"Till break of morning, to this old wife's tale "Of days of yore, and Uffa's pious reign?
"Go drawl your maxims round the wintery hearth "To slavering grey-beards, trembling, like yourself, "On Hela's brink: the misty home of such "As die of stale garrulity. For us
"We pause no longer o'er the stagnant bowl, "Slumber who may. But, be it known to all,
"We are no triflers. Redŏwald's voice has fixt 1070 "The second sun that the next dawn ensues.
"For final answer. We expect it then;
"Or thundering war shall claim it in these walls "And chase your factious Gemots.'
With slight observance to the royal chair,
He left the hall, indignant, with his peer
Ferocious Ossa. Then, with gloomy brow,
(Brooding dark thoughts, that the protruded lip
Close rigid, and the self-communing eye
Sink in the socket rayless!) striding slow,
Beornulph pursues. Intent he seem'd, and big
With secret purpose, that his labouring breast
Heav'd, as for vent; and, by attraction drawn
Of soul congenial, thro the aisle, he thrids
Their steps with equal pace: as thro the air, 1085
Noxious with lazy mists, the impregnant cloud;
O'ercharg'd with sulphurous fluid, slowly sails,
Darkening mid heaven; then on some gloomy mass,
Latent with like combustion, crashing bursts,
With dire explosion:-direful to the swain
Struck in the hideous contact.
Oswald and Egbert, and the minion crew
Throng anxious: for the Gemot's threaten'd call
Rang ominous in their ears; lest, not alone
Balk'd in their present purpose, the strong light 1095
Of popular discussion might reveal
Their practic'd treasons; and avenging wrath,
Tho tardy, fall on long-protected crimes.
And thou hast chang'd thy hue, companion staid
Of forty varying years; thy darkest brown
Shifting to silvery whiteness. Be it so:
It is not the first time that I have met
An old acquaintance with an alter'd face;
And 'twill again betide me: or the wheel
Of ever giddy Fortune must forego
Her old propension, and no more invert
My oft deluded hopes. But, of thy kind,
Not Fortune's steadiest favours, nor her hate,
Can stay the destin'd course. Mute monitor!
Thou art, indeed, but as the harbinger
Of many ǎ change approaching; that shall soon,
To all thy numerous tribe impart thy hue:
Dapplĕing, at first, with many ǎ wintery spot,
Till all is equal snow.
Well! my firm mind,
ǎ less expected change hath borne,
That many
Can bear that, also.
Hověring Winter, hail!—
Hail to the wrinkled front and hoary brow!
Not from thy reverend aspect do I shrink,
Season of waning life! if that thy snows,
Incrusting all without, leave yet within
The genial warmth of friendship;-if thou bring
(So winter should) the calm and social joys
Of dear affiance, and communion sweet
With few congenial minds; and not withhold
Quiet and competence, respect and love
And literary leisure:-if, o'er all,
Thou not refuse to them-my infant buds-
(The hope and promise of a future spring!)
Kindly protection from the ruffian blasts
Might mar their tender germs.
Ere dull inaction freeze the torpid vein,
Or numbing languor cramp the vital powers
Of sedulous effort,-Give me, yet, to rear
The sheltering fence of competence, to guard
These from the blight; and I will not repine
That Nature's wheel revolves; I will not mourn
My spring of storms, my summer overcast,
Or toils autumnal, that the wayward year
Strive to repair; but the last wintěry hour
Accept as Nature's boon: and even then,-
When thy dim twilight, o'er the studious eye
Steals darkling, and the tottering step forgoes
The pride of wonted firmness, will I bend
My unrepining weight;—if haply propt
Upon the matron arm of her, belov'd!-
My faithful stay thro every woe of life !—
Or on the filial shoulder, rest, awhile,
My waning strength, that each successive day.
Counts by some new privation; till, at length,
(Each function and each duty all fulfill'd)
Pleas'd with the thought—I have not liv'd in vain,
I lay me down; and, on the quiet couch
Of unreproving conscience pillowing me,
Welcome my doom; and, smiling, sink to rest.
J. M'CREERY, Printer,
Black-Horse-Court, Fleet-Street, London.
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