The hills and dales, and the delightful woods,
The flowery plains, and filver-ftreaming floods,
By fnow difguis'd, in bright confufion lie,
And with one dazzling waste fatigue the eye.
No gentle breathing breeze prepares the fpring,
No birds within the defert region fing.
The ships, unmov'd, the boisterous winds defy,
While rattling chariots o'er the ocean fly.
The vaft Leviathan wants room to play,
And spout his waters in the face of day.
The ftarving wolves along the main fea prowl,
And to the moon in icy valleys howl.
O'er many a fhining league the level main
Here fpreads itself into a glaffy plain :
There folid billows of enormous fize,
Alps of green ice, in wild diforder rise.
And yet but lately have I feen, ev'n here,
The winter in a lovely dress appear.
Ere yet the clouds let fall the treafur'd fnow,
Or winds begun through hazy skies to blow,
At evening a keen eastern breeze arose,
And the defcending rain unfully'd froze.
Soon as the filent faades of night withdrew,
The ruddy morn difclos'd at once to view
The face of Nature in a rich disguise,
And brighten'd every object to my eyes:
For every shrub, and every blade of grass,
And every pointed thorn, feem'd wrought in glass;
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show,
While through the ice the crimfon berries glow.
The thick-fprung reeds, which watery marshes yield,
Seem'd polish'd lances in a hostile field.
The tag, in limpid currents, with furprize,
Sees crystal branches on his forehead rife :
The spreading oak, the beech, and towering pine,
Glaz'd over, in the freezing æther fhine.
The frighted birds the rattling branches fhun,
Which wave and glitter in the distant fun.
When if a fudden guft of wind arife,
The brittle foreft into atoms flies,
The crackling wood beneath the tempeft bends,
And in a fpangled fhower the profpect ends :
Or, if a fouthern gale the region warm,
And by degrees unbind the wintery charm,
The traveller a miry country fees,
And journeys fad beneath the dropping trees:
Like fome deluded peasant, Merlin leads
Through fragrant bowers, and through delicious meads, While here inchanted gardens to him rise,
And airy fabricks there attract his eyes,
His wandering feet the magic paths purfue,
And, while he thinks the fair illufion true,
The trackless scenes disperse in fluid air,
And woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear,
A tedious road the weary wretch returns,
And, as he goes, the tranfient vifion mourns.
To the Right Honourable CHARLES Lord HALIFAX, one of the Lords Juftices appointed by his Majefty. 1714.
ATRON of verse, O Halifax, attend,
The Mufe's favourite, and the Poet's friend!
Approaching joys my ravish'd thoughts infpire:
I feel the transport; and my foul 's on fire!
Again Britannia rears her awful head:
Her fears, tranfplanted, to her foes are fled.
Again her standard she displays to view;
And all its faded lilies bloom anew.
Here beauteous Liberty falutes the fight,
Still pale, nor yet recover'd of her fright,
Whilft here Religion, fmiling to the skies,
Her thanks expreffes with up-lifted eyes.
But who advances next, with chearful grace,
Joy in her eye, and plenty in her face?
A wheaten garland does her head adorn,
O Property! O goddefs, English-born!
Where haft thou been? How did the wealthy mourn !
The bankrupt nation figh'd for thy return,
Doubtful for whom her spreading funds were fill'd,
Her fleets were freighted, and her field were till'd. 20
No longer now shall France and Spain combin'd,
Strong in their golden Indies, awe mankind.
Brave Catalans, who for your freedom strive,
And in your shatter'd bulwarks yet survive,
For you alone, worthy a better fate,
O, may this happy change not come too late!
Great in your fufferings !-But, my Mufe, forbear;
Nor damp the public gladness with a tear:
The hero has receiv'd their juft complaint,
Grac'd with the name of our fam'd patron-saint:
Like him, with pleasure he foregoes his rest,
And longs, like him, to fuccour the diftrefs'd.
Firm to his friends, tenacious of his word,
As juftice calls, he draws or fheaths the fword:
Matur'd by thought, his councils fhall prevail;
Nor fhall his promife to his people fail.
He comes, defire of nations! England's boaft!
Already has he reach'd the Belgian coaft.
Our great deliverer comes! and with him brings
A progeny of late-fucceeding kings,
Fated to triumph o'er Britannia's foes
In diftant years, and fix the world's repofe.
The floating fquadrons now approach the fhore;
Loft in the failors fhouts, the cannons roar:
And now, behold, the fovereign of the main,
High on the deck, amidst his fhining train,
Surveys the subject flood. An eastern gale
Plays through the shrouds, and fwells in every fail: 48 Th' obfequious waves his new dominion own,
And gently waft their monarch to his throne.
Now the glad Britons hail their king to land,
Hang on the rocks, and blacken all the ftrand:
But who the filent extafy can show,
The paffions which in nobler bofoms glow?
Who can defcribe the godlike patriot's zeal?
Or who, my Lord, your generous joys reveal?
Ordain'd, once more, our treasure to advance,
Retrieve our trade, and fink the pride of France,
Once more the long-neglected arts to raise,
And form each rifing genius for the bays.
Accept the prefent of a grateful song;
This prelude may provoke the learned throng:
To Cam and Ifis fhall the joyful news,
By me convey'd, awaken every Mufe.
Ev'n now the vocal tribe in verse conspires;
And I already hear their founding lyres:
To them the mighty labour I refign,
Give the Theme, and quit the tuneful Nine.
So when the fpring first smiles among the trees,
And bloffoms open to the vernal breeze,
The watchful nightingale, with early strains,
Summons the warblers of the woods and plains,
But drops her mufick, when the choir appear,
And liftens to the concert of the year.
To the Honourable JAMES CRAGGS, Efq; Secretary at War, at Hampton-Court. 1717.
HOUGH Britain's hardy troops demand your care,
And chearful friends your hours of leisure share ;
O, Craggs, for candour known! indulge awhile
My fond defire, and on my labour smile :
Nor count it always an abuse of time
To read a long epiftle, though in rhyme.
|