I too must mix my sad complaint with theirs,
Our fates are equal, equal be our woe.
Come, Melancholy, spread thy raven wing,
And in thy ebon car, by Fancy led,
To the dark charnel vault thy vot'ry bring,
The murky mansions of the mould ring dead,
Where dank dews breathe, and taint the sickly
skies,
[lies.
Where in sad loathsome heaps all human glory

VIII.

Wrapt in the gloom of uncreated night

Secure we slept in senseless matter's arms, Nor pain could vex, nor pallid fear affright, Our quiet fancy felt no dream's alarms. Soon as to life our animated clay

Awakes, and conscious being opes our eyes, Care's fretful family at once dismay,

With ghastly air a thousand phantoms rise, Sad Horror hangs o'er all the deep'ning gloom, Grief prompts the labor'd sigh, Death opes the marble tomb.

IX.

Yet life's strong love intoxicates the soul,

And thirst of bliss inflames the fev'rish mind, With eager draughts we drain the pois'nous bowl,

And in the dregs the cordial hope to find. ( Heav'n! for this light end were mortals made, And plac'd on earth, with happiness in view, To catch with cheated grasp the flitting shade,

And with vain toil the fancied form pursue, Then give their short-liv'd being to the wind, As the wing'd arrow flies, and leaves no track behind!

X. Thus lonely wand'ring through the nightly shade

Against the stern decrees of stubborn Fate, To mockful Echo my complaints I made,

Of life's short period, or its toilsome state. 'Tis death-like silence all, no sound I hear, Save the hoarse raven croaking from the sky, Or scaly beetle murm'ring through the air, Or screech-owl screaming with ill-omen'd

cry ; [tow'r Save when with brazen tongue from you high The clock deep-sounding speaks, and counts the passing hour.

XVI.

Then let not Fancy with her vagrant blaze Mislead in trackless paths of wild deceit ; On reason's steady lamp still ardent gaze; Led by her sober light to Truth's retreat. Though wond'ring Ign'rance sees each form decay, [flow'r : The breathless bird, bare trunk, and shrivel'd New forms successive catch the vital ray, Sing their wild notes, or smile th' allotted hour,

And search creation's ample circuit round, Though modes of being change, all life's immortal found.

XVII.

See the slow reptile grov'lling o'er the green, That trails through slimy paths its cumbrous load,

Start in new beauty from the lowly scene,

And wing with flutt'ring pride th' etherial road;

Burst their shell-prisons, see the feather'd kind, Where in dark durance pent a while they lie, Dispread their painted plumage to the wind, Brush the brisk air, swift shooting through the sky,

Hail with their coral hymns the new-born day, Distend their joy-swoln breast, and carol the sweet lay.

XVIII. See man by varied periods fixt by fate Ascend perfection's scale by slow degree; The plant-like foetus quits its senseless state, And helpless hangs sweet-smiling on the knee; Soon outward objects steal into the brain,

Next prattling childhood lisps with mimic air, Then mem'ry links her fleet ideal train,

And sober reason rises to compare, The full-grown breast some manly passion

warms,

It pants for glory's meed, or beats to love's alarms. XIX.

Then say, since nature's high behest appears That living forms should change of being

XXII.

XXV.

When just expiring hangs life's trembling light, And fell disease strikes deep the deadly dart," Reason and meni'ry burn with ardor bright, And gen'rous passions warm the throbbing heart;

Oft will the vig'rous soul in life's last stage With keenest relish taste pure mental joys; Since the fierce efforts of distemper'd rage

Nor 'bates her vigor, nor her pow'rs destroys, Say, shall her lustre death itself impair? When in high noon she rides, then sets in dark despair?

XXVI.

Though through the heart no purple tide should flow,

No quiv'ring nerve should vibrate to the brain, The mental pow'rs no mean dependence know; Thought inay survive, and each fair passion

reign;

As when Lucina ends the pangful strife,

Lifts the young babe, and lights her lambent flame,

Some pow'rs new-waking hail the dawning life, Some unsuspended live, unchang'd, the same;

pow'r

In temporary death the senses lie, When solemn silence reigns at midnight hour, Deaf the dull ear, and clos'd the curtain'd eye; Objects of sense, each conscious sense asleep, With lively image strike the wakeful soul, Some frowning rock that threats the foaming deep, [d'ring roll, Or wood-hung vale, where streams meanSome long-lost friend's returning voice you hear, Clasp the life-pictur'd shade, and drop the pleasing tear.

Some posthumous survive, and triumph o'er the tomb.

No pleasing transports of perception knows, The rev'rend oak, that circling springs renew, Thinks not, nor by long age experienc'd

Unschool'd in early prime, in riper years Wretched and scorn'd still struts the bearded boy :

The tingling rod bedew'd with briny tears Shoots forth in graceful fruits of manly joy : The painful cares that vex the toilsome spring Shall plenteous crops of bliss in life's last harvest bring.

XXX.

She ceas'd, and vanish'd into sightless windO'er my torn breast alternate passions sway, Now Doubt desponding damps the wav'ring

mind,

Now Hope reviving sheds her cheerful ray. Soon from the skies in heav'nly white array'd, Faith, to my sight reveal'd, fair Cherub! stood,

So while the wat'ry wilderness he roams, Incens'd to sevenfold rage the tempest foams; And o'er the trembling pines, above, below, Shrill through the cordage howls, with notes of

woe.

With I fe replete the volume she display'd,
Seal'd with the ruddy stains of crimson blood;
Each fear now starts away, as spectres fly
When the sun's orient beam first gilds the
ple sky.

XXXI.

Meanwhile the faithful herald of the day, The village cock, crows loud with trumpet shrill,

The warbling lark soars high, and morning gray Lifts her glad forehead o'er the cloud-wrapt hill: Nature's wild music fills the vocal vale;

The bleating flocks that bite the dewy ground, The lowing herds that graze the woodland dale, And cavern'd echo, swell the cheerful sound; Homeward I bend with clear unclouded mind, Mix with the busy world, and leave each care behind.

§ 154. From the Shipwreck. FALCONER.
Now, borne impetuous o'er the boiling deeps,
Her course to Attic shores the vessel keeps:
The pilots, as the waves behind her swell,
Still with the wheeling stern their force repel.
For this assault should either quarter feel,
Again to flank the tempest she might reel.
The steersmen every bidden turn apply;
To right and left the spokes alternate fly.
Thus when some conquer'd host retreats in fear,
The bravest leaders guard the broken rear;
Indignant they retire, and long oppose
Superior armies that around them close;
Still shield the flanks; the routed squadrons
join ;

And guide the flight in one embodied line:
So they direct the flying bark before
Th' impelling floods that lash her to the shore.
As some benighted traveller, through the shade,
Explores the devious path with heart dismay'd;
While prowling savages behind him roar,
And yawning pits and quagmires lurk before
High o'er the poop the audacious seas aspire,
Uproll'd in hills of fluctuating fire.

As some fell conqueror, frantic with success,
Sheds o'er the nations ruin and distress;

head.

It seem'd, the wrathful angel of the wind
Had all the horrors of the skies combin'd;
And here to one ill-fated ship oppos'd,
At once the dreadful magazine disclos'd.
And lo! tremendous o'er the deep he springs,
Th' inflaming sulphur flashing from his wings!
Hark! his strong voice the dismal silence
breaks!

Mad chaos from the chains of death awakes!
Loud and more loud the rolling peals enlarge,
And blue on deck their blazing sides discharge:
There, all aghast, the shivering wretches stood,
While chill suspense and fear congeal'd their
blood.

Now in a deluge bursts the living flame,

And dread concussion rends th' etherial frame: Sick earth convulsive groans from shore to shore, And nature shuddering feels the horrid roar.

Still the sad prospect rises on my sight, Reveal'd in all its mournful shade and light. Swift through my pulses glides the kindling fire,

As lightning glances on th' electric wire.
But ah! the force of numbers strives in vain,
The glowing scene unequal to sustain.

But lo! at last, from tenfold darkness born,
Forth issues o'er the wave the weeping morn.
Hail, sacred vision! who, on orient wing,
The cheering dawn of light propitious bring!
All nature smiling hail'd the vivid ray,
That gave her beauties to returning day:
All but our ship, that, groaning on the tide,
No kind relief, no gleam of hope descry'd.
For now in front, her trembling inmates see
The hills of Greece emerging on the lee.
So the lost lover views that fatal morn,
On which, for ever from his bosom torn,
The nymph ador'd resigns her blooming charms
To bless with love some happier rival's arms.
So to Eliza dawn'd that cruel day,
That tore Aneas from her arms away;