Of every life, that from the dreary months
Flies confcious fouthward. Miferable they
Who, here entangled in the gathering ice,
Take their last look of the defcending fun!
While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost,
The long, long night, incumbent o'er their heads,
Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's fate *, 925
As with first prow (what have not Britons dar'd!)
He for the paffage fought, attempted since
So much in vain, and feeming to be shut
By jealous Nature with eternal bars.
In these fell regions, in Arzina caught,
And to the ftony deep his idle fhip
Immediate feal'd, he with his hapless crew,
Each full exerted at his feveral task,
Froze into ftatues; to the cordage glu'd
The failor, and the pilot to the helm.
Hard bytheseshores, where scarce his freezingstream
Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of men;
And, half enlivened by the diftant fun,
That rears and ripens man, as well as plants,
Here human nature wears its rudeft form.
Deep from the piercing season funk in caves,
Here by dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer,
They wafte the tedious gloom. Immers'd in furs
Doze the gross race: nor fprightly jeft, nor fong,
Sir Hugh Willoughby, fent by Queen Elizabeth to discover the North-eaft paffage.
Nor tenderness they know, nor aught of life 945
Beyond the kindred bears that ftalk without.
Till Morn, at length, her roses drooping all,
Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their fields,
And calls the quivered favage to the chafe.
What cannot active government perform, New-moulding Man? Wide-ftretching from thefe A people favage from remotest time, [fhores,
A huge neglected empire, one vaft Mind,
By Heaven infpir'd, from Gothic darknefs call'd,
Immortal Peter! firft of Monarchs! he
His ftubborn country tam'd, her rocks, her fens,
Her floods, her feas, her ill-fubmitting fons;
And while the fierce Barbarian he subdu'd,
To more exalted foul he rais'd the Man.
Ye Shades of ancient heroes! ye who toil'd
Thro' long fucceffive ages to build up
A labouring plan of ftate, behold at once
The wonder done! behold the matchless prince! Who left his native throne, where reign'd, till then, A mighty fhadow of unreal power;
965 Who greatly fpurn'd the flothful pomp of courts, And roaming every land, in every port His fceptre laid afide, with glorious hand Unweary'd plying the mechanic tool, Gather'd the feeds of trade, of ufeful arts, Of civil wifdom, and of martial skill.
Charg'd with the ftores of Europe home he goes!
Then cities rife amid th' illumin'd wafte;
O'er joyless deferts fmiles the rural reign;
Far-diftant flood to flood is focial join'd;
Th' aftonish'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar;
Proud navies ride on feas that never foam'd
With daring keel before, and armies ftretch
Each way their dazzling files, repreffing here
The frantic Alexander of the North,
And awing there ftern Othman's fhrinking fons.
Sloth flies the land, and Ignorance and Vice,
Of old difhonour proud: it glows around,
Taught by the Royal Hand that rous'd the whole,
One scene of arts, of arms, of rifing trade; 985.
For what his wifdom plann'd, and power enforc'd,
More potent fill, his great example fhew'd.
Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point, Blow hollow-bluftering from the South. Subdu'd, The froft refolves into a trickling thaw. Spotted the mountains fhine, loofe fleet defcends, And floods the country round. The rivers fwell, Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills, O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts, A thousand fnow-fed torrents fhoot at once, And, where they rufh, the wide-refounding-plain Is left one flimy wafte. Thofe fullen feas, That wash'd th' ungenial Pole, will reft no more Beneath the shackles of the mighty North, But, roufing all their waves, refiftless heave.
And hark! the lengthening roar continuous runs
Athwart the rifted deep; at once it bursts,
And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds.
Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charg'd,
That, tofs'd amid the floating fragments, moors 1005
Beneath the shelter of an icy ifle,
While night o'erwhelms the sea, and horror looks
More horrible. Can human force endure
The affembled mifchiefs that befiege them round?
Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness,
The roar of winds and waves, the crufh of ice,
Now ceafing, now renew'd with louder rage,
And in dire echoes bellowing round the main,
More to embroil the deep, leviathan
And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport,
Tempeft the loofened brine, while thro' the gloom,
Far from the bleak inhofpitable shore,
Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl
Of famifh'd monfters, there awaiting wrecks.
Yet Providence, that ever-waking Eye,
Looks down with pity on the feeble toil
Of mortals loft to hope, and lights them safe
Thro' all this dreary labyrinth of Fate.
'Tis done! dread Winter fpreads his lateft glooms, And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year. 1025 How dead the vegetable kingdom lies!
How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends
His defolate domain. Behold, fond Man!
See here thy pictur'd life; pass fome few years, Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength, Thy fober Autumn fading into age,
And pale concluding Winter comes at last,
And fhuts the fcene. Ah! whither now are fled
Thofe dreams of greatnefs? thofe unfolid hopes
Of happiness? those longings after fame ?
Those restless cares? thofe bufy bustling days?
Those gay-fpent,feftive nights? thofe veering thoughts,
Loft between good and ill, that shar'd thy life?
All now are vanish'd! Virtue fole furvives,
Immortal never-failing friend of Man,
His guide to happiness on high. And fee!
'Tis come, the glorious Morn! the second birth
Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears
The new-creating Word, and starts to life,
In every heightened form, from pain and death 1045
For ever free. The great eternal scheme,
Involving all, and in a perfect whole
Uniting, as the profpect wider spreads,
To Reafon's eye refin'd clears up apace.
Ye vainly Wise! ye blind Presumptuous! now, 1050
Confounded in the duft, adore that Power
And Wisdom oft' arraign'd; fee now the cause
Why unaffuming Worth in fecret liv'd,
And dy'd neglected; why the good man's share
In life was gall and bitterness of foul;
Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd
Volume I.
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