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With the big stores of steaming oceans charg'd

d. Meantime, amid these upper seas, condens'd Around the cold aërial mountain's brow, And by conflicting winds together dash’d, The Thunder holds his black tremendous throne: From cloud to cloud the rending Lightnings rage ; Till, in the furious elemental war Diffolv'd, the whole precipitated mass Unbroken floods and solid torrents pours.

The treasures these, hid from the bounded search Of ancient knowledge; whence, with annual pomp, Rich king of foods! o'erflows the swelling Nile. From his two springs, in Gojam’s funny realm, Pure-welling out, he thro' the lucid lake Of fair Dambea rolls his infant-stream. There, by the Naiads nurs’d, he sports away His playful youth, amid the fragrant ifles, That with unfading verdure smile around. Ambitious, thence the manly river breaks ; And gathering many a flood, and copious fed With all the mellowed treasures of the sky, Winds in progressive majefty along : Thro' fplendid kingdoms now devolves his maze, Now wanders wild o'er solitary tracts Of life-deserted sand; till, glad to quit

The joyless desert, down the Nubian rocks
From thundering steep to steep, he pours his urn,
And Egypt joys beneath the spreading wave.

His brother Niger too, and all the floods
In which the full-form'd maids of Afric lave
Their jetty limbs; and all that from the tract
Of woody mountains stretch'd thro?

gorgeous

Ind Fall on Cormandel's coast, or Malabar; From Menam's * orient stream, that nightly shines With infect-lamps, to where Aurora sheds On Indus' smiling banks the rofy shower : All, at this bounteous season, ope

their

urns, And pour untoiling harvest o'er the land.

Nor less thy world, Columbus, drinks, refresh'd, The lavish moisture of the melting year, Wide o'er his illes, the branching Oronoque Rolls a brown deluge ; and the native drives To dwell aloft on life-sufficing trees, At once his dome, his robe, his food, and arms. Swellid by a thousand streams, impetuous hurl'd From all the roaring Andes, huge defcends

* The river that runs through Siam; on whose banks a vast multitude of those insects called Fire-flies make a beautiful appearance in the night.

The mighty Orellana*. Scarce the Muse
Dares stretch her wing o'er this enormous mass
Of rushing water; scarce lhe dares attempt
The fea-like Plata ; to whose dread expanse,
Continuous depth, and wondrous length of course,
Our floods are rills. With unabated force,
In filent dignity they sweep along,
And traverse realms unknown, and blooming wilds,
And fruitful deserts, worlds of solitude,
Where the sun smiles and season's teem in vain,
Unseen, and unenjoy'd. Forsaking these,
O’er peopled plains they fair-diffufive flow,
And many a nation feed, and circle safe,
In their soft bosom, many a happy ille ;
The seat of blameless Pan, yet undisturb’d
By christian crimes and Europe's cruel fons.
Thus pouring on they proudly seek the deep,
Whofe vanquish'd tide, recoiling from the shock,
Yields to the liquid weight of half the globe ;
And Ocean trembles for his green domain,

But what avails this wondrous waste of wealth?
This gay profufion of luxurious bliss ?
This pomp of Nature? what their balmy meads,

The river of the Amazons.

Their powerful herbs, and Ceres void of pain ?
By vagrant birds dispers’d, and wafting winds,
What their unplanted fruits? what the cool draughts,
Th'ambrofial food, rich gums, and spicy health,
Their forests yield? Their toiling insects what,
Their filky pride, and vegetable robes?
Ah! what avail their fatal treasures, hid
Deep in the bowels of the pitying earth,
Golconda's

gems,

and sad Potosi's mines; Where dwelt the gentlest children of the sun ? What all that Afric's golden rivers roll, Her odorous woods, and shining ivory stores ? Il-fated race! the softening arts of Peace, Whate'er the humanizing Muses teach ; The godlike wisdom of the temper'd breaft; Progressive truth, the patient force of thought; Investigation calm, whose filent powers Command the world; the Light that leads to HEAVEN; Kind equal rule, the government of laws, And all protecting FREEDOM, which alone Sustains the name and dignity of Man: These are not theirs. The parent-sun himself Seems o'er this world of slaves to tyrannize; And, with oppreffive ray, the roseat bloom Of beauty blasting, gives the gloomy hue,

And feature gross: or worse, to ruthless deeds,
Mad jealousy, blind rage, and fell revenge,
Their fervid spirit fires. Love dwells not there,
The soft regards, the tenderness of life,
The heart-shed tear, th' ineffable delight
Of sweet humanity: these court the beam
Of milder climes; in felfish fierce desire,
And the wild fury of voluptuous sense,
There loft. The very brute creation there
This rage partakes, and burns with horrid fire.

Lo! the green serpent, from his dark abode,
Which even Imagination fears to tread,
At noon forth-issuing, gathers up his train
In orbs immenfe, then, darting out anew,
Seeks the refreshing fount; by which diffus’d,
He throws his folds; and while, with threat'ning tongue,
And deathful jaws erect, the monster curls
His flaming creft, all other thirst appallid,
Or shivering flies, or check'd at distance stands,
Nor dares approach. But still more direful he,
The small close-lurking minister of fate,
Whose high-concocted venom thro' the veins
A rapid lightning darts, arrefting swift
The vital current. Form'd to humble Man,
This child of vengeful Nature! There, sublim'd

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