 | The British Months |  |
The Barometer. Rules for observing it. Outward signs of the weather. Virgil's Georgicks
But let Saint Swithun's legend pass!
More truly will the tube of glass,
With pure mercurial column fill'd,
Signs of the approaching weather yield.
If the rais'd fluid downward tend
Day after day, and still descend,
Mark'd by the graduated scale;
Believe the sign, that soon will fail,
Though fair and flattering to the eye,
The splendour of the cloudless sky.
Or if, by long and hasty strides,
Now up, now down, the silver glides,
Be cautious! Such brisk movements tell
Of days unfix'd and changeable,
Not by the actual height alone,
But by well-mark'd relation shown.
But if the silver upward rise,
Though dense the rain and dark the skies,
And still in one direction move,
Ascending; and disclose above
The steady column's rounded top,
Aspiring like a convex drop:
Then know, howe'er involved in gloom,
Soon will the conquering sun resume
The imperial rod, and day by day
Serene the aërial empire sway.
More truly will the tube of glass,
With pure mercurial column fill'd,
Signs of the approaching weather yield.
If the rais'd fluid downward tend
Day after day, and still descend,
Mark'd by the graduated scale;
Believe the sign, that soon will fail,
Though fair and flattering to the eye,
The splendour of the cloudless sky.
Or if, by long and hasty strides,
Now up, now down, the silver glides,
Be cautious! Such brisk movements tell
Of days unfix'd and changeable,
262
But by well-mark'd relation shown.
But if the silver upward rise,
Though dense the rain and dark the skies,
And still in one direction move,
Ascending; and disclose above
The steady column's rounded top,
Aspiring like a convex drop:
Then know, howe'er involved in gloom,
Soon will the conquering sun resume
The imperial rod, and day by day
Serene the aërial empire sway.
Nor wants there many an outward sign,
Whence old experience may divine
The future drought, the approaching storm:
From vapoury clouds' still varying form;
From winds, in changeful currents borne;
From dewy eve, or misty morn;
From hills, which far remov'd or near,
The same the space between, appear;
Or high or low the swallow's flight;
From clamorous rook, or soaring kite;
From antick gestures of the swine;
From houshold birds, or pastur'd kine;
From the swift sea-fowl's dripping wings;
From slimy frogs, and creeping things,
And watchful insect tribes; from none
More certain than the rapid sun,
The stars' pure lustre, and more bright
Or dim the silver orb of night.
“For ever to the wary eye
Sure signs the approaching times supply:
And still the symptoms of to-day
Tomorrow's character betray:”
So sang the Mantuan bard of yore,
And to the signs, from Grecian lore
Deriv'd, his Roman prudence join'd:
And they, who note the signs, will find
The truth by juster rules they tell,
Than fam'd Saint Swithun's oracle.
Whence old experience may divine
The future drought, the approaching storm:
From vapoury clouds' still varying form;
From winds, in changeful currents borne;
From dewy eve, or misty morn;
From hills, which far remov'd or near,
The same the space between, appear;
Or high or low the swallow's flight;
From clamorous rook, or soaring kite;
From antick gestures of the swine;
From houshold birds, or pastur'd kine;
From the swift sea-fowl's dripping wings;
From slimy frogs, and creeping things,
And watchful insect tribes; from none
More certain than the rapid sun,
The stars' pure lustre, and more bright
Or dim the silver orb of night.
“For ever to the wary eye
Sure signs the approaching times supply:
263
Tomorrow's character betray:”
So sang the Mantuan bard of yore,
And to the signs, from Grecian lore
Deriv'd, his Roman prudence join'd:
And they, who note the signs, will find
The truth by juster rules they tell,
Than fam'd Saint Swithun's oracle.
| The British Months | |