Save a few chosen friends, who sometimes deign Or folly-painting Humour, grave bimself,
To bless my humble roof, with sense retiu'd, Calls Laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve
Learning digested well, exalted faith,

Meantime the village rouses up the fire;
Unstudy'd wit, and humour ever gay.

While well attested, and as well believ'd,
Or from the Muses' hill will Pope descend, Heard solemo, goes the goblin-story round;
To raise the sacred hour, to bid it smile,

Till superstitious horrour creeps o'er all.
And with the social spirit warm the heart? Or, frequent in the sounding hall, they wake
For though not sweeter his own Homer sings, The rural gambol. Rustic mirth goes round;
Yet is his life the more endearing song.

The simple joke that takes the shepherd's heart,
Where art thou, Hammond thou the darling Easily pleas'd; the long loud langb, sincere ;
The friend and lover of the tuneful throng! (pride, The kiss, snatch'd hasty from the side-long inaid,
Ah, why, dear youth, in all the blooming prime On purpose guardless, or pretending sleep:
Of vernal genius, where disclosing fast

The leap, the slap, the haul; and, shook to notes Each active worth, each manly virtue lay, Of native music, the respondent dance. Why wert thou ravish'd from our hope so soon? Thus jocund fleets with them the winter-night. What now avails that noble thirst of faine,

The city swarms intense. The public haunt, Which stung thy fervent breast? that treasur'd store Pull of each theme, and warm with mixt discourse, Of knowledge, carly gain'd ? that eager zeal Hums indistinct. The sons of riot flow To serve the country, glowing in the band Down the loose stream of false encbanted joy, Of youthful patriots, who sustain her name? To swift destruction. On the rankled soul What now, alas! that life-diffusing charn The gaming fury falls; and in one gulf Of sprightly wit? that rapture for the Muse, Of total ruin, honour, virtue, peace, That heart of friendship, and that soul of joy, Friends, families, and fortune, headlong sink. Which bade with softest light thy virtues smile? I'p-springs the dance along the lighted dome, Ah! only show'd, to check our fond pursuits, Mix'd and evolv'd, a thousand sprightly ways. And teach our humbled hopes that life is vain ! The glittering court effuses every pomp ;

Thus in some deep retirement would I pass The circle deepens : beam'd from gaudy robes, The winter-glooms, with friends of pliant soul, Tapers, and sparkling gems, and radiant eyes, Or blithe, or solemn, as the theme inspird : A soft effulgence o'er the palace waves : With them would search, if Nature's boundless Wbile, a gay insect in his summer-shine, frame

The fop, light-fluttering, spreads bis mealy wings Was call’d, late-rising from the void of night, Dread o'er the scene, the ghost of Hamlet stalks ; Or sprung eternal from th’ Eternal Mind; Othello rages; poor Monimia mourns ; Its life, its laws, its progress, and its end. And Belvidera pours her soul in love. Hence larger prospects of the beauteous whole Terrour alarms the breast; the comely tear Would, gradnal, open on our opening minds; Steals o'er the cheek: or else the comic Muse And each diffusive harmony unite

Holds to the world a picture of itself, In full perfection to th' astonish'd eye.

And raises sly the fair impartial laugh. Then would we try to scan the moral world, Sometimes she lifts her strain, and paints the scenes Which, though to us it seems embroil'd, moves on Of beauteous life; whate'er can deck mankind, In higher order; fitted, and impelld,

Or charm the heart, in generous Bevil' show'd. By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all

O, thou, whose wisdom, solid yet refin'd, In general good. "The sage historic Muse

Whose patriot-virtues, and consummate skill Should next conduct us through the deeps of time: To touch the finer springs that move the world, Show us how empire grew, declin'd, and fell, Join'd to whate'er the Graces can bestow, In scatter'd states; what make the nations sinile, And all Apollo's animating fire, Improves their soil, and gives them double suns; Give thce, with pleasing dignity, to shine And why they pine beneath the brightest skies, At once the guardian, ornament, and joy, In Nature's richest lap. As thus we talk'd, Of polish'd life; permit the rural Muse, Our hearts would burn within us, would inhale O Chesterfield, to grace with thee her song ! The portion of divinity, that ray

Ere to the shades again she humbly flies, Of purest Heaven, which lights the public soul Indulge her fond ambition, in thy train Of patriots, and of heroes. But if doom'd, (For every Muse has in thy train a place) In powerless humble fortune, to repress

To mark thy various full-accomplish'd mind : These ardent risings of the kindling soul ;

To mark that spirit, which, with British scorr, Then, ev'n superior to ambition, we

Rejects th' allurements of corrupted power ; Would learn the private virtues how to glide That elegant politeness, which excels, Through shades and plains, along the smoothest Ev'n in the judgment of presumptuous France, Of rural life: or snatch'd away by hope, (strcam The boasted manners of her shining court; Trongh the dim spaccs of futurity,

That wit, the vivid energy of sense, With earnest eye anticipate those scenes

The truth of Nature, which, with Attic point, Of happiness, and wonder; where the mind, And kind well-temper'd satire, smoothly keen, In endless growth and infinite ascent,

Steals through the soul, and without pain corrects
Rises from state to state, and world to world. Or, rising thence with yet a brighter flame,
But when with these the serious thought is foild, o, let me hail thee on some glorious day,
We, shifting for relief, would play the shapes When to the listening senate, ardent, crowd
Of frolic Fancy; and incessant form

Britannia's sons to hear her pleaded cause.
Those rapid pictures, that assembled train
Of fleet ideas, never join'd before,

' A character in the Conscious Lovers, written Whence lively Wit excites to gay surprise ; by sir Richard Steele,

Then drest by thee, more amiably fair,

Wide-spouted o'er the hill, the frozen brook, Truth the soft robe of mild persuasion wears : A livid tract, cold-gleaming on the morn; Thou to assenting reason giv'st again [heart, | The forest bent beneath the plumy wave; Her own enlighten'd thoughts; calld from the And by the frost retin'd the whiter suow, Th' obedient passions on thy voice attend;

Incrusted hard, and sourding to the tread And ev'n reluctant party feels a while

Of early shepherd, as he pensive seeks Thy gracious power: as through the varied maze His pining flock, or from the inountaiu top, Of eloquence, now smooth, now quick, now strong, Pleas'd with the slippery surface, swift descends. Profound and clear, you roll the copious flood. On blithsome frolicks bent, the youthful swains,

To thy lov'd haunt return, my happy Muse : While every work of man is laid at rest, For now, behold, the joyous winter-days,

Fond o'er the river crowd, in various sport Frosty, succeed; and through the blue serene, And revelry dissolv'd; where mixing glad, For sight too fine, th' etherial nitre flies;

Happiest of all the train the raptur'd boy Killing infectious damps, and the spent air Lasizes the whirling top. Or, where the Rhine Storing afresh with elemental life.

Branch'd out in many a long canal extends, Close crowds the shining atmosphere; and binds from every province swarming, void of care, Our strengthen’d bodies in its cold embrace, Batavia rushes forth ; and as they sweep, Constringent ; feeds, and animates our blood ; On sounding skates, a thousand different ways, Refines our spirits, through the new-strung nerves, In circling poise, swi as the winds, along, In swifter sallies darting to the brain ;

The then gay land is madden'd all to joy. Where sits the soul, intense, collected, cool, Nor less the northern courts, wide o'er the snow, Bright as the skies, and as the season keen. Pour a new pomp. Eager, on rapid sleds, All Nature feels the renovating force

Their vigorous youth in bold contention wheel Of Winter, only to the thoughtless eye

The long resounding course. Meantime, to raise In ruin seen. The frost-concocted glebe

The manly strife, with highly blooining charms, Draws in abundant vegetable soul,

Flush'd by the season, Scandinavia's dames, And gathers vigour for the coming year.

Or Russia's buxom daughters glow around. A stronger glow sits on the lively cheek

Pure, quick, and sportful, is the wholesome day; Of ruddy fire: and luculent along

But soon elaps'd. The horizontal Sim, The purer rivers flow; their sullen deeps,

Broad o'er the south, hangs at his utmost noon: Transparent, open to the shepherd's gaze,

And, ineffectual, strikes the gelid cliff: And murmur hoarser at the fixing frost.

His azure gloss the mountain still maintains, What art thou, frost ? and whence are thy keen Nor feels the feeble touch. Perhaps the vale Derir'd, thou secret all-invading power, (stores Relents a while to the reflected ray ; Whom ev'n th' illusive Auid cannot fly?

Or from the forest falls the cluster'd snow, Is not thy potent energy, unseen,

Myriads of gems, that in the waving gleam Myriads of little salts, or hook'd, or shap'd Gay-twinkle as they scatter. Thick around Like double wedges, and diffus'd immense

Thunders the sport of those, who with the gun, Through water, earth, and ether? Hence at eve, And dog impatient boundling at the shot, Steam'd eager froin the red horizon round, Worse than the season, desolate the fields : With the fierco rage of Winter deep sutsus'd, And, adding to the ruins of the year, An icy gale, oit shifting, o'er the pool

Distress the footed or the feather'd game. Breathes a blue filin, and in its mid career

But what is this? Our infant Winter sinks, Arrests the bickeriny stream. The loosen'd ice, Divested of his grandeur, should our eye Let down the flood, and half dissolv'd by day, Astonish'd shoot into the frigid zone ; Rustles no more ; but to the sedgy bank

Where, for relentless months, continual Night Fast grows, or gathers round the pointed stone, Holds o'er the glittering waste ber starry reign. A crystal pavement, by the breath of Heaven There, through the prison of unbounded wilds, Cemented firm; till, seiz'd from shore to shore, Barr’d by the hand of Nature from escape, The whole imprison'd river growls below.

Wide roams the Russian exile. Nought around Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects Strikes his sad eye, but deserts lost in snow; A double noise ; while, at his evening waich, And heavy-loaded groves; and solid floods, The village dog deters the nightly thief;

That stretch'd, athwart the solitary vast, The heiter lows; the distant water-fall

Their icy horrours to the frozen main ; Swells in the breeze ; and, with the hasty tread And cheerless towns far-distant, never bless'd, Of traveller, the hollow-sounding plain

Save when its annual course the caravan Shakes from aíar. The full ethereal round, Bends to the golden coast of rich Cathay”, Infinite worlds disclosing to the view,

With news of human-kiud. Yet there life glows: Shines out intensely keen ; and, all one cope Yet cherish'd there, beneath the shining waste, Of starry glitter, glows from pole to pole.

The furry nations harbour: tipt with jet, From pole to pole the rigid induence falls,

Fair ermines, sportless as the snows they press ; Through the still night, incessant, heavy, strong, Sables, of glossy black; and dark-embrown'd, And seizes Nature fast. It freezes on;

Or beauteous freakt with many a mingled hue, Till Morn, late-rising o'er the drooping world, Thousands besides, the costly pride of courtso Lifts her pale eye unjoyous. Then appears There, warm together press'd, the trooping deer The various labour of the silent Night:

Sleep on the new-fall’n snows; and, scarce his Prone from the dripping cave, and dumb cascade,

head Whose idle torrents only seem to roar,

Rais'd o'er the heapy wreath, the branching elk The pendent icicle; the frost-work fair, Where transient hues and fancy'd figures rise ,

The old name for China.

Lies slumbering sullen in the white abyss. And fring'd with roses Tenglio' rolls his stream,
The ruthless hunter wants nor dogs nor toils, They draw the copious fry. With these, at ere,
Nor with the dread of sounding hows he drives They cheerful loaded to their tents repair;
The fearful flying race: with ponderous clubs, Where, all day long in useful care employ'd,
As weak against the mountain heaps they push

Their kind unblemish'd wives the fire prepare.
Their beating breast in vain, and piteous bray, Thrice happy race! by poverty secur'd
He lays them quivering on th' ensanguin'd snows, From legal plunder and rapacious power:
And with loud shouts rejoicing bears them home. In whom fell interest never yet has sown
There through the piny forest half-absorpt, The seeds of vice: whose spotless swains ne'er kner
Rough tenant of these shades, the shapeless bear, Injurious deed, nor, blasted by the breath
With dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn; Of faithless love, their blooming daughters woe.
Slow-plac'd, and sourer as the storms increase, Still pressing on, beyond Tornea's lake,
He makes his bed beneath th' inclement drift, And Hecla flaming through a waste of snow,
And, with stern patience, scorning weak complaint, And farthest Greenland, to the pole itself,
Hardens bis heart against assailing want.

Where, failing gradual, life at length goes out, Wide v'er the spacious regions of the north, The Muse expands her solitary fight; Tiiat sees Baötes urge his tardy wain,

And, hovering o’er the wild stupendous scene, A boisterous race, by frosty Caurus' pierc'd, Beholds new seas beneath another sky?. WI little pleasure know, and fear no pain, Thron'd in his palace of cerulean ice, Prolific swarm. They once relum'd the faine Here Winter holds his unrejoicing court; Of lost mankind in polish'd slavery sonk,

And through his airy hall the loud misrule Drove martial horde on horde', with dreadful sweep of driving tempest is for ever heard : Resistless rusling o'er th' enfeebled south,

Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath; And gave the vapquish'd world another form.' Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost; Not such the sons of Lapland: wisely they

Moulds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows Despise th' insensate barbarous trade of war; With which he now oppresses half the globe. They ask no more than simple Nature gives,

Thence winding eastward to the Tartar's coast, They love their mountains, and enjoy their storms. She sweeps the howling margin of the main; No false desires, no pride-created wants,

Where undissolving, from the first of time, Disturb the peaceful current of their time, Snows swell on snows amazing to the sky ; And through the restless ever-tortur'd maze And icy mountains, high on mountains pild, Of pleasure, or ambition, bid it rage.

Seem to the shivering sailor from afar, Their reindeer form their riches. These their tents, Shapeless and white, an atmosphere of clouds Their robes, their beds, and all their homely ivealth Projected hnge, and horrid, o'er the surge, Supply, their wholesome fare, and eheerful cups. Alps frown on Alps, or rushing hideous down, Obsequious at their call, the docile tribe

As if old Chaos was again return'd, Yield to the sled their necks, and whirl them swift Wide-rend the deep, and shake the solid pole. O'er hill and dale, heap'd into one expanse

Ocean itself no longer can resist Of marbled snow, as far as eye can sweep

The binding fury; but, in all its rage With a blue crust of ice unboun:led glaz'd. Of tempest, taken by the boundless frost, By dancing meteors then, that ceaseless shake Is many a fathom to the bottom chain'd, A waving blaze refracted o'er the heavens,

And bid to roar 50 more: a bleak expanse, And vivid moons, and stars that keener play Shagg'd o’er with wavy rocks, cheerless, and void With double lustre from the glossy waste,

Of every life, that from the dreary months Ev'rr in the depth of polar night, they find

Flies conscious southward. Miserable they, A wondrous day: enough to light the chase, Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, Or guide their daring steps to Finland fairs. Take their last look of the descending Sun; Wish'd Spring returns; and from the hazy south, Wbile, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost, While dim Aurora slow ly moves before,

The long long night, incumbent o'er their heads, The welcome Sun, just verging up at first,

Falls horrible. Such was the Britou's' fate, By small degrees extends the swelling curve! As with first prow, (what have not Britons dar'd!) Till seen at large for gay rejoicing months, He for the passage sought, attempted since Still round and round, his spiral course he winds, So much in vain, and seeming to be shut And as he nearly dips his faming orh,

By jealous Nature with eterial bars. Wheels up again, and reascends the sky.

In these fell regions, in Arzina caught, In that glad season from the lakes and floovis, And to the stony deep his idle ship Where pure Nieini's ' faiiy mountains rise,

Immediate seal'd, he with his hapless crew,

Each full-exerted at his several task, · The north-west wind.

I'roze into statues; to the cordage glued 2 The wandering Scythian clans.

Tbe sailor, and the pilot to the helm. * M. de Maupertuis, in his book on the figure of Haril by the se shures, where scarce his freezing the Earth, after having described the beautiful lake

Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of med; (streath and mountain of Nienu in Lapland, says,-“ From And half-enliveu'd by the distant Sun, this height we had opportunity several tiines to

"The same author observas." I was surprized see those vapours rise from the lake, which the people of the country call Haltios, and which they roses of as lively a red as any that are in our

to see upon the banks of this river (the Tenglio) deem to be the guardian spirits of the mountains.

gardens." We had been frighted with stories of bears that The other hemisphere. haunted this place, but saw none. It seemned rather a place of resort for Pairies and Genii, thau

Sir Hugh Willoughbr, sent by queen Elizabeth

3

That rears and ripens man, as well as plants, Th' assembled mischiefs that besiege them round? Here human nature wears its rudest form,

Heart-grawing hunger, fainting weariness, Deep from the piercing season sunk in cares, The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice, Here hy dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer, Now ceasing, now renew'd with louder rage, They waste the tedious gloom. Iinmers'd in furs, And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. Doze the gross race. Nor sprightly jest, nor song, More to embroil the deep, Leviathan Nor tenderness they know; nor anght of life, And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, Beyond the kindred bears that stalk witheut. Tempest the loosen'd brine, while through the Till Morn at length, her roses drooping all, Far from the bleak inhospitable shore, [gloom, Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their fields, Loading the wiuds, is heard the hungry howl And calls the quiverd savage to the chase. Of famish'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks.

What cannot active government perform, Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye, New-moulding man? Wide-stretching from these Looks down with pity on the feeble toil A people savage from remotest time, (shores, | Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe, A huge neglected empire, one vast mind, Through all this dreary labyrinth of fate. By Heaven inspir'd, from Gothic darkness call'd. 'Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest Immortal Peter! first of monarchs! He

glooms, His stubborn country tam’d, her rocks, her fens, And reigns treinendous o'er the conquer'd year. Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting sons; How dead the vegetable kingdom lies ! And while the fierce barbarian he subdued, How dumb the tuneful! Horrour wide extends To more exalted soul he rais'd the man.

His desolate domain. Behold, fond inan! Ye shades of ancient heroes, ye who toil'd

See here thy pictur'd life; pass some few years, Through long successive ages to build up

Thy lowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent A labouring plan of state, behold at once

Thy sober Autumn fading into age, [strength, The wonder done! behold the matchless prince! And pale concluding Winter comes at last, Who left his native throne, where reigo'd till then And shuts the scene. Ah! whither now are fled, A mighty shadow of unreal power;

Those dreams of greatness? those unsolid hopes Who greatly spurn'd the slothful pomp of courts; Of happiness? those longings after fame? And, roaming every land, in every port

Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? His sceptre laid aside, with glorious hand, Those gay-spent, festive nights. those veering Unwearied plying the mechanic tool,

thoughts, Gather'd the seeds of trade, of useful arts, Lost between good and ill, that shar'd thy life? Of civil wisdom, and of martial skill.

All now are vanish'd! Virtue sole survives,
Charg'd with the stores of Europe, home he goes; Immortal never-failing friend of man,
Then cities rise amid th'illumin'd waste;

His guide to happiness on high. And see!
O'er joyless deserts smiles the rural reign ;

'Tis come, the glorious morn! the second birth Far distant flood to food is social join'd;

Of Heaven and Earth! awakening Nature hears Th' astonish'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar; The new-creating word, and starts to life, Proud navies ride on seas that never foam'd In every heighten'd form, from pain and death With daring kecl before; and armies stretch For ever free. The great cternal scheme, Each way their dazzling files, repressing here Involving all, and in a perfect whole The frantic Alexander of the north,

Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads, And awing there stern Othman's shrinking sons. To reason's eye refin'd clears up apace. Sloth fies the land, and Ignorance, and l'ice, Ye vainly wise! ye blind presumptuous! now, Of old dishonour proud : it glows around,

Confounded in the dust, adore that Power,
Taught by the royal hand that rouz'd the whole, And Wisdom oft arraign'd: see now the cause,
One scene of arts, of arms, of rising trade : Why unassuming Worth in secret liv'd,
For what his wisdoin plann'd, and power enforc'd, And dy'd neglected : why the good man's share
More potent still, his great erample show'd. In life was gall and bitterness of soul :

Muttering, the winds at eve, with blupted point, Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd
Blow hollow-blustering from the south. Subdued, In starving solitude ; while Luxury,
The frost resolves into a trickling thaw.

In palaces, lay straining her low thought,
Spotted the mountains shine ; Joose sleet descends, To form unreal wants : why heaven-born Truth,
And floods the country round. The rivers swell, And Moderation fair, wore the red marks
Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills, Of Superstition's scourge : why licens'd Pain,
O’er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts, That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe,
A thousand snow-fert torrents shoot at once ; Imbitter'd all our bliss. Ye good distrest !
And, where they rush, the wide-resounding plain Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Is left one slimy waste. Those sullen seas, Reneath life's pressure, yet bear up a while,
That wash'd th’ ungenial pole, will rest no more And what your bounded view, which only saw
Beneath the shackles of the mighty north;

A little part, deem'd evil, is no more : But, rousing all their waves, resistless heave. The storms of Wintery Time will quickly pass, And hark: the lengthening roar continuous runs And one unbounded Spring encircle all. Athwart the rifted deep: at once it bursts, And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds. Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charg'd, That, tost amid the floating fragments, moors

A HYи. Beneath the shelter of an icy isle, While night o'erwhelms the sea, and horrour looks Tuese, as they change. Almighty Father, these, More horrible. Can human force endure

Are but the varied God. The rolling year

Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Breathe rour still song into the reaper's heart, Thy beanty walks, thy tenderness and love. Is home he goes beneath the joyous Moon. Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm ; Ye that keep watch in Heaven, as Earth asleep Echo the mountains mund; the forest smiles ; l'nconscious lies, effuse your mildest beains, And every sense, and every heart, is joy.

Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Then comes thy glory in the Summer-months, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. With light and heat refulgent. Then thy Sun Great source of day! best image here below Shoots full perfection through the swelling year : Of thy (rcator, ever pouring wide, And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks ; From world to world, the vital ocean round, And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, On Nature write with every beam his praise. By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales. The thunder rolls: be hush'd the prostrate world; Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfin'd, While cloud to cloud retiirns the solemn hymn. And spreads a common feast for all that lives. Bleat out afresh, ye hills: ye mossy rocks, In Winter awful thou! with clonds and storms Retain the sound: the broad responsive lowe, Around thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest rolld, Ye valljes, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns; Majestic darkness ! on the whirlwind's wing, And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. Riding sublime, thou bidst the world adore, Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song And humblest nature with thy northern blast. Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day,

Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train, Sweetest of birds! sweet Philomela, charn Yet so delightful mix'd, with such kind art, The listening shades, and teach the night his praise. Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;

Ye chief, for whom the whole creation smiles, Shade, unperceiv’d, so softening into shade ; At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all, And all so forming an harmonious whole ; Crown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast, That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. Assembled men, to the deep organ join But wandering oft, with baute unconscious gaze, The long-resounding voice, oft-breaking clear, Man marks not thee, marks not the mighty hand, At solemn pauses, through the swelling base; That ever-busy, wheels, the silent spheres; And, as each mingling flame increases each, Works in the secret deep ; shoots, steaming, thence In one united arlour rise to Heaven. The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring: Or if you rather chuse the rural shade, Flings from the Sun direct the flaming day; And find a fame in every secret grove; Feeds every creature; hurls the tempests forth; There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, And, as on Earth this grateful change revolves, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, With transport touches all the springs of life. Still sing the God of Seasons, as they roll. Nature, attend! join every living soul,

For me, when I forget the darling theme, Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,

Whether the blossom blows, the Snmmer-ray In adoration join ; and, ardent, raise

Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams; One general song! To hirn, ye rocal gales, Or Winter rises in the blackening east; Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your freshness Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, Oh, talk of him in solitary clnoms! [breathes: And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat. Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine Should Fate command me to the farthest rerge Filis the brown shade with a religions awe. Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, And ye, whose bolder not, is heard afar,

Rivers unknown to song; where first the Sun Whoshake th' astonish'd world, lift high to Heaven Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Th' impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. Flames op th’ Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me; His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; Since God is ever present, ever felt, And let me catch it as I muse along.

In the void waste as in the city full; Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound; And where he vital breathes, there must be joy. Ye softer foods, that lead the humid maze When er'n at last tbe solemn hour should come, Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,

And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, A secret world of wonders in thyself,

I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers,
Sound bis stupendons praise; whose greater voice Will rising wonders sing : I cannot go
Or bids your roar, or bids your roarings fall. Where Universal Love not smiles around,
Soft roll your incense, herbs and fruits, and Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns;
flowers,

Froin seeming evil still educing good,
In mingled clouds to him ; whose Sun exalts, And better thence again, and better still,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil In infinite progression. But I lose
paints.

Myself in him, in Light ineffable ;
Ye forests ye harvests ware, to him; Come then, expressive Silence, muse his praise