Thy fober Autumn fading into age,
And pale concluding Winter comes at last,
And fhuts the fcene. Ah! whither now are fled,
Those dreams of greatness thofe unfolid hopes
Of happiness? thofe longings after fame?
Thofe reftlefs cares? thofe bufy bustling days?
Thofe gay-spent, feftive nights? thofe veering thoughts,
Loft between good and ill, that fhar'd thy life?
All now are vanifh'd! Virtue fole furvives,
Immortal never-failing friend of man,
His guide to happinefs on high. And fee!
'Tis come, the glorious morn! the fecond birth
Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears
The new-creating word, and starts to life,
In every heighten'd form, from pain and death
For ever free. The great eternal scheme,
Involving all, and in a perfect whole
Uniting, as the profpect wider fpreads,
To reafon's eye refin'd clears up apace.
Ye vainly wife! ye blind prefumptuous! now,
Confounded in the duft, adore that Power,
And Wisdom oft arraign'd: fee now the cause,
Why unaffuming worth in fecret liv'd,
And dy'd, neglected: why the good man's fhare
In life was gall and bitterness of foul:
Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd
In ftarving folitude; while luxury,
In palaces, lay ftraining her low thought,
To form unreal wants: why heaven-born Truth,
And Moderation fair, wore the red marks
Of Superftition's fcourge: why licens'd Pain,
That cruel spoiler, that embofom'd foe,
Imbitter'd all our blifs. Ye good distrest!
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Beneath life's preffure, yet bear up a while,
And what your bounded view, which only faw
A little part, deem'd evil, is no more:
The storms of Wintery Time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
HESE, as they change, Almighty Father, thefe,
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring
Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fields; the foftening air is balm; 5
Echo the mountains round; the foreft fmiles;
And every sense, and every heart, is joy.
Then comes Thy glory in the Summer-months,
With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy fun
Shoots full perfection through the fwelling year :
And oft Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks;
And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales.
Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfin'd,
And spreads a common feast for all that lives.
In Winter awful Thou! with clouds and storms
Around Thee thrown, tempeft o'er tempeft roll'd,
Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing,
Riding fublime, Thou bid'ft the world adore,
And humbleft nature with Thy northern blast.
Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine,
Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train,
Yet fo delightful mix'd with fuch kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;
Shade, unperceiv'd, so softening into shade;
And all fo forming an harmonious whole;
That, as they ftill fucceed, they ravish still.
But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze,
Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand,
That, ever-bufy, wheels the filent spheres ;
Works in the fecret deep; fhoots, fteaming, thence
The fair profufion that o'erfpreads the Spring:
Flings from the fun direct the flaming day;
Feeds every creature; hurls the tempeft forth;
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves,
With transport touches all the springs of life.
Nature, attend! join every living foul,
Beneath the fpacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join; and, ardent, raise
One general fong! To Him, ye vocal gales,
Breathe foft, whofe Spirit in your freshness breathes :
Oh, talk of Him in folitary glooms!
Where, o'er the rock, the fcarcely waving pine
Fills the brown fhade with a religious awe.
And whofe bolder note is heard afar,
ye,
Who shake th' aftonish'd world, lift high to heaven
Th' impetuous fong, and say from whom you rage.
His praife, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills;
And let me catch it as I mufe along.
Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound;
Ye fofter floods, that lead the humid maze
Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,
A fecret world of wonders in thyself,
Sound His ftupendous praise; whofe greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Soft-roll your incenfe, herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds to Him; whose fun exalts,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whofe pencil paints.
Ye forefts bend, ye harvests wave, to Him;
Breathe your fill song into the reaper's heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep
Unconscious lies, effufe your mildest beams,
Ye conftellations, while your angels strike,
Amid the spangled fky, the filver lyre.
Great fource of day! best image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
From world to world, the vital ocean round,
On nature write with every beam His praise.
The thunder rolls: be hush'd the proftrate world;
While cloud to cloud returns the folemn hymn.
Bleat out afresh, ye hills: ye moffy rocks,
Retain the found: the broad refponfive lowe,
Ye vallies, raife; for the Great Shepherd reigns;
And his unfuffering kingdom yet will come.
Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless fong
Burst from the groves! and when the restless day,
Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep,
Sweetest of birds! fweet Philomela, charm
The liftening fhades, and teach the night His praise. 80
Ye chief, for whom the whole creation fmiles,
At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all,
Crown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast,
Affembled men, to the deep organ join
The long-refounding voice, oft-breaking clear,
At folemn paufes, through the fwelling base;
And, as each mingling flame increases each,
In one united ardor rise to heaven.
O
|