From the rude mountain and the moffy wild,
Tumbling thro' rocks abrupt, and founding far,
Then o'er the fanded valley floating spreads,
Calm, fluggish, filent; till, again constrain'd
Between two meeting hills, it bursts a way,
Where rocks and woods o'erhang the turbid ftream;
There gathering triple force, rapid and deep,
It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders thro'.
Nature! great parent! whofe unceasing hand 106
Rolls round the Seasons of the changeful year,
How mighty, how majeftic, are thy works!
With what a pleafing dread they fwell the foul!
That fees astonish'd, and astonish'd fings.
Ye too, ye Winds! that now begin to blow
With boisterous fweep, I raise my voice to you.
Where are your stores, ye powerful Beings! fay,
Where your aërial magazines referv'd,
To fwell the brooding terrors of the ftorm?
In what far-diftant region of the sky,
Hufh'd in deep filence, fleep ye when 'tis calm ?
When from the pallid fky the fun defcends,
With many a spot, that o'er his glaring orb
Uncertain wanders, ftain'd, red fiery ftreaks. 120
Begin to flush around. The reeling clouds
Stagger with dizzy poife, as doubting yet
Which mafter to obey: while rifing flow,
Blank, in the leaden-colour'd Eaft, the moon
Wears a wan circle round her blunted horns. 125
Seen thro' the turbid fluctuating air,
The ftars obtufe emit a fhivered ray,
Or frequent feem to shoot athwart the gloom,
And long behind them trail, the whitening blaze.
Snatch'd in fhort eddies plays the withered leaf, 180
And on the flood, the dancing feather floats.
With broadened noftrils, to the sky up-turn'd,
The conscious heifer fnuffs the ftormy gale.
Even as the matron, at her nightly task,
With penfive labour draws the flaxen thread, 135
The wafted taper and the crackling flame
Foretel the blast. But chief the plumy race,
The tenants of the sky, its changes fpeak.
Retiring from the downs, where all day long
They pick'd their scanty fare, a blackening train 140
Of clamorous rooks, thick urge their weary flight,
And feek the clofing fhelter of the grove.
Affiduous, in his bower, the wailing owl
Plies his fad fong. The cormorant on high
Wheels from the deep, and screams along the land. 145
Loud fhrieks the foaring hern: and with wild wing
The circling feafowl cleave the flaky clouds.
Ocean, unequal prefs'd, with broken tide
And blind commotion heaves, while from the fhore,
Ate into caverns by the reftlefs wave,
And foreft-rustling mountains, comes a voice That, folemn founding, bids the world prepare. Then iflues forth the ftorm with fudden burst,
And hurls the whole precipitated air
Down in a torrent. On the passive main
Defcends th' ethereal force, and with ftrong gust
Turns from its bottom the discoloured deep.
Thro' the black night, that fits immenfe around,
Lash'd into foam, the fierce conflicting brine
Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn:
Mean time the mountain-billows, to the clouds
In dreadful tumult fwell'd, furge above furge,
Burst into chaos with tremendous roar,
And anchored navies from their stations drive,
Wild as the winds, across the howling wafte
Of mighty waters: now th' inflated wave
Straining they fcale, and now impetuous shoot
Into the secret chambers of the deep,
The wintry Baltic thundering o'er their head:
Emerging thence again, before the breath
Of full-exerted heaven they wing their courfe,
And dart on diftant coafts, if fome fharp rock,
Or fhoal infidious, break not their career,
And in loofe fragments fling them floating round.
Nor lefs at land the loofened tempeft reigns: 175
The mountain thunders, and its sturdy fons
Stoop to the bottom of the rocks they shade.
Lone on the midnight steep, and all aghaft,
The dark way-faring ftranger breathlefs toils,
And, often falling, climbs against the blast.
Low waves the rooted foreft, vex'd, and fheds
What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain,
Dafh'd down and fcattered by the tearing wind's
Affiduous fury its gigantic limbs.
Thus ftruggling thro' the diffipated grove
The whirling tempest raves along the plain,
And on the cottage thatch'd, or lordly roof,
Keen-faftening, shakes them to the folid bafe.
Sleep frighted flies, and round the rocking dome,
For entrance eager, howls the favage blast.
199
Then too, they fay, thro' all the burthened air
Long groans are heard, fhrill founds, and distant sighs,
That, uttered by the demon of the night,
Warn the devoted wretch of woe and death.
Huge Uproar lords it wide. The clouds, commix'd With ftars fwift gliding, fweep along the sky. 196 All Nature reels: till Nature's King, who oft' Amid tempeftuous darkness dwells alone, And on the wings of the careering wind Walks dreadfully ferene, commands a calm; Then ftraight air, fea, and earth, are hush'd at once. As yet 'tis midnight deep. The weary clouds, Slow-meeting, mingle into falid gloom. Now while the drowfy world lies loft in fleep, Let me affociate with the ferious Night, And Contemplation her fedate compeer; Let me shake off th' intrusive cares of day, And lay the meddling fenfes all aside. Where now, ye lying Vanities of life!
Ye ever-tempting ever-cheating Train!
Where are you now? and what is your amount?
Vexation, difappointment, and remorse.
Sad, fickening thought! and yet deluded Man,
A fcene of crude disjointed visions past,
And broken flumbers, rifes ftill resolv'd,
With new-flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round.
Father of Light and Life! thou Good Supreme!
O teach me what is good! teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low purfuit! and feed my foul
With knowledge, confcious peace, and virtue pure;
Sacred, fubftantial, never-fading blifs!
The keener tempefts rise; and fuming dun From all the livid Eaft, or piercing North, Thick clouds afcend, in whofe capacious womb 225 A vapoury deluge lies, to fnow congeal'd, Heavy they roll their fleecy world along, And the sky faddens with the gathered ftorm. Thro' the hush'd air the whitening fhower defcends, At first thin wavering, till at last the flakes Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day With a continual flow. The cherished fields. Put on their winter-robe of pureft white: 'Tis brightness all, fave where the new snow melts Along the mazy current. Low the woods Bow their hoar head; and, ere the languid, fun Faint from the Weft emits his evening ray,,
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