From the dark caverns of the blustering god, 155 They burst away, and sweep the dewy lawn. Hope gives them wings, while she's spurred on by fear. The welkin rings, men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods, In the full concert join. Now, my brave youths, Stripped for the chase, give all your souls to joy! 160 See how their coursers, than the mountain roe More fleet, the verdant carpet skim, thick cloud Snorting they breathe, their shining hoofs scarce print The grass unbruised; with emulation fired They strain to lead the field, top the barred gate, 165 O'er the deep ditch exulting bound, and brush The thorny-twining hedge: the riders bend O'er their arched necks; with steady hands, by turns Indulge their speed, or moderate their rage. Where are their sorrows, disappointments, wrongs, 170 Vexations, sickness, cares? All, all are gone, And with the panting winds lag far behind. ROBERT BLAIR FROM THE GRAVE WHILE Some affect the sun, and some the shade, The keys of Hell and Death. The Grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled 5 ΙΟ Shakes off her wonted firmness. Ah! how dark Thy long-extended realms, and rueful wastes! night, Dark as was chaos, ere the infant Sun Was rolled together, or had tried his beams Athwart the gloom profound. The sickly taper, By glimmering through thy low-browed misty vaults, (Furred round with mouldy damps, and ropy slime,) Lets fall a supernumerary horror, 15 20 And only serves to make thy night more irksome. See yonder hallowed fane; - the pious work The wind is up: - Hark! how it howls! - Methinks, Doors creak, and windows clap, and night's foul bird, 35 Rooked in the spire, screams loud; the gloomy aisles Black plastered, and hung round with shreds of 'scutcheons, And tattered coats of arms, send back the sound, Laden with heavier airs, from the low vaults, The mansions of the dead. - Roused from their slumbers, 40 In grim array the grisly spectres rise, Grin horrible, and, obstinately sullen, Pass and repass, hushed as the foot of night. (Coeval near with that) all ragged show, Long lashed by the rude winds. Some rift half down Their branchless trunks; others so thin at top, That scarce two crows can lodge in the same tree. Strange things, the neighbours say, have happened here; Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs; Oft in the lone churchyard at night I've seen, By glimpse of moonshine chequering through the trees, 50 55 60 65 Who gather round and wonder at the tale Of horrid apparition tall and ghastly, That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand O'er some new-opened grave; and, strange to tell! 70 * 85 Insidious Grave! - how dost thou rend in sunder Whom love has knit, and sympathy made one? A tie more stubborn far than Nature's band. Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul, Sweetner of life, and solder of society, 90 I owe thee much. Thou hast deserved from me, Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. Oft have I proved the labours of thy love, And the warm efforts of the gentle heart, Anxious to please. Oh! when my friend and I 100 Sweet murmuring; methought the shrill-tongued thrush Of dress - Oh! then the longest summer's day Too exquisite to last. Of joys departed, 110 Not to return, how painful the remembrance! Dull Grave!-thou spoilest the dance of youthful blood, |