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There thro' the piny forest half absorpt,
Rough tenant of these shades, the shapeless
bear,

With dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn ;
Slow-pac'd, and sourer as the storms increase,
He makes his bed beneath th' inclement drift,
And, with stern patience, scorning weak com-
plaint,

Hardens his heart against assailing want.
Wide o'er the spacious regions of the north,
That see Bootes urge his tardy waiu,
A boisterous race, by frosty Caurus * pierc'd,
Who little pleasure know and fear no pain,
Prolific swarm. They once relum'd the flame
Of lost mankind in polish'd slavery sunk,
Drove martial horde on horde with dreadful
sweep

Resistless rushing o'er th' enfeebled south,
And gave the vanquish'd world another form.
Not such the sons of Lapland wisely they
Despise th' insensate barbarous trade of war;
They ask no more than simple Nature gives,
They love their mountains and enjoy their

storms.

No false desires, no pride-created wants,
Disturb the peaceful current of their time;
And thro' the restless ever-tortur'd maze
Of pleasure, or ambition, bid it rage.
Their rein-deer form their riches. These their
tents,

Their robes, their beds, and all their homely
wealth

Supply, their wholesome fare, and cheerful cups.
Obsequions at their call, the docile tribe

Wish'd Spring returns; and from the hazy
south,

While dim Aurora slowly moves before,
The welcome sun, just verging up at first,
By small degrees extends the swelling curve;
Fill seen at last for gay rejoicing months,
Still round and round, his spiral course he winds,
And as he yearly dips his flaming orb,
Wheels up again, and re-ascends the sky,
In that glad season, from the lakes and floods,
Where pure Niemi's fairy mountains rise,
And fring'd with roses § Tenglio rolls his

stream,

They draw the copious fry. With these, at

eve,

They cheerful loaded to their tents repair;
Where all day long, in useful cares employ'd,
Their kind unblemish'd wives the fire prepare.
Thrice happy race! by poverty secur'd
From legal plunder and rapacious power:
In whom fell interest never yet has sown
The seeds of vice: whose spotless swains ne'er
knew

Injurious deed, nor, blasted by the breath
Of faithless love, their blooming daughters woo,
Still pressing on, beyond Tornea's lake,
And Hecla flaming thro' a waste of snow,
And farthest Greenland, to the pole itself,
Where failing gradually, life at length goes out,
The Muse expands her solitary flight;
And, hovering o'er the wild stupendous scene,
Behold new seas beneath | another sky.
Thron'd in his palace of cerulian ice,
Here Winter holds his unrejoicing court;
And thro' his airy hall the loud misrule
Of driving tempest is for ever heard:
Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath :
Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost;
Moulds bis fierce hail, and treasures up his

snows;

With which he now oppresses half the globe.

Yield to the sled their necks, and whirl them. Thence winding castward to the Tartar's

swift

O'er hill and dale, heap'd into one expanse
Of marbled snow, as far as eye can sweep
With a blue crust of ice unbounded glaz'd
By dancing meteors then, that ceaseless shake
A waving blaze refracted o'er the heav'ns,
And vivid moons, and stars that keener play
With double lustre from the glossy waste,
Ev'n in the depth of Polar Night, they find
A wond'rous day: enough to light the chace,
Or guide their daring steps to Finland fairs.

The North-west wind,

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coast,

She sweeps the howling margin of the main;
Where, undissolving, from the first of time,
Snows swell on snows amazing to the sky;
And icy mountains high on mountains pil'd,
Seem to the shivering sailor from afar,
Shapeless and white, an atinosphere of clouds
Projected huge, and horrid, o'er the surge,
Alps frown on Alps; or rushing hideous down,
As if old chaos was again return'd,

Wide rend the deep, and shake the solid pole,

The wandering Scythian clans.

M. de Maupertius, in his book on the figure of the Earth, after having described the beautiful Lake and Mountain of Niemi in Lapland, says, From this height we had opportunity several times to see those vapors rise from the Lake, which the people of the country call Haltios, and which 'they deem to be guardian Spirits of the Mountains. We had been frightened with stories of bears that haunted this place, but saw none. It seemed rather a place of resort for Faries and Genii, than bears.'

§ The same author observes, I was surprised to see upon the banks of this river (the Tenglio) Roses of as lively a red as any that are in our garden

The other Hemisphere

Ocen

Ocean itself no longer can resist
The binding fury; but, in all its rage
Of tempest, taken by the boundless frost,
Is many a fathom to the bottom chain'd,
And bid to roar no more: a bleak expanse,
Shagg'd o'er with wavy rocks, cheerless, and void
Of every life, that from the dreary months
Flies conscious southward. Miserable they!
Who, here entangled in the gathering ice,
Take the last look of their descending sun;
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, As with first prow (what have not Britons dar'd!)

He for the passage sought, attempted since
So much in vain, and seeming to be shut
By jealous Nature with eternal bars.
In these fell regions, in Arzina caught,
And to the stony deep his idle ship
Immediate seal'd, he with his hapless crew,
Each full exerted at his several task,
Froze into statues: to the cordage glu'd
The sailor, and the pilot to the helm.

Hard by these shores, where scarce his freez-
ing stream

Rolls the wide Oby, live the last of Men;
And half-enliven'd by the distant sun,
That rears and ripens Man, as well as plants,
Here human Nature wears its rudest form.
Deep from the piercing season sunk in caves,
Here by dull fires, and with anjoyous cheer,
They waste the tedious gloom. Immers'd in
furs,

Doze the gross race. Nor sprighty jest, nor

song,

Nor tenderness they know; nor aught of life,
Beyond the kindred bears that stalks without.
Till morn at length her roses drooping all,
Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their
fields,

And calls the quiver'd savage to the chace,

What cannot active government perform, New-moulding man! Wide-stretching from these shores,

A people savage from remotest time,
A huge neglected empire, one vast Mind,
By Heaven inspir'd, from Gothic darkness call'd.
Immortal Peter! first of monarchs! He
His stubborn country tam'd, her rocks, her fens,
Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting sons!
And while the fierce Barbarian he subdu'd,
To more exalted soul he rais'd the Man.
Ye shades of antient heroes, ye who toil'd
'Thro' long successive ages to build up
A laboring plan of state, behold at once
The wonder done! behold the matchless prince!
Who left his native throne, where reign'd till

then

A mighty shadow of unreal power;

Who greatly spurn'd the slothful pomp of

courts,

And roaming every land, in every port,
His sceptre laid aside, with glorious hand
Unwearied plying the mechanic tool,
Gathered the seeds of trade, of useful arts,
Of civil wisdom and of martial skill,
Charg'd with the stores of Europe home he
goes!

Then cities rise amid th' illumin'd wastes;
O'er joyless desarts smiles the rural reign:
Far distant flood to flood is social join'd;
Th' astonished Euxine hears the baltic roar:
Proud navies ride on seas that never foam'd
With daring keel before; and armies stretch
Each way their dazzling files, repressing here
The frantic Alexander of the north,

And awing there stern Othman's shrinking sons.
Sloth flies the land and Ignorance, and Vice,
Of old dishonor proud: it glows around,
Taught by the Royal Hand that rous'd the
whole,

One scene of arts, of arnis, of rising trade: For what his wisdom plann'd his power en forc'd,

More potent still, his great example show'd. Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point,

Blow hollow-blustering from the south. Subdu'd,

The frost resolves into a trickling thaw.
Spotted the mountains shine; loose sleet de-

scends,

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plain

Is left one slimy waste. Those sullen seas,
That wash th' ungenial pole, will rest no more
Beneath the shackles of the mighty north,
But, rousing all their waves, resistless 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, toss'd amid the floating fragments, moors
Beneath the shelter of an icy isle,
While night o'crwhelms the sea, and horor
looks

More horrible. Can human force endure
Th' assembled mischiefs that besieg'd them
round?

Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness, The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice, Now ceasing, now renew'd with louder rage, And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. More to embroil the deep, Leviathan,

Sir Hugh Willoughby, sent by Queen Elizabeth to discover the North-East Passage.

And

And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, Tempest the loosen'd brine, while thro' the gloom,

Far from the bleak inhospitable shore,
Loading th' winds, is heard the hungry howl
Of famish'd monsters there awaiting wrecks.-
Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye,
Looks down with pity on the feeble toil
Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe,
Thro' all this dreary labyrinth of fate.

"Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms,

And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year.
How dead the vegetable kingdom lies!
Now dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends
His desolate domain. Behold, fond man!
See here thy pictur'd life! -Pass some few

years,

The storms of Wint'ry time will quickly pass, And one unbounded Spring encircle all.

§ 153. Kensington Garden. TICKELL.
Campos, ubi Troja fuit. VIRG.

WHERE Kensington high o'er the neighb'ring lands

Midst greens and sweets, a regal fabric stands,
And sees each spring luxuriant in her bowers,
A snow of blossoms, and a wild of flowers,
The dames of Britain oft in crowds repair
To groves and lawns, and unpolluted air.
Here, while the town in damps and darkness
lies,

They breathe in sunshine, and see azure skies; Thy flowering Spring-thy Summer's ardent Each walk, with robes of various dyes be

strength

Thy sober Autumn fading into age-
And pale concluding Winter comes at last,
And shuts the scene. Ah! whither now are

Aled

Those dreams of greatness? those unsolid hopes

Of happiness? those longings after fame? Those restless cares? Those busy bustling days? Those gay spent festive nights, whose veering thought,

Lost between good and ill, that shar'd thy life, All now are vanish Virtue sole survives, Immortal never-failing friend of man,

His guide to happiness on high. And see!
'Tis come, the glorious morn! the second
birth

Of heaven and earth! awakening nature hears
The new creating-world, and starts to life!
In every heightened form, from pain and
death

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In life was gall and bitterness of soul:
Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd
In starving solitude: while luxury,
In palaces lay straining her low thought
To form unreal wants: why heaven-born
truth,

And moderation fair, wore the red marks
Of superstition's scourge: why licens'd pain,
That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe,
Imbitter'd all our bliss.-Ye good distress'd!
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile,
And what your bounded view, which only saw
A liule part deem'd evil, is no more:

spread,

Seems from afar a moving tulip-bed,
Where rich brocades and glossy damasks grow,
And chints, the rival of the show'ry bow.

Here England's Daughter, darling of the land,

Sometimes, surrounded with her virgin band, Gleams through the shades. She, tow'ring o'er the rest,

Stands fairest of the fairer kind confess'd, Form'd to gain hearts, that Brunswick's cause deny'd,

And charm a people to her Father's side.
Long have these groves to royal guests been
known,

Nor Nassau first preferr'd them to a throne.
Ere Norman banners wav'd in British air;
Ere lordly Hubba with the golden hair
Pour'd in his Danes; ere elder Juhus came;
Or Dardan Brutus gave our isle a name;
A prince of Albion's lineage gracd the wood,
The scene of wars, and stain'd with lovers'
blood.

You, who through gazing crowds, your cap

tive throng,

Throw pangs and passions, as you move along,
Turn on the left, ye fair, your radiant eyes,
Where all unlevelled the gay garden lies:
If generous anguish for another's pains
E'er heav'd your hearts, or shiver'd through
your veins,

Look down attentive on the pleasing dale,
And listen to my melancholy tale.

That hollow space, where now in living rows,
Line above line the yew's sad verdure grows,
Was, ere the planter's hand its beauty gave,
A common pit, a rude unfashion'd cave ;
The landskip now so sweet you well may
praise,

But far, far sweeter in its antient days,
Far sweeter was it, when its peopled ground
With fairy domes and dazzling tow'rs was
crown'd.

Where in the midst those verdant pillars spring,
Rose the proud palace of the Elfin king;

For

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From Neptune mingling with a mortal dame, Their midnight pranks the sprightly fairies play'd

On ev'ry hill, and dane'd in every shade.
But, foes to sun-shine, most they took delight
In dells and dales conceal'd from human sight:
There hew'd their houses in the arching rock;
Or scoop'd the bosom of the blasted oak;
Or heard, o'ershadow'd by some shelving hill,
The distant murmurs of the falling rill.
They, rich in pilfer'd spoils, indulg'd their
mirth,

And pity'd the huge wretched sons of earth. Even now, 'tis said, the hinds o'erhear their strain,

And strive to view their airy forms in vain :
They to their cells at man's approach repair,
Like the shy leveret, or the mother hare,
The whilst poor mortals startle at the sound
Of unseen footsteps on the haunted ground.
. Amid this garden, then with woods o'er-

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gay,

Shone every knight and every lovely fay.

Whoe'er on Powell's dazzling stage display'd, Hath fam'd king Pepin and his court survey'd, May guess, if old by modern things we trace, The pomp and splendor of the fairy race.

By magic fenc'd, by spells encompass'd
round,

No mortal touch'd this interdicted ground;
No mortal enter'd, those alone who came
Stolen from the couch of some terrestrial dame:
For oft of babes they robb'd the matron's bed,
And left some sickly changeling in their stead.
It chanc'd a youth of Albion's royal blood
Was foster'd here, the wonder of the wood;
Milkah, for wiles above her peers renown'd,
Deep-skill'd in charms and many a mystic
sound,

As through the regal dome she sought for prey,
Observ'd the infant Albion where he lay
In mantles broider'd o'er with gorgeous pride,
And stole him from the sleeping mother's side.
Who now but Milkah triumphs in her mind?
Ah wretched nymph, to future evils blind!

The time shall come when thou shalt dearly pay

The theft, hard-hearted! of that guilty day:
Thou in thy turn shalt like the queen repine,
And all her sorrows doubled shall be thine:
He who adorns thy house, the lovely boy
Who now adorns it, shall at length destroy.
Two hundred moons in their pale course had

seen

The gay rob'd fairies glimmer on the green, And Albion now had reach'd in youthful prime

To nineteen years, as mortals measure time.
Flush'd with resistless charms he fir'd to love
Each nymph and little Dryad of the grove;
For skilful Milkah spar'd not to employ
Her utmost art to rear the princely boy:
Each supple limb she swath'd, and tender bone,
And to the Elfin standard kept him down :
She robb'd dwarf-elders of their fragrant fruit,
And fed him early with the daisy's root,
Whence through his veins the powerful juices

ran,

And form'd in beauteous miniature the Man.
Yet still, two inches taller than the rest,
His lofty port his human birth confess'd;
A foot in height, how stately did he show!
How look superior on the crowd below!
What knight like him could toss the rushy
lance!

Who move so graceful in the mazy dance!
A shape so nice, or features half so fair,
What elf could boast! or such a flow of hair!
Bright Kenna saw, a princess born to reign,
And felt the charmer burn in every vein.
She, heiress to this empire's potent lord,
Prais'd like the stars, and next the moon
ador'd

She, whom at distance thrones and princedoms view'd,

To whom proud Oriel and Azuriel su'd,'
In her higli palace languish'd, void of joy,
And pin'd in secret for a mortal boy.

He too was smitten, aud discreetly strove,
By courtly deeds to gain the virgin's love;
For her he cull'd the fairest flowers that grew,
Ere morning suns had drain'd their fragrant

dew;

He chas'd the hornet in his mid-day fight, And brought her glow-worms in the noon of night;

When on ripe fruit she cast a wishing eye,
Did ever Albion think the tree too high?
He show'd her where the pregnant goldfinch
hung,

And the wren-mother brooding o'er her young;
To her th' incription on their eggs he read,
(Admire, ye clerks, the youth whom Milkah
bred!)

To her he show'd each herb of virtuous juice, Their powers distinguish'd, and describ'd their

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As when a ghost, enlarg'd from realms By all the stars, and first the glorious

below,

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In words so melting, that, compar'd with those,

The nicest courtship of terrestrial beaus Would sound like compliments from countryclowns

To red-cheek sweethearts in their home-spun gowns.

All in a lawn of many a various hue, A bed of flowers (a fairy forest) grew; 'Twas here one noon, the gaudiest of the May, The still, the secret, silent hour of day, Beneath a lofty tulip's ample shade Sate the young lover and th' immortal maid. They thought all fairies slept; ah luckless pair! Hid, but in vain, in the sun's noon-tide glare! When Albion leaning on his Kenna's breast, Thus all the softness of his soul express'd.

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All things are hush'd. The sun's meridian

ravs

"Veil the horizon in one mighty blaze;

6 moon,

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She ended: and with lips of rosy hue Dipt five times over in ambrosial dew, Stifled his words. When, from his covert rear'd,

The frowning brow of Oberon appear'd.
A sun-flower's trunk was near, whence (killing
sight!)

The monarch isɛu'd, half an ell in height:
Full on the pair a furious look he cast,
Nor spoke, but gave his bugle-horn a blast,
That through the woodland echo'd far and
wide,

And drew a swarm of subjects to his side.

'Nor moon nor star in heav'n's blue arch is A hundred chosen knights, in war renown'd,

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Jawns,

When the sky opens and the evening dawns! Straight as the pink, that tow'rs so high in air,

Soft as the blue-bell! as the daisy, fair!
Blest be the hour, when first I was convey'd
An infant captive to this blissful shade!
And bless'd the hand that did my form refine,
And shrunk my stature to a match with
'thine!

Glad I for thee renounce my royal birth,
And all the giant-daughters of the earth.
Thou, if thy breast with equal ardor burn,
Renounce thy kind, and love for love re-

torn.

So from us two, combin'd by nuptial ties, A race unknown of demi-gods shall rise. Oh speak my love, my vows with vows repay, And sweetly swear my rising fears away!' To whom (the shining azure of her eyes More brighten'd) thus the enamour'd maid rephics.

Drive Albion banish'd from the sacred ground;
And twice ten myriads guard the bright abodes,
Where the proud king, among his demi gods,
For Kenna's sudden bridal bids prepare,
And to Azuriel gives the weeping fair.

If fame in arms, with antient birth combin'd,

And faultless beauty, and a spotless mind,
To love and praise can generous souls incline, .
That love, Azuriel, and that praise were thine.
Blood, only less than royal, fill'd thy veins,
Proud was thy roof, and large thy fair domains.
Where now the skies high Holland-house in-
vades,

And short-liv'd Warwick sudden'd all the shades,

Thy dwelling stood; nor did in him afford
A noble owner, or a lovelier lord.

For thee an hundred fields produc'd their store,
And by that name ten thousand vassals swore;
So lov'd thy name, that, at their monarch's
choice

All Fairy shouted with a gen'ral voice.

Oriel alone a secret rage suppress'd That from his bosom heav'd the golden vest. Along the banks of Thame his empire ran, Wide was his range, and populous his clan. When cleanly servants, if we trust old tales, Besides their wages, had good fairy v úls,

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