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And, sigbing to the lonely taper, pours
of fever'd rapture, or of cruel care ; His idly-tortur'd heart into the page,
His brightest flames extinguish'd all, and all Meant for the moving messenger of love;
His lively moments running down to waste. Where rapture burns on rapture, every line
But happy they! the happiest of their kind! With rising frenzy fir'd. But if on bed
Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Delirious fung, sleep from his pillow flies, Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend All night he losses, nor the balmy power
"Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, In any posture finds; till the grey morn
Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, Litis her pale lustre on the paler wretch, That binds their peace, but harmony itself, Exanimate by love: and then perhaps
Attuning all their passions into love; Exhausted nature sinks a while to rest,
Where friendship full exerts her softest power, Still interrupted by distracted dreams,
Perfect esteem, enliven'd by desire That o'er the sick imagination rise,
Ineffable, and sympathy of soul ; And in black colors paint the mimic scene. Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will. Oft with th' enchantress of his soul he talks; With boundless confidence : for nought but love Sometimes in crowds distress'd; or if retir'd Can answer love, and render bliss secure. To secret winding flower-enwoven bowers, Let him, ungenerous, who, alone intent Far from the dull impertinence of man,
To bless himself, from sordid parents buys Just as he, credulous, his endless cares
The lothing virgin, in eternal care, Begins to lose in blind oblivious love,
Well merited, consume his nights and days: Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how, Let barbarous nations, whose inhuman love Through forests huge, and long untravell'd heaths Is wild desire, fierce as the suns they feel; With desolation brown, he wanders waste, Let eastern tyrants, from the light of Heaven In night and tempest wrapt; or shrinks aghast, Seclude their bosom-slaves, meanly possess'd Back, from the bending precipice; or wades Of a mere, lifeless, violated form: The turbid stream below, and strives to reach While those whom love cements in holy faith, The farther shore; where succorless, and sad, And equal transport, free as Nature live, She with extended arms his aid implores;
Disdaining fear. What is the world to them, But strives in vain: borne by th' outrageous flood Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all ! To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave, Who in each other clasp whatever fair Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy sinks. High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish;
These are the charming agonies of love, Something than beauty dearer, should they look Whose misery delights. But through the heart Or on the mind, or mind-illumin'd face; Should jealousy its venom once diffuse,
Truth, goodness, honor, harmony, and love, "Tis then delightful misery no more,
The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven. But agony unmix’d, incessant gall,
Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, Corroding every thought, and blasting all
And mingles both their graces. By degrees, Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then,
The human blossom blows; and every day, Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy,
Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm, Farewell! Ye gleamings of departed peace, The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. Shine out your last! The yellow-tinging plague Then infant reason grows a pace, and calls Internal vision taints, and in a night
For the kind hand of an assiduous care.
Delightful task! to rear the lender thought,
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
The generous purpose in the glowing breast. A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek,
Oh, speak the joy! ye whom the sudden tear Where the whole poison’d soul, malignant, sits, Surprises often, while you look around, And frightens Love away. Ten thousand fears And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss, Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views
All various nature pressing on the heart :
An elegant sufficiency, content,
Progressive virtue; and approving Heaven.
These are the matchless joys of virtuous love; Giving false peace a moment. Fancy pours, And thus their moments ily. The seasons thus, Afresli, her beauties on his busy thought,
As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll, Her first endearments twining round the soul, Still find them happy; and consenting Spring With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads: Straight the fierce storm involves his mind anew, Till evening comes at last, serene and mild ; Flames through the nerves, and boils along the veins; When, after the long vernal day of life, While anxious doubt distracts the tortur'd heart: Enamour'd more, as more remembrance swells For ev'n the sad assurance of his fears
With many a proof of recollected love, Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth, Together down they sink in social sleep; Whom Love deludes into his thorny wilds, Together freed, their gentle spirits fly Through flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign
When now no more th' alternate Twins are fir'd,
And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze,
Short is the doubiful empire of the night;
And soon, observant of approaching day,
The meek-ey'd morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint-gleaming in the dappled east : The subject proposed. Invocation. Address to Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow;
Mr. Doddington. An introductory reflection on And, from before the lustre of her face, the motion of the heavenly bodies; whence the White break the clouds away. With quicken'd step, succession of the Seasons. As the face of Nature Brown night retires : young day pours in apace, in this season is almost uniform, the progress of And opens all the lawny prospect wide. the poem is a description of a summer's day. The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top, The dawn. Sun-rising. Hymn to the Sun. Fore. Swell on the sight, and brighten with ihe dawn. noon. Summer insects described. Hay-making. Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine; Sheep-shearing. Noon-day. A woodland retreat. And from the bladed field the fearful hare Group of herds and flocks. A solemn grove : Limps, awkward ; while along the forest-glade how it affects a contemplative mind. A cataract, The wild-deer trip, and often turning gaze and rude scene. View of Summer in the torrid At early passenger. Music awakes
Storm of thunder and lightning. A tale. The native voice of undissembled joy ; The storm over, a serene afternoon. Bathing. And thick around the woodland hymns arise. Hour of walking. Transition to the prospect of Rous'd by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves a rich well-cultivated country; which introduces His mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells; a panegyric on Great Britain. Sun-set. Evening. And from the crowded fold, in order, drives Night. Summer meteors. A comet. The whole His Alock to taste the verdure of the morn. concluding with the praise of philosophy.
Falsely luxurious, will not man awake;
And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy From brightening fields of ether fair disclos'd, The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes, To meditation due and sacred song ? In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth : For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise ? He comes attended by the sultry hours,
To lie in dead oblivion, losing half
The fleeting moments of too short a life;
Wilder'd, and tossing through distemper'd dreams?
And every blooming pleasure wait without, And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink To bless the wildly-devious morning walk? of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak
But yonder comes the powerful king of day, Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large,
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud,
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow
And sheds the shining day, that burnish'd plays Exalting to an ecstasy of soul.
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend,
streams, In whom the human graces all unite :
High gleaming from afar. Prime cheerer Light! Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart; Of all material beings first, and best! Genius, and wisdom; the gay social sense, EMux divine! Nature's resplendent robe! By decency chastis'd ; goodness and wit,
Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt In seldom-meeting harmony combin'd;
In unessential gloom; and thou, O Sun! Unblemish'd honor, and an active zeal
Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen For Britain's glory, liberty, and man:
Shines out thy Maker! may I sing of thee? O Doddington! attend my rural song,
"Tis by thy secret, strong, attractive force, Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line,
As with a chain indissoluble bound,
With what an awful world-revolving power Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round
Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, Amid the flux of many thousand years,
Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze. That oft has swept the toiling race of men,
Informer of the planetary train! And all their labor'd monuments away.
Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous Firm, unremiling, matchless, in their course;
orbs To the kind-lemper'd change of night and day, Were brule unlovely mass, inert and dead, And of the seasons ever stealing round,
And not, as now, the green abodes of life! Minutely faithful: such th' all-perfect Hand! How many forms of being wait on thee! That pois'd, impels, and rules the steady whole. Inhaling spiris; from th' unfetter'd mind,
By thee sublim'd, down to the daily race,
Whose single smile has, from the first of time, The mixing myriads of thy setting beam.
Fillid o'erflowing, all those lamps of Heaven, The vegetable world is also thine,
That beam for ever through the boundless sky : Parent of Seasons! who the pomp precede But, should he hide his face, th' astonish'd Sun, That waits thy throne, as through thy vast domain, And all the extinguish'd stars, would loosening reel Annual, along the bright ecliptic road,
Wide from their spheres, and Chaos come again,
And yet was every faltering tongue of man,
Ev’n in the depth of solitary woods
And to peruse its all-instructing page,
Or, haply catching inspiration thence,
Now flaming up the Heavens, the potent Sun
And morning fogs that hover'd round the hills
In party-color'd bands; till wide unveil'd
By gelid founts and careless rills to muse;
While tyrant Heat, dispreading through the sky,
On man, and beast, and herb, and tepid stream.
Who can unpitying see the flowery race, Collected light, compact; that, polish'd bright, Shed by the morn, their new-flush'd bloom resign, And all its native lustre let abroad,
Before the parching beam? So fade the fair,
But one, the lofty follower of the Sun,
Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray.
Home, from his morning task, the swain retreats;
His flock before him stepping to the fold : With thy own smile the yellow topaz burns, While the full-udder'd mother lows around Nor deeper verdure dyes the robe of Spring, The cheerful cottage, then expecting food, When first she gives it to the southern gale, The food of innocence and health! The daw, Than the green emerald shows. But, all combin'd, The rook and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks Thick through the whitening opal play thy beams; That the calm village in their verdant arms, Or, flying several from its surface, form
Sheltering, embrace, direct their lazy flight; A trembling variance of revolving hues,
Where on the mingling boughs they sit embower'd,
All the hot noon, till cooler hours arise.
And, in a corner of the buzzing shade,
The house-dog, with the vacant greyhound, lies,
Attacks the nightly thief, and one exults
O'er hill and dale; till, waken'd by the wasp,
To let the little noisy summer-race
Live in her lay, and futter through her song
Not mean, though simple; to the Sun allied,
Come wing'd abroad ; by the light air upborne
Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink, Of light, and life, and grace, and joy below! And secret corner, where they slept away
How shall I then attempt to sing of Him The wintery storms; or rising from their tombr,
To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,
Swarming they pour; of all the varied hues
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose.
Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes! Let no presuming impious railer tax
In vain, or not for admirable ends.
That this availeth nought? Has any seen They meet their fate; or, weltering in the bowl, The mighty chain of beings, lessening down With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire. From Infinite Perfection to the brink
But chief to heedless flies the window proves of dreary nothing, desolate abyss ! A constant death ; where, gloomily retird, From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns ? The villain spider lives, cunning, and fierce, Till then alone let zealous praise ascend, Mixture abhorr'd! Amid a mangled heap And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power Of carcasses, in eager watch he sits,
Whose wisdom shines as lovely on our minds, O'erlooking all his waving snares around.
As on our smiling eyes his servant Sun. Near the dire cell the dreadless wanderer oft
Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways, Passes, as oft the ruflian shows his front;
Upward, and downward, thwarting, and convolvid, The prey at last ensnar'd, he dreadful darts, The quivering nations sport; till, tempest-wing’d, With rapid glide, along the leaning line; Fierce Winter sweeps them from the face of day And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs, Ev'n so luxurious men, unheeding, pass Strikes backward grimly pleas'd: the fluttering wing An idle summer life in fortune's shine, And shriller sound declare extreme distress, A season's glitter! Thus they flutter on And ask the helping hospitable hand.
From toy to toy, from vanity to vice; Resounds the living surface of the ground: Till, blown away by Death, Oblivion comes Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum,
Behind, and strikes them from the book of life. To him who muses through the woods at noon : Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead : Or drowsy shepherd, as he lies reclin’d,
The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil, With half-shut eyes, beneath the floating shade Healthful and strong; full as the summer rose Of willows grey, close-crowding o'er the brook. Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid, Gradual, from these what numerous kinds de- Half naked, swelling on the sight, and all scend,
Her kindled graces, burning o'er her cheek. Evading ev’n the microscopic eye!
Ev'n stooping age is here : and infant-hands Full Nature swarms with life ; one wondrous mass Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load Of animals, or atoms organiz'd,
O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll. Waiting the vital Breath, when Parent-Heaven Wide flies the tedded grain ; all in a row Shall bid his spirit blow. The hoary sen, Advancing broad, or wheeling round the field, In putrid steams, emits the living cloud
They spread their breathing harvest to the Sun, Of pestilence. Through subterranean cells, That throws refreshful round a rural smell : Where searching sunbeams scarce can find a way, Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground, Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf And drive the dusky wave along the mead, Wants not its soft inhabitants. Secure,
The russet hay-cock rises thick behind, Wiihin its winding citadel, the stone
In order gay. While, heard from dale to dale, Holds multitudes. But chief the forest-boughs, Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze, Of happy labor, love, and social glee. The downy orchard, and the melting pulp
Or rushing thence, in one diffusive baud, Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog Of evanescent insects. Where the pool
Compell’d, to where the mazy-running brook Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible, Forms a deep pool ; this bank abrupt and high, Amid the floating verdure millions stray.
And that fair spreading in a pebbled shore. Each liquid too, whether it pierces, soothes, Urg'd to the giddy brink, much is the toil, Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste,
The clamor much, of men, and boys, and dogs, With various forms abounds. Nor is the stream Ere the soft fearful people to the flood Of purest crystal, nor the lucid air,
Commit their woolly sides : and oft the swain, Though one transparent vacancy it seems, On some impatient seizing, hurls them in; Void of their unseen people. These, conceal'd Embolden'd then, nor hesitating more, By the kind art of forming Heaven, escape Fast, fast, they plunge amid the flashing wave, The grosser eye of man: for, if the worlds And panting labor to the farthest shore. In worlds inclos'd should on his senses burst, Repeated this, till deep the well-wash'd fleece From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl, Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt He would abhorrent turn; and in dead night, The trout is banish'd by the sordid stream; When silence sleeps o'er all, be stunn'd with noise. Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow
Slow move the harmless race; where, as they spread Thrice-happy he! who, on the sunless side
Sits coolly calm; while all the world without,
Emblem instructive of the virtuous man, Head above head : and, rang'd in lusty rows, Who keeps his temper'd mind serene and pure, The shepherds sit, and whet the sounding shears. And every passion aptly harmoniz'd, The housewife waits to roll her fleecy stores, Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd. With all her gay-drest maids attending round. Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery thickets, hail ! One, chief in gracious dignity enthron'd,
Ye lofty pines ! ye venerable oaks! Shines o'er the rest, the pastoral queen, and rays Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep! Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king ; Delicious is your shelter to the soul, While the glad circle round them yield their souls As to the hunted hart the sallying spring, To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. Or stream full-flowing, that his swelling sides Meantime, their joyous task goes on apace : Laves, as he floats along the herbag'd brink. Some mingling stir the melted tar, and some, Cool, through the nerves, your pleasing comfort Deep on the new-shorn vagrant's heaving side,
glides; To stamp his master's cipher ready stand ; The heart beats glad ; the fresh-expanded eye Others th' unwilling wether drag along ;
And ear resume their watch; the sinews knit; And, glorying in his might, the sturdy boy
And life shoots swift through all the lighten'd limbs Holds by the twisted horns th' indignant ram. Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along Behold where bound, and of its robe bereft, The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock, By needy man, that all-depending lord,
Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool, How meek, how patient, the mild creature lies ! Now starting to a sudden stream, and now What softness in its melancholy face,
Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain; What dumb complaining innocence appears ! A various group the herds and flocks compose, Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the knife Rural confusion! on the grassy bank of horrid slaughter that is o'er you wav'd; Some ruminating lie; while others stand No, 'tis the tender swain's well-guided shears,
Half in the flood, and, often bending, sip Who having now, to pay his annual care,
The circling surface. In the middle droops Borrow'd your fleece, to you a cumbrous load, The strong laborious ox, of honest front, Will send you bounding to your hills again. Which incompos'd he shakes; and from his sides
A simple scene! Yet hence Britannia sees The troublous insects lashes with his tail, Her solid grandeur rise : hence she commands Returning still. Amid his subjects safe, Th'exalted stores of every brighter clime, Slumbers the monarch-swain ; his careless arm The treasures of the Sun without his rage : Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd; Hence, fervent all, with culture, toil, and arts, Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fillid; Wide glows her land: her dreadful thunder hence There, listening every noise, his watchful dog. Rides o'er the waves sublime, and now, ev'n now, Light fly his slumbers, if perchance a flight Impending hangs o'er Gallia's humbled coast; of angry gad-flies fasten on the herd; Hence rules the circling deep, and awes the world. That startling scatters from the shallow brook,
'Tis raging noon; and, vertical, the Sun In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam, Darts on the head direct his sorceful rays. They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain, O’er Heaven and Earth, far as the ranging eye Through all the bright severity of noon; Can sweep, a dazzling deluge reigns; and all While, from their laboring breasts, a hollow moan From pole to pole is undistinguish'd blaze. Proceeding runs low-bellowing round the hills. In vain the sight, dejected, to the ground
Oft in this season too the horse, provok'd, Stoops for relief; thence hot-ascending steams While his big sinews full of spirits swell, And keen reflection pain. Deep to the root Trembling with vigor, in the heat of blood, of vegetation parch'd, the cleaving fields Springs the high fence; and, o'er the field effus'd, And slippery lawn an arid hue disclose,
Darts on the gloomy flood, with stedfast eye, Blast Fancy's bloom, and wither ev'n the soul. And heart estrang’d to fear: his nervous chest, Echo no more returns the cheerful sound
Luxuriant, and erect! the seat of strength! Of sharpening scythe : the mower sinking, heaps Bears down th’ opposing stream: quenchless his O'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfum'd;
thirst; And scarce a chirping grasshopper is heard He takes the river at redoubled draughts, Through the dumb mead. Distressful Nature pants. And with wide nostrils, snorting, skims the wave. The very streams look languid from afar;
Still let me pierce into the midnight depth Or, through th' unshelter'd glade, impatient seem of yonder grove, of wildest largest growth : To hurl into the covert of the grove.
That, forming high in air a woodland quire, All-conquering Heat, oh, intermit thy wrath! Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every step, And on my throbbing temples potent thus
Solemn, and slow, the shadows blacker fall, Beam not so fierce! Incessant still you flow, And all is awful listening gloom around. And still another fervent flood succeeds,
These are the haunts of Meditation, these Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh, The scenes where ancient bards th’inspiring breath, And restless turn, and look around for night; Ecstatic, felt; and, from this world retir'd, Night is far off, and hotter hours approach. Convers’d with angels and immortal forms.