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Mysterious round! what skill, what | Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings force divine,

fall. Deep felt, in these appea

ppear! a simple train, Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, Yet so delightful mixed, with such kind and flowers, art,

In mingled clouds to him, whose sun Snch beauty and beneficence combined; exalts, Shade, unperceived, so softening into Whose breath perfumes you, and whose shade;

pencil paints. And all so forming an harmonious whole; Ye forests bend, ye harvests wave, to That, as they still succeed, they ravish

him ; still.

Breathe your still song into the reaper's But wandering oft, with brute uncon. heart,

As home he goes beneath the joyous Man marks not thee, marks not the mighty hand,

Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth That, ever busy, wheels the silent asleep spheres;

Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest Works in the secret deep; shoots, steam beams, ing, thence

Ye constellations, while your angels The fair profusion that o'erspreads the strike, spring;

Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Flings from the sun direct the flaming Great source of day! best image here day;

below Feeds every creature; hurls the tempests of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, forth;

From world to world, the vital ocean And, as on earth this grateful change round, revolves,

On Nature write with every beam his With transport touches all the springs praise. of life.

The thunder rolls: be hushed the pros. Nature, attend ! join every living soul, trate world; Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, While cloud to cloud returns the solemn In adoration join; and, ardent, raise

hymn. One general song! To him, ye vocal Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy gales,

rocks, Breathe soft, whose spirit in your fresh Retain the sound; the broad responsive ness breathes :

low, 0, talk of him in solitary glooms; Ye valleys, raise ; for the great ShepWhere, o'er the rock, the scarcely wav. herd reigns, ing pine

And his unsuffering kingdom yet will Fills the brown shade with a religious awe!

Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar, song Who shake the astonished world, lift Burst from the groves; and when the high to heaven

restless day, The impetuous song, and say from whom Expiring, lays the warbling world aslevp, you rage.

Sweetest of birds ! Sweet Philomela, His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trem

charm bling rills;

The listening shades, and teach the night And let me catch it as I muse along.

his praise. Ye hea llong torrents, rapid and pro- Ye chief, for whom the whole creation found;

smiles, Ye softer Hoods, that lead the humid At once the head, the heart, and tongue

of all, Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, Crown the great hymn! in swarming A speret world of wonders in thyself,

cities vast, Sound his stupendous praise, whose Assembledd men to the deep organ greater voice





thest verge

The long-resounding voice, oft breaking

JOHN DYER. clear, At solemn pauses, through the swelling

(1700- 1758.) And, as each mingling flame increases

GRONGAR HILL. each, In one united ardor rise to heaven. Silent nymph, with curious eye! Or if you rather choose the rural shade, Who, the purple eve, dost lie And find a fane in every sacred grove, On the mountain's lonely van, There let the shepherd's flute, the vir- Beyond the noise of busy man, gin's lay,

Painting fair the form of things, The prompting seraph, and the poet's While the yellow linnet sings, lyre,

Or the tuneful nightingale Still sing the God of seasons, as they Charms the forest with her tale, roll.

Come, with all thy various hues, For me, when I forget the darling Come and aid thy sister Muse. theme,

Now, while Phæbus, riding high, Whether the blossom blows, the summer | Gives lustre to the land and sky, ray

Grongar Hill invites my song, Russets the plain, inspiring autumn Draw the landscape bright and strong; gleams,

Grongar, in whose mossy cells Or winter rises in the blackening east, Sweetly musing Quiet dwells; Be my tongue mute, ny fancy paint no Grongar, in whose silent shade, inore,

For the modest Muses made, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to So oft I have, the evening still, beat!

At the fountain of a rill, Shoull fate command me to the far- Sat upon a flowery bed,

With my hand beneath my head, Of the green earth, to distant barbarous While strayed my eyes o'er Towy's climes,

food, Rivers unknown to song, - where first Over mead and over wood, the siin

From house to house, from hill to hill, Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting Till Contemplation had her till. beam

About his checkered sides I wind, Flames on the Atlantic isles, - 't is And leave his brooks and meads be. naught to me :

hind, Since God is ever present, ever felt, And groves and grottos where I lay, In the void waste, as in the city full; And vistas shooting beams of day. And where he vital breathes, there must Wide and wider spreads the vale, be joy:

As circles on a smooth canal. When even at last the solemn hour shall | The mountains round, unhappy fate!

Sooner or later, of all height, And wing my mystic flight to future Withdraw their summits froin the skies, worlds,

And lessen as the others rise.
I cheerful will obey; there, with new Still the prospect wider spreads,

Adds a thousand woods and meads;
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go Still it widers, widens still,
Where Universal Love not smiles around, And sinks the newly risen hill.
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their Now I gain the mountain's brow;

What a landscape lies below!
From seeming evil still educing good, No clouds, no vapors intervene;
And better thence again, and better But the gay, the open scene

Does the face of Nature show,
In infinite progression. But I lose In all the hues of heaven's bow !
Myself in him, in light ineffable ! And, swelling to embrace the light,
Come then, expressive Silence, muse his Spreads around beneath the sight.

Old castles on the cliffs arise,



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Proudly towering in the skies ;

When will the landscape tire the view ! Rushing from the woods, the spires The fountain's fall, the river's flow; Seem from hence ascending fires; The woody valleys, warm and low; Half his beams Apollo sheds

The windy summit, wild and high, On the vellow mountain-heads,

Roughly rushing on the sky; Gilds the fleeces of the flocks,

The pleasant seat, the ruined tower, And glitters on the broken rocks. The naked rock, the shady bower;

Below me trees unnumbered rise, The town and village, dome and farm,Beautiful in various dyes :

Each gives each a double charm, The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm. The yellow beech, the sable yew,

See on the mountain's southern side, The slender fir that taper grows,

Where the prospect opens wide, The sturdy oak with broad-spread Where the evening gilds the tide ; boughs;

How close and small the hedges lie! And beyond the purple grove,

What streaks of meadow

cross the Haunt of Phyllis, queen of love!

eye! Gaudy as the opening dawn,

A step methinks may pass the stream, Lies å long and level lawn,

So little distant dangers seem; On which a dark hill, steep and high, So we mistake the Future's face, Holds and charms the wandering eye. Eyed through Hope's deluding glass; Deep are his feet in Towy's flood : As yon summits, soft and fair, His sides are clothed with waving Clad in colors of the air, wood,

Which to those who journey near,
And ancient towers crown his brow, Barren, brown, and rough appear;
That cast an awful look below;

Still we tread the same coarse way,
Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps, The present 's still a cloudy day.
And with her arms from falling keeps; 0, may I with myself agree,
So both a safety from the wind

And never covet what I see;
In mutual dependence find.

Content me with an humble shade, "T is now the raven's bleak abode; My passions tamed, my wishes laid; "T is now the apartment of the toad; For while our wishes wildly roll, And there the fox securely feeds; We banish quiet from the soul: And there the poisonous adder breeds, 'T is thus the busy beat the air, Concealed in ruins, moss, and weeds; And misers gather wealth and care. While, ever and anon, there fall

Now, even now, my joys run high, Huge heaps of hoary mouldered wall. As on the mountain-turf I lie; Yet Time has seen, that lifts the low While the wanton Zephyr sings, And level lays the lofty brow,

And in the vale perfumes his wings; Has seen this broken pile complete, While the waters murmur deep; Big with the vanity of state.

While the shepherd charms his sheep; But transient is the smile of Fate! While the birds unbounded tly, A little rule, a little sway,

And with music fill the sky, A sunbeam in a winter's day,

Now, even now, my joys run high. Is all the proud and mighty have

Be full, ye courts; be great who Between the crule and the grave.

will; And see the rivers how they run, Search for Peace with all your skill : Through woods and meads, in shade and Open wide the lofty door, sun,

Seek her on the marble floor. Soinetimes swist, sometimes slow, In vain you search; she is not there! Wave succeeding wave, they go In vain you search the domes of Care ! A various journey to the deep,

Grass and flowers Quiet treads,
Like huinan life to endless sleep! On the meads and mountain-heads,
Thus is Nature's vesture wrought, Along with Pleasure, close allied,
To instruct our wandering thought: Ever by each other's side;
Thus she dresses green and gay,

And often, by the murmuring rill,
To disperse our cares away.

Hears the thrush, while all is still Ever charming, ever new,

Within the groves of Grongar Hill.

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