 
 Rich king of floods ! o'erflows the swelling Nile. 
 From his two springs, in Go jam's sunny realm, 
 Pure-welling out, he through the lucid lake 
 Of fair Dambea rolls his infant stream. 
 There, by the naiads nurs'd, he sports away 
 His playful youth, amid the fragrant isles, 
 That with unfading verdure smile around. 
 Ambitious, thence the manly river breaks ; 
 And gathering many a flood, and copious fed 
 With all the mellow'd treasures of the sky, 
 Winds in progressive majesty along : 
 Through splendid kingdoms now devolves his maze, 
 Now wanders wild o'er solitary tracts 
 Of life-deserted sand ; till, glad to quit 
 The joyless desert, down the Nubian rocks 
 From thundering steep to steep, he pours his urn,
 
 S> THE SRA8OKS. 
 
 And Egypt joys beneath the spreading wave. 
 
 His brother Niger too, and all the floods 
 In which the full-form'd maids of Afric lave 
 Their jetty limbs ; and all that from the tract 
 Of woody mountains stretch'd through gorgeous Ind 
 Fall on Connandel's coast, or Malalwu- ; 
 From Meuam's* orient stream, that nightly shines 
 With insect-lamps, to where Aurora sheds 
 On Indus' smiling banks the rosy shower : 
 All at this bounteous season, ope their urns, 
 And pour untoiliug liarvest o'er the land. 
 
 Nor less thy world, Columbus, drinks, refrosh'd, 
 The lavish moisture of the melting year. 
 Wide o'er his isles, the branching Oronoque 
 Rolls a brown deluge ; and the native drives 
 To dwell aloft on life-sufficing trees, 
 At once his dome, his robe, his food, and arms. 
 Swell'd by a thousand streams, im]>etuou8 hurl'. I 
 From all the roaring Andes, huge desivmls 
 Tin- mighty Orellana.t Scarce the Muse 
 Dares stretch her wing o'er this enormous mass 
 Of rushing water ; scarce she dares attempt 
 The sea-like Plata ; to whose diva.l - \]>an^i\ 
 CoiitinuouM depth, Jiml woiiiln.us length of course, 
 Our floods are rills. With unabated force, 
 
 * The river that run* through Siam ; on whose banka a vast 
 multitude of thoe insect*, called Fire Plied, make a beautiful 
 appearance in the night. 
 
 t The river of the Amiuoim.
 
 SUMMER. 89 
 
 Iii silent dignity they sweep along, 
 
 And traverse realms unknown, and blooming wilds, 
 
 And fruitful deserts, worlds of solitude, 
 
 Where the sun smiles and seasons teem in vain, 
 
 Unseen, and unenjoy'd. Forsaking these, 
 
 O'er peopled plains they fair-diffusive flow, 
 
 And many a nation feed, and circle safe, 
 
 In their soft bosom, many a happy isle ; 
 
 The seat of blameless Pan, yet undisturb'd 
 
 By Christian crimes and Europe's cruel sons. 
 
 Thus pouring on they proudly seek the deep, 
 
 Whose vanquish'd tide, recoiling from the shock, 
 
 Yields to the liquid weight of half the globe ; 
 
 And Ocean trembles for his green domain. 
 
 But what avails this wondrous waste of wealth 1 
 This gay profusion of luxurious bliss ? 
 This pomp of Nature ? what their balmy meads, 
 Their powerful herbs, and Ceres void of pain ? 
 By vagrant birds dispers'd, and wafting winds, 
 What their implanted fruits ? what the cool draughts, 
 Th' ambrosial food, rich gums, and spicy health, 
 Their forests yield ? their toiling insects what, 
 Their silky pride, and vegetable robes ? 
 Ah ! what avail their fatal treasures, hid 
 Deep in the bowels of the pitying earth, 
 Golconda's gems, and sad Potosi's mines ; 
 Where dwelt the gentlest children of the sun ? 
 What all that Afric's golden rivers roll, 
 Her odorous woods, and shining ivory stores ?
 
 90 TUB SEASONS. 
 
 Ill-fated race ! the softening arts of Peace, 
 Whate'er the humanizing Muses teach ; 
 The godlike wisdom of the temper'd breast ; 
 Progressive truth, the patient force of thought ; 
 Investigation calm, whose silent powers 
 Command the world ; the light that leads to heaven ; 
 Kind equal rule, the government of laws, 
 And all-protecting Freedom, which alone 
 Sustains the name and dignity of man : 
 These are not theirs. The parent-sun himself 
 Seems o'er this world of slaves to tyrannize ; 
 And with oppressive ray, the roseate bloom 
 Of beauty blasting, gives the gloomy hue, 
 And feature gross : or worse, to ruthless deeds, 
 Mad jealousy, blind rage, and fell revenge, 
 Their fervid spirit fires. Love dwells not there, 
 The soft regards, the tenderness of life, 
 The heart-shed tear, th' ineffable delight 
 Of sweet humanity : these court the beam 
 Of milder climes ; in selfish fierce desire, 
 And the wild fury of voluptuous sense, 
 There lost. The very brute-creation there 
 This rage partakes, and burns with horrid fire. 
 Lo I the green serpent, from his dark abode, 
 Which even Imagination fears to tread, 
 At noon forth-issuing, gathers up his train 
 In orbs immense, then, darting out anew, 
 Seeks the refreshing fount ; by which diffus'd, 
 He throws his folds ; and while, with threat'ning tongue,
 
 SUMMER. 91 
 
 And deathful jaws erect, the monster curls 
 
 His flaming crest, all other thirst appall'd, 
 
 Or shivering flies, or check'd at distance stands, 
 
 Nor dares approach. But still more direful he, 
 
 The small close-lurking minister of fate, 
 
 Whose high- concocted vemon through the veins 
 
 A rapid lightning darts, arresting swift 
 
 The vital current. Form'd to humble man, 
 
 This child of vengeful Nature ! there, sublim'd 
 
 To fearless lust of blood, the savage race 
 
 Roam, licens'd by the shading hour of guilt, 
 
 And foul misdeed, when the pure day has shut 
 
 His sacred eye. The tiger darting fierce 
 
 Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd : 
 
 The lively-shining leopard, speekled o'er 
 
 With many a spot, the beauty of the waste ; 
 
 And, scorning all the taming arts of man, 
 
 The keen hyena, fellest of the fell. 
 
 These, rushing from th' inhospitable woods 
 
 Of Mauritania, or the tufted isles 
 
 That verdant rise amid the Lybian wild, 
 
 Innumerous glare around their shaggy king, 
 
 Majestic, stalking o'er the printed sand ; 
 
 And, with imperious and repeated roars, 
 
 Demand their fated food. The fearful flocks 
 
 Crowd near the guardian swain ; the nobler herds, 
 
 Where round their lordly bull, in rural ease, 
 
 They ruminating lie, with horror hear 
 
 The coming rage. Th' awaken'd village starts ;
 
 92 THE SEASONS. 
 
 And to her fluttering breast the mother strains 
 Her thoughtless infant. From the pirate's den, 
 Or stern Morocco's tyrant fang escap'd, 
 The wretch half-wishes for his bouds again : 
 While, uproar all, the wilderness resounds, 
 From Atlas eastward to the frighted Nile. 
 
 Unhappy he ! who from the first of joys, 
 Society, cut off, is left alone 
 Amid this world of death. Day after day, 
 Sad on the jutting eminence he sits, 
 And views the main tlxat ever toils below ; 
 Still fondly forming in the furthest verge, 
 "Where the round ether mixes with the wave, 
 Ships, dim-discover'd, dropping from the clouds ; 
 At evening, to the setting sun he turns 
 A mournful eye, and down his dying heart 
 Sinks helpless ; while the wonted roar is up, 
 And hiss continual through the tedious night. 
 Yet here, ev'n here, into these black alxxles 
 Of monsters, uuappaU'd, from stooping Rome, 
 And guilty Caesar, Liberty retir'd, 
 Her Cato following through Nuinidian wilds : 
 Disdainful of Campania's gentle plains, 
 And all the green delights Ausonia pouro ; 
 When for them nhe must bend the servile knee, 
 A n. I fawning take the splendid robber's boon. 
 
 Nor stop the terrors of these regions here. 
 < 'miiiiiH*i.n'd di'inutiH oft, angels of wrath, 
 I., t U>M4> the raging i-l.-nu-nts. lircnth'd hot
 
 SUMMER. 93 
 
 From all the boundless furnace of the sky, 
 
 And the wide glittering waste of burning sand, 
 
 A suffocating wind the pilgrim smites 
 
 With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil, 
 
 Son of the desert ! even the camel feels, 
 
 Shot through his withered heart the fiery blast. 
 
 Or from the black -red ether, bursting broad, 
 
 Sallies the sudden whirlwind. Straight the sands, 
 
 Commov'd around, in gathering eddies play : 
 
 Nearer and nearer still they darkening come ; 
 
 Till, with the general all-involving storm 
 
 Swept up, the whole continuous wilds arise : 
 
 And by their noon-day fount dejected thrown, 
 
 Or sunk at night in sad disastrous sleep 
 
 Beneath descending hills, the caravan 
 
 Is buried deep. In Cairo's crowded streets, 
 
 Th' impatient merchant, wondering, waits in vain, 
 
 And Mecca saddens at the long delay. 
 
 But chief at sea, whose every flexile wave 
 Obeys the blast, the aerial tumult swells. 
 In the dread ocean, undulating wide, 
 Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe, 
 The circling Typhon,* whirl'd from point to point, 
 Exhausting all the rage of all the sky, 
 And dire Ecnephia* reign. Amid the heavens, 
 Falsely serene, deep in a cloudy speck t 
 
 * Typhon and Ecnephia, names of particular storms or 
 hurricanes, known only between the tropics. 
 
 t Called by sailors the Ox-eye, being in appearance at first 
 no bigger.
 
 94 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Compress'd, the mighty tempest brooding dwells : 
 
 Of no regard, aave to the skilful eye, 
 
 Fiery and foul, the small prognostic hangs 
 
 Aloft, or on the promontory's brow 
 
 Musters its force. A faint deceitful calm, 
 
 A fluttering gale, the demon sends before, 
 
 To tempt the spreading sail Then down at once, 
 
 Precipitant, descends a mingled mass 
 
 Of roaring winds, and flame, and rushing floods. 
 
 In wild amazement fix'd the sailor stands. 
 
 Art is too slow : by rapid fate oppress'd, 
 
 His broad-winged vessel drinks the whelming tide, 
 
 Hid in the bosom of the black abyss. 
 
 With such mad seas the daring Gama* fought, 
 
 For many a day, and many a dreadful night, 
 
 Incessant, labouring round the stormy Cape ; 
 
 By bold ambition led, and bolder thirst 
 
 Of gold. For then from ancient gloom emergM 
 
 Tin- rising world of trade : the Genius, then, 
 
 Of navigation, that, in hopeless sloth, 
 
 Had slumber'd on the vast Atlantic deep, 
 
 For idle ages, starting, heard at last 
 
 The Lusitanian Prince ;t who, Heav'n-inspir'd, 
 
 To love of useful glory rous'd mankind, 
 
 VMOO de Gama, the first who sailed round Africa by the 
 Cape of Good Hope, to the Eaat Indie*. 
 
 t Don Henry, third son to John the Firt, King of Portugal. 
 HU strong genius to the discovery of new countries wa* tin- 
 chief source of all the modern improvements in navigation.
 
 SUMMER. 95 
 
 And in unbounded commerce mix'd the world. 
 
 Increasing still the terrors of these storms, 
 His jaws horrific arm'd with threefold fate, 
 Here dwells the direful shark. Lur'd by the scent 
 Of steaming crowds, of rank disease, and death, 
 Behold ! he rushing cuts the briny flood, 
 Swift as the gale can bear the ship along ; 
 And, from the partners of that cruel trade, 
 Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons, 
 Demands his share of prey ; demands themselves. 
 The stormy fates descend : one death involves 
 Tyrants and slaves ; when straight, their mangled limbs 
 .Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas 
 iWith gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. 
 
 When o'er this world, by equinoctial rains 
 Flooded immense, looks out the joyless sun, 
 And draws the copious steam : from swampy fens, 
 Where putrefaction into life ferments, 
 And breathes destructive myriads : or from woods, 
 Impenetrable shades, recesses foul, 
 In vapours rank and blue corruption wrapt, 
 Whose gloomy horrors yet no desperate foot 
 Has ever dar'd to pierce ; then, wasteful, forth 
 Walks the dire Power of pestilent disease. 
 A thousand hideous fiends her course attend, 
 Sick Nature blasting, and to heartless woe, 
 And feeble desolation, casting down 
 The towering hopes and all the pride of Man. 
 Such, as of late, at Carthagena quench'd
 
 96 nil. SEASONS. 
 
 The British fire. You, gallant Veruoii, saw 
 The miserable scene ; you, pitying, saw 
 To infant- weakness sunk the warrior's arm ; 
 Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghastly form, 
 The lip pale-quivering, and the beamless eye 
 No more with ardour bright : you heard the groans 
 Of agonizing ships, from shore to shore ; 
 Heard, nightly plungM amid the sullen waves, 
 The frequent corse ; while on each other fix'd, 
 In sad presage, the blank assistants seem'd, 
 Silent, to ask, whom Fate would next demand. 
 What need I mention those inclement skies, 
 Where, frequent o'er the sickening city, Plague, 
 The fiercest child of Nemesis divine, 
 Descends ? From Ethiopia's poisoii'd woods, 
 From stifled Cairo's filth, and fetid fields 
 With locust-armies putrifying heap'd, 
 This threat destroyer sprung. Her awful rage 
 The brutes escape : Man in JUT dcstin'd pivv, 
 Intemperate Man 1 and, o'er his guilty domes, 
 She draws a close incumbent cloud of death ; 
 Uninterrupted by the living winds, 
 Forbid to blow a wholesome breeze ; and stain'd 
 With many a mixture by the sun, sutfus'd, 
 Of angry aspect. Princely wisdom, thru, 
 Dejects his watchful eye ; and from the hand 
 Of feeble justice, ineffectual, drop 
 Tin- sword and balance : uiute the voice of joy, 
 And hunli'd the clamour of the busy world.
 
 SUMMER. 97 
 
 Empty the streets, with uncouth verdure clad ; 
 
 Into the worst of deserts sudden turn'd 
 
 The cheerful haunt of men ; unless escap'd 
 
 From the doom'd house, where matchless horror reigns, 
 
 Shut up by barbarous fear, the smitten wretch, 
 
 With frenzy wild, breaks loose; and, loud to Heaven 
 
 Screaming, the dreadful policy arraigns, 
 
 Inhuman, and unwise. The sullen door, 
 
 Yet uninfected, on its cautious hinge 
 
 Fearing to turn, abhors society : 
 
 Dependants, friends, relations, Love himself, 
 
 Savag"d by woe, forget the tender tie, 
 
 The sweet engagement of the feeling heart. 
 
 But vain their selfish care : the circling sky, 
 
 The wide enlivening air is full of fate ; 
 
 And, struck by turns, in solitary pangs 
 
 They fall, unblest, untended, and unmourn'd. 
 
 Thus o'er the prostrate city black Despair 
 
 Extends her raven wing : while, to complete 
 
 The scene of desolation, stretch'd around, 
 
 The grim guards stand, denying all retreat, 
 
 And give the flying wretch a better death. 
 
 Much yet remains unsung : the rage intense 
 Of brazen-vaulted skies, of iron fields, 
 Where drought and famine starve the blasted year : 
 Fir'd by the torch of noon to tenfold rage, 
 Th' infuriate hill that shoots the pillar'd flame ; 
 And, rous'd within the subterranean world, 
 Th 1 expanding earthquake, that resistless shakes
 
 96 rn K SEASONS. 
 
 Aspiring cities from their solid base, 
 And buries mountains in the flaming gulf. 
 But 'tis enough ; return my vagrant Muse : 
 A nearer scene of horror calls thee home. 
 
 Behold, slow-settling o'er the lurid grove 
 Unusual darkness broods ; and growing gains 
 The full possession of the sky, surcharg'd 
 With wrathful vapour, from the secret beds, 
 Where sleep the mineral generations, drawn. 
 Thence nitre, sulphur, and the fiery spume 
 Of fat bitumen, steaming on the day, 
 With various- tinctur'd trains of latent flame, 
 Pollute the sky, and in yon baleful cloud, 
 A reddening gloom, a magazine of fate, 
 Ferment ; till, by the touch ethereal rous'd, 
 The dash of clouds, or irritating war 
 Of fighting winds, while all is calm below, 
 They furious spring. A boding silence reigns, 
 Dread through the dun expanse ; save the dull sound 
 That from the mountain, previous to the storm, 
 Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood, 
 And shake* the forest-leaf without a breath. 
 Prone, to the lowest vale, the aerial tribes 
 Descend : the tempest-loving raven scarce 
 Darea wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze 
 The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens 
 Gut a deploring eye; by man forsook, 
 Who to the crowded cottage hies him fast, 
 Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave.
 
 SUMMER. 99 
 
 'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all : 
 When to the starled eye the sudden glance 
 Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud ; 
 And following slower, in explosion vast, 
 The Thunder raises his tremendous voice. 
 At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven, 
 The tempest growls ; but as it nearer comes, 
 And rolls its awful burden on the wind, 
 The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more 
 The noise astounds : till over head a sheet 
 Of livid flame discloses wide ; then shuts, 
 And opens wider ; shuts and opens still 
 Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. 
 Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar, 
 Enlarging, deepening, mingling ; peal on peal 
 Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth. 
 
 Down comes a deluge of sonorous hail, 
 Or prone-descending rain. Wide-rent, the clouds 
 Pour a whole flood ; and yet, its flame unquench'd, 
 Th' unconquerable lightning struggles through, 
 Ragged and fierce, or in red whirling balls, 
 And fires the mountains with redoubled rage. 
 Black from the stroke, above, the smould'ring pine 
 Stands a sad shattered trunk ; and stretch'd below, 
 A lifeless group the blasted cattle lie : 
 Here the soft flocks, with that same harmless look 
 They wore alive, and ruminating still 
 In fancy's eye ; and there the frowning bull, 
 And ox half-rais'd. Struck on the castled cliff,
 
 100 T1IK SEASONS. 
 
 The venerable tower and spiry fane 
 Resign their aged pride. The gloomy woods 
 Start at the flash, and from their deep recess, 
 Wide-flaming out, their trembling inmates shake. 
 Amid Carnarvon's mountains rages loud 
 The repercussive roar : with mighty crush, 
 Into the flashing deep, from the rude rocks 
 Of Penmanmaur heap'd hideous to the sky, 
 Tumble the smitten cliffs ; and Snowden's peak, 
 Dissolving, instant yields his wintry load. 
 Far seen, the heights of heathy Cheviot blaze, 
 And Thulft bellows through her utmost isles. 
 
 < ; uilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought. 
 And yet not always on the guilty head 
 Descends the fated flash. Young Celadon 
 And his Amelia were a matchless pair ; 
 With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace, 
 The same, distinguish'd by their sex alone : 
 Hera the mild lustre of the blooming morn, 
 And his the radiance of the risen day. 
 
 They lov'd : but such the guileless passion was, 
 As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart 
 Of innocence, and undissembling truth. 
 TWM friendship, heighten'd by the mutual wish, 
 Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow, 
 Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all 
 To love, each was to each a dearer self ; 
 Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power 
 Of pivinj? joy. Alone, amid the shades,
 
 SUMMKR. 101 
 
 Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'd 
 The rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart, 
 Or sigh'd and look'd unutterable things. 
 
 So pass'd their life, a clear united stream, 
 By care unruffled ; till, in evil hour, 
 The tempest caught them on the tender walk, 
 Heedless how far and where its mazes stray'd, 
 While, with each other blest, creative love 
 Still bade eternal Eden smile around. 
 Presaging instant fate her bosom heav'd 
 Unwonted sighs, and stealing oft a look 
 Of the big gloom, on Celadon her eye 
 Fell tearful, wetting her disorder'd cheek. 
 In vain assuring love, and confidence 
 In Heaven, repress'd her fear ; it grew, and shook 
 Her frame near dissolution. He perceiv'd 
 Th' unequal conflict ; and as angels look 
 On dying saints, his eyes compassion shed, 
 With love illumin'd high. " Fear not," he said, 
 " Sweet innocence ! thou stranger to offence, 
 And inward storm ! He, who yon skies involves 
 In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee 
 With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft 
 That wastes at midnight, or th' undreaded hour 
 Of noon, flies harmless : and that very voice, 
 Which thunders terror through the guilty heart, 
 With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine. 
 'Tis safety to be near thee sure, and thus 
 To clasp perfection ! " From his void embrace,
 
 102 THE SEASONS. 
 
 (Mysterious Heaven !) that moment, to the ground, 
 A blackeu'd corse, was struck the beauteous maid. 
 But who can paint the lover, as he stood, 
 Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life, 
 Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of woe ! 
 So, faint resemblance ! on the marble tomb, 
 The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands, 
 For ever silent and for ever sad. 
 
 As from the face of heaven the shatter'd clouds 
 Tumultuous rove, th' interminable sky 
 Sublimer swells, and o'er the world expands 
 A purerazurel Through the lighten *d air 
 A higher lustre and a clearer calm, 
 Diffusive tremble ; while, as if in sign 
 Of danger past, a glittering robe of joy, 
 Set off abundant by the yellow ray, 
 Invests the fields ; and Nature smiles reviv'd. 
 
 Tis beauty all, and grateful song around, 
 Join'd to the low of kine, and numerous bleat 
 Of flocks thick-nibbling through the clover"d vale. 
 And shall the hymn be marr'd by thankless Man, 
 Most-favour'd ! who with voice articulate 
 Should lead the chorus of this lower world ; 
 Shall he, so soon forgetful of the Hand 
 That hush'd the thunder, and serenes the sky, 
 Extinguish^! feel that spark the tempest wak'd, 
 That sense of powers exceeding far his own, 
 Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears ? 
 
 Cheer"d by the milder beam, the sprightly youth
 
 SUMMER. 103 
 
 Speeds to the well-known pool, whose crystal depth 
 
 A sandy bottom shows. Awhile he stands 
 
 Gazing th' inverted landscape, half afraid 
 
 To meditate the blue profound below ; 
 
 Then plunges headlong down the circling flood. 
 
 His ebon tresses and his rosy cheek 
 
 Instant emerge ; and through th' obedient wave, 
 
 At each short breathing by his lip repell'd, 
 
 With amis and legs according well, he makes, 
 
 As humour leads, an easy- winding path ; 
 
 While from his polish'd sides, a dewy light 
 
 Effuses on the pleas'd spectators round. 
 
 This is the purest exercise of health, 
 The kind refresher of the summer-heats ; 
 Nor when cold Winter keens the brightening flood, 
 Would I weak- shivering linger on the brink. 
 Thus life redoubles, and is oft preserv'd, 
 By the bold swimmer, in the swift elapse 
 Of accident disastrous. Hence the limbs 
 Knit into force ; and the same Roman arm, 
 That rose victorious o'er the conquer'd earth, 
 First learn'd, while tender, to subdue the wave. 
 Even from the body's purity, the mind 
 Receives a secret sympathetic aid. 
 
 Close in the covert of a hazel copse, 
 Where winded into pleasing solitudes 
 Runs out the rambling dale, young Damon sat, 
 Pensive, and pierc'd with love's delightful pangs. 
 There to the stream that down the distant rocks
 
 104 THK SEASONS. 
 
 Hoarse-murmuring fell, and plaintive breeze tliat play'd 
 
 Among the bending willows, falsely he 
 
 Of Musidora's cruelty complain'd. 
 
 She felt his flame ; but deep within her breast 
 
 In bashful coyness, or in maiden pride, 
 
 The soft return conceal'd ; save when it stole 
 
 In sidelong glances from her downcast eye, 
 
 Or from her swelling soul in stifled sighs. 
 
 Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to his vows, 
 
 He fram'd a melting lay, to try her heart ; 
 
 And, if an infant passion struggled there, 
 
 To call that passion forth. Thrice happy swain ! 
 
 A lucky chance, that oft decides Ttluffate 
 
 Of mighty monarchs, then decided thine. 
 
 For lo ! conducted by the laughing Loves, 
 
 This cool retreat his Musidora sought: 
 
 Warm in her cheek the sultry season glow'd ; 
 
 And, rob'd in loose array, she came to bathe 
 
 Her fervent limbs in the refreshing stream. 
 
 What shall he do ? In sweet confusion lost, 
 
 And dubious flutterings, he awhile remain'd : 
 
 A pure ingenuous elegance of soul, 
 
 A delicate refinement, known to few, 
 
 Perplex'd his breast, and urg'd him to retire : 
 
 But love forbade. Ye prudes in virtue, say, 
 
 Say, ye severest, what would you have done ? 
 
 Meantime, this fairer nymph than ever blest 
 
 Arcadian stream, with timid eye around 
 
 The bank* surveying, stripp'd her Ixyuiteous limbs,
 
 SUMMER. 105 
 
 To taste the lucid coolness of the flood. 
 
 Ah then ! not Paris on the piny top 
 
 Of Ida panted stronger, when aside 
 
 The rival-goddesses the veil divine 
 
 Cast unconfin'd, and gave him all their charms, 
 
 Than, Damon, thou ; as from the snowy leg, 
 
 And slender foot, th' inverted silk she drew ; 
 
 As the soft touch dissolv'd the virgin zone ; 
 
 And, through the parting robe, th' alternate breast, 
 
 With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze 
 
 In full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth, 
 
 How durst thou risk the soul-distracting view ; 
 
 As from her naked limbs, of glowing white, 
 
 Harmonious swell'd by Nature's finest hand, 
 
 In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn ; 
 
 And fair-expos'd she stood, shrunk from herself, 
 
 With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breeze 
 
 Alarm'd, and starting like the fearful fawn ? 
 
 Then to the flood she rush'd ; the parted flood 
 
 Its lovely guest with closing waves receiv'd ; 
 
 And every beauty softening, every grace 
 
 Flushing anew, a mellow lustre shed : 
 
 As shines the lily through the crystal mild ; 
 
 Or as the rose amid the morning dew, 
 
 Fresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows. 
 
 While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the wave 
 
 But ill-concealed ; and now with streaming locks 
 
 That half-embrac'd her in a humid veil, 
 
 Rising again, the latent Damon drew
 
 106 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Such mad'uing draughts of beauty to the soul, 
 
 As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thought 
 
 With luxury too-daring. Check'd at last, 
 
 By loves respectful modesty, he deemed 
 
 The theft profane, if aught profane to love 
 
 Can e'er be deemed ; and, struggling from the shade, 
 
 With headlong hurry fled : but first these lines, 
 
 Trac'd by his ready pencil, on the bank 
 
 With trembling hand he threw : " Bathe on, my fair 
 
 Yet unbeheld save by the sacred eye 
 
 Of faitliful love : I go to guard thy haunt, 
 
 To keep from thy recess each vagrant foot, 
 
 And each licentious eye." With wild surprise, 
 
 As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, 
 
 A stupid moment motionless she stood : 
 
 So stands the statue* that enchants the world, 
 
 So bending tries to veil the matchless boast, 
 
 The mingled beauties of exulting Greece. 
 
 Recovering, swift she flew to find those robes 
 
 Which blissful Eden knew not ; and array'.! 
 
 In careless haute, tli' alarming paper suatch'd. 
 
 But when her Damon's well-known hand she saw, 
 
 Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer train 
 
 Of mi x t emotions, hard to be describ'd, 
 
 Her sudden bosom seiz'd : shame void of guilt, 
 
 The charming blush of innocence, esteem, 
 
 And admiration of her lover's flame, 
 
 By modesty exalted : even a sense 
 
 * The Venus of Medici.
 
 SUMMER. 107 
 
 Of self -approving beauty stole across 
 Her busy thought. At length, a tender calm 
 Hush'd by degrees the tumult of her soul ; 
 And on the spreading beech, that o'er the stream 
 Incumbent hung, she with the sylvan pen 
 Of rural lovers this confession carv'd, 
 Which soon her Damon kiss'd with weeping joy : 
 " Dear youth ! sole judge of what these verses mean, 
 By fortune too much favour'd, but by love, 
 Alas ! not favour'd less, be still as now 
 Discreet ; the time may come you need not fly." 
 The sun has lost his rage : his downward orb 
 Shootsnothing now but animating warmth. 
 And vital lustre ; that, with various ray, 
 Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of heaven, 
 Incessant roll'd into romantic shapes, 
 The dream of waking fancy ! broad below, 
 Cover'd with ripening fruits, and swelling fast 
 Into the perfect year, the pregnant earth 
 And all her tribes rejoice. Now the soft hour 
 Of walking comes : for him who lonely loves 
 To seek the distant hills, and there converse 
 With Nature ; there to harmonize his heart, 
 And in pathetic song to breathe around 
 The harmony to others. Social friends, 
 Attun'd to happy unison of soul ; 
 To whose exalting eye a fairer world, 
 Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse, 
 Displays its charms ; whose minds are richly fraught
 
 108 THE SEASONS. 
 
 With philosophic stores, superior light ; 
 
 And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns 
 
 Virtue, the sons of interest deem romance ; 
 
 Now call'd abroad enjoy the falling day : 
 
 Now to the verdant Portico of woods, 
 
 To Nature's vast Lyceum, forth they walk ; 
 
 By that kind School where no proud master reigns, 
 
 The full free converse of the friendly heart, 
 
 Improving and improved. Now from the world, 
 
 Sacred to sweet retirement, lovers steal, 
 
 And pour their souls in transport, which the Sire 
 
 Of love approving hears, and calls it good. 
 
 Which way, Amanda, shall we bend our course ? 
 
 The choice perplexes. Wherefore should we choose ? 
 
 All is the same with thee. Say, shall we wind 
 
 Along the streams ? or walk the smiling mead ? 
 
 Or court the forest glades ? or wander wild 
 
 Among the waving harvests ? or ascend, 
 
 While radiant Summer o]>ens all its pride, 
 
 Thy hill, delightful Shene ?* Here let us sweep 
 
 The boundless landscape : now the raptur'd eye, 
 
 Exulting swift, to huge Augusta send, 
 
 Now to the fSister-IIills that skirt her plain, 
 
 To lofty Harrow now, and now to where 
 
 Majestic Windsor lifts his princely brow. 
 
 In lovely contrast to this glorious view 
 
 The old name of Richmond, signifying in Saxon, Shining, 
 or Splendour, 
 t Highgat* and
 
 SUMMER. 109 
 
 Calmly magnificent, then will we turn 
 
 To where the silver Thames first rural grows. 
 
 There let the feasted eye unwearied stray : 
 
 Luxurious, there, rove through the pendent woods 
 
 That nodding hang o'er Harrington's retreat ; 
 
 And, stooping thence to Ham's embowering walks, 
 
 Beneath whose shades, in spotless peace retired, 
 
 With Her the pleasing partner of his heart, 
 
 The worthy Queensb'ry yet laments his Gray, 
 
 And polish'd Cornbury wooes the willing Muse, 
 
 Slow let us trace the matchless Vale of Thames ; 
 
 Fair-winding up to where the Muses haunt 
 
 In Twit'uam's bowers, and for their Pope implore 
 
 The healing God ;* to royal Hampton's pile, 
 
 To Clermout's terrass'd height, and Esher's groves, 
 
 Where in the sweetest solitude, embrac'd 
 
 By the soft windings of the silent Mole, 
 
 From courts and senates Pelham finds repose. 
 
 Enchanting vale ! beyond whate'er the Muse 
 
 Has of Achaia or Hesperia sung ! 
 
 O vale of bliss ! O softly-swelling hills ! 
 
 On which the Power of Cultivation lies, 
 
 And joys to see the wonders of his toil. 
 
 Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, 
 Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, 
 And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all 
 The stretching landscape into smoke decays ! 
 Happy Britannia ! where the Queen of Arts, 
 * In his last sickness.
 
 110 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Inspiring vigour, Liberty abroad 
 
 Walks, unconfin'd, even to thy farthest cots 
 
 And scatters plenty with unsparing hand. 
 
 Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime ; 
 Thy streams unfailing in the Summer's drought ; 
 Unmatch'd thy guardian-oaks ; thy valleys float 
 With golden waves : and on thy mountains flocks 
 Bleat numberless ! while, roving round their sides, 
 Bellow the blackening herds in lusty droves. 
 Beneath, thy meadows glow, and rise unquell'd 
 Against the mower's scythe. On every hand 
 Thy villas shine. Thy country teems with wealth ; 
 And property assures it to the swain, 
 Pleas'd, and unwearied, in his guarded toil. 
 
 Full are thy cities with the sons of Art ; 
 And trade and joy, in every busy street, 
 Mingling are heard : t-v'n Drudgery himself, 
 As at the car he sweats, or dusty hews 
 The palace stone, looks gay. Thy crowded ports, 
 Where rising masts an endless prospect yield, 
 With labour burn, and echo to the shouts 
 Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves 
 His last adieu, and loosening every sheet, 
 Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind. 
 
 Bold, firm, and graceful are thy generous youth, 
 By hardship ainew'd, and by danger li r'< 1, 
 Scattering the nations where they go : and first 
 Or on the listed plain, or stormy seas. 
 Mild are thy glories too, as o'er the plans
 
 SUMMER. Ill 
 
 Of thriving peace thy thoughtful sires preside ; 
 In genuis, and substantial learning high ; 
 For every virtue, every worth renown'd ; 
 Sincere, plain-hearted, hospitable, kind ; 
 Yet like the mustering thunder when provok'd, 
 The dread of tyrants, and the sole resource 
 Of those that under grim oppression groan. 
 
 Thy sons of Glory many ! Alfred thine, 
 In whom the splendour of heroic war, 
 And more heroic peace, when govern'd well, 
 Combine ; whose hallow'd name the Virtues saint, 
 And his own Muses love ; the best of kings ! 
 With him thy Edwards and thy Henrys shine, 
 Names dear to fame ; the first who deep impress'd 
 On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms, 
 That awes her genius still. In statesmen thou, 
 And patriots, fertile. Thine a steady More, 
 Who, with a generous though mistaken zeal, 
 Withstood a brutal tyrant's useful rage, 
 Like Cato firm, like Aristides just, 
 Like rigid Cincinnatus nobly poor, 
 A dauntless soul erect, who smiled on death. 
 Frugal and wise, a Walsingham is thine, 
 A Drake, who made thee mistress of the deep, 
 And bore thy name in thunder round the world. 
 Then flam'd thy spirit high : but who can speak 
 The numerous worthies of the Maiden Reign ? 
 In Raleigh mark their every glory mix'd ; 
 Raleigh, the scourge of Spain ! whose breast with all
 
 112 THE SEASONS. 
 
 The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn'd, 
 
 Nor sunk his vigour, when a coward-reign 
 
 The warrior fetter'd, and at last resign'd, 
 
 To glut the vengeance of a vanquish'd foe. 
 
 Then, active still and uurestrain'd, his mind 
 
 Explor'd the vast extent of ages past, 
 
 And with his prison-hours enrich'd the world ; 
 
 Yet found no times, in all the long research, 
 
 So glorious, or so base, as those he proved, 
 
 In which he conquer'd, and in which he bled. 
 
 Nor can the Muse the gallant Sidney pass, 
 
 The plume of war 1 with early laurels crown'd, 
 
 The lover's myrtle, and the poet's bay. 
 
 A Hampden too is thine, illustrious land, 
 
 Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul, 
 
 Who steinm'd the torrent of a downward age 
 
 To slavery prone, and bade thee rise again, 
 
 In all thy native pomp of freedom bold. 
 
 Bright, at his call, thy Age of Men effulg'd, 
 
 Of Men on whom late time a kindling eye 
 
 Shall turn, and tyrants tremble while they read. 
 
 Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew 
 
 The grave where Russell lies ; whose temper'd blood 
 
 With calmest cheerfulness for thee resign'd, 
 
 Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign ; 
 
 Aiming at lawless power, though meanly sunk 
 
 In loose inglorious luxury. With him 
 
 His friend, the British Ckssius,* fearless bled ; 
 
 * Algernon Sidney.
 
 SUMMER. 113 
 
 Of high determin'd spirit, roughly brave, 
 By ancient learning to th' enlighten'd love 
 Of ancient freedom warm'd. Fair thy renown 
 In awful sages and in noble bards ; 
 Soon as the light of dawning Science spread 
 Her orient ray, and wak'd the Muses' song. 
 ThmeJs_a_jBacon ; hapless in his choice, 
 Unfit to stand the civil storin of state, 
 And through the smooth barbarity of courts, 
 With firm but pliant virtue, forward still 
 To urge his course : him for the studious shade 
 Kind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear, 
 Exact, and elegant : in one rich soul, 
 Plato, the Stagy rite, and Tully join'd. 
 The great deliverer he ! who from the gloom 
 Of cloistered monks, and jargon-teaching schools, 
 Led forth the true Philosophy, there long 
 Held in the magic chain of words and forms, 
 And definitions void : he led her forth, 
 Daughter of Heaven ! that slow-ascending still, 
 Investigating sure the chain of things, 
 With radiant finger points to heaven again. 
 The generous Ashley* thine, the friend of man ; 
 Who scami'd his nature with a brother's eye, 
 His weakness prompt to shade, to raise his aim, 
 To touch the finer movements of the mind, 
 And with the moral beauty charm the heart. 
 Why need I name thy Boyle, whose pious search 
 * Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of Shaf tesbury.
 
 114 THE SEASON'S. 
 
 Amid the dark recesses of his works, 
 
 The great Creator sought ? And why thy Locke, 
 
 "Who made the whole internal world his own? 
 
 Let Newton, pure intelligence, whom GOD 
 
 To mortals lent, to trace his boundless works 
 
 From laws sublimely simple, speak thy fame 
 
 In all philosophy. For lofty sense, 
 
 Creative fancy, and inspection keen 
 
 Through the deep windings of the human heart, 
 
 Is not wild Shaks]>eare thine and Nature's boast ? 
 
 Is not each great, each amiable Muse 
 
 Of classic ages in thy Milton met ? 
 
 A genius universal as his theme ; 
 
 Astonishing as chaos, as the bloom 
 
 Of blowing Eden fair, as heaven sublime ! 
 
 Nor shall my verse that elder bard forget, 
 
 The gentle Spenser, Fancy's pleasing son ; 
 
 Who, like a copious river, pour'd his song 
 
 O'er all the mazes of enchanted ground : 
 
 Nor thee, his ancient master, laughing sage, 
 
 Chaucer, whose native manners-painting verse, 
 
 Well-moraliz'd, shines through the gothic cloud 
 
 Of time and language o'er thy genius thrown. 
 
 May my song soften, as thy daughters I, 
 Britannia, hail ! for beauty is their own, 
 The feeling heart, simplicity of life, 
 And elegance and taste : the faultless form 
 Shap'd by the hnnd of harmony ; the cheek, 
 \\ h, re the live crimson, through the native whiti-
 
 SUMMER. 115 
 
 Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom, 
 And every nameless grace ; the parted lip, 
 Like the red rose-bud moist with morning dew, 
 Breathing delight ; and, under flowing jet, 
 Or sunny ringlets, or of circling brown, 
 The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast : 
 The look resistless, piercing to the soul, 
 And by the soul inform'd, when drest in love 
 She sits high-smiling in the conscious eye. 
 
 Island of bliss ! amid the subject seas, 
 That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up, 
 At once the wonder, terror, and delight, 
 Of distant nations ; whose remotest shores 
 Can soon be shaken by thy naval arm ; 
 Not to be shook thyself, but all assaults 
 Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave. 
 
 O Thou ! by whose almighty nod the scale 
 Of empire rises, or alternate falls, 
 Send forth the saving Virtues round the land, 
 In bright patrol : white Peace, and social Love ; 
 The tender-looking Charity, intent 
 On gentle deeds, and shedding tears through smiles ; 
 Undaunted Truth, and Dignity of mind : 
 Courage compos'd, and keen ; sound Temperance, 
 Healthful in heart and look ; clear Chastity, 
 With blushes reddening as she moves along, 
 Disorder'd at the deep regard she draws ; 
 Rough Industry ; Activity untir'd, 
 With copious life inform'd, and all awake :
 
 116 THE SEASONS. 
 
 While in the radiant front, superior shines, 
 That first paternal virtue, Public Zeal ; 
 Who throws o'er all an equal wide survey, 
 And, ever musing on the commonweal, 
 Still labours glorious with some great design. 
 
 Low walks the sun, and broadens by degrees, 
 Just o'er the verge of day. The shifting clouds 
 Assembled gay, a richly-gorgeous train 
 In all their pomp attend his setting throne. 
 Air, earth, and ocean smile immense. And now, 
 As if his weary chariot sought the bowers 
 Of A in) .hit Ht i', and her tending nymphs, 
 (So Grecian fable sung) he dips his orb ; 
 Now half-immers'd ; and now a golden curve 
 Gives one bright glance, then total disappears. 
 
 For ever running an enchanted round, 
 Passes the day, deceitful, vain, and void ; 
 AH fleets the vision o'er the formful brain, 
 This moment hurrying wild th* ini]>a88ion'd soul, 
 The next in nothing lost. 'Tis so to him, 
 Tin- dreamer of this earth, an idle blank : 
 A sight of horror to the cruel wretch, 
 Who all day long in sordid pleasure roll'd, 
 Himself an useless load, has squander^! vile, 
 I'IMHI his scoundrel train, what might have cheerM 
 A drooping family of modest worth. 
 Hut to the generous still-improving mind, 
 That gives the hope-lew heart to sing for joy, 
 
 kiln I l.rm lirrli. < ;il<. 1111(1,
 
 SUMMER. 117 
 
 Boastless, as now descends the silent clew ; 
 To him the long review of order'd life 
 Is inward rapture, only to be felt. 
 
 Confess'd from yonder slow-extinguish'd clouds, 
 All ether softening, sober Evening takes 
 Her wonted station in the middle air ; 
 A thousand shadows at her beck. First this 
 She sends on earth ; then that of deeper dye 
 Steals soft behind ; and then a deeper still, 
 In circle following circle, gathers round, 
 To close the face of things. A fresher gale 
 Begins to wave the wood, and stir the stream, 
 Sweeping with shadowy gust the fields of corn ; 
 While the quail clamours for his running mate. 
 Wide o'er the thistly lawn, as swells the breeze, 
 A whitening shower of vegetable down 
 Amusive floats. The kind impartial care 
 Of Nature nought disdains : thoughtful to feed 
 Her lowest sons, and clothe the coming year, 
 From field to field the feather'd seeds she wings. 
 
 His folded flock secure, the shepherd home 
 Hies, merry-hearted ; and by turns relieves 
 The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming pail ; 
 The beauty whom perhaps his witless heart, 
 Unknowing what the joy-mixt anguish means, 
 Sincerely loves, by that best language shown 
 Of cordial glances, and obliging deeds. 
 Onward they pass, o'er many a panting height, 
 And valley sunk, and unfrequented ; where
 
 118 THE SEASONS. 
 
 At fall of eve the fairy people throng, 
 
 In various game, an*d revelry, to pass 
 
 The summer night, as village stories tell. 
 
 But far about they wander from the grave 
 
 Of him, whom his ungentle fortune urg'd 
 
 Against his own sad breast to lift the hand 
 
 Of impious violence. The lonely tower 
 
 Is also shunn'd ; whose mournful chambers hold, 
 
 So night-struck Fancy dreams, the yelling ghost. 
 
 Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge, 
 The glow-worm lights his gem ; and through the dark, 
 A moving radiance twinkles. Evening yields 
 The world to Night : not in her winter-robe 
 Of massy stygian woof, but loose array'd 
 In mantle dun. A faint erroneous ray, 
 Glanc'd from th' imperfect surfaces of things, 
 Flings half an image on the straining eye ; 
 While wavering woods, and villages, and streams, 
 And rocks, and mountain-top;}, that long-retain'd 
 Tin- ascending gleam, are all one swimming scene, 
 Uncertain if beheld. Sudden to heaven 
 Thence weary vision turns ; where leading soft 
 The silent hours of love, with purest ray 
 Sweet Venus shines; and from her genial rise, 
 When day-light sickens till it springs afresh, 
 Unrival'd reigns, the fairest lamp of Night. 
 As thus th' cirul^i'iuv tivinulouH I drink, 
 Wiili cheriah'd gaze, the lambent lightnings 
 Across the sky ; or horizontal dart
 
 SUMMER. 119 
 
 In wondrous shapes : by fearful murmuring crowds, 
 
 Portentous deem'd. Amid the radiant orbs, 
 
 That more than deck, that animate the sky, 
 
 The life-infusing suns of other worlds ; 
 
 Lo ! from the dread immensity of space 
 
 Eeturning, with accelerated course, 
 
 The rushing comet to the sun descends ; 
 
 And as he sinks below the shading earth, 
 
 With awful train projected o'er the heavens, 
 
 The guilty nations tremble. But, above 
 
 Those superstitious horrors that enslave 
 
 The fond sequacious herd, to mystic faith 
 
 And blind amazement prone, th' enlighten'd few, 
 
 Whose godlike minds Philosophy exalts. 
 
 The glorious stranger hail. They feel a joy. 
 
 Divinely great ; they in their powers exult, 
 
 That wondrous force of thought, which mounting 
 
 spurns 
 
 This dusky spot, and measures all the sky ; 
 While, from his far excursion through the wilds 
 Of barren ether, faithful to his time, 
 They see the blazing wonder rise anew, 
 In seeming terror clad, but kindly bent 
 To work the will of all-sustaining Love ; 
 From his huge vapoury train perhaps to shake 
 Reviving moisture on the numerous orbs, 
 Through which his long ellipsis winds ; perhaps 
 To lend, new fuel to declining suns, 
 To light up worlds, and feed th' eternal fire.
 
 120 THE SEASONS. 
 
 With jihee, serene Philosopliy^with jheg 
 And thy bright garland, let me crown my song ! 
 Effusive source of evidence, and truth ! 
 A lustre shedding o'er the ennobled mind, 
 Stronger than summer-noon ; and pure as that, 
 Whose mild vibrations sooth the parted soul, 
 New to the dawning of celestial day. 
 Hence through her nourish 'd powers, enlarg'd by thee, 
 She springs aloft, with elevated pride, 
 Above the tangling mass of low desii*es, 
 That bind the fluttering crowd ; and, angel-wingM, 
 The heights of science and of virtue gains, 
 Where all is calm and clear ; with Nature round, 
 Or in the starry regions, or th' abyss, 
 To Reason's and to Fancy's eye display'd : 
 The first uj^tracing, from the dreary void, 
 The chain of causes and effects to HIM, 
 The world-producing Essence, who alone 
 Possesses being ; while the Last receives 
 The whole magnificence of heaven and earth, 
 And every beauty, delicate or bold, 
 Obvious or more remote, with livelier sense, 
 Diffusive ])ainted on the rapid mind. 
 
 TutorM by thee, hence Poetry exalts 
 Her voice to ages ; and informs the page 
 With music, image, sentiment, and thought, 
 
 t" die ! the treasure of mankind ! 
 Their highest honour, and their truest joy ! 
 
 Without thee what were unciili^liteu'd Man '.
 
 
 SUMMER. 121 
 
 A savage roaming through the woods and wilds, 
 
 In quest of prey ; and with the unfashion'd fur 
 
 Rough-clad ; devoid of every finer art, 
 
 And elegance of life. Nor happiness 
 
 Domestic, mix'd of tenderness and care, 
 
 Nor moral excellence, nor social bliss, 
 
 Nor guardian law were his ; nor various skill 
 
 To turn the furrow, or to guide the tool 
 
 Mechanic ; nor the heaven-conducted prow 
 
 Of Navigation bold, that fearless braves 
 
 The burning line or dares the wintry pole ; 
 
 Mother severe of infinite delights ! 
 
 Nothing, save rapine, indolence, and guile, 
 
 And woes on woes, a still-revolving train ! 
 
 Whose horrid circle had made human life 
 
 Than non-existence worse : but, taught by thee, 
 
 Ours are the plans of policy and peace ; 
 
 To live like brothers, and conjunctive all 
 
 Embellish life. While thus laborious crowds! 
 
 Ply the tough oar, Philosophy directs 
 
 The ruling helm ; or like the liberal breath 
 
 Of potent heaven, invisible, the sail 
 
 Swells out, and bears th' inferior world along. 
 
 Nor to this evanescent speck of earth 
 Poorly confin'd, the radiant tracts on high 
 Are her exalted range ; intent to gaze 
 Creation through ; and, from that full complex 
 Of never-ending wonders to conceive 
 Of the SOLE BKING right, who spoke the Word,
 
 122 THE SEASONS. 
 
 And Nature ruov'd complete. With inward view, 
 Thence on th' ideal kingdom swift she turns 
 Her eye ; and instant at her powerful glance, 
 Th' obedient phantoms vanish or appear ; 
 Compound, divide, and into order shift, 
 Each to his rank, from plain perception up 
 To the fair forms of Fancy's fleeting train : 
 To reason then, deducing truth from truth ; 
 And notion quite abstract ; when first begins 
 The world of spirits, action all, and life 
 Uufetter'd, and unmix t. But here the cloud 
 (So wills Eternal Providence) sits deep. 
 Enough for us to know that this dark state, 
 In \vay\vanl passions lost :uul vain pursuits, 
 This infancy of Hcin-,', cannot prove 
 The final issue of the works of God, 
 By boundless Love and perfect Wisdom form'd, 
 And ever rising with the rising mjpH.
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 THE subject proposed. Addressed to Mr. Onslow. A pros- 
 pect of the fields ready for harvest. Eeflections in praise of 
 Industry raised by that view. Reaping. A tale relative to 
 it. An harvest storm. Shooting and hunting, their bar- 
 barity. A ludicrous account of fox-hunting. A view of an 
 orchard. "Wall-fruit. A vineyard. A description of fogs, 
 frequent in the latter part of Autumn : whence a digression, 
 inquiring into the rise of fountains and rivers. Birds of 
 season considered, that now shift their habitation. The 
 prodigious number of them that cover the northern and 
 western isles of Scotland. Hence a view of the country. 
 A prospect of the discoloured, fading woods. After a gentle 
 dusky day, moonlight. Autumnal meteors. Morning : to 
 which succeeds a calm, pure, sun-shiny day, such as usually 
 shuts up the season. The harvest being gathered in, the 
 country dissolved in joy. The whole concludes with a 
 panegyric on a philosophical country life.
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 CROWN*!) with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, 
 While AUTUMN, nodding o'er the yellow plain, 
 Comes jovial on ; the Doric reed once more, 
 Well-pleas'd, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost 
 Nitrous prepared ; the various-blossom'd Spring 
 Put in white promise forth ; and Summer-suns 
 Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view, 
 Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme. 
 Onslow ! the Muse, ambitious of thy name, 
 Tii j^niiVj inspirr, and di^njfy hrr Jjuiij:, 
 Would from the public voice thy gentle ear 
 Awhile engage. Thy noble cares she knows, 
 The patriot virtues that distend thy thought, 
 Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow ; 
 While listening senates hang upon thy tongiu , 
 Devolving through the maze of eloquence 
 A roll of periods, sweeter tlian 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 t 
 To mix the patriot's with the |K>et's flame
 
 By strong Wecefsitys supreme command, 
 TVith smiling patimc e in "her loots . sh-p "went 
 To gleaii Falenioiis fields. 
 
 ATJT 
 
 BY RICHARD WKSTAJ.1..K A. T-.NCRAVET) BY JOHN BOMNKA"
 
 AUTUMK. 125 
 
 When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days, 
 And Libra weighs in equal scales the year ; 
 From heaven's high cope the fierce effulgejjce_shook 
 Of parting Summer, a serener blue, 
 With golden light enliven'd, wide invests 
 The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise, 
 Sweet-beamed, and shedding oft through lucid clouds 
 A pleasing calm ; while broad, and brown, below 
 Extensive harvests hang the heavy head. 
 Rich, silent, deep, they stand ; for not a gale 
 Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain : 
 A calm of plenty ! till the ruffled air 
 Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow. 
 Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky : 
 The clouds fly different ; and the sudden sun 
 By fits effulgent gilds th' illumin'd field, 
 And black by fits the shadows sweep along. 
 A gaily -chequer'd heart-expanding view, 
 Far as the circling eye can shoot around, 
 Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn. 
 
 These are thy blessings, Industry ! rough power ! 
 Whom labour still attends, and sweat and pain ; 
 Yet the kind source of every gentle art, 
 And all the soft civility of life : 
 Raiser of humankind ! by Nature cast, 
 Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods 
 And wilds, to rude inclemeut elements ; 
 With various seeds of art deep in the mind 
 Implanted, and profusely pourVl around,
 
 126 THK SEASONS. 
 
 Materials infinite ; but idle all. 
 Still unexerted, in the unconscious breast, 
 Slept the lethargic powers ; Corruption still, 
 Voracious, swallow'd what the liberal hand 
 Of bounty scattered o'er the savage year : 
 And still the sad barbarian, roving, rnix'd 
 With beasts of prey ; or for his acorn-meal 
 Fought the fierce tusky boar ; a shivering wretch 
 Aghast and comfortless, when the bleak north, 
 With Winter charg'd, let the mix'd tempest fly, 
 Hail, rain, and snow, and bitter-breathing frost : 
 Then to the shelter of the hut he fled ; 
 And the wild season, sordid, pin'd away. 
 For home he had not ; home is the resort 
 Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where, 
 Supporting and supported, polish'd friends, 
 And dear relations, mingle into bliss. 
 But this the rugged savage never felt, 
 Ev'n desolate in crowds ; and thus his days 
 Roll'd heavy, dark, and unenjoy'd along : 
 A waste of time ! till Industry approach'd, 
 And rous'd him from his miserable sloth ; 
 His faculties unfolded ; pointed out, 
 Where lavish Nature the directing ha ml 
 Of Art demanded ; show'd him how to raise 
 His feeble force by the mechanic powers, 
 To dig the mineral fn>m tin vaulted earth ; 
 On what to turn the pioiving nige of fire ; 
 On what tin- l..nvnt, ami tin- Lratli.-nl l.last ;
 
 AUTUMN. 1 27 
 
 Gave the tall ancient forest to his axe : 
 Taught him to chip the wood, and hew the stone, 
 Till by degrees the finish'd fabric rose ; 
 Tore from his limbs the blood-polluted fur, 
 And wrapt them in the woolly vestment warm, 
 Or bright in glossy silk, and flowing lawn ; 
 With wholesome viands fill'd his table ; pour'd 
 The generous glass around, inspir'd to wake 
 The life-refining soul of decent wit : 
 Nor stopp'd at barren bare necessity ; 
 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 ; 
 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 toiling millions must resign 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
 
 128 THE SEASON'S. 
 
 In order set, protected, and inspir'd, 
 Into perfection wrought. Uniting all, 
 Society grew numerous, high, polite, 
 And happy. Nurse of art ! the city rearM 
 In beauteous pride her tower-encircled head ; 
 And, stretching street on street, by thousands drew, 
 From twining woody haunts, or the tough yew 
 To bows strong-straining, her aspiring sons. 
 
 Then Commerce brought into the public walk 
 The busy mercliant ; the big warehouse built ; 
 Rais'd the strong crane ; chok'd up the loaded street 
 With foreign plenty ; and thy stream, O Thames, 
 Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods ! 
 Chose for his grand resort. On either hand, 
 Like a long wintry forest, groves of masts 
 Shot up their spires : the bellying sheet between 
 Possessed the breezy void : the sooty hulk 
 Si i-cr'i 1 sluggish on ; the splendid barge along 
 Row'd, regular, to harmony ; around, 
 Tin- boat, light-skimming, stretch'd its oary wings ; 
 While deep the various voice of fervent toil 
 From bank to bank iucreaa'd ; whence ribb'd with oak. 
 To bear the British thunder, black, and bold, 
 The roaring vessel rush'd into the nuin. 
 
 Then too the pillurM dome, magnific, heav'd 
 Its ample roof ; and Luxury within 
 PourM out her glitt'riug stores : the canvas smooth, 
 With glowing life protuberant, to the view 
 KinlMidip<l rose ; the statue seem'.! t>
 
 AUTUMN. 129 
 
 And soften into flesh, beneath the touch 
 Of forming art, imagination flush'd. 
 All is the gift of Industry ; whate'er 
 
 Exalts, embe^liahpp, and rqiifWa b'fp 
 
 Delightful. Pensive Winter cheer'd by 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 the Autumnal months could thus transmit 
 
 Those full, mature, immeasurable stores, 
 
 That, waving round, recall my wandering song. 
 
 Soon as the morning trembles o'er the sky, 
 And, unperceiv'd, unfolds the spreading day ; 
 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 offices her toil. 
 At once they stoop and swell the lusty sheaves ; 
 While through their cheerful baud 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 there, 
 Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick. 
 Be not too narrow, husbandmen ! but fling
 
 130 THE SEASON'S. 
 
 From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth, 
 The liberal handful. Think, oh grateful think ! 
 How good the God of Harvest is to you ; 
 Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields ; 
 While these unhappy partners of your kind 
 Wide-hover round you, like the fowls of heaven, 
 And ask their humble dole. The various turns 
 Of fortune ponder ; that your sous may want 
 What now, with hard reluctance, faint, ye give. 
 
 The lovely young Lavinia once had friends ; 
 And Fortune smil'd, deceitful, on her birth. 
 For, in her helpless years depriv'd of all, 
 Of every stay, save Innocence and Heaven, 
 She, with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, 
 And poor, liv'd in a cottage far retir'd 
 Among the windings of a woody vale ; 
 By solitude and deep surrounding shade*, 
 But more by bashful modesty, concwil d. 
 Together thus they shunn'd the cruel scorn 
 Which virtue, sunk to poverty, would meet 
 From giddy passion and low-minded pride . 
 Almost on Nature's common bounty fed ; 
 Like the gay birds that sung them to ivposc, 
 Content, and careless of to-morrow's fare. 
 Her form was fresher than the morning rose, 
 When the dew wets its leaves ; unstain'd and pure, 
 AM is the lily, or the mountain snow. 
 The modest virtues mingled in her eyes, 
 Still on the ground dejected, darting all
 
 AUTUMN. 131 
 
 Their humid beams into the blooming flowers : 
 Or when the mournful tale her mother told, 
 Of what her faithless fortune promised once, 
 Thrill'd in her thought, they, like the dewy star 
 Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace 
 Sat fair-proportion'd on her polish'd limbs, 
 Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire, 
 Beyond the pomp of dress ; for loveliness 
 Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, 
 But is when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most. 
 Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self, 
 Recluse amid the close-embowering woods. 
 As in the hollow breast of Apennine, 
 Beneath the shelter of encircling hills, 
 A myrtle rises, far from human eye, 
 And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild ; 
 So flourish'd blooming, and unseen by all, 
 The sweet Lavinia ; till, at length compell'd 
 By strong Necessity's supreme command, 
 With smiling patience in her looks, she went 
 To glean Palemon's fields. The pride of swains 
 Palemon was, the generous, and the rich ; 
 Who led the rural life in all its joy 
 And elegance, such as Arcadian song 
 Transmits from ancient uncorrupted times ; 
 When tyrant custom had not shackled man, 
 B\it free to follow Nature was the mode. 
 He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes 
 Amusing, chanc'd beside his reaper-train
 
 132 THE SEASONS. 
 
 To walk, when poor Lavinia drew his eye ; 
 Unconscious of her power, and turning quick 
 With unaffected blushes from his gaze : 
 He saw her charmiujk but he saw not half 
 The charms her downcast modesty conceal'd. 
 That very moment 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 his heart own a gleaner in the field ; 
 And thus in secret to his soul he sigh'd : 
 
 " 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 life, . 
 
 From whom my liberal fortune took its rise ; 
 Now to the dust gone down ; his houses, lauds, 
 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 daughter live, 
 Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. 
 Romantic wish ! would this the daughter were ! " 
 
 When, strict inquiring, from herself he found 
 She wan the game, the daughter of his friend,
 
 AUTUMN. 133 
 
 Of bountiful Acasto ; who can speak 
 
 The mingled passions that surpris'd his heart, 
 
 And through his nerves in shivering transport ran? 
 
 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 once. 
 
 Conf us'd and f righten'd at his sudden tears, 
 
 Her rising beauties flush'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, whom my restless gratitude has sought, 
 So long in vain ? O heavens ! the very same, 
 The softened image of my noble friend, 
 Alive his every look, his every feature, 
 More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than Spring ! 
 Thou sole surviving blossom from the root 
 That nourish'd up my fortune ! say, ah where, 
 In what sequestered 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? 
 O let me now, into a richer soil, 
 
 Transplant thee safe ! where vernal suns, and showers, 
 Diffuse their warmest, largest influence ; 
 And of my garden be the pride and joy ! 
 Ill it befits thee, oh it ill befits 
 Acasto's daughter, his, whose open stores,
 
 134 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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 enjoy. 
 Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, 
 But ill applied to such a rugg'd task ; 
 The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine ; 
 If to the various blessings which thy house 
 Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss, 
 That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee ! " 
 . Here ceas'd the youth ; yet still hisspeaking eye 
 Exp'ressxTthe sacred triumph of his soul, 
 With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love, 
 Above the vulgar joy divinely rais'd. 
 Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm 
 Of goodness irresistible, and all 
 In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent. 
 The news immediate to her mother brought, 
 While pierc'd with anxious thought, she pin'd away 
 'I'li' lonely moments for Lavinia's fate ; 
 Aniaz'd, and scarce believing what she heard, 
 Joy seiz'd her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam 
 Of setting life shone on her evening hours : 
 Not less enraptured than the happy pair ; 
 Who flourished long in tender bliss, ami rear'd 
 A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves, 
 And good, the grace of all the country round. 
 
 Defeating oft the labours of the year, 
 The sultry aouth collects a potent blast.
 
 AUTUMN. 135 
 
 At first, the groves are scarcely seen to stir 
 Their trembling tops ; and a still murmur runs \ 
 Along the soft-inclining fields of corn. 
 But as th' aerial tempest fuller swells, 
 And in one mighty stream, invisible, 
 Immense, the _wTiole_ excited atmosphere, 
 Impetuous rushes o'er the sounding world ; 
 Strain'd to the root, the stooping forest pours 
 A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves. 
 High-beat, the circling mountains eddy in, 
 From 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 whirl'd in air, or into vacant chaff 
 Shook waste. And sometimes too a burst of rain, 
 Swept from the black horizon, broad, descends 
 In one continuous flood. Still over head 
 The mingling 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 
 Tumultuous roar ; and high above its banks 
 The river lift ; before whose rushing tide, 
 Herds, flocks, and harvests, cottages, and swains, 
 Roll mingled down ; all that the winds had spar'd
 
 136 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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 scattered round, 
 He sees ; and instant o'er his shivering thought 
 Comes Winter unprovided, and a train 
 Of claimant children dear. Ye masters, then, 
 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 graceful pride 
 And, oh ! be mindful of that sparing board, 
 Which covers yours with luxury profuse, 
 Makes your glass sparkle, and your sense rejoice ! 
 Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains, 
 And all-involving winds, have swept away. 
 
 Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy, 
 The gun fast-thundering, aiuTthe windedTTorn, 
 Would tempt the Muse to sing the rural game : 
 How in his mid-career the spaniel struck, 
 Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose, 
 OuUtretch'd, and finely sensible, draws full, 
 Fearful, and cautious, on the latent_prey ; 
 AVTii the BUD the circling covey bask 
 Their varied plumes, and watchful every wa\ , 
 Through the- rough htubUf turn tin- *< < 
 Caught in the- nu--li\ .-.u;iu-, in vain tliry beat
 
 AUTUMN. 137 
 
 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 grcmnd ; 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 *ound 
 Alive, and happy. 'Tis not joy to her, 
 This falsely-cheerful barbarous game of death, 
 This rage of pleasure, which the restless youth 
 Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn : 
 When beasts of prey retire, that all night long, 
 Urg'd by necessity, had ranged the dark, 
 As if their consciousjuvage shunn'd the light. 
 Asham'd. Not8o_the_8teady tyrant Man, 
 Who with the thoughtless insolence of power 
 Inflam'd, beyond the most infuriate wrath 
 Of the worst monster that e'er roam'd the waste, 
 For sport alone pursues the cruel chase, 
 Amid the beamings of the gentle days. 
 Upbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage, 
 For hunger kindles you, and lawless want ; 
 But lavish fed, in Nature's bounty roll'd, 
 To joy at anguish, and delight in blood,
 
 138 THK SEASONS. 
 
 Is what your horrid bosoms never knew. 
 
 Poor is the triumph o'er the timid hare ! 
 Scar'd from the command now to some lone seat 
 Retir'd : the rushy fen ; the ragged furze, 
 Stretch'd o'er the stony heath ; the stubble chapt ; 
 The thistly lawn ; the thick entangled broom ; 
 Of the same friendly hue, the withered fern ; 
 The fallow groxind laid open to the sun, 
 Concoctive ; and the nodding sandy bank, 
 Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain brook. 
 Vain is her best precaution ; though she sits 
 ConceaFd, with folded ears ; unsleeping eyes, 
 By Nature rais'd to take th' 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, 
 Witli 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 : 
 The pack full-opening, various ; the shrill honi, 
 Resounded from the hills ; the neighing steed, 
 Wild for the chase ; and the loud hunter's shout ; 
 O'er a weak, harmless, flying creature, all 
 Mix'd in mad tumult, and discordant joy. 
 
 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
 
 AUTUMN. 139 
 
 He, sprightly, puts his faith ; and, rous'd by fear, 
 Gives all his swift and 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-airM 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 
 Th' 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 ; 
 And puts his last weak refuge in despair. 
 The big round tears run down his dappled face ; 
 He groans in anguish : while the growling pack, 
 Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest, 
 And mark his beauteous chequer'd sides with gore.
 
 140 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Of this euough. But if the silvan youth, 
 Whose frequent fervent blood boils into violence, 
 Must have the chase ; 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 the troubled wood, 
 See the grim wolf ; on him his shaggy foe 
 Vindictive fix, 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. 
 
 These Britain knows not ; give, ye Britons, then 
 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 
 Your triumph sound sonorous, running round, 
 From rock to rock, in circling echoes tost ; 
 Then scale the mountains to their woody tops ; 
 Rush down the dangerous steep ; and o'er the lawn, 
 In fancy swallowing up the space between, 
 Pour all your speed into the rapid game.
 
 AUTUMN. 141 
 
 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 : O. 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 
 Bound the drear walls, with antic figures fierce, 
 The 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. 
 
 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 incisions make, and talk 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, 
 Eelating 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
 
 142 TMK SEASONS. 
 
 Of Maia to the love-sick shepherdess, 
 On violets diffus'd, while soft she hears 
 Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. 
 Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn, 
 M.-uui . and perfect, from his dark retreat 
 Of thirty years ; and now his honest front 
 Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid 
 Ev'n with the vineyard's best produce to vie. 
 To cheat the thirsty moments, Whist awhile 
 Walks his dull round, beneath a cloud of smoke, 
 Wreath'd, fragrant, from the pipe ; or the quick dice, 
 In thunder leaping from the box, awake 
 Tin- sounding gammon : while romp-loving miss 
 Is haul'd about, in gallantry robust. 
 At last these puling idlenesses laid 
 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 1 1< > ,\ U 
 Ijave every soul, the table floating round, 
 And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot. 
 Thus as they swim in mutual swill, the talk, 
 Vociferous at once from twenty tongues, 
 Reels fast from theme to theme ; from horses, hound*, 
 To church or mistress, politics or ghost, 
 In endless mazes, intricate, perplex'd. 
 Meantime, with sudden interruption, loud, 
 Tli" i ni| ut i. nt cat<-h burst* from the joyous heart ;
 
 AUTUMN. 143 
 
 That moment touch'd is every kindred soul ; 
 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 dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls ; 
 So gradual sinks their mirth. Their feeble tongues, ) 
 Unable to take up the cumbrous word, 
 Lie quite dissolvd. 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 eVn itself was drunk. 
 Lie a wet broken scene ; and wide, below, 
 Is heap'd the social slaughter : where astride 
 The lubby Power in filthy triumph sits, 
 Slumbrous, inclining still from side to side, 
 And steeps them drench 'd in potent sleep till morn. 
 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. 
 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 !
 
 144 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill ; 
 
 To spring the fence, to rein the prancing steed ; 
 
 The cap, the whip, the masculine attire ; 
 
 In which they roughen to the sense, and all 
 
 The winning softness of their sex is lost. 
 
 In them 'tis graceful to dissolve at woe ; 
 
 With every motion, every word, to wave 
 
 Quick o'er the kindling cheek the ready blush ; 
 
 And from the smallest violence to shrink 
 
 Unequal, then the loveliest in their fears ; 
 
 And by this silent adulation, soft, 
 
 To their protection more engaging ManJ 
 
 O may their eyes no miserable 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 y-ar, 
 
 And heighten Nature's dainties : in their race 
 
 To rear their graces into second life ; 
 
 To give society its highest taste ;
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Well-order'd home man's best delight to make ; 
 And by submissive wisdom, modest skill, 
 With every gentle care-eluding art, 
 To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, 
 And sweeten all the toils of human life : 
 Thisjje the female dignity, and praise. 
 
 Ye swains, now hasten to the hazel-bank ; 
 Where, down yon dale, the wildly-winding brook 
 Falls hoarse from steep to steep. In close array, 
 Fit for the thickets and the tangling shrub, 
 Ye virgins come. For you their latest song 
 The woodlands raise ; the clustering nuts for you 
 The lover finds amid the secret shade ; 
 And, 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, 
 As are the ringlets of Melinda's hair : 
 Melinda ! form'd with every grace complete. 
 Yet these neglecting, above beauty wise, 
 And far transcending such a vulgar praise. 
 
 Hence from the busy joy-resounding fields, 
 In cheerful error, let us tread the maze 
 Of .Autumn, unconfinjd ; and 
 
 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.
 
 146 TI1K SEASON& 
 
 A various sweetness swells the gentle race ; 
 By Nature's all-refining hand prepar'd ; 
 Of tempered sun, and water, earth, and air, 
 In ever-changing composition mix'd. 
 Such, falling frequent through the chiller night, 
 The fragrant stores, the wide-projected heaps 
 Of apples, which the lusty-handed Year, 
 Innumerous, o'er the blushing orchard shakes. 
 A various spirit, fresh, delicious, keen, 
 Dwells in their gelid pores ; and, active, points 
 The piercing cider for the thirsty tongue : 
 
 r * 
 
 |Thy native theme, and boon inspirer too, 
 Phillips, Pomona's bard, the second thou 
 Who nobly durst, in rhyme-unfetter'd verse, 
 With British freedom sing the British song : 
 How, from Silurian vats, high-sparkling wines 
 Foam in transparent floods ; some strong, to cheer 
 The wintry revels of the labouring hind ; 
 And tasteful some, to cool the summer hours. 
 
 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 ; 
 
 l- 
 
 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, 
 Far-Bpleudid, seizes on the ravish'd eye.
 
 AUTUMN. 147 
 
 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 ! the 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 
 
 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 peach ; the shining plum : 
 
 The ruddy, fragrant nectarine ; and dark, 
 
 Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious fig. 
 
 The vine too here her curling tendrils shoots ; 
 
 Hangs out her clusters, glowing to the south, 
 
 And scarcely wishes for a warmer sky. 
 
 Turn we amoment 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,
 
 148 
 
 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Or shine transparent ; while perfection breathes 
 
 White o'er the turgent film the living dew. 
 
 And 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 floats, 
 
 And foams unbounded with the mashy flood ; 
 
 That by degrees fermented, and refin'd, 
 
 Hound 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, 
 
 Asjs the wit it gives, the gay champagne. 
 
 Now, by the 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 hill. 
 No more the mountain, horrid, vast, sublime, 
 Who pours a sweep of rivers from his sides, 
 And high between contending kingdoms rears 
 The rocky long division, fills the view 
 With great variety ; but in a night 
 Of gathering vapour, from the baffled 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 alow, to roll the misty wave. 

 
 AUTUMN. 149 
 
 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 deeper circles 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. 
 
 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. 
 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 sandy stratum rise ; 
 Amid whose angles infinitely strain'd, 
 They joyful leave their jaggy salts behind, 
 And clear and sweeten as they soak along.
 
 150 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Nor stops the restless fluid, mounting still, 
 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. JBut hence this vain 
 Amusive dream ! why should the waters love 
 To take so far a journey to the hills, 
 When the sweet valleys offer to their toil 
 Inviting quiet, and a nearer bed ? 
 Or Jf^bjiLbJindainbition 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 charmed 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, 
 Had long ere now forsook his horrid bed, 
 And brought Deucalion's watery times again. 
 
 Say then, where lurk the vast eternal springs, 
 That, like creating Natm^_lie_concealed 
 
 , yet with their lavish stores 
 
 Refresh the globe, and all Its joyous tribes ! 
 O thou pervading Genius, given to man, 
 To trace the secrets of the dark abyss,
 
 AUTUMN. 151 
 
 O lay the mountains bare ! and wide display 
 Their hidden structure to th' astonisliM view ! 
 Strip from the branching Alps their piny load ; 
 The huge iucumbrance of horrific woods 
 From Asian Taurus, from Imau.s stretch'd 
 Athwart the roving Tartar's sullen bounds ! 
 Give opening Hemus to my searching eye, 
 And high Olympus pouring many a stream ! 
 O from the sounding summits of the north, 
 The Dofrine hills, through Scandinavia roll'd 
 To furthest Lapland and the frozen maiu ; 
 From lofty Caucasus, far seen by those 
 Who in the Caspian and black Euxine toil ; 
 From cold Riphean rocks, which the wild Ruas 
 Believes the stony girdle* of the world : 
 And all the dreadful mountains, wrap'd in storm, 
 Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods ; 
 O sweep th' eternal snows ! Hung o'er the deep, 
 That ever works beneath his sounding base, 
 Bid Atlas, propping heaven, 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 t of the Moon ! 
 Overtopping all these giant-sons of earth, 
 
 * The Muscovites call the Riphean Mountains Weliki 
 Camenypoyt ; that is, the great stony Girdle : because they 
 suppose them to encompass the whole earth. 
 
 t A range of mountains in Africa, that surround almost all 
 Monomotapa.
 
 152 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Let the dire Andes, from the radiant line 
 
 Stretch'd to 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 infantbeds ! 
 
 Deep.deepl hear them, labouring to get free ; 
 
 I see the leaning strata, artful rang'd ; 
 
 Thg gaping fissures to^reCelyejthpi raing, 
 
 The melting snows, and ever-dripping fogs. 
 
 Strow'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 th' 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 f orm'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-burden'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,
 
 AUTOMX. 153 
 
 In bounteous rivers to the deep again, 
 A social commerce hold, and firm support 
 The full-adjusted harmony of things. 
 
 When Autumn scatters his 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 feather'd eddy floats : rejoicing once, 
 Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire ; 
 In clusters clung, beneath the mouldering bank, 
 And where, unpierced by frost, the cavern sweats. 
 Or rather into warmer climes convey'd, 
 With other kindred birds of season, there 
 They twitter cheerful, till the venial months 
 Invite them welcome back : for, thronging, now 
 Immmerous 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 j-dberty. 
 The stork-assembly meets ; for many a day 
 Consulting deep, and various, ere they take 
 Their arduous voyage through the liquid sky. 
 And now their 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 figur'd flight ascends ; and, riding high 
 Th 1 aerial billows, mixes with the clouds.
 
 154 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Or where the Northern ocean, in vast whirls, 
 Boils round the naked melancholy isles 
 Of furthest Thule, and th' Atlantic surge 
 Pours in among the stormy Hebrides ; 
 Who can recount what transmigrations there 
 Are annual made ? what nations come and go ? 
 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 heard 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 fishy shore ! or treasures up 
 The plumage, rising full, to form the bed 
 Of luxury. And here awhile the Muse, 
 High hovering o'er the broad cerulean scene, 
 Sees Caledonia, in romantic view : 
 Her airy mountains, from the waving main, 
 Invested with a keen diffusive sky, 
 Breathing the soul acute ; her forests huge, 
 Incult, robust, and tall, by Nature's hand 
 Planted of old ; her azure lakes between, 
 Pour"d out extensive, and of watery wealth 
 Full ; winding deep, and green, her 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,
 
 AUTUMN. 155 
 
 With, silvan Jed, thy tributary brook) 
 
 To where the north- inflated tempest foams 
 
 O'er Orca's or Betubium's highest peak : 
 
 Nurse of a people, in Misfortune's school 
 
 Train'd up to hardy deeds ; soon visited 
 
 By Learning, when before the gothic rage 
 
 She took her western flight. A manly race, 
 
 Of unsubmitting spirit, wise, and brave ; 
 
 Who still through bleeding ages struggled hard, 
 
 (As well unhappy Wallace can attest, 
 
 Great patriot-hero ! ill-requited chief !) 
 
 To hold a generous undiminish'd state ; 
 
 Too much in vain ! Hence of unequal bounds 
 
 Impatient, and by tempting glory borne 
 
 O'er every land, for every land their life 
 
 Has flowed profuse, their piercing genius planu'd, 
 
 And swell'd the pomp of peace their faithful toil. 
 
 As from their own clear north, in radiant streams, 
 
 Bright over Europe bursts the boreal morn. 
 
 Oh ! is there not some patriot, in whose power 
 That best, that godlike luxury is plac'd, 
 Of blessing thousands, thousands yet unborn, 
 Tli rough 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 ? 
 How, by the finest art, the native robe 
 To weave ; how white as hyperborean snow, 
 To form the lucid lawn ; with venturous oar
 
 156 THE SKASONS. 
 
 How to dash wide the billow ; nor look on, 
 
 Shamefully passive, while Batavian fleets 
 
 Defraud us of the glittering finny 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 united as in name, 
 
 Bid Britain reign the mistress of the deep? 
 
 Yes, there are such. And full on thee, Argyle, 
 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 Tenier'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 ; 
 While mix'd in thee combines the charm of youth, 
 The force of manhood, and the depth of age. 
 Thee, Forbes, too, whom every worth attends, 
 As truth sincere, as weeping friendship 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 ;
 
 AUTUMN. 157 
 
 And seldom has she known a friend like thee. 
 
 But see the fading many-colour'd woods, 
 Shade deepening over shade, the country round 
 Imbrown ; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun, 
 Of every hue, from wan declining green 
 To sooty dark. These now the lonesome Muse, 
 Low-whispering, lead into their leaf-strown walks, 
 And give the Season in its latest view. 
 
 Meantime, light-shadowing all, a sober calm 
 Fleeces unbounded ether : whose least wave 
 Stands tremulous, uncertain where to turn 
 The gentle current : while illumin'd wide, 
 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 sooth the throbbing passions into peace ; 
 And woo lone Quiet in her silent walks. 
 
 Thus solitary, andjn pensive guise, 
 Oft let me wander o'er therussel mead, 
 And through the sadden'd grove, where scarce is heard 
 One dying strain, to cheer the woodman's toil. 
 Haply some widow'd songster pours his plaint, 
 Far, in faint warblings, through the tawny copse : 
 While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks, 
 And each wild throat, whose artless strains so late
 
 158 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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. 
 O let not, aini'd from some inhuman eye, 
 The gun the music of the coming year 
 Destroy ; and harmless, unsuspecting harm, 
 Lay the weak tribes a miserable prey, 
 In mingled murder, fluttering on the ground ! 
 
 The pale-descending year, yet pleasing still, 
 A gentler mood inspires ; for now the leaf 
 Incessant rustles from the moumful grove ; 
 Oft startling such as, studious, walk below, 
 And slowly circles through the waving air. 
 But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs 
 Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams ; 
 Till chok'd, and matted with the dreary shower, 
 The forest- walks, at every rising gale, 
 Koll wide the wither'd waste, and whistle bleak. 
 Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields ; 
 And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race 
 Their sunny robes resign. Ev'n what remain'd 
 Of stronger fruits falls from the naked tree ; 
 And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around 
 The desolated prospect thrills the soul. 
 
 He comes ! he comes ! in every breeze the Power 
 \ Of Philosophic Melancholy comes ! 
 'His near appi'oach the sudden-starting tear,
 
 ACTUMN. 159 
 
 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 ]1 tfre sn\\\ hiajacrgd influence breathes ! 
 
 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 mingled 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, 
 
 Of human race ; 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 ; 
 
 The wonder which the dying patriot draws, 
 
 Inspiring glory through remotest time ; 
 
 Th' awaken'd throb of virtue, and for fame ; 
 
 The sympathies of love, and friendship dear : 
 
 With all the social offspring of the heart. 
 
 Oh ! bear me then to vast embowering shades, 
 Tjo 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
 
 160 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Deep-sounding, seize th' enthusiastic ear ! 
 
 Or is this gloom too much ? Then lead, ye powers, 
 That o'er the garden and the rural seat 
 Preside, which shining through the cheerful land 
 In countless numbers blest Britannia sees ; 
 O lead me to the wide-extended walks, 
 The fair majestic paradise of Stowe ! * 
 Nor Persian Cyrus on Ionia's shore 
 E'er saw such silvan scenes ; such various art 
 By genius fir'd, 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 t where, in future times, 
 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 th' 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. 
 Or if hereafter she, with juster hand, 
 Shall draw the tragic scene, instruct her, thou, 
 
 * The seat of Lord Cobham. 
 t The Temple of Virtue in Stowe Gardens.
 
 AUTUMN. 161 
 
 To mark ihe varied movements of the heart, 
 What every decent character requires, 
 And every passion speaks : O 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 her venal throne. 
 While thus we talk, and through Elysian vales 
 Delighted rove, perhaps a sigh escapes : 
 What pity, Cobham, thou thy verdant files 
 Of orderM trees shouldst here inglorious range, 
 Instead of squadrons flaming o'er the field, 
 And long embattled hosts ! when 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, 
 Thy temper'd ardour and thy veteran skill. 
 
 The western sun withdraws the shortened day ; 
 And humid Evening, gliding o'er the sky, 
 In her chill progress, to the ground condens'd 
 The vapour throws. Where creeping waters ooze, 
 Where mai-shes 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 erimson'd east- 
 Turn'd to the sun direct, her spotted disk,
 
 162 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Where 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 sky'd mountain to the shadowy vale, 
 
 While rocks and floods reflect the quivering gleam, 
 
 The whole air whitens with a boundless tide 
 
 Of silver radiance, trembling round the world. 
 
 But when half blotted from the sky her light, 
 Fainting, permits the starry fires to burn 
 With keener lustre through the depth of heaven ; 
 Or near extinct her deaden'd orb appears, 
 And scarce appears, of sickly beamless white ; 
 Oft in this season, silent from the north 
 A blaze of meteors shoots : ensweeping first 
 The lower skies, they all at once converge 
 High to the crown of heaven, and all at once 
 Relapsing quick as quickly reascend, 
 And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew, 
 All ether coursing in a maze 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 fire ; 
 Till the long lines of full-extended war 
 In bleeding fight commixt, the sanguine flood
 
 AUTUMN. 163 
 
 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 
 
 Th' unalterable hour : ev'n Nature's self 
 
 Is deem'd 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 
 
 The causes, and materials, yet unfix'd, 
 
 Of this appearance, beautiful and new. 
 
 Now black, 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, and chimeras huge ; 
 Nor visited by one directive ray, 
 From cottage streaming, or from airy hall.
 
 164 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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 : 
 Whither decoy'd by the fantastic blaze, 
 Now lost and now renew'd, he sinks absorpt, 
 Eider 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 lengthen'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 hung on every spray, on every blade 
 Of grass, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round. 
 
 Ah, see where robb'd, and murder'd, in that pit 
 Lies the still heaving hive ! at evening snatch'd, 
 Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, 
 And fix'd o'er sulphur : while, not dreaming ill 
 The happy people in their waxen cells, 
 Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes 
 Of temperance, for Winter poor ; rejoic'd
 
 AUTUMN. 165 
 
 To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores. 
 Sudden the dark oppressive steam asc Jiids ; 
 And, used to milder scents, the tender race, 
 By thousands, tumble from their honied 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 
 Ceaseless the burning Summer-heats away ? 
 For this in Autumn search'd the blooming waste, 
 Nor lost one sunny gleam ? for this sad fate ? 
 O Man ! tyrannic lord ! how long, 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 wintry winds ; 
 Or, as the sliarp year pinches, with their own 
 Again regale them on some smiling day ? 
 See where the stony bottom of their town 
 Looks desolate, and wild ; with here and there 
 A helpless number, who the ruiu'd state 
 Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. 
 Thus a proud city, populous and rich, 
 Full of the works of peace, and high in joy, 
 At theatre or feast, or sunk in sleep, 
 (As late, Palermo, was thy fate) is seiz'd 
 By some dread earthquake, and convulsive hurl'd 
 Sheer from the black foundation, stench-involv'd, 
 Into a gulf of blue sulphureous flame.
 
 166 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Heixce every harsher sight ! for now the day, 
 O'er heaven and earth diffus'd, grows warm and high, 
 Infinite splendour ! wide investing all. 
 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 ! th' 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 gather'd in, beyond the rage of storms, 
 Sure to the swain ; the circling fence shut up ; 
 And instant Winter's utmost rage defied. 
 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, 
 The cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines. 
 Age, too, shines 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 
 The happiest he ! who far from public rage,
 
 AUTUMN. 167 
 
 Deep in the vale, with a choice few retirtt, 
 
 Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life. 
 
 What though the dome be wanting, whose proud gate, 
 
 Each morning, vomits out the sneaking crowd 
 
 Of flatterers false, and in their turn abus'd ? 
 
 Vile intercourse ! what though the glittering robe 
 
 Of every hue reflected 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 and sea purvey'd, 
 
 For him each rarer tributary life 
 
 Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps 
 
 With luxury, and death ? What though his bowl 
 
 Flames not with costly juice ; nor sunk in beds, 
 
 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 the Spring, 
 
 When heaven descends in showers ; or bends the bough, 
 
 When summer reddens, and when Autumn beams ; 
 
 Or in the wintry glebe whatever lies 
 
 Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap, 
 
 These are not wanting ; nor the milky drove,
 
 168 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale ; 
 Nor bleating mountains ; nor the chide of streams 
 And hum of bees, inviting sleep sincere 
 Into the guiltless breast, beneath the shade, 
 Or thrown at large amid the fragrant hay ; 
 Nor aught besides of prospect, grove, or song, 
 Dim grottoes, gleaming lakes, and fountain 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 wave. 
 Let such as deem it glory to destroy, 
 Bush 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'd or by want or harden'd avarice. 
 Find other lands beneath another sun. 
 Let this through cities work his eager way, 
 By legal outrage and establish'd guile, 
 The social sense extinct ; and that ferment 
 Mad into tumult the seditious herd, 
 Or melt them down to slavery. Let these 
 Insnare the wretched in the toils of law, 
 Fomenting discord, and perplexing right, 
 An iron race ! and those of fairer front,
 
 AUTDMN. 169 
 
 But equal inhumanity, in courts, 
 
 Delusive pomp and dark cabals, delight ; 
 
 Wreathe the deep bow, diffuse the lying smile, 
 
 And tread the weary labyrinth of state. 
 
 While he, from all the stormy passions free, 
 
 That restless men involve, hears, and but hears, 
 
 At distance safe, the human tempest roar, 
 
 Wrapt close in conscious peace. The fall of kings, 
 
 The rage of nations, and the 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 her every shape ; 
 
 Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart : 
 
 Takes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more. 
 
 He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems, 
 
 Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale 
 
 Into his freshen'd 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 ?is o'er frigid Tenipe wont to wave, 
 
 Or Hemus cool, reads what the Muse, of these, 
 
 Perhajw, has in immortal numbers sung ; 
 
 Or what she dictates writes : and, oft an eye 
 
 Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year. 
 
 Wl ii'ii Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world, 
 
 And tempts the sickled twain into the field,
 
 170 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Seiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends 
 With gentle throes ; and, through the tepid gleams 
 Deep musing, then he best exerts his song. 
 Ev'n Winter wild to him is full of bliss. 
 The mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, 
 Abrupt, and deep, stretch'd o'er the buried earth, 
 Awake to solemn thought. At night the skies, 
 Disclos'd, and kindled, by refining frost, 
 Pour every lustre on th' exalted eye. 
 A friend, a book, the stealing hours secure, 
 And mark them down for wisdom. With swift wing 
 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 neck, 
 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 ! 
 Oh, Nature ! all-sufficient ! over all !
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Enrich me with the knowledge of thy works ! 
 
 Snatch me to heaven ; thy rolling wonders there 
 
 World beyoiid world, in infinite extent, 
 
 Profusely scatter^ 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 passions endless shift ; 
 
 These ever open to my ravished eye ; 
 
 A search, the flight of time can ne'er exhaust ! 
 
 But if to that unequal ; if the blood, 
 
 In sluggish streams about my heart, forbid 
 
 That best ambition ; under closing shades, 
 
 Inglorious, lay me by the 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 ! 
 
 171
 
 The subject proposed. Address to the Earl of Wilmington. 
 First approach of Winter. According to the natural course 
 of the season, various storms described. Rain. Wind. 
 Snow. The driving of the snows : a man perishing among 
 them ; whence reflections on the wants and miseries of 
 human life. The wolves descending from the Alps and 
 Apennines. A winter evening described : as spent by 
 philosophers ; by the country people ; in the city. Frost. 
 A view of Winter within the polar circle. A thaw. The 
 whole concluding with moral reflections on a future state.
 
 _arucl down te sinks 
 
 Beneath the shelter of the shapelefs drift 
 ThinMag- o'er aH the titternefs of death.. 
 
 By RK11AHD "WES1 A1,L.X.A.>',NGX.A\'EI) BY CfiAEU^KS -ROLIS
 
 WINTER. 
 
 SEE, WINTER comes, to rule the varied year, 
 Sullen and sil, with all his rising train ; 
 Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be these my theme, 
 These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, 
 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 torrent 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. 
 
 To thee, the patron of her first essay, 
 The Muse, O 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 ;
 
 174 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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, 
 And how to make a mighty people thrive : 
 But equal goodness, sound integrity, 
 A firm unshaken uncormpted 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. 
 
 Now when the cheerless empire of the sky 
 To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields, 
 And fierce Aquarius, stains th' inverted year ; 
 Hung o'er the furthest verge of heaven, the sun 
 Scarce spreads through ether the dejected day. 
 Faint are his gleams and ineffectual shoot 
 His struggling rays, in horizontal lines, 
 Through the thick air : as clothed in cloudy storm, 
 Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky ; 
 And, soon-descending, to the long dark night, 
 Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns.
 
 WINTER. 175 
 
 Nor is the 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 tlian melancholy views. 
 The cattle droop ; and o'er the furrow'd land, 
 Fresh from the plough, the dun discolonr'd flocks, 
 Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root. 
 Along the woods, along the moorish fens, 
 Sighs the sad Genius of the coming storm : 
 And up among the loose disjointed cliffs, 
 And f nut iirM mountains wild, the brawling brook 
 And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, 
 Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear. 
 
 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 face. The wanderers of heaven,
 
 176 TTIE SEASONS. 
 
 Each to his home, retire ; save those that love 
 
 To take their pastime in the troubled air, 
 
 Or skimming flutter round the dimply pool. 
 
 The cattle from the untasted fields return, 
 
 And ask, with meaning lowe, their wonted 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 th' enlivening blaze, and taleful there 
 
 Recounts his simple frolic : much he talks, 
 
 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, 
 And the mix'd ruin of its banks o'erspread, 
 At last the rous'd-up river pours along : 
 Resistless, roaring, dreadful, down it comes, 
 From the rude mountain, and the mossy wild, 
 Tumbling through rocks abrupt, and sounding far ; 
 Then o'er the 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, rapid and deep, 
 It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders through 
 
 Nature ! great parent, whose unceasing hand 
 ! Rolls round the Seasons of the changeful year, 
 How mighty, how majestic, are thy works ! 
 With what a pleasing dread they swell the soul !
 
 WINTER. 177 
 
 That Bees astouish'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 ; red 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, 
 The stars obtuse emit a shivered ray ; 
 Or frequent seem to shoot athwart the gloom, 
 And long behind them trail the whitening blaze. 
 Snatch'd in short eddies, plays the witherM leaf ; 
 And on the flood the dancing feather floats. 
 With broaden'd nostrils to the sky up-turn'd, 
 The conscious heifer snuffs the stormy gale. 
 Ev'n as the matron, at her nightly task, 
 With pensive labour draws the flaxen thread, 
 The wasted taper and the crackling flame 
 Foretell the blast. But chief the plumy race, 
 The tenants of the sky, its changes speak.
 
 178 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Retiring from the downs, where all day long 
 They pick'd their scanty fare, a blackening train 
 Of clamorous rooks thick urge their weary flight, 
 And seek the closing shelter of the grove ; 
 Assiduous, in his bower, the wailing owl 
 Plies his sad song. The cormorant 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 shor 
 Eat into caverns by the restless wave, 
 And forest- rustling mountain, comes a voice, 
 That solemn sounding bids the world prepare. 
 Then issues forth the storm with sudden burst, 
 And hurls the whole precipitated air 
 Down, in a torrent. On the passive main, 
 Descends th' 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 fierce conflicting brine 
 Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn : 
 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 th' inflated wave 
 Straining they scale, and now impetuous shoot
 
 WINTKB. 179 
 
 Into the secret chambers of the deep, 
 
 The wintry Baltic thundering o'er their head. 
 
 Emerging thence again, before the breath 
 
 Of full-exerted heaven they wing their course, 
 
 And dart on distant coasts ; if some sharp rock, 
 
 Or shoal insidious break not their career, 
 
 And in loose fragments fling them floating round. 
 
 Nor less at hand the loosen'd tempest reigns. 
 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 way-faring stranger breathless toils, 
 And, often falling, climbs against the blast. 
 Low waves the rooted forest, vex'd, and sheds 
 What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain ; 
 Dash'd down, and scatterM, by the tearing wind's 
 Assiduous fury, its gigantic limbs. 
 Tims struggling through the dissipated grove 
 The whirling tempest raves along the plain ; 
 And on the cottage thatch 'd, or lordly roof, 
 Keen-fastening, shakes them to the solid base. 
 Sleep frighted flies ; and round the rocking dome, 
 For entrance eager, howls the savage blast. 
 Then, too, they say, through all the burden'd air 
 Long groans are heard, shrill sounds, and distant sighs, 
 That, utter'd by the Demon of the night, 
 Warn the devoted wretch of woe and death. 
 
 Huge uproar lords it wide. The clouds commix'd 
 With stars swift gliding sweep along the sky.
 
 180 THE SEASONS. 
 
 All Nature reels. Till Nature's King, who oft 
 
 Amid tempestuous darkness dwells alone, 
 
 And on the wings of the careering wind 
 
 Walks dreadfully serene, commands a calm ; 
 
 Then straight, air, sea, and earth, are hush'd at once. 
 
 As yet 'tis midnight deep. The 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 shake off th' 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 ! 
 O 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 virtue pure ; 
 Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss ! 
 
 The keener tempests rise : and fuming dun 
 From all the livid east, or piercing north, 
 Thick clouds ascend ; in whose capacious womb
 
 WIKTER. 181 
 
 A vapoury deluge lies, to snow congeal'd. 
 
 Heavy they roll their fleecy world along ; 
 
 And the sky saddens with the gathered storm. 
 
 Through the hush'd air the whitening shower descends, 
 
 At first thin wavering ; till at last the flakes 
 
 Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day, 
 
 With a continual flow. The cherish'd flelda 
 
 Put on their winter-robe of purest white. 
 
 Tis brightness all ; save where the new snow melts 
 
 Along the mazy current. Low the woods 
 
 Bow their hoar head ; and ere the languid sun 
 
 Faint from the west emits his evening ray, 
 
 Earth's universal face, deep hid, and chill, 
 
 Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries wide 
 
 The works of man. Drooping, the labourer-ox 
 
 Stands covered 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 
 
 The winnowing store, and claim the little boon 
 
 Which Providence assigns them. One alone, 
 
 The red-breast, sacred to the household gods, 
 
 Wisely regardful of th' embroiling sky, 
 
 In joyless fields and thorny thickets, leaves 
 
 His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man 
 
 His annual visit. Half-afraid, he first 
 
 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 ;
 
 182 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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, 
 And more unpitying men, the garden seeks, 
 Urg'd on by fearless want. The bleating 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, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind, 
 Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens 
 With food at will ; lodge them below the storm, 
 And watch them strict : for from the bellowing east, 
 In this dire season, oft the whirwind's wing 
 Sweeps up the burden of whole wintry plains 
 At one wide waft, and o'er the hapless flocks, 
 Hid in the hollow of two neighbouring hills, 
 The billowy tempest whelms ; till, upward urg'd, 
 The valley to a shining mountain swells, 
 Tipt with a wreath high-curling in the sky. 
 
 As thus the snows arise ; and foul, and fierce, 
 All Winter drives along the darken'd air ; 
 In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain 
 Disaster^ 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
 
 WINTER. 183 
 
 From hill to dale, still more and more astray ; 
 Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, 
 Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of 
 
 home 
 
 Hush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth 
 In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul ! 
 What black despair, what horror fills his heart ! 
 When for the dusky spot, which fancy feign'd 
 His tufted cottage rising through the snow, 
 He meets the roughness of the middle waste, 
 Far from the track, and bless'd 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 covered pits, unfathomably deep, 
 A dire descent ! beyond the power of frost ; 
 Of faithless bogs ; of precipices huge, 
 Smooth'd up with snow ; and, what is land unknown, 
 What 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 J 
 Beneath the shelter of a shapeless drift, 
 Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death, 
 Mix'd with the tender anguish Nature shoots 
 Through the wrung bosom of the dying man, 
 His wife, his children, and his friends unseen. 
 In vain for him th' oflici<>us wife prepares
 
 184 THE SEASONS. 
 
 The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm ; 
 In vain his little children, peeping out 
 Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, 
 With tears of artless innocence. Alas ! 
 Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, 
 Nor friends, nor sacred home. On every nerve 
 The deadly Winter seizes ; shuts up sense ; 
 And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold, 
 Lays him along the snows, a stiffen'd corse, 
 Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern blast. 
 
 Ah ! little think the gay licentious proud, 
 Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround ; 
 They who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, 
 And wanton, often cruel, riot waste ; 
 Ah ! little think they, while they dance along, 
 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 bleed, 
 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 limbs. How many drink the cup 
 Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread 
 Of misery. Sore pierc'd by wintry winds, 
 How many shrink into the sordid hut 
 Of cheerless poverty. How many shake 
 With all the fiercer tortures of the mind, 
 Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse ;
 
 WINTER. 185 
 
 Whence tumbled headlong from the height of life, 
 
 They furnish matter for the tragic Muse. 
 
 Ev'n 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 roi(5 
 
 Around the death-bed of their dearest friends, 
 
 And point the parting anguish. Thought fond Han 
 
 Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills, 
 
 That one incessant struggle render life, 
 
 One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate, 
 
 Vice in his high career would stand appall'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 bliss, 
 
 Refining still, the social passions work. 
 
 And here can I forget the generous band,* 
 Who, touch'd with human woe, redressive search'd 
 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 ; 
 * The Jail Committee, in the year 1729.
 
 18G THE SEASONS. 
 
 Tore from cold wintry limbs the tatter'd weed ; 
 Ev'n robb'd them of the last of comforts, sleep ; 
 The free-born Briton to the dungeon chaiii'd, 
 Or, as the lust of cruelty prevail'd, 
 At pleasure mark'd him with inglorious stripes ; 
 And crush'd out lives, by secret barbarous ways, 
 That for their country would have toil'd, or bled. 
 O 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, 
 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) 
 I How glorious were the day ! that saw these broke, 
 'And every man within the reach of right. 
 
 By wintry famine rous'd, from all the tract 
 Of horrid mountains which the shining Alps, 
 And wavy Apennine, 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 along, 
 Keen as the north-wind sweeps the glossy snow.
 
 WINTER. 187 
 
 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, 
 
 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. 
 
 Ev'n beauty, force divine ! at whose bright glance 
 
 The jjriHTiius linn stands in soften'd gaze, 
 
 Hi iv lilrt-ds, a hapless undi.stinguish'd prey. 
 
 But if, apprizM of the severe attack, 
 
 The country be shut up, lurM by the scent, 
 
 On church-yards drear (inhuman to relate !) 
 
 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. 
 
 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, 
 And sometimes whole brigades of marching troops, 
 Or hamlets sleeping in the dead of night, 
 Are deep beneath the smothering ruin whelmM. 
 
 Now, all amid the rigours of the year, 
 In the wild depth of Winter, while without 
 The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat,
 
 188 THE SEASONS. 
 
 I Between the groaning forest and the shore 
 Beat by the boundless multitude of waves, 
 A rural, sheltered, solitary scene ; 
 Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join, 
 To cheer the gloom. There studious let me sit, 
 And hold high converse with the mighty Dead ; 
 Sages of ancient time, as gods rever'd, 
 As gods beneficent, who bless'd mankind 
 With arts, with arms, and humaniz'd a world. 
 Eous'd at th' inspiring thought, I throw aside 
 The long-liv'd volume ; and, deep-musing, hail 
 The sacred shades, that slowly-rising pass 
 Before my wondering eyes. JTirst Socrates, 
 Who, firmly good in a corrupted state, 
 Against the rage of tyrants single stood, 
 Invincible ! calm Reason's holy law, 
 That Voice of GOD within th' attentive mind, 
 Obeying, fearless, or in life, or death : 
 Great 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 undamp'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 humankind. 
 Lycurgus then, who bow'd beneath the force 
 Of strictest discipline, severely wise, 
 All human passions. Following him, I see,
 
 WINTER. 189 
 
 As at Thermopylae he glorious fell, 
 The firm devoted Chief,* who proVd by deeds 
 The hardest lesson which the other taught. 
 Then Aristides lifts his honest front ; 
 Spotless of heart, to whom th' unflattering voice 
 Of freedom gave the noblest name of Just ; 
 In pure majestic poverty rever'd ; 
 Who, ev'n his glory to his country's weal 
 Submitting, swell'd a haughty Rival's t fame. 
 RearM by his care, of softer ray appears 
 Cimon sweet-souled ; whose genius, rising 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 Corinthian boast, 
 Timoleon, happy temper ! mild, and firm, 
 Who wept the brother while the tyrant bled. 
 And, equal to the best, the Theban Pair,! 
 Whose virtues, in heroic concord joined, 
 Their country rais'd to freedom, empire, fame. 
 He, 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, 
 * Leouidas. t Themistocles. Pelopidaa and Epatuinondus.
 
 190 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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, 
 
 To save a rotten state, Agis, who saw 
 
 Ev'n Sparta's self to servile avarice sunk. 
 
 The two Achaian heroes close the train : 
 
 Aratus, who awhile relum'd the soul 
 
 Of fondly-lingering liberty in Greece ; 
 
 And he her darling as her latest hope, 
 
 The gallant Philopcemen ; who to arms 
 
 Turn'd the luxurious pomp he could not cure ; 
 
 Or toiling in his farm, a simple swain ; 
 
 Or, bold and skilful, thundering in the field. 
 
 Of rougher front, a mighty people come ! 
 A race of heroes ! in those virtuous times 
 Which knew no stain, save that with partial flame 
 Their dearest country they too fondly lov'd : 
 Her better Founder first, the light of Rome, 
 Numa, who softened her rapacious sons : 
 Servius the king, who laid the solid base 
 On which o'er earth the vast republic spread. 
 Then the great consul's venerable rise. 
 The public Father* who the private quell'd 
 As on the dread tribunal sternly sad. 
 He, whom his thankless country could not lose, 
 Camillus, only vengeful to her foes. 
 Fabricius, scorner of all-conquering gold ; 
 * Marcus Junius Brutus.
 
 WINTER. 191 
 
 And C'incinnatus, awful from the plough. 
 Thy willing victim,* Carthage, bursting loose 
 From all that pleading Nature could oppose, 
 From a whole city's tears, by rigid faith 
 Imperious call'd, 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 
 With Friendship and Philosophy retir'd, 
 Tully, whose powerful eloquence awhile 
 Restrain'd the rapid fate of rushing Borne. 
 Unconquer'd Cato, virtuous in extreme : 
 And thou, unhappy Brutus, kind of heart, 
 Whose steady arm, by awful virtue urg'd, 
 Lifted the Boman steel against thy friend. 
 Thousands besides the tribute of a verse 
 Demand ; but who can count the stars of heaven 
 Who sing their influence on this lower world ? 
 
 Behold, who yonder comes ! in sober state, 
 Fair, mild, and strong, as is a vernal sun : 
 Tis Phoebus' self, or else the Mantuan Swain ! 
 Great Homer too appears, of daring wing, 
 Parent of song ! and equal by his side, 
 The British 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 th' impassion'd heart, and charm'd 
 Transported Athens with the moral scene ; 
 * Kcgulus.
 
 192 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Nor those who, tuneful, wak'd th' enchanting lyre. 
 
 First of your kind ! society divine ! 
 Still visit thus my nights, for you reservM, 
 And mount my soaring soul to thoughts like yours. 
 Silence, thou lonely power ! the door be thine ; 
 See on the hallow'd hour that none intrude, 
 Save a few chosen friends, who sometimes deign 
 To bless my humble roof, with sense refin'd, 
 Learning 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 warm the heart ? 
 For though not sweeter his own Homer sings, 
 Yet is his life the more endearing song. 
 
 Where art thou, Hammond ? thou, the darling pride, 
 The friend and lover of the tuneful throng ! 
 Ah why, dear youth, in all the blooming prime 
 Of vernal genius, where disclosing fast 
 Each active worth, each manly virtue lay, 
 Why wert thou ravish'd from our hope so soon ? 
 What now avails that noble thirst of fame, 
 Which stung thy fervent breast ? that treasur'd store 
 Of knowledge, early gaiii'd ? that eager zeal 
 To serve thy country, glowing in the band 
 Of youthful patriots, who sustain her name ; 
 What now, alas ! that life-diffusing charm 
 Of sprightly wit ? that rapture for the Muse, 
 That heart of friendship, and that soul of joy,
 
 WINTKR. 193 
 
 Which ) >;v> U' with softest light thy virtues smile ? 
 Ah ! only show'd, to check our fond pursuits, 
 A IK 1 teach our humbled hopes that life is vain ! 
 
 Thus in some deej>_retimneut would I jwvtvs 
 The winter glooms, with friends of pliant soul, 
 Or blithe, or solemn, as the theme iuspir'd : 
 With till-in would search, if Nature's boundless frame 
 Was call'd, late-riding from the void of night, 
 Or sprung eternal from t h : ternal Mind ; 
 Its life, its laws, its progress, and its end. 
 Hence larger prospects of the beauteous whole 
 Would, gradual, open on our openiug niiuds ; 
 And each diffusive harmony unite 
 In full perfection, to t IT astouish'd eye. 
 Then would we try to scan the moral world, 
 Which^ though to use it seems embroil'd, moves on 
 liTTugher order ; fitted and irnpell'd 
 By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all 
 III general good. The sage historic Muse 
 Should next conduct us through the deejw of time ; 
 Show us how empire grew, declin'd, and fell, 
 In scatter'd states ; what makes the nations smile, 
 Improves their soil, and gives them double suns ; 
 And why they pine beneath the brightest skies, 
 tn 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
 
 194 THE SEASONS. 
 
 In powerless humble fortune, to repress 
 
 These ardent risings of the kindling soul ; 
 
 Then, even superior to ambition, we 
 
 Would learn the private virtues ; how to glide 
 
 Through shades and plains, along the smoothest 
 
 stream 
 
 Of rural life : or suatch'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, 
 Rises from state to state, and world to world. 
 But when with these the serious thought is foil'd, 
 We, shifting for relief, would play the shapes 
 Of frolic fancy ; and incessant form 
 Those rapid pictures, that assembled train 
 Of fleet ideas, never join'd before, 
 Whence lively Wit excites to gay susprise ; 
 Or folly-painting Humour, grave himself, 
 ^ Calls Laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve. 
 
 Meantime the village rouses up the fire ; 
 While well attested, and as well believ'd, 
 Heard solemn, goes the goblin story round ; 
 Till superstitious horror creeps o'er all. 
 Or, frequent in the sounding 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, snatr-h'd hasty from the side-long maid,
 
 WINTER. 196 
 
 Oil purpose guardless, or pretending sleep : 
 The leap, the slap, the haul ; and shook to notes 
 Of native music, the respondent dance. 
 Thus jocund fleets with them the winter night. 
 
 The city swarms intense. The public haunt, 
 Full of each theme 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 total ruin, honour, virtue, peace, 
 Friends, families, and fortune, headlong sink. 
 Up-springs the dance along the lighted dome, 
 Mix'd, and evolv'd, a thousand sprightly ways. 
 The glittering court effuses every pomp ; 
 The circle deepens ; beam'd from gaudy robes, 
 Tapers, and sparkling gems, and radiant eyes, 
 A soft effulgence o'er the palace waves : 
 While, a gay insect in his summer shine, 
 The fop, light-fluttering, spreads his mealy wings. 
 
 Dread o'er the scene, the ghost of Hamlet stalks ; 
 Othello rages ; poor Monimia mourns ; 
 And Belvidera pours her soul in love. 
 Terror alarms the breast ; the comely tear 
 Steals o'er the cheek ; or else the Comic Muse 
 Holds to the world a picture of itself, 
 And raises sly the fair impartial laugh. 
 Sometimes she lifts her strain, and paints the scenes 
 Of beauteous life ; whate'er can deck mankind,
 
 196 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Or charm the heart, in generous Bevil* show'd. 
 
 O thou, whose wisdom, 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 the shades again she humbly flies, 
 Indulge her fond ambition, in thy train, 
 (For every Muse has in thy train a place) 
 To mark thy various full-accomplish'd mind : 
 To mark that spirit, which, with British scorn, 
 Eejects th' allurements of corrupted power ; 
 That elegant politeness, which excels, 
 Ev'n in the judgment of presumptuous France, 
 The boasted manners of her shining court ; 
 That wit, the vivid energy of sense, 
 The truth of Nature, which with Attic point 
 And kind well-temper'd satire, smoothly keen, 
 Steals through the soul, and without pain corrects. 
 Or rising thence with yet a brighter flame 
 O let me hail thee on some glorious day, 
 When to the listening senate, ardent, crowd 
 Britannia's sons to hear her pleaded cause. 
 Then dress'd by thee, more amiably fair, 
 * A character in The Conscious Lovers, written by Sir U. Stock,
 
 WINTER. 197 
 
 Truth the soft robe of mild persuasion wears : 
 
 Thou to assenting reason giv'st again 
 
 Her own enlighten'd thoughts ; call'd from t.Jie heart, 
 
 Th' obedient passions on thy voice attend ; 
 
 And ev'n reluctant party feels awhile 
 
 Thy gracious power : as through the varied maze 
 
 Of eloquence, now smooth, now quick, now strong, 
 
 Profound and clear, you roll the copious flood. 
 
 To thy lov'd haunt, return, my happy Muse : 
 For now, behold, the joyous winter days, 
 Frosty, succeed ; and through the blue serene, 
 For sight too fine, th' ethereal nitre flies ; 
 Killing infectious damps, and the spent air 
 Storing afresh with elemental life. 
 Close crowds the shining atmosphere ; and binds 
 Our streugthen'd bodies in its cold embrace, 
 Constringent ; feeds, and animates our blood ; 
 Refines our spirits, through the new-strung nerves, 
 In swifter sallies darting to the brain ; 
 Where sits the soul, intense, collected, cool, 
 Bright as the skies, and as the season keen 
 All Nature feels 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 year. 
 A stronger glow sits on the lively cheek 
 Of ruddy fire : and luculent along 
 The purer rivers flow ; their sullen deep
 
 198 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Transparent, open to the shepherd's gaze, 
 And murmur hoarser at the fixing frost. 
 
 What art thou, frost? and whence art thy keen stores 
 Deriv'd, thou secret all-invading power, 
 Whom even th' illusive fluid cannot fly ? 
 Is not thy potent energy, unseen, 
 Myriads of little salts, or hook'd, or shap'd 
 Like double wedges, and diffus'd immense 
 Through water, earth, and ether ? hence at eve, 
 Steam'd eager from the red horizon round, 
 With the fierce rage of Winter deep suffus'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, 
 Rustles no more ; but to the sedgy bank 
 Fast grows, or gathers round the pointed stone, 
 A crystal pavement, by the breath of heaven 
 Cemented firm ; till, seiz'd from shore to shore, 
 The whole imprison'd river growls below. 
 Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects 
 A double noise ; while, at his evening watch, 
 The village dog deters the nightly thief ; 
 The heifer lows ; the distant waterfall 
 Swells in the breeze ; and, with the hasty tread 
 Of traveller, the hollow-sounding plain 
 Shakes from afar. The full ethereal round, 
 Infinite worlds disclosing to the view, 
 Shines out intensely keen ; and, all one cope
 
 WINTKR. 199 
 
 Of starry glitter, glows from pole to pole. 
 From pole to pole the rigid influence falls, 
 Through the still night, incessant, heavy, strong, 
 And seizes Nature fast. It freezes on ; 
 Till Morn, late-rising o'er the drooping world, 
 Lifts her pale eye unjoyous. Then appears 
 The various labour of the silenfnight : 
 Prone from the dripping eave, and dumb cascade 
 Whose idle torrents only seem to roar, 
 The pendent icicle ; the frost-work fair, 
 Where transient hues, and fancied figures 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 
 His pining flock, or from the mountain top, 
 Fleas'd with the slippery surface, swift descends. 
 On blithsome 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 dissolv'd ; where mixing glad, 
 Happiest of all the train ! the raptur'd boy 
 Lashes the whirling top. Or, where the Rhine 
 Branch'd out in many a long canal extends, 
 From every province swarming, void of care, , 
 
 Batavia rushes forth ; and as they sweep, 
 On sounding skates, a thousand different way*,
 
 200 THE SEASONS. 
 
 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 wheel 
 The long-resounding course. Meantime to raise 
 The manly strife, with highly blooming charms, 
 Flush'd by the season, Scandinavia's dames, 
 Or Russia's buxom daughters, glow around. 
 
 Pure, quick, and sportful, is the wholesome day 
 But soon elaps'd. The horizontal sun, 
 Broad o'er the south, hangs at his utmost noon : 
 And, ineffectual, strikes the gelid cliff : 
 His azure gloss the mountain still maintains, 
 Nor feels the feeble touch. Perhaps the vale 
 Relents awhile to the reflected ray : 
 Or from the forest falls the cluster'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 the shot, 
 Worse than the Season, desolate the fields ; 
 And, adding to the ruins of the year, 
 Distress the footed or the feather'd game. 
 
 But what is this ? our infant Winter sinks, 
 Divested of his grandeur, should our eye 
 Astonish'd shoot into the frigid zone ; 
 Where, for relentless months, continual Night 
 Holds o'er the glittering waste her starry reign.
 
 WINTKU. 201 
 
 There, through the prison of unbounded wilds, 
 BaiVd by the hand of Nature from esca]H-, 
 Wide roams the Russian exile. Nought around 
 Strikes his 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 
 Bends to the golden coast of rich Cathay,* 
 With news of humankind. Yet there life glows ; 
 Yet cherish'd there, beneath the shining waste, 
 The furry nations harbour : tipp'd with jet, 
 Fair ermines, spotless as the snows they press ; 
 Sables, of glossy black ; and dark-embrown'd, \ 
 Or beauteous freak'd with many a mingled hu, 
 Thousands besides, the costly pride of courts. 
 There, warm together press'd, the trooping deer 
 Sleep on the new-fall'n snows ; and scarce his head 
 Rais'd o'er the heapy wreath, the branching elk 
 Lies slumbering sullen in the white abyss. 
 The ruthless hunter wants nor dogs nor toils, 
 Nor with the dread of sounding bows he drives 
 The fearful flying race ; with ponderous clubs, 
 AH weak against the mountain-heaps they push 
 Their beating breast in vain, and piteous bray, 
 He lays them quivering on th' ensanguin'd snows 
 And with loud shouts rejoicing bears them home. 
 * The oM name for China.
 
 202 THE SEASONS. 
 
 There through the piny forest half-absorpt, 
 Rough tenant of these shades, the shapeless bear, 
 With dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn ; 
 Slow-pac'd, and sourer as the storms increase, 
 He makes his bed beneath th' inclement drift, 
 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, 
 Who little pleasure know, and fear no pain, 
 Prolific swarm. They once relum'd the flame 
 Of lost mankind in polish'd slavery sunk, 
 Drove martial horde on horde, t with dreadful sweep 
 Resistless rushing o'er th' enfeebled south, 
 And gave the vanquish'd world another form. 
 Not such the sons of Lapland : wisely they 
 Despise th' insensate barbarous trade of war ; 
 They ask no more than simple Nature gives, 
 They love their mountains, and enjoy their storms. 
 No false desires, no pride-created wants, 
 Disturb the peaceful current of their time ; 
 And through the restless ever-tortur'd maze 
 Of pleasure, or ambition, bid it rage. 
 Their rein-deer form their riches. These their tents, 
 Their robes, their beds, and all their homely wealth 
 Supply, their wholesome fare and cheerful cups. 
 
 * The North-west wind. 
 t The wandering Scythian clans
 
 WINTER. 203 
 
 Obsequious at their call, the docile tribe 
 
 Yield to the sled their necks, and whirl them swift 
 
 O'er hill and dale, heap'd into one expanse 
 
 Of marbled snow, as far as eye can sweep 
 
 With a blue crust of ice unbounded glaz'd. 
 
 By dancing meteors then, that ceaseless shake 
 
 A waving blaze refracted o'er the heavens, 
 
 And vivid moons, and stars that keener play 
 
 Wil^idoubjedjustre from the glossy waste, 
 
 Ev'n in the depth of polar night, they find 
 
 A wondrous day : enough to light the chase, 
 
 Or guide their daring steps to Finland fairs. 
 
 Wish'd Spring returns ; and from the hazy south, 
 
 While dim Aurora slowly move* before, 
 
 The welcome sun, just verging up at first, 
 
 By small degrees extends the swelling curve ! 
 
 Till seen at last for gay rejoicing months, 
 
 Still round and round, his spiral course he winds, 
 
 And as he nearly dips his flaming orb, 
 
 Wheels up again, and reascends the sky. 
 
 In that glad season, from the lakes and floods, 
 
 Where pure Niemi's* fairy mountains rise, 
 
 * M. de Maupertuis, in his book on the Figure of the Earth, 
 after having described the beautiful lake and mountain of 
 Niemi, in Lapland, says, ''From this height we had oppor- 
 tunity several times to see those vapours rise from the lake 
 which the people of the country call Haltios, and which they 
 deem to be the guardian-spirits of the mountains. We had 
 been frighted with stories of bears that haunted this place, 
 hut saw none. It seemed rather a place of resort for fairies 
 and genii, than bears."
 
 204 
 
 THE SRASONS. 
 
 And fring'd with roses Tenglio * rolls his stre.im, 
 
 They draw the copious fry. With these, at eve, ' 
 
 They cheerful loaded to their tents repair ; 
 
 Where, all day long in useful cares employ'd, 
 
 Their kind unblemish'd wives the fire prepare. 
 
 Thrice happy race ! by poverty secur'd 
 
 From legal plunder and rapacious power : 
 
 In whom fell interest never yet has sown 
 
 The seeds of vice : whose spotless swains ne'er knew 
 
 Injurious deed, nor blasted by the breath 
 
 Of faithless love, their blooming daughters woe. 
 
 Still pressing on, beyond Tornea's lake, 
 And Hecla flaming through a waste of snow, 
 And furthest Greenland, to the pole itself, 
 Where, falling gradual, life at length goes out, 
 The Muse expands her solitary flight ; 
 And, hovering o'er the wild, stupendous scene, 
 Beholds new seas beneath another sky.t 
 Thron'd in his palace of cerulean ice, 
 Here Winter holds his unrejoicing court ; 
 And through his airy hall the loud misrule 
 Of driving tempest is for ever heard : 
 Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath ; 
 Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost ; 
 Moulds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows, 
 With which he now oppresses half the globe. 
 
 *The same author observes, "I was surprised to see upon 
 the banks of this river (the Tenglio) roses of as lively a red as 
 any that are in our gardens." 
 
 fThe other hemisphere.
 
 WINTER. 205 
 
 Thence, winding eastward to the Tartar's 
 She sweeps the howling margin of the main ; 
 Where undissolving, from the first ofgtime, 
 Snows swell ou snows amazing to the 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, 
 As if old Chaos was again return'd, 
 Wide-reud the deep, and shake the solid pole. 
 Ocean itself no longer can resist 
 The binding fury ; but, in all its rage 
 Of tempest taken by the boundless frost, 
 Is many a fathom to the bottom chain'd, 
 And bid to roar no more : a bleak expanse 
 Shagg'd o'er with wavy rocks, cheerless, and void 
 Of every life, that from the dreary months 
 Flies conscious southward. Miserable they ! 
 Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, 
 Take their last look of the descending sun ; 
 While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost 
 The long, long night, incumbent o'er their heads, 
 Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's* fate, 
 As with first prow, (what have not Britons dar"d ?) 
 He for the passage sought, attempted since 
 So much in vain, and seeming to be shut 
 
 * Hit Hugh Willoughby, sent by Queen Elizabeth to discover 
 the north-east passage.
 
 206 THK SEASONS. 
 
 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 reara 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 unjoyous cheer, 
 They 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. 
 
 What cannot active government perform, 
 New moulding man? Wide-stretching from these 
 
 shores, 
 
 A people savage from remotest time, 
 A huge neglected empire, one vast mind, 
 By Heaven inspir'd, from gothic darkness call'd. 
 Immortal Peter ! first of monarchs ! he 
 His stubborn country tani'd, her rocks, her fens,
 
 WINTER. 2O7 
 
 Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting ons ; 
 
 And while the fierce barbarian he subdu'd, 
 
 To more exalted soul he rais'd the man. 
 
 Ye shades of ancient heroes, ye who toil'd 
 
 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 lai<l aside, with glorious hand 
 
 Unwearied plying the mechanic tool, 
 
 Gathered the seeds of trade, of useful arts, 
 
 of civil wisdom, and of martial skill. 
 
 Charg'd with the stores of Europe home he goes ! 
 
 Then cities rise amid th' illumin'd waste ; 
 
 O'er joyless deserts smiles the rural reign ; 
 
 Far distant flood to flood is social joiu'd ; 
 
 Th' astonish 'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar ; 
 
 Proud navies ride on seas that never foam'd 
 
 With daring keel before ; and armies stretch 
 
 Each way their dazzling files, repressing here 
 
 The frantic Alexander of the north, 
 
 And awing there stern Othman's shrinking sous. 
 
 Sloth flies the laud, and Ignorance, and Vice, 
 
 Of old dishonour proud : it glows around, 
 
 Taught by the Royal Hand that rous'd the whole 
 
 One scene of arts, of arms, of rising trade :
 
 208 THE 8EASUKS. 
 
 For what his wisdom plaau'd, and power enfovc'd, 
 More potent still, his great example show'd. 
 
 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 once it bursts, 
 And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds. 
 Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charg ; d, 
 That, tost amid the floating fragments, moors 
 Beneath the shelter of an icy isle, 
 While night o'erwhelms the sea, and horror looks 
 More horrible. Can human force endure 
 Th' 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 round the main. 
 More to embroil the deep, Leviathan,
 
 WIXTKR. 20'J 
 
 And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, 
 
 Tempest the loosen'd brine, while through the gloom, 
 
 F;ir from the bleak inhospitable shon-, 
 
 Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl 
 
 Of famish'.! monsters, there awaiting wrecks. 
 
 Yet Providence, that ever- waking eye, 
 
 Looks down with pity on the feeble toil 
 
 Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe, 
 
 Through all this dreary labyrinth of fate. 
 
 Tis done ! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, 
 And reigns tremendous o'er the eonquerM Year. 
 How dead the vegetable kingdom lies ! 
 How dumb the tuneful ! horror wide extends 
 His desolate domain. Behold, fond man ! 
 See here thy pictur"d life ; pass some few years. 
 Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength, 
 Thy sober Autumn fading into age, 
 And pale concluding Winter comes at last, 
 And shuts the scene. Ah ! whither now are fled 
 Those dreams of greatness ? those unsolid hopes 
 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 'I 
 All now are vanish'd ! Virtue sole survives, 
 Immortal never-failing friend of Man, 
 His guide to happiness on high. And see ! 
 Tis come, the glorious morn ! the second birth
 
 '2}Q THE SEASONS. 
 
 Of heaven and earth ! awakening Nature hears 
 
 The new-creating word, and starts to life, 
 
 In every heighten'd form, from pain and death 
 
 For ever free. The great eternal scheme, , 
 
 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 that Power 
 
 And Wisdom oft arraign'd : see now the cause, 
 
 Why unassuming worth in secret liv'd, 
 
 And died, neglected : why the good man's share 
 
 In life was gall and bitterness of soul : 
 
 Why 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 heaven-born truth, 
 
 And moderation fair, wore the red marks 
 
 Of superstition's scourge : why licens'd pain, 
 
 That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe, 
 
 Embitter'd all our bliss. Ye_good distress'd ! 
 
 Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand 
 
 Beneath life's pressure, yet bear 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.
 
 There let 1i.e sluepherds flute, tke virgiiis lay, 
 Still sing" the GOD OF SEASON'S, as they roll '._ 
 
 i>HAWN BY HfCIIABn WESTALL.-R.A.ENGRAVED BY CHARLES KOF.L
 
 HYMN. 
 
 THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these 
 Are but the varied GOD. The rolling year 
 Is full of THEE. Forth in the pleasing Spring 
 THY^ beauty walks, THY tenderness and love. 
 Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; 
 Echo the mountains round : the forest smiles ; 
 And every sense, and every heart is joy. 
 Then comes THY glory in the Summer months, 
 With light and heat refulgent. Then THY sun 
 Shoots full perfection through the swelling year : 
 And oft THY voice in dreadful thunder speaks : 
 And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, 
 By brooks and groves, in hollow- whispering gales. 
 THY bounty shines in Autumn uncontin'd, 
 And spreads a common feast for all that lives. 
 In Winter awful THOU ! with clouds and storms 
 Around THEE thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd. 
 Majestic darkness ! on the whirlwind's wing, 
 Riding sublime, THOU bidst the world adore, 
 And humblest Nature with THY northern blast. 
 
 Mysterious round ! what skill, what force divine, 
 Deep felt, in these appear ! a simple train,
 
 212 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Yet so delightful mix'd, with such kind art, 
 Such beauty and beneficence combin'd ; 
 Shade, imperceiv'd, so softening into shade ; 
 And all so forming an harmonious whole ; 
 That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. 
 But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, 
 Man marks not THEE, marks not the mighty hand 
 That, ever-busy, wheels the silent spheres ; 
 Works in the secret deep ; shoots, steaming, thence 
 The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring : 
 Flings from the sun direct the flaming day ; 
 Feeds every creature ; hurls the tempest forth ; 
 And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, 
 With transport touches all the springs of life. 
 
 Nature, attend ! join every living soul, 
 Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, 
 In adoration join ; and, ardent, raise 
 One general song ! To HIM, ye vocal gales, 
 Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your freshness breathes 
 Oh, talk of HIM in solitary glooms ! 
 Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine 
 Fills the brown shade with a religious awe. 
 And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar, 
 Who shake th' astonish'd world, lift high to heaven 
 Th' impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. 
 His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills : 
 And let me catch it as I muse along. 
 Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound ; 
 Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze
 
 HYMN. 213 
 
 Along the vale ; and thou, majestic main, 
 
 A secret world of wonders in thyself, 
 
 Sound His stupendous praise ; whose greater voice 
 
 Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. 
 
 Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, 
 
 In mingled clouds to HIM ; whose sun exalts, 
 
 Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints. 
 
 Ye forests bend, ye harvests wave to HIM ; 
 
 Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, 
 
 As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. 
 
 Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep 
 
 Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, 
 
 Ye constellations, while your angels strike, 
 
 Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. 
 
 Great source of day ! best image here below 
 
 Of thy CREATOR, ever pouring wide, 
 
 From world to world, the vital ocean round, 
 
 On Nature write with every beam His praise. 
 
 The Thunder rolls : be hush'd the prostrate world : 
 
 While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. 
 
 Bleat out afresh, ye hills : ye mossy rocks, 
 
 Retain the sound : the broad responsive lowe, 
 
 Ye valleys, raise ; for the GREAT SHKPHKRD reigns ; 
 
 And His nimutfering kingdom yet will come. 
 
 Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song 
 
 Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, 
 
 Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, 
 
 Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela charm 
 
 The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
 
 214 THE SEASONS. 
 
 Ye chief, for whom the whole creation smiles, 
 At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all, 
 Crown the great hymn ; in swarming cities vast, 
 Assembled men, to the deep organ join 
 The long-resounding voice, oft-breaking clear, 
 At solemn pauses, through the swelling base ; 
 And, as each mingling flame increases each, 
 In one united ardour rise to heaven. 
 Or if you rather choose the rural shade, 
 And find a fane in every sacred grove ; 
 There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, 
 The prompting seraph and the poet's lyre, 
 Still sing the GOD OF SEASONS, as they roll ! 
 For me, when I forget the darling theme, 
 Whether the blossom blows, the summer-ray 
 Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, 
 Or Winter rises in the blackening east ; 
 Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, 
 And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! 
 
 Should fate command me to the furthest verge 
 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, 
 Rivers unknown to song ; where first the sun 
 Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam 
 Flames on th' Atlantic isles ; 'tis nought to me : 
 Since GOD is ever present, ever felt, 
 In the void waste as in the city full ; 
 And where HE vital breathes there must be joy. 
 When even at last the solemn hour shall come, 
 And wing my mystic flight to future worlds,
 
 HVMV -_MO 
 
 I cheerful will obey ; there, with new lowers, 
 
 Will rising wonders sing : I cannot go 
 
 Where Universal Love not smiles around, 
 
 Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their sous ; 
 
 From seeming Evil still educing Good, 
 
 And better thence again, and better still, 
 
 In infinite progression. But I lose 
 
 Myself in HIM, in Light ineffable ? 
 
 Come then, expressive Silence, muse His praise. 
 
 THE END.
 
 
 GLASGOW : 
 
 f)rinUt> at the Slnitotrsitg JJrese, bj> 
 
 ROBEKT MACLRIIOSE, 153 WEST NII.K STRKET
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 
 
 COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below. 
 
 tf era 
 
 
 m 178U DAY 
 KEC'D COL. UB. 
 
 MAY 311978 
 
 4 NCW78 
 
 14 DAY 
 
 3 
 2 5 NOV '83 14 DAY 
 
 REC'D CLNOV30* 
 
 ?ECCL 
 
 B3 
 
 Book Slip Series 4280
 
 UCLA-College Library 
 
 PR 3732 S43 1889 
 
 L 005 763 438 8 
 
 LIB 
 
 PR 
 
 3733 
 SVj 
 
 1889 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY