Strow'd bibulous above I fee the fands,
The pebbly gravel next, the layers then
Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths,
The gutter'd rocks and mazy-running clefts;
That, while the stealing moisture they transmit,
Retard its motion, and forbid its waste.
Beneath th' inceffant weeping of these drains,
I fee the rocky fiphons stretch'd immense,
The mighty refervoirs, of hardened chalk,
Or ftiff compacted clay, capacious form'd.
O'erflowing thence, the congregated stores,
The crystal treasures of the liquid world,
Thro' the ftirr'd fands a bubbling paffage burft;
And welling out, around the middle steep,
Or from the bottoms of the bosom❜d hills,
In pure effufion flow. United, thus,
Th' exhaling fun, the vapour-burden'd air,
The gelid mountains, that to rain condens'd
Thefe vapours in continual current draw,
And fend them, o'er the fair-divided earth,
In bounteous rivers to the deep again,
A focial commerce hold, and firm support
The full-adjusted harmony of things.
When Autumn scatters his departing gleams, Warn'd of approaching Winter, gathered, play
The swallow-people; and tofs'd wide around,
O'er the calm fky, in convolution swift,
The feathered eddy floats: rejoicing once,
Ere to their wintry flumbers they retire;
In clusters clung, beneath the mouldring bank,
And where, unpierc'd by froft, the cavern sweats,
Or rather into warmer climes convey'd,
With other kindred birds of season, there
They twitter cheerful, till the vernal months
Invite them welcome back: for, thronging, now
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 ftrong
Unconquerable hand of Liberty,
The ftork-affembly meets; for many a day,
Confulting deep, and various, ere they take
Their arduous voyage thro' the liquid sky.
And now their rout defign'd, their leaders chofe,
Their tribes adjufted, clean'd their vigorous wings;
And many a circle, many a fhort effay,
Wheel'd round and round, in congregation full
The figur'd flight afcends; and, riding high
The aërial billows, mixes with the clouds.
Or where the Northern ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked melancholy ifles
Of fartheft Thulè, and the Atlantic furge
Pours in among the ftormy Hebrides;
Who can recount what tranfmigrations there
Are annual made? what nations come and go?
And how the living clouds on clouds arise?
Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air,
And rude refounding shore are one wild cry.
Here the plain harmless native his small flock,
And herd diminutive of many hues,
Tends on the little island's verdant fwell,
The fhepherd's fea-girt reign; or, to the rocks
Dire-clinging, gathers his ovarious food;
Or fweeps the fishy fhore; or treasures up
The plumage, rifing full, to form the bed
Of luxury. And here a while the Muse,
High hovering o'er the broad cerulean scene,
Sees CALEDONIA, in romantic view:
Her airy mountains, from the waving main,
Invested with a keen diffufive sky,
Breathing the foul acute; her forefts huge,
Incult, robuft, and tall, by Nature's hand
Planted of old; her azure lakes between,
Pour'd out extenfive, and of watry wealth
Full; winding deep, and green, her fertile vales; With many a cool translucent brimming flood
Wafh'd lovely, from the Tweed (pure parent ftream,
Whose pastoral banks first heard my Doric reed,
With, filvan Jed, thy tributary brook)
To where the north-inflated tempeft foams
O'er Orca's or Betubium's highest peak :
Nurse of a people, in misfortune's school
Train'd up to hardy deeds; foon vifited
By Learning, when before the Gothic rage
She took her weftern flight. A manly race,
Of unfubmitting fpirit, wife, and brave;
Who ftill thro' bleeding ages ftruggled hard,
(As well unhappy WALLACE can attest,
Great patriot hero! ill-requited chief!)
To hold a generous undiminish'd state;
Too much in vain! Hence of unequal bounds
Impatient, and by tempting glory borne
O'er every land, for every land their life
Has flow'd profufe, their piercing genius plann'd,
And swell'd the pomp of peace their faithful toil.
As from their own clear north, in radiant streams,
Bright over Europe burfts the Boreal Morn.
Oh is there not fome patriot, in whofe power That beft, that godlike Luxury is placed,
Of bleffing thousands, thousands yet unborn,
Thro' late pofterity? fome, large of soul,
To cheer dejected industry? to give
A double harvest to the pining swain ?
And teach the labouring hand the fweets of toil?
How, by the finest art, the native robe
To weave; how, white as hyperborean fnow,
To form the lucid lawn; with venturous oar
How to dafh wide the billow
; nor look Shamefully paffive, while Batavian fleets Defraud us of the glittering finny fwarms,
That heave our friths, and crowd upon our fhores;
How all-enlivening trade to rouse, and wing
The profperous fail, from every growing port,
Uninjur'd, round the fea-encircled globe;
And thus, in foul united as in name,
Bid BRITAIN reign the mistress of the deep?
Yes, there are fuch. And full on thee, ARGYLE,
Her hope, her stay, her darling, and her boast,
From her first patriots and her heroes fprung,
Thy fond-imploring Country turns her eye;
In thee, with all a mother's triumph, fecs
Her every virtue, every grace combin'd,
Her genius, wisdom, her engaging turn,
Her pride of honour, and her courage try'd,
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