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COW PER.

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ANON

His eyes, a dusky light, congeal'd and dead, | And naked grandeur. Awful is the tone His robe, a tinge 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 white surges to the sounding shore. Thou hast thy decorations too, although

Thou art anstere ; thy studded mantle gay
With icy brilliants, which as prondly glow
As erst Golconda's ;--and thy pure array
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 congeal'd upon thy lips, thy

cheeks Fring'd with a beard made white with other

WINTER WAKES SPRING. Than those of age, thy forehead wrapt in

clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne

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 seemist,

Dread Winter comes, and all around him And dreaded as thou art! Thon hold'st the

throws

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

pour. noon,

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 Of social converse and instructive ease,

Shall Winter rage for ever? No! the sound And gathering, at short notice, in une group,

Of his rade car shall rouse the slumb'ring The family dispers’d, and fixing thought,

Spring Not less dispers'd by daylight and its cares,

Beneath the kindling sín, 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 loog uninterrupted ev’ning, know.

The rays of beav'nly Spring shall crown thy

head.

sun

more.

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Through th' imperceptible meand'ring veins. The bright profusion of her scatter'd stars.-Of leaf and flow'r? It sleeps ; and th' icy | These have been, and these shall be in their touch

day : Of unprolific winter has impress'

And all this uniform uncolour'd scene A cold stagnation on the intestine tide: 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 man Barren as lances, among which the win In heav'nly truth: evincing, as she makes Makes wintry music, sighing as it goes,

The grand transition, that there lives and

works
Shall put their graceful foliage on again,
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.
Then each in its peculiar honours clad,
Shall publish even to the distant eye
Its family and tribe. Laburnum, rich

THE SEASONS MORALIZED.
In streaming gold; syringa, iv'ry pure;

DWIGHT. The scentless and the scented rose; this red

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 anjoyous plain ; The lilac, 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; Studious 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 hills again, With never-cloying odours, early and late!

And streams re-murmur o'er the plaio.
Hypericum all bloom, so thick a swarm

Hark! Hark! the joy-inspiring grove
or now'rs, like flies clothing berslender 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 our years must soon be gone ;

Sudden death, with mournful gloom,
sweets,
The deep dark green of whose opvarnish'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,
Disdains the bondage of the tomb;

* The guelder-rose.

Ascends above the clonds of even,
Ant raptar'd hails her native Heav'n,
Youth, and peace, and beauty, there
For ever dance around the year ;
And endless joy invests the pole,
And streams of ceaseless pleasure roll;
Sighs, and joy, and grace divine,
With bright and lasting glory shine;
Jehovah's smile, with heavenly ray,
Diffuses clear unbounded day.

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 shines 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, thoa bidst the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast.

COW PER. 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 bis 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'd, 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 brute unconscious

gaze, Man marks not 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

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,

THOMSON.

Tuese, as they change, Almighty Father!

these Are but the varied God. The rolling year

Nature, attend ! join, every living soul Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, In adoration join ; and ardent raise One general song! To him, ye vocal gales,

F

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 flame 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 bim; Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, Flames on th’ Atlantic 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; 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 Shepberd 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,

praise.

come

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