HESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER,
thefe,
Are but the varied GoD. The rolling Year
Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring
THY Beauty walks, THY Tenderness and Love.
Wide-flush the Fields; the foftening Air is Balm;
Echo the Mountains round; the Foreft fmiles;
And every Senfe, 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 fwelling Year :
And oft THY Voice in dreadful Thunder speaks ;
And oft at Dawn, deep Noon, or falling Eve,
By Brooks and Groves, in hollow-whispering Gales.
THY Bounty fines in Autumn unconfin'd,
And fpreads a common Feast for all that lives.
In Winter awful THOU! with Clouds and Storms
Around THE thrown, Tempeft o'er Tempest roll'd,
Majestic Darkness! on the Whirlwind's Wing,
Riding fublime, THOU bidft the World adore,
And humbleft Nature with THY northern Blaft.
MYSTERIOUS Round! what Skill, what Force divine, Deep-felt, in These appear! a fimple Train, Yet fo delightful mix'd, with fuch kind Art, Such Beauty and Beneficence combin'd; Shade, unperceiv'd, fo foftening into Shade; And all fo forming an harmonious Whole; That, as they ftill fucceed, they ravish still. But wandering oft, with brute unconscious Gaze, Man marks not THEE, marks not the mighty Hand, That, ever-bufy, wheels the filent Spheres ; Works in the fecret Deep; fhoots, fteaming, Thence The fair Profufion that o'erfpreads the Spring: Flings from the Sun direct the flaming Day; Feeds every Creature; hurls the Tempest forth; And, as on Earth this grateful Change revolves, With Transport touches all the Springs of Life.
NATURE, attend! join every living Soul,
Beneath the spacious Temple of the Sky,
In Adoration join; and, ardent, raise
One general Song! To Him, ye vocal Gales,
Breathe foft, whofe SPIRIT in your Freshness breathes a Oh talk of HIM in folitary Glooms!
Where, o'er the Rock, the fcarcely-waving Pine
Fills the brown Shade with a religious Awe.
And ye, Whose bolder Note is heard afar,
Who shake th' aftonish'd World, lift high to Heaven
Th' impetuous Song, and fay from whom you rage.
His Praise, ye Brooks, attune, ye trembling Rills;
And let me catch it as I muse along.
Ye headlong Torrents, rapid, and profound;
Ye fofter Floods, that lead the humid Maze
Along the Vale; and thou, majeftic Main,
A fecret World of Wonders in thyself,
Sound His ftupendous Praise; whofe greater Voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your Roarings fall.
55 ›
Soft-roll your Incense, Herbs, and Fruits, and Flowers,
In mingled Clouds to HIM; whofe Sun exalts,
Whofe Breath perfumes you, and whofe Pencil paints~
Ye Forests bend, ye Harvests wave, to HIм;
Breathe your ftill Song into the Reaper's Heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous Moon.
Ye that keep watch in Heaven, as Earth asleep
Unconscious lies, effufe your mildest Beams,
Ye Constellations, while your Angels ftrike,
Amid the fpangled Sky, the filver Lyre.
Great Source of Day! beft Image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
From World to World, the vital Ocean round,
On Nature write with every Beam His Praise.
The Thunder rolls: be hufh'd the proftrate World; 70
While Cloud to Cloud returns the folemn Hymn.
Bleat out afresh, ye Hills; ye moffy Rocks,
Retain the Sound: the broad refponfive Low,
Ye Valleys, raife; for the GREAT SHEPHERD reigns;
And his unfuffering Kingdom yet will come.
Ye Woodlands all, awake: a boundless Song
Burft from the Groves; and when the restless Day,
Expiring, lays the warbling World asleep,
Sweetest of Birds! fweet Philomela, charm
The liftening Shades, and teach the Night H Is Praife. 80
Ye chief, for whom the whole Creation fmiles;
At once the Head, the Heart, and Tongue of all,
Crown the great Hymn! in fwarming Cities vaft,
Affembled Men, to the deep Organ join
The long-refounding Voice, oft-breaking clear,
At folemn Paufes, thro the fwelling Bafe;
And, as each mingling Flame increases each,..
In one united Ardor rife to Heaven:
Or if you rather chufe the rural Shade,
And find a Fane in every facred Grove;
There let the Shepherd's Flute, the Virgin's Lay,
The prompting Seraph, and the Poet's Lyre,
Still fing the GOD OF SEASONS, as they roll.
For me, when I forget the darling Theme,
Whether the Bloffom blows, the Summer-Ray
Ruffets the Plain, infpiring Autumn gleams;
Or Winter rifes in the blackening Eaft;
Be my Tongue mute, may Fancy paint no more,
And, dead to Joy, forget my Heart to beat!
SHOULD Fate command me to the fartheft Verge 100
Of the green Earth, to distant barbarous Climes,
Rivers unknown to Song; where first the Sun
Gilds Indian Mountains, or his fetting Beam
Flames on th' Atlantic Ifles; 'tis nought to me :
Since GOD is ever present, ever felt,
In the void Waste as in the City full;
And where Hɛ vital fpreads there must be Joy.
When even at laft the folemn Hour shall come,
And wing my myftic Flight to future Worlds,
I chearful will obey, There, with new Powers,
Will rifing Wonders fing: I cannot go
Where UNIVERSAL LOVE not fmiles around,
Sustaining all yon Orbs and all their Sons,
From feeming Evil ftill educing Good,
And Better thence again, and Better still,
In infinite Progreffion.
Myfelf in HIM, in LIGHT INEFFABLE!
Come then, expreffive Silence, mufe His Praife.
|