University of Virginia Library

Inspir'd, in meditation's sober hour,
I trace through all his works th' Almighty pow'r,
Whose ceaseless bounties round the seasons roll,
Till gratitude and gladness fill my soul.
While nature charms with annual changes bland,
I love the novel, beautiful and grand.
I love the children of parturient spring,
The plants that blossom, and the birds that sing;
When near my noon-tide bow'r, the genial gale
With life and love re-animates each vale.
I love the landscape fair with cultur'd farms,
When ruddy summer spreads his roseate charms;
When day's last glimm'rings fade along the skies,
Pleas'd I observe the paly crescent rise,
What time eve's gauzy veil the day-glare dims,
And vap'ry twilight o'er th' horizon swims.
With joy I view the morning mists appear,
When autumn's sceptre rules the ripen'd year;
Lo, where the reaper gathers Ceres' gifts,
And from the fields their yellow burden lifts!
Around, what prospects cheer the ravish'd eye?
Above, what glowing colours gild the sky?
Then oft the clouds from heav'n's bright loom unroll'd,
Display their silvery tissue wrought with gold,
Whose skirts transparent arrowy lustres tinge,
And lavish rainbows round th' ethereal fringe.
My soul exults to soar from earth at night,
When wintry skies are wrapp'd in boreal light;
When sanguine meteors streak with dismal stains
The lurid air, and shoot athwart the plains;
Or when each star is muffled, and a robe,
Dark as the pall of death, invests the globe;
While loud the whirlwind round the forest raves,
And rocks reverberate the roar of waves;
Or lessening surges leave the craggy shore,
As the tir'd tempest half forgets to roar,

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On dark-red clouds, when storms electric ride,
And fire with frequent flash the mountain's side;
I love to hear the distant thunders roll,
That swell to dread sublimity the soul.
Though nature charm through all her varying forms,
And God be seen in sunshine as in storms;
Yet man a more congenial love inspires,
Wakes better transports and sublimer fires;
He, form'd for higher schemes, conceptions vast,
Surveys the future, and reviews the past,
And sees o'er scanty bounds of space and time,
Bosom'd in bliss his native home sublime.