Hymen beckons to Fancy, and points out his home,
Far removed from the world's giddy riot;
Where, nor envy, nor pride, nor anxiety comes,
The mansion of elegant quiet.
Where change still shall heighten each innocent bliss,
Save good humour, unchangeably even Conversation and study, we never shall miss, Friends around us, and favouring heaven.
THE TEMPESTUOUS EVENING.
THERE'S grandeur in the sounding storm,
Which drives the hurrying clouds along,
That on each other closely throng,
And mix in many a varied form.
While, bursting now and then between,
The moon's dim, misty, orb is seen
Casting faint glimpses on the green.
Beneath the blast, the forest bends,
And thick the branchy ruin lies;
And wide the shower of foliage flies ;
The dark blue waves in tumult blend;
Revolving swiftly o'er and o'er,
And foaming on the rocky shore,
Whose caverns echo to their roar.
The sight sublime transports my thought,
And swift along the past, it strays;
And much of strange events surveys;
What histories faithful pens have taught,
Or fancy form'd; whose plastic skill,
The page of fabled change can fill
Of ill to good, or good to ill.
But can the soul a scene enjoy
That rends another's breast with pain?
O hapless he, who near the main,
Now sees its billowy rage destroy
Beholds the found'ring bark descend,
Nor knows but that its fate may end
The moments of his dearest friend.
EVENING SUCCEEDED BY NIGHT.
CONFESS'D, from yonder slow extinguish'd clouds,
All æther softening, sober evening takes
Her wonted station in the middle air;
A thousand shadows at her beck.
She sends on earth; then that of deeper dye
Steals soft behind; and then a deeper still,
In circle following circle, gathers round,
To close the face of things. A fresher gale
Begins to wave the wood, and stir the stream,
Sweeping, with shadowy gust, the fields of corn;
While the quail clamours for his running mate.
Wide o'er the thistly lawn, as swells the breeze,
A whit'ning shower of vegetable down
Of Nature nought disdains; thoughtful to feed
Her lowest sons, and clothe the coming year,
From field to field, the feather'd seeds she wings.
His folded flock secure, the shepherd home
Hies merry-hearted, and by turns, relieves
The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming pail.
Onward they pass o'er many a panting height,
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.
Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge,
The glowworm lights his gem, and through the dark,
A moving radiance twinkles. Evening yields
The world to night; not in her winter robe
Of massy Stygian woof, but loose array'd
In mantle dun. A faint erroneous ray
Glanc'd from the imperfect surfaces of things,
Flings half an image on the straining eye;
While wavering woods, and villages, and streams,
And rocks, and mountain-tops, that long retain'd
The ascending gleam, are all one swimming scene,
Uncertain if beheld. Sudden to heaven,
Thence, weary vision turns; where, leading soft,
The silent hours of night, with purest ray,
Sweet Venus shines, and from her genial rise,
When day-light sickens till it spring afresh,
Unrivall'd reigns the fairest lamp of night.
As thus, the effulgence tremulous, I drink
With cherish'd gaze, the lambent lightnings shoot
Across the sky, or horizontal dart
In wond'rous shapes, by 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,
Returning with accelerated course,
The rushing comet to the sun descends,
And as he sinks below the shading earth,
With awful train projected o'er the heavens,
The guilty nations tremble. But, above
Those superstitious horrors that enslave
The fond sequacious herd, to mystic faith
And blind amazement prone, the enlighten'd few,
Whose godlike minds philosophy exalts,
The glorious stranger hail. They feel a joy
Divinely great; they, in their powers exult,
That wondrous force of thought, which mounting
This dusky spot, and measures all the sky:
While from his far excursion through the wilds
Of barren æther, faithful to his time,
They see the blazing wonder rise anew
In seeming terror clad, but kindly bent,
To work the will of all sustaining love;
From his huge vapoury train, perhaps to shake
Reviving moisture on the numerous orbs
Through which his long ellipses winds; perhaps
To lend new fuel to declining suns,
To light up worlds, and feed the eternal fire.
STILL Twilight, welcome! Rest, how sweet art thou!
Now eve o'erhangs the western cloud's thick brow!
The far stretch'd curtain of retiring light,
With fiery treasures fraught, that on the sight
Flash from its bulging sides, where darkness lours,
In Fancy's eye, a chain of mouldering towers;
Or craggy coasts just rising into view,
Midst javelins dire, and darts of streaming blue.
And now tir'd lab'rers bless their sheltering home;
When darkness and the frightful tempest come.
The farmer starts, and sees, with silent dread,
The angry shafts of heaven flash round his head.
The bursting cloud reiterated roars,
Shakes his straw roof, and jars his bolted doors.
The slow-wing'd storm along the troubled skies,
Spreads its dark course; the winds begin to rise;
And full leaf'd elms, his dwelling's shade by day,
With mimic thunder, gives its fury way;
Sounds in his chimney top a doleful peal,
Midst pouring rain, or gusts of rattling hail;
With tenfold danger, low the tempest bends,
And quick, and strong, the sulphurous flame
descends.
The frighten'd mastiff from his kennel flies,
And cringes at the door with piteous cries.
Where's now the trifler? where the child of pride?
These are the moments when the heart is tried!
Nor lives the man, with conscience e'er so clear,
But feels a solemn, reverential fear;
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