Summer

FROM brightening fields of ether fair disclos'd,Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,In pride of Youth, and felt thro' Nature's depth:He comes attended by the sultry Hours,And ever-fanning Breezes, on his way;5While, from his ardent look, the turning SpringAverts her blushful face; and earth, and skies,All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves.

Hence, let me hafte into the mid-wood shade,Where scarce a sun-beam wanders thro' the gloom;10And on the dark-green grass, beside the brinkOf haunted stream, that by the roots of oakRolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large,And sing the glories of the circling year.

Come, Inspiration! from thy hermit-seat,15By mortal seldom found: may Fancy dare,From thy fix'd serious eye, and raptur'd glanceShot on surrounding Heaven, to steal one lookCreative of the Poet, every powerExalting to an Ecstasy of soul.20

And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend,In whom the human graces all unite:

Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart;Genius, and Wisdom; the gay social sense,By decency chastis'd; goodness and wit, 25In seldom-meeting harmony combin'd;Unblemish'd honour, and an active zeal,For Britain's glory, Liberty, and Man:O Dodington! attend my rural song,Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line, 30And teach me to deserve thy just Applause.

With what an awful world-revolving powerWere first th' unwieldy planets launch'd alongTh' illimitable void! Thus to remain,Amid the flux of many thousand years,35That oft has swept the toiling race of Men,And all their labour'd monuments away,Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course;To the kind-temper'd change of night and day,And of the seasons ever stealing round,40Minutely faithful: Such Th' all-Perfect Hand!That pois'd, impels, and rules the steady Whole.

When now no more th' alternate Twins are fir'd,And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze,Short is the doubtful empire of the night:45And soon, observant of approaching day,The meek-ey'd Morn appears, mother of dews,At first faint-gleaming in the dappled east:Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow;And, from before the lustre of her face,50White break the clouds away. With quicken'd step,Brown Night retires: Young Day pours in apace,And opens all the lawny prospect wide.The dripping rock, the mountain's misty topSwell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn.55

Blue, thro' the dusk, the smoking currents shine;And from the bladed field the fearful hareLimps, aukward: while along the forest-gladeThe wild deer trip, and often turning gazeAt early passenger. Music awakes 60The native voice of undissembled joy;And thick around the woodland hymns arise.Rous'd by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leavesHis mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells;And from the crouded fold, in order, drives 65His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn.

Falsely luxurious, will not Man awake;And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoyThe cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour,To meditation due and sacred song? 70For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise?To lie in dead oblivion, losing halfThe fleeting moments of too short a life;Total extinction of th' enlightened soul!Or else to feverish vanity alive, 75Wildered, and tossing thro' distemper'd dreams?Who would in such a gloomy state remainLonger than Nature craves; when every MuseAnd every blooming pleasure wait without,To bless the wildly-devious morning-walk? 80

But yonder comes the powerful King of Day,Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud,The kindling azure, and the mountain's browIllum'd with fluid gold, his near approachBetoken glad. Lo! now, apparent all,85Aslant the dew-bright earth, and coloured air,He looks in boundless majesty abroad;And sheds the shining day, thad burnish'd plays

On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams,High-gleaming from afar. Prime chearer, Light! 90Of all material beings first, and best!Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe!Without whose vesting beauty all were wraptIn unessential gloom; and thou, O Sun!Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen95Shines out thy Maker! may I sing of thee?

'Tis by thy secret, strong, attractive force,As with a chain indissoluble bound,Thy System rolls entire: from the far bourneOf utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round 100Of thirty years; to Mercury, whofe diskCan scarce be caught by philosophic eye,Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze.

Informer of the planetary train!Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous orbs 105Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead,And not, as now, the green abodes of life!How many forms of being wait on thee,Inhaling spirit; from th' unfetter'd mind,By thee sublim'd, down to the daily race,110The mixing myriads of thy setting beam.

The vegetable world is also thine,Parent of Seasons! who the pomp precedeThat waits thy throne, as thro' thy vast domain,Annual, along the bright ecliptic road,115In world-rejoicing state, it moves sublime.Mean-time th' expecting nations, circled gayWith all the various tribes of foodful earth,Implore thy bounty, or send grateful upA common hymn: while round thy beaming car.120

High-seen, the Seasons lead, in sprightly danceHarmonious knit, the rosy-finger'd Hours,The Zephyrs floating loose, the timely Rains,Of Bloom ethereal the light-footed Dews,And soften'd into joy the surly Storms.125These, in successive turn, with lavish hand,Shower every beauty, every fragrance shower,Herbs, flowers, and fruits; till, kindling at thy touch,From land to land is flush'd the vernal year.

Nor to the surface of enliven'd earth,130Graceful with hills and dales, and leafy woods,Her liberal trebles, is thy force confin'd:But, to the bowel'd cavern darting deep,The mineral kinds confess thy mighty power.Effulgent, hence the veiny marble shines; 135Hence Labour draws his tools; hence burnish'd WarGleams on the day; the nobler works of PeaceHence bless mankind, and generous Commerce bindsThe round of nations in a golden chain.

Th' unfruitful rock, itself impregn'd by thee,140In dark retirement forms the lucid stone.The lively Diamond drinks thy purest rays,Collected light, compact; that, polish'd bright,And all its native lustre let abroad,Dares, as it sparkles on the fair-one's breast,145With vain ambition emulate her eyes.At thee the Ruby lights its deepening glow,And with a waving radiance inward flames.From thee the Sapphire, solid ether, takesIts hue cerulean; and, of evening tinct,150The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.With thy own smile the yellow Topaz burns.Nor deeper verdure dyes the robe of Spring,

When first she gives it to the southern gale,Than the green Emerald shows. But, all combin'd,155Thick thro' the whitening Opal play thy beams;Or, flying several from its surface, formA trembling variance of revolving hues,As the site varies in the gazer's hand.

The very dead creation, from thy touch, 160Assumes a mimic life. By thee refin'd,In brighter mazes the relucent streamPlays o'er the mead. The precipice abrupt,Projecting horror on the blackened flood,Softens at thy return. The desart joys 165Wildly, thro' all his melancholy bounds.Rude ruins glitter; and the briny deep,Seen from some pointed promontory's top,Far to the blue horizon's utmost verge,Restless, reflects a floating gleam. But this, 170And all the much-transported Muse can sing.Are to thy beauty, dignity, and use,Unequal far, great delegated sourceOf light, and life, and grace, and joy below!

How shall I then attempt to sing of Him, 175Who, Light Himself, in uncreated lightInvested deep, dwells awfully retir'dFrom mortal eye, or angel's purer ken;Whose single smile has, from the first of time,Fill'd, overflowing, all those lamps of Heaven, 180That beam for ever thro' the boundless sky:But, should he hide his face, th' astonish'd sun,And all th' extinguish'd stars, would loosening startWide from their spheres, and Chaos come again.

And yet was every faultering tongue of Man, 185Almighty Maker! silent in thy praise;

Thy works themselves would raise a general voice,Even in the depth of solitary woods,By human foot untrod, proclaim thy power,And to the quire celestial Thee resound, 190Th' eternal cause, support and end of all!

To me be Nature's volume broad-display'd;And to peruse its all-instructing page,Or, haply catching inspiration thence,Some easy passage, raptur'd, to translate, 195My sole delight; as thro' the falling gloomsPensive I stray, or with the rising dawnOn Fancy's eagle-wing excursive soar.

Now, flaming up the heavens, the potent funMelts into limpid air the high-rais'd clouds, 200And morning fogs that hover'd round the hillsIn party-colour'd bands; till wide unveil'dThe face of nature shines, from where earth seems,Far-stretch'd around, to meet the bending sphere.

Half in a blush of clustering roses lost, 205Dew-dropping Coolness to the shade retires;There on the verdant tnrf, or flowery bedBy gelid founts and careless rills to muse:While tyrant Heat, dispreading thro' the sky,With rapid fway, his burning influence darts 210On Man, and beast, and herb, and tepid stream.

Who can unpitying see the flowery race,Shed by the morn, their new-flush'd bloom resign,Before the parching beam? so fade the fair,When fevers revel thro' their azure veins. 215But one, the lofty follower of the sun,Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves,

Drooping all night; and, whem he warm returns,Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray.

Home, from his morning task, the swain retreats; 220His flock before him stepping to the fold:While the full-udder'd mother lows aroundThe chearful cottage, then expelling food,The food of innocence, and health! the dawThe rook and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks 225That the calm village in their verdant arms,Sheltering, embrace direct their lazy flight;Where on the mingling boughs they fit embower'd,All the hot noon, till cooler hours arise.Faint, underneath, the houshold fowls convene; 230And, in a corner of the buzzing shade,The house-dog, with the vacant greyhound, lies,Out-stretch'd, and sleepy. In his slumbers oneAttacks the nightly thief, and one exultsO'er hill and dale; till wakened by the wasp, 235They starting snap. Nor shall the Muse disdainTo let the little noisy summer-raceLive in her lay, and flutter through her songsNot mean tho' simple: to the sun ally'd,From him they draw their animating fire. 240

Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile youngCome wing'd abroad; by the light air upborn,Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink,And secret corner, where they slept awayThe wintry storms; or rising from their tombs, 245To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,Swarming they pour; of all the vary'd huesTheir beauty-beaming parent can disclose.Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes!People the blaze. To sunny waters some 250By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool

They, sportive, wheel; or, sailing down the stream,Are snatch'd immediate by the quick-eyed trout,Or darting salmon. Thro' the green-wood gladeSome love to stray; there lodg'd, amus'd and fed, 255In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others makeThe meads their choice, and visit every flower,And every latent herb: for the sweet task,To propagate their kinds, and where to wrap,In what soft beds, their young yet undisclos'd, 260Employs their tender care. Some to the house,The fold, and dairy, hungry, bend their flight;Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese:Oft, inadvertent, from the milky streamThey meet their fate; or, weltering in the bowl, 265With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire.

But chief to heedless flies the window provesA constant death; where, gloomily retir'd,The villain spider lives, cunning, and fierce.Mixture abhorr'd! Amid a mangled heap 270Of carcasses, in eager watch he sits,O'erlooking all his waving snares around.Near the dire cell the dreadless wanderer oftPasses, as oft the ruffian shows his front;The prey at last ensnar'd, he dreadful darts, 275With rapid glide, along the leaning line;And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs,Strikes backward grimly pleas'd: the fluttering wing,And shriller sound declare extreme distress,And ask the helping hospitable hand. 280

Resounds the living surface of the ground:Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum,To him who muses thro' the woods at noon;Or drowsy shepherd, as he lies reclin'd,

With half-shut eyes, beneath the floating shade 285Of willows grey, close-crouding o'er the brook.

Gradual, from these what numerous kinds descend,Evading even the microscopic eye!Full Nature swarms with life; one wondrous massOf animals, or atoms organiz'd,290Waiting the vital Breath, when Parent-HeavenShall bid his spirit blow. The hoary fen,In putrid steams, emits the living cloudOf pestilence. Thro' subterranean cells,Where searching sun-beams scarce can find a way295Earth animated heaves. The flowery leafWants not its soft inhabitants. Secure,Within its winding citadel, the stoneHolds multitudes. But chief the forest-boughs,That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze,300The downy orchard, and the melting pulpOf mellow fruit, the nameless nations feedOf evanescent insects. Where the poolStands mantled o'er with green, invisible,Amid the floating verdure millions stray.305Each liquid too, whether it pierces, sooths.Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste,With various forms abounds. Nor is the firearmOf purest crystal, nor the lucid air,Tho' one transparent vacancy it seems,310Void of their unseen people. These, conceal'dBy the kind art of forming Heaven, escapeThe grosser eye of Man: for, if the worldsIn worlds inclos'd should on his senses burst,From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl,315He would abhorrent turn; and in dead night,When silence sleeps o'er all, be stun'd with noise.

Let no presuming impious railer taxCreative Wisdom, as if aught was form'd

In vain, or not for admirable ends. 320Shall little haughty ignorance pronounceHis works unwise, of which the smallest partExceeds the narrow vision of her mind?As if upon a full-proportion'd dome,On swelling Columns heav'd, the pride of art! 325A critic-fly, whose feeble ray scarce spreadsAn inch around, with blind presumption bold,Should dare to tax the structure of the whole.And lives the Man, whose universal eyeHas swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things: 330Mark'd their dependance so, and firm accord,As with unfaultering accent to concludeThat This evaileth nought? has any seenThe mighty chain of beings, lessening downFrom Infinite Perfection to the brink 335Of dreary Nothing, desolate abyss!From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns?Till then alone let zealous praise ascend,And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power,Whose wisdom shines as lovely on our minds, 340As on our smiling eyes his servant-sun.

Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways,Upward, and downward, thwarting, and convolv'd,The quivering nations sport; till, tempest-wing'd,Fierce Winter sweeps them from the face of day. 345Even so luxurious Men, unheeding, passAn idle summer-life in fortune's shine,A season's glitter! thus they flutter onFrom toy to toy, from vanity to vice;Till, blown away by death, oblivon comes 350Behind, and strikes them from the book of life.

Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead:The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil,

Healthful, and strong; full as the summer-roseBlown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid,355Half-naked, swelling on the sight, and allHer kindled graces burning o'er her cheek.Even stooping age is here; and infant-handsTrail the long rake, or, with the fragrant loadO'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll.360Wide flies the tedded grain; all in a rowAdvancing broad, or wheeling round the field,They spread the breathing harvest to the sun,That throws refreshful round a rural smell:Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground,365And drive the dusky wave along the mead,The russet hay-cock rises thick behind,In order gay. While heard from dale to dale,Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voiceOf happy labour, love, and social glee.370

Or rushing thence, in one diffusive band,They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dogCompell'd, to where the mazy-running brookForms a deep pool: this bank abrupt and high,And that fair-spreading in a pebbled shore.375Urg'd to the giddy brink, much is the toil,The clamour much, of men, and boys, and dogs,Ere the soft fearful people to the floodCommit their woolly sides. And oft the swain,On some impatient seizing, hurls them in:380Embolden'd then, nor hesitating more,Fast, fast, they plunge amid the flashing wave,And panting labour to the farthest shore.Repeated this, till deep the well-wash'd fleeceHas drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt385The trout is banish'd by the sordid stream;Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow

Slow-move the harmless race: where, as they spreadTheir swelling treasures to the sunny ray,Inly disturb'd, and wondering what this wild390Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaintsThe country fill; and, toss'd from rock to rock,Incessant bleatings run around the hills.At last, of snowy white, the gather'd flocksAre in the wattled pen innumerous press'd,395Head above head; and, rang'd in lusty rows,The shepherds sit, and whet the sounding shears.The housewife waits to roll her fleecy stores,With all her gay-drest maids attending round.One, chief, in gracious dignity enthron'd,400Shines o'er the rest, the pastoral queen, and raysHer smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king;While the glad circle round them yield their soulsTo festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall.Meantime, their joyous task goes on apace:405Some mingling stir the melted tar, and some,Deep on the new-shorn vagrant's heaving side,To stamp his master's cypher ready stand;Others th' unwilling wether drag along,And, glorying in his might, the sturdy boy410Holds by the twisted horns th' indignant ram.Behold where bound, and of its robe bereft,By needy Man, that all-depending lord,How meek, how patient, the mild creature lies!What softness in its melancholy face,415What dumb complaining innocence appears!Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the knifeOf horrid daughter that is o'er you wav'd;No, 'tis the tender swain's well-guided shears,Who having now, to pay his annual care,420Borrow'd your fleece, to you a cumbrous load,Will send you bounding to your hills again.

A simple scene! yet hence Britannia seesHer solid grandeur rise: hence she commandsTh' exalted stores of every brighter clime, 425The treasures of the sun without his rage:Hence, fervent all, with culture, toil, and arts,Wide glows her land: her dreadful thunder henceRides o'er the waves sublime, and now, even now,Impendig hangs o'er Gallia's humbled coast; 430Hence rules the circling deep, and awes the world.

'Tis raging Noon; and, vertical, the SunDarts on the head direct his forceful rays.O'er heaven and earth, far as the ranging eyeCan sweep, a dazling deluge reigns; and all 435From pole to pole is undistinguish'd blaze.In vain the sight, dejected to the ground,Stoops for relief; thence hot ascending steamsAnd keen reflection pain. Deep to the rootOf vegetation parch'd, the cleaving fields 440And slippery lawn an arid hue disclose,Blast Fancy's blooms, and wither even the Soul.Echo no more returns the chearful soundOf sharpening scythe: the mower sinking heapsO'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfum'd; 445And scarce a chirping grass-hopper is heardThro' the dumb mead. Distresful Nature pants.The very streams look languid from afar;Or, thro' th' unshelter'd glade, impatient, seemTo hurl into the covert of the grove. 450

All-Conquering heat, oh intermit thy wrath!And on my throbbing temples potent thusBeam not so fierce! incessant still you flow,And still another fervent flood succeeds,Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh,455

And restless turn, and look around for Night;Night is far off; and hotter hours approach.Thrice happy he! that on the sunless sideOf a romantic mountain, forest-crown'd,Beneath the whole collected shade reclines:460Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine-wrought,And fresh bedew'd with ever-spouting streams,Sits coolly calm; while all the world without,Unsatisfied, and sick, tosses in noon.Emblem instructive of the virtuous Man,465Who keeps his temper'd mind serene, and pure,And every passion aptly harmoniz'd,Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd.

Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery thickets, hail!Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks!470Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep!Delicious is your shelter to the soul,As to the hunted hart the sallying spring,Or stream full-flowing, that his swelling sidesLaves, as he floats along the herbag'd brink,475Cool, thro' the nerves, your pleasing comfort glides;The heart beats glad; the fresh-expanded eyeAnd ear resume their watch; the sinews knit;And life shoots swift thro' all the lightened limbs.

Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along480The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock,Now scarcely moving thro' a reedy pool,Now starting to a sudden stream, and nowGently diffus'd into a limpid plain;A various groupe the herds and flocks compose,485Rural confusion! On the grassy bankSome ruminating lie; while others standHalf in the flood, and often bending sip

The circling surface. In the middle droopsThe strong labourious ox, of honest front, 490Which imcompos'd he shakes; and from his sidesThe troublous insects lashes with his tail,Returning still. Amid his subjects safe,Slumbers the monarch-swain; his careless armThrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd; 495Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fill'd;There, listening every noise, his watchful dog.

Light fly his slumbers, if perchance a flightOf angry gad-flies fasten on the herd;That startling scatters from the shallow brook, 500In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam,They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain,Thro' all the bright severity of noon;While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moanProceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills. 505

Oft in this season too the horse, provok'd,While his big sinews full of spirits swell,Trembling with vigour, in the heat of blood,Springs the high fence; and, o'er the field effus'd,Darts on the gloomy flood, with stedfast eye, 510And heart estrang'd to fear: his nervous chest,Luxuriant, and erect, the seat of strength!Bears down th' opposing stream: quenchless his thirst;He takes the river at redoubled draughts;And with wide nostrils, snorting, skims the wave.515

Still let me pierce into the midnight depthOf yonder grove, of wildest largest growth:That, forming high in air a woodland quire,Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every step,Solemn, and slow, the shadows blacker fall, 520And all is awful listening gloom around.

These are the haunts of Meditation, theseThe scenes where ancients bards th' inspiring breath,Extatic, felt; and, from this world retir'd,Conversed with angels, and immortal forms, 525On gracious errands bent: to save the fallOf virtue, struggling on the brink of vice;In waking whispers, and repeated dreams,To hint pure thought, and warn the favour'd soulFor future trials fated to prepare; 530To prompt the poet, who devoted givesHis muse to better themes; to soothe the pangsOf dying worth, and from the patriot's breast,(Backward to mingle in detested war,But foremost when engag'd) to turn the death; 535And numberless such offices of love,Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform.

Shook sudden from the bosom of the sky,A thousand shapes or glide athwart the dusk,Or stalk majestic on. Deep-rous'd, I feel 540A sacred terror, and severe delight,Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, methinks,A voice, than human more, th' abstracted earOf fancy strikes. "Be not of us afraid,Poor kindred Man! thy fellow-creatures, we 545From the same Parent-Power our beings drew,The same our Lord, and laws, and great pursuit.Once some of us, like thee, thro' stormy life,Toil'd, tempest-beaten, ere we could attainThis holy calm, this harmony of mind, 550Where purity and peace immingle charms.Then, fear not us; but with responsive song,Amid these dim recesses, undisturb'dBy noisy folly and discordant vice,Of Nature sing with us, and Nature's God. 555

Here frequent, at the visionary hour,When musing midnight reigns or silent noon,Angelic harps are in full concert heard,And voices chaunting from the wood-crown'd hill,The deepening dale, or inmost sylvan glade:560A privilege bellow'd by us, alone,On contemplation, or the hallow'd earOf Poet, swelling to seraphic strain."

And art thou, Stanley, of that sacred band?Alas, for us too soon!—tho' rais'd above565The reach of human pain, above the flightOf human joy; yet, with a mingled rayOf sadly-pleas'd remembrance, must thou feelA mother's love, a mother's tender woe:Who seeks thee still, in many a former scene;570Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely-beaming eyes,Thy pleasing converse, by gay lively senseInspir'd; where moral wisdom mildly shone,Without the toil of art; and virtue glow'd,In all her smiles, without forbidding pride.575But, O thou best of parents! wipe thy tears;Or rather to Parental Nature payThe tears of grateful joy, who for a whileLent thee this younger-self, this opening bloomOf thy enlighten'd mind and gentle worth.580Believe the Muse: the wintry blast of deathKills not the buds of virtue; no, they spread,Beneath the heavenly beam of brighter suns,Thro' endless ages, into higher powers.

Thus up the mount, in airy vision rapt,585I stray, regardless whither; till the sound

Of a near fall of water every senseWakes from the charm of thought: swift-shrinking back,I check my steps, and view the broken scene.

Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood 590Rolls fair, and placid; where collected all,In one impetuous torrent, down the steepIt thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.At first, an azure sheet, it rushes broad;Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls, 595And from the loud-resounding rocks belowDash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloftA hoary mill, and forms a ceaseless shower.Nor can the tortur'd wave here find repose:But, raging still amid the shaggy rocks, 600Now flashes o'er the scatter'd fragments, nowAslant the hollow'd channel rapid darts;And falling fast from gradual slope to slope,With wild infracted course, and lessen'd roar,It gains a safer bed, and steals, at last, 605Along the mazes of the quiet vale.

Invited from the cliff, to whose dark browHe clings, the steep-ascending eagle soars,With upward pinions thro' the flood of day;And, giving full his bosom to the blaze,610Gains on the sun; while all the tuneful race,Smit by affiictive noon, disorder'd droop,Deep in the thicket; or, from bower to bowerResponsive, force an interrupted strain.The stock~dove only thro' the forest cooes,615Mournfully hoarse; oft ceasing from his plaint,Short interval of weary woe! againThe sad idea of his murder'd mate,Struck from his side by savage fowler's guile,

Across his fancy comes; and then resounds 620A louder song of sorrow thro' the grove.

Beside the dewy border let me sitAll in the freshness of the humid air;There in that hollowed rock, grotesque and wild,An ample chair moss-lin'd, and over head 625By flowering umbrage shaded; where thee beeStrays diligent, and with th' exstracted balmOf fragrant woodbine loads his little thigh.

Now, while I taste the sweetness of the shade,While Nature lies around deep-lull'd in Noon, 630Now come, bold Fancy, spread a daring flight,And view the wonders of the torrid Zone:Climes unrelenting! with whose rage compar'd,Yon blaze is feeble, and yon skies are cool.

See, how at once the bright-effulgent sun, 636Rising direct, swift chases from the skyThe short-liv'd twilight; and with ardent blazeLooks gayly fierce thro' all the dazzling air:He mounts his throne; but kind before him sends,Issuing from out the portals of the morn, 640The general Breeze, to mitigate his fire,And breathe refreshment on a fainting world.Great are the scenes, with dreadful beauty crown'dAnd barbarous wealth, that see, each circling year,Returning suns and double seasons pass: 645Rocks rich in gems, and mountains big with mines,

That on the high equator ridgy rise,Whence many a bursting stream auriferous plays:Majestic woods, of every vigorous green,Stage above stage, high-waving o'er the hills; 650Or to the far horizon wide diffus'd,A boundless deep immensity of shade.Here lofty trees, to ancient song unknown,The noble sons of potent heat and floodsProne-rushing from the clouds, rear high to Heaven 655Their thorny steams, and broad around them throwMeridian gloom. Here, in eternal prime,Unnumber'd fruits, of keen delicious tasteAnd vital spirit, drink amid the cliffs,And burning lands that bank the shrubby vales, 660Redoubled day, yet in their rugged coatsA friendly juice to cool its rage contain.

Bear me, Pomona! to thy citron-groves;To where the lemon and the piercing lime,With the deep orange, glowing thro' the green, 665Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclin'dBeneath the spreading tamarind that shakes,Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit.Deep in the night the massy locust sheds,Quench my hot limbs; or lead me thro' the maze, 670Embowering endless, of the Indian fig;Or thrown at gayer ease, on some fair brow,Let me behold, by breezy murmurs cool'd,Broad o'er my head the verdant cedar wave,And high palmetos lift their graceful shade. 675O stretch'd amid these orchards of the sun,Give me to drain the cocoa's milky bowl,And from the palm to draw its freshening wine!More bounteous far than all the frantic juiceWhich Bacchus pours. Nor, on its slender twigs 680

Low-bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd;Nor, creeping thro' the woods, the gelid raceOf berries. Oft in humble station dwellsUnboastful worth, above fastidious pomp.Witness, thou best Anana, thou the pride 685Of vegetable life, beyond whate'erThe poets imag'd in the golden age:Quick, let me strip thee of thy tufty coat,Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove!

From these the prospect varies. Plains immense 690Lie stretch'd below, interminable meads,And vast savannahs, where the wandering eye,Unfixt, is in a verdant ocean lost.Another Flora there, of bolder hues,And richer sweets, beyond our garden's pride, 695Plays o'er the fields, and showers with sudden handExuberant spring: for oft these valleys shiftTheir green-embroider'd robe to fiery brown,And swift to green again, as scorching suns,Or streaming dews and torrent rains, prevail. 700

Along these lonely regions, where retir'd,From little scenes of art, great Nature dwellsIn awful solitude, and nought is seenBut the wild herds that own no master's stall,Prodigious rivers roll their fatning seas: 705On whose luxuriant herbage, half-conceal'd,Like a fall'n cedar, far diffus'd his train,Cas'd in green scales, the crocodile extends.The flood disparts: behold! in plaited mail,Behemoth rears his head. Glanc'd from his side, 710The darted steel in idle shivers flies:He fearless walks the plain, or seeks the hills;

Where, as he crops his vary'd fare, the herds,In widening circle round, forget their food,And at the harmless stranger wondering gaze. 715

Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that castTheir ample shade o'er Niger's yellow stream,And where the Ganges rolls his sacred wave;Or mid the central depth of blackning woods,High-rais'd in solemn theater around, 720Leans the huge elephant: wisest of brutes!O truly wise! with gentle might endow'd,Tho' powerful, not destructive! Here he seesRevolving ages sweep the changeful earth,And empires rise and fall; regardless he 725Of what the never-resting race of MenProject: thrice happy! could he 'scape their guile,Who mine, from cruel avarice, his steps;Or with his towery grandeur swell their state,The pride of kings! or else his strength pervert, 730And bid him rage amid the mortal fray,Astonish'd at the madness of mankind.

Wide o'er the winging umbrage of the floods,Like vivid blossoms glowing from afar,Thick-swarm the brighter birds. For Nature's hand, 735That with a sportive vanity has deck'dThe plumy nations, there her gayest huesProfusely pours. But, if she bids them shine,Array'd in all the beauteous beams of day,Yet frugal still, she humbles them in song. 740Nor envy we the gaudy robes they lentProud Montezuma's realm, whose legions castA boundless radiance waving on the sun,

While Philomel is ours; while in our shades,Thro' the soft silence of the listening night,745The sober-suited songstress trills her lay.

But come, my Muse, the desart-barrier burst,A wild expanse of lifeless sand and sky:And, swifter than the toiling caravan,Shoot o'er the vale of Sennar; ardent climb 745The Nubian mountains, and the secrets boundsOf jealous Abyssinia boldly pierce.Thou art no ruffian, who beneath the maskOf social commerce com'st to rob their wealth;No holy Fury thou, blaspheming Heaven, 750With consecrated steel to stab their peace,And thro' the land, yet red from civil wounds,To spread the purple tyranny of Rome.Thou, like the harmless bee, may'st freely range,From mead to mead bright with exalted flowers. 755From jasmine grove to grove, may'st wander gay,Thro' palmy shades and aromatic woods,That grace the plains, invest the peopled hills,And up the more than Alpine mountains wave.There on the breezy summit, spreading fair, 760For many a league; or on stupendous rocks,That, from the sun-redoubling valley lift,Cool to the middle air, their lawny tops;Where palaces, and fanes, and villas rise;And gardens smile around, and cultur'd fields; 765And fountains gush; and careless herds and flocksSecurely stray; a world within itfelf,Disdaining all assault: there let me drawEtherial soul, there drink reviving gales,Profusely breathing from the spicy groves, 770And vales of fragrance; there at distance hearThe roaring floods, and cataracts, that sweep

From disembowel'd earth the virgin gold;And o'er the vary'd landskip, restless, rove,Fervent with life of every fairer kind:775A land of wonders! which the sun still eyesWith ray direct, as of the lovely realmInamour'd, and delighting there to dwell.

How chang'd the scene! In blazing height of noon,The sun, oppress'd, is plung'd in thickest gloom.780Still Horror reigns, a dreary twilight round,Of struggling night and day malignant mix'd.For to the hot equator crouding fast,Where, highly rarefy'd, the yielding airAdmits their stream, incessant vapours roll,785Amazing clouds on clouds continual heap'd;Or whirl'd tempestuous by the gusty wind,Or silent borne along, heavy, and slow,With the big stores of streaming oceans charg'd.Meantime, amid these upper seas, condens'd790Around 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 war795Dissolv'd, the whole precipitated massUnbroken floods and solid torrents pours.

The treasures these, hid from the bounded searchOf ancient knowledge; whence, with annual pomp,Rich king of floods! o'erflows the swelling Nile.800From his two springs, in Gojam's sunny realm,Pure-welling out, he thro' the lucid lakeOf fair Dambea rolls his infant-stream.There, by the Naiads nurs'd, he sports awayHis playful youth, amid the fragrant isles805

That with unfading verdure smile around.Ambitious, thence the manly river breaks;And gathering many a flood, and copious fedWith all the mellow'd treasures of the sky,Winds in progressive majesty along: 810Thro' splendid kingdoms now devolves his maze,Now wanders wild o'er solitary tractsOf life-deserted sand; till, glad to quitThe joyless desart, down the Nubian rocksFrom thundering steep to steep, he pours his urn, 815And Egypt joys beneath the spreading wave.

His brother Niger too, and all the floodsIn which the full-form'd maids of Afric laveTheir jetty limbs; and all that from the tractOf woody mountains stretch'd thro' gorgeous Ind 820Fall on Cormandel's coast, or Malabar;From Menam's orient stream, that nightly shinesWith insect-lamps, to where Aurora shedsOn Indus' smiling banks the rosy shower:All, at this bounteous season, ope their urns, 825And 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 isles, the branching OronoqueRolls a brown deluge; and the native drives 830To dwell aloft on life-sufficing trees,At once his dome, his robe, his food, and arms.Swell'd by a thousand streams, impetuous hurl'dFrom all the roaring Andes, huge descendsThe mighty Orellana. Scarce the Muse 835Dares stretch her wing o'er this enormous mass

Of rushing water; scarce she dares attemptThe sea-like Plata; to whose dread expanse,Continuous depth, and wondrous length of course,Our floods are rills. With unabated force,840In silent dignity they sweep along,And traverse realms unknown, and blooming wilds,And fruitful desarts, worlds of solitude,Where the sun smiles and seasons teem in vain,Unseen, and unenjoy'd. Forsaking these, 845O'er peopled plains they fair-diffusive flow,And many a nation feed, and circle safe,In their soft bosom, many a happy isle;The seat of blameless Pan, yet undisturb'dBy christian crimes and Europe's cruel sons. 850Thus pouring on they proudly seek the deep,Whose vanquish'd tide, recoiling from the shock,Yields to this liquid weight of half the globe;And Ocean trembles for his green domain.

But what avails this wondrous waste of wealth? 855This gay profusion of luxurious bliss?This pomp of Nature? What their balmy meads,Their powerful herbs, and Ceres void of pain?By vagrant birds dispers'd, and wafting winds,What their unplanted fruits? What the cool draughts,860Th' ambrosial food, rich gums, and spicy health,Their forests yield? Their toiling insects what,Their silky pride, and vegetable robes?Ah! what avail their fatal treasure, hidDeep in the bowels of the pitying earth, 865Golconda's gems, and sad Potofi's mines;Where dwelt the gentlest children of the sun?What all that Afric's golden rivers roll,Her odorous woods, and fhining ivory stores?Ill-fated race! the softening arts of peace,870

Whate'er the humanizing Muses teach;The godlike wisdom of the temper'd breast;Progressive truth, the patient force of thought;Investigation calm, whofe silent powersCommand the world; the Light that leads to Heaven;875Kind equal rule, the government of laws,And all-protecting Freedom, which aloneSustains the name and dignity of Man:These are not theirs. The parent-sun himselfSeems o'er this world of slaves to tyrannize; 880And, with oppressive ray, the roseat bloomOf 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,885The soft regards, the tenderness of life,The heart-shed tear, th' ineffable delightOf sweet humanity: these court the beamOf milder climes; in selfish fierce desire,And the wild fury of voluptuous sense, 890There lost. The very brute-creation thereThis 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 895In orbs immense, then, darting out anew,Seeks the refreshing fount; by which diffus'd,He throws his folds: and while, with threatning tongue,And deathful jaws erect, the monster curlsHis flaming crest, all other thirst, appall'd, 900Or 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, arresting swift 905The vital current. Form'd to humble Man,This child of vengeful Nature! there, sublim'dTo fearless lust of blood, the savage raceRoam, licens'd by the shading hour of guilt,And foul misdeed, when the pure day has shut 910His sacred eye. The tyger darting fierce,Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd:The lively-shining leopard, speckled o'erWith many a spot, the beauty of the waste;And, scorning all the taming arts of Man, 915The keen hyena, fellest of the fell.These, rushing from th' inhospitable woodsOf Mauritania, or the tufted isles,That verdant rise amid the Lybian wild,Innumerous glare around their shaggy king, 920Majestic, stalking o'er the printed sand;And, with imperious and repeated roars,Demand their fated food. The fearful flocksCroud near the guardian swain; the nobler herds,Where round their lordly bull, in rural ease,925They ruminating lie, with horror hearThe coming rage. Th' awaken'd village starts;And to her fluttering breast the mother strainsHer thoughtless infant. From the Pyrate's den,Or stern Morocco's tyrant fang escap'd,930The wretch half-wishes for his bonds again:While, uproar all, the wilderness resounds,From Atlas eastward to the frighted Nile.

Unhappy he! who from the first of joys,Society, cut off, is left alone 935Amid this world of death. Day after day,Sad on the jutting eminence he fits,And views the main that ever toils below;

Still fondly forming in the farthest verge,Where the round ether mixes with the wave, 940Ships, dim-discovered, dropping from the clouds;At evening, to the setting sun he turnsA mournful eye, and down his dying heartSinks helpless; while the wonted roar is up.And hiss continual thro' the tedious night. 945Yet here, even here, into these black abodesOf monsters, unappall'd, from stooping Rome,And guilty Cæsar, Liberty retir'd,Her Cato following thro' Numidian wilds:Disdainful of Campania's gentle plains, 950And all the green delights Ausonia pours;When for them she must bend the servile knee,And fawning take the splendid robber's boon.

Nor slop the terrors of these regions here.Commission'd demons oft, angels of wrath,955Leet loose the raging elements. Breath'd hot,From all the boundless furnace of the sky,And the wide glittering waste of burning sand,A suffocating wind the pilgrim smitesWith instant death. Patient of thirst and toil, 960Son of the desart! even the camel feels,Shot thro' his wither'd heart, the fiery blast.Or from the black-red ether, bursting broad,Sallies the sudden whirlwind. Strait the sands,Commov'd around, in gathering eddies play: 965Nearer and nearer still they darkening come;Till, with the general all-involving stormSwept up, the whole continuous wilds arise;And by their noonday fount dejected thrown,Or sunk at night in sad disastrous sleep, 970Beneath descending hills, the caravanIs buried deep. In Cairo's crouded streets,

Th'impatient merchant, wondering, waits in vain,And Mecca saddens at the long delay.

But chief at sea, whose every flexile wave 975Obeys the blast, th' aërial tumult swells.In the dread ocean, undulating wide,Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe,The circling Typhon, whirl'd from point to point,Exhausting all the rage of all the sky, 980And dire Ecnephia reign. Amid the heavens,Falsely serene, deep in a cloudy speckCompress'd, the mighty tempest brooding dwells.Of no regard, save to the skilful eye,Fiery and foul, the small prognostic hangs 985Aloft, or on the promontory's browMusters its force. A feint deceitful calm,A fluttering gale, the demon sends before,To tempt the spreading sail. Then down at once,Precipitant, descends a mingled mass 990Of roaring winds, and flame, and rushing floods.In wild amazement fix'd the sailor stands.Art is too slow: By rapid fate oppress'd,His broad-wing'd vessel drinks the whelming tide,Hid in the bosom of the black abyss. 995With such mad seas the daring Gama fought.For many a day, and many a dreadful night,Incessant, lab'ring round the stormy cape;By bold ambition led, and bolder thirstOf gold. For then from ancient gloom emerg'd 1000The rising world of trade: the Genius, then,

Of navigation, that, in hopeless sloth,Had slumber'd on the vast atlantic deep,For idle ages, starting, heard at lastThe Lusitanian Prince; who, Heav'n-inspir'd,1005To love of useful glory rous'd mankind,And in unbounded commerce mix'd the world.

Increasing still the terrors of these storms,His jaws horrific arm'd with threefold fate,Here dwells the direful shark. Lur'd by the scent 1010Of steaming crouds, of rank disease, and death,Behold! he rushing cuts the briny flood,Swift as the gale can bear the ship along;And, from the partners of that cruel trade,Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons, 1015Demands his share of prey, demands themselves.The stormy fates descend: one death involvesTyrants and slaves; when strait, their mangled limbsCrashing at once, he dyes the purple seasWith gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. 1020

When o'er this world, by equinoctial rainsFlooded immense, looks out the joyless sun,And draws the copious stream: from swampy fens,Where putrefaction into life ferments,And breathes destructive myriads; or from woods,1025Impenetrable shades, recesses foul,In vapours rank and blue corruption wrapt,Whose gloomy horrors yet no desperate footHas ever dar'd to pierce; then, wasteful, forthWalks the dire power of pestilent disease. 1030A thousand hideous fiends her course attend,

Sick Nature blasting, and to heartless woe,And feeble desolation, casting downThe towering hopes and all the pride of Man.Such as, of late, at Carthagena quench'd1035The British fire. You, gallant Vernon, sawThe miserable scene; you, pitying, sawTo infant weakness sunk the warrior's arm;Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghastly form,The lip pale-quivering, and the beamless eye1040No more with ardour bright: you heard the groansOf agonizing ships, from shore to shore;Heard, nigthly plung'd amid the sullen waves,The frequent corse; while on each other fix'd;In sad presage, the blank assistants seem'd,1045Silent, to ask, whom Fate would next demand.

What need I mention those inclement skies,Where, frequent o'er the sickening city, Plague,The fiercest child of Nemesis divine,Descends? From Ethiopia's poisoned woods,1050From stifled Cairo's filth, and fetid fieldsWith locust-armies putrefying heap'd,This great destroyer sprung. Her awful rageThe brutes escape: Man is her destin'd prey,Intemperate Man! and, o'er his guilty domes,1055She draws a close incumbent cloud of death;Uninterrupted by the living winds,Forbid to blow a wholesome breeze; and stain'dWith many a mixture by the sun, suffus'd,Of angry aspect. Princely wisdom, then,1060Dejects his watchful eye; and from the handOf feeble justice, ineffectual, dropThe sword and balance: mute the voice of joy,

And hush'd the clamour of the busy world.Empty the streets, with uncouth verdure clad;1065Into the worst of desarts sudden turn'dThe chearful haunt of Men: unless escap'dFrom the doom'd house, where matchless horror reigns,Shut up by barbarous fear, the smitten wretch,With frenzy wild, breaks loose; and, loud to heaven1070Screaming, the dreadful policy arraigns,Inhuman, and unwise. The sullen door,Yet uninfected, on its cautious hingeFearing to turn, abhors society:Dependants, friends, relations, Love himself,1075Savag'd by woe, forget the tender tie,The sweet engagement of the feeling heart.But vain their selfish care: the circling sky,The wide enlivening air is full of fate;And, struck by turns, in solitary pangs1080They fall, unblest, untended, and unmourn'dThus o'er the prostrate city black DespairExtends her raven wing; while, to compleatThe scene of desolation, stretch'd around,The grim guards stand, denying all retreat,1085And give the flying wretch a better death.

Much yet remains unsung: the rage intenseOf brazen-vaulted skies, of iron fields,Where drought and famine starve the blasted year:Fir'd by the torch of noon to tenfold rage,1090Th' infuriate hill that shoots the pillar'd flame;And, rous'd within the subterranean world,Th' expanding earthquake, that resistless shakesAspiring cities from their solid base,And buries mountains in the flaming gulph.1095But 'tis enough; return, my vagrant Muse:A nearer scene of horror calls thee home.

Behold, slow-settling o'er the lurid groveUnusual darkness broods; and growing gainsThe full possession of the sky, surcharg'd1100With wrathful vapour, from the secret beds,Where sleep the mineral generations, drawn.Thence Niter, Sulphur, and the fiery spumeOf fat Bitumen, steaming on the day,With various-tinctur'd trains of latent flame,1105Pollute the sky, and in yon baleful cloud,A reddening gloom, a magazine of fate,Ferment; till, by the touch etherial rous'd,The dash of clouds, or irritating warOf fighting winds, while all is calm below,1110They furious spring. A boding silence reigns,Dread thro' the dun expanse; save the dull sound,That from the mountain, previous to the storm,Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood,And shakes the forest-leaf without a breath.1115Prone, to the lowest vale, th' aërial tribesDescend: the tempest-loving raven scarceDares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gazeThe cattle stand, and on the scowling heavensCast a deploring eye; by Man forsook,1120Who to the crouded cottage hies him fast,Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave.

'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all:When to the startled eye the sudden glanceAppears far south, eruptive thro' the cloud;1125And following slower, in explosion vast,The thunder raises his tremendous voice.At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,And rolls its awful burden on the wind,1130The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more

The noise astounds: till over head a sheetOf livid flame discloses wide, then shutsAnd opens wider, shuts and opens stillExpansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. 1135Follows the loosen'd, aggravated roar,Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on pealCrush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.

Down comes a deluge of sonorous hail,Or prone-descending rain. Wide-rent, the clouds, 1140Pour a whole flood; and yet, its flame unquench'd,Th' unconquerable lightning struggles through,Ragged and fierce, or in red whirling balls,And fires the mountains with redoubled rage.Black from the stroke, above, the smouldering pine 1145Stands a shattered trunk; and, stretch'd below,A lifeless groupe the blasted cattle lie:Here the soft flock, with that same harmless lookThey wore alive, and ruminating stillIn fancy's eye; and there the frowning bull, 1150And ox half-rais'd. Struck on the castled cliff,The venerable tower and spiry faneResign their aged pride. The gloomy woodsStart at the flash, and from their deep recess,Wide-flaming out, their trembling inmates shake. 1155Amid Carnavon's mountains rages loudThe repercussive roar: with mighty crush,Into the flashing deep, from the rude rocksOf Penmanmaur heap'd hideous to the sky,Tumble the smitten cliffs; and Snowden's peak, 1160Dissolving, instant yields his wintry load.Far-seen, the heights of heathy Cheviot blaze,And Thule bellows thro' her utmost isles.

Guilt hears appall'd with deeply troubled thought.And yet not always on the guilty head 1165

Descends the fated flash. Young CeladonAnd his Amelia were a matchless pair;With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace,The same, distinguish'd by their sex alone:Hers the mild lustre of the blooming morn,1170And his the radiance of the risen day.

They lov'd. But such their guileless passion was,As in the dawn of time inform'd the heartOf innocence, and undissembling truth.'Twas friendship heightened by the mutual wish, 1175Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow,Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting allTo love, each was to each a dearer self;Supremely happy in th' awaken'd powerOf giving joy. Alone, amid shades,1180Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'dThe rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart,Or sigh'd, and look'd unutterable things.

So pass'd their life, a clear united stream,By care unruffled; till, in evil hour, 1185The tempest caught them on the tender walk,Heedless how far, and where its mazes stray'd,While, with each other blest, creative loveStill bade eternal Eden smile around.Presaging instant fate her bosom heav'd 1190Unwonted sighs, and stealing oft a lookOf the big gloom on Celadon her eyeFell tearful, wetting her disordered cheek.In vain assuring love, and confidenceIn Heaven, repress'd her fear; it grew, and shook 1195Her frame near dissolution. He perceiv'dTh' unequal conflict, and as angels lookOn dying saints, his eyes compassion shed,

With love illumin'd high. "Fear not, he said,Sweet innocence thou! stranger to offence,1200And inward storm! He, who yon skies involvesIn frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee,With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaftThat wastes at midnight, or th' undreaded hourOf noon, flies harmless: and that very voice1205Which thunders terror thro' the guilty heart,With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine.'Tis safety to be near thee sure, and thusTo clasp perfection!" From his void embrace,Mysterious Heaven! that moment, to the ground1210A blacken'd corse, was struck the beauteous maid.But who can paint the lover, as he stood,Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life,Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of woe!So, faint resemblance! on the marble-tomb,1215The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands,For ever silent, and for ever sad.

As from the face of heaven the shattered cloudsTumultuous rove, th' interminable skySublimer swells, and o'er the world expands 1220A purer azure. Nature, from the storm,Shines out afresh; and thro' the lighten'd airA higher luster and a clearer calm,Diffusive, tremble; while, as if in signOf danger past, a glittering robe of joy, 1225Set off abundant by the yellow ray,Invests the fields: and nature smiles reviv'd.

'Tis beauty all, and grateful song around,Join'd to the low of kine, and numerous bleatOf flocks thick-nibbling thro' the clover'd vale. 1230And shall the hymn be marr'd by thankless Man,

Most favour'd; who with voice articulateShould lead the chorus of this lower world?Shall he, so soon forgetful of the handThat hush'd the thunder, and serenes the sky, 1235Extinguish'd feel that spark the tempest wak'd,That sense of powers exceeding far his own,Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears?

Chear'd by the milder beam, the sprightly youthSpeeds to the well-known pool, whose crystal depth 1240A sandy bottom shews. A while he standsGazing th' inverted landskip, half-afraidTo meditate the blue profound below;Then plunges headlong down the circling flood.His ebon tresses, and his rosy cheek 1245Instant emerge; and thro' the obedient wave,At each short breathing by his lip repell'd,With arms and legs according well, he makes,As humour leads, an easy-winding path;While, from his polish'd sides, a dewy light1250Effuses on the pleas'd spectators round.

This is the purest exercise of health,The kind refresher of the summer-heats;Nor, when cold Winter keens the brightening flood,Would I weak-shivering linger on the brink. 1255Thus life redoubles, and is oft preserv'd,By the bold swimmer, in the swift illapseOf accident disastrous. Hence the limbsKnit into force; and the same Roman arm,That rose victorious o'er the conquer'd earth, 1260First learn'd, while tender, to subdue the wave.Even, from the body's purity, the mindReceives a secret sympathetic aid.

Close in the covert of an hazel copse,Where winded into pleasing solitudes 1265

Runs out the rambling dale, young Damon sat,Pensive, and pierc'd with love's delightful pangs.There to the stream that down the distant rocksHoarse-murmuring fell, and plaintive breeze that play'dAmong the bending willows, falsely he 1270Of Musidora's cruelty complain'd.She felt his flame; but deep within her breast,In bashful coyness, or in maiden pride,The soft return conceal'd; save when it stoleIn side-long glances from her downcast eye,1275Or from her swelling soul in stifled sighs.Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to his vows,He fram'd a melting lay, to try her heart;And, if an infant passion struggled there,To call that passion forth. Thrice happy swain! 1280A lucky chance, that oft decides the fateOf mighty monarchs, then decided thine.For lo! conducted by the laughing LovesThis cool retreat his Musidora sought:Warm in her cheek the sultry season glow'd 1285And, rob'd in loose array, she came to batheHer fervent limbs in the refreshing stream.What shall he do? In sweet confusion lost,And dubious flutterings, he a while remain'd:A pure ingenuous elegance of soul,1290A delicate refinement, known to few,Perplex'd his breast, and urg'd him to retire:But love forbade. Ye prudes in virtue, say,Say, ye severest, what would you have done?Meantime, this fairer nymph than ever blest 1295Arcadian stream, with timid eye aroundThe banks surveying, strip'd her beauteous limbs,To taste the lucid coolness of the flood.Ah then! not Paris on the piny topOf Ida panted stronger, when aside 1300

The rival-goddesses the veil divineCast unconfin'd, and gave him all their charms,Than, Damon, thou; as from the snowy leg,And slender foot, th' inverted silk she drew;As the soft touch dissolv'd the virgin zone;1305And, thro' the parting robe, th' alternate breast,With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gazeIn full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth,How durst thou risque the soul-distracting view;As from her naked limbs, of glowing white,1310Harmonious swell'd by Nature's finest hand,In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn;And fair-expos'd she stood, shrunk from herself,With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breezeAlarm'd, and starting like the fearful fawn?1315Then to the flood she rush'd; the parted floodIts lovely guest with closing waves receiv'd;And every beauty softening, every graceFlushing anew, a mellow luster shed;As shines the lily thro' the crystal mild;1320Or as the rose, amid the morning-dewFresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows.While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the waveBut ill-conceal'd; and now with streaming locks,That half-embrac'd her in a humid veil,1325Rising again, the latent Damon drewSuch madning draughts of beauty to the soul,As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thoughtWith luxury too-daring. Check'd, at last,By love's respectful modesty, he deem'd1330The theft profane, if aught profane to loveCan e'er be deem'd; and, struggling from the shade,With headlong hurry fled: but first these lines,Trac'd by his ready pencil, on the bankWith trembling hand he threw. "Bathe on, my fair,1335

Yet unbeheld save by the sacred eyeOf faithful love. I go to guard thy haunt,To keep from thy recess each vagrant foot,And each licentious eye." With wild surprize,As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, 1340A stupid moment motionless she stood:So stands the statue that enchants the world,So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.Recovering, swift she flew to find those robes1345Which blissful Eden knew not; and, array'dIn careless haste, th' alarming paper snatch'd.But, when her Damon's well-known hand she saw,Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer trainOf mixt emotions, hard to be describ'd,1350Her sudden bosom seiz'd: shame void of guilt,The charming blush of innocence, esteemAnd admiration of her lover's flame,By modesty exalted: even a senseOf self-approving beauty stole across1355Her busy thought. At length, a tender calmHush'd by degrees the tumult of her soul;And on the spreading beech, that o'er the streamIncumbent hung, she with the silvan penOf rural lovers this confession carv'd,1360Which soon her Damon kiss'd with weeping joy:"Dear Youth! sole judge of what these verses mean,By fortune too much favour'd, but by love,Alas! not favour'd less, be still as nowDiscreet: the time may come you need not fly."1365

The sun has lost his rage: his downward orbShoots nothing now but animating warmth,

And vital lustre; that, with various ray,Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of heaven,Incessant roll'd into romantic shapes,1370The dream of waking fancy! Broad below,Cover'd with ripening fruits, and swelling fastInto the perfect year, the pregnant earthAnd all her tribes rejoice. Now the soft hourOf walking comes: for him who lonely loves1375To seek the distant hills, and there converseWith Nature; there to harmonize his heart,And in pathetic song to breathe aroundThe harmony to others. Social friends,Attun'd to happy unison of soul;1380To whose exalting eye a fairer world,Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse,Displays its charms; whose minds are richly fraughtWith philosophic stores, superior light;And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns1385Virtue, the sons of interest deem romance;Now call'd abroad enjoy the falling day:Now to the verdant Portico of woods,To Nature's vast Lyceum, forth they walk;By that kind School where no proud master reigns,1390The full free converse of the friendly heart,Improving and improv'd. Now from the world,Sacred to sweet retirement, lovers steal,And pour their souls in transport, which the SireOf love approving hears, and calls it good.1395Which way, Amanda, shall we bend our course?The choice perplexes. Wherefore should we chuse?All is the fame with thee. Say, shall we windAlong the streams? or walk the smiling mead?Or court the forest-glades? or wander wild1400Among the waving harvests? or ascend,While radiant summer opens all its pride,

Tliy hill, delightful Shene? here let us sweepThe boundless landskip: now the raptur'd eye.Exulting swift, to huge Augusta fend,1405Now to the Sister-Hills that skirt her plain,To lofty Harrow now, and now to whereMajestic Windsor lifts his princely brow.In lovely contrast to this glorious view,Calmly magnificent, then will we turn1410To where the silver Thames first rural grows.There let the feasted eye unwearied stray:Luxurious, there, rove thro' the pendant woodsThat nodding hang o'er Harrington's retreat;And, stooping thence to Ham's embowering walks,1415Beneath whose shades, in spotless peace retir'd,With Her the pleasing partner of his heart,The worthy Queensb'ry yet laments his Gay,And polish'd Cornbury wooes the willing Muse,Slow let us trace the matchless Vale of Thames;1420Fair-winding up to where the Muses hauntIn Twit'nam's bowers, and for their Pope imploreThe healing God; to royal Hampton's pile,To Clermont's terrass'd height, and Esher's groves,Where in the sweetest solitude, embrac'd1425By the soft windings of the silent Mole,From courts and senates Pelham finds repose.Inchanting vale! beyond whate'er the MuseHas of Achaia or Hesperia sung!O vale of bliss! O softly-swelling hills!1430On which the power of Cultivation lies,And joys to see the wonders of his toil.

Heavens! what a goodly prospect spreads around,Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,

And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all 1435The stretching landskip into smoke decays!Happy Britannia! where the Queen of Arts,Inspiring vigor, Liberty abroadWalks, unconfin'd, even to thy farthest cotts,And scatters plenty with unsparing hand. 1440

Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime;Thy streams unfailing in the summer's drought;Unmatch'd thy guardian-oaks; thy valleys floatWith golden waves: and on thy mountains fllocksBleat numberless; while roving round their sides, 1445Bellow the blackening herds in lusty droves.Beneath, thy meadows glow, and rise unquell'dAgainst the mower's scythe. On every hand,Thy villas shine. Thy country teems with wealth;And property assures it to the swain, 1450Pleas'd, and unwearied, in his guarded toil.

Full are thy cities with the sons of art;And trade and joy, in every busy street,Mingling are heard: even drudgery him self,As at the car he sweats, or dusty hews 1455The palace-stone, looks gay. Thy crouded ports,Where rising masts an endless prospect yield,With labour burn, and echo to the shoutsOf hurried sailor, as he hearty wavesHis last adieu, and loosening every sheet, 1460Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind.

Bold, firm, and graceful, are thy generous youth;By hardship sinew'd, and by danger fir'd,Scattering the nations where they go; and first

Or on the listed plain, or wintry seas.1465Mild are thy glories too, as o'er the plansOf thriving peace thy thoughtful fires preside;In genius, and substantial learning, high;For every virtue, every worth, renown'd;Sincere, plain-hearted, hospitable, kind;1470Yet like the mustering thunder when provok'd.The dread of tyrants, and the sole resourceOf those that under grim oppression groan.

Thy Sons of glory many! Alfred thine,In whom the splendor of heroic war,1475And more heroic peace, when govern'd well.Combine; whose hallow'd name the Virtues saint,And his own Muses love; the best of Kings!With him thy Edwards and thy Henrys shine,Names dear to fame; the first who deep impress'd1480On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms,That awes her genius still. In Statesmen thou,And Patriots fertile. Thine a steady More,Who, with a generous tho' mistaken zeal,Withstood a brutal tyrant's useful rage,1485Like Cato firm, like Aristides just,Like rigid Cincinnatus nobly poor.A dauntless soul erect, who smil'd on death.Frugal, and wise, a Walsingham is thine;A Drake, who made thee mistress of the deep,1490And bore thy name in thunder round the world.Then flam'd thy spirit high: but who can speakThe numerous worthies of the Maiden Reign?In Raleigh mark their every glory mix'd,Raleigh, the scourge of Spain! whose breast with all1495The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn'd.Nor sunk his vigour, when a coward-reignThe warrior fettered, and at last resign'd,

To glut the vengeance of a vanquish'd foe.Then, active still and unrestrain'd, his mind 1500Explor'd the vast extent of ages past,And with his prison-hours enrich'd the world;Yet found no times, in all the long research,So glorious, or so base, as those he prov'd,In which he conquer'd, and in which he bled. 1505Nor can the Muse the gallant Sidney pass,The plume of war! with early laurels crown'd,The lover's myrtle, and the poet's bay.A Hamden too is thine, illustrious land,Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul, 1510Who item'd the torrent of a downward ageTo slavery prone, and bade thee rise again,In all thy native pomp of freedom bold.Bright, at his call, thy age of Men effulg'd,Of Men on whom late time a kindling eye 1515Shall turn, and tyrants tremble while they read.Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strewThe grave where Russel lies; whose temper'd bloodWith calmest chearfulness for thee resign'd,Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign;1520Aiming at lawless power, tho' meanly sunkIn loose inglorious luxury. With himHis friend, the British Cassius, fearless bled;Of high determin'd spirit, roughly brave,By antient learning to th' enlightened love 1525Of antient freedom warm'd. Fair thy renownIn awful Sages and in noble Bards;Soon as the light of dawning Science spreadHer orient ray, and wak'd the Muses' song.Thine is a Bacon, hapless in his choice, 1530Unfit to stand the civil storm of state,And thro' the smooth barbarity of courts,

With firm but pliant virtue, forward stillTo urge his course. Him for the studious shadeKind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear, 1535Exact, and elegant; in one rich soul,Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tully join'd.The great deliverer he! who from the gloomOf cloister'd monks, and jargon-teaching schools,Led forth the true philosophy, there long 1540Held in the magic chain of word and forms,And definitions void: he led her forth,Daughter of Heaven! that, slow-ascending still,Investigating sure the chain of things,With radiant finger points to Heaven again. 1545The generous Ashley thine, the friend of Man;Who scann'd his Nature with a brother's eye,His weakness prompt to shade, to raise his aim,To touch the finer movements of the mind,And with the moral beauty charm the heart. 1550Why need I name thy Boyle, whose pious searchAmid the dark recesses of his works,The great Creator sought? and why thy Locke,Who made the whole internal world his own?Let Newton, pure Intelligence, whom God 1555To mortals lent, to trace his boundless worksFrom laws sublimely simple, speak thy fameIn all philosophy. For lofty sense,Creative fancy, and inspection keenThro' the deep windings of the human heart 1560Is not wild Shakespeare thine and Nature's boast?Is not each great, each amiable MuseOf classic ages in thy Milton met?A genius universal as his theme,Astonishing as chaos, as the bloom 1565Of blowing Eden fair, as heaven sublime.

Nor shall my verse that elder bard forget,The gentle Spencer, Fancy's pleasing son;Who, like a copious river, pour'd his songO'er all the mazes of enchanted ground: 1570Nor thee, his antient master, laughing sage,Chaucer, whose native manners-painting verse,Well-moraliz'd, shines thro' the Gothic cloudOf time and language o'er thy genius thrown.

May my song soften, as thy Daughters I, 1575Britannia, hail! for beauty is their own,The feeling heart, simplicity of life,And elegance, and taste: the faultless form,Shap'd by the hand of harmony; the cheek,Where the live crimson, thro' the native white 1580Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom,And every nameless grace; the parted lip,Like the red rose-bud moist with morning-dew,Breathing delight; and, under flowing jet,Or sunny ringlets, or of circling brown, 1585The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast;The look resistless, piercing to the soul,And by the soul inform'd, when drest in loveShe sits high-smiling in the conscious eye.

Island of bliss! amid the subject seas, 1590That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up,At once the wonder, terror, and delight,Of distant nations; whose remotest shoresCan soon be shaken by thy naval arm;Not to be shook thyself, but all assaults 1595Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave.

O Thou! by whose almighty Nod the scaleOf empire rises, or alternate falls,Send forth the saving Virtues round the land,In bright patrol: white Peace, and social Love; 1600The tender-looking Charity, intentOn gentle deeds, and shedding tears thro' smiles;Undaunted Truth and Dignity of mind;Courage compos'd, and keen; found Temperance,Healthful in heart and look; clear Chastity, 1605With blushes reddening as she moves along,Disordered at the deep regard she draws;Rough Industry; Activity untir'd,With copious life inform'd, and all awake:While, in the radiant front, superior shines 1610That first paternal virtue, Public Zeal;Who throws o'er all an equal wide survey.And, ever musing on the common weal,Still labours glorious with some great design.

Low walks the sun, and broadens by degrees, 1615Just o'er the verge of day. The shifting cloudsAssembled gay, a richly-gorgeous train,In all their pomp attend his setting throne.Air, earth, and ocean smile immense. And now,As if his weary chariot fought the bowers 1620Of Amphitrite, and her tending Nymphs,(So Grecian fable sung) he dips is Orb;Now half-immers'd; and now a golden curveGives one bright glance, then total disappears.

For ever running, an enchanted round, 1725Passes the day, deceitful, vain, and void;As fleets the vision o'er the formful brain,This moment hurrying wild th' impassion'd soul,

The next in nothing lost. 'Tis so to him,The dreamer of this earth, an idle blank: 1630A sight of horror to the cruel wretch,Who all day long in sordid pleasure roll'd,Himself an useless load, has squander'd vile,Upon his scoundrel train, what might have chear'dA drooping family of modest worth. 1635But to the generous still-improving mind,That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy,Diffusing kind beneficence around,Boastless, as now descends the sielent dew;To him the long review of order'd life 1640Is inward rapture, only to be felt.

Confess'd from yonder slow-extinguish'd clouds,All ether softening, sober Evening takesHer wonted station in the middle air;A thousand shadows at her beck. First this 1645She sends on earth; then that of deeper dyeSteals soft behind; and then a deeper still,In circle following circle, gathers round,To close the face of things. A fresher galeBegins to wave the wood, and stir the stream, 1650Sweeping with shadowy gust the fields of corn;While the quail clamours for his running mate.Wide o'er the thistly lawn, as swells the breeze,A whitening shower of vegetable downAmusive floats. The kind impartial care 1655Of Nature nought disdains: thoughtful to feedHer lowest sons, and clothe the coming year,From field to field the feather'd feeds she wings.

His folded flock secure, the shepherd homeHies, merry-hearted; and by turns relieves 1660

The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming pail;The beauty whom perhaps his witless heart,Unknowing what the joy-mixt anguish means,Sincerely loves, by that best language shewnOf cordial glances, and obliging deeds. 1665Onward they pass, o'er many a panting height,And valley sunk, and unfrequented; whereAt fall of eve the fairy people throng,In various game, and revelry to passThe summer-night, as village-stories tell. 1670But far about they wander from the graveOf him, whom his ungentle fortune urg'dAgainst his own sad breast to lift the handOf impious violence. The lonely towerIs also shun'd; whose mournful chambers hold, 1675So night-struck Fancy dreams, the yelling ghost.

Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge,The glow-worm lights his gem; and, thro' the dark,A moving radiance twinkles. Evening yieldsThe world to Night; not in her winter-robe 1680Of massy Stygian woof, but loose array'dIn mantle dun. A faint erroneous ray,Glanc'd from th' imperfect surfaces of things,Flings half an image on the straining eye;While wavering woods, and villages, and streams, 1685And rocks, and mountain-tops, that long retain'dTh' ascending gleam, are all one swimming scene,Uncertain if beheld. Sudden to heavenThence weary vision turns; where, leading softThe silent hours of love, with purest ray 1690Sweet Venus shines; and from her genial rise,When day-light sickens till it springs afresh,Unrival'd reigns, the fairest damp of night,

As thus th' effulgence tremulous I drink,With cherish'd gaze, the lambent lightnings shoot 1995Across the sky; or horizontal dart,In wondrous shapes: by fearful murmuring croudsPortentous deem'd. Amid the radiant orbs,That more than deck, that animate the sky,The life-infusing suns of other worlds; 1700Lo! from the dread immensity of spaceReturning, with accelerated course,The rushing comet to the sun descends;And as he sinks below the shading earth,With awful train projected o'er the heavens, 1705The guilty nations tremble. But, aboveThose superstitious horrors that enslaveThe fond sequacious herd, to mystic faithAnd blind amazement prone, th' englighten'd few,Whose godlike minds philosophy exalts, 1710The glorious stranger hail. They feel a joyDivinely great; they in their powers exult,That wondrous force of thought, which mounting spurnsThis dusky spot, and measures all the sky;While, from his far excursion thro' the wilds 1715Of barren ether, faithful to his time,They see the blazing wonder rise anew,In seeming terror clad, but kindly bentTo work the will of all-sustaining Love:From his huge vapoury train perhaps to shake 1720Reviving moisture on the numerous orbs,Thro' which his long ellipsis winds; perhaps

To lend new fuel to declining suns,To light up worlds, and feed th' ethernal fire.

With thee, serene Philosophy! with thee, 1725And thy bright garland, let me crown my song!Effusive source of evidence, and truth!A luster shedding o'er th' ennobled mind,Stronger than summer-noon; and pure as that,Whose mild vibrations sooth the parted soul, 1720New to the dawning of celestial day.Hence thro' her nourish'd powers, enlarg'd by thee,She springs aloft, with elevated pride,Above the tangling mass of low desires,That bind the fluttering croud; and angel-wing'd, 1735The heights of science and of virtue gains,Where all is calm and clear; with Nature round,Or in the starry regions, or th' abyss,To Reason's, and to Fancy's eye display'd:The First up-tracing, from the dreary void, 1740The chain of causes and effects to Him,The world-producing Essence, who alonePossesses being; while the Last receivesThe whole magnificence of heaven and earth,And every beauty, delicate or bold, 1745Obvious or more remote, with livelier sense,Diffusive painted on the rapid mind.

Tutor'd by thee, hence Poetry exaltsHer voice to ages; and informs the page

With music, image, sentiment, and thought, 1750Never to die! the treasure of mankind!Their highest honour, and their truest joy!

Without thee what were unenlightened Man?A savage roaming thro' the woods and wildsIn quest of prey; and with th' unfashion'd fur 1755Rough clad; devoid of every finer art,And elegance of life. Nor happinessDomestic, mix'd of tenderness and care,Nor moral excellence, nor social bliss,Nor guardian law were his; nor various skill 1760To turn the furrow, or to guide the toolMechanic; nor the heaven-conducted prowOf navigation bold, that fearless bravesThe burning line or dares the wintry pole,Mother severe of infinite delights 1765Nothing, save rapine, indolence, and guile,And woes on woes, a still-revolving train!Whose horrid circle had made human lifeThan non-existence worse: but, taught by theeOurs are the plans of policy, and peace; 1770To live like brothers, and conjunctive allEmbellish life. While thus laborious croudsPly the though oar, Philosophy directsThe ruling helm; or like the liberal breathOf potent heaven, invisible, the sail 1775Swells out, and bears th' inferior world along.

Nor to this evanescent speck of earthPoorly confin'd, the radiant tracts on highAre her exalted range; intent to gazeCreation thro'; and, from that full complex 1780Of never-ending wonders, to conceiveOf the sole Being right, who spoke the word,And Nature mov'd compleat. With inward View,Thence on th' ideal kingdom swift she turnsHer eye; and instant, at her powerful glance, 1785Th' obedient phantoms vanish or appear;Compound, divide, and into order shiftEach to his rank, from plain perception upTo the fair forms of Fancy's fleeting train:To reason then, deducing truth from truth; 1790And notion quite abstract; where first beginsThe world of spirits, action all, and lifeUnfetter'd, and unmix'd. But here the cloud,So wills Eternal Providence, sits deep.Enough for us to know that this dark state, 1795In wayward passions lost, and vain pursuits,This infancy of being, cannot proveThe final issue of the works of God.By boundless Love and perfect Wisdom form'd.And ever rising with the rising mind.1800