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Full text of "The Seasons: By James Thomson; with His Life, an Index, and Glossary. ... and Notes to The ..."

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1- 

4JUN1930) 



^R^$^ 



to 

Toe right honourable 

THE 

EARL OF BUCHAN. 



My L0RI>, London^ Jan. 19, 1793. 

I WELL remember that I attended 
Mr. Gregorie's mathematical lectures, with 
Vou, at St. Andrews. As an apology for 
thus recollecting those meetings, which 
produced no intimacy between us, I can 
only say, that the recollection is not alto- 
gether foreign to this Address ; — that it is 
not altogether impertinent. I should never 
have thought of dedicating to your Lord- 
ship a very elegant Edition of four beautiful 
Poems of your illustrious Countryman, on 
account of accidental facts; on account of 
trivial circumstances. Nor is your rank, my 

a 



11 DEDICATION. 

Lord, the ruling motive which impells me 
to request the honour of your attention : 
for mere rank gives ornament, and dignity 
to no man. But I observe, with pleasure, 
that Ton derive splendour, and consequence, 
from Birth, and Title; — for you have repeat- 
edly convinced the world, that you regard in- 
tellectual honours more than them; — by your 
conduct, you seem to think them a reproach, 
unless they receive the reflected lustre of a 
cultivated, and generous mind- 

It is evident, from the manners of many 
of our modern nobility,, that their theory is 
diametrically opposite to yours ; — that they 
deem the advantages of institution, infalli- 
ble dispensations from acquiring knowledge, 
and virtue. If this remark should be thought 
satirical, it is neither personal, nor false; 
therefore it is a moral truth. 

The motives, I hope, are, now, evident, 
from which I dedicate the Seasons of 
Thomson to the Earl of Buchan. 

You, my Lord, have the strongest claims 
to the esteem, and respect, of an unfortu- 
nate, and persecuted authour, but who is far 



^•« 



DEDICATION. HI 

from being unhappy. His satisfaction, in- 
deed, arises from those objects, of which it 
has been impossible for power, and malice 
to deprive him. The tribute, which, on 
several occasions, you have been zealous, 
and industrious to pay to distinguished 
merit, shows that you would effectually have 
removed the calamities of some eminent lite- 
rary men ; from which they were neither 
exempted by genius, nor by celebrity; if 
You had been their countryman, and cotein- 
porary; and if the extent of your power 
had been equal to the ardour of your gene- 
rosity. 

" Faring like my friends before me;" — 
faring far better than those infinitely supe- 
riour, and great men, to whose memories 
I bow, with veneration, who make me 
*' glow while I read, but tremble as I write;" 
I eagerly seize an opportunity of publickly 
addressing your Lordship, when I consider 
what would have been the substance, and 
complexion of their fate, if it had been 
determined by you. If there had been such 
a happy coincidence of times, and persons, 
a 2 



iV DEDICATION. 

Camoens would not have languished, and 
expired, in distress, at Lisbon; Cervan- 
tes would not have perished, by want, in 
the streets of Madrid; he would have lived, 
and died in affluence, if Phii-ip had been 
animated with a soul like yours; — and Butler, 
and Otway would not have starved; they 
would have enjoyed all the real blessings of 
a rich, and free country; if it had been 
possible for independent worth, like yours, 
to have been a courtier of Charles the 
Second, 

I flatter myself that your Lordship 
will candidly accept a Dedication, of which 
you have no reason to doubt the sincerity. 
I haye long been elevated above adulation ; if 
ever my heartwas tainted with thatdespicable 
vice. The sipirit of a man is often rendered 
mean, and object, by a long series of misfor- 
tunes ; I will not hypocritically regret, that 
they h^ve had ^ contrary effect on mifte. I 
will endeavour to m^ke it my practice to op-r 
pose ^ calm, and determined pride, to an 
obstinate, and unrelenting adversity. Though 
I have given an invidious name to thi§ ^ffec» 



DEDICATION. V 

tion of the mind, it must be far from imply- 
ing a moral obliquity ; for it is as clearly 
demonstrated by it's nature, and effects, as 
by the disposition, and external causes, from 
which it originates, that it is the reverse of 
that sordid, and insolent pride, which is a 
consequence of the acquisition of wealth, and 
power ; therefore I hope that it is congenial 
with virtue. 



I have the honour to be, 
MY LORD, 
Your Lordship's most obedient. 

And most humble Servant, 

PERCIVAL STOCKDALE. 



THE LIFE 

OF 

JAMES THOMSON. 



JAMES THOMSON was bom September 
the 7th, 1700, at Ednam, in the shire 
of Roxburgh, of which his father was pastor. 
His mother, whose name was Hume, was 
co-heiress of a small estate in that country. 
It was probably in commiseration of the 
difficulty with which Mr. Thomson's father 
supported his family, having nine children, 
that Mr. Riccarton, a neighbouring minister, 
dicovering in James uncommon promises of 
future excellence, undertook to superintend 
his education, and provide him books. 

He was taught the common rudiments of 
learning at the school of Jedburg, a place 
which he delights to recollect in his poem 
of " Autumn;" but was not considered by 
his master as superior to common boys, 
though in those early days he amused his 
patron and his friends with poetical compo- 
sitions; with which, however, he so little 
pleased himself, that on every new-year's 



Via LIFE OF THOMSON. 

day he threw into the fire all the produc- 
tions of the foregoing year. 

From the school he was removed to Edin^ 
burgh, where he had not resided two years 
when his father died, and left all his chil- 
dren to the care of their mother, who raised 
upon her little estate what money a mort- 
gage could afford, and, removing with her 
family to Edinburgh, lived to see her son 
rising into eminence. 

The design of Thomson's friends was to 
breed him a minister. He lived at Edin- 
burgh, as at school, without distinction or 
expectation, till, at the usual time, he per- 
formed a probationary exercise by explain- 
ing a psalm. His diction was so poetically 
splendid, that Mr. Hamilton, the professor 
of divinity, reproved him for speaking 
language unintelligible to a popular audi- 
ence. 

This rebuke is said to have repressed hi» 
thoughts of an ecclesiastical character, and 
he probably cultivated with new diligence hid 
talent for poetry, which, however, was in 
some danger of a blast; for submitting his 
productions to some who thought themselves^ 
qualified to criticise, he heard of nothing 
but faults; but finding other judges more 
favourable, he did not suffer himself to sink 
into absolute despondence. 



LIFE OF THOMSONi IX 

He easily discovered that the only stage 
on which a poet could appear, with any 
hope of advantage, was London ; a place 
too wide for the operation of petty compe- 
tition and private malignity ; where merit 
might soon become conspicuous, and would 
find friends as soon as it became reputable to 
befriend it. A lady, who was acquainted 
with his mother, advised him to the journey, 
and promised some countenance and assist- 
ance, which however he never received. 

At his arrival in town he found his way 
to Mr. Mallet, then tutor to the sons of the 
duke of Montrose* He had recommenda- 
tions to several persons of consequence, 
which he had tied up carefully in his hand- 
kerchief ; but as he passed along the street, 
with the gaping curiosity of a new-comer, 
his attention was upon every thing rather 
than his pocket, and his magazine of cre- 
dentials was stolen from him^ 

H I s first want 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, Mn Millar a book- 
seller in the Strand was persuaded to buy 
it at a low price ; and this low price he had 
for some time reason to regret ; but, by ac- 
cident, Mr. Whatley, a man not wholly 
unknown among authors, happening to turn 
his eye upon it, was so delig'hted [that he 

b 



X LIFE OF THOMSON. 

ran from place to place celebrating its ex- 
cellence. Thomson obtained likewise the 
notice of Aaron Hill, whom (being friend- 
less and indigent, and glad of kindness) he 
courted with every expression of servile adu- 
lation. 

" Winter'' was dedicated to Sir Spencer 
Compton, but attracted no regard from him 
to the author ; till Aaron Hill awakened his 
attention by some verses addressed to Thom- 
son, and published in one of the newspapers, 
which censured the great for their neglect 
of ingenious men. Thomson then received 
a present of twenty guineas, of which he 
gives this account to Mr. Hill : 

" I HINTED to you in my last, that on 
" Saturday morning I was with Sir Spencer 
** Compton. A certain gentleman, without 
^^ my desire, spoke to him concerning me: 
** his answer was, that I had never come 
" near him. Then the gentleman put the 
** question. If he desired that I should wait 
** on him ? he returned, he did. On this, 
.** the gentleman gave me an introductory 
*^ letter to him. He received me in what 
** they commonly call a civil manner; asked 
" me some common-place questions; and 
** made me a present of twenty guineas. I 
** am very ready to own that the present 
•• was larger than my performance deserved ; 
l^ and shall ascribe it to his generosity, or 



LIFE OF THOMSON- 



XI 



** any other cause, rather than the merit of 
^* the address/' 

The poem, which, being of a new kind, 
few would venture at first to like, by degrees 
gained upon the public; and one edition was 
very speedily succeeded by another. 

Thomson's credit was now high, and every 
day brought him new friends; among others 
Dr, Rundle, a man afterwards unfortunately 
famous, sought his acquaintance, and found 
his qualities such, that he recommended him 
to the lord chancellor Talbot. 

** Winter*' was accompanied, in many 
editions, not only with a preface and dedica- 
tion, but with poetical praises by Mr. Hill, 
Mr. Mallet (then Malloch), and Mira, the 
fictitious name of a lady once too well known. 
Why the dedications to '* Winter" and the 
other Seasons, are, contrarily to custom, left 
out in the collected w^orks, is not known. 

The next year (1727) he distinguished 
himself by three publications; of " Summer," 
in pursuance of his plan ; of " A Poem on 
" the Death of Sir Isaac Newton," which he 
was enabled to perform as an exact philo- 
sopher by the instruction of Mr. Gray; and 
of*' Britannia," a kind of poetical invective 
against the ministry, whom the nation then 
thought not forward enough in resenting the 
depredations of the Spaniards* By this piece 
he declared himself an adherent to the oppo- 

b s 



Xll LIFE OF THOMSOK. 

sition, and had therefore no favour to expect 
from the court. 

Thomson, having been some time enter- 
tained in the family of lord Binning, was 
desirous of testifying his gratitude by making 
him the patron of his " Summer;" but the 
same kindness which had first disposed lord 
Binning to encourage him, determined him 
to refuse the dedication, which was by his 
advice addressed to Mr. Dodington, a man 
who had more power to advance the reputa- 
tion and fortune of the poet. 

^^ Spring" was published next year, with a 
dedication to the countess of Hertford ; whose 
practice it was to invite every summer some 
poet into the country, to hear her verses and 
assist her studies. This honour was one sum- 
mer conferred on Thomson, who took more 
delight in carousing with lord Hertford and 
his friends, than assisting her ladyship's poe- 
tical operations, and therefore never received 
another summons. 

" Autumn," the season to which the 

^' Spring" and " Summer" are preparatory, 

still remained unsung, and was delayed till 

he published (1730) his works collected*. 

He produced in 1727 the tragedy of " So- 

• The autumn was his favourite season for poetical 
compositions, and the deep silence of the night, the time 
he commonly chose for study j fp that he was often heard 
walking in his library, repeating what he was to correct ox 
write out the next day. 



LIFE OF THOMSON. xHl 

" phonisba/' which raised such expectation, 
that every rehearsal was dignified with a 
splendid audience, collected to anticipate the 
delight that was preparing for the public. 
It was observed, however, that nobody was 
much affected, and that the company rose as 
from a moral lecture. 

Thomson was not long afterwards, by the 
influence of Dr. Rundle, sent to travel with 
Mr. Charles Talbot, the eldest son of the 
Chancellor. He was yet young enough to 
receive new impressions, to have his opinions 
rectified, and his views enlarged ; nor can he 
be supposed to have wanted that curiosity 
which is inseparable from an active and 
comprehensive mind. He may therefore 
now be supposed to have revelled in all the 
joys of intellectual luxury ; he was every day 
feasted with instructive novelties; he lived 
splendidly without expence; and might ex- 
pect when he returned home a certain esta- 
blishment. 

At this time a long course of opposition to 
Sir Robert Walpole had filled the nation with 
clamours for liberty, of which no man felt 
the want, and with care for liberty, which 
was not in danger. Thomson, in his travels 
on the continent, found or fancied so many 
evils arising from the tyranny of other go- 
vernments, that he resolved to write a very 
long poem, in five parts, upon Liberty. 



XkV LIFE OF THOMSON. 

While he was busy on the first book, Mr. 
Talbot died ; and Thomson, who had been 
rewarded for his attendance by the place of 
secretary of the briefs, pays in the initial 
lines a decent tribute to his memory. 

Upon this great poem two years were spent, 
and the author congratulated himself upon it 
as his noblest work; but an author and his 
reader are not always of a mind. Liberty 
called in vain upon her votaries to read her 
praises, and reward her encomiast : her praises 
were condemned to harbour spiders, and to 
gather dust. 

Thomson now lived in ease and plenty, 
and seems for a while to have suspended his 
poetry ; but he was soon called back to labour 
by the death of the Chancellor, for his place 
then became vacant; and though the lord 
Hardwicke delayed for some time to give 
it away, Thomson's bashfulness, or pride, or 
some other motive, withheld him from soli- 
citing; and the new Chancellor would not 
give him what he would not ask. 

He now relapsed to his former indigence ; 
but the prince of Wales was at that time 
struggling for popularity, and by the influ- 
ence of Mr. Lyttelton professed himself the 
patron of wit : to him Thomson was intro- 
duced, and being interrogated about the state 
of his affairs, said, " that they were in a 
** more poetical posture than formerly ;" and 



LIFE OF THOMSON. XV 

had a pension allowed him of one hundred 
pounds a year. 

Being now obliged to write, he produced 
(1738) the tragedy of Agamemnon, which 
was much shortened in the representaticm. 
It had the fate which most commonly attends 
mythological stories, and was only endured, 
but not favoured. It struggled with such 
difficulty through the first night, that Thom- 
son, coming late to his friends with whom he 
was to sup, excused his delay by telling them 
how the sweat of his distress had so disordered 
his wig, that he could not come till he had 
been refitted by a barber. 

He so interested himself in his own drama, 
that, if I remember right, as he sat in the 
upper gallery, he accompanied the {layers 
by audible recitation, till a friendly hint 
frighted him to silence. Pope countenanced 
** Agamemnon,'' by coming to it the first 
night, and was welcomed to the theatre by a 
general clap ; he had much regard for Thom- 
son, and once expressed it in a poetical Epistle 
sent to Italy. 

He was soon after employed, in cc«ijunction 
with Mr. Mallet, to write the masque of 
" Alfred," which was acted before the Prince 
at Cliefden-house. 

His next work ( 1745) was " Tancred and 
« Sigismunda/' the most successful of all his 



XVI LIFE OF THOMSOIT. 

tragedies; for it still keeps its turn upon the 
stage. 

His friend Mr. Lyttelton was now in 
power, and conferred upon him the office 
of surveyor-general of the Leeward Islands; 
from which, when his deputy was paid, he 
received about three hundred pounds a year. 

The last piece that he lived to publish was 
the " Castle of Indolence,'' which was many 
years under his hand, but was at last finished 
with great accuracy. The first canto opens 
a scene of lazy luxury, that fills the imagin- 
ation* 

He was now at ease, but was not long to 
enjoy it ; for, by taking cold on the water be- 
tween London and Kew, he caught a disor^ 
der, which terminated in a fever that put an 
end to his life, August 27, 1743. He was bu- 
ried in the church of Richmond, without an 
inscription ; but a monument has been erected 
to his memory in Westminster-abbey. 

Thomson was of stature above the mid- 
dle size, and " more fat than bard beseems/' 
of a dull countenance, and a gross, unani- 
mated, uninviting appearance; silent in 
mingled company, but cheerful among select 
friends, and by his friends very tenderly and 
warmly beloved. 

He left behind him the tragedy of " Corio- 
" lanus," which was, by the zeal of his patron 
Sir George Lyttelton, brought upon the stage 



Life of Thomson. xvii 

for the benefit of his family, and recom- 
mended by a prologue, which Quin, who 
had long lived with Thomson in fond inti- 
macy, spoke in such a manner as shewed 
him " to be,'' on that occasion, " no actor/' 
The commencement of this benevolence is 
very honourable to Quin ; who is reported to 
have delivered Thomson, then known to 
him only for his genius, from an arrest, by 
a very considerable present; and its conti- 
nuance is honourable to both; for friend- 
ship is*al ways the sequel of obligation. By this 
tragedy a considerable sum was raised, of 
which, part discharged his debts, and the 
rest was remitted to his sisters. 

The Jbienevolence of Thomson was fervid, 
but not active ; he would give on all occa- 
sions what assistance his purse would sup- 
ply; but the offices of intervention or soli- 
citation he could not conquer his sluggish- 
ness sufficiently to perform *. 

Among his peculiarities was a very un- 
skilful and inarticulate manner of pronoun- 
cing any lofty or solemn composition. He was 

* As for the distinguishing qualities of his mind and 
heart, they are better represented in his writings, than 
they can be by the pen of a biographer : There, his love of 
mankind, of his country, and his friends^ his devotion to 
the Supreme Being \ and his humanity and benevolence^ 
shine out in every page. 

C 



XVlll LIFE OP THOMSON. 

once reading to Dodington, who, being him- 
self a readereminently elegant, was so much 
provoked by his odd utterance, that he 
snatched the paper from his hands, and told 
him that he did not understand his own 
verses. 

The biographer of Thomson has remarked, 
that an author s life is best read in his works: 
his observation was not well-timed. Savage, 
who lived much with Thomson, once told me, 
how he heard a lady remarking that she could 
gather from his works three parts of his cha- 
racter, that he was a " great lover, a great 
" swimmer, and rigorously abstinent;" but, 
said Savage, he knows not any love but that 
of the sex; he was perhaps never in cold 
water in his life; and he indulges himself in 
all the luxury that comes within his reach. 
Yet Savage always spoke with the most eager 
praise of his social qualities, his warmth and 
constancy of friendship, and his adherence to 
his first acquaintance when the advancement 
of his reputation had left them behind him. 

As a writer, he is entitled to one praise of 
the highest kind : his mode of thinking, and 
of expressing his thoughts, is original. His 
blank verse is no more the blank verse of 
Milton, or (Jf any other poet, than the rhymes 
of Prior are the rhymes of Cowley. His num- 
bers, his pauses, his diction, are of his own 



LIFE OF THOMSON. . XIX 

growth, without transcription, without imi- 
tation. He thinks in a peculiar train, and he 
thinks always as a man of genius; he looks 
round on Nature and on life with the eye 
which Nature bestows only on a poet ; the 
eye that distinguishes, in every thing pre- 
sented to its view, whatever there is on which 
imagination can delight to be detained, and 
withamind thatat once comprehendsthe vast, 
and attends to the minute. The reader of 
the " Seasons" wonders that he never saw be- 
fore what Thomson shews him, and that he 
never yet has felt what Thomson impresses. 

His is one of the works in which blank 
verse seems properly used. Thomson's wide 
expansion of general views, and his enume-* 
ration of circumstantial varieties, would have 
been obstructed and embarrassed by the fre- 
quent intersection of the sense, which are 
the necessary effects of rhyme. 

His descriptions of extended scenes and 
general effects, bring before us the whole 
magnificence of Nature, whether pleasing 
or dreadful. The gaiety of Spring, the splen- 
dour of Summer, the tranquillity of Autumn, 
and the horror of Winter, take in their turns 
possession of the mind. The poet leads 
us through the appearances of things, as they 
are successively varied by the vicissitudes of 
the year, and imparts to us so much of his 

c 3 



XX LIFE OF THOMSOK. 

own enthusiasm, that our thoughts expand 
with his imagery, and kindle with his sen- 
timents. Nor is the naturalist without his 
part in the entertainment; for he is assisted 
to recollect and to combine ; to arrange his 
discoveries, and to amplify the sphere of his 
contemplation. 

His diction is in the highest degree florid 
and luxuriant, such as may be said to be to 
his images and thoughts ** both their lustre 
" and their shade ;" such as invest them with 
splendour, through which perhaps they are 
not always easily discerned. It is too exube- 
rant, and sometimes may be charged with 
filling the ear more than the mind. 

The highest praise which he has received 
ought not to be supprest : it is said by Lord 
Lyttelton, in the prologue to his posthumous 
play, that his works contained 

** No line which, dying, he couW wish tg blot,*' 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



J. £. ALMS, Chicliester, Sustex 
Col. Wm. Axtell, Chertscy, Surry 
Mr. Wm . Ame, Banbury 96 xfordfli . 

John Arch, Newington 
Meflrs. J. and A. Arch, booksellers 
and ftationers, No. 45, Lom- 
bard-ftreety 40 copies 
Mr. Archer, bookseller, Dublin, 50 
copies 
Samuel Arnold 
William Aldred, Leather-lane 

B 

Earl of Buchan 
Countess of Buckingham 
Samuel Barrett, Esq. 
R. Browne, Esq. 
Mr. Brown 

£dw. Brown, surgeon, Ncw- 
port-Paenel 

Bell, Stamford-hill 

S. Burchill, Leeds 

Bindley, Stamp-offiee 

L. Buckeridge 

Buckley, Fenchurck-street 

Barnard, jun. Philpot-lane 

BarAll, Exeter 

Beifield, ditto 

Barnes 

4. Baruky jun. Deronfliire-sq. 
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4. Bremer 
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Berresford 
Bruce 
Barrett 
Miss Bemett, Laleham, Middlesex 
Mrs. Bloxam 

Buchannan, Connisbro* 



Rev. Mr. H. Bailey, Hanbury, Stif- 

fordshire 
Mr. Brisdiure, Bath 

J. Blackstone 

Bullock 

Barnet 

Barwick 

Barrett 

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Bew, bookseller. Paternoster* 
row, 100 copiet 



Mr. Chapfnan,Printer,NeYil*t-€Ourt 

Caulfield, 3 copies 
J. Caley, Esq. Gray*s Inn 
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Coilinson, Holbom 

Chapman, Tokenhouse-ytrd 

A. Caley, Trinity College, 
Cambridge 

Cookson 

Catherwood 

S. Crane, bookseller, Liverpool, 
10 copies 
Miss Christopher, Connisbro* 
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Coape, Throgmorton-ffanet 

Samuel Coats, Haekney Road 

Crocket • 

A. F. Champoney, Esq. 



Major Duff, sCth regiment 

W. T. Dowse, Esq. Castle-street, 

Southwaik 
Mr. Dyer, bookseller, Exeter, %$ 
copies 
G. Davidson, Cl^lse« 



XXll 



SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. 



Mr. G. E. Dale 

Denton, Gray's Inn 

Donwell, Litchfield 

Diott, Exeter 

Dodd 

Durant 
Mons. D*Andr^, Member of the 

National Convention> Paris 
Mr. Dmfwftt 

Dickson, bookseller, Edin- 
burghy 50 copies 



Rev. Mr. Evans 

Mr. Evitt, Culknn-ftreet 

J. Edward, St. Catherine-street 
Elcock, Chertscy, Swry 
John Elvy, jun. Maidstone, 
Kent 



Captain ^Villiam Fenwick, Tweed- 
mouth 
Mr. Finnegan 

Filtham, Honiton 

W. Foy, North:ftreet 

Follett 

Francis, No. 143, Dniry-lane 

Femral Maa> Chatham 
Miss Farren 



Thomas Green, Esq. Harbom 
Mr. Green, Mufenm, Litch/ield 

Grave, Catherine-ftreet 

Green, Lambeth-Hill 

Grimshaw> Custom-house, Do- 
ver 

Gibson, St. Mary Axe 

Gray, Gray's- Inn-kme 

Ground, Whitlesy, Gloster- 
shire 

Glazesi Charterhoufe- square 
Rev. T. Gittnfield, B^th 

H 

Dr. HodsoB, Hatt<m-garden 
Mr. Hodson, Priater, Bell-yard 

Hazard, bookseller^ ^ath, ia 
copies 
Mr. B. Hanson, jun. 

William Haigb> Frenchgate, 
DxincastO: 



Mr. Joseph Cowley, Holcut 
Herring 
Harris 

F. S. Hollingworth, Esq. New- 
port -Pagnel 
Halfenden, Maidstone 
H. B. Harris, Esq. Plymouth 
Miss HaiTold, Exeter 
Mra^UodsuA 



Mr. Ince, Carnaby -market 

Dr. James 

Mr. Jones, bookseller, Lymingtou 

Jones, Cheapside 

Jones, Llanath, Monmouth- 
shire 

Wildy Jackson, Dowgatc-wharf 

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Mrs. Kidney, London-street 

Miss Kidney 

Patrick Kcnnard, Esq. Exeter 

Mr. Jos. Kmdall, ditto 

William Kendall, ditto 
Kenmacker, Apothecaries Hall 
B. Kemp, Farnsfield, Netting- 

ham 
A. KellocK 



John Lowes, Esq. Ridley-hall 
Mr. Peter Le Souef, Old Broad- 
ftrcet 

John Lloyd 
Dr. B. Lvon, Bartlett's Buildings 
Mr. Lindley, Organist, Pentonville 
J. B. Lucadou, Esq. Devonihire- 

square 
Mr. Lloyd, Plymoutji-dock 

Lampitt 
Rev. Mr.R. Lane, Chertsey, Surry 
Mr. Lambe 

Lowe 

Lamburn 

M 

K. Mason, Esq. Charlotte-strec 
Captain Meekins, Penryn 
Rev. Mr. Marshall, Windsor 
Miss Mead 



SUBSCRIBERS NAMES* 



xkm 



Mr. M*Kenzie, D\iblin 

R.Marshall, Lynn 

£. Matthews, Chippmg Norton 

Moore, printer, Orniy-lane 

Monk, Orpington, Kent 

Monis, Carmarthea 

C Martin 

Morrice, i copies 

Miles, Greenwich 

Marshall 

Mathews 

Marriott 

Meane 

Munton 
Mrs. Mead 

Mason 
Mr. Macke 

J. Morris 

N 

>Mr. Jos. Nell, Broacl-ftreetBuildings 
Nash, Camberwell 



Daniel Orde, Esq. Longiidge 



H. W. Ponreroy, Esq, 
Mrs. Petty 
Miss PIncnbeck 

Piggot, Petersham 
Mrs. Powell 

Rev. Mr. Parsley, A. M. T. C. D. 
Mr. Perkins 

Master Praid, Tyningham, Bucks 
Mr. R. Pope, jun. M^aidstone 

Powell, Ruflcll-ftrect, Covent- 
garden 

Pasley, Dublin 

Paddon, Leather-lane 

R.Pitt. 

G. Powell 

J. Parsons, bookseller. Pater- 
noster Row, loo copies 
Dr. A. L. Poynter 
Messrs. T. Payne and son, book- 
sellers. Mews-gate, too co- 
pies 



Mrs. Rudd, Durham 
George Riley, Esq. Gray*s Inn 
Thomas Rawlinson, Esq. Lancafter 
Henry Kosser, E«q. Kirby-sti-eet 
Mr. J. Rowe, Gent. Lancaster 



Henry Rosser, Esq, Uxbridge, So« 

raersetshire. 
William Rosser» Esq. Somer*t 

Town 
Mr. J. Roughsedgc, King's College, 

Aberdeen 
Richard Reece 
J. Rivett, Windham 
Charles Rochester, North Charl- 

ton 
Rush, Stratford-street 
James Richardson, Bell-court 
S. Rousseau 
Robfon ,book8eIler,Bond- street^ 

loo copies > 

Messrs. Robinsons, booksellers, Pa* 

ter-noster Row, loo copies 

S 

Rer. Mr. Percival Stockdale, May's 

Buildines 
Mr. Shipman, Pitt-street 

Charles Spillcr 
Mr. Stuart, Paternoster-row, 3 co- 
pies 
S. Stephens 

A. Smith, New Ormond-street 
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cross 
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shire 
H. D. Syroonds, bookseller. 

Paternoster- row, 100 copies 
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J. Shergold, Esq. Connisbro' 
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street 
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Smithers, coal-merchant 
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Bucks 
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Bucks 
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William Swift, jun. Islington 
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Sharp 



XXIV 



SUBSCRIBERS NAM£S« 



Mr. Sinunont 

Swift 

T 
Mr. Todd, Tamworth 
John Townsendy Esq. Chatham 
John Tyrwitt, Esq. Portland-street 
Mr. Timan, Broad-street 

Tull, Navy-office 

Townsend 
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house, Devon 
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W 

Rev. H. White^ Litchfield 
Mis« White 

George Wright, Esq. John -street, 
Tottenham CoiutRoad, 4 co- 
pies 
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Williams, Steward*s office, 
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Mr. Wintcrbottom 

Wheeler, Bloomsbury-tquare 
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Surry, 6 copies 
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ford 
Warner 

Wakeman, Upton Severn 
Thomas Whitchom, Woodford, 
Wilts 

Mrs. Worgman 

Mr. Wymore, Reepham 
Worley, Boston 
Philip Haddle Ward, GrtU 
Linfbrd, Bucks 

Mrs. Westwood 

Mr. Wing, Little Britain 

Y 

Mr. Adam Young 

Joseph Yorke, Esq. Ulvertton 



■> 




P R I N G. 



BOOK THE FIRST. 



Now teeming buds and chearfal greens appear. 

And western gales uzilodt the Uxy year» PurDBifp 

I^OME, gentle Spring I ethereal Mildness ! comei 
A^d from the bosom of yon dropping cloud. 
While mnsic wakes around, veiFd in a shower 
0( ihadowing roses, on our plains descend* 



SPRING. 



•fiif 



O Hartford ! fitted or to shine in courts 5 

With unaffected grace, or walk the plain 
With innocence and meditation join'd 
In soft assemblage, listen to my song, 
Which tliy own Season paints ; when Nature all 
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee. 10 

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, 15 
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost. 
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky. 

As yet the trembling year is unconfirmed. 
And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze ; 
Chills tlie pale morn, and bids his driving sleets 20 
Deform the' day delightless ; so that scarce 
The bittern knows his time, with bill ungulpht 
To Ihake 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. 25 

At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun, 
And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more 
Th'expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold ; 
But, full of life and vivifying soul. 
Lifts the light clouds sublime; and spreads them thin, 3a . 
Fleecy and white, o'er all-svirrounding heaven. 



SPRING. 



Forth fly the tepid airs ; and unconfin'd, 
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays. 
Joyous, th' impatient husbandman perceives 
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers 35 

Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us'd plough 
Lies in the furrow, loosened from the frost ; 
There, unreftising, to the hamess'd yoke 
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil, 
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark. 40 

Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share 
The master leans, removes th' obstructing clay. 
Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe. 

White thro' the neighboring fields the sower stalks, 
With measured step ; and liberal throws the grain 45 
Into the faithful bosom of the ground : 
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene. 

Be gracious, Heaven ! for now laborious man 
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes ! blow ; 
Ye softening dews! ye tender showers! descend; 50 
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 55 

To wide-imperial Rome, in the full height 
Of elegance and taste, by Greece refin'd. 

B 2i 



SPRING. 



In antient times, the sacred plough employkl 
The kings, and aweful fathers of mankind . 
And some, with whom compar'd yom* insect tribes 60 
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. 6^ 

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 thro' his azure turbulent domain, 70 

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. 
Exuberant, Nature's better bleffings pour 
O'er every land ; the naked nations cloathe ; 75 

And be th' exhaustless granary of a world. 

Nor only thro' the lenient air, this change 
Delicious breathes ; the penetrative sun. 
His force deep-darting to the dark retreat 
Of vegetation, sets the steaming Power 80 

At large, to wander o'er the vernant earth. 
In various hues ; but chiefly thee, gay Green ! 
Thou smiling Nature's universal robe ! 



SPRING. 



United light and shade ! where the sight dwells 
With growing strength, and ever new delight. 85 

FnoM 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 juicy groves 
Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, 90 

Till the whole leafy forest stands displayed. 
In full luxuriance to the sighing gales ; 
Where the deer rustle thro' the twining brake. 
And the birds sing conceal'd. At once, arrayed 
In all the colours of the flushing year, 95 

By Nature's swift and secret-working hand. 
The garden glows, and fills the liberal air 
With lavish fragrance ; while the promised firuit 
Lies yet a little embryo, unpcrceiv'd. 
Within its crimson folds. Now from the town 100 
Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps. 
Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, 
Wherefreshness breathes; anddashthetremblingdrops 
From the bent bush, as thro' the verdant maze 
Of sweet-briar hedges I pursue my walk ; X05 

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 fhower 
Of mingled blolToms ; where the raptur'd eye no 



SPRING. 



Hurries from joy to joy, and, hid beneath 
The fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies. 

If, brulh'd from Russian wilds, a cutting gale 
Rise not, and scatter from his hxmiid wings 
The clammy mildew ; or, dry-blowing, breathe 1 15 
Untimely frost ; before whofe baleful blast 
The full-blown Spring thro' all her foliage shrinks^ 
Joyless and dead, a wide-dejected waste* 
For ofl, engendered by the hazy North, 
Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp i» 

Keen in the poison*d bree^ ; and wasteful eat. 
Thro' buds and bark, into the blacken'd core. 
Their eager way. A feeble race ! yet oh 
The sacred sons of vengeance ; on whose courfe 
Corrosive famine waits, and kills the year. i«5 

To check this plague, the skilful farmer chafF 
And blazing straw before his orchard bums ; 
Till, all involv'd in smoke, the lateht foe 
From every cranny suffocated falls : 
Or scatters o'er the blooms the pungent dust 130 
Of pepper, fatal to the frosty tribe : 
Or, when th' envenom'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. 135 

Be patient, swains ; these cruel seeming winds 
Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep repressed 



SPRING. 



Thosedeepeningclouds on clouds, surcharg'd with rain. 

That o'er the vast Atlantic hither borne. 

In endless train, would quench the summer-blaze, 140 

And, chearless, drown the crude unripened year, 

- The North-east spends his rage ; he now Ihut up 

Within his iron cave, th' efiusive South 

Warms the wide air ; and o'er the void of heaven 

Breathesthebigcloudswithvemalshowersdistent. 145 

At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise. 

Scarce staining ether ; but by swift degrees, /f?^?^ 

In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour sails y i:^U 

Along the loaded sky, and mingling deep, ^^C^^i^ 

Sits on th' horizon round a settled gloom; 150 

Not such as wintry-storms on mortals shed. 

Oppressing life ; but lovely, gentle, kind. 

And full of every hope and every joy. 

The wilh of Nature. Gradual sinks the breeze 

Into a perfect calm ; that not a breath 155 

Is heard to quiver through the closing woods. 

Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves 

Of aspin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diflFiis'd 

In glassy breadth, seem thro' delusive lapse 

Forgetful of their course. 'Tis silence all, 160 

And pleadng 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, 



SPRING. 



To throw the ludd moisture trickling off; 165 

And wait th* approaching sign to strike at once. 

Into the general choir. Ev*n mountains, vales. 

And forests seem, impatient, to demand 

The promis*d sweetness. Man superior walks 

Amid the glad creation, musing praise, 170 

And looking lively gratitude. At last. 

The clouds coniign their treasures to the fields ; 

And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool 

Prelusive drops, let all their moifhire flow 

In large effusion, o*er the freshened world. 175 

The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard. 
By such as wander thro* the foreft walks. 
Beneath th* umbrageous multitude of leaves. 
But who can hold the shade, while Heaven descends 
In universal bounty, shedding herbs, 180 

And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap ? 
Swift fancy fir*d anticipates their growth ; 
And, while the milky nutriment distils. 
Beholds the kindling country colour round. 

Thus all day long the full-distended clouds 185 
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 
Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam. 190 

The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes 



SPRING. 



Th* illumin'd mountain, thro* the forest streams. 

Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist. 

Far smoaking o'er th* interminable plain. 

In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. 195 

Moist, bright, and green, the landskip laughs around j 
Full swell the woods ; their every music wakes, 
Mix'd in wild concert with the warbling brooks 
Increased, the distant bleatings of the hills, 
And hollow lows responsive from the vales, 209 

Whence blending all the sweetenM zephyr springs. 
Mean time refracted from yon eastern cloud. 
Bestriding earth, the grand etherial bow 
Shoots up immense ; and every hue unfolds, 
In fair proportion, running from the red, 205 

To where the violet fades into the sky. 

Here, awful Newton ! the dissolving clouds 
Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery prism j 
And to the sagc-instructed eye unfold 
The various twine of light, by thee disclosed 210 

From the white mingling maze. Not so the boy ; 
He wondering views the bright enchantment bend. 
Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs 
To catch the falling glory ; but amazM 
Beholds th' amusive arch before him fly, 215 

Then vanish quite away. Still night succeeds ; 
A softened shade, and saturated earth 
Awaits the morning-beam ; to give to light 

c 



10 S P k 1 N G. 

Rals'd thro' ten thousand different plastic tubes. 

The balmy treasures of the former day. 220 

Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild, 
0*er all the deep green earth, beyond the power 
Of botanist to number up their tribes : 
Whether he steals along the lonely dale. 
In silent search ; or thro* the forest, rank 225 

With what the dull incurious weeds account. 
Bursts his blind way ; or climbs the mountain-rock, 
FirM by the nodding verdure of its brow. 
With such a liberal hand has nature flung 
Their seeds abroad ; blown them about in winds, 230 
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, 235 
While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told 
A length of golden years ; unfleshM 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, 24a 

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 j 
And up they rpse as vigorous as the sun, 245 



SPRING. If 



Or to the culture of the willing glebe. 

Or to the cheerful tendance of the flock* 

Meantime the song went round } and dance and sport. 

Wisdom and friendly talk, successive, stole 

Their hours away. While in the rosy vale 250 

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. 

Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed. 
Was known among those happy sons of Heaven ; 255 
For reason and benevolence were law. 
Harmonious Nature too lookM 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 260 
DropM 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 joined his sullen joy ; 265 

For music held the whole in perfect peace ; 
Soft sigh*d the flute ; the tender voice was heard. 
Warbling the varied heart j the woodlands round 
Apply'd their quire ; and winds and waters flow'd 
In consonance. Such were those prime of days. 270 

But now those white unblemished manners, whence 
The fabling poets took their golden age, 

c 2 



13 SPRING. 



Are found no more amid these iron times, 

These dregs of life ! Now the distemper^ mind 

Has lost that concord of harmonious powers, 2ys 

Which forms the soul of happiness ; and all 

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, 280 

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, 285 

Weak and unmanly, loosens every power. 

Ev*N love itself is bitterness of soul, 
A pensive anguish pining at the heart ; 
Or, sunk to sordid interest, feels no more 
That noble wish, that never doy*d desire, 290 

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. 295 

- 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 



SPRING. 13 



The partial thought, a listless unconcern, 300 

Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good ; 

Then dark disgust, and hatred, winding wiles. 

Coward deceit, and ruffian violence : 

At last, extinct ^ch social feeling, fell 

And joyless inhumanity pervades 305 

And petrifies the heart* Nature disturb'd 

Is deem'd vindictive, to have changed 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, 310 

With universal burst, into the gulph ; 
And o'er the high-pird hills of fractur*d earth 
Wide dash'd the waves, in undulation vast ^ 
Till, from the center to the streaming clouds, 
A shoreless ocean tumbled round the globe. 315 

The Seasons since have, with severer sway. 
Oppressed a broken world : The Winter keen 
Shook forth his waste of snows ; and Summer shot 
His pestilential heats. Great Spring, before. 
Greened all the year ; and fruits and blossoms blush'd. 
In social sweetness on the self-same bough. 
Pure was the temp'rate air ; an even calm 
Perpetual reign'd, save what the zephyrs bland 
Breath'd o'er the blue expanse ; for then nor storms 
Were taught to blow, nor hurricanes to rage j ^^s 
Sound slept the waters.: No sulphureous glooms 



14 SPRING. 

» I ■ ■■ II III ■ 

Sweird in the sky, and sent the lightning forth ; 
While sickly damps, and cold autumnal fogs. 
Hung not, relaxing, on the springs of life. 
But now, of turbid elements the sport, 330 

From clear to cloudy tost, from hot to cold. 
And dry to moist, with inward-eating change. 
Our drooping days are dwindled down to nought. 
Their period finishM ere 'tis well begun. 

And yet the wholesome herb neglected dies; 335 
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, ensanguined Man 
Is now become the lion of the plain, 340 

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 tyger hangs. 
E'er plow'd for him. They too are tempered high, 345 
With hunger stung, and wild necessity j 
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 alon&to weep ; while from her lap 350 
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 ! 



SPRING. 15 



Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on Heaven, 

E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, 355 

And dip his tongue in gore ? The beast of prey, 

Blood-stain'd, deserves to bleed : But you, ye flocks. 

What have you done j ye peaceful people, what. 

To merit death ? you, who have given us milk 

In luscious streams ? and lent us your own coat 360 

Against the winter's cold. And the plain ox. 

That harmless, honest, guileless animal. 

In what has he offended ? he, whose toil. 

Patient and ever ready, clothes the land 

With all the pomp of harvest ; shall he bked, 365 

And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands 

Ev'n 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, 370 

In this late age, adventurous, to have touch'd 

Light on the mmibers of the Samian sage. 

High Heaven forbids the bold presumptuous strain, 

Whose wisest will has fix'd us in a state 

That must not yet to pure perfection rise. 375 

Now when the first foul torrent of the brooks, 
Sweird with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away j 
And, whitenii^, down thdr mossy-tinctur'd stream 
Descends the billowy foam : Now is the time. 
While yet the dark>browii water aids the guile, 380 



16 SPRING. 



To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly. 

The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring. 

Snatched from the hoary steed the floating line. 

And all thy slender watry stores prepare. 

But let not on thy hook the tortur'd worm, 385 

Convulsive, twist in agonizing folds ; 

Which, by rapacious hunger swallowM deep. 

Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breast 

Of the weak helpless uncomplaining wretch. 

Harsh pain and horror to the tender hand. 390 

When with his lively ray the potent sun 
Has pierc'd the streams, and rous'd the finny race. 
Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair ; 
Chief should the western breezes curling play. 
And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds, 395 
High to their fount, this day, amid their hills. 
And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks ; 
The next, pursue their rocky-channel'd maze, 
Down to the river, in whose ample wave 
Their little naiads love to sport at large. 4001 

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 hollowed bank 
Reverted plays in undulating flow. 
There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly ; 405 

And as you lead it round in artful curve. 
With eye attentive mark the springing game. 



SPRING* 17 



Strait as above the surface of the flood 

They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger leap> 

Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook : 410 

Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank. 

And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some. 

With various hand proportion^ to their force. 

If yet too young, and easily deceiv*d, 
A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod j 415 
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 420 
Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook. 
Behoves you then to ply your finest art. 
Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly ; 
iWid oft attempts to seize it, but as oft 
Th^ dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. 425 

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 farthest ooze, the sheltering weed, 430 
The cavem'd bank, his old secure abode j 
And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool. 
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand. 
That feels him still, yet to his furious course 



IS SPRING. 



Gives way, you, now retiring, following now 435 

Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage : 

Till floating broad upon his breathless side. 

And to his £ate abandoned, to the shore 

You gaily drag your unresisting prize. 439 

Thus pass the temperate hours : but when the sun 
Shakes from his noon-day throne the scattering clouds. 
Even shooting listless languor thro' the deeps ; 
Then seek the bank where flowering elders croud, 
Where scatterM wild the lily of the vale 
Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang 445 
The dewy head, where purple violets lurk. 
With all the lowly children of the shade : 
Or lie reclin'd beneath yon spreading ash, 
Hung o'er the steep ; whence, borne on liquid wing. 
The sounding culver shoots ; or where the hawk, 450 
High, in the beetling cliff*, his airy builds. • 

There let the classic page thy fancy lead 
Thro' rural scenes ; such as the Mantuan swain 
Paints in the matchless harmony of song. 
Or catch thyself the landskip, gliding swift 455 

Athwart imagination's vivid eye : 
Or by the vocal woods and waters luUM, 
And lost in lonely musing, in the dream, 
Confus'd, of careless solitude, where mix 
Ten thousand wandering images of things, 460 

Soothe every gust of passion into peace ; 



SPRING. i^ 



All bat 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 465 
Like Nature ? Can imagination boast. 
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 470 

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, 475 

That inexhaustive flow continual round ? 

Yet, tho' successless, will the toil delight. 
Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts 
Have felt the raptures of refining love ; 
And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song ! 480 
Formed by the Graces, loveliness itself! 
Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, 
Thos^e looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul. 
Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix*d. 
Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart : 485 

Oh come ! and while the rosy-footed May 
Steals blushing on, together let us tread 
The moming-de^s, and gather in their prime 

D 2 



20 SPRING. 



Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair. 
And thy lov*d bosom that improves their sweets. 490 

See, where the winding vale its lavish stores, 
Irriguous, spreads. See, how the lily drinks 
The latent rill; scarce oozing thro* the grass. 
Of growth luxuriant ; or the humid bank. 
In fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, 495 

Where the breeze blows from yon extended field 
Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast 
A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence 
Breathes thro' the sense, and takes the ravish'd soul. 
Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot, 500 

Full of fresh verdure, and unnumbered 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, 505 

In swarming millions, tend : Around, athwart. 
Thro* the soft air, the busy nations fly 5 
Cling to the bud, and with inserted lube. 
Suck its pure essence^ its ethereal soul ; 
And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare 510 

The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows. 
And yellow load them with the luscious spoil. 

At length the finish'd garden to the view 
Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. 
Suatch'd thro* the verdaat maze, the hurried eye $15 



SPRING. 2t 



Distracted wanders ; now the bowery walk 
Of covert close, where scarce a speck of day 
Falls on the lengthened gloom, protracted sweeps : 
Now meets the bending sky ; the river now 
Dimpling along, the breezy-ruffled lake, 520 

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 mingFed wilderness of flowers, 525 

Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace ; 
Throws out the snow-drop, and the crocus firjt j 
The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue. 
And polyanthus of unnumbered dyes ; 
The yellow wall-flower, stain'd with iron brown ; 536 
And lavish stock that scents the garden round : 
From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed, 
Anemonies ; auriculas, enriched 
With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves ; 
And full ranunculas, of glowing red* 535 

Then comes the tulip^race, where Beauty plays 
Her idle freaks ; from family diffused 
To family, as flies the father-dust. 
The varied coloias run ; and while they break 
On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist marks, 540 
With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. 
No gradual bloom is wanting ; from the bud. 
First-born of Springy to Summer's musky tribes : 



tt SPRING. 



Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, 

Low-bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils, 545 

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, 550 

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 The* I bend the knee ; to Thee my thoughts, SSS 
Continual, climb ; who, with a master-hand. 
Hast the great whole into perfection touchM. 
By Thee the various vegetative tribes. 
Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves. 
Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew : 560 

By Thee disposed 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 $6^ 

By wintry winds ; that now in fluent dance. 
And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads 
All this innumerous-colour'd scene of things. 

As rising from the vegetable world 
My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend, 570 

My panting Muse ! and hark, how loud the woods 



S P IL I N G. 13 



Invite you forth in all your gayest trim. 

Lend me your soi^, ye nightingales ! oh pour 

The mazy-running soul of melody 

Into my varied verfe ; while I deduce, 575 

From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings. 

The symphony of Spring ; and touch a theme 

Unknown to &me, the passion of the groves. 

When first the soul of love is fent abroad, 
Warm thro' the vital air, and on the heart 58^ 

Harmonious seizes ; the gay troops begin. 
In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing ; 
And try again the long-forgotten gtrain. 
At first faint- warbled. But no sooner grows 
The soft infusion prevalent, and wide, 585 

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 mom : 
£f e yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings 
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 590 
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 395 

And wood-lark, o^er the kind contending throng 
Superior heard, run t&ro' the sweetest length 
Of notes } when listening Philomela deigns 



24 SPRING. 



To let them joy, and purposes, in thought 
£late> to make her night excel their day. 600 

The black-bird 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 605 
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 thro* the whole. 610 

•Tis love creates their melody, and all 
This waste of music is the voice of love ; 
That ev'n to birds, and beasts, the tender arts 
Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind 
Try every winning way inventive love 615 

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 620 

Of the regardless charmer. Should she seem 
Softening the least approvance to bestow. 
Their colours burnish, and by hope inspired, 
They brisk advance ; then on a sudden struck. 
Retire disordered ; then again approach j 625 



SPRING. 25 



In fond rotation spread the spotted wing. 
And shiver every feather with desire. 

Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods 
They haste away, all as their fancy leads. 
Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts ; 630 

That Nature's great command may be obeyed. 
Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive 
Indulged in vain. Some to the holly- hedge 
Nestling repair^ and to the thicket some ; 
Some to the rude protection of the thorn 635 

Commit their feeble oflFspring : 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. 640 
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 645 

Of hazel, pendant o'er the plaintive stream. 
They frame the first foundation of their domes j 
Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid. 
And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought 
But restless hurry thro' the busy air, 650 

Beat by unnumber'd wings. The swallow sweeps 
The slimy pool, to build his hanging house 



36 SPRING. 



Intent. And often, from the careless back 
Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills 
Pluck hair and wool j and oft, when unobservM, 6^$ 
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, 660 

Tho' the whole loosened Spring around her Wows; 
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 66^ 

To pick the scanty meal. Th* appointed time 
With pious toil fulfilled, the callow young, 
Warm*d and expanded into perfect life. 
Their brittle bondage break; and come to light, 
A helpless family, demanding food 670 

With constant clamour : O what passions then. 
What melting sentiments of kindly care. 
On the new parents seize ! away they fly 
Affectionate, and undesiring bear 
The most delicious morsel to their young ; 675 

Which equally distributed, again 
The search begins. Even so a gentle pair. 
By fortune sunk, but formM of generous mould. 
And charmed with cares beyond the vulgar breast ; 



SPRING. 27 



In some lone cott amid the distant woods, 680 

Sustained alone by providential Heaven j 
Oft as they weeping eye their infant train. 
Check their own appetites, and give them all. 

Nor toil alone they scorn : Exahing love. 
By the great Father of the Spring inspir'd, 685^ 
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 690 

Th* unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head 
Of wandering swain, the white-wingM 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, 
0*er the rough moss, and o*er the trackless waste 696 
The 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 700 

Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage 
From liberty confined, and boundless air. 
Dull are the pretty slaves, their plumage dull. 
Ragged, and all its brightening lustre lost ; 
Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes, 705 

Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech* 

£2 



a8 SPRING. 



Oh theiii 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. 710 

But let not chief the nightingale lament 
Her ruin'd care, too delicately fram'd 
To brook the harsh confinement of the cage. 
Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, 
Th' astonished mother finds a vacant nest, 715 

By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns 
Robb'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 abandoned to despair, she sings 720 

Her sorrows thro' 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. 725 

But now the feathered 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, 730 

Unlavish Wisdom never woi;ks in vain. 
'Tis on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild. 
When nought but balm is breathing thro' the woods. 



SPRING. s$ 



With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes 
Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad 735 

On Nature's common, far as they can see. 
Or wing, their range and pasture. O'er the bought 
Dancing about, still at the giddy verge 
Their resolution fails ; their pinions still. 
In loose libration stretch'd, to trust the void 740 

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 745 

Alighted, bolder up again they lead. 
Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight ; 
Till vanished every fear, and every power 
RouzM into life and action, light in air 
Th' acquitted parents see their soaring race, 750 

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 ; 755 

The royal eagle draws his vigorous young. 
Strong pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire ; 
Now fit to raise a kingdom of thdr own, 
He drives them from his fort, the towering seat. 
For ages, of his empire ; which, in peace, 760 






30 SPRING. 



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, 765 

In early Spring, his airy city builds. 
And ceaseless caws amusive ; there, well-pleas'd, 
I might the various polity survey 
Of the mix'd houshold kind. The careful hen 
Calls all her. chirping family around, 770 

Fed and defended by the fearless cock j 
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 775 

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-threatning, reddens ; while the peacock spreads 
His every-colour'd glory to the sun, 781 

And swims in radiant majesty along. 
O'er the whole homely scene, the cooing dove 
Flies thick in amorous chacc; and wanton rolls 
The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. 785 

While thus the gentle tenants of the shade 
Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world 



SPRING. 31 



Of brutes, below, rush furious into flame. 

And fierce desire. Thro' all his lusty veins 

The bull, deep-scorch'd, the raging passion feels. 790 

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 thro' the mazy wood 

Dejected wanders ; nor th' inticing bud 795 

Crops, tho' it presses on his careless sense. 

And oft, in jealous mad'ning fancy wrapt. 

He seeks the fight ; and, idly-butting feigns 

His rival gor'd in ev'ry knotty trunk. 

Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins : 800 

Their eyes flash fury j to the hoUow'd earth. 

Whence the sand flies, they mutter bloody deeds. 

And groaning deep, th' impetuous battle mix : 

While the fair heifer, balmy-breathing, near. 

Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed. 

With this hot impulse seized in every nerve, 806 

Nor hears the rein, nor heeds 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 ; 810 

O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies ; 

And, neighing, on the aerial summit takes 

Th' exciting gale j then, steep descending, cleaves 

The headlong torrents foaming down the hills. 



3s SPRING. 



Even where the madnesa of the stiaiten'd stream 815 

Turns 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, S20 

They flounce and tumble in unwieldly joy. 
Dire were the strain, and dissonant, to sing 
The cruel raptures of the savage kind : 
How by this flame their native wrath sublimed. 
They roam, amid the fury of their heart, 815 

The &r-resounding waste in fiercer bands. 
And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme 
I sing, enraptured, to the British Fair, 
Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow. 
Where sits the shepherd on the grassy turf, 830 

Inhaling, healthful, the descending sun. 
Around him feeds his many-bleating flock. 
Of various cadence ; and his sportive lambs. 
This way and that convolvM, in friskful glee. 
Their frolicks play. And now the sprightly race S^s 
Invites them forth j 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 antient barbarous times. 
When disunited Britain ever bled, 840 

Lost in eternal broil : ere yet she grew 



S P R I K G. 33 



To this deep-laid indissoluble state, 

Were Wealth and Commerce lift their golden heads ; 

And o'er our labours. Liberty and Law, 

Impartial, watch ; the wonder of a world ! 845 

What is this mighty Breath, ye sages, say. 
That, in a powerful language, felt not heard. 
Instructs the fowls of heaven ! and thro' their breast 
These arts of love diflfuses ? What, but God ? 
Inspiring God ! who boundless Spirit all, 850 

And unremitting Energy, pervades, 
Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. 
He ceaseless works alone ; and yet alone 
Seems not to work : With such perfection fram'd 
Is this complex stupendous scheme of things. 855 

But, tho' concealed, 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, earthy 
And air attest his bounty j which exalts 860 

The brute-creation to this finer thought. 
And annual melts their undesigning hearts 
Profusely thus in tenderness and joy. 

Still l^t my song a nobler note assume. 
And sing th* infusive force of Spring on Man ; 865 
When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie 
To raise his being, and serene his soul. 
Can he forbear to join the general smile 



34 



SPRING. 



Of Nature ? Can fierce passions vex his breast. 

While every gale is peace, and every grove 870 

Is melody ? Hence ! from the bounteous walks 

Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of earth. 

Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe j 

Or only lavish to yourselves ; away ! 

But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide thought, 

Of all his works. Creative Bounty burns 876 

With warmest beam ; and on your open front 

And liberal eye, sits, from his dark retreat 

Inviting modest want. Nor, till invoked. 

Can restless goodness wait ; your ac^ve search 88a 

Leaves no cold wintry corner unexplored ; 

Like silent-working Heaven, surprizing oft 

The lonely heart with unexpected good. 

For you, the roving spirit of the wind 
Blows Spring abroad; for you, the teeming clouds 885 
Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world j 
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 j and young-ey'd Health exalts 899 
The whole creation round. Contentment walks 
The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss 
Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kinga 
To purchase. Pure serenity apace 
Induces thought, and contemplation still. 895 



SPRING. ss 



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 ! 900 

These are the sacred feelings of thy heart. 
Thy heart informed by reason's purer ray, 
O Lyttelton, the friend ! thy passions thus 
And meditations vary, as at large. 
Courting the Muse, thro' Hagley Park thou strayest; 
The British Tempe ! There along the dale, 906 

With woods o'er-hung, 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 lengthened vista thro' the trees, 910 

You 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, and flocks, the birds, 915 
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 thro' the philosophic world ; 920 

Where in bright train continual wonders rise, 
Or to the curious or the pious eye. 

F 2 



36 S P R I N^ G. 



And oft, conducted by historic truth. 

You tread the long extent of backward time ; 

Planning, with warm benevolence of mind, 925 

And honest zeal unwarp'd by party-rage, 

Britannia's weal ; how from the venal gulph 

To raise her virtue, and her arts revive. 

Or, turning thence thy view, these graver thoughts 

The Muses charm : While, with sure taste refin'd, 930 

You draw th* inspiring breath of antient song ; 

Till nobly rises, emulous, thy own. 

Perhaps thy lov'd Lucinda shares thy walk. 
With soul to thine attunM. Then Nature all 
Wears to the lover's eye a look of love ; g^S 

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 j 940 

You, frequent-pausing, turn, and from her eyes. 
Where meekened sense, and amiable grace. 
And lively sweetness dwell, enraptur'd, drink 
That nameless spirit of ethereal joy. 
Unutterable happiness ! which love 945 

Alone, bestows, and on a favoured 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. 



SPRING. 37 



And verdant field, and darkening heath between ; 950 

And villages enbosom'd soft in trees. 

And spiry towns by surging columns mark'd 

Of household smoak, your eye excursive roams : 

Wide-stretching from the Hall, in whose kind haunt 

The hospitable Genius lingers still, 955 

To where the broken landskip, by degrees. 

Ascending, roughens into rigid hills ; 

0*er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds 

That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise. 

Flushed by the spirit of the genial year, 960 

Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom 
Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round ; 
Her lips blush deeper sweets ; she breathes of youth ; 
The shining moisture swells into her eyes. 
In brighter flow j her wishing bosom heaves, 965 

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 extabc power, and sick 
With sighing languishment. Ah then, ye fair ! 97^ 
Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts : 
Dare not th' infectious sigh i 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, 975 

Gain on your purposed will. Nor in the bower, 



38 SPRING. 



Where woodbinds 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, 980 

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, 985 

Still paints th* illusive form ; the kindling grace ; 
Th* inticing 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, 990 

Her syren voice, enchanting, draws him on 
To guileful shores, and meads of fatal joy. 

Even 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 996 

Her snaky crest : a quick-returning pang 
Shoots thro* the conscious heart ; where honour still. 
And great design, against th* oppressive load 
Of luxury, by fits, impatient heave. 1000 

But absent, what fantastic woes, arrous*d, 
Rage, in each thought, by restless musing fed. 
Chill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of life ! 



SPRING- 39 



Neglected fortune flies j and sliding swift. 

Prone into niin, fall his scorn'd affairs. 1005 

'Tis nought but gloom around : The darkened 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 loia 

Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought. 

Fills every sense> and pants in every vein. 

Books are but formal dullness, tedious friends ; 
And sad amid the social band he sits, \ 

Lonely, and unattentive. From his tongue 1015 

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 declined, 1020 

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 thro' the pensive dusk 1025 
Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation lost. 
Indulging all to love : Or on the bank . 
Thrown, amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze 
With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. 



40 SPRING. 



Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day, 1030 
Nor quits his deep retirement, till the Moon 
Peeps thro* the chambers of the fleecy East, 
Enlightened by degrees, and in her traiii 
Leads on the gentle hours ; then forth he walks. 
Beneath the trembling languish of her beam, 1035 
With soften'd soul, and wooes 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. tortured heart into the page, 1040 

Meant for the moving messenger of love ; 
Where rapture burns on rapture, every line 
With rising frenzy fir*d. But if on bed 
Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies. 1045 

All night he tosses, nor the balmy power 
In any posture finds j till the grey mom 
Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch. 
Exanimate by love : and then perhaps 
Exhausted Nature sinks a while to rest; 1050 

Still interrupted by distracted dreams. 
That o'er the sick imagination rise. 
And in black colours paint the mimic scene. 

Oft with th' enchantress of his soul he talks ; 
Sometimes in crouds distress'd; or if retired 1055 



SPRINa 



To fecret winding flowcr-enwoven bowers. 

Far from the dull impertinence of Man ; 

Just as he, credulous, his endlefs cares 

Begins to lose in Uind oblivious love. 

Snatched from her yielded hand, he knows not how. 

Thro* forests huge, and long untravel'd heaths 1061 

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 1065 

The farther 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. 1070 

These are the charming agonies of love. 
Whose misery delights. But thro* the l^eart 
Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 
'Tis then delightful mis^ no more ; 
But agony unmixM, incessant gall, 2075 

Corroding every thought, and blasting all 
Lovers 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 io8a 
Internal vision taints, and in a night 
Of livid gloom imagination wraps. 

G 




SPRING. 



Ah then ; instead of lovc-enlivcucd cheeks. 

Of sunny features, and of ardent eyes 

With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed^ iq8^ 

Suffus'd and glaring with untend^ fire ; 

A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek. 

Where the whole poisoix*d soul, malignant, sits. 

And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears 

Invented wild, ten thousand frantic yiewa 109a 

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, 1095 

Giving false peace a moment. Fancy pours. 

Afresh, her beauties on his busy thought. 

Her first endearments twining lound the soul. 

With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. 

Straight the fierce storm involves his mind anew, n oq 

Flames thro' the nerves, and boUs along the veins ; 

While anxious doubt distracta the tortur'd heart : 

For ev'n the sad assurance o£ his feara 

Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth. 

Whom love deludes into hi^ thoxny wilds, 1 105 

Thro' flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life 

Of fever^ japture, or of cruel care ; 

His brightest flames extinguished all, and all 

His brightest moments running down t,o waste^ 



SPRING. 43 

But happy they! the happiest of their kind ! mo 
Whom gentler itars unite, ind in one fate, 
Their hearts, their fortunes^ and their beings blend, 
*Tis not the coarser tie of huhian laws, 
Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind. 
That binds theit peafce, but harmony itself^ 1 1 15 

Attuning all their passions into love i 
Where friendship ftill-eicerls 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 1 1 a i 
Can answer lo^e, and render bliss secure. 

Let him, ungenerous, who, alone intent 
To bless himself, fi'om sordid parents buys 
The loathing virgin, in eternal care, 11 25 

Well-merited, consume his nights and dajrs ; 
Let bat*barous nations, whoto inhuman love 
Is wild desire> fierce as the suns they feel ; 
Let Eastern tyrants from the light of Heaven 
Seclude their bosom-^slaves, meanly possessed 1 130 
Of a mere, lifeless, violated form ; 
While those whom love cements in holy faith. 
And equal transport, fi:ce as Nature live. 
Disdaining fear. What is the world to them ? 
Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all ? 
Wh^ in each other clasp whatever fair 



SPRING. 



High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish; 

Something than beauty dearer, should they look 

Or on the mind, or mind-illumin*d fece ; 

Truth, goodness, honour, harmony, and love, 1 14a.- 

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, shews some new charm^ ^^4$ 

The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. 

The infant reason grows apace, and calls 

For the kind hand of an assiduous care. 

Delightful talk ! to rear the tender thought. 
To teach the young idea how to shoot, 1 150 

To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind^ 
To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix 
The generous purpofe in the glowing breast. 
Oh, sj^eak the joy ! ye, whom the sudden tear 
Surprizes often, while you look around^ i i5j 

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 joys of virtuous love ; 
And thus their^monjents fly. The Seasons thus^ 



SPRING. 



45 



As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll. 

Still find them happy; and consenting Spring 1165 

Sheds her own rosy garland on tlieir heads : 

Till evening comes at last, serene and mild ; 

When after the long vernal day of life. 

Enamour d more, as more remembrance sw ells 

With many a proof of recollected love, ^^7** 

Together down they sink in social sleep ; 

Together freed, their gentle spirits fly 

To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign. 




SUMMER. 



BOOK THE SECOND. 




SUMMER. 



book: the second. 



Now fragrant flowVs diapky their sweetest bloom. 
While gentle Zephyrg breathe a rich perfume, Ro%/e. 

-T ROM brightening fields of ether fair disclosM, 
Child of the surtj refulgent Summer comes^ 
In pride of youth, and felt thro' Nature's depth. 
He comes attended by the sultry hours^ 

H 



so SUMMER. 



And ever-fanning breezes, on his way ; 5 

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 ^hade. 
Where scarce a sun-beam wanders thro* the gloom ; 10 
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, 15 

By mortal seldom found : may Fancy dare. 
From thy fixM 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. 2q 

And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend. 
In whom the human graces all unite : 
Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart j 
Genius, and wisdom ; the gay social sense. 
By decency chastised ; goodness and wit, 25 

In seldom-meeting harmony combined; 
Unblemished 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, 30 

And teach me to deserve thy just applause. 



SUMMER. 51 



With what an aweful world-revolving power 
Were first the unwieldy planets launched along 
Th* illimitable void ! Thus to remain. 
Amid the flux of many thousand years, 35 

That oft has swept the toiling race of Men, 
And all their laboured monuments away. 
Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course ; 
To the kind tempered change of night and day. 
And of the seasons ever stealing round, 40 

Minutely faithful : such Th* all-perfect Hand! 
That pois*d^ impels, and rules the steady whole. 

When now no more th' alternate Twins are fir'd. 
And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze. 
Short is the doubtful, empire of the night ; 45 

And soon observant of approaching day. 
The meek-ey'd Morn appears, mother of dews. 
At first faint-gleaming in the dappled East : 
Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow ; 
And, from^before the lustre of her face, 50 

White break the clouds away. With quickened step. 
Brown Night retires : young Day pours in 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. S5 
Blue, thro' the dusk, the smoaking currents shine ; 
And from the bladed field the fearful hare 
Limps, awkward : while along the forest glade 

H 2 



52 SUMMER. 



The wild deer trip, and often turning gaze 

At early passenger. Music awakes 60 

The native voice of undissembled joy ; 

And thick around the woodland hymns arise. 

RousM by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves 

His mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells j 

And from the crouded fold, in order, drives 6j 

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 ? Jo 

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* enlightened soul ! 
Or else to feverish vanity alive, 75 

Wildered, and tossing thro* distempered 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 wildy-devious morning-walk ? 8s 

But yonder comes the powerful King of Day, 
Rejoicing in the East. The lessening cloud. 
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
IllumM with fluid gold, his near approach 
Betoken glad. Lo ! now^ apparent all, 85 



SUMMER. 53 



Aslant the dew-bright earth, and coloured air. 

He looks in boundless majesty abroad ; 

And sheds the shining day, that bumish'd plays 

On rocks, and hills, and tow'rs, and wand'ring streams. 

High-gleaming from afar. Prime chearer light ! 90 

Of all material beings first, and best ! 

Efflux divine ! Nature's resplendent robe! 

Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt 

In unessential gloom ; and thou, O Sun ! 

Soul of surrounding worlds ! in whom best seen 95 

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 100 

Of thirty years ; to Mercury, whose disk 
Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye. 
Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze. 

Informer pf the planetary train ! 
Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous orbs 
Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead ; 106 

And not, as now, the green abodes of life. 
How many forms of being wait on thee. 
Inhaling spirit I from th' unfettered mind. 
By thee sublim'd, down to the daily race, no 

The mixing myriads of thy setting beam* 



54 SUMMER. 



The vegetable world is also thine, 
Parent of Seasons ! who the pomp precede 
That waits thy throne ; as thro' thy vast domain. 
Annual, along the bright ecliptic road, 1 1.5 

In world-rejoicing state, it moves sublime. 
Mean-time th' expecting nations, circled gay. 
With all the various tribes of foodful earth. 
Implore thy bounty, or send grateful up 
A common hymn : while, round thy beaming car, 1 20 
High-seen, the Seasons lead, in sprightly dance 
Harmonious knit, the rosy-finger*d Hours; 
The Zephyrs floating loose j the timely Rains ; 
Of bloom ethereal the light-footed Dews j 
And soften'd into joy the surly Storms. 125 

These, in successive turn, with lavish hand. 
Shower every beauty, every fragance shower^^ 
Herbs, flow'rs, and fruits ; till, kindling at thy touch. 
From land to land is flushed the vernal year. 

Nor to the surface of enlivened earth, 13a 

Graceful with hills and dales, and leafy woods. 
Her liberal tresses, is thy force confined : 
But, to the bowel'd cavern darting deep. 
The mineral kinds confess thy mighty power. 
Effulgent, hence the veiny marble shines ; 135 

Hence Labour draws his tools ; hence burnished War 
Gleams on the day ; the nobler works of Peace 



SUMMER. 55 



Hence bless mankind ; and generous Commerce binds 
The round of nations in a golden chain. 

Th* unfruitful rock itself, impregnM by thee, 140 
In dark retirement forms the lucid stone. 
The Kvely Diamond drinks thy purest rays. 
Collected light, compact ; that, polishM bright. 
And all its native lustre let abroad. 
Dares, as it sparkles on the fair-one's breast, 145 

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, 150 

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 combined. 
Thick thro' the whitening Opal play thy beams j 156 
Or, flying several from its surface, form ' 
A trembling variance of revolving hues. 
As the site varies in the gazer's hand. 

The very dead creation, from thy touch, 160 

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 blackened flood. 



SUMMER- 



Drooping all night ; and, when he warm returns, 
Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray. 

Home, from his morning task, the swairl retreats ; 
His flock before him stepping to the fold : 221 

While the fuU-udder'd mother lows around 
The chearful cottage, then expecting food. 
The food of innocence, and health ! The daw. 
The rook and magpie, to the grey*grown oaks 225 
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 j 23a 
And, in a corner of the buzzing shade. 
The house-dog, with 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, wakened by the wasp, 235 
They starting snap. Nor shall the Muse disdain 
To let the little noisy summer-race 
' Live in her lay, and flutter thro' her song : 
Not mean tho' simple ; to the sun ally'd. 
From him they draw their animating fire. 240 

v. Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young 
Come wingM abroad j by the light air upborn, 
Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink, 



SUMMER. 59 



And secret corner, where they slept away 
The wintry storms ; or rising from their tombs, 245 
To higher life ; by myriads, forth at once» 
Swarming they pour ; of all the vary'd hues 
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose. 

Ten thousand forms ! ten thousand different tribes ! 
People the blaze. To sunny waters some ^50 

By fatal instinct fly ; where on the pool 
They, sportive, wheel ; or, sailing down the stream. 
Are snatched immediate by the quick-ey'd trout. 
Or darting salmon. Thro' the green- wood glade 
Some love to stray; there lodg'd, amus'd and fed, 255 
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 undisclosed, 260 
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, 265 
"With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire. 

But chief to heedless flies the window proves 
A constant death ; where, gloomily retired. 
The villain spider lives, cunning, and fiercej 
Mixture abhor'd ! Amid a mangled heap 270 

12 



6o SUMMER. 



Of carcasses, in eager watch he sits. 

Overlooking 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, 275 

With rapid glide, along the leaning line •, 

And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs. 

Strikes backward grimly pleased : the fluttering wing. 

And shriller sound declare extreme distress. 

And ask the helping hospitable hand. 280 

Resounds the living surface of the ground : 
Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum, 
To him who muses thro' the woods at noon j 
Or drowsy shepherd, as he lies reclin'd. 
With half-shut eyes, beneath the floating shade 285 
Of willows grey, close-crouding 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 organized, 2^0 

Waiting the vital Breath, when Parent Heaven 
Shall bid his spirit blow. The hoary fen. 
In putrid steams, emits the living cloud 
Of pestilence. Thro' subterranean cells. 
Where searching sun-beams scarce can find a way, 295 
Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf 
Wants not its soft inhabitants. Secure, 



SUMMER- 6i 



Within its winding citadel, the stone 

Holds multitudes. But chief the forest-boughs, 

That dance unnumbered to the playful breeze j 300 

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. 305 

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, 
Tho* one transparent vacancy it seems, 310 

Void of their unseen people. These, concealed 
By the kind art of forming Heaven, escape 
The grosser eye of Man : for, if the worlds 
In worlds inclos'd should on his senses burst. 
From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl, 315 

He would abhorrent turn ; and in dead night. 
When silence sleeps o'er all, be stun'd with noise. 

Let no presuming impious railer tax 
Creative Wisdom, as if aught was form'd 
In vain, or not for admirable ends. 320 

Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce 
His works unwise, of which the smallest part 
Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind ? 
As if upon a full proportioned dome. 



6a SUMMER. 



On swelling columns heav*d, the pride of art! 325 

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 

Has swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things ; 

Mark'd their dependance so, and firm accord, 351 

As with unfaultering accent to conclude 

That this availeth nought ? Has any seen 

The mighty chain of beings, lessening down 

From Infinite Perfection to the brink 335 

Of dreary Nothing, desolate abyss ! 

From which astonished thought, recoiling, turns ? 

Till then alone let zealous praise ascend. 

And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power, 

Whose wisdom shines as lovely on our minds, 340 

As on our smiling eyes his servant-sun. 

Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways. 
Upward, and downward, thwarting, and convolved. 
The quivering nations sport j till, tempest- wing'd. 
Fierce Winter sweeps them from the face of day. 345 
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 350 

Behind, and strikes them from the book of life. 



SUMMER. 8) 



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, 355 

Half-naked, swelling on the sight, and all 
Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek. 
Even stooping age is here ; and infant-hands 
Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load 
O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll. 360 

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, 365 
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 
Of happy labour, love, and social glee. 376 

Or rushing thence, in one diflfusive band. 
They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog 
Compeird, to where the mazy-running brook 
Forms a deep pool ; this bank abrupt and high. 
And that fair-aipreading in a pebbled shore. 375 

Urg'4 to the giddy brink, much is the toil. 
The clamour much, of men, and boys, and dogs, 
)Bre the soft fearful people to the flood 



«4 SUMMER. 



Commit their woolly sides. Aiid oft the swsdn. 

On some impatient seizing, hurls them in : 380 

Emboldened then, nor hesitating more. 

Fast, fast, they plunge amid the flashing wave. 

And panting labour to the farthest shore. 

Repeated this, till deep the well-wash*d fleece 

Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt 385 

The trout is banishM 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. 

Inly disturbed, and wondering what this wild 390 

Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints 

The country fill ; and, toss*d from rock to rock. 

Incessant bleatings run around the hills. 

At last, of snowy white, the gathered flocks 
Are in the wattled pen innumerous pressM, 395 

Head above head : and, rangM in lusty rows 
The shepherds sit, and whet the sounding shears. 
The housewife waits to roll her fleecy stores. 
With all her gay-drest maids attending round. 
One, chief, in gracious dignity enthroned; 400 

Shines o'er the rest, the past'ral 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 : 405 



SUM ME It 65 



Some mingling sdr the melted tar, and some. 

Deep on the new*shom vagrant's heaving side. 

To stamp his master's cypher ready stand } 

Others th' unwilling wether dtag along i 

And, glorying in his might, the sturdy boy 410 

Holds by the twisted horns th' 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, 415 

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, 420 

Borrowed your fleece, to you a cumbrous load. 

Will send you bounding to your hills again. 

A siMPLB scene ! yet hence Britannia zees 
Her solid grandeur rise : hence she commands 
Th' exalted jtores of every brighter clime, 425 

The treasures of the Sun without his rage : 
Hence, fervent all, with culture, toil, and arts. 
Wide glows her land : her dreadful thunder hence 
Rides o'er the waves sublime j and now, even now. 
Impending hangs o'er Gallia's bundled coast ; 430 
Hence rules the drcling deep, zod awes the world. 

K 



66 SVMMEIL 

'Ti8 raging Noon ; and, vertical, the Sun 
Darts on the bead direct his forceful rays. 
O'er heaven and earth, far as die ranging eye 
Can sweep, a dazling deluge reigns ; and all 435 

From pole to pole is undistinguish'd bla2e« 
In vain the sight, dejected to the ground. 
Stoops for relief; thence hot ascending steams 
And keen reflection pain. Deep to die root 
Of vegeudon parch'd, the cleaving fields 440 

And slippery lawn an arid hue disclose ; 
Blast Fancy's blooms, and wither ev'n the SouL 
Echo no more returns the chearfiil sound 
Of sharpening scythe : the mower sinking heaps 
O'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfumM ; 445 
And scarce a chirping grass-hopper is heard 
Thro' the dumb mead. Distressful Nature pants. 
The very streams look languid from afsu* ; 
Or, thro' tfa' unshelter'd glade, impatient, seem 
To hurl into the covert of the grove. 45a 

All-conquerikg Heat ! oh intermit thy wrath y 
And on my throbbing temples potent thus 
Beam not so fierce. Incessant sdll you flow. 
And still another fervent flood succeeds, 
Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh, 455 

And restless turn, and look around for Night; 
Night is far off} and hotter hours approach* 



SUMME JL 



Thrice happy he ! who on the sunless side 

Of a romantic mountain^ forest<rown'd» 

Beneath the whole collected shade reclines ; 460 

Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine*wrought. 

And fresh bedew'd with eyer-spouting streams^ 

Sitsxoolly calm } while all the world without. 

Unsatisfied, and sick, tosses in noon. 

Emblem instructive of the virtuous Man, 465 

Who keeps his temper^ mind serene, and pure ; 

And eveary passion aptly harmoniz'd. 

Amid a jarring world with vice inflamM. 

WfiLCOM£, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets hail ! 
Ye lofty fiats ! ye venerable oaks ! 470 

Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steq) ! 
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 floate along the herbag'd brink. 475 

Cool, thro' 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 thro' all the lightened limbs* 

Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along 480 
The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock. 
Now scarcely moving thro' a reedy pool. 
Now starting to a sudden stream, and now 
Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain ; 



68 SUMMER. 



A various groupe the herds and flocks compose, 485 
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, 490 

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 sustained; 495 
Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fiU'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 startling scatters from the shallow brook, 500 
In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam. 
They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain. 
Thro' all the bright severity of noon ; 
While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan 
Proceeding, runs low^bellowing round the hills. 595 

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 eflfus'd. 
Darts on the gloomy flood, with stedfiist eye, 510 

And heart estranged to kaa : his nervous chesty 



8UMME IL 



Luxuriant) and erect, the seat of strength. 

Bears downth* opposing stream: quenchless his diirst; 

He takes the river at redoubled draughts ; 

And with wide nostrik, snorting, skims the wave« 5^5 

Still let me perce into the midxiight 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, 520 

And all is awefiil listening gloom around. 

These are the haunts of Meditation ; these 
The scenes where ancient bards th* inspiring breath, 
Eztatic, felt ; and, from this world retir'd. 
Conversed' widi angels, and immortal forms, ^ag 

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 favoured soul 
For future trials fated to prepare ; 530 

To prompt the poet, who devoted ^ves 
His muse to better themes } to soothe the pangs 
Of dying worth, and from tne patriot's breast, 
(Backward to mingle in detested war. 
But foremost when engaged) to turn the death ; 535 
And numberless such offices of love. 
Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform. 



fo SUMMER^ 



Shook sudden from the bosom of the sky^ 
A thousand shapes or g}ide. along the dusk» 
Or stalk majestic on. Deq^-rous'd^ I £cel 540 

A sacred terror, a severe delight^ 
Creep thro* my mortal frame i and thus, methinks^ 
A voice, than human more, th' abstracted ear 
Of fancy strikes. ^^ Be not of us afraid, 
^^ Poor kindred Man I thy feUov-creatures, we 545 
^^ From the same Parjekt-Poweil our beings drew, 
^^ The same our Lord, and laws, and great pursuit*^ 
^< Once some of us, like.thee^ thro' stormy life» 
*^ Toil'd, tempest-beaten, ere we could attain 
^^ This holy calm, this harmony of mind, 559 

^^ Where purity and peace immingle channs. 
^^ Then fear not us; but with responsive song^ 
'^ Amid these dim recesses, undisturbed 
^ By noisy foUy and discordant vice, 
^^ Of Nature sing with us, and Nature's Gon.. 555 

^^ Herb frequent, at the visionary hour^ 
^< When musing midnight reigns or siknt tioou^ 
*^ Angelic harps are in full concert heard, 
^' And voices chaunting from the wood*crown'd hill» 
^ The deepening dale, in uuaost sylvan glade: 560 
** A privilege bestow'd by us, alone^ 
^^ On contemplation, or the hallow'd ear 
** Of Poet, swelling to seraphic strains." . i 



SUlifMEIL ft 

And ait thou, Stamlbt, of diat sacred band? 
Alas, for us too aoon ! Tho' rais*d aboTC $6$ 

Hie reach of human pain, abo?e die flight 
Of human joy ; yet, with a nnngled ray 
Of sa^y pleas'd remeiid>rance, must diou feel 
A mother's lore, a mother's tender woe : 
Who seeks thee still, in many a former scene ; 570 
Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely-beaming eyes. 
Thy pleasing converse, by gay lively sense 
Inspired : where moral wisdom mildly shone. 
Without the toil of art ; and virtue glow'd. 
In all her smiles, without forbidding pride. 575 

But, O thou best of parents ! wipe thy tears ; 
Or rather to Parental Nature pay 
The tear^ of gratefol joy ; who for a while 
Lent thee this younger self, this opening bloom 
Of thy enlightened mind and gentle worth. 580 

Believe the Muse ; the wintry blast of death 
Kills not the buds of virtue ; no, they spread. 
Beneath the heavenly beam of brighter suns. 
Thro' endless ages, into higher powers. 

Thus up the mount, in airy vision rapt, 585 

I stray, regardless whither ; till the sound 
Of a near £dl of water every sense 
WsdLcs from the charm of thought: swift-shrinking backf 
I check my ^teps, and view the broken scene. 



79 S U M M E R« 



Smooth to the shelving brink a (iopiouk^ flood 590 
Rolls fair, and placid ; where collected all^ 
In one impetuous toh-ent, down the steep 
It thundering shoots, and shsd^es the country round. 
At first, an azure sheet, it rushes broad ; 
Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls, 595 

And from the loud-resounding rocks below 
Dash'd in ^ cloud of foam, it sends aloft 
A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower. 
Nor can the tortur'd wave here find repose ; 
But, raging still amid the shaggy rocks^ 600 

Now flashes o'er the scattered fragments, how 
Aslant the hollowed channel rapid darts ; 
And felling fast from gradual slope to slopCj 
With wild infracted course, and lessened roar, 
It gains a safer bed ; and steals, at last, 605 

Along the mazes of the quiet vale. 

Invited from the clifi^, to whose dark brow 
He clings, the steep-ascending eagle soars. 
With upward pinions thro* the flood of day ; 
And, giving full his bosom to the blaze, 610 

Gdns on the sun*; while all the tuneful race, 
Smit by the aflHictive noon, disordered droop. 
Deep in the thicket ; or, from bower to bower 
Responsive, force an interrujpted strain. 
The stock-dove only thro*^ the forest cooest 61$ 



S U M M £ IL 7S 



Mournfully hoarse ; oft ceasing from his plaint } 

Short interval of weary woe ! again 

The sad idea of his murder'd mate. 

Struck from his side by savage fowler's guile. 

Across his hncy comes ; and then resounds 620 

A louder song of sorrow thro* the grove. 

B£siD£ the dewy border let me sit, 
All in the freshness of the humid air ; 
There in that hoUow'd rock, grotesque and wild. 
An ample chair moss-lin'd, and over head 625 

By flowering umbrage shaded ; where the bee 
Strays diligent, and with th' extracted balm 
Of fragrant woodbine loads his little thigh. 

Now, while I taste the sweetness of the shade. 
While Nature lies around deep-luUM in Noon, 630 
Now come-^ bold Fancy, spread a daring flight. 
And view the wonders of the Torrid Zone : 
Climes unrelenting ! with whose rage compar'd. 
Yon blaze is feeble, and yon skies are cool. 

See, how at once the bright-eflfulgent sun, 635 

Risiqg direct swift chases from the sky 
The short-liv'd twilight j and with ardent blaze 
Looks gayly fierce thro* all the dazzling air. , 
He mounts his throne; but kind before- him sends. 
Issuing from out the portals of the morn, 640 

The general Breeze } to mitigate his fire. 
And breathe refreshment on a fainting world. 

L 



74 SUMMER. 



Great are the scenes, with dreadful beauty crown'd 

And barbarous wealth, that see, each circling year. 

Returning suns and double seasons pass : 645 

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 ; 650 

Or to the far horizon wide difFusM 

A boundless deep immensity of shade. 

Here lofty trees, to ancient song unknown. 
The noble sons 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, 
UnnumberM fruits, of keen delicious taste 
And vital spirit, drink amid the cliffs. 
And burning sands that bank the shrubby vales, 660 
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 thro* the green, 66^ 
Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclined 
Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes, 
Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit. 
Deep in the night the massy locust sheds. 



SUMMER. 75 



Quench my hot limbs; or lead me thro* the maze, 670 

Embowering endless, of the Indian fig ; 

Or thrown at gayer ease, on some fair brow. 

Let nie behold, by breezy murmurs cool'd, 

Broad o*er my head the verdant cedar wave, 

And high palmetos lift their graceful shade. Syj^ 

O stretchM amid these orchards of the sun. 

Give me to drain the cocoa's milky bowl. 

And from the palm to draw its freshening wine ; 

More bounteous far, than all the frantic juice 

"Which Bacchus pours. Nor, on its slender twigs 680 

I.ow-bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd j 

Nor, creeping thro* the woods, the gelid race 

Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells 

Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp. 

Witness, thou best Anana ! thou the pride 685 

Of vegetable life, beyond whatever 

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, 691 

And vast savannahs, where the wandering eye, 
Unfixt, is in a verdant ocean lost. 
Another Flora there, of bolder hues. 
And richer sweets, beyond our garden's pride, 6gg 
Plays o'er the fields, and showers with sudden hand 

L 2 



76 SUMMER. 



Exuberant spring : for oft these valleys shift 

Their green- embroidered robe to fiery brown. 

And swift to green again as scorching suns. 

Or streaming dews and torrent rains, prevail. 700 

Along these lonely regions, where rctir'd 
From little scenes of art, great Nature dwells 
In aweful solitude ; and nought is seen 
But the wild herds that own no master's stall ; 
Prodigious rivers roll their fattening seas ; 705 

On whose luxuriant herbage, half-conceal'd. 
Like a fall'n cedar, far-diffus'd his train, 
Cas'd in green scales, the crocodile extends. 

The flood disparts : behold ! in plaited mail. 
Behemoth rears his head. Glanc'd from his side, 710 
The darted steel in idle shivers flies : 
He fearless walks the plain, or seeks the hills ; 
Where, as he crops his varied fare, the herds. 
In widening circle round, forget their food. 
And at the harmless stranger wondering gaze. 7 1 5 

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, 720 

Leans the huge elephant : wisest of brutes ! 
O truly wise ! vnth gentle might endowM ; 
ITio' powerful, not destructive ! Here he sees 



SUMMER. 77 



Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth. 

And empires rise and fall ; regardless he 725 

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 his towery grandeur swell their state. 

The pride of kings ! or else his strength pervert ; 73a 

And bid him rage amid the mortal fray, 

Astonish'd at the madness of mankind. 

Wide o'er the winding umbrage of the floods. 
Like vivid blossoms glowing from afar, 
Thick-swarm the brighter birds. For Nature's hand. 
That with a sportive vanity has deck'd 736 

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. 740 

Nor envy we the gaudy robes they lent 
Proud Montezuma's realm, whose legions cast 
A boundless radiance waving on the sun. 
While Philomel is ours ; while in our shades. 
Thro' the soft silence of the listening night, 745 

The sober-suited songstress trills her lay. 

But come, my Muse, the desart-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 750 



7« SUMMER- 



The Nubian mountains, and the secret bounds 

Of jealous Abyssinia boldly pierce. 

Thou art no rufEan, who beneath the mask 

Of social commerce com'st to rob their wealth ; 

No holy Fury thou ; blaspheming Heaven, 755 

With consecrated steel to stab their peace. 

And thro* 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 ; 760 
From jasmine grove to grove, may'st wander gay ; 
Thro' palmy shades and aromatic woods. 
That gra/:e the plains, invest the peopled hills. 
And up the more than Alpine mountains wave. 
There on the breezy summit, spreading fair, 765 

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 cultured fields ; 770 
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, 775 

And vales of fragrance ; there at distance hear 
The roaring floods, and cataracts, that sweep 



SUMMER. 79 



From disembowerd earth the virgin gold ; 
And o'er the varied landskip, restless, rove. 
Fervent with life of every fairer kind : 780 

A land of wonders ! which the sun still eyeg 
With ray direct, as of the lovely realm 
InamourM, and delighting there to dwell. 

How chang'd the scene ! In blazing height of noon. 
The sun, oppressed, is plung'd in thickest gloom. 785 
Still Horror reigns ! a dreary twilight round. 
Of struggling night and day malignant mix'd ! 
For to the hot equator crouding fast. 
Where, highly rarefy *d, the yielding air 
Admits their stream, incessant vapours roll, 790 

Amazing clouds on clouds continual heap'd ; 
Or whirled tempestuous by the gusty wind. 
Or silent borne along, heavy, and slow, 
With the big stores of steaming oceans charged. 
Meantime, amid these upper seas, condensed 795 

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 800 

Dissolv'd, the whole precipitated mass 
Unbroken floods and solid torrents pour. 

The treasures these, hid from the bounded search 
Of ancient knowledge ; whence, with annual pomp. 



So SUMMER* 



Rich king of floods ! overflows the swelling Nile. 805 
From his two springs, in Gojam's sunny re^lm. 
Pure-welling out, he thro' 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, 810 

That with unfading verdure smile around. 
Ambitious, thence the manly river breaks ; 
And gathering many a flood, and copious fed 
With all the mellowed treasures of the sky. 
Winds in progressive majesty along: 815 

Thro' spltodid kingdoms now devolves his maze; 
Now wanders wild o'er solitary tracts 
Of life-deserted sand ; till, glad to quit 
The joyless desart, down the Nubian rocks 
From thundering steep to steep, he pours his urn, Sao 
And Egypt joys beneath the spreading wave. 
His brother Niger too, and all the floods 
In which the fuU-form'd maids of Afric' lave 
Their jetty limbs j and all that from the tract 
Of woody mountains stretch'd thro' gorgeous Ind 835 
Fall on Cor'mandel's coast, or Malabar ; 
From Menam's orient stream, that nightly shines 
With insect-lamps, to where Aurora sheds 
On Indus' smiling banks the rosy shower : 
All, at this boimteous season, ope their urns, 830 

And pour untoiling harvest o'er the land. 



SUMMER. 8i 



Nor less thy worlds Columbus, drinks, refreshed. 
The lavish moisture of the melting year. 
Wide o'er his isles, the branching Oronoque 
Rolls a brown deluge ; and the native drives 835 

To dwell aloft on life-sufEcing trees ; 
At once his dome, his robe, his food, and arms. 

Swell'o by a thousand streams, impetuous hurl'd 
From all the roaring Andes, huge descends 
The mighty Orellana. Scarce the Muse 840 

Dares stretch her wing o'er this enormous mas3 
Of rushing water -, scarce she dares attempt 
The sea-like Plata ; to whose dread expanse. 
Continuous depth, and wondrous length of course. 
Our floods are rills. With unabated force, 845 

In silent dignity they sweep along ; 
And traverse realms unknown, and blooming wilds> 
And fruitful desarts, worlds of solitude ! 
Where the sun smiles and seasons teem in vain. 
Unseen, and unenjoy'd. Forsaking these, 850 

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. 85 j 

Thus pouring on they proudly seek the deep. 
Whose vanquish'd tide, recoiling from the shock, 

M 




(2 SUMMER. 



Yields to this liquid weight of half the globe ; 
And Ocean trembles for his green domain. 

But what avails this wondrous waste of wealth ? 
This gay profusion of luxurious bliss ? 86 1 

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 unplanted fruits ? What the cool draughts, 
Th' ambrosial food, rich gums, and spicy health, 866 
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, 870 

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 od'rous woods, and shining ivory stores ? 
Ill-fated race ! the softening arts of Peace j 875 

Whatever the humanizing Muses teach ; 
The godlike wisdom of the tempered breast ; 
Progressive truth ; the patient force of thought j 
Inveftigation calm, whose silent powers 
Command the world; the Light that leads to Heaven; 
Kind equal rule ; the government of laws, 88 1 

And all-protecting Freedom, which alone 
Sustains the name and dignity of Man ; 



SUMMER. S3 



These are not theirs. The parent-sun himself 
Seems o'er this world of slaves to tyrannize; 885 

And, with oppressive ray, the roseate bloodi 
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 ; 890 
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, 895 

There lost. The very brute-creation there 
This rage partakes, and bums with horrid fire. 
Lo ! the green serpent, from his dark abode. 
Which ev'n Imagination fears to tread. 
At noon forth-issuing, gathers up his train 900 

In orbs immense ; then, darting out anew. 
Seeks the refreshing fount ; by which diffused. 
He throws his folds: and while, with threatning tongue. 
And deathful jaws erect, the monster curls 
His flaming crest, all other thirst appalPd, 905 

Or shivering flies, or checked at distance stands. 
Nor dares approach. But still more direful he^ 
The small close-lurking minister of Fate, 
Whose high-concocted venom thro* the veins 

M 2 



SUMMER. 



A rapid lightning darts, arresting swift -910 

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, licensed by the shading hour of guilt. 

And foul misdeed, when the pure day has shut 915 

His sacred eye. The tyger darting fierce 

Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd : 

The lively-shining leopard, speckled o'er 

With many a spot, the beauty of the waste ; 

And, scorning all the taming arts of Man, 920 

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 gi^ 

Majestic, stalking o'er the printed sand 5 
And, with imperious and repeated roars. 
Demand their fated food. The fearful flocks 
Croud near the guardian swain ; the nobler herds. 
Where round their lordly bull, in rural ease, 930 

They ruminating lie, with horror hear 
The coming rage. Th* awaken'd village starts ; 
And to her fluttering breast the mother strains 
Her thoughtless infant. From the Pyrate's den. 
Or stern Morocco's tyrant fang escap'd, g^^ 



SUMMER. 85 



The wretch half- wishes for his bonds 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 940 

Amid this world of death. Day after day. 
Sad on the jutting eminence he sits. 
And views the main that ever toils below ; 
Still fondly forming in the farthest verge. 
Where the round ether mixes with the wave, 945 

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 thro' the tedious night.. 950 

Yet here, even here, into these black abodes 
Of monsters, unappallM, from stooping Rome, 
And guilty Caesar, Liberty retired, 
Her Cato following thro' Numidian wilds : 
Disdainful of Campania's gentle plains, 955 

And all the green delights Ausonia pours ; 
When for them she must bend the servile knee. 
And fawning take the splendid robber's boon. 
Nor stop the terrors of these regions here* 
Commissioned demons oft, angels of wrath ! 969 

Let loose the raging elements. Breath'd hot. 
From all the boundless furnace of the sky. 



86 SUMMER. 



And the wide glittering waste of burning sand, 

A suffocating wind the pilgrim smites 

With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil, 965 

Son of the desart ! ev'n the camel feels. 

Shot through his witherM heart, the fiery blast. 

Or from the black-red ether, bursting broad. 

Sallies the sudden whirly^ind. Strait the sands, 

CommovM around, in gathering eddies play j 970 

Nearer and nearer still they darkening come j 

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, 975 

Beneath descending hills, the caravan 

Is buried deep. In Cairo's crouded streets 

Th* impatient merchant, wondering, waits in vain. 

And Mecca saddens at the long delay. 

But chief at sea, whose every flexile wave 980 
Obeys the blast, the aerial tumult swells. 
In the dread ocean, undulating wide. 
Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe. 
The circling Typhon, whirlM from point to point. 
Exhausting all the rage of all the sky, 985 

And dire Ecnephia reign. Amid the heavens. 
Falsely serene, deep in a cloudy speck 
Compress'd, the mighty tempest brooding dwells j 
Of no regard, save to the skilful eye. 



SUMMER. 87 



Fiery and foul, the small prognostic hangs 990 

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 995 

Of roaring winds, and flame, and rushing floods. 

In wild amazement fix'd the sailor stands. 
Art is too slow : By rapid Face oppressed. 
His broad-wing'd vessel drinks the whelming tide. 
Hid in the bosom of the black abyss. 1000 

With such mad seas the daring Gama fought. 
For many a day, and many a dreadful night, 
Incessant, laboring round the stormy Cape j 
By bold ambition led, and bolder thirst 
Of gold. For then, from ancient gloom emerged 1 005 
The 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 ; who, HEAv'N-inspir'd, 
To love of useful glory rous*d mankind, ici i 

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. LurM by the scent 1015 
Of steaming crouds, of rank disease, and death ; 



$S SUMMER* 



Behold ! he rushing cuts the briny floods 

Swift as the gale can bear the ship along ; 

And, from the partners of that cruel trade. 

Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons, 1020 

Demands his share of prey ; demands themselves. 

The stormy Fates descend : one death involves 

Tyrants and slaves ; when strait, their hiangled limbs 

Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas 

With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. 1025' 

When o'er this world, by equinoctial rains 
Flooded immense, looks out the joyless sun. 
And draws the copious stream : from swampy fens. 
Where putrefaction into life ferments. 
And breathes destructive myriads ; or from woods, 
Impenetrable shades, recesses foul, 1031 

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. 1035 

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 quenchM 1040 

The British fire. You, gallant Vernon ! saw 
The miserable scene ; you, pitying, saw. 
To infant-weakness sunk the warrior's arm ; 



SUMMER. 89 



Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghastly form. 
The lip pale-quivering, and the beamless eye 1045 
No more with ardour bright : you heard the groans 
Of agonizing ships, firom 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, 1050 

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 poisoned woods, 1055 
From stifled Cairo's filth, and fetid fields 
With locust-armies putrefying heap'd. 
This great destroyer sprung. Her aweful rage 
The brutes escape : Man is her destin'd prey j 
Intemperate Man ! and, o'er his guilty domes, 1060 
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 suflfus'd. 
Of angry aspect. Princely wisdom, then, 1065 

Dejects his watchful eye ; and from the hand 
Of feeble justice, ineflfectual, drop 
The sword and balance : mute the voice of joy. 
And hush'd the clamour of the busy world. 
Empty the streets, with uncouth verdure clad j 1070 

N 



go SUMMER. 



Into the worst of desarts sudden turned 

The chearful haunt of Men : unless escaped 

From the doomed 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, 1076 

Inhuman, and unwise. The sullen door, 

Yet uninfected, on its cautious hinge 

Fearing to turn, abhors society : 

Dependants, friends, relations. Love himself, 1080 

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 1085 

They fall, unblest, untended, and unmournM. 
Thus o*er the prostrate city black Despair 
Extends her raven wing ; while, to complete 
The scene of desolation, stretched around. 
The grim guards stand, denying all retreat, 1090 

And give the flying wretch a better death. 

Much yet remains unsung : the rage intense 
Of brazen-vaulted skies, of iron fields, 
AA?here drought and famine starve the blasted year : 
FirM by the torch of noon to ten-fold rage, 1095 

Th' infuriate hill that shoots the pillarM flame j 
And, rous'd within the subterranean world. 



SUMMER. 91 



Th' expanding earthquake, that resistless shakes 

Aspiring cities from their solid base. 

And buries mountains in the flaming gulph. 1 100 

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 posseffion of the sky ; surcharged 1 105 

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, mo 
Pollute the sky j and in yon baleful cloud, 
A reddening gloom, a magazine of fate. 
Ferment ; till, by the touch ethereal rousM, 
The dash of clouds, or irritating war 
Of fighting winds, while all is calm below, ' ' '5 

Tbcy furious spring. A boding silence reigns. 
Dread thro* 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 shakes the forest-leaf without a breath. 1 120 

Prone, to the lowest vale, the aerial tribes 
Descend : the tempest-loving raven scarce 
Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze 
The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens 

K 2 



92 SUMMER. 



Cast a deploring eye ; by Man forsook, 1 125 

Who to the crouded cottage hies him fast. 
Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave. 

'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all : 
When to the startled eye the sudden glance 
Appears far south, eruptive thro' the cloud j 1 130 

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 aweful burden on the wind, ^^35 

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. 1 1 40 

Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar. 
Enlarging, deepening, mingling ; peal on peal 
Crushed horrible, convulsing heaven and earth. 

Down comes a deluge of sonorous hail, 
Or prone-descending rain. Wide-rent, the clouds, 1145 
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. 1 149 
Black from the stroke, above, the smouldring pine 
Stands a sad shattered trunk ; and, stretched below. 



SUMMER. 93 



A lifeless groupe 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 1 155 

And ox half-rais'd. Struck on the castled cliff. 

The venerable tower and spiry fene 

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 11 61 

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, 11 65 

Dissolving, instant yields his wintry load. 

Far-seen, the heights of heathy Cheviot blaze. 

And Thule bellows thro' her utmost isles. 

Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought. 
And yet not always on the guilty head 1170 

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 : 
Her*8 the mild lustre of the blooming mom, 11 75 
And his the radiance of the risen day. 

They lov'd : But such their guileless passion was. 
As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart 



SUMMER. 



Of innocence, and undissembling truth. 

*Twas friendship heightened by the mutual wish ; 1 180 

Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow, 

Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all 

To love, each was to each a dearer self j 

Supremely happy in th' awakened power 

Of giving joy. Alone, amid the shades, 1 185 

Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'd 

The rural day ; and talked the flowing heart. 

Or sigh'd and look'd unutterable things. 

So pass'd their life, a clear united stream. 
By care unruflfled ; till, in evil hour, 1 190 

The tempest caught them on the tender walk. 
Heedless how far, and where its mazes stray'd j 
While, with each other blest, creative love 
Still bade eternal Eden smile around. 
Presaging instant fate, her bosom heaved * ^^95 

Unwonted sighs j and stealing oft a look 
Of the big gloom on Celadon, her eye 
Fell tearful, wetting her disordered cheek. 
In vain assuring love, and confidence 1 199 

In Heaven repressed 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 compaflTion shed. 
With love illumin'd high. " Fear not,'* he said, 
" Sweet innocence I thou stranger to offence, 1205 



SUMMER. 95 



** 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, 1210 

** Which thunders terror thro* 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, 12 14 

Mysterious Heaven ! that moment, to the ground, 

A black.ened corse, was struck the beauteous maid. 

But who can paint the lover, as he stood, 

Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life. 

Speechless, and (ix'd in all the death of woe ? 

So, faint resemblance ! on the marble tomb, 1220 

The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands. 

For ever silent, and for ever sad. 

As from the face of heaven the shattered clouds 
Tumultuous rove, th* interminable sky 
S'ublimer swells, and o'er the world expands 1225 

A purer azure. Thro' the lightened 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, 1230 

Invests the fields ; and nature smiles revived. 



96 SUMMER. 



'Ti3 beauty all, and grateful song around, 
Join'd to the low of kine, and numerous bleat * 
Of flocks thick-nibbling thro* the clover'd vale. 
And shall the hymn be marr'd by thankless man, 1235 
Most-favour'd ; who with voice articulate 
Should lead the chorus of this lower world ? 
Shall he, so soon forgetful of the hand 
That hushM the thunder, and serenes the sky. 
Extinguished feel that spark the tempest wak'd ? 1 240 
That s6nse of powers exceeding far his own, 
Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears ? 

Chear'd by the milder beam, the sprightly youth 
Speeds to the well-known pool, whose crystal depth 
A sandy bottom shews. A while he stands 1 245 

Gazing th' inverted landskip, 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 thro' the obedient wave, 1250 
At each short breathing by his lip repellM, 
With arms and legs according well, he makes. 
As humour leads, an easy-winding path ; 
While, from his polished sides, a dewy light 
Eflfuses on the pleas'd spectators round. 1255 

This is the purest exercise of health. 
The kind refresher of the summer-heat ; 



SUMMER. 97 



Nor, when cold Winter keens the brightening flood. 

Would I weak-shwering linger on the brink. 

Thus life redoubles, and is ofc preserved, 1260 

By the bold swimmer, in the swift illapse 

Of accident disastrous. Hence the limbs 

Knit into force ; and the same Roman arm. 

That rose victorious o'er the conquered earth. 

First leafn'd, while tender, to subdue the wave. 1265 

Even, from the body's purity, the mind 

Receives a secret sympathetic aid. 

Close in the covert of an hazel copse. 
Where winded into pleasing solitudes 
Runs out the rambling dale, young Damon fat, 1270 
Penfive, and piercM with love's delightful pangs. 
There to the stream that down the distant rocks 
Hoarse-murmuring fell, and plaintive breeze that play'd 
Among the bending willows j falsely he 
Of Musidora's cruelty complained. 1275 

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 side-long glances from her downcast eye. 
Or from her swelling soul in stifled sighs. 1280 

Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to his vows. 
He fram'd a melting lay, to try her heart j 
And, if an infant passion struggled there. 
To call that passion forth. Thrice happy fwain ! 

o 



98 SUMMER. 



A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate 1285 

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 j 

And, rob'd in loose array, she came to bathe 1290. 

Her fervent limbs in the refreshing stream. 

What shall he do ? In sweet confusion lost, 

.And dubious flutterings, he a while remained : 

A pure ingenuous elegance of foul, 

A delicate refinement, known to few, 1295 

Perplexed 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 1300 

The banks surveying, stripped her beauteous limbs. 
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 ^3^5 

Cast unconfined, and gave him all their charms. 
Than, Damon, thou j as from the snowy leg. 
And slender foot, th' inverted silk she drew ; 
As the soft touch dissolved the virgin zone j 
And, thro* the parting robe, th' alternate breast, 1310 
With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze 



S UMME IL 99 



In fiill luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth. 

How durst thou risque the soul-distracting view ? 

As from her naked limbs, of glowing white. 

Harmonious swell'd by Nature's finest hand, 13 15 

In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn ; 

.And feir-exposM she stood, shrunk from herself. 

With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breeze 

Alarm'd, and starting like the fearful fewn ? 

Then to the flood she rushed ; the parted flood 1320 

Its lovely guest with closing waves receiv*d j 

And every beauty foftening, every grace 

Flushing anew, a mellow lustre shed : 

As shines the lily thro' the chrystal mild ; 

Or as the rose amid the morning dewj 1325 

Fresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows. 

While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the wave 
But ill-conceal'd ; and now with streaming locks. 
That half-embrac'd her in a humid veil. 
Rising again, the latent Damon drew 1330 

Such madning 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 love's refpectful modesty, he deem'd 
The theft profene, if aught profane to love 1335 

Can e'er be deem'd ; and, struggling from the shade. 
With headlong hurry fled : but first these lines, 
Trac'd by his ready pencil, on the bank 

o a 



loo SUMMER. 



With trembling hand he threw. " Bathe on, my fair, 

" Yet unbeheld save by the sacred eye 1350 

** Of faithful love : I go to guard thy haunt ; 

** To keep from thy recess each vagrant foot, 

*' And each licentious eye." With wild furprize. 

As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, 

A stupid moment motionless she stood : 1345 

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'd 1350 
In careless haste, th' alarming paper snatched. 
But, when her Damon's well-known hand she saw. 
Her terrors vanished, and a softer train 
Of mixt emotions, hard to be described. 
Her sudden bosom seiz*d : shame void of guilt ; 1355 
The charming blush of innocence ; esteem 
And admiration of her lover's flame. 
By modesty exalted : ev'n a sense 
Of self-approving beauty stole across 
Her busy thought. At length, a tender calm 1360 
Hushed by degrees the tumult of her foul ; 
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 : 1 365 



SUMMER. 101 

^^ Dear youth ! sole judge of what these verses mean ; 

** By fortune too much favoured, but by love, 

^^ Alas ! not favoured less ; be still as now 

*' Discreet j the time may come you need not fly." 

The sun has lost his rage : his downward orb 1370 
Shoots nothing now but animating warmth. 
And vital lustre ; that, with various ray, 
Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of Heaven, 
Incessant roU'd into romantic shapes. 
The dream of waking fancy ! Broad below, 1375 

CoverM 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 1^80 
With Nature ; there to harmonize his heart. 
And in pathetic song to breathe around 
The harmony to others. Social ft-iends, 
Attun'd to happy unison of soul ; 
To whose exalting eye a fairer world, 1385 

Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse. 
Displays its charms ; whose minds are richly fraught 
With philosophic stores, superior light ; 
And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns 
Virtue, the sons of interest deem romance ; 13^0 

Now call'd abroad enjoy the felling day : 
Now to the verdant Portico of woods. 



102 SUMMER. 



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, 1395 

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, 1399 

Which way, Amanda, shall we bend our course ? 
The choice perplexes. Wherefore should we chuse ? 
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, 1405 

While radiant Summer opens all its pride. 
Thy hill, delightful Shene ? Here let us sweep 
The boundless landskip : now the raptur'd eye. 
Exulting swift, to huge Augusta send ; 
Now to the Sifter-Hills that skirt her plain} 1410 

To lofty Harrow now, and now to where 
Majestic Windfor lifts his princely brow. 

In lovely contrast to this glorious view. 
Calmly magnificent, then will we turn 
To where the silver Thames first rural grows. 141 5 
There let the feasted eye unwearied stray : 
Luxurious, there, rove thro' the pendant woods 
That nodding h^ng Q*er Harrington's retreat; 
And, stooping thence to Ham's embowering walks. 



SUMMER 103 



Beneath whose shades in spotless peace retir'd, 1420 

With Her the pleasing partner of his heart. 

The worthy Queensb'ry yet laments his Gay ; 

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 1425 

In Twitnam's bowers, and for their Pope implore 

The healing God j to royal Hampton's pile j 

To Clermont's terrass'd height ; and Esher's groves ; 

Where in the sweetest solitude, embraced 

By the soft windings of the silent Mole, 1430 

From courts and senates Pelham finds repose. 

Inchanting vale ! beyond whatever the Muse 

Has of Achaia or Hesperia sung ! 

O vale of bliss ! O softly-swelling hills ! 

On which the power of cultivation lies, 1435 

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 landskip into smoke decays ! 1440 

Happy Britannia ! where the Queen of Arts, 
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; 1445 

Thy streams unfailing in the the Summer's drought ; 



164 SUMMER* 



UnmatchM 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. 1450 
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. 
Pleased and unwearied in his guarded toil. 1455 

Full are thy cities with the sons of art j 
And trade and joy, in every busy street. 
Mingling are heard : even 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 j 1461 
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. 1465 

Bold, firm, and graceful, are thy generous youth. 
By hardship sinew*d, and by danger fir'd ; 
Scattering the nations where they go j and first 
Or on the listed plain, or stormy seas. 
Mild are thy glories too, as o'er the plans 1470 

Of thriving peace thy thoughtful fires preside j 
In genius, and substantial learning, high ; 
For every virtue, every worth, renowned ; 



SUMMER. 105 



Sincere, plain-hearted, hospitable, kind ; 

Yet like the mustering thunder when provok'd, 1475 

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 splendor of heroic war. 
And more heroic peace, when governed well, 1480 
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 impressed 
On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms, 1485 

That awes her genius still. In Statesmen thou. 
And Patriots, fertile. Thine a steady More, 
Who, with a generous tho* mistaken zeal. 
Withstood a brutal tyrant's useful rage. 
Like Cato firm, like Aristides just, 1490 

Like rigid Cincinnatus nobly poor ; 
A dauntless soul erect, who smiPd 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. 14.95 
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 
The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn*d, ,1500 

p 



to6 SUMMER. 



Nor sunk his vigour, when a coward-reign 
The warrior fettered ; and at last resigned. 
To glut the vengeance of a vanquished foe. 
Then, active still and unrestrain'd, his mind 
Explored the vast extent of ages past, 1505 

And with his prison-hours enrichM the world ; 
Yet found no times, in all the long research. 
So glorious, or so base, as those he prov'd. 
In which he conquered, and in which he bled. 

Nor can the Muse the gallant Sidney pass, 15 10 
The plume of war ! with early laurels crownM, 
The Lover's myrtle, and the Poet's bay. 
A Hamden too is thine, illustrious land ! 
Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul ; 
- Who stem'd the torrent of a downward age 15 15 

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. 1520 
Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew 
The grave where Russel lies j whose tempered blood. 
With calmest cheerfulness for thee resigned, 
Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign j 
Aiming at lawless power, tho* meanly sunk 1525 

In loose inglorious luxury. With him 
His friend, the British Cassius, fearless bled ; 



SUMMER. i»7 



Of high determin'd spirit, roughly brave. 

By antient learning to th' enlightened love 

Of antient freedom warmM. Fair thy renown 1530 

In awful Sages and in noble Bards ; 

Soon as the light of dawning Science spread 

Her orient ray, and wak'd the Muses' song. 

Thine is a Bacon ; hapless in his choice. 
Unfit to stand the civil storm of state, 1535 

And thro' 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, 1540 

Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tully join'd. 
The great deliverer he ! who from the gloom 
Of cloister'd monks, and jargon-teaching schools. 
Led forth the true Philosophy, there long 
Held in the magic chain of words and forms, 1545 
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. 1549 

The generous Ashley thine, the friend of Man j 
Who scann'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. 

p 2 



io8 SUMMER. 



Why need I name thy Boyle, whose pious search 

Amid the dark recesses of his works, ^55^ 

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 1560 

From laws sublimely simple, speak thy fame 

In all philosophy. For lofty sense. 

Creative fancy, and inspection keen 

Thro* the deep windings of the human heart, 1564 

Is not wild Shakespeare 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 j 

Astonishing as Chaos ; as the bloom 

Of blowing Eden fair ; as Heaven sublime. 1570 

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 antient master, laughing sage, 1575 
Chauger, whose native manners-painting verse, 
Well-moraliz'd, shines thro' 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, 1580 

The feeling hcfirt, simplicity of life. 



SUMMER. 109 



And elegance, and taste ; the faultless form, 
ShapM by the hand of harmony ; the cheek. 
Where the live crimson, thro' the native white 
Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom, 158^ 

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 j 1590 
The look resistless, piercing to the soul. 
And by the soul informed, 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, 1595 
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. 1600 

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 1605 

On gentle deeds, and shedding tears thro' smiles j 
Undaunted Truth, and Dignity of mind ; 
Courage composed, and keen ; sound Temperance, 



no SUMMER. 



Healthful in heart and look ; clear Chastity, 

With blushes reddening as (he moves along, i6xo 

Disordered at the deep regard she draws ; 

Rough Industry j Activity untir'd. 

With copious life informed, and all awake ; 

While in the radiant front, superior shines 

That fir ft paternal virtue. Public Zeal; 1615 

Who throws o*er all an equal wide survey ; 

And, ever musing on the common weal. 

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 1620 
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 Amphitrite, and her tending nymphs, 1625 

(So Grecian fable sung) he dips his orb j 
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; 1630 

As fleets the vision o*er the formful brain, 
This moment hurrying wild th' impassioned soul. 
The next in nothing lost. 'T is so to him. 
The dreamer of this earth, an idle blank ; 
A sight of horror to the cruel wretch, 1635 



SUMMER. Ill 



Who all day long in sordid pleasure roll'd. 

Himself an useless load, has squander'd vile. 

Upon his scoundrel train, what might have cheer'd 

A drooping family of modest worth. 

But to the generous still-improving mind, 1640 

That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy. 

Diffusing kind beneficence around, 

Boastless, as now descends the silent dew } 

To him the long review of order'd life 

Is inward rapture, only to be felt. ^ 1645 

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 i then that of deeper dye 165a 

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 ; 1655 
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 1660 
Her lowest sons, and clothe the coming year. 
From field to field the featherM seeds she wings. 



112 SUMMER 



His folded flock secure, the shepherd home 
Hies, merry-hearted : and by turns relieves 
The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming pail ; 1665 
The beauty whom perhaps his witless heart. 
Unknowing what the joy-mixt anguish means. 
Sincerely loves, by that best language shewn 
Of cordial glances, and obliging deeds. 
Onward they pass, o'er many a panting height, 1670 
And valley sunk, and unfrequented ; where 
At fall of eve, the fairy people throng. 
In various game, and revelry, to pass 
The summer-night, as village-stories tell. 
But far about they wander from the grave 167 s 

Of him, whom his ungentle fortune urgM 
Against his own sad breast to lift the hand 
Of impious violence. The lonely tower 
Is also shun'd ; whose mournful chambers hold. 
So night-struck Fancy dreams, the yelling ghoft. 1680 

Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge. 
The glow-worm lights his gem ; and, thro* 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 1685 

In mantle dun. A faint erroneous ray, 
GlancM from th* imperfect surfaces of things. 
Flings half an image on the straining eye j 
While wavering woods, and villages, and streams. 



SUMMER. iii 

And rocks, and mountain-tops, that long retained 1690 
Th' 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, 1695 
When day-light sickens till it springs afresh, 
Unrival'd reigns, the fairest lamp of night. 
As thus th' effulgence tremulous I drink. 
With cherished gaze, the lambent lightnings shoot 
Across the sky ; or horizontal dart 1706 

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 1705 

Returning, with accelerated course. 
The rushing comet to the sun descends ; 
And as he sinks below the shading earth. 
With awfid train projected o'er the heavens. 
The guilty nations tremble. But, above 171Q 

Those superstitious horrors that enflave 
The fond sequacious herd, to mptic feith 
And blind amazement prone ; the enlightened feWj^ 
Whose godlike minds philosophy exalts. 
The glorious stranger hail. They feel a joy 1 7 15 
Divinely great i they in their powers exult,. 



nV SUMMER. 



That wondrous force of thought, which mounting 

^ums 
This dusky spot, and measures all the sky ; 
While, from his far excursion thro' the wilds 
Of barren ether, faithful to his time, 1720 

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, 1725 

Thro' which his long ellipfis winds ; perhaps 
^To lend new fuel to declining suns. 
To light up worlds, and feed th' eternal fire. 

With thee, serene Philosophy, with thee,' 
And thy bright garland, let me etown my song ! 1 730 
Effusive source of evidence, and troth I 
A lustre shedding o'er th* ennobled mind. 
Stronger than sunmier-noon ; and pure as that. 
Whose mild vibrations soothe th6 parted soul. 
New to the dawning of celestial day. 1735 

Hence thro' her ttourish'd powers, enlaig'd by thee. 
She springs aloft, with elevated pride. 
Above the tangling mass q£ low desires. 
That bind the fluttering crowd ; and^ angelwwing'd,. 
The heights of science and of virtue g^iins, ^740 

Where all is calm and clear ; with Nature rounds . 
Or in the starry regions, or th'- abyss, _^ 

To Reason's and to Fancy's eye display'd : 



SUMMER. 115 



Tiic first up-tracing, from the dreary void, 

The chain of causes and effects to Him, 1745 

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, X750 

Diffusive painted on the rapid mind. 

Tutor'd by thee, hence Poetry exalts 
Her voice to ages ; and informs the page 
With music, image, sentiment, and thought. 
Never to die ! the treasure of mankind ! 1755 

Their highest honour, and their truest joy ! 

Without thee, what were unenlightened Man ? 
A savage roaming thro' the woods and wilds. 
In quest of prey ; and with th* unfashion'd fur 
Rough clad ; devoid of every finer art, 1760 

And elegance of life. Nor happiness 
Domestic, mix*d of tenderness and care^ 
Nor moral excellence, nor social bUss, 
Nor guardian law, were his ; nor various skill 
To turn the furrow^ or to guide the tool 1765 

Mechanic ; nor the heaven-conducted prow 
Of navigation bold, that fearless braves 
The burning Une, or dares the wintry pole; 
Mother severe of infinite delights ! 
Nothing, save rapine, iijdolence, and guije> 1770 
a 2 



it6 S tr M M E ft. 

And woes on woes, a still-revolving train I 

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 1 775 

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. 1780 

Nor to this evanescent speck of earth 
Poorly confin'd, the radiant tracts on high 
Are her exalted range ; intent to gaze 
Creation thro' : and, from that full complex 
Of never-ending wonders, to conceive 1785 

Of the Sole Bbing rights who spoke the word. 
And Nature mov'd complete. With inward view. 
Thence on th' ideal kingdom swift Ihc turns 
Her eye ; and instant, at her powerful ^ance, 
Th' obedient phantoms vanish or a{^>ear; '79^ 

Compound, divide, and into order Ihift, 
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 abstraA ; where first begins 17^ 
The world of spirits, action all, and life - 

JtJi^etter d^ ^nd u»mixt. But here the cloud;^ 

••• V • I 



SUMMER- 



iiT 



So wills Eternal Provibence, sits deep. 

Enough for us to know that this dark state^ 

In wayward passions lost, and vain pursuits^ 180O 

This Infancy of Being, cannot prove 

The final issue of the works of God ; 

Sy boundless Love and perfect Wisdom fonn'd^ 

And ever rising with the rising mind. 







AUTUMN. 



BOOK THE THIRD. 




Now stin*barnt reapers seek the corn^dad fields 
And ripeci'd fruits dciici^aus Sjtrour ykld. 

C>iROW>rD with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf^ 
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain^ 
Conies jovial on ; the Doric reed once more. 
Well pleas'dj I tuoe. Whatever the Wintry fitost 



ttft AUTUMN- 



Nitrous prepar'd ; the various-blossom'd Spring 5 
Put in wliite promise forth ; and Summer-suns 
Concocted strong, ruvsh boundless now to view ; 
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme. 

Onslow ! the Muse, am])itious- of thy name, 
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song, 10 

Would from the PubUc Voice thy gcmtle ear 
A while 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 tongue; 15 
Devolving thro* the maze of eloquence 
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song. 
But she too pants for public virtue ; she, 
Tho' weak of power, yet strong in ardent will. 
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart, jao 

Assumes a bolder note ; and fondly tries 
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame. 

When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days, 
And Libra weighs in equal scales the year ; 
From heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook 
Of parting Summer, a serener blue, 26 

With golden light enliven'd, wide invests 
The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise, 
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft thro' lucid clouds 
A pleaiing calm ; while broad, and brown, below 3^ 
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head. 



AUTUMN- 12$ 



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 tlie breeze to blow. 35 

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-checker'd heart-expanding view, 40 

Far as the circling eye can shoot around. 

Unbounded tossing in a flood of com. 

These are thy blessings. Industry ! rough power ! 
Whom labour still attends, and fweat, and pain ; 
Yet the kind source of every gentle art, 45 

And all the soft civility of lite : 
Raiser of human kuid ! by Nature cast. 
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods 
And wilds, to rude inclement elements ; 
With various seeds of art deep in the mind 50 

Implanted, and profusely pour'd around 
Materials infinite ; but idle all. 
Still unexerted, in th' unconscious breast. 
Slept the lethargic powers ; corruption still. 
Voracious, swallow'd what the liberal hand 55 

Of bounty scatter'd o'er the savage year : 
And still the fad barbarian, roving, mix'd 
With beasts of prey ; or for his acom**meal 

& a 



114 AUTUMN. 



Fought the fierce tusky boar ; a fliivering wretch ! 
Aghast, and comfortless, when the bleak north, 6b 
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 65 

Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty ; where,. 
Supporting and supported, polished friends^ 
And dear relations mingle into bliss. 
But this the rugged savage never felt> 
£T*n desolate in crowds ; and thus his days 70 

'Roird heavy, dark, and unenjoy'd along : 
A waste of time ! till Industry approached, 
And roused him from his miserable sloth : 
His faculties unfolded ; pointed out, 
Where lavilh Nature the directing hand 75 

Of Art demanded ; shew'd him how to raise 
His feeble force by the mechanic powers ; 
To dig the mineral from the vaulted earth ; 
On what to turp the piercing rage of fire ; 
On what the torrent, and the gather d blaft ; 8q 

Gave the tall ancient forest to l^ ax ; 
Taught him to chip the wood, a25W hew the stone^ 
Till by degrees the finished fabric rofe ; 
Tore from his limbs the blood-polluted fur. 
And wrapt them in the woolly vestment warm ; 85 



AUTUMN. i«$ 



Or bright in glossy silk, and flowing lawn ; 

With wholesome viands fiU'd his taUe ; pour'd 

The generous glass around, inspired to wake 

The life-refining soul of decent wit : 

Nor flopped at barren bare necessity ; 90 

But flill advancing bolder, led him on 

To pomp, to pleasure, elegance, and grace ; 

And, breathing high ambition thro' his soul. 

Set science, wifdom, glory, in his view. 

And bade him be the Lord of all below* 95 

Then gathering men their natural powers combined, . 
And form'd a Public ; to the general good 
i^ilmiitting, aiming, and conducting alL 
For this the Patriot-Council met, the full. 
The free^^ and fairly represented Whole ; 100 

For this they planned the holy guardian laws ; 
Distinguished orders, animated arts. 
And with joint force Oppression chaining, set 
Ipiperial Justice at the helm ; yet still 
To them accountable : nor slavish dream'd 105 

That toiling millions must resign their weal. 
And all the honey of their search, to such 
As for themselves alone themselves have rais'd. 

Hencs every form of cultivated life 
In order set, protected, and inspir'd, tio 

Into perfection wrought Uniting all, 
Society grew numerous^ high^ polity 



it6 A U T U M N. 



And happy. Nurse of art ! the city rear'd 
In beauteous pride her tower-encircled head ; 
And, stretching street on street, by thousands drew^ 115: 
From twining woody haunts, or the tough yew 
To* bows strong-straining, her aspiring sons. 

Then Commerce brought into the public walk 
The busy merchant ; the big warehouse built ; 119 
Raised the strong crane ; choak'd up the loaded street 
With foreign plenty ; and thy stream, O Thames, 
Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods i 
Chose for his grand resort. On either hand> 
Like a long wintry forest, groves of masts 
Shot up their spires ; the bellying sheet between i^^ 
Possessed the breezy void ; the sooty hulk 
Steer'd fluggilh on ; the splendid barge along 
^ow'd, regular, to harmony ; around. 
The boat, light-skimming, stretch'd its oary wings ; 
While deep the various voice of fervent toil 13a 

From bank to bank increased ; whence ribb'd with oak. 
To bear the British Thunder, black, and bold,* 
The roaring vessel rush'd into the main. 

Then, too, the pillar'd dome, magnific, heav d 
Its ample roof; and Luxury within 135 

Pour'd out her glittering stores : the canvas smooth^ 
Witfi glowing life protuberant, to the view 
Embodied rose ; the statue seem*d to breathe. 
And soften into fleih ; beneath the touch 

I 



AUTUMN. t%i 



Of fonning art, imagination-flush'd. 140 

All is the gift of Industry ; whatever 

Exalts, embellishes, and renders life 

Delightful. Pensive Winter cheer'd by him 

Sits at the social fire, and happy hears 

Th' excluded tempest idly rave along ; 145 

His hardened fingers deck the gaudy Spring ; 

Without him Summer were an arid waste ; 
^or to th' Autumnal months could thus transmit 

Those full, mature, immeasurable stores, 

TTiat, wavhig round, recall my wanderii^ song. 150 
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 155 

By nameless gentle offices her toil. 

At once they stoop and swell the lusty sheaves ; 

While thro' their cheerful band, the rural talk. 

The rural scandal, and the rural jest. 

Fly harmless ; to deceive the tedious time, 160 

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, 165 

Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick. 



ttS AUTUMN. 



.Be not too narrow^ husbandmen ; but fling 
From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth. 
The lib'ral handful. Think, oh grateful think ! 
How good the Gron of Harvest is to you ; 170 

Who pours abundance o*er your flowing fields ; 
While these unhappy partners of your kind 
Wide-hover round you, like the fowls of heav*n, 
And ask their humble dole^ The various turns 
Of fortune ponder ; that your sons may want 1 75 
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 deprived of all. 
Of every stay, save Innocence and Heavek^ iSo 
She, with her widoW'd mother, feeble, old. 
And poor, liv'd in ft cottage, far retired 
Among the windings of a woody vale, 
By solitude and deep surrounding shades^ 
But more byjbashful modesty, conceaFd. 185 

Together thus they ihunn^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 repose, t^o 
Content, and careless of to-morrow's fare. 

Her form was frefher than the morning rose. 
When the dew wets its leaves^ unstain*d and pure^ 



AUTUMN. 129 

As is the lily, or the mountain snow. 

The modest virtues mingled in her eyes, 195 

Still on the ground dejected, darting all 

Their humid beams into the blooming flowers : 

Or when the mournful tale her mother told. 

Of what her faithless fortune ppomisM once, 

Thriird in her thought, they, like the dewy star 200 

Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace 

Sat ftdr-proportion*d on her polished limbs, 

Veird in a simple robe, their best attire. 

Beyond the pomp of dress ; for loveliness 

Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, 205 

But is when unadorned adornM the most. 

Thoughtless of beauty, she was beauty's self. 

Recluse amid the close-embowering woods. 

As in the hollow breast of Appenine, 

Beneath the shelter of encircling hills, . 21a 

A myrtle rises, far from human eye. 

And breathes its balmy fragrance o*er the wild ; 

So flourished blooming, and unseen by all. 

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

By strong Necessity's supreme command, 215 

With smiling patience in her looks, she went 

To glean Palemon's fields. The pride of swains 

Palemon was, the generous and the rich j 

Who led the rural life in all its joy 

And elegance, such as Arcadian song 220 



130 AUTUMN. 



Transmits from ancient uncorrupted times ; 
When tyrant custom had not shackled Man, 
But free to follow Nature was the mode. 
He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes 
Amusing, chanc'd beside his reaper-train 225 

To walk, when poor Lavinia drew his eye j 
Unconscious of her power, and turning quick 
With unaffected blushes from his gaze : 
He saw her charming, but he saw not half 
The charms her downcast modesty conceal* d. 230 

That very moment love and chaste desire 
Sprung in his bosom, to himself unknown ; 
For still the world prevailed, and its dread laugh. 
Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn. 
Should his heart own a gleaner in the field j 235 

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, 
^* Shoul4 be devoted to the rude embrace 240 

" Of some indecent clown. She looks, methinks, 
^ Of old AcXsTo's line; and to my mind 
" Recalls that patron of my happy life, 
** From whom my liberalfortune took its rise; 
" Now to the dust gone down ; his houses, lands, 245 
" And once fair-spreading family, dissolved. 
** 'Tis said that in some lone obscure retreat. 



AUTUMN. 131 

^ Urg'd by remembrance sad, and decent pride, 
** Far from those scenes which knew their better days, 
^' His aged widow and his daughter live, 250 

** Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. 
'^ Romantic wish ! would this the daughter were !'' 

When, strict enquiring, from herself he found 
She was the same, the daughter of his friend. 
Of bountiful Acasto j who can speak 2^^ 

The mingled passions that surprized his heart. 
And thro' his nerves in shivering transport ran ? 
Then blaz'd his smotherM flame, avowM, and bold j 
And as he viewed her, ardent, o*er and o*er. 
Love, gratitude, and pity wept at once. 260 

Confiis'd, and frightened at his sudden tears. 
Her rising beauties flushed a higher bloom, /^/ 
As thus Palemon, passionate, and just, ^^^^ 

PourM out the pious rapture of his soul : 

** And art thou then Acasto's dear remains ? 265 
** 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 \ 270 
** Thou sole surviving blossom from the root 
.** That nourishM up ihy fortune ! Say, ah where! 
*' In what sequestered desert, hast thou drawn 
" The kindest aspect of delighted Heaven ? 
s 2 



13* 



AUTUMN. 



** Into such beauty spread^ and blown so fair j ay^ 

*' Tho' 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, 

** Diflfuse their warmest, largest influence ; 280 

** And of my garden be the pride, and joy, 

« 111 it befits thee, oh it ill befits 

** AcASTo's daughter, his whose open stores, 

*' Tho' vast, were little to his ampler heart, 

** The father of a country, thus to pick 285 

** The very refuse of those harvest-fields, 

** Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy. 

*' Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, 

** But ill apply'd to such a rugged task j 

** The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine ; 290 

'* If to the various blessings which thy house 

*' Has on me lavished, thou wilt add that bliss, 

'* That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee !" 

H£R£ ceasM the youth : yet still his speaking eye 
Expressed the sacred triumph of his soul, 29^; 

With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love. 
Above the vulgar joy divinely raised. 
Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm 
Of goodness irresistible, and all* 
In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent. 300 

The news immediate to her mother brought. 



AUTUMN. 133 



While, piercM with anxious thought, she pin*d away 

The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate j 

Amaz'd, and scarce believing what she heard, 

Joy seized her withered veins, and one bright gleam 

Of setting life shone on her evening-hours : 306 

Not less enraptured than the happy pair ; 

Who flourished long in tender bliss, and rear'd 

A numerous oflfspring, lovely like themselves ; 

And good, the grace of all the country round. 310. 

Defeating oft the labours of the year. 
The sultry south collects a potent blast. 
At first the groves are scarcely seen to stir 
Their trembling tops ; and a still murmur runs 
Along the soft-inclining fields of corn. 315 

But as the aerial tempest fuller swells, 
And in one mighty stream, invisible. 
Immense ! the whole excited atmosphere 
Impetuous rushes o*er the sounding world ; 
Strain'd to the root, the stopping forest pours 320 

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. 
Exposed, and naked, to its utmost rage, 325 

Thro' all the sea of harvest rolling round. 
The billowy plain floats wide ; nor can evade, 
Tho* pliant to the blast, its seizing force j 



134 AUTUMN- 



Or whirrd in air, or into vacant chaff 

Sook waste. And sometimes too a burst of rain, 330 

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. 335 

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, 340 

Roll mingled down ; all that the winds had spar'd 

In one wild moment ruin*d ; the big hopes. 

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

Fled to some eminence, the husbandman 
Helpless beholds the miserable wreck 345 

Driving along j his drowning ox at once 
Descending, with his labours scatter'd round. 
He sees ; and instant o'er his shivering thought 
Comes winter unprpvided, and a train 
Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, then, 350 
Be mindful of the rough laborious hand. 
That sinks you soft in elegance and ease s 
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, 355 



AUTUMN. 135 

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, 360 
The gun fast-thundering, and the winded horn. 
Would tempt the Muse to sing the rural Game : 
How, in his mid-career, the spaniel struck. 
Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose. 
Outstretched, and finely sensible, draws full, 365 

Fearful, and cautious, on the latent prey ; 
As in the sun the circling covey bask 
Their varied plumes, and watchful every way^ 
Thro' the rough stubble turn the secret eye. 
Caught in the meshy snare, in vain they beat 37a 

Their idle wings, intangled more and more : 
Nor on the surges of the boundless air, , 

Tho' borne triumphant, are they safe ; the gun 
GlancM just, and sudden, from the fowler's eye, 
O'ertakes their sounding pinions ; and again, 375 
Immediate, brings them from the towering wing. 
Dead to the ground ; or drives them wide-dispers'd. 
Wounded, and wheeling various, down the wind. 

These are not subjects for the peaceful muse, 
Nor will she stain with such her spotless song ; 380 
Then most delighted, when she social sees 
The whole mix'd animal-creation round 



t}6 A U T U M N. 



Alive, and happy. *T is not joy to her, 

This falsely-cheerful barb'rous game of death ; 

This rage of pleasure, which the restless youth 385 

Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn j 

When beasts of prey retire, that all night long, 

UrgM by necessity, had rang'd the dark ; 

As if their conscious ravage shun'd the light, 

Asham'd. Not so the steady tyrant man, 390 

Who with the thoughtless insolence of power 

Inflamed, 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. 395 

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. 

Is what your horrid bosoms never knew. 400 

Poor is the triumph o*er the timid hare, 
ScarM from the corn, and now to some lone seat 
Retir'd : the rushy fen ; the ragged furze. 
Stretched o'er the stony heath ; the stubble chapt j 
The thistly lawn ; the thick-entangled broom ; 405 
Of the same friendly hue, the withered fern ; 
The fallow ground laid open to the sun, 
Concoctive ; and the nodding sandy bank. 
Hung o*er the mazes of the mountain brook. 



AUTUMN. 137 



Vain is her best precaution ; tho' she sits 410 

Conceal'd, with folded ears ; unsleeping eyes. 

By Nature rais'd to take th' horizon in ; 

And head couch-M close betwixt her hairy feet. 

In act to spring away. The scented dew 

Betrays her early labyrinth ; and deep, 415 

In scattered sullen openings, far behind. 

With every breeze she hears the coming storm. 

But nearer, and more frequent, as it loads 

The sighing gale, she springs amaz'd ; and all 

The savage soul of game is up at once : - - 420 

The pack full-opening, various ; the shrill horn 

Resounded from the hills ; the neighing steed. 

Wild for the chase ; and the loud hunters shout ; 

0*er a weak, harmless, flying creature, all 

Mix'd in mad tumult, and discordant joy. 425 

The stag too, singled from the herd, where long 
He rang'd the branching monarch of the shades. 
Before the tempest drives. At first, in speed. 
He, sprightly, puts his faith ; and rous'd by fear. 
Gives all his swift aerial soul to flight ; 430 

Against the breeze he darts, that way the more 
To leave the lessening murderous cry behind : 
Deception short ! tho* fleeter than the winds 
Blown o'er the keen-airM mountain by the north. 
He bursts the thickets, glances thro* the glades, 435 
And plunges deep into the wildest wood j 



138 AUTUMN. 



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 thro* his every shift. 440 

He sweeps the forest oft j and sobbing sees * 

The glades, mild opening to the golden day j 

Where, in kind contest, with his butting friends 

He wont to struggle, or his loves enjoy. 

Oft in the full-descending flood he tries 445 

To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides : 

Oft seeks the herd ; the watchful herd, alarmM, 

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 450 

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, 455 

Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest. 

And mark his beauteous checkered sides with gore. 

Of this enough. But if the sylvan youth. 
Whose fervent blood boils into violence, 
Must have the chase ; behold, despising flight, 460 
The rous'd-up lion, resolute, and slow, 
Advancing full on the protended spear. 
And coward-band^ that circling wheel aloof. 



AUTUMN. 139, 



Slunk from the caveniy and the troubled wood. 

See the grim wolf; on him his shaggy foe 465 

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 471 

Loose on the nightly robber of the fold : 
Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearthM, 
Let all die thunder of the chase pursue. 
Throw the broad ditch behind you ; o'er the hedge 475 
High-bound, resistless ; nor the deep morass 
Refuse; but thro' 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 480 

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, 485 

Pour all your speed into the rapid game. 
For happy he ! who tops the wheeling chase ; 
Has every maze evolv'd, and every guile 
Disclos'd ; who knows the merits of the pack ; 
Who saw the villain seiz'd, and dying hard, 493 

T 2 



I40 AUTUMN. 



Without complaint, tho* 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, 495 
Depending decent from the roof; and spread 
Round 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, 500 

And their repeated wonders shake the dome. 
But first the fueled chinmey 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, 505 
They deep incision 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, 510 

Relating all the glories of the chase. 
Then sated Hunger bids his brother Thirst 
Produce the mighty bowl ; the mighty bowl, 
Sweird high with fiery juice, steams liberal round 
A potent gale J delicious, as the breath $1$ 

Of Maia to the love-sick shepherdess. 
On violets diflfus'd ; while soft she hear* 



AUTUMN. 141 



Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. 

Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn. 

Mature and perfect^ from his dark retreat 520 

Of thirty years ; and now his honest front 

Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid 

Ev'n with the vineyard's best produce to vie. 

To cheat the thirsty moments. Whist a while 

Walks his dull round, beneath a cloud of smoke* 525 

Wreath'd, fragrant, from the pipe ; or the quick dice> 

In thunder leaping from the box, awake 

The sounding gammon : while romp-loving miss 

Is haul'd about, in gallantry robust* 

At last these puling idlenesses laid 530 

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 
Indulged apart j but earnest, brimming bowls 535 
Lave 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, 539 

Reels fast from theme to theme ; from horses, hounds. 
To church or mistress, politics or ghost. 
In endless mazes, intricate, perplexed. 

Mean-time, with sudden interruption, loud, 
Th' impatient catch bursts from the joyous heart ; 



143 A tr T U M N. 



That moment touched is every kindred soul j 545 

And, opening in a fuU-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 550 

The dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls : 

So gfftdual sinks their mirth. Their feeble tongues. 

Unable to take up the cumbrous word. 

Lie quite dissolved. Before their maudlin eyes. 

Seen dim, and blue, the double tapers dance, SSS 

Like the sun wading thro* the misty sky. 

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

Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazetteers, 

As if the table ev'n itself was drunk. 

Lie a wet broken scene ; and wide, below, 560 

Is heap'd the social slaughter : where astride 

The lubber Power in filthy triumph sits. 

Slumbrous, inclining still from side to side ; 

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

Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch, 565 

Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink. 

Out-lives them all j and from his bury'd flock 

Retiring, full of rumination sad. 

Laments the weakness of. these latter times. 

But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport 570 

Is hurried wild, let not such horrid joy 



AUTUMN. 143 



E'er stain the bosom of the British Fair. 

Far be the spirit of the chase from them ; 

Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill ; 

To spring the fence, to rein the prancing steed j S7S 

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 580 

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 Man* 585 

O MAY their eyes no miserable sight. 
Save weeping lovers, see j a nobler game. 
Thro' Love's enchanting wiles pursued, yet fled. 
In chase ambiguous. May their tender limbs 
Float in the loose simplicity of dress ; 590 

And, feshion'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, 595 

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 ; 



144 AUTUMN. 



To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, 

And heighten Nature's dainties ; in their race 600 

To rear their graces into second life ; 

To give Society its highest taste ; 

Well-ordered Home Man's best delight to make j 

And by submissive wisdom, modest skill. 

With every gentle care-eluding art, 605 

To raise the virtues, animate the bliss. 

And sweeten all the toils of human life : 

This be the female dignity, and praise. 

Te swains now hasten to the hazeUbank ; 
Where, down yon dale, the wildly- winding brook 
Falls hoarse from steep to steep. In close array, 611 
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 ; 615 

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 : 620 

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 €2$ 



A U T U Rf N. I4J 



Of Autumn, unconfin'd ; and taste, revivM, 

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 630 

Lies, in a soft profusion, scattered round. 

A various sweetness swells the gentle race j 

By Nature's all-refining hand prepared ; 

Of temper'd sun, and water, earth, and air. 

In ever- changing composition mixt. 6^^ 

Such, falling frequent thro' 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, 640 

Dwells in their gelid pores } and, active, points 

The piercing cyder for the thirsty tongue : 

Thy native theme, and boon inspirer too. 

Philips, Pomona's bard! the second thou 

Who nobly durst, in rhyme-unfetter'd verse, 645 

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 j 

And tasteful some, to cool the summer-hours. 6^q 

In this glad season, while his sweetest beams 
The sun sheds equal o'er the meekened day } 

u 



146 AUTUMN. 



Oh lose me in the green delightful walks 

Of, DoDiNGTON, thy seat, serene and plain ; 

Where simple Nature reigns ; and every view, 6^$ 

Diffusive, spreads the pure Dorsetian downs. 

In boundless prospect ; yonder shagg'd with wood. 

Here rich with harvest, and there white with flocks ! 

Mean-time the grandeur of thy lofty dome. 

Far-splendid, seizes on the ravish'd eye. 660 

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 bf thy genius all ! the Muses' seat : 

Where in the secret bower, and winding walk, 66^ 

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, 670 

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 ; 6j^ 

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 j 



AUTUMN. 147 



And scarcely wishes for a warmer sky. 680 

Turn we a moment Fancy's rapid flight 
To vigorous soils, and climes of fair extent j 
Where, by the potent sun elated high. 
The vineyard swells refulgent on the day j 
Spreads o'er the vale j or up the mountain climbs, 685 
Profuse ; and drinks amid the sunny rocks. 
From cliff to cliff increas'd, the heightened blaze. 
Low bend the weighty boughs. The clusters clear. 
Half thro* the foliage seen, or ardent flame. 
Or shine transparent ; while perfection breathes 690 
White o'er the turgent film the living dew. 
As thus they brighten with exalted juice, 
Touch'd into flavour by the mingling ray ; 
The rural youth and virgins o'er the field. 
Each fond for each to cull th' autumnal prime, 695 
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. 
Round the rais'd nations pours the cup of joy : 700 
The claret smooth, red as the lip we press 
In sparkling fancy, while we drain the bowl ; 
The mellow-tasted burgundy ; and quick. 
As is the wit it gives, the gay champaign. 

Now, by the cool declining year condens'd, 705 
Descend the copious exhalations ^ check'd 

u 2 



148 AUTUMN. 



As up the middle sky unseen they stole ; 

And roll the doubling fogs around the hilt. 

No more the mountain, horrid, vast, sublime, 

Who pours a sweep of riversr from his sides, 710 

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, 715 

The huge dusk, gradual, swallows up the plain : 

Vanish the woods ; the dim-seen river seems 

Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave. 

Ev'n in the height of noon opprest, the sun 

Sheds weak, and blunt, his wide-refracted ray ; 720 

Whence glaring oft, with many a broadened orb, 

He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth. 

Seen thro' the turbid air, beyond the life 

Objects appear ; and, wilder'd, o'er the waste 

The shepherd stalks gigantic. Till at last 725 

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 Cso sung the Hebrew Bard) 730 

Light, uncollected, thro* the chaos urg*d 

Its infant way; nor Order yet had drawn 

His lovely train from out the dubious gloom. 



AUTUMN. 149 



These roving mists, that constant now begin 
To smoak along the hilly country, these 735 

With weighty rains, and melted Alpine snows. 
The mountain-cisterns fill, those ample stores 
Of water, scoop'd among the hollow rocks j 
Whence gush the streams, the ceaseless fountains play. 
And their unfailing wealth the rivers draw. 740 

Some sages say, that where the numerous wave 
For ever lashes the resounding shore, 
Driird thro* the sandy stratum, every way. 
The waters with the sandy stratum rise; 
Amid whose angles infinitely strained, f4^ 

They joyful leave their jaggy salts behind. 
And clear and sweeten, as they soak along* 
Nor stops the restless fluid, mounting still. 
Though oft amidst th' irriguous vale it springs ; 
But to the mountain courted by the sand, 750 

That leads it darkling on in faithful maze. 
Far from the parent-main, it boils again 
Fresh into day; and all the glittering hill 
Is bright with spouting rills. But hence this vain 
Amusive dream ! why should the waters love 755 
To take so far a journey to the hills, 
When the sweet valleys oflFer to their toil 
Inviting quiet, and a nearer bed ? 
Or if, by blind ambition led astray. 
They must aspire ; why should they sudden stop 760 



150 AUTUMN. 



Among the broken mountain's rushy dells, 

And, ere they gain its highest peak, desert 

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

Besides, the hard agglomerating salts. 

The spoil of ages, would impervious choak 765 

Their secret channels ; or, by slow degrees. 

High as the hills protrude the swelling vales : 

Old Ocean too, suck'd thro' the porous globe. 

Had long ere now forsook his horrid bed. 

And brought Deucalion's watry times again. 770 

Say then, where lurk the vast eternal springs. 
That, like creating Nature, lieconceal'd 
From mortal eye, yet with their lavish stores 
Refresh the globe, and all its joyous tribes ? 
O thou pervading Genius, given to Man, 'JTS 

To trace the secrets of the dark abyss ! 
O lay the mountains bare ; and wide display 
Their hidden structure to th' astonish'd view; 
Strip from the branching Alps their piny load ; 
The huge incumbrance of horrific woods 780 

From Asian Taurus, from Imaus 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, 785 

The Dofrine Hills, thro' Scandinavia roU'd 
To farthest Lapland and the frozen main j 



AUTUMN. 151 



From lofty Caucasus, far seen by those 

Who in the Caspian and black Euxine toil ; 

From cold Riphean Rocks, which the wild Russ 790 

Believes the stony girdle of the world ; 

And all the dreadful mountains, wrapt in storm. 

Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods ; 

sweep th* eternal snows, hung o'er the deep. 

That ever works beneath his sounding base. 795 

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 of the Moon ! 800 

Overtopping all these giant-sons of earth. 
Let the dire Andes, from the radiant Line 
Stretched to the stormy seas that thunder round 
The southern pole, their hideous deeps unfold. 

Amazing scene ! Behold ! the glooms disclose ; 805 

1 see the rivers in their infant beds ! 

Deep, deep I hear them, laboring to get free ! 

I see the leaning strata, artful rang'd ; 

The gaping fissures to receive the rains. 

The melting snows, and ever-dripping fogs. 810 

Strow'd bibulous above I see the sands. 

The pebbly gravel next, the layers then 

Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths, 

The gutterM rocks and mazy-running clefts; 



151 AUTUMN. 



That, while the stealing moisture they transmit, 815 

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 hardened chalk. 

Or stiflf compacted clay, capacious form'd* ' 820 

O'erflowing thence, the congregated stores. 

The crystal treasures of the liquid world. 

Thro' the stirr'd sands a bubbling passage burst ; 

And welling out, around the middle steep. 

Or from the bottoms of the bosom'd hills, 825 

In pure effusion flow. United, thus, 

Th' 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, 830 

In bounteous rivers to the deep slgain ; 

A social commerce hold, and firm support 

The full-adjusted harmony of things. 

When Autumn scatters his departing gleams, 
Warn*d of approaching Winter, gathered, play 835 
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, 840 
And where, unpierc'd by frost, the cavern sweats. 



AUTUMN. iss 

O!" rather into warmer climes conveyed, 

With other kindred birds of season, there 

They twitter cheerful, till the vernal months 

Invite them welcome back : for, thronging, now 845 

Innumerous wings are in commotion all. 

Where the Rhine loses his majestic force 
In Belgian plains, won from the raging deep. 
By diligence amazing, and the strong 
Unconquerable hand of Liberty, 850 

The stork-assembly meets j for many a day. 
Consulting deep, and various, ere they take 
Their arduous voyage thro' the liquid sky. 
And now their rout designed, their leaders chose. 
Their tribes adjusted, cleaned their vigorous wings ; 855 
And many a circle, many a short essay, 
WheePd round and round, in congregation full 
The figured flight ascends; and, riding high 
The aerial billows, mixes with the clouds. 

. Or where the Northern ocean, in vast whirls, 860 
Boils round the naked melancholy isles 
Of farthest Thul^, and the Atlantic surge 
Pours in among the stormy Hebrides ; 
Who can recount what transmigrations there 
Are annual made? what nations come and go? 865 
And how the living clouds on clouds arise? 
Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air. 
And rude resounding shore, are one wild cry. 

X 



iS4, AUTUMN. 



Here the plain harmless native, his small flock. 
And herd diminutive of many hues, 87a 

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 87^ 

Of luxury. And here a while the Muse, 
High-hovering o*er the broad cerulean scene^ 
Sees CALEDoifiA, in romantic view : 
Her airy mountains, from the waving main. 
Invested with a keen diffusive sky, 88a 

Breathing the soul acute; her forests hv^e, 
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; 885 
With many a cool translucent brimming flood 
Wash'd lovely, from the Tweed (pure parent stream. 
Whose past'ral banks first heard my Doric reed. 
With, silvan Jed, thy tributary brook) . 
To where the north-inflated tempest foams 89Q 

O'er Orca*& 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^ 89 j 



AUTUMN. 155 



Of unsubmitting spirit, "wise and brave ; 

Who £till thro' bleeding ages struggled hard, 

(As well unhappy Wallace can attest. 

Great patriot hero ! ill-requited chief!) 

To hold a generous undiminished state ; 900 

Too much in vain ! Hence of unequal bounds 

Impatient, and by tempting glory borne 

0*er every land ; for every land their life 

Has flow'd profuse, their piercing genius plann'd. 

And sweird the pomp of peace their faithful toih 905 

As from theif 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 placM, 
Of blessing thousands, thousands yet unborn, 910 
Thro* late posterity ? some, large of soul. 
To cheer dejected industry ? to give 
A double harvest to the pining swain ? 
And teach the laboring hand the sweets of toil ? 
How, by the finest art, the native robe 915 

To weave ; how, white as hyperborean snow. 
To form the lucid lawn ; with venturous oar 
How to dash wide the billow ; nor look on. 
Shamefully passive, while Batavian fleets 
Defraud us of the glittering finny swarms, 920 

That heave our friths, and crowd upon our shores ? 
How alUenlivening trade to rouse, and wing 

X 2 



ts6 AUTUMN. 



The prosperous sail, from every growing port, 
UninjurM, round the sea^encircled globe j 
And thus, in soul united as in name, 925 

Bid Britain reign the mistress of the deep? 

Yes, there are such. And full on thee, Argyll, 
Her hope, her stay, her darling, and her boast. 
From her first patriots and her heroes sprung. 
Thy fond imploring Country turns her eye; •. 930 

In thee, with all a mother's triumph, sees 
Jier every virtue, every grace combined; 
Her genius, wisdom, her engaging turn ; 
Her pride of honour, and her courage try'd. 
Calm, and intrepid, in the very throat 935 

Of sulphurous war, on Tenier's dreadful field. 
JNpr less the palm of peace inwreaths thy brow 5 
For, powerful as thy sword, from thy rich tongue 
Persuasion flows, and wins the high debate; 
While mixM in thee combine the charm of youth, 94a. 
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 thro* her reviving arts, 945 

Planned by thy wisdom, by thy soul informed ; 
And seldom has she known a friend like thee. 

But see the fading many-colour'd woods. 
Shade deepening oyer shade, the country rouud 



AUTUMN. 157 



Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun, 950 
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. 

M£AN-TiM£, light-shadowing all, a sober calm 955 
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 thro* their lucid veil his softened force 960 

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; 965 
To soothe the throbbing passions into peace; 
And woo lone Quiet in her silent walks. 

Thus solitary, and in pensive guis^f 
Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead. 
And thro* the saddened grove, where scarce is heard 
One dying strain, to cheer the woodman's toil. 971 
Haply some widowed songster pours his plaint. 
Far, in faint warblings, thro' the tawny copse. 
While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks. 
And each wild throat, whose artless strains so late 975 
6 weird all the music of th^ ^warming shades. 



x;8 AUTUMN. 

Robb'd of their tuneful souls, now shivering sit 

On the dead tree, a full despondent flock ; 

With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes. 

And nought save chattering discord in their note* 983 

O let not, aim'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. 985 

The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, 
A gentler mood inspires ; for now the leaf 
Incessant rustles from the mournful grove; 
Oft startling such as, studious, walk below. 
And slowly circles thro' the waving air, ggm 

But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs 
Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams ; 
Till choak'd, and matted with the dreary shower. 
The forest-walks, at every rising gale. 
Roll wide the withered waste, and whistle bleak. 995 
Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields j 
And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race 
Their sunny robes resign. Ev*n what remained 
Of stronger fruits, falls from the naked tree ; 
And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around 1000 
The desolated prospect thrills the soul. 

He comes! he comes ! in every breeze the Power 
Of Philosophic Melancholy comes 5 



AUTUMN. iS9 

I. " ' . " ■ ' ' ■'■■ - -1 =3 

His near approach the sudden-stardng tear. 
The glowing cheek, the mild dejected air, 1005 

The softened feature, and the beating heart, 
Fierc'd deep with many a virtuous pang, declare. 
O'er all the soul his sacred influence breathes ! 
Inflames imagination ; thro' the breast 
Infuses every tenderness ; and far loio 

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, 1015 

As varied, and as high. Devotion rais'd 
To rapture, and divine astonishment ; 
The love of Nature unconfin'd, and, chief. 
Of human ra'ce ; the large ambitious wish. 
To make them blest ; the sigh for suflfering worth loao 
" Lost in obscurity j the noble scorn 
Of tyrant-pride J the fearless great resolve; 
The wonder which the dying patriot draws. 
Inspiring glory thro' remotest time ; 
Th' awakened throb for virtue, and for fena^ ; 1025 
The sympathies of love, and friendship dear; 
With all the social Offspring of the heart. 

Oh bear me then to vast embowering shades, 
To twilight groves, and visionary vales ; 
To weeping grottoes, and prophetic glooms j 1030 



i«6 A ly T U M Nl 



Where angel-forms athwart the solemn dusk. 
Tremendous sweep, or seem to sweep along ; 
And voices more than human, thro' the void 
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 1036 

Preside, which shining thro* the cheerful land 
In countless numbers blest Britannia sees; 
O lead me to the wide-extended walks. 
The fair majestic paradise of Stowe! 1040 

Not 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. 1045 

And there, O Pitt ! thy country's early boast^ 
There let me sit beneath the shelter'd flopes. 
Or in that Temple where, in future times, 
^rhou well shalt merit a distinguish'd name ; 
And, with thy converse blest, catch the last smiles 1050 
Of Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods. 
While there with thee th' inchanted round I walk. 
The regulated wild ; gay Fancy then 
Will tread in thought the groves of Attic Land j 
Will from thy standard taste refine her own, 1055 
Correct her pencil to the purest truth 
Of Nature, or, the unimpassion'd shades 



AUTUMN. t6t 

t*otsaking, raise it to the human mind. 

Or if hereafter she, with juster hand, 

Shall draw the tragic scene, instruct her thod, io6a 

To mark the varied movements of the heart. 

What every decent character requires. 

And every passion speaks : O thro* her strain 

Breathe thy pathetic eloquence ! that moulds 

Th* attentive senate, charms, persuades, exalts; 1065 

Of honest zeal th* indignant lightning throws, 

And shakes corruption on her venal throne* 

• While thus we talk, and thro* Elysian Vales 

Delighted rove, perhaps a sigh, escapes: 

What pity, Cobham, thou thy verdant files 107a 

Of ordered 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; 1075 

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 vet*ran skill. 

The western sun withdraws the shortened day ; 
And humid evening, gliding o*er the sky, lo^i 

In her chill progress, to the ground condens*d 
The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooze. 
Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind, 

Y 



Ife AUTUMN. 



Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along 1085 

The dusky-mantled lawn. Mean-while the moon 
FulUorbM, and breaking thro* the scattered clouds. 
Shews her broad visage in the crimson'd east ; 
Turn'd to the sun direct, her spotted disk. 
Where mountains rise, umbrageous dales descend. 
And caverns deep, as optic tube descries, 1091 

A smaller earth, gives us his blaze again. 
Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day. 
Now thro' the passing cloud she seems to stoop. 
Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime. 1095 

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. 1100 

But when half blotted from the sky her light, 
Fainting, permits the starry fires to burn 
With keener lustre thro* the depth of heaven ; 
Or near extinct her deadened orb appears. 
And scarce appears, of sickly beamless white; 11 05 
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 heavert, and all at once 
Relapsing quick, as quickly reascend, 1 1 10 

And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew. 
All ether coursing in a maze of light. 



AUTUMN. t53 



From look to look, contagious thro' the crowd. 
The panic runs, and into wondrous shapes 
Th* appearance throws : armies in meet array, 1 1 1 j 
Thronged with aerial spears, and steeds of fire ; 
Till the long lines of full-extended war 
{u bleeding fight commixt, the sanguine flood 
Rolls a broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven. 
As thus they scan the visionary scene, 1 120 

On all sides swells the superstitious din, 
Incontinent ; and busy frenzy talks 
Of blood and battle; cities overturned; 
And late at night in swallowing earthquake sunk. 
Or hideous wrapt in fierce ascending flame; 11 25 

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, 1130 

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. 1 135 

Now black, and deep, the night begins to fall, 
A shade immense ! Sunk in the quenching gloom,^ 
Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth, 
prder confounded lies ; all beauty void i 

V3 



i64 AUTUMN, 



Distinction lost ; and gay variety 1 140 

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 thro' the dark. 

Full of pale fancies, and chimeras huge; 1145 

Nor visited by one directive ray, 

From cottage streaming, or from airy hall. 

Perhaps impatient as he stumbles on. 

Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue. 

The wild-fire scatters round; or gathered trails 1150 

A length of flame deceitful o'er the moss : 

Whither decoy'd by the fantastic blaze. 

Now lost and now renewed, he sinks absorpt. 

Rider and horae, amid the miry gulph ; 

While still, from day to day, his pining wife, 1155 

And plaintive children, his return await. 

In wild conjecture lost. At pther times, 

Sent by the better Genius of the night. 

Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane. 

The meteor sits ; and shews the narrow pathj,, 1 160 

That winding leads thro' pits of death, or else 

Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford. 

The lengthened night elaps'd, the morning shines 
Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright ; 
Unfolding fair the last autumnal day. 1165 

And now the mounting sun dispels the fog j 



AUTUMN. t6s 



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 1 1 70 
Lies the still heaving hive ! at evening snatched, 
3eneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, 
And fixM o^er sulphur: while, not dreaming ill. 
The happy people, in their waxen cells. 
Sat tending public cares, ^d planning schemes 1 175 
Of temperance, for Winter poor ; rejoicM 
To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores. 
Sudden the dark oppressivie steam ascends ; 
And, us'd to milder scents, the tender race, 
3y thousands, tumble from their honeyed (domes. 
Convolved, and agonizing in the dust. 1 181 

And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring, 
Intent from flower to flower f for this you toil'd 
Ceaseless the burning Summer-heats away ? 
For this in Autumn searched the blooming waste, 1 1 85 
Nor lost one sunny gleam, fqr this ss^d fate ? 
O Man ! tyrannic lord ! how Iqng, how long. 
Shall prostrate Nature groan beneath your rage. 
Awaiting renovation ? When obliged, 
Must you destroy? Of their ambrosial food 11 90 

Can you not borrow j and, in just return. 
Afford them shelter from the wintry winds? 
Or,^ as the sharp year pinches, with their own 



i66 AUTUMN. 



Again regale them on some smiling day ? 

See where the stony bottom of their town 1195 

Looks desolate, and wild ; with here and there 

A helpless number, who the ruin'd state 

Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. 

Thus a proud city, populous and rich. 

Full of the works of peace, and high in joy; 1200 

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-involvM, 

Into a gulph of blue sulphureous flame. 1205 

Hence every harsher sight! for now the day. 
O'er heaven and earth diffused, grows warm, and high j 
Infinite splendour ! wide investing all. 
How still the breeze ! save what the filmy thread 
Of dew evaporate brushes from the plain. 12 10 

How clear the cloudless sky ! how deeply ting'd 
With a peculiar blue ! the ethereal arch 
How sweird immense ! amid whose azure thronM 
The radiant sun how gay ! how calm below 
The gilded earth ! the harvest-treasures all 1215 . 

Now gathered in, beyond the rage of storms. 
Sure to the swain; the circling fence shut up j 
And instant Winter's utmost rage defy*d. 
While, loose to festive joy, the country round 
Laughs with the loud siacerity gf mirth, 1220 



AUTUMN. t6y 



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, 
Toung, buxom, warm, in native beauty rich, 1225 
Darts not-unmeaning looks ; and, where her eye 
Points an approving smile, with double force, 
The cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines* 
Age too shine^ out ; and, garrulous^ recounts 
The feats of youth. Thus they rejoice j nor think 
That, with to-morrow's sun, their annual toil 1231 
Begins again the never-ceasing round. 

Oh knew he but his happiness, of Men 
The happiest he ! who far from public rage. 
Deep in the vale, with a choice Few retired, ^235 

Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life. 
What tho* 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 tho' the glittering robe, 1240 
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 tho% from utmost land and sea purveyed. 
For him each rarer tributary life 1 245 

Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps 
With luxury, and death ? What tho* his bowl 
Flames not with costly juice ; nor sunk in beds. 



i68 A tJ T U M N4 

t' f '■■■' :■ :"■'■■ ■■ .. ■ == 



Oft of gay care, he tosses out the night. 
Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state? 1250 

What tho* he knows not those fantastic jdys. 
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, estranged 1255 

To disappointment, and fallacious hope i 
Rich in conteitit, in Nature's bounty rich^ 
In herbs and fruits ; whatever gteens 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 1261 

Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap : 
These are not wanting ; nor the milky dfove, 
Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale ; 
Nor bleating mountains ; nor the chide of streams. 
And hum of be^, inviting sleep sincere 1266 

Into the guiltless breast, beneath the shade. 
Or thrown at large amid the fragrant hay ; 
Nor ought besides of prospect, grove, or song. 
Dim grottoes, gleaming lakes, and fountain clear. 127a 
Here too dwells simple truth ; plain innocencie ; 
Unsullied beauty ; sound unbroken youth. 
Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd ; 
Health ever blooming ; unambitious toil ; ' 
Calm contemplation, and poetic ease. ^^75 

Let others brave the flood in quest of gain. 



AUTUMN. 



i^ 



moi 



X989 



1985 




And bci^3 for joyless months, the gloomy wave. 
]bet such as deem it glory to destroy. 
Rush into blood, ihie sacjk of cities so^ ; 
Unpierc'd, eitculting in the widow's wail. 
The virgin's shri^ aa4 infant's trembling cty, 
I^T some, far cti$t.ant from their nftdvi^ soil, 
Urg'd or by wa&t or hardened avarice, 
find other lapds beneath another sun. 
Let this thro' cities work his eager way. 
By legal outrage and e&tablish'd guile, 
The social sense extinct; a^d that ferment 
Mad into tumult the seditious herd^ 
Or melt {hem down to slavery. Let these 
Insnare the wretcl^ed in the toils of law, 
Fomenting discord, a|&d perplexing right. 
An iron race ! and those of jfairer .&ont^ 
B}it ^ual inhumanity, in courts. 
Delusive pomp, a^d dark cabals, delight ; 
Wreathe the deep bow, diffuse the lying smile. 
And tread the w-eary labyrinth of state. 
While he, from all the stormy ps^ssions 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 lutions, and the crush of states, 1391 
Move not the Man, who, from the world escap'd, 
I9 vStUl retreats, and flowery sqlitudes, 

z 



1299 



^^95 



1^ A D T U M l^. 



To Nature's voice attends, from month to month. 
And day to day, thro* the revolving year j i J05 

Admiring, sees her in her every shape ; 
Fetls all her sweet emotions at his heart ; 
Takes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more. 
He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gennes, 
Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale 13 10 
Into his freshened soul ; her genial hours 
He full enjoys ; and not a beauty blows, 
And not an opening blossom breathes in vain. 
In Summer he, beneath the living shade^ 
Such as o'er frigid Tempe wont to wave, 13 15 

Or Hemus cobl, reads what the Muse, of these 
Perhaps, has in immortal numbers sung; 
Or what she dictates, writes : and, oft an eye 
Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year. 

When Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world, 1320 
And tempts the sickled swain into the field, 
Seiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends 
With gentle throws j and, thro' the tepid gleams 
Deep musing, then he best exerts his song. 
Even Winter wild to him is full of bliss. 1JI5 

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. 1330 



AUTUMN. i7t 



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 ; 1335 

Or in his breast heroic virtue burns. 

yhe: touch of kindred too and love he feels ; 

The modest eye, whose beams on his alone 

Extatic shine ; the little strong embrace 

Of prattling children, twin'd around his neck, 1 340 

And emulous to please him, calling forth 

The fond parental soul. Nor purpose gay, 

Amtisement, danc-e, or song, he sternly scorns j 

For happiness and true philosophy 

Are of the social still, and smiling kind. 1345 

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 ! 1350 

Enrich me with the knowledge of thy works ! 
Snatch me to heaven ; thy rolling wonders ttiercji 
World beyond world, in infinite extent. 
Profusely scattered o'er the blue immense,. 
Shew me ; ijieir motions, periods, and their law^. 
Give me to scan ; thro' the disclosing deep . 13 j;5 
JLight my blind way : the mineral strata there j 
Thrust, blooming, thence the vegetable world i 

z 2 



IT! 



AUTUMN. 



0*er that the rising system, more complex. 

Of ammals; aad higher still, the caind, 1360 

The varied scene of quick-compounded thought. 

And where the mixing passions endless shift ; 

These ever open to my ravish'd eyej 

A search, the flight of time can ne'er exhaust. 

But if to that unequal; if the blood, ^3^5 

In sluggish gtreams 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 oil Thee, with Th£e conclude my songj 
And let mc never never stray from Thee. 1371 




WINTER. 



BOOK THE FOURTH. 




THK SHEFHEaiDS CAMK. 



/*^f/f////fif/ /ty ^l,//f!,'fitf/*ti^ tittfrth-ifyl'f Itttt < Irf/-' fhi/uTft Dir*", triiVi. 




WINTER. 



BOOK THE FOURTH, 



Now drooping Nature sickens and decty9» 
While Winter all his ftnawy stores display a» 

CEE, WtKTER comes, to rule the varied year. 

Sullen and sad, with all his rising train; 
Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms, Be thesejny theme; 
These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought. 



176 WINTER. 



And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms! 5 
Congenial horrors^ hail! with frequent foot, 
Elea»'d.bave I, in my.cheerful mom of life. 
When nurs-d:by careless solitude I livM, 
And sung of Nature with unceasing joy, 
Fleas'd have I wandered thro' your rough domain; 10 
Trod the pure virgin-snows, myself as pure ; 
Heai4 the winds roar, and the big torrent burst ; 
Or wax the deep fermenting tempest brew'd. 
In the grim evening sky. Thus pass'd the time. 
Til) thro' the lucid chambers of the south 15 

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 : 
Skim'd the gay Spring; on eagle-pinions borne, 20 
Attempted thro' the Summer-blaze to rise ; 
Then swept o'er Autumn with the shadowy gale j 
And now among the wintry clouds again^ 
RoU'd in the doubling storm, she tries to soar; 
To swell her note with all the rushing winds ; 25 

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, 30 
And how to make a mighty people thrive ; 



WINTER. 177 



But equal goodness, sound integrity, 

A jfirm unshaken uncorrupted soul 

Amid a sliding age, and burning strongs 

Not vainly blazing for the country's weal, is 

A steady spirit regularly free j 

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 dates not flattery call. 40 

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 farthest verge of heaven, the sun 
Scarce spreads thro' ether the dejected day. 45 

Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot 
His struggling rays, in horizontal lines. 
Thro' the thick air } as cloth'd in cloudy storm. 
Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky j 
And, soon-descending, to the long dark night, 50 
Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns. 
Nor is the night unwish'd j while vital heat. 
Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forsake. 
Mean-time, in sable cincture, shadows vast, 
Deep-ting'd and damp, and congregated clouds, ^5 
And all the vapoury turbulence of heaven. 
Involve the face of things. Thus Winter falls, 
A heavy gloom oppressive o'er the world j 

A A 



i^9 W I M T E IL 

Thro* Nature shedding influence malign^ 

And rouses up the seeds of d&rk dis^se^ ^ 

The soul of Man dies in him, loathing life^ 
And black with more than melancholy views. 
The cattle droop j and o'er the furrowed land 
Fresh from the plough^ the dun discoloarM floob^ 
Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root* 65 
Along the woods, along the moorish fens^ 
Sighs the sad Gemus of the coming storm ) 
And up among the loose disjointed cllflfb. 
And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawltUg btook 
And cave, presageful, send a holloa moan^ 7^ 

Resounding loi^ in listening Fancy's ear. 

Then comes the father of the tempest forth^ 
Wrapt in black glooms. Rrst joyless rains obsdd^ 
Drive thro' the mingling skies with vapour foul ; 
Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the W0b3s, 
That grumbling wave below. The unsightly plain 7S 
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, 80 
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, 85 



WINTER. 179 



Or ruminate in the contiguous shade. 
Thither the household feathery people crowds 
The crested cock^ with aU his female train, 
Pensive, and dripping; while the cottage-hind 
Hangs o'er th' enlivening blaze, and taleful there 90 
Recounts his simple frolic : much he talks. 
And much he laughs; nor recks the storm that blpw^ 
Without, and rattles on his humble roof. 

Wide o'er the brim, with many a torrent swellM, 
And the mixM ruin of its banks o -erspread^ 95 

At last the rousM-up river pours along ; 
Resistless, roaring, dreadful, down it comes, 
From the rude mountain, and the mossy wild. 
Tumbling thro' rocks abrupt, and sounding far ; 
Then o'er the sanded valley floating spreads, 100 

Calm, sluggish, silent ; till again, constraint 
Between two meeting hills, it bursts away. 
Where rocks and woods o'crhang the turbid stream ; 
There gathering triple force, rapid, and deep, 104 
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 ! 
That sees astonish'd ! and astonish'd sings ! no 

Ye too, ye winds ! that now begin to blow. 
With bdsterous sweep, I raise my voice to you, 

A A 2 



i8o W I N T E IL 



Where are your stores, ye powerful beings! say, 

Where your aerial magazines reservM, 

To swell the brooding terrors of the storm ? 115 

In what far distant region of the sky, 

Hush'd in deep silence, sleep ye when 't is 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 120 

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, 12^ 

Seen thro' the turbid fluctuating air. 
The stars obtuse emit a shiver'd ray j 
Or frequent seem to shoot athwart the gloom, 
And long behind them trail the whitening blaze* 
Sn^tch'd in short eddies, plays the withered leaf j 13a. 
And on the flood the dancing feather floats. 
With broadened 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, 135 

The wasted taper and the crackling flame 
Fgretell the blast. But chief the plumy race, 
The tenants of the sky, its changes speak. 
' RETiaiNG from the downs, where all day long 



WINTER. 181 



They pick'd their scanty fare, a blackening train 140 

Of clamorous rooks thick-urge their weary flight. 

And seek the closing shelter of the grove. 

As^siduous, in his bower, the wailing owl 

piies his sad song. The cormorant on high 144 

Wheels from the deep, and screams along the land. 

Loud shrieks die soaring hernj and with wild wing 

The circling sea-fowl cleave the flaky clouds. 

Qcean, unequal pressed, with broken tide 

And blind commotion heaves; while from the shore. 

Eat into caverns by the restless wave, 1501 

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 jur, 

Down, in a torrent. On the passive main 155 

Descends th* ethereal force, and with strong gust 

Turns from its bottom the discoloured deep. 

Thro' the bl^k night that sits immense around, 

Lash'd into foam, the fierce conflicting brine 

Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn : i6<$ 

Mean-time the mountain-billows, to the clouds 

In dreadful tumult swellM, surge above surge^ 

Burst into chaos with tremendous roar. 

And anchored navies from their stations drive, 

IVild as the winds across the howling waste 165 

Pf mighty waters : now th' inflated wave 



iti WINTER. 



Straining they scale, and now impetuoua shoot 

Into the secret chambers of the deep. 

The wintry Baltic thundering o'er thdr head. 

Emerging thence again, before the breath 170 

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 land the loosened tempest reigns. 175 
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-fairing stranger breathless toils. 
And, often falling, climbs against the blast« i8q 

Low waves the rooted forest, vex'd, and sheda 
What of its tarnishM honours yet remain j 
Dash'd down, and scattered, by the tearing wind's 
Assiduous fury, its gigantic limbs. 
Thus struggling thro' the dissipated grove, 1S5 

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. 190 

Then too, they say, thro' all the burtfaen'd air. 
Long groans are heard, shrill sounds, and distant sigh;. 
That, utter'd by the Demon of the night. 



WINTER. tSs 



Wnm thie dcwtod wretch of woe and death. 

Huge uproar lords it wide. The clouds commix'd 
With stats ewift gliding sweep along the sky. 196 
All Nature reels. Till Nature's Km©, who oft 
Ainid ten^stuous darkness dwells alone. 
And on the wings of the careering wind 
Walks dreadfully serene, commands a calm; 200 

Then straight air, sea, and earth, are hush'd at once. 

As yet 't is midnight deep. The weary clouds. 
Slow-meeting, mingle into solid gloom. 
Now, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleqp. 
Let me associate with the serious Night, 205 

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 ! 2 to 

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, 215 

With new-flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round. 

Father of light and life, thou Good supreme 1 
O teach me what is good ! teach me Thyself ! 
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice. 
From every low pursuit i and feed my soul 220 



tP4 WINTER; 



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 225 
A vapoury deluge lies, to snow congeal'd- 
Heavy they roll their fleecy world along j 
And the sky saddens with the gathered storms 
Thro* the hush'd air the whitening shower descends. 
At first thin wavering ; till at last the flakes 23a 

Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day. 
With a continual flow. The cherishM fields 
Put on their winter-robe of purest white. 

^Tis brightness all ; save where the new snow melts 
Along the mazy current. Low, the woods 235 

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 240 
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, 245 
The red-breast, sacred to the household gods. 
Wisely regardful of th' embroiling sky, 



WINTER. 185 



In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves 

His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Man 

His annual visit. Half-afraid, he first 130 

Against the window beats ; then, brisk, alights 

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

£yes all the smiling family askance, 

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

Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs 255 

Attract his slender feet. The foodless wilds 

Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The hare, 

ITm)' timorous of heart, and hard beset 

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

And more unpitying Men, the garden seeks, 26a 

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 dispersed. 

Dig for the withered herb thro* heaps of snow. 

Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kindf 
Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens 266 

With food at will ; lo^e them below the storm. 
And watch them strict : for from the bellowing east. 
In this dire season, oft the whirlwind^s wing 
Sweeps up the burthen of whole wintry plains 273 
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 shimng mountain swdls, 

B B 



\ 



i96 WINTER. 



Tipt with a wreath high-curling in the sky. ajg 

As thus the snows arise ; and foul, and fierce. 
All Winter drives along the darkened air j 
In his own loose-ievolving fields, the swain 
Disaster'd stands ; sees other hills ascend. 
Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes, 280 
Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain : 
Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid 
Beneath the formless wild ; but wanders on 
From hill to dale, still more and more astray ; 
Impatient flouncing thro* the drifted heaps, 285 

Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home 
Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth 
In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul ! 
What black despair, what horror fills his heart ! 
When for the dusky spot, which fancy feignM 290 
His tufted cottage rising thro* the snow. 
He meets the roughness of the middle waste. 
Far from the track, and blest abode of Man; 
While round him night resistless closes fast. 
And every tempest, howling o'er his head, 295 

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, 30a 

Smoothed up with snow; and, what is land, unknown^ 



WINTER. 187 



What water, of the still unfrozen spring, 

Iq the loose marsh or solitary lake. 

Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils. 

These check his fearful steps; and down he sinks 305 

Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift. 

Thinking o*er all the bitterness of death; 

MixM with the tender anguish Nature shoots 

Thro* the wrung bosom of the dying Man, 

His wife, his children, and his friends unseen. 310 

In vain for him th* officious wife prepares 
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! 315 

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 stiffened corse; 320 

Stretched 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; 325 

Ah little think they, while they dance along, 
flow many feel, this very moment, death, 
^nd all the sad variety of pain. 

B B :; 



i8S WINTER. 



How many sink in the deYOuring flood. 

Or more devouring flame. How many bleed, 33a 

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 335 

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; 34a 

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 345 

In deep retired distress. How many stand 

Around the death-bed of their dearest friends. 

And point the parting anguish. Thought fond Man 

Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills. 

That one incessant struggle render life, 350 

One scene of toil, of suffering and of fate; 

Vice in his high career would (land appall'd. 

And heedless rambling Impulse learn to think; 

The conscious heart of Charity would warm. 

And her wide wish Benevolence dilate; 355 



WINTER. 189 



The social tear would rise, the social sigh ; 
And into clear perfe£lion» gradual bliss. 
Refining still, the social passions work. 

And here can I forget the generous band. 
Who, touched with human woe, redrcssive search'd 
Into the horrors of the gloomy jail? 361 

Unpitied, and unheard, where misery moans; 
Where sickness pines; where thirft and hunger bum. 
And poor misfortune feels the lash of vice. 
While in the land of liberty, the land 365 

Whose every street and public meeting glow 
With open freedom, little tyrants rag'd; 
Snatch'd the lean morsel from the starving mouth ; 
Tore from cold wintry limbs the tatter *d weed; 
Ev*n robb'd them of the last of comforts, sleep; 370 
The free-bom Briton to the dungeon chain'd. 
Or, as the lust of cruelty prevailed. 
At pleasure mark'd him with inglorious stripes ; 
And cmsh'd out lives, by secret barbarous ways. 
That for their country would have toil'd, or bled. 375 
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, 38a 
And bid the cruel feel the pains they give. 

Much still untouched remains; in this, rank age. 



I90 W I N T E R: 



Much is the patriot's weeding hand required. 

The toils of law, (what dark infidious Men 

Have cumbrous added to perplex the truth, 385 

And lengthen simple justice into trade) 

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, 39a 
And wavy Appenine, 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 ; 395 
And, pouring o'er the country, bear along. 
Keen as the north-wind sweeps the glossy snow. 
All is their prize. They fasten on the steed. 
Press him to earth, and pierce his mighty heart. 
Nor can the bull his awful front defend, 400 

Or shake the murdering savages away. 
Rapacious, at the mother's throat they fly. 
And tear the screaming infant from her breast. 
The godlike face of Man avails him nought. 
Ev'n beauty, force divine! at whose bright glance 405 
The generous lion stands in softened gaze. 
Here bleeds, a hapless undistinguished prey. 
But if, apprized of the severe attack. 
The country be shut up ; lur*d by the scent. 



WINTER. 191 



On church-yards drear (inhuman to relate!) 410 

The disappointed prowlers fall, and dig 
The shrouded body from the grave; o'er which, 
MixM with foul shades, and frighted ghosts, they howl. 

Among those hilly regions, where embracM 
In peaceful vales the happy Grisops dwell; 415 

Oft, rushing sudden from the loaded cliffs. 
Mountains of snow their gathering terrors roll. 
From steep to steep, loud-thundering down they come, 
A wintry waste in dire commotion all; 
And herds, and flocks, and travellers, and swains, 420 
And sometimes whole brigades of marching troops. 
Or hamlets sleeping in the dead of night. 
Are deep beneath the smothering ruin whelm'd. 

Now, all amid the rigours of the year. 
In the wild depth of Winter, while without 425 

The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat. 
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 430 

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 blest mankind 
With arts, with arms, and humanized a world. 435 
Rous'd at th' inspiring thought, I throw aside 



i^ WINTER. 



The long-fivM volume ; and, deep-musing, hail 

The sacred shades, that slowly-rising pass 

Before my wondering eyes. First Socratbs, 

Who, firmly good in a corrupted state, 440 

Against the rage of tyrants ^ngle 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 ! 445 

Solon the next ; who built his common-weal 

On equity's wide base; by tender laws 

A lively people curbing, yet undamp'd j 

Preserving still that quick peculiar fire. 

Whence in the laurel'd field of finer arts, 450 

And of bold freedom, they unequal'd shone; 

The pride of smiling Greece, and human-kind. 

Lycurgus then, who bow'd beneath the force 

Of strictest discipline, severely wise. 

All human passions. Following him, I see, 455 

As at Thermopylae he glorious fell, 

The firm devoted Chief, who provM by deeds 

The hardest lesson which the other taught. 

Then Aristides lifts his honest front; 

Spotless of heart, to whom th* unflattering voice 460 

Of freedom gave the noblest name of Just; 

In pure majestic poverty reverM ; 

Who, ev'n his glory to his country's weal 



WINTER. 193 



Submitting, swelPd a haughty Rival's fame. 
Rear'd by his care, of softer ray appears 465 

CiMON sweet-soul'd ; 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. 47a 

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 Wed. 475^ 
And, equal to the best, the THEBAN-l^Airf, 
Whose virtues, in hercHc concc^^ififd. 
Their country raisM to freedom, empire, fame. 
He too, with whom Athenian honour sunk. 
And left a mass of sordid lees behind, 489 

Phocion the Good; in public life revert i 
To virtue still inexorably firm ; 
But when, beneath his low illustrious ro<^. 
Sweet peace and happy wisdom smooth'd his brow. 
Not friendship softer was, nor love more kind. 485 
And he, the last of old Lycurgus' sons. 
The generous vi£Um to that vain attempt. 
To save a rotten State, Aois, who saw 
Ev'n Sparta's self to servile avarice sunk. 
The two Achaian heroes close the train ; 490 

c c 



194 WINTER. 



Aratus, who a while relumM the soul 
Of fondly-lingering liberty in Greece : 
And he her darling as her latest, hope. 
The gallant Philopoemen ; who to arms 
Tum'd the luxurious pomp he could not cure; 495 
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 500 
Their dearest country they too fondly lov'd: 
Her better founder first, the light of Rome, 
NuMA, who soften'd her rapacious sons: 
Servius the King, who laid the solid base 
On which o'er earth the vast republic spread. 505 
Then the great consuls venerable rise. 
The Public Father who the Private quelPd, 
As on the dread tribunal sternly sad. 
He, whom this thankless country could not lose, 
Camillus, only vengeful to her foes. 510 

Fabricius, scomer of all-conquering gold ; 
And CiNciNNATus, 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 515 

Imperious called, and honour's dire command. 
Scipio, the gentle chief, humanely brave; 



WINTER. 195 



Who soon the race of spotless glory ran, 
And, warm in youth, to the Poetic shade 
"With Friendship and Philosophy retir'd. 520 

TuLLY, whose powerful eloquence a while 
Restrained the rapid fate of rushing Rome. 
Unconquer'd Cato, virtuous in extreme. 
And thou, unhappy Brutus, kind of heart; 
Whose steady arm, by awful virtue urgM, 525 

Lifted the Roman steel against thy Friend. 
Thousands besides, the tribute of a verse 
Demand; but who can count the stars of heaven P 
Who sing their influence on this lower world? 

Behold, who yonder comes! in sober state, 530 
Fair, mild, and strong, as is a vernal sun : 
*T is 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. 536 

Nor absent are those shades, whose skilful touch 
Pathetic drew th* impassioned heart, and charmed 
Transported Athens with the moral scene : 
Nor those who, tuneful, wakM th' enchanting lyre. 

First of your kind ! society divine ! 541 

Still visit thus my nights, for you reserved. 
And mount my soaring soul to thoughts like yours. 
Silence, thou lonely power! the door be thine j • 

e c 2 



J96 WINTER. 



See on the hallowed hour that none intrude, 545 

Save a few chosen friends, who sometimes deign 

To bless my humble roof, with sense refin'd. 

Learning digested well, exalted faith, 

Unstudy'd wit, and humour ever gay. 

Or from the Muses* hill with Pope descend, 550 

To raise the sacred hour, to bid it smile. 

And with the social spirit warm the heart : 

For tho' not sweeter his own Hom£R sings. 

Yet is his life the more endearing song. 

Wh£R£ art thou, Hammoi^d ? thou the darling pride. 
The friend and lover of the tuneful throng ! 556 

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? 560 
What now avails that noble thirst of £aime. 
Which stung thy fervent breast ? that treasured store 
Qf knowledge, ^arly gain'd ? that eager zeal 
To serve thy country, glowing in the band 
Of YOUTHFUL Patriots, who sustain her name? 
What now, alas! that life-diflfusing charm 566 

OjF sprightly wit ? that rapture for the Muse, 
That heart of friendship, and that soul of joy. 
Which bade with softest light thy virtues smile ? 
Ah! only shew'd, to check our fond pursuits, sj^ 
And teach our humbled hopes that ii& is vain! 



WI NT E 1. 



197 



Thus in some deep retirement would I pass 
The winter-glooms, with friends of pliant souI> 
Or blithe, or solemn, as the theme iqspir'd : 
With diem would search, if Natuve's boundless frame 
Was call'd, late-rising from the void of night, 576' 
Or sprung eternal from th' eternal Mind } 
It^ life, its laws, its progress, and its end. 
Hence larger prospects of the beauteous whole 
Would, gradual, open on our opening minds ; 580 
And each diflfusive harmony unite 
In full perfection, to th* astonished eye. 
Then would we try to scan the moral World, 
Which, tho' to us it seems embroll'd, moves on 
In higher order ; fitted, and impelled, 585 

By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all 
In general Good. The sage historic Muse 
Should next conduct us thro' the deeps of time: 
Shew us how empire grew, declin'd, and fell. 
In scatter'd states ; what makes the nations smile; 590 
Improves their soil, and gives them double suns; 
And why they pine beneath the brightest skies. 
In Nature's richest lap. As thus we talk'd. 
Our hearts would burn within us, would inhale 
That portion of divinity, that ray 595 

Of purest heaven, which lights the publfa: soul 
Of patriots, and of heroes. But if dobm'd. 
In powerless humble fortune, to repress 



,98 WINTER. 



These ardent risings of the kindling soul j 

Then, ev'n superior to ambition, we 600 

Would learn the private virtues; how to glide 

Thro' shades and plains, along the smoothest stream 

Of rural life: or snatch'd away by hope. 

Thro* the dim spaces of futurity. 

With earnest eye anticipate those scenes 6a$ 

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 610 

Of frolic fancy; and incessant form 

Those rapid pictures, that assembled train 

Of fleet ideas, never joinM before; 

Whence lively Wit excites to gay surprise ; 

Or folly-painting Humour, grave himself, 615 

Calls Laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve. 

Mean-time 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. 620 

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 pleased ; the long loud laugh, sincere; 
The kiss, snatched hasty from the side-long maid, 625 



W I N T E R, 



199 



On; purpose guardless, or pretending sleep: 
The leap, the slap, the haul; and, shook to notes 
Of native mufic, the respondent dance. 
Thus jocund fleets with them the winter-night. 

The city swarms intense. The public haunt, 630 
Full of each theme, and warm with mix'd discourse. 
Hums indistinct. The sons of riot flow 
Down the loose stream of false inchanted joy. 
To swift destuction. On the rankled soul 
The gaming fiiry falls; and in one gulph, 635 

Of total ruin, honour, virtue, peace. 
Friends, families, and fortune, headlong sink. 
Up-springs the dance along the lighted dome, 
MixM, and evolvM, a thousand sprightly ways. 
The glittering court effuses every pomp; 640 

The circle deepens : beamed from gaudy robes. 
Tapers, and sparkling gems, and radiant eyes, 
A soft effulgence o'er the palace waves : . 
While, a gay insed in his summer-shine. 
The fop, light-fluttering, spreads his mealy wings. 645 

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 650 
Holds to the world a picture of itself. 
And raises sly the fair impartial laugh. 



ao# WINTER. 

Sometimes she lifts her strain, and paints the scenes 

Of beauteous life ; whatever can deck mankind. 

Or charm the heart, in generous Bevil shew'd. 6$$ 

O Thou, whose wisdom, solid yet refined. 
Whose patriot virtues, and consummate skill 
To touch the finer springs that move the world. 
Joined to whatever the Graces can bestow^ 
And all Apollo's animating fire, 660 

Give thee, with pleasing dignity, to shine 
At once the guardian, ornament, and joy. 
Of polishM life ; permit the Rural Muse, 
O Chesterfield! to grace-with thee her song. 
Ere to the shades again she humbly flies, 66$ 

Indulge her fond ambition, in thy train, 
(For every Muse has in thy train a place) 
To mark thy various fuU-accomplish'd mind : 
To mark that spirit, which, with British scorn. 
Rejects th* allurements of corrupted power ; 6^0 

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 pointy 6y$ 
And kind well-temper*d satire, smoothly keen. 
Steals thro' the soul, and without pain correds* 

Or, rising thence with yet a brighter flame» 
O let me hail thee on some glorious day. 



WINTER. 201 



When to the listening senate, ardent, crowd 680 

Britannia's sons to hear her pleaded cause. 
Then drest by thee, more amiably fair. 
Truth the soft robe of mild persuasion wears : 
Thou to assenting reason giv'st again 
Her own enlightened thoughts j call'd from the heart, 
Th' obedient passions on thy voice attend ; 686 

And ev'n reluctant party feels awhile 
Thy gracious power : as thro' the varied maze 
Of eloquence, now smooth, now quick, now strong. 
Profound and clear, you roll the copious flood. 690 
To thy lovM haunt return, my happy Muse : 

For now, behold, the joyous winter-days, 
'Frosty, succeed ; and thro' the blue serene. 

For sight too fine, th' ethereal nitre flies. 

Killing infectious damps, and the spent air 695 

Storing afresh with elemental life. 

Close crowds the shining atmosphere ; and binds 
^.Our strengthened bodies in its cold embrace. 

Constringent ; feeds, and animates our blood; 

Refines our spirits, thro' the new-strung nerves, 700 

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 705 

In ruin seen. The frost-concocted glebe 

D D 



202 WINTER. 



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 71© 

The purer rivers flow j their sullen deeps. 

Transparent, open to the shepherd's gaze, 

And murmur hoarser at the fixing frost. 

What art thou, frost ? and whence are thy keen stores 
Deriv'd, thou secret all-invading power! 715 

Whom ev'n th' illusive fluid cannot fly? ' 
Is not thy potent energy, unseen. 
Myriads of little salts, or hook'd, or shapM 
Like double wedges, and diffused immense 
Thro' water, earth, and ether ? Hence at eve, 720 
Steam'd eager from the red horizon round. 
With the fierce rage of Winter deep suffused. 
An icy gale, oft shifting, o'er the pool 
Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career 
Arrests the bickering stream. The loosened ice, 7125 
Let down the flood, and half dissolved 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, selz'd from shore to rfiore, 730 
The whole imprisoned river growls below. 
Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects 
A double noise j while, at his^ evening watch. 



WINTER. 203 




The village dog deters the nightly thief; 

The heifer lowsj the distant water-fall 735 

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 740 

Of starry glitter, glows from pole to pole. 

From pole to pole the rigid influence falls. 
Thro* the still night, incessant, heavy, strong. 
And seizes Nature fast. It freezes on ; 
Till morn, late rising o'er the drooping world, 745 
Lifts her pale eye unjoyous. Then appears 
The various labour of the silent night : 
Prone from the dripping eave, and dumb cascade. 
Whose idle torrents only seem to roar. 
The pendant icicle; the frost-work fair, 750 

Where transient hues, and fancy'd 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, 755 

Incrusted hard, and sounding to the tread 
Of early shepherd, as he pensive seeks 
His pining flock ; or from the mountain top. 
Pleased with the slippery surface, swift descends. 

On blithsomefrolicks bent, the youthful swains, y6o 
D D 2 



J04 .WINTER. 



While every work of Man is laid at rest. 

Fond o'er the river crowd, in various sport 

And revelry dissolved ; where mixing glad^ 

Happiest of all the train ! the raptur'd bo/ 

Lashes the whirling top. Or, where the Rhine 765 

Branched 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 diflferent.ways. 

In circling poise, swift as the winds, along, "j^jm 

The then gay land is maddened 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. Mean-time, to raise 775 

The manly strife, with highly-blooming charms. 

Flushed 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, 780 

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} 785 

Or from the forest falls the clustered snow. 
Myriads of gems, that in the waving gleam 



WINTER. zos 



Gay.twinkle as they scatter. Thick around 
Thunders the sport of those, who with the giin. 
And dog impatient bounding at the shot, 790 

Worse than the season, desolate the fields ; 
And, adding to the ruins of the year. 
Distress the footed or the feathered game. 

But what is this ? Our infant Winter sinks, 
Divested of his grandeur, should our eye 795 

Astonish'd shoot into the Frigid Zone j 
Where, for relentless months, continual Night 
Holds o'er the glittering waste her starry reign. 

There, thro* the prison of unbounded wilds, 
BarrM by the hand of Nature from escape, 80a 

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 waste. 
Their icy horrors .to the frozen main j 805 

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 human-kind. Yet there life glows ; 
Yet cherish'd there, beneath the shining waste, 810 
The furry nations harbour : tipt with jet. 
Fair ermines, spotless as the snows they press ; 
Sables, of glossy black ; and dark embrown'd, 
Qr beauteous freakt with many a mingled hue^ 



zo6 WINTER. 



Thousands besides, the costly pride of courts. 815 
There, warm together pressed, the trooping deer 
Sleep on the new-fallen snows ; and, scarce his head- 
Rais'd o'er the heapy wreath, the branching elk 
Lies numbering sullen in the white abyss* 
The ruthless hunter wants nor dogs nor toils j 820 
Nor with the dread of sounding bows he drives 
The fearful flying race ; with ponderous clubs. 
As weak against the mountain-heaps they push 
Their beating breast in vain, and piteous bray. 
He lays them quivering on th' ensanguined snows ; 825 
And with loud shouts rejoicing bears them home. 
There thro' the piny forest half-absorpt. 
Rough tenant of these shades, the shapeless bear. 
With dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn; 
Slow-pacM, and sourer as the storms increase, 830 
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, 835 

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, with dreadful sweep 
Resistless rushing o'er th* enfeebled south, 841 



WINTER. 1107 



And gave the vanquished 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, 845 

They love their mountains and enjoy their storms. 
No false desires, no pride-created wants. 
Disturb the peaceful current of their time; 
And thro' the restless evcr-tortur'd maze 
Of pleasure, or ambition, bid it rage. 850 

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. 
Obsequious at their call, the docile tribe 
Yield to the fled their necks, and whirl them swift 85^ 
O'er hill and dale, heapM 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, 860 

And vivid moons, and stars that keener play 
With doubled lustre 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. 865 

Wish'd Spring returns ; and from the hazy souths 
While dim Aurora slowly moves before. 
The welcome sun, just verging up at first. 



to8 WINTER. 



By small degrees extends the swelling curve; 

Till seen at last for gay rejoicing months, 870 

Still round and round, his spiral course he windsj 

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 £airy mountains rise, 857 

And fiing'd with roses Tenglio rolls his stream. 

They draw the copious fry. With these, at eve. 

They cheerftil-loaded to their tents repair j 

Where, all day long in useful cares employed. 

Their kind unblemish'd wives the fire prepare. 880 

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 885 

Of faithless love, their blooming daughters woe. 

Still pressing on, beyond Tornea's lake. 
And Hecla flaming thro' a waste of snow. 
And farthest Greenland, to the pole itself. 
Where, failing gradual, life at length goes out, 890 
The Muse expands her solitary flight ; 
And, hovering o'er the wild stupendous scene. 
Beholds new seas beneath another sky. 
Thron'd in his palace of cerulean ice. 
Here Winter holds his unrejoicing court; 895 



WINTER. ao9 



iJind thro' 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, 900 
With which he now oppresses half the globe. 

Thence winding eastward to the Tartar's coast. 
She sweeps the howling margin of the main; 
Where undissolving, from the first of time. 
Snows swell on snows amazing to the sky; 905 

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, 910 
As if old Chaos was again return'd, 
Wide-rend the deep, and shake the solid pole. 
Ocean itself no longer can resist 
The binding fury; but, in all its rage 
Of tempest taken by the boundless frost, 915 

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! 920 

Who, here entangled in the gathering ice. 
Take their last look of the descending sun; 

£ £ 



no WINTER. 



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, 925 
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 
By jealous Nature with eternal bars. 
In these fell regions, in Arzina caught, 95^ 

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 j to the cordage gluM 
The sailor, and the pilot to the helm. 93^ 

Hard by these shores, wherescarcehis freezingstream 
Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of Men; 
And half enlivened by the distant sun, 
That rears and ripens Man, as well as plants, 
Here human Nature wears its rudest form. 94a 

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, 945 
Beyond the kindred bears that stalk without* 
Till mom at length, her roses drooping all. 
Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their fields. 
And calls the quivered savage to the chase. 



WINTER. 211 



What cannot active government perform, 950 
New-moulding Man? Wide-stretchingfrom these shores, 
A people savage from remotest time, 
A huge neglected empire, one vast Mind, 
By Heaven inspired, from Gothic darkness caird. 
Immortal Peter! first of monarchs! He 955 

His stubborn country tam'd, her rocks, her fens. 
Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting sons; \ 

And while the fierce Barbarian he subduM, \ 

To more exalted soul he rais'd the Man. \ 

Ye shades of ancient heroes! ye who toil'd 96a \ 

Thro' 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 ; 965 

Who greatly spum'd the slothful pomp of courts j 
And roaming every land, in every port 
His sceptre laid aside, with glorious hand 
Unwearied plying the mechanic tool. 
Gathered the seeds of trade, of useful arts, 970 

Of civil wisdom, and of martial skill. 
Charged with the stores of Europe home he goes! 
Then cities rise amid th' illumin'd waste ; 
O'er joyless deserts smiles the rural reign j 
Far-distant flood to flood is social joinMj gy^ 

Th' astonish'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar; 

£ s 2 



Ill WINTER. 



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, 980 

And awing there stern Othman's shrinking sons* 
Sloth flies the land, and Ignorance, and Vice, 
Of old dishonour proud : it glows around, 
Taught by the Royal Hand that rousM the whole. 
One scene of arts, of arms, of rising trade : 98.5 
For what his wisdom plannM, and power enforc*d. 
More potent still, his great example shew'd. 

Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point. 
Blow hollow-blustering from the south. Subdu'd, 
The frost resolves into a trickling thaw. 990 

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; 995 

And, where they rush, the wide-resounding plain 
Is left one slimy waste. Those sullen seas. 
That washM th* ungenial pole, will rest no more 
Beneath the shackles of the mighty north; 
But, rousing all their waves, resistless heave. 1000 
And hark! the lengthening roar continuous runs 
Athwart the rifted deep : at once it bursts. 
And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds» 



WINTER. 2t3 



III fares the bark with trembling wretches charg'd. 
That, tost amid the floating fragments, moors 1005 
Beneath the sheher of an icy isle, 
While night overwhelms the sea, and horror looks 
More horrible. Can human force endure 
Th' assembled mischiefs that besiege them round? 
Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness, lOiD 

The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice, 
Now ceasing, now renewed with louder rage. 
And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. 
More to embroil the deep, Leviathan 
And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, 1015 

Tempest the loosened brine; while thro' the gloom. 
Far, from the bleak inhospitable shore. 
Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl 
Of famish'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks. 
Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye! 102a 

Looks down with pity on the feeble toil 
Of mortals lost to hope; and lights them safe. 
Thro* all this dreary labyrinth of fate. 

'Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms. 
And reigns tremendous o'er the conquered year. 1025 
How dead the vegetable kingdom lies ! 
How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends 
His desolate domain. Behold, fond Man! 
See here thy pictured life; pass some few years. 
Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength. 



914 WINTER. 



Thy sober Autumn fading into agc» 1031 

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? 1035 

Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? 
Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughtsi 
Lost between good and ill, that sharM thy life? 
All now are vanished; Virtue sole-survives. 
Immortal never-failing friend of Man, 1040 

His guide to happiness on high. And see! 
^Tis come, the glorious mom! the second birth 
Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears 
The new-creating word, and starts to life. 
In every heightened form; from pain and death 1045 
For ever free. The great eternal scheme. 
Involving all, and in a perfect whole 
Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads. 
To reason's eye refinM clears up apace. 

Ye vsunly wise! ye blind presumptuous! now, 1056 
Confounded in the dust, adore that Power, 
And Wisdom oft arraigned: see now the causey 
Why unassuming worth in secret liv'd. 
And dy'd, neglected: why the good Man's share 
In life was gall and bitterness of soul: 1055 

Why the lone widow and her orphans pinM 
la starving solitude } while luxury. 



WINTER- 






1060 



In palaces, lay straining her low thought. 
To form unreal wants : why heaven^boTn truths 
And moderation fair, wore the red marks 
Of superstition's scourge; why licens'd pain. 
That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe, 
ImbitterM all our bKss. Ye good distrest! 
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand 
Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up a while. 
And what your bounded view, which only saw 
A little part, deem'd Evil ie no more: 
The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass. 
And one unbounded Spring encircle all. 



1065 




A HYMN. 



These, as they change, Almighty Father ! these. 

Are but the varied God. The rolling year 

h full of Thee. Forth i;i the pleasing Spring 

Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. 

Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm; 5 

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 thro* the svirelling year: 10 

And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks ; 

And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve. 

By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales. 

Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfinM, 

And spreads a common feast for all that lives. 15 

In Winter awful Thou! with clouds and storms 

Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roU'd, 

Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing, 

F F 



iiS A HYMN. 



Riding sublime, Thou bid'st the world adore^ 

And humblest Nature with thy northern blast. 2a 

Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine. 
Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train. 
Yet so delightful mixM, with such kind art. 
Such beauty and beneficence combined ; 
Shade, unperceiv'd, so softening into shade; £5 

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; 30 

Works in the secret deep ; shoots, steaming, thence 
The fair profusion that overspreads 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, 35 
With transport touches all the springs of life. 

Nature, attend! join every living soul. 
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky. 
In adoration join; and, ardent, raise 
One general song! To Him, ye vocal gales, 46 

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, 45 



A H T M N. S19 



Who shake th* astonished 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; 50 

Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze 
Along the vale ; and thou, majestic main, 
A secret world of wonders in thyself, 
Sound His stupendous praise; whofe greater voice 
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. ^^ 

Soft-roll your incense, herbs,andfruits, andflow'rs. 
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, 60 

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. 65 

Great source of day! best image here below 
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide. 
Prom world to world, the vital ocean round; 
On Nature write with every beam His praise. 
The thunder rolls: be hush'd the prostrate world; 70 
While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. 
Bleat out afresh, ye hills: ye mossy rocks^ 

F F 2 



a2o A H Y M N. 



Retain the sound: the broad responsive lowe. 

Ye valleys, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns; 

And his unsuflfering kingdom yet will come. 75 

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. 8q 
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, 85 

At solemn pauses, through the swelling bass ; 
And, as each mingling flame increases each. 
In one united ardour rise to heaven. 
Or if you rather chuse the rural shade. 
And find a fane in every sacred grove ; 90 

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 95 

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* 



A H Y M N. 221 



Should fate command me to the farthest verge i oo 
Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, 
Rivers unknown to songj 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, 105 

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, 
I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, iid 
Will rising wonders sing : I cannot go 
Where Universal Love not smiles around, 
Sustaining all yon orbs and all their sons ; 
From seeming evil still educing good. 
And better thence again, and better still, 115 

In infinite progression. But I lose 
Myself in Him, in Light ineffable! 
Come then, expressive silence, muse his praise. 



NOTES 

T O 

THE SEASONS 
THOMSON. ^ 



Perhaps no Poems have been iread more generally^ or with more 
l>leasure than the Seasons of Thomson. This was a natural con- 
sequence of the objefts which they present, And of the genius which 
they display. In descriptive poetry, or as a poetital painter, I do 
not know an equal to Thomson. The pictures of other poets, com- 
t>aratively with his, often want precision, colour, and expression : 
because they are more copies from books than originals; rather 
secondary descriptions, than transcripts made immediately from 
the living volume of Nature. With Her Thomson was inti- 
mately acquainted : and as his judgement, his sentiment, his taste are 
equal to his diligent observation, the whole groupe of objects in bis 
descriptions is always peculiarly striking, or affecting, from their 
natural and happy relation to one another. — Hence, peculiarly in this 
Poet, a little natural objeft, apparently insignificant of itself, takes 
consequence, from its association to others, and very much heightens 
and enforces the awful or beautiful assemblage. Thomson's poetry 
is still more nobly recommended to his readers, by a most amiable 
morality, and religion ; by a rational, and sublime adoration of God; 
and by a tender, ardent, and universal love of man. His powers in 
exhibiting natural objects, often strongly inculcate his morality, and 
religion ; — the Painter, and the Sage are very fortunate auxiliaries 
to each other. The structure of his verse is> charaderistically, his 
•wn;— 4rue genius disdains all mechanical, and servile imitation r 
that verse is always perspicuous, energetick; — fully, and clearly 
expressive of his ideas ;—*not so easy, always, and flowing in its 
close, as we could wish. — The favourite obje6ls of his mind did not 
captivate his imagination alone ; they a6luated and marked his man- 
ners, and his life. He was a most benevolent, as well as a great 
man : — ^he was a Poet of the first class 5 — ^hc was an honour to ScoT- 
i.AND^ to Europe; to MANKIND. ' 

( t SPRING. 



NOTES TO THE SEASONS. 



SPRING. 



\irst 5th " O Hartford," &c. This lady well merilfcd 

Thomson's poetical encomium. She was equally distinguished by 
the graces of the person, and those of the mind. Her humanity, 
and her generous application to queen Caroline saved the life of the 
unfortunate Savage ; when, without that interposition he would hav# 
fallen a vi^im to a mistaken Jury, misled by an unfeeling judge ;-«« 
•* Hard words, and hanging, if your judge is Pace." — See JohiC'» 
son's excellent life of Savage. I by no means think that inhuma-* 
nity is acharadleristickof Mr. BoswelL; — ^therefore I was surprised 
to find, by some bold, and ilUgrounded conjectures of this biogra-> 
pher, that the fate of Savage has been singularly calamitous; — the 
injuries which he suffered, while living, were horrible ;^^-repose is not 
allowed to his ashes ; they are cruelly violated ; and the charge of 
imposiure is dragged into the society of his more venial faults, and 
vices. See Boswell's life of Johnson, where he makes a parti-* 
cular mention of Savage. That he was really the son of Lord 
Rivers, and the Countess of Macclesfield^ we have no solid 
foundation to doubt: indeed, from some arguments which Mr. 
Bos WELL feels himself obliged to introduce, and which, of them- 
selves, confirm the fa£t, that gentleman seems half to recant the 
charge which he had brought against the memory of Savage. Wc 
might have expected, that from his implicit submission to every 
Avro; 1^ of his great Aristotle, he would have been more tender 
{I should have said mort just) to the philosopher's departed friend. 

Verse 17th. " The mountains lift," &c. — ^The apparent, and 
gradual elevation of the verdure of the mountsuns is, in some degree 
exemplified in the monosyllables of this line. 

V. 1 01. «• Now from the town** — ^Thc obje& and propertied of 
the capital, and of the country, are, here, finely contrasted ia ten* 
timent, and in poetical perspe6live, and description. 

V. 143, " The north east spends his rage:" — In this vernal 
^ower, and in the imagery which relates to it, our Poet's descrip* 
live fertility, aad art, are in all their strengthi aad beauty. 



VOTES TO THK tEASONi* 



-<< man superiour walks» 



*' Amid the glad creation ; musing prdsei 
** And looking lively gratitude.'* 
This charming, moral, and pious pi6hirey is a just and severe re* 
proof to those unfeeling souls who pay not a tribute of ardent grati- 
tude, and praise, to the goodness, and greatness of their Creatorv 
The Many-fwlnkling leaves is an expression in this description. 
Mr. Gray applies the same epithet to a different image. Poets, 
while they wish to be strong, should not forget to be elegant, and 
easy. A fault in the great authour of the Seasons, is, sometimes a 
stiffness, a harshness of style '.—compound epithets should be fru- 
gally used 5 otherwise it will be evident that they glide not naturally 
into the genius of our language; Thomson uses them too freely. 

V. a66. « The lion's— horrid heart— was meekened:'' a word 
happily made by Thomson ; — agreeably to the analogy ol our Ian* 
guage ; and expressively, in sound, of the disposition which it coiw 
veys. 
V. 379. ■ ■ *^ Reason, half-extin6l, 

<< Or impotent, or ebe approving ^ sees 

*< The foul disorder." 

That foul disorder can never, surely, be seen by reason, with api^ 
probation, 

V. 349. <* But man whom nature formed" Sec. — This pathetick 

passage from a muse who was eminent for humanity, if it cannot 

make us Pythagoreans, or Gentoos, should, at least, make us the 

merciful prote£tors of the animal creation, while we suffer them to Uve» 

^•453* " There let the classic page thy fancy lead 

*^ Through rural scenes; such as the Mantuan sage 
<< Paints in the matchless harmony of song : 
<< Or catch, thyself, the landscape, gliding swift 
** Athwart Imagination's vivid eye." 
This is a remarkably beautiful passage, which closes with line 464. 
—we should not only be led by the classic page, through rural' 
scenes; but, like Thomson, we should be attentive to catch the 
landscapes, ourselves. 

V. 484. <* Those looks d>M»fv;"--an epithet which is nevcx 
now used (and perhaps should not have been used by our poet) in 
pure praise. 

V. 591. " Call up the tuneful nations" . The har- 

inony of the poetical Oftdcnce^ hcre^ correspond& witb the melody to 



ROTtS TO THE SEAS0K9. 



V. 677. ■■ " Even 80 a gentle pair," &c. 

How can the rich and powerful read this most aflefting simile, with- 
out determining to enquire into, and rcliere the distresses of their 
obscure, and poor, but patient and virtuous neighbours! The 
process of the feathered tribes, in the continuation, and care of their 
•pecies, was never described in so just, and captivating a manner as 
it is by THOMsoif. 

V. 846 « What is this mighty breathy ye cunous say,'*. &c. 

" what but God ! 

** Inspiring Godl" 
If the wretch who denies the Existence of the Deity, without having 
absolutely lost his reasoning faculty, attentively surveys the works of 
the creation, and attentively reads the Seasons of Thomson ;— if this 
ivretch can possibly still be an atheist, we must not impute the mon- 
strous opinion to a weakness of understanding ; but to a mind totally 
•^rkened by vice, and despair. 

V. 900. " These are the sacred feelings of, thy heart, 
*' Thy heart, informed by Reason's purer ray, 
« OLyttelton, the friend!" 
• This whole passage is fraught with the generous (Enthusiasm of 
poetry, and friendship. Its picturesque parts are likewise admira- 
ble. The nobleman, here celebrated, well deserved the panegyrick 
of Thomson. He was a mild, and benevolent man, an elegant 
scholar ; a diftinguished orator ; an eminent writer both in verse and 
prose. Johnson is grossly unjust to his literary merit. But what 
attention is to be payed to the hypercritick, who tells us, that Akeitw 
side's Odes will never be read ? 

V. 959. " Flushed by the spirit of the genial year,** &c. 

In his descriptions of love, too ; of its effeCts on the animal world ; 
and on the human species ; of the effe6ls of the unfortunate, and the 
successful ; of the licentious, and the lawful passion, our Poet is without 
a rival. These descriptions are very particular; they are circumstan- 
tial ; yet they never flag ; they are every where charadlerized with 
line painting, with a constant, and warm attention to nature ; widi 
poetical tenderness, ardour, and elevation. The concluding passage 
of the Spring, which begins with this line, 
^ <* But happy they, the happiest of their kind V* 

presents to the mind of the reader two connubial examples, which ane 
forcible enough to affefla Dutchman, and to reclaim a profligate. 

I am unavoidably limited in the extent of my Notes on the Seasons \ 
Otherwise I should have paid to one of the most ^soiMt^ and §reaf- 



NOTES TO THE SEASONS; 



'est of poetsy a more assiduous attention. I am unfeignedly willing 
to acknowledge, that by the circumscription to which I must submit^ 
more will be lost to my own private sati8fa£tiony than to the infoma- 
tion, or entertainment of the publick. Notes, indeed, to the works 
of true poetsy are principally useful when they illustrate fa£ls, which^ 
hy a long lapse of time may not be generally known ; to such £a£\M 
there is hardly one allusion in the Seasons ; their authourjudiciously^ 
never refers you, but to celebrated persons or events. His sentiments, 
and descriptions are (what poetry should ever be) always perspici^ 
ous. The mind is rather distradted than delighted by the poet, whose 
thoughts, and pictures must be illustrated by frequent annotations;— 
Such a Poet is but a Tyro in the divine art ; indeed^ he deserves not 
the honourable and distinguishing name. 



S U M M E lU 




Among the many futile, absurd, and ungenerous passages in 
Johnson's lives of the poets, is the following remark on the Sea* 
sons: — '' The great defeat of the Seasons, is, want of method; 
** but for this I know not that there was any remedy. Of many 
** appearances subsisting all at once, no rule can be given why one 
** should be mentioned before another ; yet the memory wants the 
** help of order ; and the curiosity is not excited by suspense, or 
** expe^tion.'' — ^I must beg leave to assert that what I have now* 
quoted, is absolute nonsense. Therefore, as it is not entitled to a 
particular refutation, let it be refuted by the poem which now 
engages my attention ; and which is longer by several hundred lines 
than the other Seasons. It has all the order, and method that an/ 
sensible, and liberal critic ; that any reader, except a dry, formal 
pedant, could wish. The poet surveys, paints, and enforces with a 
glowing, and animated pencil, with an affecting, and sublime 
morality, and religion, a Summer's morning, noon, evening, and 
Aightj as they succeed one another|. in the course of nature (fof 
i- wcly. 



VOTES TO THB fEAtOfTf. 



fsrely, the numj^ sffearancfs, in sn^ aeasoiiy do not stf^sisi mil mf 
mte). If thit is not method, I know not what t$. The moK 
^imired poems have their episodes, which, by no meant, destroy, or 
'Confuse, the order of the principal £U>le. His description of nooa 
is expanded with an interesting pidure of the torrid sone, to which 
•lie devotes 460 lines. The rich, and ardent colouring of this pi^re» 
is congenial with the climate which it represents. If these lines are 
^ digression, they are naturally conneded with the main subjed ; 
they nerer lose sight of it \ therefore they keep it continually in the 
mind of the reader. For. his moral, and pious apostrophes, origin 
nating from his immediate object ; for his charming episodes, derived 
irom the same sources, he cannot be uasvmahly taxed with a negled 
of regularity. To point out the particular beauties of his Celjl/- 
DON, and Amelia; of his Damon, and Musidora, would be» 
to affront the good sense, and good sentiments of my readers* 
They are beautiful tributes to virtue, to piety; to our best afieftions* 
ney alone evince the falsehood, and the folly of another strange 
observation of our arbitrary critick ; — " That it does not appear that 
•• he had much sense of the pathetick.'* — ^The person who wrote 
this of Thomson, must either have lost all remembrance of his 
authour, when he wrote it ; or his own mind must have been ill 
adapted to sympathize with pathetick writing. The pathetick is one of 
the leading chara^leristicks of the Seasons ; it inspired the life, and the 
numbers of this glorious Caledonian poet. What feeling soul 
can read that letter from htm to his sister, for which we are ob&ged 
to Mr. BoswELL, and to Dr. Johnson, without tears I It is. of 
infinitely more value than the life in whidi it is inserted. I would 
not do the least deliberate injustice to Johnson; he remarka 
Thomson's want of the pathetick (but he remarks it, in general 
terms, and without restriction) where he is criticising his tragedies. 
But even when applied to them^ the remark is not just. I do not 
say that he does not often in his dramas throw out a strain of 
studied eloquence, and declamation, which would have been better 
substituted by the sin^e, and concise language of nature; — yet 
they are in several places, strongly nuirked with the pathetick : — the 
whole tenour of his Edward and Elbonora (the a^ing of whick 
play was prevented by ministerial resentment, and injustice) it 
eminently pathetick. 

After having described Summer^ and its. efie6b in Mr fortunate 
island, he very forcibly, and I think, with great regularity, expa- 
tiates on those ixMstimable blessings which ara peculiarly enjioirtd by 



irOttS TO TRB IEAIOK9* 



trtie inhabitants of Britain : he riien pays his tributtt of judiciously 
distinguished eulogy (and certainly with no incoherent deviation from 
his ruling objects) to those illustrious characters, who have distin- 
guishedy and elevated the annals of this country t and he closes tht 
season with a peroration to philosophy, the noble instru6lory and 
guide of life;-^ peroration which is charaderized with elegance, and 
with a fine enthusiasm. All this I beg leave to call regularity, and 
a beautifid method. 

What our formidable critick means by telling us that in reading the 
Seasons, " Memory wants the help of order, and the curiosity is 
*< not excited by suspense or expctetion,*' it is difficult td say. It ii so 
unsubstantial and random a censure that it may be applied, with equal 
propriety, to the best poem of Viroil, or of Pops. To excite thai 
<ager, and anxious curiosity, suspense, and cxpeChition, which it is 
incumbent on the writer of a novel, or of a drama, to raise, did no| 
enter into the plan of the Seasamn yet in reading them, every 
mind that has a genuine taste for poetry is always warmly interested, 
and affedled, as it goes along ; it proceeds with a delightful expetta- 
Cion ; — for it cxpe£b to meet with most excellent poetry; and it is 
never disappointed ;-Mvith poetry which Ifows in a natural and easy 
succession of sentiments, and imagery; byTROiisON ledta fotenur 
crat res ; therefore. 

Nee fiurundia deserit hunc^ nee lucidus ordo. 

Horace^! Art ofpHtry ; ▼. AO* 

According to the edi6tof Johnson, " The diaion of Thomsow 
'< is too exuberant, and sometimes may be charged with filling the eaf 
^ more than the mind.'* I should be sorry to lose a single expression 
of that most amiable, and inunortal poet ; there is not a feeble, not a 
superfluous word in the Seasons ; not a word which does not contri- 
bute to inform the mind, to enrich the fancy, or to improve the heart. 

I have taken this opportunity, with pleasure, to vindicate, in some 
degree, the transcendent merit, and fame of one of our first poets, 
from the arbitrary censures of a rude, vulgar, and dogmatical chair. 
For the liberty which I have taken with a critick, who could never 
have been deemed an oracle but through the infotiuition of prescrip- 
tion, I foresee the stridhxres with whkh I am to be assailed, by the 
stupidity of prejudice, and by the servility of fashion, and imitation, 
with a calm, and consequently, with a proper contempt. 

V. 3a. « With what an awful worldi^revolving power,'* kc. 

This passage includes a beautiful theology 5 the first general, and 
Ac subsequent immtdiate, and itiU aftiye providence of the peity. 

y. 7i» 



■ irOTEt TO THB SBA80N9. 

V. 71. *< To lie in dead oblivion"— a fine incentive to vigilance ;* 
lb a moral and intellefhial oeconomy of time. I lay a particular stress 
on those passages which inculcate ojirtuef and piety ; from the pra6bice 
of ibem alone flows our genuine h^piness i — and while we practice 
4bem, we have lenitives for the worst calamities^ 

V. 185. — " Full nature swarms with life." » * ■■ 
We have the same thought amplified by Pofb : 
See through this sur, this ocean, and this earth. 
All matter 4uick, and bursting into birth 1 

Pope^s Essay on Man ; Ep, i. <i;. 135* ' 

V. 519. « These arc the haunts of meditation I" '— 

Here in forty-two verses are magnificently displayed the great fii-ir 
culties, and talents of a great poet ; — ^invention ) hig^ moral enthti-« 
■asm, and rapture. I cannot deny to myself the pleasure of quoting 
t similar, and very beautiful passage from Milton ; 
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth. 
Unseen both when we walk, and when we sleep : 
All these, with ceaseless pi-aise, his works behold 
Both day, and night. How often from the steep 
Of echoing hill, or thicket, have we heard 
Celestial voices, to the midnight air 

Sole, or responsive each to other's note, . - . j 

Singing their great Creator 1 oft, in bands, 
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk. 
With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds. 
In full harmonic number joined, their songs 
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven^ 

Paradise j^i ; B, i*u, 6*ff4 *. 
A shepherd in the Aminta of Tasso, indulges a strain of send->^ 
ment, and imagery, congenial with that of Thomson, and Milton^ 
to which I now refer. The reader will be pleased to accept it, fron% 
my translation of that Italian poem : . 

Together oft we cultivate the muses ; 
And with their scenes enrich our simple life. 
Oft do the muses, on a beauteous eve. 
The sky serene, and droytrsy nature hushed. 
Vouchsafe celestial sounds to rural ears ; 
And raise our humble minds above their stretchji 
With such warm fancy, such ethereal forms. 
As 'scape the vulgar intelledhial eye. 

Amyntas of Tasso; ail uu teine %d^ 

V. lit. 



KOtES TO tHE SEASOKS* 



V. Sit. '^ Nor kss tly world, Columvus/* &c. Stnking pie* 
turet of the vast American rivers. 

V. 1070. " ^tf'Dfl^^^/by woe:"— V. lofi. << I«fi</groyc.»*— 
Words made by Tit om son* This species of coining ofiends a mere 
(Mologist, when it does not violate the genius of our language ; but 
when it conveys vigorous sense, or senthnenti it gives no offisnce to si 
mind susceptible of poetical pleasure. 

V. 13(4. «.« The clouds, tliose beauteous robes of heaven, 

** Incessant rolled into romantic shapes $ 
** The dream of ijoaking fancy / 
These last expressions very happily convey a very happy thought. 

V. 1591. ** O THOU 1 by whose almighty nod** 
An address to the Supreme Being, worthy of a poet, a patriot, and 4 
christian. 

V. 1610. " For ever running an enchanted round,*' &c. 
This passage of seventeen lines» would have sufficient energy to reclaim 
Vice ; to banish extravagant luxury, and to substitute virtuous oeco« 
nomy, and universal, and a6live benevolence in it*s place, if inveterate 
habit, operating on the selfish depravity of human nature, could b« 
Aibdued by the power of numbers. 



AUTUMN. 



Ou& best judgement, or our unsupported fancy^ among tliese four 
beautiftil Poems, may have supposed a superiour excellence of one to 
another; though, perhaps, that superiour excellence, cannot, with jus- 
tice, be determined. The Winter of our authour has, I think, been 
commonly preferred to his other Seasons | I am not without my rcspe^l 
for publick opinion ; though it is frequently, at least for a timer, but 
mere opinion. I own that, after the most careful perusal of these 
poems, (and they miay be read, with a most lively, and animated 
l^easure, every revolving year) I never could find that any one of 
them was eminently, or at all distinguished above the rest, by genius, 
«ad CDmpositiojQ. It is probable that the Winter of TiiOMsOM hai% 

% always 



i^otti to tilE itAi6vi» 



always been fartteuiarfy 26miredf because it was iht first Season 
which he gave to the world ; the first enterprise of his poetical tsdentf 
which opened his way to fortune, and to fione. If his Autumn^ 
the poem which is now under my view, is^ in the least degree^ iiife« 
ridur to his o^r Seasons, for that inferiority (which I do not venture 
lo suppose, without an humble ^neration of the Manes of this diyine 
poet) two reasons may be assigned. A muse, of whom it may be said^ 
with a hr juster encomium than of that wild rhapsodist, PindAK, 
that she sailtt 'with sufreme d^minioftf tbrougb the azure deef of air % 
—the muse, who can soar with such majesty, reverses her diredlion, 
in the poem which is now before me, and dives, perhaps, with too 
much diligence, and minutenesS) into the depths ai our globe ; into 
Ihe arcana of Nature. As soon as a poet becomes sdcntifick, he ra- 
ther forgets, and leaves his province ; because he ceases to addres^the 
conunon knowledge, and the common sentiments of mankind. Hence^ 
the Loves of the Plants, surveyed by Dr. Da&went, with the 
microscopick eye of a naturalist, are one of the most improper, and 
absurd subje£h for poetry that can be imagined^ — Perhaps no poet 
could have been equal to Thomsou, in the eloquent, and interesting 
manner in which, in his Autumn> he has brought science to the at- 
tention of his readers :— his philosophical poetry is as superiour to 
that of Lucretius, as the theory of the Caledonian Poet is superi- 
our to that of the Roman.— This Poem may not afie£t, and strike the 
mind of the reader so forcibly as the other three, for another reason : 
he inferiority, if there is any, may be imputed to the subject. — ^Au- 
tumn, perhaps, has not such bold, and various' chara£teristicks, as 
nature, and (consequently) art have given to Spring, to Summer, 
and to Winter* 

In his description of the fete of the Savage, the following lines 
must be very pathetically expressive to every feeling mind, which, in 
civilised, and polite society, is unsupported by the dearest ties of 
human life : 

** Home he had not ; home is the resort 

•* Of love, of joy j of peace, and plenty ; where 
** Supporting, and supported, polished friends^ 
" And dear relations, mingle into bliss.*'— V. 65. 
• V. «i. " Gave the tall, ancient forest to his a*"— 

This is a harsh word for the conclusion of a verse : it is to be re- 
gretted that Thomson (who, when he pleases, can be most delight- 
fully harmonious) did not oftener close his verse, specially wherb 
•the mind mUf naturallyi to msike a paU8p|. with an easy) liquid, and 

^ flowing 



NOTII TO TRl SIASOWI* 



flowing wordy that might have corresponded with the soft, and teiiL* 
porary intelle6hial repose. This observation may seem trivial, or 
whimsical, to those who have not maturely considered the nature of 
poetry, or whose souls may not be formed for all the pleasure which 
it affords. Hokacb tells us, that to put the merit of poetry to an 
infallible test, we must throw it into a prosaick order : and Dr. War* 
ton has adopted the rule of the great Roman critick. In experience^ 
however, this rule by no means holds good. Poetical sound, melody, 
harmony, have effe6ls, in a certain manner, and proportion, simi- 
lar, and analogous to those of musick. And these combinations, and 
effects are essential to poetry ; it is not poetry without them. The in* 
fluence of a number of fine verses on the mind of the elegant reader, 
will be greatly enforced, or enfeebled, by the happy, or unfortunate 
choice, and station, of a single word. The stream of Thomson's 
poetry is always clear, and vigorous | but it is too disdainful of an 
easy flow. 

V. 1 40.—/* Forming art, Imagination-^usbed,** 

The epithet is expressive : but the compound is harsh ; the bold^ 
and abrupt sound, too, grates the ear ; and therefore hurts, and re- 
pells the mind, when, at the end of this energetick paragraph, it 
wished to melt away, with the Poet, down a more gentle, and dying 
fall. 

V. 177. " The lovely, young Lavinia," &c. Simplicity, 

elegance, pathos, and the humane, and generous virtues, mark this 
charming tale. When our Poet wrote it, his fancy must have been 
warmly impressed with the beautiful history of Ruth. That his- 
tory presents to us a most engaging picture of primitive manners, and 
virtues. It's simplicity steals upon, and captivates the mind. — ^How 
afie^ing are the following artless, and easy expressions ; because they 
convey all the sincerity, and tenderness of the soul I — " And Ruth 
** said [to Naomi] intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from 
** following after thee ; for whither Thou goest, / will go ; and where 
** Thou lodgest, / will lodge ; tby people shall be my people ; and sby 
** God, my God ; — ^whert Thou diest, will / die ; and there will I be 
*< buried : the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death 
«« part thee, and me I" — Rutb^ cbaf, li/. a;. 16 — What a pleasing 
description of early times does the following verse contain h — ** And 
** behold BoAZ came Crom Bsthlehem, and said unto the reapers, 
** the Lord be with you. And they answered him ; the Lord bless. 
<* Tbeel** Ruth, cbaf, %d, v. 4/A. — The reciprocal language of mo- 
dern christian ^mers^and their reapers, is, I feafi very difierent from 

%% thst 



NOTSt TO TRB tlASOKI* 



that of these good old Jews. The fine spirit of the Hebrew nam- 
live lost nothing while it was transfused by Thomsom. 

V. 350. — «< Clamant children dear:'*— a word made by 
Thomsoit. 

V. 379. and V. 426. begin paragraphs which do great, and eqiud 
honour to the genius, and to the heart of the authour. The interest 
which he takes in the fate of the animal creation, strongly recom- 
inends his poetry to every good, and truly religious man. If a soul 
disgraced, and debased with hunting, had any feeling left, what an-, 
fwer would it make to this address of our poet to beasts of prey ? 

** Upbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage ; 

•• For hunger kindles jrotf, and lawless want ; 

•* But lavish- fed, in Nature's bounty roU'd, 

<* To joy at anguish, and delight in blood, 

•* Is YthzXyour horrid bosoms never knew. V, 396. 

His description of the persecuted stag is, all, in his own warm senti- 
xnent, and fine colouring. These lines are remarkably beautiful^ and 
pathetick ; ^hile the stag is persued, and harrassed, 

** 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.** V. 441. 
If the Mtblofian could change bis skin, or tbe leopard bis spots ; or 
if a NiMROD could be humanized, the following picture of the last 
distress, and death of this beautiful animal would make him feel 
something like sympathy. 

** Wliat 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 5 

«« And puts his last weak refuge in despair. 

** The big, round tears run down his dappled face ; 

«* He groans in angui(h ; while the growling Pack, 

«« Blood-happy, hang at his fair, jutting chest 5 

« And mark his beauteous, checquered sides, with gore." V, 449. 
v. 483. " But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport 

« Is hurried wild,'* &c. 

Here, in forty eloquent, and persuasive lines, he shows how ab- 

honvnt the natural softness of the fair sex is from the sports of the 

field; and he strongly inculcates to that sex an undivided attention 

lo their proper duties, and accomplishments. Nothing can be more 

disgusting 



MOTES TO THE SEASONS* 



disgusting than a Harpaltce, to a man of ezperiencey and Fefle6tion. 
The character includes indifference to her husband, andchildren, 
a general depravity, and barbanty of heart : — roughness of di^si- 
tion, in a martf may be combined with some generous, and noble 
qualities; for in bim^ the influence of reason is vigorous, and not 
easily eradicated : but when 'wo m a / t , in any instance, habitually vio- 
lates humanity, she gradually loses all sentiment : or, in other woids, 
the foundation of her virtues. 

V. 88 1. Thomson, undoubtedly, with the strictest truth, here 
describes the tenour, and habit of his poetical life : 

— — — ^— — ^ " I solitary court 
'* The inspiring breeze ; and meditate the book 
•* Of Nature, ever open ; aiming, thence, 
«* Warm from the heart, to learn the moral song." 
V. 915. " He comes, he comes ; in every breeze, the power 

" Of PHILOSOPHIC MELANCHOLY COmes!" 

Here, two passages, or paragraphs, which consist of seventy-three 
ines, are highly distinguished by poetical spirit, and fire; by inven- 
tion ; and by a glorious eulogy on the illustrious father of our pre- 
sent minister. 

V. J 083. *< Ah! see, where robbed, and murdered,** &c. 

A beautiful complaint over the destruction of a bee-hive. Such 
a master of the pathetick is Thomson, that he a^hially excites a very 
lively compassion, in the breast of the reader, for the fate of these 
Hale people I 

V. 1146. ** Oh 1 knew He but his happiness,*^ 8cc. 

From this line to the end of the Autumn^ flows a strain of moral, 
and philosophical poetry, which, perhaps, w^s never excelled. It 
woos every heart which is not corrupted by bad habits, and passions, 
to innoxious rural pleasures, and to rural tranquillity; to that know- 
ledge which purifies, and exalts the heart, and mind ; and rivets the 
invaluable principles of virtue, and religion. 



NOTES TO THE SEASONf* 



WINTER. 



On a careful re-perusal of this Seasoiii it seems to deserve all the 
distinguished admiration, and praise which it has received. It's uiv- 
rivalled excellence, was, perhaps an efie£t which was produced m 
the mind of Thomson by the Season itself, parsimonious of the 
produ6tions of the earth, but fruitful of poetry. — ^The objects of 
Winter peculiarly strike sensibility, and sentiment, with the Solemn, 
and the Awful ; we are, then, deeply affe^ed with the tremendous 
Majesty of the Divine Maker of Winter ; — and hence, the true poet, 
will, at this Season, if he takes it for his subject, display the noblest 
excellences of his powerful art ; his strains will be, naturally conse- 
crated to the Grave, the Moral, and the Sublime. This Season pre- 
sents no gay, flourishing, and sportive scenes ;— consequently the 
bard retires more into himself, now, than at other dmes; owes 
more to his own faculties, and acquirements ; is more intent on the 
works, and atchievements, of the human, and eternal mind. These 
remarks, I hope, will be thought to have some foundation, by him 
who reads the poem of Winter, with that close, and warm attentioo 
which it highly deferves. 

Misaddress to the Season, and to the Earl of Wilmington, at 
the beginning of Winter, is extremely pathetick, and harmonious* 

V. 1 1 8. " When from the pallid sky,'» &c. 

The various presaging marks of the storm, and the description of 
the storm itself, are equally cUstinguished by their accuracy, and by 
their force ; they are striking chara£teristicks of their great object : 
they form one of the many eminent examples of tiiat penetrating^ 
and indefatigable attention to nature, and of those astonishing pow« 
ers to paint her, in which Thomson is without a rival. In the fol- 
lowing lines, popular superstition, and credulity, are converted into 
fine poetical machinery : 

<* Then, too, they say, through all the burdened air, 
** Long groans are heard, shrill sounds, and distant sighs, 
•« That uttered by the Demon of the night, 
<< Warn the devoted wretch of woe^ and death." 

V. 20^ 



KOTti t6 mt IIASOKS. 



V. 205. " Let me associate whh the serious Nighty" &c.— An 
address to maiiy and another to God, which would produce excellent 
cife6ls in our condu^, if attention, and reformatiOD were to be com. 
tnonly expedted from habitual folly, and vice* 
V. 145. . — >■ " Oncalonei 

" The rcd-breasl,'* &c, 
'This little timorous, and beautiful bird, gtadoally domesticating 
"with man, in the desolate Season, desorved the trHEiute of Trom- 
son's pidhiresqne, humane, and most amiable muse. 
V. 276. — *< As thus the snows arise; and foul, imd fierce, 
** A)\ winter drives along die daiicened air ;" 4rc. ' 
This description of the man perishing in the storm of snow has 
arrested ^e attention, and the affections of every reader in whose 
<!omposition there was a spark of feeling^*— We «nter mto all cht 
liopes, and fears ; into all the recolle^ions ; into all the fond images^ 
into all the distress, anguish, and despair of the dying person. Wirti 
himg we feel the icy hand of death creeping over our frame. — Our 
poet, as a sagacious, most observing, and sympathising man, not 
only made himself master of all the situations, and sentiments of his 
fellow-creatures; so comprehensive was his mind, and 10 exquisite 
fvas his sensibility, that he seems to have seen, and felt, even the 
process of the vegetable worid : and the sufferings, and enjoyments, 
the ideas, and the thoughts, of the animal creation*- A short quo* 
tation, or two, will illustrate, and justify my remark. In his S»m . 
ftur, after the sheep, 'the suft^ fearful feofle^ have been forced to 
Tgommit their 'Woolly sides to tbaflood^ 

** Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow 

*^ Slow move the harmless race ; where, as they ^read 

^ Their swelling treasures to the sunny ray, 

** Inly disturbed y and ^wondering nvbat this *wild, 

** Outrageous tumult means ^ their loud complaints^ 

<< The country fill ; and tossed from rock to rock, 

*^ Incessant bleatings run around the hills," &c. 

Summer, -p. JS4. 
I regret that the limits of these Notes will notalkMrme to quote, 
Irom Autumn f the whole Elegy on the ill-fated Hive of Bees. 
<< Ah! see, where robbed and murdered, ih ^t pit, 
*< Lies the still-heaving hive 1 at evening snatchM, 
^* Beneath the Cloud of guilt-concealing night, 
^< And fixed o'er sulphur; tvhile, n§t dreaming ill, 
** The haffyfeofUy im their twaxen cells f 
f* Sutf tending fuhlick cares, and planning fcbemes 



NOTES TO THB SKAtaN^. 



** Of timferanc€y for t/ointer f—r \ nj^fU^d^ 
** To MSrJkt full Rowing rounds tbeir co^oUs storn* 
«< Sudden, the dark, oppressive steam ascends j 
<< And used to milder scents^ the tender race^ 
** By thousands tumble from their honeyed domes, 
** Connfoi'vedf and agonizing in the dust. 

M See where the stony bottom of their town 

** Looks desoUte, and wild ; with here and there 

** A helpless numketf nvho the mined state 

<* Sum^i^e, lamenting nveaJtp cast otts to death J^ 

Autuntn^ a>. lOSji 
The pf»vident Acuities which are^ here given to Bees, will not 
teem eztravagaot to those who reflect on the wonderful art, and 
conduft of those axumals, and who recoiled that some accurate ob« 
servers of nature 

Esse a|Hbus partem DiviKiB Mentis, et haustus 
Kthereos dixere. f^irgUi Georg. k^. <i;. sat. 

V. 3E3. ** Much is the patriot's weeding hand required.*' 
Here are six lines that should be froperly considered by the legis« 
lators of a country, whose freedom, and secure enjoyment of pro* 
perty, have been long, and often boasted. 
V' 424. ** Now, all amid the rigours of the year," Sec. 
From this to the 690th verse, we are entertained with strains of 
poetry distinguishedly fine :-*to several of the celebrated charac^ 
ters of Greece, and Rome, their proper, and respedhve euk)gie8 an; 
given : Some of our own worthies have their merited di8tin6tion | 
the heroesi and heroines of the Tragick Mufe are presented to us^ 
with dramatick force ;— and we are invited by all the eloquence, and 
power of numbers, to a contemplation of the great obje^b of mora-* 
lity, and of natural religion. 
V. 827. *< Rough tenant of these shades, the shapeless bear"— 
From this instance, too, it appears that our admirable Pioet sur-« 
veyed the situations, and sentiments of animalS| with a most per« 
vading imagination. 

V. 979. " Repressing, here, 

** The frantic Alexander of the norths" &ۥ 

The Czar, Peter, was a very great man; though he hadverjr 

exceptionable, very detestable qualities. On the banks of tlMi 

pRUTH, indeed, he behaved in an imprudent, and despicable inan'" 

ner. I am soiry that Thomson hath jacrificcd the glory of 

Churles 



NOTCS TO THE SSASt)KS» 



Charles to the Russian Hero. The sacrifice was worthy of Lord 
Chesterfield; but it was unworthy of a Poet. However^ 1 am 
not to learn, from this instance, that even Poets are apt to be Very 
«low, and parsimonious, in acknowledging, and defending, the merit 
of the Unfortunate. 

V. io»3. " ^Tis done; dread Winter spreads his lateft glooms ; 

'* Andrelgns> tremendous, o^er the conquered year." &c. 

It is not in the magick of poetical numbers, more powerfully t(> 
captivate us to an adive humanity ; to gratitude to Heaven ; and to 
a pcrfedl, and serene resignation to it^s will, than we are charmed to 
these virtues, in the close of the Season'^. The subsequent Hymn 
to the Deity does equal, and infinite honour, to the poetical genius, ' 
and to the feeling, and sublime piety of it^s authour ;— it, at leaff, 
equals Mr. Pope^s Universal Prayer. Indeed, the merit of 
these two prayers is of different kinds. The reasoning, and argu- 
mentative substance of Pope's prayer is adorned, and enforced, with 
the beauty, and dignity of numbers. Sentiment and imagery, are 
the essential constituents of Thomson's Hymn : and to bis versi- 
fication they owe all the colouring, and e.tpression that versificatioili 
can bestow. 

Thomson's Poem of " Liberty^' (says Dr. JoHKsoK^ in his 
Life of our Poet) when it fird appeared, I tried to read, and sooti 
desisted; I have never tried again, and therefore will not hazard ei- 
ther praise or censure." — As that Poem was written by the authour 
of the Seasons^ I am persuaded that the reader will easily forgive 
me for offering him, here, some remarks on it's merit, and on the 
fastidious manner in which it was treated by Dr. JoHKsoN. Most 
Poets have their conspicuous master-piece ; the Seafons are Thom- 
son's, beyond all controversy. The spirit, and style with which a 
Poem is executed, depends greatly on the judgement, and taste with 
which it's fable is chosen, and arranged. The plan of Liberty^ which 
unfortunately, is minutely, and circumstantially historical, fpreads a 
damp, and a languor through several parts of the Poem. I must 
likewise acknowledge that the composition of it's language often 
wants the perspicuity of the authour of the Seasons. It is, however, 
as often marked with the manner of a great master ; and it hath se- 
veral passages which are completely worthy of the Poet by whom they 
were written. It may seem surprizing that a Lexicographer had 
not patience to peruse the Poem of Liberty ; //^ , who, one day, told 
tlie authour of these notes, that he liked muddling work ; that was 

i his 



K0TE8 TO THE 8F.ASOVS. 



his expression. For the disgiift, however, which this unfortunat© 
Poem soon gave him, I can easily account, to those who are at all 
acquainted with his real habits, and charafter. 

With all his atchievements in the republick of letters, he gave 
way to long intervals of the mod unmanly, and torpid indolence. 
This indolence prevented him from being properly acquainted with 
several books, which arc carefully perused by every man who de- 
serves the title of a scholar. I was not a little surprized when ho 
told me, that he had only read parts of my Lord CtAREMDON'is 
History. If he recoiled from a history which is written strongly in 
favour of toivering prerogative ; we need not wonder that he was 
violently repelled from a Poem which is fraught with encomiums oa 
equal liberty. For, the other reason, undoubtedly, why he so soon 
desisted, after he had begun to read that Poem, was his prejudiced 
^nd ungenerous dislike of the glorious subje^ : he treats the very 
word, Liberty", which, properly underftood, comprehends every 
thing that is dear to man, with an indecent, and contetnptibl^ con-^ 
temft^ in his Lives of the Poets ; and in several of his other worics* 
The well-proportioned, and fair fabrick of our Constitution is half-way 
between the star-chamber of Samuel Johnson, and the tap-room 
of Thomas Paine, 

There are several very fine passages in the Poem of Liberty ; but 
Johnson, ^ I have already observed, from his inveterate preju^^ 
dices, disliked the subject. Surely, a Poem which is adorned with 
the following imagery, and language, might have been perused by 
one, whose talents were too often obliged to submit to works of 
mere industry, and labour.— Liberty thus describes the Genius of 
the Deep, whom she met as she was advancing towards Britain^ 
after she had left the more Northern nations: 

., — « As o'e*' the wave-resounding deep. 

To my near reign, the happy isle I steered. 
With easy wing ; behold, from surge to surge. 
Stalked the tremendous Genius of the Deep ; 
Around him clouds, in mingled tempest hung 5 
Thick-flashing meteors crowned his starry head ; 
And ready thunder reddened in his hand ; 
As from it streamed, compressed, the glowing cMud. 
Wherever he looked, the trembling waves recoiled ; 
He needs but strike the conscious flood, and shook. 
From shoar to shoar, in agitation dire. 
It works his dreadful will. To me his voice 

(Lik0 



KOTES TO THE SERMONS. 



(Like that hoarse blast that round the cavern howls) 
Mixed with the murmurs of the falling main. 
Addressed, began : &c. — — — — 

Liberty : Part the IVth, v. 293. 
What I have written of Dr. Johnson, I hava written without 
any anxiety about the illiberal cavils, and censures which it may ex- 
cite ; for it has been written without any sinister influence ; dis- 
passionately and impartially, in the defence of civil, and literary 
truth. I admire those writings of that great man which deserve ad« 
miration : — his Preface to his Dictionary is a model of fine compo- 
sition ; his Ramblers are treasures of knowledge, of wisdom, and of 
eloquence ; an eloquence, however, which is often loaded, and in- 
jured by such heavy, and cumbrous words as have never been used, 
and will never be adopted by any truly elegant writer. I cannot say 
much in favour of his Rasselas, though it is a favourite of Mr. 
BoswELL. It excites not warm attention; and it is declamatory 
without being ardent. His Idlers are entertaining; and they are 
in general free from that pedantry of style, which is too apt to de- 
form his writings. His life of Savage is, in every respeft, an in- 
teresting, amiable, and beautiful production. He has given proofs 
to the world of his very uncommon poetical abilities. — ^When he 
wrote the Lives of our Poets, he evidently showed, that his faculties 
were on the decline, and that be was intoxicated with his conse- 
quence, and with his fame. As his intelleCl was losing it*s vigour, 
his political, and superstitious prejudices were gaining flrength ; and 
by fbemy not by judgement, and taste, he determined the merit, or 
demerit of his authours. Those lives, likewise, are hastily, and su- 
perficially written ; in tbem^ and in innumerable instances, he sacri- 
legiously endeavours, but m vain, to tear from the tombs of the il- 
lustrious Dead, thofe laurels which had been planted round them by 
the fine, and infallible Enthusiasm of Human Nature. When the 
present busy, and paltry machinations of interest shall a6l no more; 
when the talents of the Departed, and of the Living shall be justly 
appreciated by posterity ; it will be found that those lives arc a T)\%* 
grace to f^nglish Literature. 



THE 

INDEX AND GLOSSARY. 

The Numerals refer to the Booi^ the Figurei to the Lmu* 



Address to Amanda ... 

■ to Mr. Hammond 

■ to PhSosophy ... 
■ ■ to the Sun ... 

— — to Mr. Onslow 

' to the carl of Wilmington 

Advice to the lair-sex respefUng hunting 

— to young men respe£iing love 
Age^ the manners of the present 
Ananaf the pine-apple ... 

Apenmne mountains described - - - 

Anglers J instructions for - - . - 

^rgyUy the duke of» his character 
Autumn^ description of .... 

Augusta^ the Roman name for London 
Ausonia, a name given to Italy - • - 

B 
Beej, their haunts described - - • 

Behemoth^ the hippopotamuSf or river-horfe 
Birdsf the different species of them described 
Britiib CaiiiiUf Algernon Sydney, an English admiral 
Boj^ deceived by a rainbow - -* 



I. 


i. 




4*> 


IV. 


555 


u. 


»7»9 


11. 


9+ 


••• 

lU. 


9 


m 


i8 


••• 
111. 


51* 


i. 


980 


I. 


»74 


•• 
u. 


685 


IV. 


S90 


L 


38. 


••• 

Ul. 


9»7 


••• 
111. 


«7 


u. 


1409 


• • 


9J6 


• 

1. 


505 


• • 


710 


I. 


595 


u. 


i5»7 


t> 


ai< 



224 INDEX AND GLOSSARY. 



b. I. 

Celadon find AmeTia^ their melancholy story . ii. ii6k 

Clouds^ their use - - - - i. 260 

Couple^ a happy, in the married state, description of, L iiia 1136 

Creator^ the great, described, and where he dwells ii. 1 75 

D 

Damon and Musidoray their story related 
Daughters of Britain described 
Deluge^ the universal, described 
Diversions^ rural, described 
Doddingtony Mr. his country-seat described 



Ehphanty description of the - - . . 

Evanefcenty hardly perceivable 

Evenings fine, description of a summer's 

F 

fairy the British, dissuaded froni the exercise of the chase iii. 

■, proper employments for - - - 

Fear described - - - . 
Tly-Jishingy rules for 

Fox'hunttngy a description of - - - 

Friendsy social, described - . - 
Frithsy a kind of fishing-nets 

Frosty what it is, described - - . 



GbostSy chiefly the dreams of fancy 
Grovey a solemn, described 

H 

Hare-hunttng desdtibed 

Hertfordy the coUntess of, addressed 

Hay-nrnklngy description of 

Harvest y a prospect of the fields ready for 

Hymn to the fun 



11. 


1270 


ii. 


1580 


i. 


308 


iii. 


1221 


iii. 


653 


ii. 


721 


iL 


1781 


ii. 


1646 

• 


Ul. 


572 


iii. 


579 


i. 


285 


i. 


405 


iii. 


471 




383 


••• 
111. 


921 


iv. 


715 


ii. 


i58o 


ii. 


516 


iii. 


401 


i. 


5 


•• 
11. 


35» 


iii. 


31 


iL 


104 



IKDEX AND GLOSSARY* 



"5 



Husbandman^ a* perishing in the snow - iv« 

Huntsmen^ how they entertain themselves after the chase 
is over - - - • 



h. l. 
283- 3"7 

iii. 593 



yealousyf the effects of, in youth * 

Industry^ the praises of - - 

Inscription to the countesS of Hertford 
Invitation to walk in the fields early, in the spring 



111. 



1. 1074 
72- 141 

>• 5 
L 486 



Lart, the messenger of mom 

Lavinia^ her affecting story 

•— — , Palemon's address to her 

Leviathan^ the whale - * 

Ufet a country, recommended 

•— — , the pleasures of - - • • 

» compared to the seasons 

, the vanities of, their amount 
LigbtSf the northern, described, 
Lovcf a'dissuasion from wild, juvenile, and irregular 

, genuine, proofs of - - 

— -— , the matchless joys of - - 

M 

JUkif , the lord of the creation 

Marriage f the true pleasures of 

Melody 9 the voice of bvc • - - 

Mirths drunken, description of 

Moon-Rgbt, description of - - 

MlMtidorat secretly in bve with Damon 

■ ■■, verses written by her to Damoa 



I 587 

iiu 177 

iii. 265 

iv. 1014 

ili. 1233 

m. 1304 

iv. 1030 

iv. 209 

iii. 1 107 

i. 980 

iL 1669 

I. 1x54 



L 270 
i. 1115 
L 611 

»"• 539 
liL 1096 
ii. 1276 
iL 136$ 



N 
Nemeiii, a heathen deity; the wtiter of rewards and 
punisbmeiitt . ." - - 

o a 



u. 1034 



fti6 INDEX AND GLOSSARY. 



Nighty described in the spring, after a shower 

Nlle^ the river, described 

NiUtingf description of - - - 

P 

Palemorif his address to Lavinia •• 

Pajfkmif the, description of - - 

Philosophy^ the praises of - - 

PhUojcfhic life recommended, with the advantages of it. 

Ploughing^ how performed 

Prison y the miseries of a 

Prospecty description of a rurai 

Pomona^ the goddess of gardens 



Painhovff fine description of a 
Reaping^ description of - - - 

Reflections on the motions of the planets 
■ ' in praise of industry - - • . 

Retirement^ the proper time for 

S 

Seasons^ the annual succession of the 
Sharksy how they feize their prey 
Shency the old name of Richmond 
Shepherd zn^ his flock, pleasing description of a 
Sheep'shearlngy description of - - - 

Shlpwrecky description of a 

Shotting described - - - • 

Snowy description of a man perishing in the 
Spirits y departed, their address to man 
Statey the present, the infancy of being 
^Stanleyy a young lady well known to the author 
Summer insects described 
Swimming described and recommended - ii. 1250. 1256 

Sun, the life of the creation - * - ii. 103 

— the various efiFccts of his beams on the works of 

nature - - - iL i6r. 200 



b. 


/. 


i. 


2 16 


ii. 
iii. 


805 
617 


iii. 
L 


265 

280 


ii. 


1729 


in. 


1325 


1. 
iv. 


41 
362 


1. 
iL 


491 
663 


i. 

iii. 
.J 
11. 


203 

'53 

1695 


111. 

il. 


43 
1396 


i. 
ii. 


3i6 
1622 


ii. 


1407 


u. 


493 


n. 


397 


11. 
ir. 
iv. 


1042 
769 
285 


11. 
ii. 


544 
1801 


it. 


564 


11. 


241 



INDEX AND GLOSSARY. 227 



Temple of Virtue, in Stow-gardcns, described 

7en^ and Hemus^ fields in Thessaly 

ThaWf a description of - - 

Thunder^ where it resides 

TTyphon andEcnepbta^ winds known only between the tropics 

Traveller^ a benighted^ finely described 

Trout-jishing^ the time and instruments for it> described 

V 

Vatuiiet of life, their amount 

Vernon^ admiral, his fate alluded to « - 

Virtue^ the friend of man . - - 

Virtues^ description of the - - - . 

W 

Walking early in the spring, recommended 

, in the summer, proper time for 
— , in the autumn, - - - - 

Waterfall^ description of a 
Winter J in the frigid zone, described 

, rural amusements in - - 

Woods^ their appearance in autumn 
Woolf the ^taple commodity of Great-Britain 



Touihi the effects of love in - . . i. 983 



2,ime^ the torrid, described - - - ii. 632 

— -, the frigid, description of - - iv. 796 



h. 


/. 


iii. 


1048 


111. 


1315 


IV. 

ii. 
3 ii. 


990 
796 
984 


111. 
i. 


"43 
37^ 


iv. 


209 


11. 


1041 


IV. 

ii. 


1040 
1604 


i. 100 
ii. 
iii. 


>. 486 

1378 
961 


11. 


590 


IV. 79J 

IV. 760. 789 

iii. 948 


u 


. 42s 



THE END. 



L O N D O K : 
PRINTED AND HOTFJRESSED BT 

T. CHAPMAN, 

NEVIL*8 COURT, FETTER LASB.