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HORRID DREAMS. WHAT DREAMS PORTEND. Not all a monarch's luxury the woes Can counterpoise of that most wretched man, Whose nights are shaken with the frantic fits Of wild Orestes ; whose delirious brain, Stung by the Furies, works with poisoned thought : While pale and monstrous painting shocks the soul; And mangled consciousness bemoans itself Forever torn, and chaos floating round. What dreams presage, what dangers these or those Portend to sanity, though prudent seers Revealed of old, and men of deathless fame, We would not to the superstitious mind Suggest new throbs, new vanities of fear. 'Tis ours to teach you from a peaceful night To banish omens and all restless woes.
MIDNIGHT STUDY AND NOONDAY SLEEP REPROBATED.
NIGHT. - EFFECT OF CHILLED CIRCULATION, BY CHECKED
The body, fresh and vigorous from repose,
By toil subdued, the warrior and the hind Sleep fast and deep : their active functions soon With generous streams the subtle tubes supply ; And soon the tonic, irritable nerves Feel the fresh impulse, and awake the soul. The sons of indolence with long repose Grow torpid : and, with slowest Lethe drunk, Feebly and lingeringly return to life, Blunt every sense, and powerless every limb. Ye prone to sleep (whom sleeping most annoys), On the hard mattress or elastic couch Extend your limbs, and wean yourselves from sloth; Nor grudge the lean projector, of dry brain And springy nerves, the blandishments of down ;
Nor envy, while the buried bacchanal
HABITS TO BE CHANGED ONLY GRADUALLY.
Observe the circling year. How unperceived Her seasons change ! Behold! by slow degrees, Stern Winter tamed into a ruder Spring ; The ripened Spring a milder Summer glows; Departing Summer sheds Pomona's store ; And aged Autumn brews the winter storm. Slow as they come, these changes come not void Of mortal shocks : the cold and torrid reigns, The two great periods of the important year, Are in their first approaches seldom safe : Funereal Autumn all the sickly dread, And the black Fates deform the lovely Spring.
He well-advised, who taught our wiser sires Early to borrow Muscovy's warm spoils, Ere the first frost has touched the tender blade ; And late resign them, though the wanton Spring Should deck her charms with all her sister's rays. For while the effluence of the skin maintains Its native measure, the pleuritic Spring Glides harmless by ; and Autumn, sick to death With sallow quartans, no contagion breathes.
IF DISEASE THREATENS, CoxstLT YOUR PHYSICIAX. I in prophetic numbers could unfold The omens of the year : what seasons teem With what diseases ; what the humid South Prepares, and what the demon of the East : But you perhaps refuse the tedious song. Besides, whatever plagues in heat, or cold, Or drought, or moisture, dwell, they hurt not you, Skilled to correct the vices of the sky, And taught already how to each extreme To bend your life. But should the public bane Infect you ; or some trespass of your own, Or flaw of nature, hint mortality : Soon as a not unpleasing horror glides Along the spine, through all your torpid limbs ; When first the head throbs, or the stomach feels A sickly load, a weary pain the loins ; Be Celsus called ; the Fates come rushing on ; The rapid Fates admit of no delay. While wilful you, and fatally secure, Expect to-morrow's more auspicious sun, The growing pest, whose infancy was weak And easy vanquished, with triumphant sway O’erpowers your life. For want of timely care, Millions have died of medicable wounds.
SWEATING PLAGUE DURING THE CIVIL WARS OF EXGLAND.
APPARENT TRIFLES MAY EXPOSE LIFE.-EPIDEMICS. Were grown more fell, more putrid, and malign. Ah! in what perils is vain life engaged !
Here lay their hopes (though little hope remained) What slight neglects, what trivial faults, destroy With full effusion of perpetual sweats The hardiest frame ! of indolence, of toil,
To drive the venom out. And here the Fates We die ; of want, of superfluity :
Were kind, that long they lingered not in pain. The all-surrounding heaven, the vital air,
For, who survived the sun's diurnal race,
Some the sixth hour oppressed, and some the third.
Of those who lived, some felt a second blow; What livid deaths has sad Byzantium seen!
And whom the second spared, a third destroyed. How oft has Cairo, with a mother's woe,
Frantic with fear, they sought by flight to shun Wept o'er her slaughtered sons and lonely streets ! The fierce contagion. O'er the mournful land Even Albion, girt with less alignant skies,
The infected city poured her hurrying swarı Albion the poison of the gods has drank,
Roused by the flames that fired her seats around, And felt the sting of monsters all her own.
The infected country rushed into the town.
Abjured the fatal commerce of mankind :
In vain : where'er they fled, the Fates pursued. Their ancient rage, at Bosworth’s purple field ; Others, with hopes more specious, crossed the main, While, for which tyrant England should receive, To seek protection in far-distant skies ; Her legions in incestuous murders mixed,
But none they found. It seemed the general air, And daily horrors ; till the Fates were drunk
From pole to pole, from Atlas to the East, With kindred blood by kindred hands profused ;
Was then at enmity with English blood. Another plague, of more gigantic arm,
For, but the race of England, all were safe Arose ; a monster never known before
In foreign climes ; nor did this fury taste Reared from Cocytus its portentous head.
The foreign blood which England then contained. This rapid fury not like other pests
Where should they fly? The circumambient heaven Pursued a gradual course, but in a day
Involved them still ; and every breeze was bane. Rushed as a storm o'er half the astonished isle, Where find relief? The salutary art And strewed with sudden carcasses the land.
Was mute ; and, startled at the new disease, First through the shoulders, or whatever part In fearful whispers hopeless omens gave. (prayers; Was seized the first, a fervid vapor sprung.
To Heaven with suppliant rites they sent their With rash combustion thence the quivering spark Heaven heard them not. Of every hope deprived ; Shot to the heart, and kindled all within ;
Fatigued with vain recourses ; and subdued And soon the surface caught the spreading fires.
With woes resistless and enfeebling fear ; Through all the yielding pores, the melted blood
Passive they sunk beneath the weighty blow. Gushed out in smoky sweats ; but naught assuaged Nothing but lamentable sounds was heard, The torrid heat within, nor aught relieved
Nor aught was seen but ghastly views of death. The stomach's anguish. With incessant toil, Infectious horror ran from face to face, Desperate of ease, impatient of their pain,
And pale despair. 'Twas all the business then They tossed from side to side. In vain the stream
To tend the sick, and in their turns to die. Ran full and clear ; they burnt and thirsted still. In heaps they fell : and oft one bed, they say, The restless arteries with rapid blood
The sickening, dying, and the dead contained. Beat strong and frequent. Thick and pantingly The breath was fetched, and with huge laborings Ye guardian gods, on whom the fates depend At last a heavy pain oppressed the head, [heaved. Of tottering Albion ! ye eternal fires (powers A wild delirium came ; their weeping friends That lead through heaven the wandering year! ye Were strangers now, and this no home of theirs. That o'er the encircling elements preside! Harassed with toil on toil, the sinking powers May nothing worse than what this age has seen Lay prostrate and o'erthrown ; a ponderous sleep Arrive! Enough abroad, enough at home, Wrapt all the senses up : they slept and died. Has Albion bled. Here a distempered heaven In some a gentle horror crept at first
Has thinned her cities ; from those lofty cliffs O'er all the limbs; the sluices of the skin
That awe proud Gaul, to Thule's wintry reign ; Withheld their moisture, till, by art provoked, While in the west, beyond the Atlantic foam, The sweats o'erflowed ; but in a clammy tide : Her bravest sons, keen for the fight, have died Now free and copious, now restrained and slow; The death of cowards and of common men : Of tinctures various, as the temperature
Sunk void of wounds, and fallen without renown. Had mixed the blood ; and rank with fetid steams : But from these views the weeping Muses turn, As if the pent-up humors by delay
And other themes invite my wandering song.
PRAYER FOR GREAT BRITAIN.
Rural Odes for October.
And what a change hath passed upon the face
of Nature, where thy waving forests spread, With what a glory comes and goes the year !
Then robed in deepest green ! All through the night The buds of Spring – those beautiful harbingers
The subtle frost hath plied its mystic art, Of sunny skies and cloudless times — enjoy
And in the day the golden sun hath wrought Life's newness, and earth's garniture spread out;
True wonders ; and the wings of morn and even And when the sily habit of the clouds
Have touched with magic broath the changing leaves. Comes down upon the Autumn sun, and with
And now, as wanders the dilating eye A sober gladness the old year takes up
Athwart the varied landscape circling far, His bright inheritance of golden fruits,
What gorgeousness, what blazonry, what pomp A pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene.
Of colors, bursts upon the ravished sight! There is a beautiful spirit breathing now
Here, where the maple rears its yellow crest, Its mellow richness on the clustered trees,
A golden glory ; yonder, where the oak And from a beaker full of richest dyes
Stands monarch of the forest, and the ash Pouring new glory on the Autumn woods,
Is girt with flame-like parasite, and broad And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. The dog-wood spreads beneath a rolling field Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird,
Of deepest crimson ; and afar, where looms
The gnarléd gum, a cloud of bloodiest red !
BRYANT'S “ AUTUMN WOODS.”
ERE, in the northern gale,
The summer tresses of the trees are gone,
The woods of Autumn, all around our vale,
Have put their glory on.
The mountains that infold,
In their wide sweep, the colored landscape round, From cottage roofs the warbling blue-bird sings; Seem groups of giant kings in purple and gold, And merrily with oft-repeated stroke
That guard the enchanted ground. Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail.
I roam the woods that crown
The upland, where the mingled splendors glow, O what a glory doth this world put on
Where the gay company of trees look down For him that with a fervent heart
forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks
On the green fields below. On duties well performed, and days well spent !
My steps are not alone For him the wind, ay, the yellow leaves,
In these bright walks; the sweet south-west, at play, Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings. Flies, rustling, where the painted leaves are strewn He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death
Along the winding way. Has lifted up for all, that he shall go
And far in heaven, the while,
The sun, that sends that gale to wander here,
year. GALLAGHER'S “ WESTERN AUTUMN.”
Where now the solemn shade, The Autumn time is with us! Its approach
Verdure and gloom where many branches meet; Was heralded, not many days ago,
So grateful, when the noon of Summer made By bazy skies that veiled the brazen sun,
The valleys sick with heat ? And sea-like murmurs from the rustling corn,
Let in through all the trees And low-voiced brooks that wandered drowsily Come the strange rays; the forest depths are bright; By purling clusters of the juicy grape,
Their sunny-colored foliage in the breeze Swinging upon the vine. And now, 't is here !
Twinkles, like beams of light.
The rivulet, late unseen, Where bickering through the shrubs its waters run, Shines with the image of its golden screen,
And glimmerings of the sun.
But, 'neath yon crimson tree,
Her blush of maiden shame.
0, Autumn ! why so soon Depart the hues that make thy forests glad ; Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon,
And leave thee wild and sad !
Ah, 't were a lot too blest Forever in thy colored shades to stray ; Amidst the kisses of the soft south-west
To rove and dream for aye ;
And leave the vain, low strife That makes men mad—the tug for wealth and power, The passions and the cares that wither life,
And waste its little hour.
O'er joys that ne'er will bloom again
Mourns on the far bill-side.
And yet my pensive eye
That lies beyond, I sigh.
The moon unveils her brow;
The valley sleeps below.
I stand deep musing here, Beneath the dark and motionless beech, Whilst wandering winds of nightfall reach
My melancholy ear
The air breathes chill and free ; A spirit, in soft music, calls From Autumn's gray and moss-grown halls,
And round her withered tree.
The hoar and mantled oak, With moss and twisted ivy brown, Bends in its lifeless beauty down,
Where weeds the fountain choke.
Leaves, that the night-wind bears
And of our fading years.
The tree that shades the plain, Wasting and hoar as time decays, Spring shall renew with cheerful days,
But not my joys again.
LONGFELLOW'S “AUTUMNAL NIGHT
And stars in beauty burn.
'T is the year's eventide. The wind — like one that sighs in pain
The subject proposed. The origin of hunting. The rude and
unpolished manners of the first hunters. Beasts at first hunted for food and sacrifice. The grant made by God to man of the beasts, Gen. 9: 3. The regular manner of hunting first brought into Britain by the Normans. The best horses and best hounds bred here. The advantage of this exercise to the British, as islanders. Address to gentlemen of estates. Situation of the kennel and its several courts. The diversion and employment of hounds in the kennel. The different sorts of hounds for each different chase. Description of a perfect hound. Of sizing and sorting of hounds; the middle-sized hounds recommended. of the large, deep-mouthed, for hunting the stag and otter. Of the lime-hound ; their use on the borders of England and Scotland. A physical account of scents. Of good and bad scenting days. A short admonition to my brethren of the couples.
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR INTRODUCED THE REGULAR CHASE.
Or chance or industry in after times
: To rear, feed, hunt, and discipline, the pack.
SUBJECT ; CHASE, HOUNDS. — RUDE ORIGIN OF HUNTING.
EXCELLENCE OF BRITISH HORSES AND HOUNDS. —TSE.
The chase I sing, hounds, and their various breed,
Hail, happy Britain : highly-favored isle,
And Heaven's peculiar care ! to thee 't is given That mighty hunter ! first made war on beasts, To train the sprightly steed, more fleet than those And stained the woodland green with purple dye,
Begot by winds, or the celestial breed New and unpolished was the huntsman's art; That bore the great Pelides through the press No stated rule, his wanton will his guide,
Of heroes armed, and broke their crowded ranks, With clubs and stones, rude implements of war ! Which proudly neighing, with the sun begins, He armed his savage bands, a multitude
Cheerful, his course, and, ere his beams decline, Untrained : of twining osiers formed, they pitch Has measured half thy surface unfatigued. Their artless toils, then range the desert hills
In thee alone, fair land of Liberty ! And scour the plains below : the trembling herd
Is bred the perfect hound, in scent and speed Start at the unusual sound, and clamorous shout,
As yet unrivalled, while in other climes Unheard before ; surprised, alas ! to find [lord, Their virtue fails, a weak, degenerate race. Man now their foe, whom erst they deemed their
In vain malignant steams and winter fogs But mild and gentle, and by whom as yet
Load the dull air and hover round our coast; Secure they grazed. Death stretches o'er the plain The huntsman ever gay, robust, and bold, Wide wasting, and grim slaughter, red with blood :
Defies the noxious vapor, and confides Crged on by hunger keen, they wound, they kill; In this delightful exercise to raise Their rage licentious knows no bound ; at last, His drooping head, and cheer his heart with joy. Encumbered with their spoils, joyful they bear Upon their shoulders broad the bleeding prey.
THE VETERAN HUNTER TO WEALTHY LANDHOLDERS. Part on their altar smokes, a sacrifice
Ye vig'rous youths ! by smiling fortune blest To that all-gracious Power whose bounteous hand With large demesnes, hereditary wealth Supports this wide creation ; what remains, Heaped copious by your wise forefathers' care, On living coals they broil, inelegant
Hear and attend ! while I the means reveal Of taste, nor skilled as yet in nicer arts
To enjoy these pleasures, for the weak too strong, Of pampered luxury. Devotion pure,
Too costly for the poor : to rein the steed And strong necessity, thus first began
Swift stretching o'er the plain, to cheer the pack The chase of beasts ; though bloody was the deed, Opening in concert of harmonious joy, Yet without guilt ; for the green herb alone But breathing death. What though the gripe severe Unequal to sustain man's laboring race,
Of brazen-fisted time, and slow disease Now every moving thing that lived' on earth Creeping through every vein, and nerve unstrung, Was granted him for food. So just is Heaven Amict my shattered frame,-undaunted still To give us in proportion to our wants.
Fixed as a mountain-ash that braves the bolts