The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq ::

Bright is the sun beam, smiling after showers;
Sweet are the pleasures of the rural groves,
When pearls, unnumbered, deck the morning grass;
But sweeter still the joys of evening walk,
Brighter the glories of the unbounded God.

Hail, sacred eve, thy presence sweet I woo,
Where pensive Solitude with rambling feet,
Strays through thy dusky groves, to view the works
Of heaven's high King; or, sunk in rapture's trance,
With silent gratitude delights to hear
Nature's soft harp, “the musick of the spheres,”
Which chant in endless notes Jehovah's praise!

Come then, sweet nymph, thy mildest breath impart,
To swell the youthful muse's artless reed;
Faintly to echo, with unskilful trill,
One note of Nature's universal song.

The sun, fatigued with his diurnal course
Through heaven's high summit, sunk to soft repose,
The Zephyrs, loaded with the rich perfumes

Of yon tall hill, in gay luxuriance clad,
Whispered invitement to the bower of joy,
And by the ambrosial presents, which they brought,
Urged their request, and won my willing soul.
To the fair spot I rove; a devious way
In many wanderings leads me to the height.
Along its brow a shaggy ridge of rocks,
High towering, keeps the distant fields in awe,
Enhedged with flowers, and shrubs, and vines, and thorns,
Which in luxuriant confusion grew.

Deep boiling o'er the top from confluent springs,
A river rolls adown the sloping hill;
From the high rocks the dashing current leaps
In one broad sheet, till, spreading by degrees,
The white foam flashes o'er the pointed crags,
Which with continual rage embroil its waves;
Now whirl in eddies, now in loud cascades
Roll the vexed current; while with rapid speed
Waves crowd on waves, to escape the rocks, and gain
The peaceful harbour of the quiet vale.

How short this ever varying scene of life!
How troubled too with woes! Thus down the stream
Of cares, perplexities, distress and wants,
As waves on waves, so generations crowd.
See, the vain bubble, floating down the surge,
From yon bright cloud a purple tincture draws;
But mark yon rock; its beauties; they are fled!
Thus wrecked, shall vanish all the world calls great;
Not all his purple can protect the king.
The busy world, and all the joys it boasts,

Where harpy Care and Disappointment reign,
Are like the billows of the troubled sea;
While calm Content and Solitude, sweet pair,
Like the soft lustre of Hesperian day,
E'er sweetly smile to lure us from the storm.
When sin disturbed the peace of Eden's bowers,
And man, degenerate, to her banners fled;
All-bounteous Heaven, although provoked to wrath,
Sent these fair visitants with exiled man,
To guide him in the paths, which lead to peace.
Here then they come! Their silent tread I hear.
God to their smiles creative power has given,
For here they smile, and second Eden blooms.
The gilded roof, the regal dome they fly,
And here with mild Philosophy retreat.
To shady grots, where Contemplation reigns,
They lead the heavenly pensive maid; 'tis here
That purest happiness delights to dwell.
Can he, who in these solitary seats
Retired, enjoying philosophick ease;
Can he, whose study and delight 's to scan
The laws, which regulate the starry world,
Be so infatuate, as to think that Chance,
Presiding, held the sceptre of the sky,
Gave Nature birth, and linked in one great chain
Creation's scale, from angels to the worm?

Dun night her sable curtain draws around,
And with diffusive darkness, far and near,
Burying the cot, the palace, and the tower,
Calls Reason's eye from objects here below,
To trace the wonders of the spangled sky.

Far as the eye can sweep in utmost range,
Where spheres on spheres in bright confusion roll,
Where swift Philosophy with towering speed
Extends her wings, and from the blazing height
Of Sirius descries more distant worlds;
These are thy wonders, great Jehovah; these,
As all their various orbits they perform,
Speak forth thy majesty and endless praise.
The mighty pillars of the universe,
The ethereal arch, with starry curtains hung,
Thy hands have made; through the stupendous frame
Loud hallelujahs and hosannas sound,
Wafting thy glory to unnumbered worlds,
In Nature's language, understood by all.
Yet though to us unbounded these may seem,
Throned on the height of thy omnipotence,
Thou look'st abroad with all discovering eye,
And all creation far beneath thee rolls.
'Tis thou, who check'st in mid career the storm,
Which on the wings of furious whirlwinds sweeps;
When battling clouds, in horrid ruin, crush,
And their pent wrath in bursting lightnings pour.
When raging winds, from Æolus released,
From its foundations heave the boiling deep,
And heaven-topped waves in liquid mountains rise,
And leave old ocean's dark recesses dry;
Thou smils't;—the main subsides, to smile with thee.

When, in the car of wrath, thou thunderest forth
To scour the nations with afflictive rod;
Before thy chariot wheels, self rolling, flies
Pale Awe, and strikes the universe with dread.

The tall hills tremble, and the valleys rise;
Guilt's tottering knees in mad distraction beat,
And the rent poles re-echo with thy voice.
One angry look from thee would cause the world
To dwindle into nought; one wrathful word
The universal edifice to fall,
And its high columns moulder into dust.

What soul but quakes, when thy deep thunders roll,
Or starts affrighted, when thy lightnings fly?
The astonish'd earth confesses power divine,
And, trembling, owns the presence of its God.
Shall not devotion then, with early day
Enkindling, glow, nor at the setting sun,
Man, thy own offspring, praise thy glorious name?
Forbid it, heaven, that he again should sin
Against the light of all your brilliant orbs,
And be expelled from earth's unblest abode,
An Eden, sure, compared to hells below!

Can there exist a son from Adam sprung,
How abject e'er from native dignity,
Or, in the vale of ignorance remote
From the bright sunshine of the learned world,
Who but uplifts his eye to yon bright vault,
Views all the glories, which emblaze the pole,
And doubts, one moment, their Creator's power?
All nature 's vocal with the voice of God;
From sphere to sphere Jehovah's name resounds;
E'en savage Indians, with untutored souls,
“See God in clouds, and hear him in the winds.”

If then one high Supreme presides o'er all;
As he, who is not deaf to Nature's voice,
Can't but confess; who then can be so mad,
As to refuse, to that omniscient Power,
Devotion, due to his omnipotence?
And in rebellion rise against his arm,
Whose breath created, and enlivens nature?
The soul of man, too feeble to endure
The vile transgression, shudders at its sight.

But there are such, who in the moral world
With genius blest, by fostering wisdom nursed,
Who oft have ranged the illimitable sky,
In vain conception of some selfish end,
Nor given to God the glory of his skill.
With vain idolatry and frenzy fired,
They reach the utmost verge of mortal ken,
Nor once perceive the features of a God
In wide magnificence illumine all.
They see the grand machine unvarying roll,
Nor once discern the arm, that moves the whole,
In “light ineffable,” they soar aloft,
But stain its purity with blackest crime.
Recoiling Reason startles at the deed,
And Nature's self, with indignation fired,
Blushes to view her own perversity.

Dark night with deepening gloom draws on apace;
The russet groves no trembling zephyr moves;
In majesty ascends night's brilliant queen;
The lengthened shades o'er every field extend,
And light, promiscuous, beautifies each scene.

Hard by the murmurs of the chrystal stream,
A sudden voice I hear; amazed I stand,
Catch every sound, and still the voice returns!

Behold a sage advancing through the groves,
The moonbeam trembling on his silver locks.
Again I listen, but his voice has ceased!
Time's ruthless hand with wrinkles knit his brow;
A long white beard descended from his chin;
A sudden awe thrills through my every limb;
He stops, abrupt, beside a purling stream,
Where chaste Diana kissed the silver wave.
Fair in the azure chambers of the east,
His raptured eyes beheld the radiant maid;
The spangled constellations of the heavens,
Lost in surprise, astonishment, he viewed;
“These are thy works, eternal Father; thine
“Nature's great altar of unceasing praise,
“Raised in the temple of unbounded space!
“Blest be that God who smiled upon my birth,
“Whom sent a guardian angel from the sky
“To snatch me from the wreck, which threats the world,
“Amid these lone retreats, to range the stars,
“Those gems, that with unsullied lustre shine,
“To grace the crown of high Omnipotence.”
He ceas'd; his lips in faltering silence hung;
But silence spoke, devotion was not dumb.
The tear of gratitude gush'd from his eye,
And the pure transport melted all his soul.

Hail, bright Philosophy, thy pages ne'er
Could boast a fairer dignity to man!

Of morals pure, and of a heart sincere,
In him the virtues, all resplendent, shone.
“Yon river,” spoke the sage, “which foams along,
“Its waves perplexed, by craggy rocks enraged,
“Points to my eye the picture of the world,
“Where care corrodes all happiness below.
“From the tumultuous scenes of worldly strife,
“Where pride's gay, tinsel train, in fashion's sun,
“Bask like the butterfly, a day to charm,
“To these green bowers, and rural groves I came,
“And sought retirement in her native shade.
“The heaven which mortals vainly seek below,
“In earthly gew-gaws, and in princely state,
“May here be found, if earth a heaven produce.
“By contemplation led, we walk on high;
“And here by fond anticipation taste
“That bliss, which virtue shall hereafter crown.
“While Nature's laws direct the starry world,
“And mortals think they're wise if skill'd in these,
“Let sages, more contemplative, unite,
“To adorn mankind, the virtues to display,
“Those stars, which glitter in the moral sky.
“The voice of Nature is the voice of praise;
“Yon orbs but shine, our gratitude to raise.”

He ceas'd; for admiration then began,
And honoured with a tear the pride of man.

University of Virginia Library

[Bright is the sun beam, smiling after showers]