Джеймс Томсон (James Thomson)

The Four Seasons. Summer

ROM 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;⁠
While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring
Averts 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;⁠
And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink
Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak
Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large,
And sing the glories of the circling year.

⁠Come, Inspiration! from thy hermit-seat,⁠
By mortal seldom found: may Fancy dare,
From thy fix'd serious eye, and raptur'd glance
Shot on surrounding Heaven, to steal one look
Creative of the Poet, every power
Exalting to an Ecstasy of soul.⁠

⁠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, ⁠
In 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, ⁠
And teach me to deserve thy just Applause.

⁠With what an awful world-revolving power
Were first th' unwieldy planets launch'd along
Th' illimitable void! Thus to remain,
Amid the flux of many thousand years,⁠
That 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,⁠
Minutely 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:⁠
And 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,⁠
White 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 top
Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn.⁠

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

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

⁠But yonder comes the powerful King of Day,
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud,
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow
Illum'd with fluid gold, his near approach
Betoken glad. Lo! now, apparent all,⁠
Aslant 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! ⁠
Of all material beings first, and best!
Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe!
Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt
In unessential gloom; and thou, O Sun!
Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen⁠
Shines 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 bourne
Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round ⁠
Of thirty years; to Mercury, whofe disk
Can 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 ⁠
Were 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,⁠
The mixing myriads of thy setting beam.

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

High-seen, the Seasons lead, in sprightly dance
Harmonious 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.⁠
These, 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,⁠
Graceful 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; ⁠
Hence Labour draws his tools; hence burnish'd War
Gleams on the day; the nobler works of Peace
Hence bless mankind, and generous Commerce binds
The round of nations in a golden chain.

⁠Th' unfruitful rock, itself impregn'd by thee,⁠
In 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,⁠
With 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, takes
Its hue cerulean; and, of evening tinct,⁠
The 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,⁠
Thick thro' the whitening Opal play thy beams;
Or, flying several from its surface, form
A trembling variance of revolving hues,
As the site varies in the gazer's hand.

⁠The very dead creation, from thy touch, ⁠
Assumes a mimic life. By thee refin'd,
In brighter mazes the relucent stream
Plays o'er the mead. The precipice abrupt,
Projecting horror on the blackened flood,
Softens at thy return. The desart joys ⁠
Wildly, 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, ⁠
And all the much-transported Muse can sing.
Are to thy beauty, dignity, and use,
Unequal far, great delegated source
Of light, and life, and grace, and joy below!

⁠How shall I then attempt to sing of Him, ⁠
Who, Light Himself, in uncreated light
Invested deep, dwells awfully retir'd
From mortal eye, or angel's purer ken;
Whose single smile has, from the first of time,
Fill'd, overflowing, all those lamps of Heaven, ⁠
That 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 start
Wide from their spheres, and Chaos come again.

⁠And yet was every faultering tongue of Man, ⁠
Almighty 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, ⁠
Th' 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, ⁠
My sole delight; as thro' the falling glooms
Pensive I stray, or with the rising dawn
On Fancy's eagle-wing excursive soar.

⁠Now, flaming up the heavens, the potent fun
Melts into limpid air the high-rais'd clouds, ⁠
And morning fogs that hover'd round the hills
In party-colour'd bands; till wide unveil'd
The 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, ⁠
Dew-dropping Coolness to the shade retires;
There on the verdant tnrf, or flowery bed
By gelid founts and careless rills to muse:
While tyrant Heat, dispreading thro' the sky,
With rapid fway, his burning influence darts ⁠
On 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. ⁠
But 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; ⁠
His flock before him stepping to the fold:
While the full-udder'd mother lows around
The chearful cottage, then expelling food,
The food of innocence, and health! the daw
The rook and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks ⁠
That 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; ⁠
And, in a corner of the buzzing shade,
The house-dog, with the vacant greyhound, lies,
Out-stretch'd, and sleepy. In his slumbers one
Attacks the nightly thief, and one exults
O'er hill and dale; till wakened by the wasp, ⁠
They starting snap. Nor shall the Muse disdain
To let the little noisy summer-race
Live in her lay, and flutter through her songs
Not mean tho' simple: to the sun ally'd,
From him they draw their animating fire. ⁠

⁠Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young
Come wing'd abroad; by the light air upborn,
Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink,
And secret corner, where they slept away
The wintry storms; or rising from their tombs, ⁠
To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,
Swarming they pour; of all the vary'd hues
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose.
Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes!
People the blaze. To sunny waters some ⁠
By 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 glade
Some love to stray; there lodg'd, amus'd and fed, ⁠
In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make
The 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, ⁠
Employs 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 stream
They meet their fate; or, weltering in the bowl, ⁠
With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire.

⁠But chief to heedless flies the window proves
A constant death; where, gloomily retir'd,
The villain spider lives, cunning, and fierce.
Mixture abhorr'd! Amid a mangled heap ⁠
Of carcasses, in eager watch he sits,
O'erlooking all his waving snares around.
Near the dire cell the dreadless wanderer oft
Passes, as oft the ruffian shows his front;
The prey at last ensnar'd, he dreadful darts, ⁠
With 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. ⁠

⁠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 ⁠
Of 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 mass
Of animals, or atoms organiz'd,⁠
Waiting the vital Breath, when Parent-Heaven
Shall bid his spirit blow. The hoary fen,
In putrid steams, emits the living cloud
Of pestilence. Thro' subterranean cells,
Where searching sun-beams scarce can find a way⁠
Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf
Wants not its soft inhabitants. Secure,
Within its winding citadel, the stone
Holds multitudes. But chief the forest-boughs,
That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze,⁠
The downy orchard, and the melting pulp
Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed
Of evanescent insects. Where the pool
Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible,
Amid the floating verdure millions stray.⁠
Each liquid too, whether it pierces, sooths.
Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste,
With various forms abounds. Nor is the firearm
Of purest crystal, nor the lucid air,
Tho' one transparent vacancy it seems,⁠
Void of their unseen people. These, conceal'd
By the kind art of forming Heaven, escape
The grosser eye of Man: for, if the worlds
In worlds inclos'd should on his senses burst,
From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl,⁠
He would abhorrent turn; and in dead night,
When silence sleeps o'er all, be stun'd with noise.

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

In vain, or not for admirable ends. ⁠
Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce
His works unwise, of which the smallest part
Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind?
As if upon a full-proportion'd dome,
On swelling Columns heav'd, the pride of art! 
A critic-fly, whose feeble ray scarce spreads
An inch around, with blind presumption bold,
Should dare to tax the structure of the whole.
And lives the Man, whose universal eye
Has swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things: ⁠
Mark'd their dependance so, and firm accord,
As with unfaultering accent to conclude
That This evaileth nought? has any seen
The mighty chain of beings, lessening down
From Infinite Perfection to the brink ⁠
Of 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,
As 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. ⁠
Even so luxurious Men, unheeding, pass
An idle summer-life in fortune's shine,
A season's glitter! thus they flutter on
From toy to toy, from vanity to vice;
Till, blown away by death, oblivon comes ⁠
Behind, 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-rose
Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid,⁠
Half-naked, swelling on the sight, and all
Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek.
Even stooping age is here; and infant-hands
Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load
O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll.⁠
Wide flies the tedded grain; all in a row
Advancing 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,⁠
And 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 voice
Of happy labour, love, and social glee.⁠

⁠Or rushing thence, in one diffusive band,
They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog
Compell'd, to where the mazy-running brook
Forms a deep pool: this bank abrupt and high,
And that fair-spreading in a pebbled shore.⁠
Urg'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 flood
Commit their woolly sides. And oft the swain,
On some impatient seizing, hurls them in:⁠
Embolden'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 fleece
Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt⁠
The trout is banish'd by the sordid stream;
Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow

Slow-move the harmless race: where, as they spread
Their swelling treasures to the sunny ray,
Inly disturb'd, and wondering what this wild⁠
Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints
The country fill; and, toss'd from rock to rock,
Incessant bleatings run around the hills.
At last, of snowy white, the gather'd flocks
Are in the wattled pen innumerous press'd,⁠
Head 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,⁠
Shines o'er the rest, the pastoral queen, and rays
Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king;
While the glad circle round them yield their souls
To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall.
Meantime, their joyous task goes on apace:⁠
Some 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 boy⁠
Holds 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,⁠
What dumb complaining innocence appears!
Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the knife
Of 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,⁠
Borrow'd your fleece, to you a cumbrous load,
Will send you bounding to your hills again.

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

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

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

And restless turn, and look around for Night;
Night is far off; and hotter hours approach.
Thrice happy he! that on the sunless side
Of a romantic mountain, forest-crown'd,
Beneath the whole collected shade reclines:⁠
Or 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,⁠
Who 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!⁠
Ye 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 sides
Laves, as he floats along the herbag'd brink,⁠
Cool, thro' the nerves, your pleasing comfort glides;
The heart beats glad; the fresh-expanded eye
And ear resume their watch; the sinews knit;
And life shoots swift thro' all the lightened limbs.

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

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

⁠Light fly his slumbers, if perchance a flight
Of angry gad-flies fasten on the herd;
That startling scatters from the shallow brook, ⁠
In 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 moan
Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills. ⁠

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, ⁠
And 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.⁠

⁠Still let me pierce into the midnight depth
Of 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, ⁠
And all is awful listening gloom around.

⁠These are the haunts of Meditation, these
The scenes where ancients bards th' inspiring breath,
Extatic, felt; and, from this world retir'd,
Conversed with angels, and immortal forms, ⁠
On gracious errands bent: to save the fall
Of virtue, struggling on the brink of vice;
In waking whispers, and repeated dreams,
To hint pure thought, and warn the favour'd soul
For future trials fated to prepare; ⁠
To prompt the poet, who devoted gives
His muse to better themes; to soothe the pangs
Of dying worth, and from the patriot's breast,
(Backward to mingle in detested war,
But foremost when engag'd) to turn the death; ⁠
And 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 ⁠
A sacred terror, and severe delight,
Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, methinks,
A voice, than human more, th' abstracted ear
Of fancy strikes. "Be not of us afraid,
Poor kindred Man! thy fellow-creatures, we ⁠
From 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 attain
This holy calm, this harmony of mind, ⁠
Where purity and peace immingle charms.
Then, fear not us; but with responsive song,
Amid these dim recesses, undisturb'd
By noisy folly and discordant vice,
Of Nature sing with us, and Nature's God. ⁠

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:⁠
A privilege bellow'd by us, alone,
On contemplation, or the hallow'd ear
Of Poet, swelling to seraphic strain."

⁠And art thou, Stanley, of that sacred band?
Alas, for us too soon!—tho' rais'd above⁠
The reach of human pain, above the flight
Of human joy; yet, with a mingled ray
Of sadly-pleas'd remembrance, must thou feel
A mother's love, a mother's tender woe:
Who seeks thee still, in many a former scene;⁠
Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely-beaming eyes,
Thy pleasing converse, by gay lively sense
Inspir'd; where moral wisdom mildly shone,
Without the toil of art; and virtue glow'd,
In all her smiles, without forbidding pride.⁠
But, O thou best of parents! wipe thy tears;
Or rather to Parental Nature pay
The tears of grateful joy, who for a while
Lent thee this younger-self, this opening bloom
Of thy enlighten'd mind and gentle worth.⁠
Believe the Muse: the wintry blast of death
Kills 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,⁠
I stray, regardless whither; till the sound

Of a near fall of water every sense
Wakes 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 ⁠
Rolls fair, and placid; where collected all,
In one impetuous torrent, down the steep
It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.
At first, an azure sheet, it rushes broad;
Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls, ⁠
And from the loud-resounding rocks below
Dash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft
A hoary mill, and forms a ceaseless shower.
Nor can the tortur'd wave here find repose:
But, raging still amid the shaggy rocks, ⁠
Now flashes o'er the scatter'd fragments, now
Aslant 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, ⁠
Along the mazes of the quiet vale.

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

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

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

⁠Now, while I taste the sweetness of the shade,
While Nature lies around deep-lull'd in Noon, ⁠
Now 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, ⁠
Rising direct, swift chases from the sky
The short-liv'd twilight; and with ardent blaze
Looks gayly fierce thro' all the dazzling air:
He mounts his throne; but kind before him sends,
Issuing from out the portals of the morn, ⁠
The general Breeze, to mitigate his fire,
And breathe refreshment on a fainting world.
Great are the scenes, with dreadful beauty crown'd
And barbarous wealth, that see, each circling year,
Returning suns and double seasons pass: ⁠
Rocks 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; ⁠
Or 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 floods
Prone-rushing from the clouds, rear high to Heaven ⁠
Their thorny steams, and broad around them throw
Meridian gloom. Here, in eternal prime,
Unnumber'd fruits, of keen delicious taste
And vital spirit, drink amid the cliffs,
And burning lands that bank the shrubby vales, ⁠
Redoubled day, yet in their rugged coats
A 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, ⁠
Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclin'd
Beneath 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, ⁠
Embowering 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. ⁠
O 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 juice
Which Bacchus pours. Nor, on its slender twigs ⁠

Low-bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd;
Nor, creeping thro' the woods, the gelid race
Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells
Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp.
Witness, thou best Anana, thou the pride ⁠
Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er
The 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 ⁠
Lie 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, ⁠
Plays o'er the fields, and showers with sudden hand
Exuberant spring: for oft these valleys shift
Their green-embroider'd robe to fiery brown,
And swift to green again, as scorching suns,
Or streaming dews and torrent rains, prevail. ⁠

⁠Along these lonely regions, where retir'd,
From little scenes of art, great Nature dwells
In awful solitude, and nought is seen
But the wild herds that own no master's stall,
Prodigious rivers roll their fatning seas: ⁠
On 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, ⁠
The 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. ⁠

⁠Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that cast
Their 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, ⁠
Leans the huge elephant: wisest of brutes!
O truly wise! with gentle might endow'd,
Tho' powerful, not destructive! Here he sees
Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth,
And empires rise and fall; regardless he ⁠
Of what the never-resting race of Men
Project: 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, ⁠
And 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, ⁠
That with a sportive vanity has deck'd
The plumy nations, there her gayest hues
Profusely pours. But, if she bids them shine,
Array'd in all the beauteous beams of day,
Yet frugal still, she humbles them in song. ⁠
Nor envy we the gaudy robes they lent
Proud Montezuma's realm, whose legions cast
A boundless radiance waving on the sun,

While Philomel is ours; while in our shades,
Thro' the soft silence of the listening night,⁠
The 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 ⁠
The Nubian mountains, and the secrets bounds
Of jealous Abyssinia boldly pierce.
Thou art no ruffian, who beneath the mask
Of social commerce com'st to rob their wealth;
No holy Fury thou, blaspheming Heaven, ⁠
With 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. ⁠
From 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, ⁠
For 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; ⁠
And fountains gush; and careless herds and flocks
Securely stray; a world within itfelf,
Disdaining all assault: there let me draw
Etherial soul, there drink reviving gales,
Profusely breathing from the spicy groves, ⁠
And vales of fragrance; there at distance hear
The 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:⁠
A land of wonders! which the sun still eyes
With ray direct, as of the lovely realm
Inamour'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.⁠
Still 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 air
Admits their stream, incessant vapours roll,⁠
Amazing 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'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
Dissolv'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 floods! o'erflows the swelling Nile.⁠
From his two springs, in Gojam's sunny 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 isles⁠

That with unfading verdure smile around.
Ambitious, thence the manly river breaks;
And gathering many a flood, and copious fed
With all the mellow'd treasures of the sky,
Winds in progressive majesty along: ⁠
Thro' splendid kingdoms now devolves his maze,
Now wanders wild o'er solitary tracts
Of life-deserted sand; till, glad to quit
The joyless desart, 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 insect-lamps, to where Aurora sheds
On Indus' smiling banks the rosy 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 isles, 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.
Swell'd by a thousand streams, impetuous hurl'd
From all the roaring Andes, huge descends
The mighty Orellana. Scarce the Muse ⁠
Dares stretch her wing o'er this enormous mass

Of rushing water; scarce she dares attempt
The sea-like Plata; to whose dread expanse,
Continuous depth, and wondrous length of course,
Our floods are rills. With unabated force,⁠
In 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, ⁠
O'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'd
By christian crimes and Europe's cruel sons. ⁠
Thus 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? ⁠
This 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,⁠
Th' 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, hid
Deep in the bowels of the pitying earth, ⁠
Golconda'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,⁠

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 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 oppressive 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 selfish fierce desire,
And the wild fury of voluptuous sense, ⁠890
There lost. 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 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 curls
His flaming crest, all other thirst, appall'd, ⁠
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, arresting swift ⁠
The vital current. Form'd to humble Man,
This child of vengeful Nature! there, sublim'd
To fearless lust of blood, the savage race
Roam, licens'd by the shading hour of guilt,
And foul misdeed, when the pure day has shut ⁠
His sacred eye. The tyger darting fierce,
Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd:
The lively-shining leopard, speckled o'er
With many a spot, the beauty of the waste;
And, scorning all the taming arts of Man, ⁠
The keen hyena, fellest of the fell.
These, rushing from th' inhospitable woods
Of Mauritania, or the tufted isles,
That verdant rise amid the Lybian wild,
Innumerous glare around their shaggy king, ⁠
Majestic, stalking o'er the printed sand;
And, with imperious and repeated roars,
Demand their fated food. The fearful flocks
Croud near the guardian swain; the nobler herds,
Where round their lordly bull, in rural ease,⁠
They ruminating lie, with horror hear
The coming rage. Th' awaken'd village starts;
And to her fluttering breast the mother strains
Her thoughtless infant. From the Pyrate's den,
Or stern Morocco's tyrant fang escap'd,⁠
The 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 ⁠
Amid 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, ⁠
Ships, dim-discovered, dropping from the clouds;
At evening, to the setting sun he turns
A mournful eye, and down his dying heart
Sinks helpless; while the wonted roar is up.
And hiss continual thro' the tedious night. ⁠
Yet here, even here, into these black abodes
Of monsters, unappall'd, from stooping Rome,
And guilty Cæsar, Liberty retir'd,
Her Cato following thro' Numidian wilds:
Disdainful of Campania's gentle plains, ⁠
And 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,⁠
Leet 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 smites
With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil, ⁠
Son 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: ⁠
Nearer and nearer still they darkening come;
Till, with the general all-involving storm
Swept up, the whole continuous wilds arise;
And by their noonday fount dejected thrown,
Or sunk at night in sad disastrous sleep, ⁠
Beneath descending hills, the caravan
Is 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 ⁠
Obeys 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, ⁠
And dire Ecnephia reign. Amid the heavens,
Falsely serene, deep in a cloudy speck
Compress'd, the mighty tempest brooding dwells.
Of no regard, save to the skilful eye,
Fiery and foul, the small prognostic hangs 
Aloft, or on the promontory's brow
Musters 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 ⁠
Of 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. ⁠
With 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 thirst
Of gold. For then from ancient gloom emerg'd ⁠
The 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 last
The Lusitanian Prince; who, Heav'n-inspir'd,⁠
To 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 ⁠
Of 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, ⁠
Demands his share of prey, demands themselves.
The stormy fates descend: one death involves
Tyrants and slaves; when strait, their mangled limbs
Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas
With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. ⁠

⁠When o'er this world, by equinoctial rains
Flooded 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,⁠
Impenetrable shades, recesses foul,
In vapours rank and blue corruption wrapt,
Whose gloomy horrors yet no desperate foot
Has ever dar'd to pierce; then, wasteful, forth
Walks the dire power of pestilent disease. ⁠
A thousand hideous fiends her course attend,

Sick Nature blasting, and to heartless woe,
And feeble desolation, casting down
The towering hopes and all the pride of Man.
Such as, of late, at Carthagena quench'd⁠
The British fire. You, gallant Vernon, saw
The miserable scene; you, pitying, saw
To infant weakness sunk the warrior's arm;
Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghastly form,
The lip pale-quivering, and the beamless eye⁠
No more with ardour bright: you heard the groans
Of 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,⁠
Silent, 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,⁠
From stifled Cairo's filth, and fetid fields
With locust-armies putrefying heap'd,
This great destroyer sprung. Her awful rage
The brutes escape: Man is her destin'd prey,
Intemperate Man! and, o'er his guilty domes,⁠
She draws a close incumbent cloud of death;
Uninterrupted by the living winds,
Forbid to blow a wholesome breeze; and stain'd
With many a mixture by the sun, suffus'd,
Of angry aspect. Princely wisdom, then,⁠
Dejects his watchful eye; and from the hand
Of feeble justice, ineffectual, drop
The sword and balance: mute the voice of joy,

And hush'd the clamour of the busy world.
Empty the streets, with uncouth verdure clad;⁠
Into the worst of desarts sudden turn'd
The chearful haunt of Men: unless escap'd
From the doom'd house, where matchless horror reigns,
Shut up by barbarous fear, the smitten wretch,
With frenzy wild, breaks loose; and, loud to heaven⁠
Screaming, the dreadful policy arraigns,
Inhuman, and unwise. The sullen door,
Yet uninfected, on its cautious hinge
Fearing to turn, abhors society:
Dependants, friends, relations, Love himself,⁠
Savag'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 pangs⁠
They fall, unblest, untended, and unmourn'd
Thus o'er the prostrate city black Despair
Extends her raven wing; while, to compleat
The scene of desolation, stretch'd around,
The grim guards stand, denying all retreat,⁠
And give the flying wretch a better death.

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

⁠Behold, slow-settling o'er the lurid grove
Unusual darkness broods; and growing gains
The full possession of the sky, surcharg'd⁠
With wrathful vapour, from the secret beds,
Where sleep the mineral generations, drawn.
Thence Niter, Sulphur, and the fiery spume
Of fat Bitumen, steaming on the day,
With various-tinctur'd trains of latent flame,⁠
Pollute 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 war
Of fighting winds, while all is calm below,⁠
They 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.⁠
Prone, to the lowest vale, th' aërial tribes
Descend: the tempest-loving raven scarce
Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze
The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens
Cast a deploring eye; by Man forsook,⁠
Who 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 glance
Appears far south, eruptive thro' the cloud;⁠
And 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,⁠
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more

The noise astounds: till over head a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide, then shuts
And opens wider, shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. ⁠
Follows the loosen'd, aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.

⁠Down comes a deluge of sonorous hail,
Or prone-descending rain. Wide-rent, the clouds, ⁠
Pour 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 ⁠
Stands a shattered trunk; and, stretch'd below,
A lifeless groupe the blasted cattle lie:
Here the soft flock, with that same harmless look
They wore alive, and ruminating still
In fancy's eye; and there the frowning bull, ⁠
And ox half-rais'd. Struck on the castled cliff,
The venerable tower and spiry fane
Resign their aged pride. The gloomy woods
Start at the flash, and from their deep recess,
Wide-flaming out, their trembling inmates shake. ⁠
Amid Carnavon's mountains rages loud
The repercussive roar: with mighty crush,
Into the flashing deep, from the rude rocks
Of Penmanmaur heap'd hideous to the sky,
Tumble the smitten cliffs; and Snowden's peak, ⁠
Dissolving, 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 ⁠

Descends the fated flash. Young Celadon
And 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,⁠
And 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 heart
Of innocence, and undissembling truth.
'Twas friendship heightened by the mutual wish, ⁠
Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow,
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all
To love, each was to each a dearer self;
Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power
Of giving joy. Alone, amid shades,⁠
Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'd
The 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, ⁠
The tempest caught them on the tender walk,
Heedless how far, and where its mazes stray'd,
While, with each other blest, creative love
Still bade eternal Eden smile around.
Presaging instant fate her bosom heav'd ⁠
Unwonted sighs, and stealing oft a look
Of the big gloom on Celadon her eye
Fell tearful, wetting her disordered cheek.
In vain assuring love, and confidence
In Heaven, repress'd her fear; it grew, and shook ⁠
Her frame near dissolution. He perceiv'd
Th' unequal conflict, and as angels look
On dying saints, his eyes compassion shed,

With love illumin'd high. "Fear not, he said,
Sweet innocence thou! stranger to offence,⁠
And inward storm! He, who yon skies involves
In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee,
With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft
That wastes at midnight, or th' undreaded hour
Of noon, flies harmless: and that very voice⁠
Which thunders terror thro' the guilty heart,
With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine.
'Tis safety to be near thee sure, and thus
To clasp perfection!" From his void embrace,
Mysterious Heaven! that moment, to the ground⁠
A 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,⁠
The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands,
For ever silent, and for ever sad.

⁠As from the face of heaven the shattered clouds
Tumultuous rove, th' interminable sky
Sublimer swells, and o'er the world expands ⁠
A purer azure. Nature, from the storm,
Shines out afresh; and thro' the lighten'd air
A higher luster and a clearer calm,
Diffusive, tremble; while, as if in sign
Of danger past, a glittering robe of joy, ⁠
Set 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 bleat
Of flocks thick-nibbling thro' the clover'd vale. ⁠
And shall the hymn be marr'd by thankless Man,

Most favour'd; who with voice articulate
Should lead the chorus of this lower world?
Shall he, so soon forgetful of the hand
That hush'd the thunder, and serenes the sky, ⁠
Extinguish'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 youth
Speeds to the well-known pool, whose crystal depth ⁠
A sandy bottom shews. A while he stands
Gazing th' inverted landskip, half-afraid
To meditate the blue profound below;
Then plunges headlong down the circling flood.
His ebon tresses, and his rosy cheek ⁠
Instant 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 light⁠
Effuses 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. ⁠
Thus life redoubles, and is oft preserv'd,
By the bold swimmer, in the swift illapse
Of accident disastrous. Hence the limbs
Knit into force; and the same Roman arm,
That rose victorious o'er the conquer'd earth, ⁠
First learn'd, while tender, to subdue the wave.
Even, from the body's purity, the mind
Receives a secret sympathetic aid.

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

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 rocks
Hoarse-murmuring fell, and plaintive breeze that play'd
Among the bending willows, falsely he ⁠
Of 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 stole
In side-long glances from her downcast eye,⁠
Or 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! ⁠
A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate
Of mighty monarchs, then decided thine.
For lo! conducted by the laughing Loves
This cool retreat his Musidora sought:
Warm in her cheek the sultry season glow'd ⁠
And, rob'd in loose array, she came to bathe
Her 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,⁠
A 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 ⁠
Arcadian stream, with timid eye around
The banks surveying, strip'd her beauteous limbs,
To taste the lucid coolness of the flood.
Ah then! not Paris on the piny top
Of Ida panted stronger, when aside ⁠

The rival-goddesses the veil divine
Cast 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;⁠
And, thro' the parting robe, th' alternate breast,
With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze
In full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth,
How durst thou risque the soul-distracting view;
As from her naked limbs, of glowing white,⁠
Harmonious 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 breeze
Alarm'd, and starting like the fearful fawn?⁠
Then to the flood she rush'd; the parted flood
Its lovely guest with closing waves receiv'd;
And every beauty softening, every grace
Flushing anew, a mellow luster shed;
As shines the lily thro' the crystal mild;⁠
Or as the rose, amid the morning-dew
Fresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows.
While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the wave
But ill-conceal'd; and now with streaming locks,
That half-embrac'd her in a humid veil,⁠
Rising again, the latent Damon drew
Such madning draughts of beauty to the soul,
As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thought
With luxury too-daring. Check'd, at last,
By love's respectful modesty, he deem'd⁠
The theft profane, if aught profane to love
Can 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 bank
With trembling hand he threw. "Bathe on, my fair,⁠

Yet unbeheld save by the sacred eye
Of 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, ⁠
A 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 robes⁠
Which blissful Eden knew not; and, array'd
In careless haste, th' alarming paper snatch'd.
But, when her Damon's well-known hand she saw,
Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer train
Of mixt emotions, hard to be describ'd,⁠
Her sudden bosom seiz'd: shame void of guilt,
The charming blush of innocence, esteem
And admiration of her lover's flame,
By modesty exalted: even a sense
Of self-approving beauty stole across⁠
Her busy thought. At length, a tender calm
Hush'd by degrees the tumult of her soul;
And on the spreading beech, that o'er the stream
Incumbent hung, she with the silvan pen
Of rural lovers this confession carv'd,⁠
Which 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 now
Discreet: the time may come you need not fly."⁠

⁠The sun has lost his rage: his downward orb
Shoots 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,⁠
The dream of waking fancy! Broad below,
Cover'd with ripening fruits, and swelling fast
Into the perfect year, the pregnant earth
And all her tribes rejoice. Now the soft hour
Of walking comes: for him who lonely loves⁠
To seek the distant hills, and there converse
With Nature; there to harmonize his heart,
And in pathetic song to breathe around
The harmony to others. Social friends,
Attun'd to happy unison of soul;⁠
To whose exalting eye a fairer world,
Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse,
Displays its charms; whose minds are richly fraught
With philosophic stores, superior light;
And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns⁠
Virtue, 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,⁠
The full free converse of the friendly heart,
Improving and improv'd. Now from the world,
Sacred to sw

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