The poetical works of James Thomson

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POETICAL

WORKS

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JAMES THOMSON

NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY

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CONTENTS.

Greece... 170 Rome... 184 Britain... ... ...,... 201 The Prospect... 235 Castle of Indolence. .. ... ... 254 Miscellaneous— A Poetical Epistle to Sir William Bennet, Bart., of Grubbat... 802

Lisy’s parting with her Cat... ... 802

Psalm CIV. paraphrased... 304

On a Country Life... 307

On Happiness... 310

Verses on receiving a Flower from his Mistress...314

An Elegy on Parting... 315

To Seraphina... 316

On the Hoop... 316

On May... 317

The Morning in the Country... 317

Lines on Marl efield... 318

On Beeuty.»... 319

An Elegy upon James Therburn... 322

CONTENTS.

To the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton...325

A Paraphrase on the latter part of the Sixth Chapter of St. Matthew... 331

The Happy Man... 332

The Incomparable Soporific Doctor... 333

Hymn on Solitude... 333

Britannia... 335

On the Death of Mr. Aikman... 343

On Mrs. Mendez’ Birthday... 345

On the Report that a Wooden Bridge was to be built at Westminster... 345

To his Royal Highness the Priuce of Wales... 346

To the Memory of the Right Hon. Lord Talbot... 347

On JEolus's Harp...356

Hymn to God’s Power... 357

A Complaint on the Miseries of Life... 358

To the Rev. Patrick Murdoch... 359

Epitaph on Miss Stanley... 360

Stanzas... 361

Pastorals— . A Pastoral betwixt David, Thirsis, and the Angel Ga­ briel, upon the Birth of our Savior... 362

A Pastoral between Thirsis and Corydon, upon the Death of Damon, by whom is meant Mr. W. Riddell... ... 364

A Pastoral Entertainment... 366

Songs— A Nuptial Song... 367

To Her I Love... 368

To the God of Fond Desire... 369

The Lover’s Fate... 369

To the Nightingale... 370 To Myra... 370 Song... 371 Amanda—• To Love... 372 To Amanda... 372

CONTENTS.

ro the Same... ... 374

To Fortune... ... 374

Come, Gentle God... 375

Songs in the MasqueofAlfred— To Peace... 375

To Alfred...376

Sweet Valley, Say...376

From those Eternal Regions...377

Contentment... 377

Rule, Britannia... 378

Prologues andEpilogues— Epilogue to “Agamemnon ”... 379

Prologue to Mallet’s “ Mustapha”... 379

Prologue to “ Tancred and Sigismunda”...380

THOMSON’

S

POETICAL WORKS.

THE SEASONS.

SPRING.

DEDICATION.*

* The prose dedications were afterward suppressed, and poetical addresses substituted, as in the next.

TO THE BIGHT HONORABLE THE COUNTESS OF HERTFORD. MADAM,—I have always observed that, in addresses of this nature, the general taste of the world demands ingenious turns of wit, and disguised artful periods, instead of an open sincerity of sentiment flowing in a plain expression. From what secret impatience of the justest praise, when bestowed on others, this often proceeds, rather than a pretended delicacy, is beyond my purpose here to inquire. But as nothing is more for­ eign to the disposition of a soul sincerely pleased with the con­ templation of what is beautiful, and excellent, than wit and turn ; I have too much respect for your ladyship’s character, either to touch it in that gay, trifling manner, or venture on a particular de­ tail of those truly amiable qualities of whicliit is composed. A mind exalted, pure, and elegant, a heart overflowing with humanity, and the whole train of virtues thence derived, that give a pleasing spirit to conversation, an engaging simplicity to the manners, and form the life to harmony, are rather to be felt, and silently admired, than expressed. I have attempted, in the following poem, to paint some of the most tender beau­ ties and delicate appearances of Nature ; how much in vain, your ladyship’s taste will, I am afraid, but too soon discover : yet would it still be a much easier task to find expression for all that variety of color, form, and fragrance, which enrich the Season I describe, than to speak the many nameless graces and

8 SPRING.

native riches of mind capable so much at once to relish solitude, and adorn society. To whom then could tiiese sheets be more properly inscribed than to you, madam, whose influence in the world can give them the protection they want, while your fine imagination, and intimate acquaintance with rural nature, will recommend them with the greatest advantage to your far orable notice ? Happy ! if I can hit any of those images, ami correspondent sentiments, your calm evening W’alks, in the most delightful retirement, have oft inspired. 1 could add. too, that as this poem grew up under your encouragement, it has there! ore a natural claim to your patronage. Should you read it with approbation, its music shall not droop ; and shoulu it have the good fortune to deserve your smiles, its roses shall not wither. But where the subject is so tempting, lest I begin my poem before the Dedication is ended, I here break short, and beg leave to subscribe myself, with the highest respect, madam, your most obedient, humble servant.

James Thomson. Argument.—The subject proposed—Inscribed to the Countess

of Hertford—The Season is described as it affects the various parts of Nature, ascending from the lower to the higher ; and mixed with digressions arising from the subject—Its in­ fluence on inanimate matter, on vegetables, on brute animals, and last on man ; concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular passion of love opposed to that of a pure and happy kind.

Come,gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come ;

And from the bosom of your dropping cloud,

While music wakes around, veiled in a shower

Of shadowing roses, on ourplainsdescend.

OHertford,* fitted or to shine in courts

With unaffected grace, or walkthe plain

Withinnocence and meditation joined Insoft assemblage, listen to my song,

Which thy own Seasonpaints; when Nature all Is bloomingand benevolent, like thee.

* Afterwards Duchess of Somerset. She died in 1754. And see where surly Winter passes off,

Fartothe north, and calls his ruffian blasts:

Hisblasts obey, and quitthehowlinghill, The shattered forest, and the ravished vaie ; While softer gales succeed, atwhose kindtouch,

SPRING. 9

Dissolving snows in livid torrentslost,

The mountains lift their green heads tothe sky.

Asyetthe trembling year is unconfirmed, And Winter oftateve resumes the breeze,

Chillsthe pale morn, and bids his driving sleets Deform theday delightless ; so that scarce The bittern knows his time with bill ingulfed To shakethesounding marsh ; or from the shore Theplovers whento scatter o’erthe heath, And sing their wild notes to the listening waste.

Atlast fromAriesrolls the bounteous sun,

Andthe bright Bullreceives him. Then no more

The expansiveatmosphere iscrampedwith cold ;

But, full of life and vivifying soul,

Lifts the light clouds sublime,and spreads them thin,

Fleecy, andwhite, o’erallsurroundingheaven.

Forth fly thetepid airs ; andunconfined, Unbindingearth, the moving softnessstrays.

Joyous, the impatienthusbandmanperceives RelentingNature, and his lusty steers

Drives from their stalls to where the well-used plow Lies in the furrow, loosened from the frost.

There, unrefusing,to the harnessed yoke They lend their shoulder, andbegin their toil,

Cheered by the simple song andsoaringlark. Meanwhile, incumbent o’er theshining share

Themasterleans, removesthe obstructing clay, Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays theglebe.

White, through the neighboring fields the sower

stalks,

With measured step; and, liberal,throws the grain Into the faithful bosom of the ground:

Theharrowfollows harsh, and shuts the scene.

Be gracious, Heaven ! for now laborious man liasdone his part. Ye fosteringbreezes, blow !

Ye softening dews, ye tendershowers,descend ! And tempe'r all, thou world-revivingsun,

Into the perfect year ! Noryewho live In luxury and ease, in pomp andpride,

16 SP/l/NG.

Suchthemesasthese the rural Marosung To wide-imperial Rome, inthefull height Ofeleganceand taste,by Greece refined. In ancient times, the sacred plow employed

The kings and awful fathers ofmankind :

And some, withwhom compared your insecttribes Are but the beings of a summer’s day,

Have held the scaleof empire,ruled the storm

Of mighty war, then with victorioushand, Disdaininglittle delicacies, seized

The plow, andgreatly independentscorned

All the vile storescorruptioncanbestow.

Ye generous Britons, venerate the plow ! And o’er your hills and long withdrawing vales

LetAutumn spread his treasures to thesun,

Luxuriant and unbounded! As the sea,

Far through hisazure turbulent domain, Your empire owns, and from athousand shores Waftsallthe pomp of life intoyour ports,

So withsuperior boon mayyour rich soil,

Exuberant, Nature’s better blessings pour

O’er everyland, the naked nations clothe,

Andbe the exhaustlessgranaryof aworld!

Nor onlythrough the lenientairthis change,

Delicious, breathes : thepenetrative sun,

His forcedeep-dartingto the dark retreat

Of vegetation, sets thesteaming power

Atlarge, to wander o’er the verdant earth, In varioushues ; but chiefly thee, gaygreen !

Thou smiling Nature’s universal robe !

United lightand shade ! wherethesightdwells

Withgrowingstrength, and ever newdelight. From the moist meadow tothe withered hill, Ledby the breeze, the vivid verdure runs ;

And swells, and deepens, tothe cherished eye. The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees,

Tillthewhole leafy foreststands displayed, In fullluxuriance, to the sighing gales ;

S/’JilNG. 11 Andthe birds singconcealed. At once, arrayed In all the colors of theflushing year

ByNature’sswift and secret-working hand, The garden glows,and fillsthe liberal air

With lavished fragrance; while thepromised fruit

Lies yetalittle embryo, unperceived,

Within its crimson folds. Now from thetown, Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps,

Oft letmewander o’er the dewy fields,

Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops

From the bentbush, asthrough the verdant maze

Of sweet-brier hedges,I pursue my walk ;

Or taste the smell of dairy; or ascend

Someeminence, Augusta,* in thy plains, A.nd seethe country, far diffused around,

One boundlessblush, one white-empurpledshower

Ofmingled blossoms : where the rapturedeye

Hurriesfromjoy tojoy; and, hidbeneath

Thefair profusion, yellow Autumn spies. If,brushedfrom Russian wilds, a cutting gale Risenot, andscatterfrom his humid wings

The clammy mildew ; or, dry-blowing, breathe

Untimely frost—beforewhose balefulblast

The full-blown Springthroughall her foliage shrinks,

Joyless and dead, a wide-dejectedwaste. Foroft, engenderedby the hazy north,

Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp

Keen in the poisoned breeze ; and wastefuleat,

Throughbuds and bark, into the blackened core

Their eager way. A feeble race ! yetoft

The sacred sons of vengeance! on whose course

Corrosive famine waits, and kills theyear. 'Tocheck this plague, the skillful farmerchaff

And blazingstraw before hisorchard burns—

'Till, all involved in smoke, the latent foe From every cranny suffocated falls: Or scattero’er the bloomsthe pungent dust

♦London-12 SPSTNG.

Ofpepper, fatal tothefrosty tribe ;

Or, whenthe envenomedleaf begins to curl, With sprinkledwater drowns them intheir nest■

Nor, while theypick them upwith busy bill,

Thelittle trooping birdsunwisely scares.

Be patient, swains; these cruel-seeming winds

Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep,repressed,

Those deepening clouds on clouds, surchargedwith

rain,

Thato’er the vast Atlantic hither borne,

In endlesstrain, would quench the summer blaze,

And, cheerless, drown the crude unripenedyear. The north-east spends his rage,he now shut up

Within his ironcave—-the effusive south Warmsthe wide air,and o’erthe void of heaven Breathesthe big clouds with vernalshowersdistent

Atfirst a dusky wreath they seem to rise,

Scarcestaining ether ; but byfastdegrees, In heapson heaps, thedoublingvapor sails Along theloaded sky, and mingling deep, Sits on thehorizonround a settledgloom:

Not suchas wintry storms on mortals shed, Oppressinglife ; butlovely,gentle, kind, And full of every hope and every joy,

The wish of Nature. Gradual sinksthebreeze

Into a perfect calm ; that nota breath

Is heard toquiver through theclosing woods,

Or rustlingturn the many twinkling leaves

Of aspen tall. The uncurling floods, diffused

In glassy breadth, seem through delusivelapse

Forgetful of their course. ’Tis silenceall, And pleasingexpectation. Herds andflocks

Drop the dry sprig, and, mute-imploring, eye

The fallen verdure. Hushed in short suspense,

Theplumy people streak their wings with oil,

To throw the lucid moisture tricklingoff ; Andwait the approachingsignto strike, at once,

Intothe general choir. Evenmountains, vales,

Andforests seem, impatient,to demand

SPPING. 13

Amidtheglad creation, musing praise,

Andlookinglively gratitude. At last,

The clouds consign their treasures to thefields ;

And, softlyshaking onthe dimpled pool

Prelusive drops,letalltheirmoisture flow,

In large effusion, o’er the freshenedworld.

Thestealing shower isscarce to patterheard,

Bysuch as wander through theforest walks, Beneath the umbrageous multitude of leaves.

Butwho can holdthe shade, while heavendescends

In universal bounty, shedding herbs,

Andfruits, and flowers, on Nature’s ample lap ' Swiftfancyfired anticipatestheir growth ;

And,while the milky nutriment distills,

Beholds the kindling country colorround.

Thus all daylongthe full-distended clouds

Indulge their genial stores, and well-showered earth Is deep enriched withvegetablelife ;

Till, in the western sky, the downward sun

Looksout, effulgent,from amidtheflush Of broken clouds, gayshifting to his beam. Therapid radiance instantaneous strikes

The illumined mountain ; through the foreststreams ;

Shakes onthe floods ; andin a yellow mist,

Farsmoking o’er the interminable plain,

In twinkling myriads lightsthe dewy gems,

Moist,bright, andgreen, thelandscape laughs around.

Full swells thewoods ; theirevery music wakes, Mixed in wild concert, with the warbling brooks Increased, the distantbleatings ofthe hills, Andhollow lows responsive from the vales,

Whence blendingall the sweetened zephyrsprings. Meantime, refractedfromyon eastern cloud,

Bestriding earth, the grand ethereal bow

Shoots upimmense ; and every hue unfolds, In fair proportion running from the red

To wherethe violet fades into the sky. Here, awfulNewton, the dissolving clouds Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery prism;

14 SPJiTNG.

The varioustwine of light, by thee disclosed From thewhite mingling maze. Notsotheswain.

He wondering viewsthe bright enchantment bend, Delightful, o’er theradiant fields, and runs

To catch thefallingglory ; butamazed Beholds theamusive arch before him fly,

Thenvanishquite away. Still night succeeds, Asoftenedshade; andsaturated earth Awaits themorning-beam, togive to light,

Raised through tenthousand differentplastic tubes, The balmytreasures oftheformerday.

Then spring the living herbsprofusely wild,

O’er all the deep-green earth,beyond the power

Of botanist tonumber uptheir tribes : Whetherhe steals along the lonely dale, In silentsearch ; or through theforest, rank

With what the dull incurious weeds account, Burstshis blind way; orclimbsthemountain-rock, Fired by the nodding verdureof its brow.

With such a liberal hand has Natureflung Their seeds abroad, blownthem aboutin winds, Innumerous mixed them with the nursing mold,

The moistening current, and prolificrain.

Butwhotheir virtues can declare? who pierce, With vision pure,into these secret stores

Ofhealth, and life, andjoy ? thefood of man,

While yet he lived in innocence, and told A length of golden years, unfleshed in blood ; Astranger tothe savage arts of life,

Death, rapine, carnage, surfeit,and disease—

The lord, andnot the tyrant, of theworld.

Thefirst fresh dawn thenwaked thegladdened race Of uncorrupted man, norblushed tosee

The sluggardsleep beneath its sacred beam ; For their light slumbers gentlefumed away, And upthey rose as vigorous as the sun, Ortothe culture of the willing glebe,

Orto the cheerfultendance of the flock.

Meantime the song went round ; and dance and sport,

SPRING. ia

Their hoursaway : while in therosy vale

Lovebreathed hisinfantsighs, from anguish free,

And full replete with bliss; save the sweetpain,

That, inlythrilling,but exalts it more.

Nor yetinjurious act, norsurly deed,

Wasknown amongthose happysons ofheaven;

Forreason and benevolence were law. Harmonious Naturetoo looked smiling on. Clear shonetheskies, cooled with eternal gales,

Andbalmy spirit all. The youthful sun Shot his bestrays, and still thegraciousclouds Droppedfatness down; as o’erthe swelling mead, Theherds and flocks, commixing,played secure.

Thiswhen, emergentfromthe gloomy wood,

Theglaring lionsaw, his horrid heart Was meekened, and hejoined his sullen joy;

Formusicheld the wholein perfectpeace : Softsighed the flute; the tender voicewasheard, Warbling thevaried heart; thewoodlands round

Appliedtheir quire ; andwinds and waters flowed

In consonance. Such were thoseprime ofdays.

But nowthose white unblemishedminutes, whence The fabling poets took their golden age,

Are foundnomore amid these irontimes, These dregsoflife ! Now the distempered mind

Haslost thatconcord ofharmoniouspowers, Whichforms the soulofhappiness ; and all

Is off thepoise within : the passions all

Have burst their bounds ; and reason half extinct,

Or impotent,or else approving, sees The foul disorder. Senseless and deformed,

Conclusiveanger stormsatlarge ; or, pale

And silent, settles into fell revenge.

Baseenvy withers atanother’s joy,

And hates that excellence it cannot reach.

Desponding fear, of feeblefancies full,

Weakand unmanly, loosens every power.

Evenloveitself isbitterness of soul, A pensive anguish pining atthe heart;

16 SPRING.

That noble wish, that never cloyeddesire, Which, selfishjoydisdaining, seeks alone Tobless the dearer objectof itsflame. Hopesickenswithextravagance; and grief,

Of life impatient,into madness swells,

Or indead silence wastes the weeping hours.

These,and a thousand mixedemotions more, From ever-changingviews of good and ill, Formed infinitely various, vex the mind

With endlessstorm ; whence, deeply rankling, grows

The partialthought, listless unconcern,

Cold, andaverting fromourneighbor’sgood ; Then dark disgust, and hatred, windingwiles,

Cowarddeceit, andruffian violence.

Atlast, extinct each social feeling, fell

Andjoyless inhumanity pervades

And petrifies theheart. Naturedisturbed

Isdeemed, vindictive, to havechanged her course,

Hence,in old dusky time, adeluge came :

When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arched

Thecentralwatersround, impetuous rushed,

Withuniversal burst, into the gulf,

And o’er the high-piledhills of fractured earth Wide-dashed thewaves, in undulation vast; Till, fromthe center to thestreaming clouds,

A shoreless ocean tumbledround the globe. TheSeasons sincehave,with severer sway,

Oppresseda brokenworld : the Winter keen

Shook forth his waste of snows ; and Summershot

His pestilentialheats. Great Spring, before,

Greened all the year; and the fruits and blossoms blushed,

Insocial sweetness, on the self-same bough.

Pure was the temperateair; an even calm

Perpetual reigned,save what the zephyrs bland

Breathed o’ertheblue expanse: for then nor storms Were taughttoblow, nor hurricanes torage;

Sound slept thewaters ; no sulphurousglooms

Swelled in the sky, andsent the lightning forth:

SPRGVG. 17

Hungnot, relaxing, on the springs of life. But now, of turbid elements thesport,

From clear tocloudy tossed, from hot to cold, And dry to moist,with inward-eating change,

Ourdrooping days are dwindled down to naught Theirperiod finished ere ’tis well begun.

Andyet the wholesome herb neglected dies;

Though withthe pure exhilarating soul

Of nutriment, and health, and vitalpowers,

Beyond thesearch ofart, ’tis copiousblest. For, with hot ravin fired, ensanguined man

Isnow become thelion of the plain,

And worse. The wolf, who from the nightly fold

Fierce drags thebleating prey, ne’erdrunk her milk

Nor wore her warming fleece ; nor has the steer, At whose strong chest the deadly tigerhangs, E’erplowed for him. They tooare temperedhigh,

With hunger stung and wild necessity ; Norlodges pity in their shaggy breast. But man, whom Nature formed ofmilder clay, With everykind emotionin his heart,

And taught alone to weep—while from her lap She poursten thousand delicacies, herbs,

Andfruits, as numerous asthe drops of rain

Orbeams that gave them birth—shall he, fair form !

Who wears sweet smiles, andlooks erecton heaven, E’er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, And dip his tongue in gore? The beast of prey,

Blood-stained, deserves to bleed ; but you, ye flocks.

What have ye done? yepeaceful people, what,

To merit death ? you, who have given us milk In luscious streams,and lent us your own coat Against theWiuter’s cold ? And the plain ox, Thatharmless, honest,guileless animal,

In whathashe offended? he, whosetoil, Patient andever-ready,clothesthe land

With all the pomp of harvest—shall he bleed,

And struggling groan beneaththe cruel hand

Even of the clown he feeds ? and that, perhaps.

18 SPRING.

Won by his labor ? Thus the feelingheart

Would tenderly suggest; but’tis enough, In this late age, adventurous, to have touched

Lighton the numbers of theSamian sage.*

High Heaven forbids the bold presumptuous strain, Whosewisest will has fixedus in a state

That must notyettopure perfection rise :

Besides, who knows, how raised tohigherlife,

From stage to stage, thevitalscale ascends ?

*Pytliagoras.

Now, whenthe first foul torrent ofthe brooks,

Swelled with the vernal rains, is ebbed away — And,whitening, downtheir mossy-tinctured stream Descends thebillowy foam —now is the time, While yet thedark-brown water aidstheguile, To tempt thetrout. The well-dissembled fly,

The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring,

Snatchedfrom the hoary steed the floating line,

Andall thy slender watery stores, prepare.

But let not onthy hook thetortured worm, Convulsive,twist inagonizing folds ;

Which, by rapacious hunger swalloweddeep,

Gives, as you tear itfrom the bleeding breast Ofthe weak, helpless, uncomplaining wretch,

Harsh pain and horror tothe tenderhand. When, with his lively ray, the potent sun

Has pierced the streams, and roused the finny race,

Then, issuing cheerful, to thysport repair ;

Chiefshould the western breezes curling play, And light o’er ether bear the shadowy clouds.

High to their fount, this day, amid the hills,

And woodlandswarblinground,trace upthe brooks; The next, pursue theirrocky-clianneled maze.

Downto the river,in whose ample wave Theirlittle naiads love to sport at large.

Just in the dubious point,where withthepool Ismixed the trembling stream, or whereit boils Around thestone, orfromthe hollowed bank Revertedplaysin undulating flow,

SPRING IS There throw, nice-judging, thedelusive fly;

And, asyou leadit roundin artful curve, Witheyeattentivemark thespringing game.

Straightasabove the surfaceof the flood

They wantonrise, orurgedby hunger leap,

Thenfix, with gentle twitch, barbed hook ;

Somelightly tossing to the grassybank,

And to the shelvingshore slow-dragging some, With various hand proportionedto theirforce.

Ifyet too young, andeasily deceived,

A worthless prey scarcebends yourpliant rod,

Him, piteous of his youth, andtheshort space

Hehas enjoyed thevitallight of heaven, Softdisengage, and backintothestream The speckled infantthrow. But shouldyou lure

Fromhis dark haunts, beneath the tangledroots

Ofpendant trees, themonarch of thebrook, Behoovesyou thento ply your finest art.

Longtime he,followingcautious, scansthe fly ; And oft attempts toseize it,butas oft

The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear.

Atlast,while o’er theshaded sun

Passes a cloud, bedesperate takes thedeath, Withsullen plunge. At once he darts along,

Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthenedline ;

Thenseeksthefurthest ooze, the sheltering weed.

The caverned bank, hisold secure abode ;

And flies aloft, and flounces round thepool,

Indignant oftheguile. With yielding hand,

Thatfeelshimstill, yet to his furious course

Gives way, you, now retiring, following now Acrossthe stream, exhaust his idle rage ; Till, floating broad upon his breathless side, Andto hisfate abandoned, to the shore

You gayly drag yourunresistingprize.

Thuspassthe temperate hours : but when thesun Shakes from his noon-day throne the scatteringclouds. Even shooting listless languorthroughthe deeps,

Then seek the bank whereflowering elderscrowd,

20 SPRING.

Its balmy essence breathes, wherecowslips hang

The dewy head, where purple violels lurk, Withallthe lowly childrenof the shade; Or lie reclined beneath yon spreading ash

Hung o’erthe steep, whenceborne onliquid wing The sounding culver*shoots; or where the hawk

High in the beetling cliff his eyrie builds.

* The old name of the pigeon, still applied to the house dove in

Devvn-Thereletthe classicpagethy fancy lead

Through ruralscenes, such astheMantuanswain

Paintsinthematchlessharmony of song ;

Or catch thyself thelandscape, gliding swift

Athwartimagination’svivid eye;

Or, by the vocal woods and waters lulled,

Andlostin lonelymusing,in a dream,

Confused, of careless solitude, where mix Ten thousand wandering images of things, Soothe every gust of passion intopeace— All butthe swellings of the softened heart,

Thatwaken, notdisturb, the tranquilmind. Behold,yonbreathingprospect bidsthemuse

Throw all her beautyforth. But who can paint

LikeNature ? Can imaginationboast, Amid its gaycreation, hues iike hers?

Orcan itmix them with thatmatchless skill,

Andlose them in each other,as appears

In every bud that blows? Iffancy,then,

Unequalfails beneath the pleasing task.

Ah, what shall language do ? ah, where findwords

Tingedwith somany colors ; and whosepower, Tolife approaching, may perfumemy lays

With thatfine oil, those aromatic gales, That inexhaustive flow continualround?

Yet, thoughsuccessless, will the toil delight.

Comethen, ye virgins and ye youths whose hearts

Have felt the raptures of refining love; Andthou, Amanda, come, pride ofmy song!

SPAING. 21

Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, Those looks demure, that deeply piercethe soul — Where,with the lightofthoughtful reason mixed,

Shines lively fancy,and thefeelingheart:

O come ! and whilethe rosy-footed May Steals blushing on, together let us tread The morningdews, and gatherintheir prime

Fresh-blooming flowers, tograce thybraidedhair,

Andthy loved bosomthat improves theirsweets. See, where thewindingvale its lavishstores, lrriguous,spreads. See, howthelilydrinks The latentrill, scarceoozing through the grass. Of growth luxuriant ; or thehumid bank,

In fair profusion, decks. Longlet us walk,

Wherethebreeze blowsfrom yon extended field

Of blossomed beans. Arabiacannotboast Afuller gale of joythan, liberal, thence

Breathes through the sense, and takes the ravished soul.

Nor isthe mead unworthyofthy foot,

Full of fresh verdure, and unnumberedflowers, Thenegligence of Nature, wideand wild ;

Where, undisguised bymimicArt,she spreads

Unbounded beautyto the rovingeye. Heretheir delicious task thefervent bees,

In swarmingmillions, tend : around, athwart,

Through thesoft air the busy nations fly,

Cling to the bud, and with inserted tube

Suck its pureessence, its ethereal soul;

And oft, with bolder wing, they soaringdare Thepurpleheath, or where the wild-thyme grows, And yellow loadthemwith the luscious spoil.

Atlengththe finished garden to the view

Its vistas opens, and itsalleys green.

Snatchedthrough theverdant maze, thehurriedeye Distracted wanders : now the bowerywalk

Of covertclose, wherescarce a speck of day

Falls on the lengthened gloom, protracted sweeps;

Now meets the bending sky; the river now

92 SPRING.

The forest darkening round, theglitteringspire,

The etherealmountain,and the distant main. But why so far excursive? when athand,

Along theseblushing borders, bright with dew,

Andin yon mingledwilderness of flowers,

Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace :

Throwsout the snowdrop and thecrocus first; The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue,

Andpolyanthus of unnumbereddyes ;

Theyellow wallflower, stained with ironbrown ; Andlavish stockthat scents thegarden round ;

Fromthe softwing of vernal breezesshed,

Anemones ; auriculas,enriched

Withshining meal o’eralltheirvelvet leaves ; Andfull ranunculas,of glowing red,

Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays

Heridlefreaks : fromfamily diffused

Tofamily, as flies thefather-dust,

The varied colors run ; and, while they break

Onthe charmed eye, the exultingflorist marks, Withsecret pride, thewonders of his hand.

No gradual bloom is wanting ; fromthe bud,

First-born of Spring, to Summer’s musky tribes ;

Norhyacinths, ofpurest virgin white,

Lowbent,and blushing inward ; nor jonquils,

Of potent fragrance ; nor narcissus fair,

As o’er the fabled fountain hanging still;

Norbroadcarnations ; nor gay-spotted pinks ;

Nor, showered from every bush, the damask-rose.

Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells,

With hueson huesexpression cannot paint, The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom.

Hail! Source of Being ! Universal Soul Ofheaven and earth ! Essential Presence,hail ! To Thee1 bend theknee; toThee my thoughts,

Continual,climb ; who, with amaster-hand, Hastthe great whole intoperfection touched. By Thee the variousvegetative tribes, Wraptin a filmy net, andclad withleaves,

SPXÍNG. 23

By Thee disposed into congenialsoils,

Stands eachattractive plant, and sucks, and swells

The juicy tide ; a twining mass oftubes.

At Thy commandthe vernal sun awakes

Thetorpidsap, detruded to theroot

By wintrywinds, that nowin fluentdance

And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads

All this innumerous-colored sceneof things. As rising from the vegetableworld

Mythemeascends, with equal wing ascend,

My panting muse ; and hark,howloudthe woods

Inviteyou forth in all your gayest trim.

Lend meyour song,ye nightingales! ohpour

Themazy-running soul of melody Into myvaried verse! while I deduce

From the first notethehollow cuckoo sings,

The symphony of Spring, and touch atheme Unknown to fame — thepassion of the groves.

When first the soul of loveissentabroad,

Warmthrough thevital air, and on the heart Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin,

Ingallantthought, to plumethe paintedwing;

And try again the long-forgotten strain, At firstfaint warbled. But no sooner grows Thesoftinfusion prevalent, and wide, Than, all alive, at oncetheir joy o’erflows

In musicunconfined. Up springs thelark, Shrill-voiced and loud, the messenger of morn;

Ere yetthe shadowsfly, he mounted sings

Amid thedawning clouds,and fromtheir haunts

Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse

Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush

Bending withdewy moisture, o’er theheads

Of the coy choristers thatlodge within, Areprodigal of harmony. The thrush

Andwoodlark, o’er the kind-contending throng Superior heard, run through thesweetest length

Of notes ; when listening Philomela deigns To letthem joy, and purposes,in thought

84 SPJilNG.

Theblackbird whistles from the thornybrake ,

The mellowbullfinch answers from the grove j Nor arethe linnets, o’er theflowering furze

Pouredout profusely, silent: joinedtothese

Innumeroussongsters, in the freshening shade

Ofnew-sprungleaves, their modulations mix Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, thedaw,

Andeach harsh pipe, discordant heard alone,

Aid the full concert ; while the stockdovebreathes

Amelancholymurmur throughthe whole.

’Tislove createstheir melody, and all

This waste of music is the voice of love ;

Thateven to birds and beaststhetenderarts Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind

Try every winning way inventivelove Candictate, and incourtshipto theirmates

Pour forth theirlittlesouls. First, wide around, With distant awe, in airy rings they rove, Endeavoring byathousand tricks to catch

Thecunning, conscious, half-averted glance Oftheir regardless charmer. Should sheseem, Softening, theleastapprovance to bestow, Their colors burnish, and by hope inspired,

They brisk advance ; then, on a sudden struck,

Retiredisordered ; then againapproach;

In fond rotation spread the spotted wing,

And shiver every feather with desire.

Connubial leaguesagreed, to the deep woods

They hasteaway, all as theirfancy leads,

Pleasure, orfood, or secretsafety prompts ;

That Nature’s great command maybe obeyed,

Norallthe sweet sensationsthey perceive Indulged invain. Some to theholly-hedge

Nestling repair, and to thethicket some ; Someto the rude protection ofthe thorn Committheirfeeble offspring. The clefttree Offers its kind concealment to a few,

Their foodits insects, and its moss their nests. Others,apart, far inthe grassydale,

SPRING. ¿a

But most in woodland solitudes delight,

In unfrequentedglooms, or shaggy banks,

Steep, anddivided by a babblingbrook,

Whosemurmurs soothe them all the live-longday,

When by kind duty fixed. Amongthe roots

Of hazel, pendent o’er theplaintive stream,

Theyframe the first foundationoftheir domes;

Drysprigs oftrees, inartful fabric laid,

Andbound with claytogether. Now ’tisnaught

But restless hurry through the busy air,

Beat by unnumbered wings. The swallow sweeps

The slimypool, tobuild his hanginghouse Intent. And often,from the carelessback

Of herds and flocks, athousand tugging bills

Pluck hair and wool ; and oft, when unobserved,

Steal from thebarn a straw: till soft and warm,

Clean, and complete, their habitation grows.

Asthus the patient dam assiduoussits,

Not to be tempted from hertender task,

Orby sharp hunger, orbysmooth delight,

Though the wholeloosened Spring around herblows.

Hersympathizing lover takeshis stand

High onthe opponentbank, and ceaselesssings

The tedious timeaway ; or else supplies Her place a moment, while she suddenflits

To pickthe scanty meal. The appointed time With pioustoilfulfilled, the callow young,

Warmed and expanded intoperfect life,

Their brittle bondage break, and cometo light;

A helplessfamily, demanding food

With constant clamor. Oh, whatpassions then, What meltingsentiments ofkindlycare,

On thenewparentsseize ! Awaythey fly,

Affectionate, and undesiring bear

The most delicious morsel to theiryoung ; Which equally distributed, again

The searchbegins. Even so a gentlepair,

Byfortunesunk, but formed of generousmold,

Andcharmed withcares beyondthevulgar breast, In some lone cot, amid thedistant woods,

SP21TN6.

Sustained alone by providentialHeaven, Oft, as theyweeping eye their infant train, Check their own appetites and give themall. Nortoil alone they scorn : exalting love,

Bythe great Father of the Spring inspired,

Givesinstant courage tothefearfulrace, And to the simple art. Withstealthywing, Should some rudefoottheir woodyhaunts molest Amid a neighboring bush they silent drop,

And whirring thence, as ifalarmed, deceive

Theunfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head,

Ofwandering swain, the white-wingedplover wheels

Her soundingflight, and then directly on Inlong excursion skims thelevel lawn,

To tempthim from her nest. The wild duck, hence.

O’erthe rough moss, and o’er the trackless waste The heath-hen flutters,pious fraud 1 tolead The hot pursuing spaniel farastray.

Be not the museashamed, hereto bemoan

Herbrothersof thegrove, by tyrant man Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage

From liberty confined, andboundless air. Dull are theprettyslaves,theirplumagedull, Ragged, and all itsbrightening lusterlost;

Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes,

Which, clearand vigorous, warbles from the beech Oh then, ye friends of love and love-taught songr

Spare thesoft tribes, this barbarousartforbear !

If on your bosom innocence canwin, Music engage, orpiety pursuade.

But letnot chiefthe nightingale lament

Her ruinedcare,too delicatelyframed

To brookthe harsh confinementof the cage. Oft when, returning with her loadedbill,

The astonished mother finds a vacant nest,

By the hard hand ofunrelenting clowns

Robbed, to theground the vain provision fall* ,

Her pinions ruffle, and, low-drooping, scarce Can bearthe mourner to the poplarshade, Where all abandoned to despair shesings

SPRING. 27 Hersorrows through the night ; and, on the bough Sole-sitting, still atevery dying fall

Takes up again herlamentablestrain

Ofwinding woe, till widearoundthewoods

Sigh to her song, and with her wailresound.

Butnow thefeathered youth their formerbounds, Ardent, disdain ; and, weighing ofttheirwings, Demand the freepossessionof the sky :

Thisoneglad office more, and then dissolves

Parentalloveat once, nowneedless grown

Unlavish Wisdomnever works invain.

’Tison someevening, sunny,grateful,mild,

When naught but balm is breathing through the woods

Withyellowluster bright, that the newtribes

Visit thespacious heavens, andlook abroad

Onnature’s common, far as they can see

Or wing theirrange and pasture. O’er the boughs

Dancing about, still atthe giddyverge

Their resolutionfails — their pinions still, Tn loose libration stretched, to trust thevoid

Tremblingrefuse —tilldown before themfly The parent-guides, and chide, exhort,command,

Orpush them off. The surging airreceives

The plumy burden ; andtheir self-taught wings Winnow the waving element. Onground Alighted, bolderupagain theylead,

Furtherandfurther on, the lengthening flight ;

Till, vanished every fear,and every power Rousedinto life and action, lightin air Theacquitted parents seetheir soaring race, And, oncerejoicing, never knowthemmore.

High fromthe summit of a craggy cliff,

Hung o’er the deep, such asamazing frowns

On utmostHilda’sshore, whoselonely race Resignthe setting sun to Indian worlds, The royal eagle drawshis vigorous young ;

Strong-pounced,and ardent with paternal fire.

Nowfit to raise a kingdom of their own, He drives them from his fort, the towering seat,

28 SPXING.

For ages, of Ins empire ; which, inpeace, Unstained heholds, while many a league tosea

He wingshis course, and preysin distant isles.

Should Imysteps turn to tiierural seat, Whose lofty elms and venerable oaks Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs,

In early Spring,his airy city builds,

And ceaseless cawsamusive — there,well-pleased,

I might the various polity survey

Of themixed household kind. The carefulhen

Callsall her chirping family around, Fedand defended by the fearless cock ;

Whose breast with ardor flames, as on he walks

Graceful, and crows defiance. In thepond, The finely-checkeredduck, before her train

Rows garrulous. The stately-sailing swan Gives out her snowy plumage to the gale ; And, arching proud hisneck, with oary feet Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier-isle,

Protective of his young. Theturkey nigh,

Loud-threatening, reddens ; while the peacock

spreads

His every-coloredglory to the sun, And swimsin radiant majesty along.

O’er thewhole homelyscene, thecooingdove

Fliesthick in amorous chase, and wanton rolls The glancingeye, and turns the changeful neck.

While thus the gentle tenants of the shade

Indulge theirpurer loves, therougher world

Of brutes, below, rushfurious into flame And fierce desire. Through all his lusty veins

Thebull, deep-scorched, theraging passion feels Ofpasture sick, and negligent of food,

Scarce seen, he wad s among theyellow broom, Whileo’erhis ample sides the rambling sprays Luxuriant shoot ; or through the mazy wood

Dejected wander-, nortlm enticing bud

Crops, though itpresses on his careless sense.

And oft, in jealous maddening fancy wrapt, He seeks the fight ; and idly-butting, feigns

Hisrivalgored in every knottytrunk.

Himshould hemeet,thebellowing warbegins:

Their eyes flash fury ; to thehollowedearth, Whence the sand flies, they mutter bloody deeds,

And groaning deep the impetuous battle mix ; While thefair heifer, balmy-breathing, near,

Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed With thishot impulse seized ineverynerve,

Nor heeds the rein, norhearsthesounding thong ; Blowsare not felt ; but, tossing high his head, Andby the well-known joyto distantplains Attracted strong, all wildhe burstsaway ;

O’er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountainsflies ;

And, neighing,on the aerial summit takes Theexciting gale;then, deep-descending, cleaves

The headlong torrents foaming down thehills,

Even where the madness of the straightened stream Turns inblack eddiesround— such is the force With which hisfrantic heart and sinews swell.

Norundelighted by the boundless Spring

Arethe broad monsters of thefoaming deep : Fromthedeep oozeand gelid cavern roused,

Theyflounce and tumble inunwieldlyjoy. Direwere the strain,anddissonant,to sing

The cruel raptures of the savagekind ;

How, bythis flametheir native wrath sublimed,

They roam, amid the fury of their heart, The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands,

Andgrowltheirhorrid loves. But this, the theme I sing, enraptured, to the British fair,

Forbids ;and leads me to the mountain-brow,

Where sits theshepherd on thegrassy turf, Inhaling,healthful, the descending sun.

Around him feeds his many-bleatingflock,

Ofvarious cadence, andhis sportive lambs,

Thisway and that convolved, in friskfulglee, Theirfrolicsplay. And now thesprightly race Invites them forth ; when swift,the signal given.

Theystartaway, and sweep the massy mound Thatruns around the hill ; therampartonce.

30 SPRING.

Of ironwar,in ancientbarbarous times, When disunitedBritain everbled,

Lost in eternal broil: ereyet she grew To this deep-laidindissolublestate,

Where wealth and commerce lift theirgolden heads

And, o’er our labors, libertyand law

Impartial watch —thewonderof theworld! What is this mightybreath, ye curious,say,

That, ina powerfullanguage, feltnotheard,

Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through theii breast

Thesearts of lovediffuses? What,but God ?

Inspiring God ! who, boundlessspiritall, And unremittingenergy, pervades, Adjusts, sustains,andagitates the whole. He ceaselessworks alone, and yet alone

Seems not to work ; witb such perfection framed

Isthis complex stupendous scheme of things.

But, though concealed, to every purer eye

Theinforming Author in hisworks appears: Chief, lovely Spring, inthee, and thy softscenes, The smilingGodisseen ; while water, earth,

Andair attest his bounty —which exalts Thebrutecreation to this finerthought,

And annual melts theirundesigning hearts Profusely thus in tendernessand joy.

Still let mysonga nobler note assume, And singthe infusive force of Spring on man ;

Whenheaven andearth, asifcontending,vie

To raise his being, and serene his soul.

Can he forbear to join the general smile

Of Nature? Can fierce passionsvexhis breast, While every gale ispeace, andevery grove

Ismelody? Hence ! from the bounteouswalks Of flowing Spring, ye sordidsons of earth. Hard, and unfeeling of another’s woe,

Oronly lavish to yourselves ; away !

Bylrc^pTtsjegenerousminds,in whose wide thought, j&na.BrTiiftwisrks,Creative Bounty burns

/'A i^liwa^ine^i, beam ; andon your open front

SPK/NG.

And liberaleye sits, from his dark retreat

Inviting modest want. Nortill invoked Can restless goodness wait: youractive search Leavesno cold wintry corner unexplored ; Like silent-working heaven, surprising oft

The lonely heart with unexpectedgood. Foryou the roving spirit of thewind

Blows Spring abroad ; for you the teemingclouds

Descend in gladsome plenty o’er the world ; And the sun sheds his kindest rays foryou,

Ye flower of human race 1 In thesegreen days,

Reviving sicknesslifts herlanguid 1ead ; Life flows afresh ; and young-eyed health exalts

The whole creation round. Contentment walks The sunnyglade, and feels an inwardbliss

Spring o’erhis mind, beyond the power ofkings

Topurchase. Pureserenity apace

Inducesthought,and contemplation still.

By swiftdegreesthe love of natureworks, And warms the bosom ; till at last, sublimed

To rapture and enthusiasticheat, We feel the present Deity, and taste The joy of Godto see a happy world!

Theseare thesacred feelingsof thy heart, Thy heart informed by reason’spurer ray, OLyttleton, thefriend ! thy passions thus

And meditations vary,as at large,

Courtingthe muse, through Hagley Park you stray ;

Thy BritishTempb 1 There along the dale,

With woods o’er-hung, and shaggedwithmossy rockt

Whenceon each handthe gushing waters play, And down the rough cascade white-dashingfall, Or gleamin lengthened vista through the trees,

You silentsteal; orsit beneath the shade Of solemn oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts Thrown gracefulround by Nature’s careless hand, And pensive listen to the various voice

Of ruling peace : the herds, theflocks, the birds, The hollow-whisperingbreeze, the plaint ofrills,

SPRING.

Whichcreep around, their dewymurmursshake

On thesoothedear. From these abstracted oft,

You wander through thephilosophic world ;

Where in bright traincontinual wonders rise,

Or tothe curious or the pious eye.

And oft, conductedbyhistoric truth,

Youtread the long extent of backward time:

Planning, withwarm benevolence ofmind, And honest zeal unwarped by party-rage,

Britannia’s weal; how fromthe venal gulf

To raise hervirtue,and her artsrevive.

Or, turning thence thy view, thesegraverthoughts.

Themuses charm; while, with suretasterefined, You draw the inspiring breathof ancient song,

Tillnobly rises, emulous, thy own.

Perhapsthy lovedLucindasharesthywalk, With soul to thine attuned. Then Nature all Wears to the lover’seye a look oflove;

And all the tumult of aguilty world,

Tossed by ungenerouspassions, sinks away.

Thetender heart is animated peace;

Andas itpours its copious treasures forth, In varied converse, softening every theme,

You, frequent-pausing,turn, and from her eyes,

Where meekened sense, and amiablegrace,

And lively sweetness dwell, enraptured drink

That nameless spirit of ethereal joy, Inimitable happiness! which love Alone bestows, and on a favored few.

Meantimeyou gain the height, from whose fair brow

Theburstingprospect spreads immense around ;

And snatched o’er hill and dale, and wood and lawn. And verdant field, and darkeningheathbetween, And villages embosomed soft intrees,

And spiry towns bysurging columns marked

Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams ; Wide-stretching from the hall, in whose kind haunt Thehospitable genius lingers still,

To where the brokenlandscape,bydegrees

SPP7.VG. 88

O'er which the Cambrian mountains,like far clouds That skirt the bluehorizon, dusky rise.

Flushed bythespiritof the genial year,

Now fromthe virgin’scheekafresherbloom

Shoots, lessandless, thelive carnation round ; Her lips blush deepersweets; she breathesof youth : Theshining moistureswells into her eyes

In brighter flow ; her wishing bosom heaves

With palpitations wild ; kind tumults seize

Herveins, and all her yieldingsoul is love.

Fromthe keen gazeherlover turns away,

Full of the dearecstaticpower, andsick

With sighinglanguishment. Ah then, yefair ! Be greatly cautious of yoursliding hearts :

Da e not the infectious sigli; the pleading look,

Downcast and low, in meek submission dressed,

B itfull of guile. Let nottheferventtongue,

Prompt to deceive, with adulationsmooth,

Gain on your purposed will. Nor in the bower,

Where woodbines flaunt and rosesshed acouch,

While eveningdraws her crimson curtains round. Trust yoursoft minutes with betrayingman.

And let the aspiring youth bewareof love,

Of the smooth glance beware; for’tistoo late, When on his heart thetorrent softness pours.

Thenwisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame

Dissolves in air away ; while thefond soul,

Wrapt in gayvisions of unreal bliss,

Stikpaints theillusive form, the kindling grace,

The enticing smile, the modest-seemingeye,

Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying heaven.

Lurk searchless cunning, cruelty, and death :

And still, false-warbling in his cheatedear,

Hersiren voice, enchanting, draws him on To guileful shores, and meads offatal joy.

Evenpresent, in the very lap of love Inglorious laid —while music flows around,

Perfumes, and oils, andwine, and wanton hours

Amid theroses, fierce repentance rears Her snaky crest : a quick-returning pang

84 SPR/NG.

Shoots through the conscious heart; where honor

still

Andgreat design,against the oppressiveload Ofluxury, byfits,impatient heave.

Butabsent,what fantastic woes, aroused, Rage in eachthought,by restless musing fed, Chillthe warmcheek, and blastthebloom of life!

Neglected fortuneflies ; and, slidingswift, Prone into ruin fall his scorned affairs.

’Tis naught but gloom around. Thedarkenedsun Loseshis light. Therosy-bosomedSpring Toweeping fancy pines ; andyon bright arch,

Contracted, bends into a dusky vault. All nature fadesextinct; and she alone

Heard,felt, and seen, possesses every thought,

Fills everysense, and pants in everyvein.

Books are but formal dullness, tedious friends ; And sad amid the social band he sits,

Lonelyand unattentive. Fromthe tongue

Theunfinishedperiod falls: while,borne away

On swelling thought, his wafted spiritflies

To the vain bosom of his distant fair;

And leaves the semblance of a lover, fixed In melancholysite, with head declined, And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts,

Shook fromhis tender trance, and restless runs

Toglimmeringshades and sympathetic glooms, Wherethe dun umbrage o’er thefalling stream,

Romantic, hangs ; there through the pensivedusk

Strays, in heart-thrillingmeditation lost, Indulging all to love ; or on the bank

Thrown, amiddrooping lilies, swellsthe breeze With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day;

Norquits his deep retirement, tillthemoon

Peeps through the chambers of thefleecy east, Enlightened by degrees, and in her train

Leads on the gentlehours ; thenforthhe walks Beneaththe trembling languish of her beam,

SPRING. 36

Tomingle woes with his; or,whiletheworld

Andallthesons of care lie hushed in sleep, Associates with the midnight shadows drear ;

And, sighing to the lonely taper, pours

His idly-tortured heartintothe page

Meantforthe moving messenger of love — Where raptureburns on rapture, every line With rising frenzy fired. But if on bed

Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies.

All nighthe tosses, nor thebalmypower

Inany posture finds; till thegray morn

Lifts her pale luster onthepaler wretch,

Exanimate by love : and then perhaps

Exhausted nature sinks a while to rest,

Stillinterrupted by distracted dreams,

That o’er the sick imagination rise

And in black colorspaintthe mimic scene.

Oftwith the enchantress of his soul he talks :

Sometimesin crowds distressed ; or if retired

To secret-windingflower-inwoven bowers,

Far from the dull impertinence ofman,

Just as he, incredulous, his endless cares,

Begins to lose in blind oblivious love,

Snatched fromher yielded hand, he knowsnot how,

Throughforests huge, and longuntraveledheaths With desolation brown, hewanders waste, In night andtempest wrapt : orshrinks, aghast, Back from the bending precipice ; or wades The turbid stream below, and strives toreach

Thefurther shore, where succorlessand sad Shewith extended arms his aidimplores,

But strives in vain: borne by theoutrageous flood Todistance down, herides theridgywave, Orwhelmedbeneaththeboiling eddy sinks.

These arethe charming agonies of love, Whosemiserydelights. But through theheart Should jealousy its venom once diffuse,

’Tisthen delightfulmisery no more, But agonyunmixed, incessant gall, Corroding every thought, and blasting all

36 SPPING.

Love’s paradise. Ye fairy prospects,then, Yebeds ofroses, and ye bowers of joy, Farewell! Ye gleamingsofdeparted peace,

Shineout your last! theyellow-tinging plague

Internal visiontaints,and in a night Of livid gloom imagination wraps.

Ah ! then,instead of love-enlivenedcheeks

Ofsunny features, and of ardent eyes

With flowing rapture bright, darklookssucceed

Suffusedandglaring with untender fire ;

Acloudedaspect, and aburning cheek,

Where the wholepoisoned soulmalignantsits,

Andfrightens love away. Tenthousand fears

Invented wild, tenthousand frantic views

Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms Forwhich he meltsinfondness, eat him up

With fervent anguish, and consuming rage.

Invain reproaches lend their idle aid,

Deceitful pride, and resolution frail,

Givingfalse peace a moment. Fancypours, Afresh,her beautieson his busythought;

Her first endearments, twining round the soul,

Withall the witchcraft of insnaring love.

Straightthefiercestorm involves his mind anew,

Flames through thenerves, and boilsalongtheveins. While anxious doubtdistracts the tortured heart :

Foreven the sad assurance of his fears

Were peace towhathe feels. Thus the warm youth, Whomlove deludes into his thorny wilds,

Throughflowery-temptingpaths, or leads alife

Of fevered rapture, or of cruelcare ;

His brightest flames extinguishedall, and all His livelymoments running down to waste.

But happy they! the happiest oftheir kind ! Whomgentler stars unite,and in onefate

Their hearts,their fortunes, and their beingsblend. ’Tis notthe coarser tieof human laws,

Unnatural oft, and foreignto the mind, That bindstheirpeace, but harmony itself,

SPRING.

«1

Where friendship full-exerts her softest power Perfect esteem enlivenedby desire

Ineffable, andsympathy of soul;

Thoughtmeeting thought,and will preventing will,

With boundlessconfidence : fornaught but love

Can answer love, and render blisssecure. Le

*

' him,ungenerous, who, aloneintent

To bless himself, from sordid parents buys

The loathing virgin, in eternal care,

Well merited, consume his nights and days ; Let barbarous nations, whose inhumanlove

Is wild desire, fierceas the suns they feel; Leteastern tyrants from the lightof heaven

Seclude their bosomslaves, meanlypossessed Of amere lifeless, violated form:

Whilethosewhom love cementsin holy faith, And equal transport, free asNature live,

Disdainingfear. Whatisthe world tothem, Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all! Who in each otherclasp whateverfair

High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish ;

Somethingthan beauty dearer, should they look

Oron the mind, ormind-illumined face — Truth, goodness, honor, harmony, and love, Therichest bounty of indulgent Heaven.

Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, And mingles boththeirgraces. By degrees,

Thehuman blossom blows ; and everyday,

Softas it rolls along,shows some new charm,

Thefather’s luster and the mother’s bloom.

Then infant reason grows apace, and calls

Forthekind hand of an assiduouscare. Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,

To teach theyoungidea how to shoot,

Topour the fresh instructiono’erthe mind,

To breathe the enlivening spirit, and tofix Thegenerous purposein the glowing breast.

Ohspeak the joy 1 ye whom the suddentear Surprises often, while you look around,

№ SUMMER.

Allvarious Nature pressingon theheart; An elegantsufficiency, content,

Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books,

Ease and alternate labor, useful life,

Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven. These are thematchless joys of virtuous love; Andthustheir moments fly. TheSeasons thus,

Asceaselessround a jarring worldthey roll, Still find them happy; andconsenting Spring Sheds her ownrosy garland on their heads :

Tillevening comesat last, serene and mild;

Whenafter the long vernal day of life,

Enamored more,as more remembrance swells

With many a proof ofrecollectedlove,

Together down theysink insocial sleep ; Togetherfreed, their gentle spirits fly

To scenes where loveand bliss immortal reign.

(No more was written.)

SUMMER.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE ' MR. D0DINGT0N, ONE OF THE LORDS OF IIlS MAJESTY'S TREASURY, ETC.

Sir,— It is not my purpose, in this addspss, to run into the common tract of dedicators, and attempt a panegyric which would prove ungrateful to you, too arduous for me, and super­ fluous with regard to the world. To you it would prove un­ grateful, since there is a certain generous delicacy in men of the most distinguished merit, disposing them to avoid those praises they so powerfully attract. And when I consider that a character, in which the Virtues, the Graces, and the Muses join their influence, as much exceeds the expression of the most elegant and judicious pen, as the finished beauty does the representation of the pencil, I have the best reason for declin­ ing an arduous undertaking. As, indeed, it would be super­ fluous in itself ; for what reader need be told of those great abilities in the management of public affairs, and those amiable accomplishments iu private life, which you so eminently pos­ sess. The general voice is loud in the praise of so many

SUMMER. 39 virtues, though posterity alone will do them justice. But may you, sir, live long to illustrate your own fame by your own actions, and by them be transmitted to future times as the British Maecenas !

Your- example has recommended poetry, with the greatest grace, to the admiration of those who are engaged in the highest and most active scenes of life: and this, though con­ fessedly the least considerable of those exalted qualities that dignify your character, must be particularly pleasing to one, whose only hope of being introduced to your regard is through the recommendation of an art in which you are a master. But I forget what I have been declaring above, and must therefore turn my eyes to the following sheets. I am not ignorant that, when offered to your perusal, they are put into the hands of one of the finest, and consequently the most indulgent judges of the age : but as there is no mediocrity in poetry, so should there be no limit to its ambition. I venture directly on the trial of my fame. If what I here present you has any merit to gain your approbation, I am not afraid of its success ; and if it fails of your notice, I give it up to its just fate. This advantage at least I secure to myself, an occasion of thus publicly declaring that I am, with the profoundest veneration, sir, your most devoted, humble servant,

James Thomson. Argument.—The subject proposed—Invocation—Address to

Mr. Dodington—An introductory reflection on the motion of the heavenly bodies ; whence the succession of the Sea­ sons—As the face of Nature in this season is almost uniform, the progress of the poem is a description of a summer’s day -—The dawn—Sunrising—Hymn to the sun—Forenoon- Summer insects described—Ilay-making—Sheep-shearing— Noon-day—A wood-land retreat—Group of herds and flocks —A solemn grove : how it affects a contemplative mind— A cataract, and rude scene—View of Summer in the torrid zone—Storm of thunder and lightning—A tale—The storm over, a serene afternoon—Bathing—Hour of walking— Transition to the prospect of a rich well cultivated country, which introduces a panegyric on Great Britain—Sunset— Evening—Night—Summer meteors—A comet—The whole concluding with the praise of philosophy.

From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,

Child of the Sun, refulgentSummer comes,

In prideof youtli, and felt through Nature’s depth ; He comesattendedby thesultryhours,

Andever-fanning breezes, on his way ;

40 SUMMER.

Avertsher blushing face ; and earth, and skies,

Ail-smiling, tohis hot dominion leaves.

Hence, let me hasteinto the mid-woodshade,

Where scarceasunbeam wandersthroughthegloom

And on the dark green grass, beside thebrink

Of haunted stream, thatbytheroots of oak

Rolls o’er therocky channel, lie at large, Andsingthe gloriesof the circling year.

Come,inspiration ! iromthy hermit seat,

By mortal seldom found : may fancy dare,

From thyfixedserious eye, and rapturedglance

Shotout surroundingHeaven, to steal one look Creative of the poet, everypower

Exalting to an ecstasyof soul.

And thou, myyouthful muse’s early friend, In whomthe human graces all unite ; Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart;

Geniusand wisdom ; thegay social sense,

By decency chastised ; goodnessand wit,

In seldom-meeting harmony combined ; Unblemished honor, and an active zeal For Britain’s glory, liberty, andman : O Dodington ! attendmyruralsong, Stoopto my theme, inspirit every line. Andteach meto deserve thy just applause.

Withwhat an awful world-revolving power

Were firstthe tin wieldly planets launched along Theillimitable void ! thusto remain,

Amid the fluxof many thousand years,

Thateft has swept the toiling race of men And alltheir labored monuments away, Firm,unremitting, matchless, intheir course ; To the kind-tempered change of nightand day,

Andof the Seasonseverstealing round, Minutely faithful : such theAll-perfect Hand

That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole. Whennow no more the alternate Twins are fired.

And Cancerreddens with the solar blaze, Shortisthe doubtfulempire of thenight ;

SUMMER. 41

The meek-eyed morn appears,mother ofdews,

At first faint gleaming in the dappled east — Till far o’er ether spreadsthe wideningglow, And, from before theluster ofher face,

White break the clouds away. With quickenedstep

Brownnight retires. Young daypours inapace,

Andopens all the lawnyprospectwide.

Thedripping rock,the mountain’s misty top,

Swell on the sight, and brighten with thedawn. Blue,through the dust, the smoking currentsshine ;

Andfrom thebladedfield thefearful-hare Limps, awkward ; whilealongthe forest glade The wild deer trip, andoftenturninggaze

At early passenger. Musicawakes, Thenative voice of undissembled joy; And thick around the woodland hymns arise. Roused by the cock, thesoon-clad shepherd leaves Hismossy cottage,where with peace he dwells ;

And from the crowded fold, in order, drives Hisflock,to taste the verdureof themorn.

Falsely luxurious, will not man awake; And, springingfrom thebed of sloth, enjoy

The cool, the fragrant, and thesilent hour, To meditation due and sacred song?

For is there aughtin sleepcan charm the wise? Tolie in dead oblivion, losing half

The fleeting moments of too short a life ;

Totalextinction of the enlightened soul ! Or else to feverish vanity alive,

Wildered, and tossing through distempered dreams ! Who would in suchagloomy state remain

Longer than Nature craves ; wheneverymuse Andevery blooming pleasurewait without,

To bless the wildly-devious morning-walk ?

But yonder comes the powerful king of day,

Rejoicing in theeast. The lessening cloud, The kindling azure, and the mountain’s brow

Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach Betoken glad. Lo ! now apparent all,

42 SUMMER.

He looks in boundless majesty abroad ;

And shedsthe shining day, that burnished plays

On rocks, and bilk, and towers, and wandering streams,

High-gleamingfrom ¿.far. Prime cheerer, light! Of all materia! beings, first and best!

Efflux divine! Nature'sresplendent robe!

Without whose vesting beauty all werewrapt

In unessential gloom ; and thou, O sun !

Soul of surrounding vorlds1 in whom best seen

Shines out thy Maker i 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 bourn

Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round

Ofthirty years, to Mercury, whose disk Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, Lostin the near effulgence of thy blaze.

Informer of the planetary train!

Withoutwhose quickening glance theircumbrous orbs Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead,

Andnot, as now, the green abodes of life — How manyforms of being wait on thee!

Inhaling spirit; from the unfettered mind,

By theesublimed, down to the daily race, The mixing myriadsof thy settingbeam.

The vegetable world is also thine, Parentof Seasons 1 whothe pomp precede

Thatwaits thy throne, asthrough thy vast domain, Annual, along the bright ecliptic road,

In the world-rejoicing state, it moves sublime, Meantime, the expectingnations, circled gay Withall the various tribes of foodful earth, Implore thybounty, or sendgrateful up

A common hymn ; while, roundthy beaming car, II igh-seen, the Seasons lead, in sprightlydance

Harmonious knit, the rosy-fingered hours,

Thezephyrs floating loose, the timely rains,

Ofbloom ethereal thelight-footed dews, And softened intojoy the surly storms.

SUMMER. 43

Thesein successive turn, with lavish hand,

Shower every beauty, everyfragrance shower,

Herbs, flowers, andfruits ; till, kindling atthy touch, From landto land is flushed the vernal year.

Norto thesurface of enlivenedearth,

Gracefulwithhillsand dales,and leafy woods,

Her liberal tresses,is thy force confined — But, totheboweled cavern dartingdeep, Themineral kinds confess thy mighty power.

Effulgent, hence theveiny marbleshines ;

Hencelabordraws histools; hence burnished war

Gleamson theday; the nobler works of peace

Henceblessmankind ; and generous commerce binds Theroundofnations inagolden chain.

Theunfruitfulrockitself,impregned by thee,

In dark retirement formsthelucidstone.

Thelivelydiamond drinks thy purest rays,

Collected light, compact ; that, polished bright. And allits nativeluster letabroad,

Dares, as it sparkleson the fair one’s breast,

Withvain ambition emulate her eyes.

Atthee,the ruby lights itsdeepening glow.

Andwith a waving radianceinwardflames.

From theethe sapphire,solid ether, takes

Its hue cerulean; and, of evening tinet, The purple-streaming amethystis thine.

Withthyownsmile the yellow topaz burns ; Nordeeper verdure dyestherobeofSpring,

Whenfirst she gives it to the southern gale,

Than the green emerald shows. But, allcombined,

Thick through the whiteningopalplay thybeams Or,flying several from itssurface, form

A trembling variance ofrevolving hues,

As the sight varies in the gazer’s hand.

Thevery dead creation, from thy touch,

Assumesamimic life. By thee refined,

In brighter mazes the relucentstream

Playso’er themead. The precipiceabrupt.

Projecting horroron the blackenedflood,