Tempest the loosen'd Brine; while, thro' the Gloom,
Far, from the dire, unhospitable Shore,

The Lyon's Rage, the Wolf's sad Howl is heard,
And all the fell Society of Night.

355 Yet, Providence, that ever-waking Eye

Looks down, with Pity, on the fruitless Toil

Of Mortals, lost to Hope, and lights them safe,

Thro' all this dreary Labyrinth of Fate.

"Tis done! Dread Winter has subdu'd the Year, B417 C737 E1024

360 And reigns, tremendous, o'er the desart Plains!

How dead the Vegetable Kingdom lies!

How dumb the Tuneful!

Horror wide extends

Now, fond Man!

Behold thy pictur'd Life: Pass some few Years,

365 Thy flow'ring Spring, Thy short-liv'd Summer's Strength,

Thy sober Autumn, fading into Age,

And pale, concluding, Winter shuts thy Scene,
And shrouds Thee in the Grave

where now, are fled

Those Dreams of Greatness? those unsolid Hopes

370 Of Happiness? those Longings, after Fame?

Those restless Cares? those busy, bustling Days?
Those Nights of secret Guilt? those veering Thoughts,
Flutt'ring 'twixt Good, and Ill, that shar'd thy Life?
All, now, are vanish'd! Vertue, sole, survives,

375 Immortal, Mankind's never-failing Friend,
His Guide to Happiness on high

and see!

'Tis come, the Glorious Morn! the second Birth
Of Heaven, and Earth! - awakening Nature hears
Th' Almighty Trumpet's Voice, and starts to Life,
380 Renew'd, unfading. Now, th' Eternal Scheme,
That Dark Perplexity, that Mystic Maze,

Which Sight cou'd never trace, nor Heart conceive,
To Reason's Eye, refin'd, clears up apace.

B. 353, 354 At once, is heard, th'united, hungry, Howl, || Of all the fell etc.

Angels, and Men, astonish'd, pause and dread 385 To travel thro' the Depths of Providence,

Untry'd, unbounded. Ye vain Learned! see, And, prostrate in the Dust, adore that Power, And Goodness, oft arraign'd. See now the Cause, Why conscious Worth, oppress'd, in secret long 390 Mourn'd, unregarded: Why the Good Man's Share 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 prompting her low Thought, 395 To form unreal Wants: why Heaven-born Faith, And Charity, prime Grace! wore the red Marks Of Persecution's Scourge: Why licens'd Pain, That cruel Spoiler, that embosom'd Foe, Imbitter'd all our Bliss. Ye Good Distrest! 400 Ye Noble Few! that, here, unbending, stand Beneath Life's Pressures... yet a little while, And all your Woes are past. Time swiftly fleets, And wish'd Eternity, approaching, brings Life undecaying, Love without Allay,

405 Pure flowing Joy, and Happiness sincere.

Text (C)

= ed. 1730, 4to.

The variations from B are indicated by means of italics. D ed. 1730, 8vo. The MS. notes were made on

=

the latter text.

SEE Winter comes, to rule the varied year,
Sullen, and sad, with all his rising train,

Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be these my theme.
These, that exalt the soul to solemn thought,

5 And heavenly musing.

Welcome, kindred glooms!

With frequent foot,

Cogenial horrors, hail!

Pleas'd have I, in my chearful morn of life,
When nurs'd by careless Solitude I liv'd,
And sung of Nature with unceasing joy,

10 Pleas'd have I wander'd thro' your rough domain;
Trod the pure virgin-snows, my self as pure;
Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burst;
Or seen the deep, fermenting tempest brew'd
In the red evening-sky. Thus pass'd the time,
Till thro' the lucid chambers of the south

15

Look'd out the joyous Spring, look'd out, and smil'd.

To thee, the patron of her first essay,
The muse, O Wilmington! renews her song.
Since has she rounded the revolving Year:
20 Skim'd the gay Spring; on eagle-pinions borne,
Attempted thro' the Summer-blaze to rise;

MS 14 red pale T

WINTER.

ed. 1744. (Variations from D in italics.) F = ed. 1746. numbering of the lines in E and F is the same.

E, Winter comes, to rule the vary'd Year, and sad, with all his rising Train;

, and Clouds, and Storms.

Be these my Theme, hat exalt the Soul to solemn Thought, venly Musing. Welcome, kindred Glooms! Horrors, hail! with frequent Foot, have I, in my chearful Morn of Life, urs'd by careless Solitude I liv'd,

ng of Nature with unceasing Joy,
have I wander'd thro' your rough Domain;
e pure Virgin-Snows, myself as pure;
he Winds roar, and the big Torrent burst;
the deep fermenting Tempest brew'd,
prim Evening-Sky. Thus pass'd the Time,
'the lucid Chambers of the South

out the joyous Spring, look'd out, and smil❜d.

Thee, the Patron of her first Essay,
se, O Wilmington! renews her Song.
as she rounded the revolving Year:
the gay Spring; on Eagle-Pinions borne,
ed thro' the Summer-Blaze to rise;