996

And floods the country round, The rivers fwell, 99
Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills,
O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts,
A thousand fnow-fed torrents fhoot at once;
And, where they ruth, the wide refounding plain
Is left one flimy wafte. Thofe fullen feas,
That wash'd th' ungenial pole, will reft no more
Beneath the fhackles of the mighty north:
But, roufing all their waves, refiftlefs heave-
And hark the lengthening roar continuous runs
Athwart the rifted deep at once it bursts,
And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds.
Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charg'd,
That, tofs'd amid the floating fragments, moors
Beneath the fhelter of an icy ifle,

1001

1005 While night o'erwhelms the fea, and horror looks More horrible. Can human force endure Th' affembled mischiefs that besiege them round ? Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness, The roar of winds and waves, the cruth of ice, 1010 Now ceafing, now renew'd with louder rage, And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. More to embroil the deep, Leviathan And his unwieldy train, in dreadful fport, Tempeft the loofen'd brine, while thro' the gloom, Far, from the bleak inhofpitable shore, Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl Of famith'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks. Yet Providence, that ever-waking Eye, Looks down with pity on the feeble toil Of mortals loft to hope, and lights them fafe, Thro' all this dreary labyrinth of fate.

IC16

1020

'Tis done!-dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year. How dead the vegetable kingdom lies;

How dumb the tuneful! horror wide extends

His defolate domain. Behold, fond Mạn!

1025

See here thy pictur'd life; país fome few years, Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent ftrength, Thy fober Autumn fading into age,

1930

And pale concluding Winter comes at last,
And huts the scene. Ah! whither now are fled,

Thofe

Thofe dreams of greatnefs? thofe unfolid hopes
Of happiness? thofe longings after fame ?

1040

Those restlefs cares? thofe bufy bustling days? 1035.
Thofegay-fpentfeftive nights? those veering thoughts
Loft between good and ill, that shar'd thy life?
All are now vanifh'd! Virtue fole furvives,
Immortal never-failing friend of Man,
His guide to happiness on high. And fee!
'Tis come, the glorious morn! the second birth
Of heaven, and earth! "awakening Nature hears
The new creating word, and starts to life,
In every heightened form, from pain and death
For ever free. The great eternal fcheme
Involving all, and in a perfect whole
Uniting,
as the profpect wider fpreads,
To reafon's eye refin'd clears up apace.
Ye vainly wife! ye blind prefumptuous! now,
Confounded in the duft, adore that Power,
And Wisdom oft-arraign'd: fee now the cause,
Why unaffuming worth in fecret liv'd,

1045

1050

And dy'd neglected: Why the good Man's share
In life was gall and bitterness of foul:

Why the lone widow, and her orphans pin'd, 1055
In ftarving folitude; while luxury,

In palaces, lay ftraining her low thought,

To form unreal wants: why heaven-born truth,
And moderation fair, wore the red marks

Of fuperftition's fcourge: why licens'd pain, 1060
That cruel fpoiler, that embofom'd foe,
Imbitter'd all our blifs. Ye gcod diftreft;
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Beneath life's preffure, yet bear up a while,
And what your bounded view, which only faw 1065
A little part, deem'd Evil is no more:
The forms of Wintry Time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.

THE END.

Tare but the varied God. The rolling year HESE, as they change, Almighty Father, thefe

Is full of thee. Forth in the pleafing Spring
Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love.
Wide fluth the fields; the foftning air is balm ;
Echo the mountains round; the forests smiles;
And every fenfe, and every heart is joy.
Then comes thy glory in the Summer-months,
With light and heat refulgent. Then thy fun
Shoots full perfection thro' the fwelling year:
And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder fpeaks;
And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves, in hollow whispering gales.
Thy bounty fhines in Autumn unconfin'd,
And fpreads a common feast for all that lives.
In Winter awful Thou! with clouds and storms
Around thee thrown, tempeft o'er tempeft roll'd,
Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing,
Riding fublime, Thou bidit the world adore,
And humbleft Nature with thy northern blast.
Myfterious 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 ;

15

20

Shade,

25

30

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 fleaming thence
The fair profufion that o'erfpreads the Spring;
Flings from the fun direct the flaming day;
Feeds every creature; hurls the tempeft forth;
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, 35-
With transport touches all the springs of life.
Nature, attend! join every living foul,

Beneath the fpacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join; and, ardent raise

One general fong! To him ye vocal gales,

40

Breathe foft, whofe Spirit in your trefhnefs breathes:

Oh talk of Him in folitary glooms;

Where, o'er the rock, the fcarcely waving pine
Fills the brown fhade with a religious awe.
And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,

45

Who shake the astonish'd world, lift high to heaven
Th' impetuous fong, and say from whom yoù rage.
His praife, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills;
And let me catch it as I mufe along,

Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound;
Ye fofter floods, that lead the humid maze
Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,
A fecret world of wonders in thyself,

50

Sound his ftupendous praise! whofe greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. 55
Soft-roll your incenfe, herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds to Him; whose fun exalts,
Whofe breath perfumes you, and whofe pencil paints.
Ye forefts bend, ye harvests wave, to Him;
Breathe your ftill fong into the reaper's heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth afleep
Unconfeious lies, effufe your mildeft beams,
Ye conftellations, while your angels ftrike,
Amid the spangled fky, the filver lyre.
Great fource of day! beft image here below

65

Of