WINT E R.

SEE, WINTER comes, to rule the varied year,

Sullen and fad, with all his rifing train;

Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be thefe my theme,
Thefe that exalt the foul to folemn thought,
And heavenly mufing. Welcome, kindred glooms!
Congenial horrors, hail! with frequent foot,
Pleas'd have I, in my cheerful morn of life,
When nurs'd by careless folitude I liv❜d,
And fang of Nature with unceasing joy,
Pleas'd have I wander'd thro' your rough domain;
;
Trod the pure virgin-fnows, myself as pure ;
Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burst;
Or feen the deep-fermenting tempeft brew'd,
In the grim evening fky. Thus pafs'd the time,
Till thro' the lucid chambers of the fouth

Look'd out the joyous SPRING, look'd out, and fmil'd.

To thee, the patron of her first essay,
The Mufe, O WILMINGTON! renews her fong.
Since has she rounded the revolving year:
Skimm'd the gay Spring; on eagle-pinions borne,
Attempted thro' the Summer-blaze to rife;
Then fwept o'er Autumn with a fhadowy gale;
And now among the wintry clouds again,
Roll'd in the doubling ftorm, she tries to foar;
To fwell her note with all the rushing winds;
To fuit her founding cadence to the floods;
As is her theme, her numbers wildly great:
Thrice happy! could fhe fill thy judging ear
With bold defcription, and with manly thought.
Nor art thou skill'd in awful schemes alone,
And how to make a mighty people thrive;
But equal goodness, found integrity,

A firm, unshaken, uncorrupted foul
Amid a fliding age, and burning ftrong,
Not vainly blazing for thy country's weal,
A steady spirit regularly free;

These, each exalting each, the statesman light
Into the patriot; thefe, the public hope
And eye to thee converting, bid the Mufe
Record what envy dares not flattery call.

Now when the cheerless empire of the sky To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields, And fierce Aquarius ftains th' inverted year; Hung o'er the fartheft verge of heaven, the fun Scarce fpreads thro' ether the dejected day. Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot His ftruggling rays, in horizontal lines, Thro' the thick air; as cloth'd in cloudy storm, Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky; And, foon-defcending, to the long dark night, Wide-fhading all, the proftrate world refigns. Nor is the night unwifh'd; while vital heat, Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forfake. Meantime, in fable cincture, fhadows vast, Deep-ting'd and damp, and congregated clouds, And all the vapoury turbulence of heaven, Involve the face of things. Thus Winter falls, A heavy gloom oppreffive o'er the world, Thro' Nature fhedding influence malign, And roufes up the feeds of dark disease. The foul of man dies in him, loathing life, And black with more than melancholy views. The cattle droop; and o'er the furrowed land, Fresh from the plough, the dun-difcoloured flocks, Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root.

Along the woods, along the moorish fens,
Sighs the fad Genius of the coming ftorm;
And up among the loofe disjointed cliffs,
And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawling brook
And cave, presageful, send a hollow nioan,
Refounding long in liftening Fancy's ear.

Then comes the father of the tempest forth,
Wrapt in black glooms. Firft, joyless rains obfcure
Drive thro' the mingling fkies with vapour foul;
Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the woods,
That grumbling wave below. The unfightly plain
Lies a brown deluge; as the low-bent clouds
Pour flood on flood, yet unexhausted still
Combine, and deepening into night shut up
The day's fair face. The wanderers of heaven,
Each to his home, retire; fave those that love
To take their pastime in the troubled air,
Or fkimming flutter round the dimply pool.
The cattle from the untafted fields return,
And afk, with meaning lowe, their wonted ftalls,
Or ruminate in the contiguous fhade.

Thither the houfhold feathery people crowd,
The crefted cock, with all his female train,
Penfive, and dripping; while the cottage-hind
Hangs o'er th' enlivening blaze, and taleful there