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263

A DESCRIPTION OF WINTER.

FROM GAWIN DOUGLAS, Bishop of DUNKELD. MODERNIZED.

Bruma recurrit iners.
Hor.


265

TO THE MEMORY Of my late INGENIOUS AND LEARNED FRIEND, AND SCHOOLMASTER, The Rev. JOHN LISTER, A. M. The following POEM is, with a just Sense of Gratitude, inscribed.

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Now had fair Phœbus, Heav'n's illustrious eye,
Enter'd the wintery regions of the sky;
Like burnish'd gold no longer beam'd his sphere,
So faded was the colour of the year:
Just at the period of his annual course,
All faint and feeble grew his vital force,
Prepar'd to enter, the succeeding morn,
The dark domain of clouded Capricorn:
For tho' he sheds sweet influence from on high,
Lamp of the world, and glory of the sky,

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In weeping Winter, when his orb declines,
Languid he looks, and wan and watry shines.
Now reign'd the power of keen congealing frost,
When all the beauty of the year is lost;
The Brumal season, bitter, cold, and pale,
When short dull days, and sounding storms prevail.
The wild north wind, tremendous from afar,
O'erwhelm'd imperial Neptune in his carr,
Their scatter'd honours from the forests tore,
And dash'd the mad waves headlong on the shore.
Fierce, foaming rivers, swell'd with torrents brown,
Hurl'd all their banks precipitately down;
Loud roar'd the thunder of the raging floods,
Loud as gaunt lions bellowing shake the woods.
Th' unwieldy monsters which the deeps contain,
Sought safety at the bottom of the main.
Strife-stirring Mars, regressive in his sphere,
Sustain'd the cold dominions of the year;
And black Orion dimm'd the face of day,
Leading the luckless mariner astray.

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Saturn, whose boding aspect, chill and wan,
Frowns in dread vengeance on the race of man,
Denouncing dearth, and desolating pest,
Held high his course progressive in the east;
And blooming Hebe, Juno's daughter gay,
Was ravish'd of her beautiful array.
Incessant rains had drench'd the floated ground,
And clouds o'ercast the firmament around:
White shone the hills involv'd in silver snow,
But brown and barren were the vales below:
On firm foundations of eternal stone
High rugged rocks in frosty splendor shone;
The hoary fields no vivid verdure wore,
Frost warpt the world, and beauty was no more.
Wide-wasting winds that chill'd the dreary day,
And seemed to threaten Nature with decay,
Reminded man, at every baleful breath,
Of wintry age, and all-subduing death.
Horrific gloom deform'd the turbid air,
And livid lightning shot a dismal glare:

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Above pale meteors gleam'd, and all below
Was one bleak scene of drizzling sleet and snow.
The hollow ditches, swell'd with sudden rains,
Pour'd a black deluge on the lowland plains,
And every road receiv'd the sordid flood,
Swam with the swell, or stiffen'd into mud
Fern on the fallows wither'd as it grew,
And brown heaths bore a mossy-colour'd hue;
Bare were the bottoms, and the high hills hoar;
The drooping cattle moan'd upon the moor;
The red weed waver'd on the breezy dike;
Rills in deep channels murmuring roll'd oblique.
From horrid rocks, that lour'd upon the coast,
Hung icy spears, the beauteous work of frost.
Dun was the soil and steril, and decay'd
Was every flower, and every tender blade;
And every wood and wilderness around
Diffus'd their wither'd honours on the ground.
So stoutly Boreas his loud bugle blew,
Down to the dales the trembling deer withdrew:

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To thorny thickets flock'd the feather'd throng,
And pensive plied their melancholy song,
Or to the shelter of the forest driven,
Escap'd the windy turbulence of heaven.
Down the rough rock dash'd torrents with harsh sound
Rush'd, and impetuous shook the country round:
The trees, that o'er the mountain's top reclin'd,
Wav'd their high heads, and murmur'd to the wind.
Industrious peasants, toil-enduring men,
Went wet and weary, draggled in the fen:
Beneath the wild broom, or the shelving steep,
Securely skulk'd the shepherd and his sheep;
But houshold animals which man had bred,
Enjoy'd warm cover, or in stables fed:
The mule, the horse, the ox, and brindled boar,
And liv'd at large on summer's golden store.
The hollow-howling winds, and frost intense,
Benumb'd man's vigour, and congeal'd the sense;

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And loudly told him what his wants require,
A double garment, and bright-burning fire,
And generous wine, and comfortable cheer,
To guard against the rigour of the year.
Warm from the hearth, and plentifully fed,
With early eve I press'd my downy bed,
And of soft covering added many a fold
To dissipate the penetrating cold;
Then, duly cross'd, prepar'd for balmy sleep,
When through the glass I saw pale Cynthia peep:
Her silver orb display'd a watery light,
And faintly glimmer'd all the livelong night;
She calmly sailing thro' th' etherial way,
Full orb'd, oppos'd the glorious lamp of day,
And reach'd the sign where Cancer's kingdoms glow,
Thron'd in her zenith, tho' the Sun was low.
In boding note, within her darksome bower,
Where crawling ivy clasps yon antient tower,

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I heard the solitary owl complain,
Saddening dread midnight with her hideous strain:
While clamorous wild-geese in long trains on high,
With lazy pinions fann'd the liquid sky;
Lull'd by the drowzy din in sleep I lay,
Till from the east pale gleam'd the dubious day;
Till chanticleer his merry notes begun,
Thrice clapt his wings, and call'd the lingering sun.
Rous'd by his orisons from sweet repose,
I shook off slumbers as the morning rose;
The morning rose, but shed a languid light,
And down in ocean sunk the queen of night.
Then jack-daws chatter'd on the chimney high;
And cranes renewed their voyage thro' the sky:
Whose piercing clamours sounded in my ear,
Presage of wintery winds and tempests gathering near.
Perch'd on a tree that nigh my chamber grew,
The kite began her lamentable pew,
Whereby the dawning of the day I knew;

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Then call'd for lights, and heav'n with pray'r addrest,
And wrapt my cold limbs in the warmest vest,
And thro' the window half-way opening saw
The melancholy morning bleak and raw;
Thick clouds envelop'd all the mountains round,
And rough and rigid was the hoary ground;
The bare boughs clashing rattled to the blast,
And tall grass trembled as the wild wind past.
Like pendent pearls, on every shrub that grew,
And every stubble, hung the frozen dew;
And hail-stones pattering from the chilling sky
Hopt on the thatch, and on the causeway by.
Aghast, the joyless season to behold,
My teeth all chattering with the piercing cold,
I clos'd the casement, and retir'd in haste
To quell with cheering blaze the horror-breathing blast.