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His eyes, a dusky light, congeal'd and dead, | And naked grandeor. Awful is the tone His robe, a tinye of bright ethereal blue --- Of thy tempestuous nights, when clouds are
blown His train, a motley'd, sanguine, sable cloud, By hurrying winds across the troubled sky; He limps along the rosset dreary moor; Pensive, when softer breezes faintly sigh Whilst rising whirlwinds, blasting, keen, Through leafless boughs, with ivy overand loud,
grown. Roll the wbite surges to the sounding shore. Thou hast thy decorations too, although
Thou art anstere ; thy studded mantle gay
Of regal ermine, when the drifted snow
Envelopes nature; till her features seem O WINTER, ruler of th' inverted year, Like pale, like lovely ones, seen when we Thy scatter'd hair with sleet like ashes fill'd, dream. Thy breath congeald upon thy lips, thy
cheeks Fring'd with a beard made white with other Snows
WINTER WAKES SPRING. Than those of age, thy forehead wrapt in clouds,
ANON. A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne n.
MANTLED in storms; attended by the roar A sliding car, indebted to no wheels,
Of whirling winds, and flight of showery But urg'd by storms along its slipp'ry way;
snows, I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st,
Dread Winter comes, and all around him And dreaded as thou art! Thou hold'st the
Wide desolation. From his northern store A pris'ner in the yet andawning east,
Tempests of hail, and dark-robed thunders Short'ning his journey between morn and
The gurgling rivulet no longer flows And hurrying him, impatient of his stay,
When he with icy breath upon it blows: Down to the rosy west; but kindly still
'The naked trees and shrubs look gay no Compensating his loss with added hours
more. Of social converse and instructive ease, And gathering, at short notice, in une group, of his rade car shall rouse the slumb'ring
Shall Winter rage for ever? No! the sound The family dispers'd, and fixing thought,
Spring Not less dispers'd by daylight and its cares,
Beneath the kindling siin, the verdant ground I crown thee king of intimate delights,
Shall bloom again, the groves with music. Fireside enjoyments, bomeborn happiness,
ring. And all the comforts that the lowly roof
| Child of distress ;--when life's black storms Of undisturb'd Retirement, and the hours
are fled, Of long aninterrupted ev'ning, know.
The rays of beav'nly Spring shall crown thy
SONNET TO WINTER.
WINTER CEDING TO SPRING.
Thou hast thy beauties : sterner ones I own, Where now the vital energy, that mov'd, Than those of thy precursors; yet to thee While summer was, the pure and subtle Belong the charms of solemn majesty, il lymph
Through th' imperceptible meand'ring veins. The bright profusion of her scatter'd stars. Of leaf and flow'r? It sleeps; anil th' icy These have been, and these shall be in their touch
day: Of unprolific winter has impress'd
And all this uniform uncolour'd scene A cold stagnation on the intestine title:
Shall be dismantled of its fleecy load, But let the months go round, a few short And flush into variety again. months
From dearth to plenty, and from death tolife. And all shall be resor'd. These naked shoots, Is Nature's progress, wheu she lectures inan Barren as lances, among which the wind / In heav'nly truth: evincing, as she makes Makes wintry music, sighing as it goes, The grand transition, that there lives and Shall put their graceful foliage on again, works And more aspiring, and with ampler spread A soul in all things, and that soul is God. Shall boast new charms, and more than
they have lost.
THE SEASONS MORALIZED.
BEHOLD the changes of the skies, And of an humbler growth, the other tall*
And see the circling seasons rise ; And throwing up into the darkest gloom
Hence let the mournful truth refin'd, Of neighb'ing cypress, or more sable yew,
Improve the beauty of the mind, Her silver globes, light as the foamy surf,
Winter late, with dreary reign, That the wind severs from the broken wave;
Ruled the wide unjoyous plain ; The Jilac, various in array, now white,
Gloomy storms with solemn roar, Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now
Shook the hoarse resonnding shore; set
Sorrow cast her sadness round, With purple spikes pyramidal, as if
Life and joy forsook the ground; Sindious of ornament, yet unresolv'd
Death, with wild imperious sway, Which bue she most approv'd, she chose
Bade the expiring world decay. them all; Copious of flow'rs the woodbine, pale and
Now, cast around thy raptur'd eyes, wan,
And see the beauteous Spring arise; Bat well compensating her sickly looks
See flowers invest the bills again, With never-cloying odours, early and late !
And streams re-murmur o'er the plain. Hypericum all bloom, so thick a swarm
Hark! Hark! the joy-inspiring grove Ornow'rs, like flies clothing her slender rods,
Echoes to the voice of Love. That scarce a leaf appears : mezereon 100,
Balmy gales the sound prolong, Though leafless, well attir'd, and thick beset
Wafting round the woodland song. With blushing wreaths, investing every
spray; Althæa with the purple eye; the broom,
Such the scenes our life displays, Yellow and bright, as bullion unalloy'd,
Swiftly fleet our rapid days, Her blossoms; and luxuriant above all
The hour that rolls for ever on, The jasmine, throwing wide her elegant
Tells us var years must soon be gone; sweets,
Sudden death, with mournful gloom, The deep dark green of whose unvarnish'a |
Sweeps us downward to the tomb; leaf
Life, and health, and joy, decay, Makes more conspicuous, and illumines
Nature sinks, and dies away. more
But the soul in gayest bloom, * The guelder-rose.
Disdains the bondage of the tomb;
Ascends above the clonds of even,
| Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring
Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields; the softening air is
balm ; Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles; And every sense, and every heart is joy. Then comes thy glory in the Summer months With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling
year: And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks; And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow whisper
ing gales. Thy bounty sbines in Autumn unconfined, And spreads a common feast for all that live, In Winter, awful thou! with clouds and
storms Around thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest
rollid, Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing Riding sublime, thou bidst the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast.
WINTER has a joy for me,
While the Saviour's charms I read, Lowly, meek, from blemish free,
In the snow-drop's pensive head.
Spring returns, and brings along
Life's invigorating suns: Hark! the turtle's plaintive song
Seems to speak his dying groans.
Summer has a thousand charms,
All expressive of his worth ; "Tis his son that lights and warms,
His, the air that cools the earth.
What, has Autumn left to say
Nothing of a Saviour's grace ? Yes, the beams of milder day
Tell me of his smiling face.
Light appears with early dawn:
While the sun makes haste to rise, See his bleeding beauties dawn
On the blushes of the skies.
Mysterious round! what skill, what force
divine, Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train, Yet so delightful mix'), with such kind art, Such beanty and beneficence combined; Shade, unperceived, so softening into shade; And all so forming an harmonious whole; That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. But, wandering oft, with brnte unconscious
gaze, Man marks uot thee; marks not the mighty
hand, That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres ; Works in the secret deep; shoots, streaming
thence, The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest
forth; And, as on earth this grateful change re
volves, With transport touches all the springs of I life.
Ev'ning, with a silent pace,
Slowly mnoving in the west, Shows an emblem of his grace,
Points to an eternal rest.
HYMN ON THE SEASONS.
Nature, attend ! join, every living soul Tuese, as they change, Almighty Father: Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, these
In adoration join ; and ardent raise Are but the varied God. The rolling year | One general song! To him, ye vocal gales, Breathe soft, whose spirit in your freshness | Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, breathes :
Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela! charm Oh, talk of him in solitary glooms! The listening shades, and teach the night his Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving praise.
pine Fills the brown shade with a religious awe. Ye, chief, for whom the whole creation And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar, smiles; Who shake the astonish'd world, lift high to At once the head, the beart, and tongue of all, beaven
Crown the great hymn! In swarming cities The impetuous song, and say from whom vast, you rage.
Assembled men to the deep organ join His praise, ye brooks, attune; ye trembling The long-resounding voice, oft breaking . rills;
clear, And let me catch it as I muse along. At solemn pauses, through the swelling base ; Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound; And, as each mingling fame increases each, Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze in one united ardour, rise to heaven. Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, For me, when I forgot the darling theme, A secret world of wonders in thyself; Whether the blossom blows, the summer ray Sound his stupendous praise ; whose greater Russets the plain, inspiring autumn gleams, voice
Or winter rises in the blackening east; Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat. flowers,
Should fate command me to the utmost verge In mingled clouds to him, whose sun exalts, Of the green earth, to distant barbarous Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pen. climes, cil paints.
Rivers unknown to song, where first the sun Ye forests, bend; ye harvests, wave to him; Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, Flames on th’ Atlaptic isles; 'tis nought to As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. me; Great source of day! best image here below Since God is ever present, ever felt, Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, In the void waste, as in the city full; From world to world, the vital ocean round, ! And where he vital breathes there must be On nature write, with every beam, his praise. joy. The thunder rolls; be hush'd the prostrate When even at last the solemn hour shall world;
come While cloud to cloud returns the solemn And wing my mystic flight to future worlds ; hymn.
....................I cannot go Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks, Where universal Jove not smiles around. Retain the sound: the broad responsive low Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns, Ye valleys, raise; for the great Shepherd | From seeming evil still educing good, reigns;
And better thence again, and better still, And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. In infinite progression. But I lose Ye woodlands, all awake: a boundless song Myself in him, in light ineffable ! Burst from the groves; and, when the rest. Come, then, expressive silence! muse his less day,