 | The British Months |  |
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DECEMBER.
The month gloomy, but contemplation of it not unpleasing. Beautiful bright morning. Early frosts transient. A stormy night. Reflexions during the storm. Friends in danger. Act of gallantry and humanity in a young sailor
To bid farewell the parting year,
Yet one stage more! Through gloomy skies,
And miry ways, the journey lies;
Dimm'd are the landscape's features fair,
And mute the musick of the air.
Yet oft you see a beaming smile
December of his gloom beguile:
And still to them, who pierce below
The surface, and desire to know
From objects, that the sense employ,
A more than vulgar transient joy;
'Tis no unpleasing task to trace
The sadder traits of nature's face,
And in her frowns and tears to find
Food for the meditative mind.
Clear was the dawn, and fair to-day
The brightness of the morning ray.
And when the sun, all rosy red,
Lit yon south-eastern mountain's head,
Upon a prospect fair he shone,
Fair as he oft has shin'd upon.
The earth, outspread his beams before,
Was mantled with a vesture frore.
And brightened by his orient beam,
Earth with that vesture frore might seem
With tissued robe of silver dight,
And sown with sparkling gems of light.
While heav'n, which first uncurtain'd spread
Around those beams of rosy red,
Disparted then in fillets sheen
Of orange, pink, and golden green;
The heaven at length with cloudless blue,
Pure as the summer's midday hue,
And, casting back that blue again,
Beneath the interminable main,
Join'd in the vision of delight,
And “laughed to see that glorious sight. ”
The brightness of the morning ray.
And when the sun, all rosy red,
Lit yon south-eastern mountain's head,
Upon a prospect fair he shone,
Fair as he oft has shin'd upon.
The earth, outspread his beams before,
Was mantled with a vesture frore.
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Earth with that vesture frore might seem
With tissued robe of silver dight,
And sown with sparkling gems of light.
While heav'n, which first uncurtain'd spread
Around those beams of rosy red,
Disparted then in fillets sheen
Of orange, pink, and golden green;
The heaven at length with cloudless blue,
Pure as the summer's midday hue,
And, casting back that blue again,
Beneath the interminable main,
Join'd in the vision of delight,
And “laughed to see that glorious sight. ”
The show is past. For like a show,
Emblem of all this world below
Can furnish, beauteous, bright, and gay,
Of short duration, swift decay,
Full oft is early winter's frost!
A pageant vain, a transient boast,
It glitters in the morning ray;
As with a breath, it melts away:
And, oft before that glorious sun
Has his meridian summit won,
O'ershadowing mists obscure his face;
Till that resplendent morn give place
To a dim noontide's sight deform,
An eve of gloom, a night of storm.
Emblem of all this world below
Can furnish, beauteous, bright, and gay,
Of short duration, swift decay,
Full oft is early winter's frost!
A pageant vain, a transient boast,
It glitters in the morning ray;
As with a breath, it melts away:
And, oft before that glorious sun
Has his meridian summit won,
O'ershadowing mists obscure his face;
Till that resplendent morn give place
To a dim noontide's sight deform,
An eve of gloom, a night of storm.
Yes, stormy is the night and drear!
Its rage you see not, but you hear
Fast and more fast the ceaseless rain,
Which clatters on the rattling pane
With side-long drift; with bubbling plash
Bursts sputtering from the creaking sash;
Sweeps round the walls, and beats aloof
Right downward on the slated roof:
Mixt with the gusty blast, that howls
And bellows thro' the chimney cowls,
Thro' passages, and quivering doors;
And nook and crevic'd chink explores
With whistle shrill, and long-drawn sigh,
And rush of pinions hurtling by!
Now like the crash of jangling bells,
It peals amain; and now it yells
Heart-stirring sounds: while fancy dreams
She hears commingled shouts and screams,
The noise of conflict in the air,
And now the wailings of despair,
And now disaster's bitter cry:
And listens, while, as in reply,
Sound from the wood responsive tones,
Ear-piercing shouts, and sullen moans!
Its rage you see not, but you hear
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Which clatters on the rattling pane
With side-long drift; with bubbling plash
Bursts sputtering from the creaking sash;
Sweeps round the walls, and beats aloof
Right downward on the slated roof:
Mixt with the gusty blast, that howls
And bellows thro' the chimney cowls,
Thro' passages, and quivering doors;
And nook and crevic'd chink explores
With whistle shrill, and long-drawn sigh,
And rush of pinions hurtling by!
Now like the crash of jangling bells,
It peals amain; and now it yells
Heart-stirring sounds: while fancy dreams
She hears commingled shouts and screams,
The noise of conflict in the air,
And now the wailings of despair,
And now disaster's bitter cry:
And listens, while, as in reply,
Sound from the wood responsive tones,
Ear-piercing shouts, and sullen moans!
'Tis pleasant then the mind to keep
Suspended from the midnight sleep:
To gratulate our place of rest,
From ill secured, with comfort blest;
And turn a kindly thought on those,
Whom less indulgent lots expose,
On dismal waste, or ocean tide,
The pelting of the storm to bide.
And well it is the mind to raise
To Him, whose will the tempest sways;
To pray of Him, his shield to spread
O'er the defenceless, houseless head;
For blessings, that our home surround,
To breathe the silent thanks profound;
Then calmly, in his safeguard blest,
To “lay us down and take our rest !”
Suspended from the midnight sleep:
To gratulate our place of rest,
From ill secured, with comfort blest;
And turn a kindly thought on those,
Whom less indulgent lots expose,
On dismal waste, or ocean tide,
The pelting of the storm to bide.
And well it is the mind to raise
To Him, whose will the tempest sways;
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O'er the defenceless, houseless head;
For blessings, that our home surround,
To breathe the silent thanks profound;
Then calmly, in his safeguard blest,
To “lay us down and take our rest !”
Yet oft may tenderer feelings rise
Of sweet domestick charities,
And prompt a warmer pray'r, if one,
A kinsman, or perchance a son,
By kindness as by blood allied,
Be tossing o'er the waters wide!
Of sweet domestick charities,
And prompt a warmer pray'r, if one,
A kinsman, or perchance a son,
By kindness as by blood allied,
Be tossing o'er the waters wide!
Such pray'r for thee, my gallant Boy,
Whose ways my daily thoughts employ,
But most my visions of the night,
When darkness broods and storms affright;
Such pray'r I tender then for thee!
That the Great Ruler of the sea
O'er the tempestuous ocean-tide
May be thy Keeper and thy Guide,
Preserve and give thee good success!
Mix'd with parental thankfulness,
That still his arm hath o'er thee held
In northern floods his guardian shield,
Nor less from danger's Proteus forms
Which haunt that southern “cape of storms,”
Australian, Magellanick seas,
Columbian isles and Cyclades:—
Chief in that peril, when the deep
Receiv'd thee from thy tow'r-like ship
Down plunging, resolute to save
Death's victim from the wintry wave.
And death had triumph'd, but that He,
Who bade thee to the rescue flee,
The flame he lighted in thy breast
With answering skill and vigour blest,
And from the tyrant's closing maw
Empower'd the sinking prey to draw!
A peril, whence, in days of old,
Rome, had she own'd thee, had inroll'd
Thy name with honour for the deed,
And crown'd thee with befitting meed:
For Rome her generous children knew
To recompense with honour due,
Him crowning with her noblest wreath,
Who sav'd a citizen from death!
Whose ways my daily thoughts employ,
But most my visions of the night,
When darkness broods and storms affright;
Such pray'r I tender then for thee!
That the Great Ruler of the sea
O'er the tempestuous ocean-tide
May be thy Keeper and thy Guide,
Preserve and give thee good success!
Mix'd with parental thankfulness,
That still his arm hath o'er thee held
In northern floods his guardian shield,
Nor less from danger's Proteus forms
Which haunt that southern “cape of storms,”
Australian, Magellanick seas,
Columbian isles and Cyclades:—
Chief in that peril, when the deep
Receiv'd thee from thy tow'r-like ship
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Death's victim from the wintry wave.
And death had triumph'd, but that He,
Who bade thee to the rescue flee,
The flame he lighted in thy breast
With answering skill and vigour blest,
And from the tyrant's closing maw
Empower'd the sinking prey to draw!
A peril, whence, in days of old,
Rome, had she own'd thee, had inroll'd
Thy name with honour for the deed,
And crown'd thee with befitting meed:
For Rome her generous children knew
To recompense with honour due,
Him crowning with her noblest wreath,
Who sav'd a citizen from death!
But truce to thoughts like these! To God
“Who sits above the water-flood ,”
Be mine to lift the voice of praise!
Be mine the voice of pray'r to raise!
Now when the wind in fury raves,
And loud respond the midnight waves,
Where'er at duty's call, remote
O'er the broad sea 'tis thine to float,
Be mine the humble confidence,
Which in the hour of danger, whence
Alone come help and safety, knows,
The faithful spirit's calm repose !
“Who sits above the water-flood ,”
Be mine to lift the voice of praise!
Be mine the voice of pray'r to raise!
Now when the wind in fury raves,
And loud respond the midnight waves,
Where'er at duty's call, remote
O'er the broad sea 'tis thine to float,
Be mine the humble confidence,
Which in the hour of danger, whence
Alone come help and safety, knows,
The faithful spirit's calm repose !
The author desires to take this occasion of expressing to the Royal Humane Society a thankful acknowledgment for their approbation of the act noticed above, testified by their medal, “Ob civem servatum.” It was the opinion of persons conversant with the naval service, that the act would have led to the professional advancement of the young man, then a year past midshipman: especially as his gallant, humane, and meritorious conduct was duly reported and recommended by the Admiral of the station, and the Captain of the ship, to the proper authorities, by whom it was in words acknowledged. After almost three years, however, he is still in the same situation: having now had the honour of serving his Majesty, with a brief interruption, for near ten years, during which he has acquired a high character from every commanding officer under whom he has served.
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Dark morning. Unbroken blackness. General inactivity of nature. The Cattle, &c. The Birds. Pigeons. Domestick Poultry. The Turkey. The Guinea fowl. The Peacock, his beauty and habits. Common Ducks. Parts adapted to stations
Scarce from the face of things withdrawn
Is night's black curtain. Darkness lowers
O'er the dim earth in ceaseless showers;
And hangs o'er heav'n a deathlike shroud,
One dense, unchang'd, unopening cloud.
Not, as in April's changeful day,
At intervals a sunny ray
Breaks cheerful thro' the floating rack:
But morn to noon an inky black
Frowns mournful on the wearied sight,
From noon to eve, from eve to night.
Nor field nor garden now invites
The rambling step to new delights.
Nature to man, and bird, and beast,
Proclaims a dull unwonted rest.
Aside the inactive plough is laid:
The adhesive mould the clotted spade
Defies. Beneath the sheltering hedge,
Beneath the stack's o'erhanging ledge,
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Turn'd backward to the driving storm,
Crowd fearfully. Their guardians nigh
In folding cloak close mantled lie:
And nigh the dogs, still wont to share
The master's comforts as his care,
Beneath the well-known refuge creep,
Lull'd by the storm to transient sleep.
The birds, free nature's tenants, house,
As best they may, within the boughs:
While those, for man's convenience bred,
Couch cowering in their houshold shed.
As best they may, within the boughs:
While those, for man's convenience bred,
Couch cowering in their houshold shed.
Not now afar the flocking dove
Wheels his swift flight, tho' apt to rove,
And seek whate'er the cultur'd field
Or distant thrashing floor may yield.
Him the harsh time forbids to ply
The rapid wing, and thro' the sky
With smooth unerring motion float,
Close tenant of the crowded cote.
Wheels his swift flight, tho' apt to rove,
And seek whate'er the cultur'd field
Or distant thrashing floor may yield.
Him the harsh time forbids to ply
The rapid wing, and thro' the sky
With smooth unerring motion float,
Close tenant of the crowded cote.
Tho' with his shrill and cheerful horn
He early wak'd the slumbering morn,
Not now the scarlet-crested cock
Leads proudly forth the obedient flock;
Their nightly roost not yet forsook,
Or thronging in some covert nook.
He early wak'd the slumbering morn,
Not now the scarlet-crested cock
Leads proudly forth the obedient flock;
Their nightly roost not yet forsook,
Or thronging in some covert nook.
Not now the Turkey gives to view
His head and neck of red and blue;
And, as he stalks his dames around,
Sweeps with strong wing the grating ground.
His head and neck of red and blue;
And, as he stalks his dames around,
Sweeps with strong wing the grating ground.
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Not now to pick the scatter'd seeds
His young the dark Pintado leads;
Whose spangles white unnumber'd lie,
Like stars throughout the dark blue sky.
His young the dark Pintado leads;
Whose spangles white unnumber'd lie,
Like stars throughout the dark blue sky.
Not now the Peacock proud displays
Abroad his many-mingled rays;
Of verdant gold his tufted crest,
His purple neck, and purple breast,
Which, slowly wav'd, their plumes indue
At every change with colours new.
Clos'd is his bright green length of train,
Which Flora's richest tints in vain
May strive to match: instinct with eyes,
Of gemlike lights, and rainbow dies.
See on the limb of elm-tree tall,
The barn's steep thatch, or paddock wall,
He now maintains his airy hold,
Nor deigns his dripping tail unfold.
But when the sun's reviving beams
Shall tempt him forth, with rival gleams
Again his gorgeous disk he'll spread;
And o'er his coronetted head
Incline the bending plumes, and move
Majestick 'mid the bright alcove.
Abroad his many-mingled rays;
Of verdant gold his tufted crest,
His purple neck, and purple breast,
Which, slowly wav'd, their plumes indue
At every change with colours new.
Clos'd is his bright green length of train,
Which Flora's richest tints in vain
May strive to match: instinct with eyes,
Of gemlike lights, and rainbow dies.
See on the limb of elm-tree tall,
The barn's steep thatch, or paddock wall,
He now maintains his airy hold,
Nor deigns his dripping tail unfold.
But when the sun's reviving beams
Shall tempt him forth, with rival gleams
Again his gorgeous disk he'll spread;
And o'er his coronetted head
Incline the bending plumes, and move
Majestick 'mid the bright alcove.
Yet are there some, who pleas'd employ
The time with a more sprightly joy,
Birds of the webb'd and palmate feet!
They with hoarse cries of welcome greet,
Rejoicing in their wet domain,
The floods of still descending rain:
High o'er their backs with fluttering wing,
And splashing bill, the moisture fling;
Or round and round disporting sail;
Or downward, with inverted tail,
Plunge deep, the head and neck to lave,
And revel in the dimpled wave.
The time with a more sprightly joy,
Birds of the webb'd and palmate feet!
They with hoarse cries of welcome greet,
Rejoicing in their wet domain,
The floods of still descending rain:
High o'er their backs with fluttering wing,
And splashing bill, the moisture fling;
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Or downward, with inverted tail,
Plunge deep, the head and neck to lave,
And revel in the dimpled wave.
To each his pleasures, as assign'd
By Him, who each created kind
Gave parts adapted to his race,
And each his own appropriate place:—
The pinion strong and light and fleet,
Or sinewy legs, or oarlike feet,
The heaven's expanded face to skim,
To walk the earth, the flood to swim.—
To all extends his bounty's plan,
To bird and beast, but most to man!
By Him, who each created kind
Gave parts adapted to his race,
And each his own appropriate place:—
The pinion strong and light and fleet,
Or sinewy legs, or oarlike feet,
The heaven's expanded face to skim,
To walk the earth, the flood to swim.—
To all extends his bounty's plan,
To bird and beast, but most to man!
Dreariness of the season, how best relieved. The mountain torrent. The garden brook. The Meadows overflowed. The expanded Lake. The Flood. All things equally easy to Omnipotence. A calm morning. Appearances after the storm. Darkness of the landscape. All objects partake of the general gloominess
Ah! drear is now the season's pow'r,
And dull the lazy-footed hour,
To them whose minds the sway confess
Of apathetick listlessness;
Nor their's the body's boon employ,
Nor their's the mind's sublimer joy.
And dull the lazy-footed hour,
To them whose minds the sway confess
Of apathetick listlessness;
Nor their's the body's boon employ,
Nor their's the mind's sublimer joy.
O, now be mine, tho' pent at home,
In thought o'er distant climes to roam;
Or summon round my lonely hearth
The wise and learned of the earth;
Still better pleas'd, such converse there,
Combin'd with those I love, to share!
Mine through the present minute's space,
The lore of bygone times to trace,
In never-dying records shown;
And make the ages past my own!
Be mine, shut out from rural views,
To meditate the rural Muse;
Or, by the pen's or pencil's aid,
Survey before my sight portray'd
By mimick art kind nature's store;
Her universal works explore;
And thence to nature's Author look,
Or mark Him in his written book!
Great in his works, but still more great
Is He, and in his word, complete:
Those his great pow'r and godhead prove;
This loud proclaims that “God is love!”
In thought o'er distant climes to roam;
Or summon round my lonely hearth
The wise and learned of the earth;
Still better pleas'd, such converse there,
Combin'd with those I love, to share!
Mine through the present minute's space,
The lore of bygone times to trace,
In never-dying records shown;
And make the ages past my own!
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To meditate the rural Muse;
Or, by the pen's or pencil's aid,
Survey before my sight portray'd
By mimick art kind nature's store;
Her universal works explore;
And thence to nature's Author look,
Or mark Him in his written book!
Great in his works, but still more great
Is He, and in his word, complete:
Those his great pow'r and godhead prove;
This loud proclaims that “God is love!”
To him, who thus the gloom can cheer,
No season's dull, no weather drear.
But still abroad their sway maintain
No season's dull, no weather drear.
The beating wind, the pouring rain.
And see, 'tis mark'd, that heathy hill,
With many a strange unwonted rill;
A brawler, full of rage and sound,
Scattering its turbid froth around;
Made no perennial course to hold,
And feed the vegetative mould;
But such as troublous times produce,
For wild o'erflowing floods a sluice,
Which dangerous less, less straitly pent,
Here find a salutary vent:
In days serene and calm unknown,
'Tis here to-day, to-morrow gone!
Now too, the garden's little pride,
Wont with clear stream and calm to glide,
And bathe the trees' o'er-arching roots,
And paint the flowers, mature the fruits;
The brook, that babbling crept along,
Scarce heard amid the blackbird's song,
By night's, by day's, swift torrents swell'd,
With still augmenting force propell'd,
Down the slope fall impetuous pours
His restless waves, and foams, and roars.
Whate'er of late obstruction kept
His course aback, before it swept,
Or leafy heap, or transverse bough,
Is gone; as forth it passes now
In one diffuse unbroken stream,
Which swelling meets the margin's brim.
Till, to a little river grown,
It scorns its wonted banks to own;
And, more and more uplifted, spreads
Its waters o'er the subject meads:—
Where evening saw the cattle graze,
Disclosing to the morrow's gaze,
What may to stranger eyes appear,
No meadow, but a fish-fraught mere.
While, o'er the necks of severing land,
The flood the fish-fraught meres expand;
And gathering, unrestrained and free,
Form thro' the vale a midland sea.
Wont with clear stream and calm to glide,
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And paint the flowers, mature the fruits;
The brook, that babbling crept along,
Scarce heard amid the blackbird's song,
By night's, by day's, swift torrents swell'd,
With still augmenting force propell'd,
Down the slope fall impetuous pours
His restless waves, and foams, and roars.
Whate'er of late obstruction kept
His course aback, before it swept,
Or leafy heap, or transverse bough,
Is gone; as forth it passes now
In one diffuse unbroken stream,
Which swelling meets the margin's brim.
Till, to a little river grown,
It scorns its wonted banks to own;
And, more and more uplifted, spreads
Its waters o'er the subject meads:—
Where evening saw the cattle graze,
Disclosing to the morrow's gaze,
What may to stranger eyes appear,
No meadow, but a fish-fraught mere.
While, o'er the necks of severing land,
The flood the fish-fraught meres expand;
And gathering, unrestrained and free,
Form thro' the vale a midland sea.
Thus, if the venturous Muse may dare
Small things with greatest to compare,
Above the “outstanding earth ” of old
Were her collected waters roll'd,
Join'd with the waters from the sky;
And into flood transformed “the dry.”
But what is great, and what is small,
To Him who made and governs all?
Alike to Him, a cloke to spread
Of water o'er the pastur'd mead;
Or ope “heaven's floodgates ,” and set free
O'er the broad earth the boundless sea.
He bids the clouds their stores expand,
And metes the waters in his hand !
Small things with greatest to compare,
Above the “outstanding earth ” of old
Were her collected waters roll'd,
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And into flood transformed “the dry.”
But what is great, and what is small,
To Him who made and governs all?
Alike to Him, a cloke to spread
Of water o'er the pastur'd mead;
Or ope “heaven's floodgates ,” and set free
O'er the broad earth the boundless sea.
He bids the clouds their stores expand,
And metes the waters in his hand !
Another night! In calm repose
The heav'ns again their windows close.
Again the peaceful brook has found
On either hand its wonted bound:
Where, a thin vein, the waters run,
Quick glancing to the morning sun,
And broider each uncover'd brim
Bright sparkling with a silver rim.
As sinks the slow subsiding surge,
Again the unburden'd meads emerge;
But still the slime and oozy mud
Mark with fresh stains the vanished flood:
Not pleasing to the idle eye;
Yet there the thoughtful mind may spy,
In store beneath the unsightly slime,
The promise of the early prime,
Bright fields with mantle fresh array'd,
The painted flower, the verdant blade!
The heav'ns again their windows close.
Again the peaceful brook has found
On either hand its wonted bound:
Where, a thin vein, the waters run,
Quick glancing to the morning sun,
And broider each uncover'd brim
Bright sparkling with a silver rim.
As sinks the slow subsiding surge,
Again the unburden'd meads emerge;
But still the slime and oozy mud
Mark with fresh stains the vanished flood:
Not pleasing to the idle eye;
Yet there the thoughtful mind may spy,
In store beneath the unsightly slime,
The promise of the early prime,
Bright fields with mantle fresh array'd,
The painted flower, the verdant blade!
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How scant amid the wintry scene
Is joy's bright tint, the cheerful green!
The brush another Pow'r has caught,
The Genius he of solemn thought;
And all the landscape's face endues
With varied shades of sober hues;
O'er hill and valley, rise and fall,
In mingled patches, dismal all.
All but the sprouting wheat, which shows
Its tender blades in light green rows;
Or where, by peasant's straw-thatched cot,
Peeps forth a little garden plot;
Or their fresh tints the turnips keep,
Fit pasture for the nibbling sheep.
Is joy's bright tint, the cheerful green!
The brush another Pow'r has caught,
The Genius he of solemn thought;
And all the landscape's face endues
With varied shades of sober hues;
O'er hill and valley, rise and fall,
In mingled patches, dismal all.
All but the sprouting wheat, which shows
Its tender blades in light green rows;
Or where, by peasant's straw-thatched cot,
Peeps forth a little garden plot;
Or their fresh tints the turnips keep,
Fit pasture for the nibbling sheep.
Dark is the hill with furrow'd brow,
Fresh turn'd beneath the riving plough.
Stripp'd of each straggling bramble bush,
Of tussock'd grass, and spiky rush,
All dark, and darkly spotted o'er
With turf-stacks, is the peaty moor.
Dark is the mountain, forest-crown'd;
The mantling copse; the hedgerow bound.
All brown, no more with pendants graced
Purple or pink, the heath-clad waste.
Brown, of its waving honours shorn,
The stubble of the golden corn.
With scant and withered herbage brown
The pastures of the upland down.
With gleams of fading verdure mixt,
Light shades of yellowish brown betwixt
Invest the lawn, whose wavy sweep
Is spotted with the fleecy sheep;
But darker still, and day by day
More dismal, shows its dun array.
Ev'n meads, of late so fresh and fair,
The winter's dusky livery wear;
Save where small patches intervene
Of lighter tint, or stripes of green
Mark where the limpid waters pass
In runnels through the living grass.
Like acts of kindness, which dispense
Refreshment to the languid sense,
And of their passage leave a trace
Imprinted on the cheerful face.
Fresh turn'd beneath the riving plough.
Stripp'd of each straggling bramble bush,
Of tussock'd grass, and spiky rush,
All dark, and darkly spotted o'er
With turf-stacks, is the peaty moor.
Dark is the mountain, forest-crown'd;
The mantling copse; the hedgerow bound.
All brown, no more with pendants graced
Purple or pink, the heath-clad waste.
Brown, of its waving honours shorn,
The stubble of the golden corn.
With scant and withered herbage brown
The pastures of the upland down.
With gleams of fading verdure mixt,
Light shades of yellowish brown betwixt
Invest the lawn, whose wavy sweep
Is spotted with the fleecy sheep;
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More dismal, shows its dun array.
Ev'n meads, of late so fresh and fair,
The winter's dusky livery wear;
Save where small patches intervene
Of lighter tint, or stripes of green
Mark where the limpid waters pass
In runnels through the living grass.
Like acts of kindness, which dispense
Refreshment to the languid sense,
And of their passage leave a trace
Imprinted on the cheerful face.
Changeableness of the weather. A variable day. A bright morning, followed by a stormy afternoon. A dark morning, followed by a clear afternoon. Fair but deceptive
How fitful is the season's power,
So prone to change, that scarce a day
Glides with consistent course away!
Now come by turns, from morn to night,
Masses of gloom, and glares of light;
Thin streaked clouds, and skies between
Of watry pale, or azure sheen;
The tranquil air, the awaken'd gale,
Borne on its wings the rushing hail;
The sleety show'r, that, as it falls,
Stripes the bright space beyond; the squalls,
That come and go with hasty fit;
Dark piles, with partial sunshine lit;
Resplendent radiance, murky gleams,
Thick rolling fogs, and misty steams.
459
Night's curtains; like transparent gauze,
Thin floating films suspended fly;
Red flushes tinge the morning sky,
And show, their partial openings through,
Imperfect gleams of pallid blue.
The vapours melt and disappear:
And o'er the vaulted hemisphere,
Behold, no spot or speck is seen,
To violate the pure serene,
Where his slope course begins to hold
On heaven's low arch the orb of gold.
Anon, thick gloom usurps the sway
Triumphant o'er the vanquish'd day:
Clouds, piled on gathering clouds, infold,
Impervious depth, that orb of gold;
And waft him to his early bower,
'Mid piping blasts, and sleety shower.
And now, o'ercast the morning lowers,
With clouds, and blasts, and sleety showers;
Dark is the heav'n's cerulean arch,
Where the great sun begins his march
In twilight dun: his rising globe
All muffled in a funeral robe;
Or, from behind a misty veil
Of drizzling moisture, glimmering pale;
Or overlaid, as with a crust,
Deep, dark, and red, of bloody rust.
Ev'n like the moon, eclips'd and dim,
When o'er her face from rim to rim
The earth's obstructing form has laid
A smokelike, dense, and dingy shade,
While not a cloud nor vapour mars
The brightness of the silver stars.
Anon, attain'd the midmost zone,
Rain, mist, and fog aside are thrown;
And, westering as his orb declines,
Forth with unsullied light he shines.
Thus the good man, whose path around
A morn of gloom and tempest frown'd,
Shines forth at last, erewhile distrest,
And sinks in peace and joy to rest.
With clouds, and blasts, and sleety showers;
Dark is the heav'n's cerulean arch,
Where the great sun begins his march
In twilight dun: his rising globe
All muffled in a funeral robe;
Or, from behind a misty veil
Of drizzling moisture, glimmering pale;
Or overlaid, as with a crust,
Deep, dark, and red, of bloody rust.
Ev'n like the moon, eclips'd and dim,
When o'er her face from rim to rim
460
A smokelike, dense, and dingy shade,
While not a cloud nor vapour mars
The brightness of the silver stars.
Anon, attain'd the midmost zone,
Rain, mist, and fog aside are thrown;
And, westering as his orb declines,
Forth with unsullied light he shines.
Thus the good man, whose path around
A morn of gloom and tempest frown'd,
Shines forth at last, erewhile distrest,
And sinks in peace and joy to rest.
'Tis pleasant then, perhaps the more
'Mid general waste, to see him pour
On all around his glory's streams;
In a full flood of golden gleams
As richly, as profusely dight,
And o'er a vault as pure and bright,
As when his furthest goal is won:
Mid winter's skies a summer sun.
Summer in aspect and in form,
But void of genial radiance warm,
Trust not too far the flattering ray!
He smiles, but trusted will betray,
Who fondly on his smile relies,
To chilling blasts and drenching skies!
'Mid general waste, to see him pour
On all around his glory's streams;
In a full flood of golden gleams
As richly, as profusely dight,
And o'er a vault as pure and bright,
As when his furthest goal is won:
Mid winter's skies a summer sun.
Summer in aspect and in form,
But void of genial radiance warm,
Trust not too far the flattering ray!
He smiles, but trusted will betray,
Who fondly on his smile relies,
To chilling blasts and drenching skies!
Barometer indicating fair weather. The winter favourable for astronomy. Principal Constellations visible. Sight of the Constellations, Milky Way, &c., its magnificence. The Planets. Proper effect of the spectacle
But if, slow-mounting day by day
The fluid silver hold its way,
And still the convex column show
Progressive still the weight below;
Hope then at length the firmer air
Aloft th' incumbent clouds' will bear.
The fluid silver hold its way,
And still the convex column show
Progressive still the weight below;
461
Aloft th' incumbent clouds' will bear.
Then when the sun departed yields
To paler lamps the etherial fields,
'Tis pleasant still, but ah! beware
The perils of the evening air!
'Tis pleasant, with inquiring look,
To read in God's celestial book,
A passing page, in winter most
Illumin'd with the starry host;
And those resplendent globes to note;
Which thro' yon sea of ether float.
From those which westward hasten down,
The jewels in the Boreal crown;
Thro' the bright lyre, and overhead
The swan with plumed wings outspread,
Chain'd to her rock that maiden fair,
And Perseus' hook, and Gorgon's hair,
Betwixt the silver-horned Ram,
And with the Kids their brighter Dam:
To those, that, on the eastern verge
Of heav'n, from ocean's gulph emerge,
The sev'n-fold sister lights, that deck
The Bull, and glisten on his neck,
But dare not all concenter'd vie
In brilliance with his sparkling eye;
And him, who rears his ample size,
To spread along the midnight skies
With gems his legs and shoulders graced,
His studded sword, and belted waist.
Nor want there those, that pour to north,
To south, their rival lustre forth:
Here the keen Eagle's upright sign,
And Dolphin's fourfold diamond, shine,
With that poetick horse; and there
The lady of the imperial chair,
And Cepheus' kingly crown, and roll'd
Around in many an ample fold
The crested Dragon's length of train;
And sweeping o'er the subject main,
And circling round the polar star
Itself unmov'd, the northern car.
To paler lamps the etherial fields,
'Tis pleasant still, but ah! beware
The perils of the evening air!
'Tis pleasant, with inquiring look,
To read in God's celestial book,
A passing page, in winter most
Illumin'd with the starry host;
And those resplendent globes to note;
Which thro' yon sea of ether float.
From those which westward hasten down,
The jewels in the Boreal crown;
Thro' the bright lyre, and overhead
The swan with plumed wings outspread,
Chain'd to her rock that maiden fair,
And Perseus' hook, and Gorgon's hair,
Betwixt the silver-horned Ram,
And with the Kids their brighter Dam:
To those, that, on the eastern verge
Of heav'n, from ocean's gulph emerge,
The sev'n-fold sister lights, that deck
The Bull, and glisten on his neck,
But dare not all concenter'd vie
In brilliance with his sparkling eye;
And him, who rears his ample size,
To spread along the midnight skies
With gems his legs and shoulders graced,
His studded sword, and belted waist.
Nor want there those, that pour to north,
To south, their rival lustre forth:
462
And Dolphin's fourfold diamond, shine,
With that poetick horse; and there
The lady of the imperial chair,
And Cepheus' kingly crown, and roll'd
Around in many an ample fold
The crested Dragon's length of train;
And sweeping o'er the subject main,
And circling round the polar star
Itself unmov'd, the northern car.
All these, and more, which art combines
For memory's aid in fancied signs:—
For, studious but to lead the eye
Thro' the seen wonders of the sky,
To mete of each, if scann'd aright,
The distance, bulk, and use, and light,
What moons round each revolve, what hue
Of changeful tint may each imbue,
I leave, by science' votaries done;
Each twinkling star a central sun,
A sun, to which could we compare
Our own, 'twere but a twinkling star:—
But these, as breaking on the sight,
They one by one unveil their light,
And thickly stud the evening robe,
Which winter hangs around the globe;
These starry signs; that milk-white band,
Wherewith the heavenly vault is spann'd,
Of lights so small, they mock the sight,
So bright, they shine with lustre white,
So thick, in such profusion sown,
They seem but one unbroken zone;
How do they fill the pensive sense
With thoughts of heav'n's magnificence!
Nor less those wandering fires, that rise
For memory's aid in fancied signs:—
For, studious but to lead the eye
Thro' the seen wonders of the sky,
To mete of each, if scann'd aright,
The distance, bulk, and use, and light,
What moons round each revolve, what hue
Of changeful tint may each imbue,
I leave, by science' votaries done;
Each twinkling star a central sun,
A sun, to which could we compare
Our own, 'twere but a twinkling star:—
But these, as breaking on the sight,
They one by one unveil their light,
And thickly stud the evening robe,
Which winter hangs around the globe;
These starry signs; that milk-white band,
Wherewith the heavenly vault is spann'd,
Of lights so small, they mock the sight,
So bright, they shine with lustre white,
So thick, in such profusion sown,
They seem but one unbroken zone;
463
With thoughts of heav'n's magnificence!
More brilliant to our earthly eyes,
As their unvaried course they go,
And but with borrow'd lustre glow.
If now the star of eve display
Her silver globe, of heav'n's array
Foremost and best: or Mars o'erspread
His dusky orb with sanguine red:
Or he of ampler disk, his boast
His own attendant four-fold host:
Or if with full-orb'd face the moon,
Now riding in her highest noon,
Reign empress, and her path pursue
In brightness 'mid the spotless blue.
O, may the sight of yon bright vault
My mind both humble and exalt!
Prompt me, with thoughts chastis'd to know
How feeble is my state, and low,
Yet not by Him of naught esteem'd,
Who made, preserv'd me, and redeem'd!
Prompt me, aloft to Him to soar,
And, more admir'd, to love him more;
Who made these creatures, as they are,
So great, so glorious, and so fair;
Yet deigns his lower works to scan,
And, most of all, to think of man!
464
Calmness and stillness of the air. Distant sounds, foreboding frost. A frosty morning. Congealed dew. Appearances on the windows: on the window-frames, cornices, &c.: on the hedges, copses, &c.
It soothes the hearing, as the eye,
The calmness of this cloudless sky.
And if, as taught by sages old,
Not without song their course they hold,
'Tis now might take the charmed ears
That musick of the rolling spheres.
The calmness of this cloudless sky.
And if, as taught by sages old,
Not without song their course they hold,
'Tis now might take the charmed ears
That musick of the rolling spheres.
Breathes not a breath: nor sound is hear
At hand, unless of lonely bird,
Which gently warns us, we molest
His sleep, then sinks again to rest.
At hand, unless of lonely bird,
Which gently warns us, we molest
His sleep, then sinks again to rest.
But, hark! how plainly sounds aloof
The brisk tread of the horse's hoof;
Or the belated peasant's shoon,
Home hastening by the evening moon;
Or wild curlew's alternate call
From the salt strand; or distant fall
Of water; or the sullen roar
Of billows raking on the shore;
Or baying dog from grange afar;
Or rattle of the wheeled car;
As echo from the harden'd ground
Wafts thro' the elastick air the sound,
Betokening to the curious ear
The reign of frost approaching near.
The brisk tread of the horse's hoof;
Or the belated peasant's shoon,
Home hastening by the evening moon;
Or wild curlew's alternate call
From the salt strand; or distant fall
Of water; or the sullen roar
Of billows raking on the shore;
Or baying dog from grange afar;
Or rattle of the wheeled car;
As echo from the harden'd ground
Wafts thro' the elastick air the sound,
Betokening to the curious ear
The reign of frost approaching near.
The morning dawns, and gives to view
By certain signs the token true.
By certain signs the token true.
Forth from his Boreal mountain hold,
The Spirit of congealing cold,
Where wrapt in lonely state he dwells,
'Mid frozen seas, and snowclad fells,
And everlasting ice-built piles,
Has wing'd his way to Britain's isles
On native gales: and, while we slept,
With soft and gelid pinion swept,
Light as the rapid swallows skim,
Each crisped water's crackling brim,
Pool, freshet, brook; and, as he flew,
Caught, ere it fell, the vapoury dew,
And hung the grass, the boughs, the leaves,
Each loftier roof's projecting eaves,
Each cottage thatch, each window'd bower,
With symptoms of his magick power.
The Spirit of congealing cold,
Where wrapt in lonely state he dwells,
'Mid frozen seas, and snowclad fells,
465
Has wing'd his way to Britain's isles
On native gales: and, while we slept,
With soft and gelid pinion swept,
Light as the rapid swallows skim,
Each crisped water's crackling brim,
Pool, freshet, brook; and, as he flew,
Caught, ere it fell, the vapoury dew,
And hung the grass, the boughs, the leaves,
Each loftier roof's projecting eaves,
Each cottage thatch, each window'd bower,
With symptoms of his magick power.
He breathes: and lo! are brought to pass
Strange wonders on the pictured glass,
Sportive and strange: that fancy's eye,
In that romantick imagery,
Amus'd may see, or think it sees,
The portraiture of plants and trees,
Which o'er some rugged rock incline;
The feather'd fern, the branching pine;
Here scatter'd tufts of sprouting moss,
Here wreaths which mimick flow'rs emboss,
Or yet unfolded buds; and there
Loose crests of undulating hair,
Plumes such as grace the soaring crane,
The ostrich' wing, the peacock's train.
Strange wonders on the pictured glass,
Sportive and strange: that fancy's eye,
In that romantick imagery,
Amus'd may see, or think it sees,
The portraiture of plants and trees,
Which o'er some rugged rock incline;
The feather'd fern, the branching pine;
Here scatter'd tufts of sprouting moss,
Here wreaths which mimick flow'rs emboss,
Or yet unfolded buds; and there
Loose crests of undulating hair,
Plumes such as grace the soaring crane,
The ostrich' wing, the peacock's train.
Along each window's transverse edge,
Along the roof's o'erhanging ledge,
And garden wall, whose bevell'd cope
Slants inward with descending slope,
Constrain'd its trickling course to stop
By hand unseen, the liquid drop
In many a lucid row depends;
And gathering more and more extends
Its taper length, as bright and clear
As pendant in a lady's ear.
Along the roof's o'erhanging ledge,
And garden wall, whose bevell'd cope
Slants inward with descending slope,
Constrain'd its trickling course to stop
By hand unseen, the liquid drop
466
And gathering more and more extends
Its taper length, as bright and clear
As pendant in a lady's ear.
O'er the bare hedge and coppice brown,
On shelter'd bank, and open down,
Or where the garden's living skreen
Of laurel shows its pleasant green;
The leaves, the twigs, the bending stems
Of tender herbage shine with gems
Of solid pearl; or what may seem,
As, waving in the orient beam
They round their sparkling rays diffuse
Of changeful light and varied hues,
The sea-green beryl's brilliant shine,
Or diamond from Golconda's mine.
On shelter'd bank, and open down,
Or where the garden's living skreen
Of laurel shows its pleasant green;
The leaves, the twigs, the bending stems
Of tender herbage shine with gems
Of solid pearl; or what may seem,
As, waving in the orient beam
They round their sparkling rays diffuse
Of changeful light and varied hues,
The sea-green beryl's brilliant shine,
Or diamond from Golconda's mine.
The winter day's walk. Its delightfulness. The mountain Brook. The Pool. The Wood. The Avenue. Its likeness to a Cathedral. Lincoln, York, Salisbury, Winchester Cathedral. Winchester College
The village road, the grassy sward;
Climb we the winding path, that guides
Around the mountain's craggy sides;
Roam the wide down, the breezy heath,
And freshness, health, and gladness breathe.
What than this wintry scene more fair?
What purer than this wintry air,
The frame to strengthen, and impart
New spirit to the buoyant heart?
And fail we not aside to look
In passing on the mountain brook,
467
By nature with the wild cascade.
Here, where the channel'd waters glide
Along the vale, on either side
Is edg'd the green o'erhanging grass
With fringe of silver-seeming glass.
Here, where o'er dam, or mill-wheel steep,
Amass'd the plunging waters leap,
Or ere the scatter'd spray escapes,
'Tis caught, and moulded into shapes
Fantastick by the wizard Frost:
Thin splinters, by each other crost,
And crusting o'er the slippery stones;
Ascending spires, inverted cones,
Pellucid store of crystal spars
Concrete, and radiated stars.
Then, where the spacious pool expands,
A pleasure new the sight demands,
As o'er the level smooth we pace
With feet unwet; and thro' its face
Translucent mark the bending reed
Beneath, and every floating weed,
And every pebbly stone below;
Clear as imbedded insects show,
Or leaves, within the amber tear,
Or as the Alpine crystal clear.
Nor fail we thro' the wood to stray,
Now that each branch, and bough, and spray,
Is cloth'd with rime of moisture frore:—
So thickly is that mantle hoar
Of rich embroidery o'er them thrown,
They seem almost transform'd to stone.
Chief in that long-drawn avenue,
Where those columnar trees you view
In ranks to answering trees oppos'd,
And overhead their branches clos'd
To form a fretted arch above;
Fancy might deem the pillar'd grove,
With arch, and fret, and groinings graced,
And nature's richest tracery laced,
A solemn temple fit to raise
High anthems to the Maker's praise.
Now that each branch, and bough, and spray,
Is cloth'd with rime of moisture frore:—
So thickly is that mantle hoar
468
They seem almost transform'd to stone.
Chief in that long-drawn avenue,
Where those columnar trees you view
In ranks to answering trees oppos'd,
And overhead their branches clos'd
To form a fretted arch above;
Fancy might deem the pillar'd grove,
With arch, and fret, and groinings graced,
And nature's richest tracery laced,
A solemn temple fit to raise
High anthems to the Maker's praise.
Such temples, art's sublimest work,
Majestick Lincoln, stately York,
Are ye! And thou of simpler mien,
Whose matchless spire, ascending seen
Far o'er that Druid-hallow'd plain,
Turns to the sun its gilded vane!
And such, whose long perspective range
Of mullion'd lights, with interchange
Of storied buttress, greets the sight
Of traveller from yon western height,
Thou, Winton!—Oft thy antique pile,
Thy length of nave, and high-roof'd aisle,
Long since with boyish step I paced;
And window, shrine, and pillar traced
With boyish eye.—Now far away
In age to thee the debt I pay
Of memory for my early time:
When in my boyhood's opening prime
That pinnacled and window'd tower,
Which crowns fair learnign's classick bower,
And shares with thee the rival claim
Of interest in thy Wykeham's name,
Enroll'd me in its stoled train;
And, stranger yet to care and pain,
Youth, health, and sport my footsteps led
By Itchin's banks, round Catherine's head.
Ev'n then, as now, I lov'd to share
The freshness of the frosty air,
Pleas'd to explore the incrusted wood,
Upland, and brook, and frozen flood;
But little apt, (for graver themes
Accord but ill with school-boys' dreams,)
Too little apt, with pleasure sought
To mingle heart-improving thought,
And, bee-like, from the fragrant flower
Cull sweets of salutary power!
Majestick Lincoln, stately York,
Are ye! And thou of simpler mien,
Whose matchless spire, ascending seen
Far o'er that Druid-hallow'd plain,
Turns to the sun its gilded vane!
And such, whose long perspective range
Of mullion'd lights, with interchange
Of storied buttress, greets the sight
Of traveller from yon western height,
Thou, Winton!—Oft thy antique pile,
Thy length of nave, and high-roof'd aisle,
Long since with boyish step I paced;
And window, shrine, and pillar traced
With boyish eye.—Now far away
In age to thee the debt I pay
Of memory for my early time:
When in my boyhood's opening prime
That pinnacled and window'd tower,
Which crowns fair learnign's classick bower,
469
Of interest in thy Wykeham's name,
Enroll'd me in its stoled train;
And, stranger yet to care and pain,
Youth, health, and sport my footsteps led
By Itchin's banks, round Catherine's head.
Ev'n then, as now, I lov'd to share
The freshness of the frosty air,
Pleas'd to explore the incrusted wood,
Upland, and brook, and frozen flood;
But little apt, (for graver themes
Accord but ill with school-boys' dreams,)
Too little apt, with pleasure sought
To mingle heart-improving thought,
And, bee-like, from the fragrant flower
Cull sweets of salutary power!
The Northern Lights. Their brilliancy and various shapes. Accompanying sounds. Superstitious fears concerning them. Effects of natural causes. How to be contemplated
Thus wrapt in musing as I roam,
The star of evening lights me home.
And now perchance may charm the eye
That marvel of the wintry sky,
Which the cold regions of the north
Pour with refulgent brightness forth,
Dark winter's child, of midnight born,
But lustrous as the summer morn.
Behold and wonder! Now the gleams
Of light in undulating streams
Quick-darting, quivering, sparkling, spread,
Streaking the blue with fiery red.
And now athwart heav'n's cope they go,
And span it with a burning bow,
From earth's west side to the eastern ridge
Built, zenith-ways, a flaming bridge.
And now with upward course aspire
Pillars and pyramids of fire;
From the dark clouds upshooting rays,
Like flames that from the furnace blaze;
And signs of battle in the air,
Spears as of blood, and shafts of war!
The star of evening lights me home.
And now perchance may charm the eye
That marvel of the wintry sky,
Which the cold regions of the north
Pour with refulgent brightness forth,
Dark winter's child, of midnight born,
But lustrous as the summer morn.
Behold and wonder! Now the gleams
Of light in undulating streams
Quick-darting, quivering, sparkling, spread,
Streaking the blue with fiery red.
And now athwart heav'n's cope they go,
And span it with a burning bow,
470
Built, zenith-ways, a flaming bridge.
And now with upward course aspire
Pillars and pyramids of fire;
From the dark clouds upshooting rays,
Like flames that from the furnace blaze;
And signs of battle in the air,
Spears as of blood, and shafts of war!
Nor want there 'mid the flashing stream,
Sounds which those warlike sights beseem:—
The noise of conflict, hurtling high;
The clang of arms; the trumpet's cry;
The war-steeds rushing to the fight;
The whistling of the arrowy flight;
Thick falling shafts, like dashing hail;
And banners rustling in the gale.
Sounds which those warlike sights beseem:—
The noise of conflict, hurtling high;
The clang of arms; the trumpet's cry;
The war-steeds rushing to the fight;
The whistling of the arrowy flight;
Thick falling shafts, like dashing hail;
And banners rustling in the gale.
Such signs with wonder, rais'd to awe
And thrilling fear, our fathers saw,
And portents deem'd of ills to come,
Impending wars and monarchs' doom
Presaging!—More instructed we
Symptoms of no strange portents see,
But of that hidden pow'r, that lies
Conceal'd in nature's mysteries;
But comes, obedient to her call,
The wonder and delight of all,
With eyes upon her works to gaze,
With hearts to feel, and tongues to praise.
Unwise, unless in nature's laws
We own and laud th' ordaining Cause,
Whose voice his future creatures heard,
Which gave them being, and conferr'd
On each, in his creative hour,
The guiding rule, the obsequious pow'r:
Who form'd the light, and bade it know
His sovereign will, that it might go,
And, compassing the vaulted sphere,
Return and say, “Behold me here !”
And thrilling fear, our fathers saw,
And portents deem'd of ills to come,
Impending wars and monarchs' doom
Presaging!—More instructed we
Symptoms of no strange portents see,
But of that hidden pow'r, that lies
Conceal'd in nature's mysteries;
But comes, obedient to her call,
The wonder and delight of all,
With eyes upon her works to gaze,
With hearts to feel, and tongues to praise.
Unwise, unless in nature's laws
We own and laud th' ordaining Cause,
Whose voice his future creatures heard,
Which gave them being, and conferr'd
471
The guiding rule, the obsequious pow'r:
Who form'd the light, and bade it know
His sovereign will, that it might go,
And, compassing the vaulted sphere,
Return and say, “Behold me here !”
Northern Lights forerunners of stormy weather. Snow on the mountains. Danger of elevated stations. Happiness of the lowly. Desolation more general. The Snow storm. Unceasing and thick. Descent of the flakes. Their appearance on the ground. Prominent objects at first discernible. Soon undistinguished. Vanishing of flowers and shrubs. Fences obliterated
May signs of future change descry:
In those bright lights presages plain
Of blustering winds, and snow, and rain.
And see, it comes, the threaten'd snow!
Behold, yon mountain's ridgy row,
Which shew'd last night its naked crown,
With rock or scatter'd heather brown,
Is white. The knolls that from it swell,
Each peak abrupt, each crevic'd dell,
That girds the elevated height,
With one continuous cloak is white.
The mountain's head has caught the storm:
Half down their less ambitious form
The sides as yet uncover'd show,
Groves, meadows, gardens: and below
The vale in peace reposes still,
Unswept beneath the sheltering hill.
Behold, yon mountain's ridgy row,
Which shew'd last night its naked crown,
With rock or scatter'd heather brown,
Is white. The knolls that from it swell,
Each peak abrupt, each crevic'd dell,
That girds the elevated height,
With one continuous cloak is white.
The mountain's head has caught the storm:
Half down their less ambitious form
The sides as yet uncover'd show,
Groves, meadows, gardens: and below
The vale in peace reposes still,
Unswept beneath the sheltering hill.
And is't not so with human life?
And when disaster's storms are rife,
Strike they not oft the imperial crown,
Or coronet, of high renown,
And eminent for rank or race,
The first in merit as in place;
While o'er the peasant's lowly cot,
And the mid station's modest lot,
Unfelt and innocent have past
The whelming load, the driving blast!
And when disaster's storms are rife,
Strike they not oft the imperial crown,
Or coronet, of high renown,
472
The first in merit as in place;
While o'er the peasant's lowly cot,
And the mid station's modest lot,
Unfelt and innocent have past
The whelming load, the driving blast!
Ah! little think they of the sword,
Suspended o'er the feastful board
On the frail tenure of a thread,
Which threats the monarch's crowned head;
Who on that crowned head askance
Cast a malignant envious glance;
Or, anxious for an ampler range,
Sigh for that dangerous state to change
Their pleasant homestead's calm recess,
Which comfort, peace, and safety bless!
And yet not seldom upon all
Suspended o'er the feastful board
On the frail tenure of a thread,
Which threats the monarch's crowned head;
Who on that crowned head askance
Cast a malignant envious glance;
Or, anxious for an ampler range,
Sigh for that dangerous state to change
Their pleasant homestead's calm recess,
Which comfort, peace, and safety bless!
Doth desolation's tempest fall;
Alike the high and lowly sweep
With ruthless pinion, and a heap
Of sorrow overwhelming bring
On subject, peasant, peer, and king:—
(Avert the suffering from our times,
All gracious God! nor for our crimes,
Or for our fathers', let thy power
On us and ours such vengeance shower!—)
Ev'n as the storm, which now has spent
Aloft its burden, and content
Forbears to load the humble vale;
May charge again the northern gale,
473
The implements of wintry war;
Nor linger on the mountain's crest,
But all its sides and feet invest:
Till feet, and sides, and lordly head
With one o'ermantling cloak be spread,
One general ruin, white and wan,
Obscuring all the works of man!
Again it comes! Throughout the sky,
Above, below, the snow-flakes fly.
Not now in hasty show'rs, that spend
Their eager force, and quickly end:
But ceaseless, as with stedfast aim
No sojourn of a day to claim.
Not now in storms of scatter'd sleet:
But dense, in one continuous sheet;
As if a veil, by magick flung,
Were o'er the face of nature hung;
Or one broad curtain round the sphere
Inclos'd her ample theatre.
Above, below, the snow-flakes fly.
Not now in hasty show'rs, that spend
Their eager force, and quickly end:
But ceaseless, as with stedfast aim
No sojourn of a day to claim.
Not now in storms of scatter'd sleet:
But dense, in one continuous sheet;
As if a veil, by magick flung,
Were o'er the face of nature hung;
Or one broad curtain round the sphere
Inclos'd her ample theatre.
Thick fall the floating flakes, as light,
As fine, as soft, as pure, as white,
As the wind-waver'd egret's crest;
Or the warm down that lines the breast
Of swans, or hyperborean geese,
By winter bleach'd; or like the fleece,
Fresh from the stream, that whitens o'er,
Heaps upon heaps, the shearing floor,
What time the jocund shepherds cull
From summer flocks their weight of wool.
As fine, as soft, as pure, as white,
As the wind-waver'd egret's crest;
Or the warm down that lines the breast
Of swans, or hyperborean geese,
By winter bleach'd; or like the fleece,
Fresh from the stream, that whitens o'er,
Heaps upon heaps, the shearing floor,
What time the jocund shepherds cull
From summer flocks their weight of wool.
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As white, and light, and soft as locks
Of wool, that clothe the unshorn flocks,
Descend the snow-flakes from the sky:
Descended on the earth they lie,
As spread in one continuous piece
O'er the broad floor the new-shorn fleece.
Of wool, that clothe the unshorn flocks,
Descend the snow-flakes from the sky:
Descended on the earth they lie,
As spread in one continuous piece
O'er the broad floor the new-shorn fleece.
First a thin sheet around is spread,
Like that the early hoar frosts shed,
A superficial covering, spare
And incomplete: thro' which, whate'er
Of roughness on earth's surface lies,
Protruded yet the sight descries.
The trench round clumps of verdure drawn,
The path that winds about the lawn,
On the mown turf the flow'r-bed's edge,
The new-turn'd fallow's furrow'd ledge,
Of larger bulk the pebbles strow'd
Unbroken on the beaten road,
The tussocks of the pastur'd leas,
The roots upstanding of the trees;
Each marks awhile its proper place:
And yet the inquiring eye may trace,
'Mid the white coat appearing still,
Tho' white itself, a little hill.
Like that the early hoar frosts shed,
A superficial covering, spare
And incomplete: thro' which, whate'er
Of roughness on earth's surface lies,
Protruded yet the sight descries.
The trench round clumps of verdure drawn,
The path that winds about the lawn,
On the mown turf the flow'r-bed's edge,
The new-turn'd fallow's furrow'd ledge,
Of larger bulk the pebbles strow'd
Unbroken on the beaten road,
The tussocks of the pastur'd leas,
The roots upstanding of the trees;
Each marks awhile its proper place:
And yet the inquiring eye may trace,
'Mid the white coat appearing still,
Tho' white itself, a little hill.
But soon more dense the cloak is grown,
Each trace of old distinction flown.
And now on road, or pathway led
Round verdant lawn, or flowery bed;
On furrow'd field, and tussock'd lea,
And root-heav'd herbage, nought you see,
But one white surface, smooth and plain,
One undistinguish'd broad champaign.
Each trace of old distinction flown.
And now on road, or pathway led
Round verdant lawn, or flowery bed;
On furrow'd field, and tussock'd lea,
And root-heav'd herbage, nought you see,
475
One undistinguish'd broad champaign.
Each flow'r, by autumn's hand uncropt
Or early winter, now o'ertopt,
Beneath the snow wreaths arching round
Its grave and winding sheet has found.
Or early winter, now o'ertopt,
Beneath the snow wreaths arching round
Its grave and winding sheet has found.
About each humble shrub below,
Step after step the gathering snow
From leaf to leaf, from bough to bough,
Creeps up with silent pace: and now
It meets the topmost spike above,
And wraps them in an ambient cove.
Step after step the gathering snow
From leaf to leaf, from bough to bough,
Creeps up with silent pace: and now
It meets the topmost spike above,
And wraps them in an ambient cove.
The dykes, that bordering lands divide,
The bank that skirts the sloping side,
Along the field the hedgerow bush,
Fringing the pool the waving rush,
Feel by degrees the snow-pile spread,
Ascend their sides, surmount their head;
Like island rocks, which wont to brave
The inroads of the circling wave;
But, when the full-orb'd moon presides,
From ridge to ridge, the surging tides,
From peak to loftier peak advance,
Till all is but the sea's expanse.
The bank that skirts the sloping side,
Along the field the hedgerow bush,
Fringing the pool the waving rush,
Feel by degrees the snow-pile spread,
Ascend their sides, surmount their head;
Like island rocks, which wont to brave
The inroads of the circling wave;
But, when the full-orb'd moon presides,
From ridge to ridge, the surging tides,
From peak to loftier peak advance,
Till all is but the sea's expanse.
Universal stillness. The Cattle. The Waggon on the road. Rook and Crow. The Poultry Yard. Small birds. Invitation to humanity and liberality
'Tis stillness all. No rustick sound
Disturbs the air's repose profound:
Unless the due repeated flail,
Or quick brush of the winnowing sail,
Give sign that toil is busy now;
Tho' high above the buried plough
Lies the piled heap; nor from the stall,
Obsequious to the herdman's call,
Go forth the kine and crowded sheep:
More pleas'd the well-stor'd crib to keep,
And homestead, than to hunt their feed
Precarious thro' the snowclad mead.
Disturbs the air's repose profound:
Unless the due repeated flail,
Or quick brush of the winnowing sail,
Give sign that toil is busy now;
Tho' high above the buried plough
476
Obsequious to the herdman's call,
Go forth the kine and crowded sheep:
More pleas'd the well-stor'd crib to keep,
And homestead, than to hunt their feed
Precarious thro' the snowclad mead.
The labouring team, that on the road
Creeps onward with its lumbering load;—
You see the toiling horses strain,
And slow course of the struggling wain:
But wheel with solid iron bound,
Nor the arm'd hoof that paws the ground,
You hear; as if they cautious trod,
With “felt,” the madman's vision, “shod !”
Creeps onward with its lumbering load;—
You see the toiling horses strain,
And slow course of the struggling wain:
But wheel with solid iron bound,
Nor the arm'd hoof that paws the ground,
You hear; as if they cautious trod,
With “felt,” the madman's vision, “shod !”
Hard by, the Rook and stalking Crow
Mark with their claws the indented snow,
Intent, for now the buried field
Nor grub, nor worm, nor grain can yield,
Intent to pick, as best they may,
Their breakfast from the travell'd way.
Mark with their claws the indented snow,
Intent, for now the buried field
Nor grub, nor worm, nor grain can yield,
Intent to pick, as best they may,
Their breakfast from the travell'd way.
The blithe sounds of the poultry yard
Are hush'd and mute: the tenants scar'd,
Confounded, by the glaring white,
Couch in their roosts with dumb affright,
Forestall the slow approach of eve,
Nor with the morn their refuge leave.
Are hush'd and mute: the tenants scar'd,
Confounded, by the glaring white,
Couch in their roosts with dumb affright,
Forestall the slow approach of eve,
Nor with the morn their refuge leave.
The little birds, that used to hop
Around, the budding spray to crop,
Or on the lurking insect prey;
Represt by famine, where are they?
Come, clear a space the window round;
And scatter on the gravelly ground,
Or well-swept sill, the refuse crumb.—
Soon will the pension'd stragglers come;
He first, the bird with ruddy breast,
And chaffinch with his light blue crest;
And sparrow brown, and apt to flit
On hasty wing the blue-crown'd tit,
Bright buntings with their yellow pens,
Green birds and sober-suited wrens.
Begrudge not, from your morning fare
For them a slender dole to spare!
They'll pay you by their sportive ways,
Their harmless mirth, their vernal lays,
The thought, that under God to you
Their sport, their joys, their song is due.
But chief begrudge not to expand
With wider scope the liberal hand
These wintry days; and from your store
Disperse your bounty to the poor!
Small meed have they in turn to show
But the heart's thanks: yet yours the glow
Of joy, for bliss to others given,
And hope that 'tis inroll'd in heaven!
Around, the budding spray to crop,
477
Represt by famine, where are they?
Come, clear a space the window round;
And scatter on the gravelly ground,
Or well-swept sill, the refuse crumb.—
Soon will the pension'd stragglers come;
He first, the bird with ruddy breast,
And chaffinch with his light blue crest;
And sparrow brown, and apt to flit
On hasty wing the blue-crown'd tit,
Bright buntings with their yellow pens,
Green birds and sober-suited wrens.
Begrudge not, from your morning fare
For them a slender dole to spare!
They'll pay you by their sportive ways,
Their harmless mirth, their vernal lays,
The thought, that under God to you
Their sport, their joys, their song is due.
But chief begrudge not to expand
With wider scope the liberal hand
These wintry days; and from your store
Disperse your bounty to the poor!
Small meed have they in turn to show
But the heart's thanks: yet yours the glow
Of joy, for bliss to others given,
And hope that 'tis inroll'd in heaven!
Danger of travelling. The trackless plain. The lost traveller. Drifting of the snow. Filling up of roads, lanes, &c. Woman buried in the snow. Her history admonitory
His journey o'er the lonely snow,
Where mile on mile extended lies,
Before his faint and failing eyes,
478
No track is there of custom'd wain;
Or horses' hoofs, his puzzled view
To guide; or peasant's nailed shoe;
Or sheep-dog's foot, that o'er the wold
Might lead him to the shepherd's fold.
So on he fares his doubtful way,
Perplex'd, and more and more astray:
So on he fares, with gazing blind,
With aching heart, and wilder'd mind:
So on he fares, with feet that keep
Weak hold and frail, till slumber creep
O'er his spent frame, in deadly league
With cold, and hunger, and fatigue:
And down, o'erspent, o'erwhelm'd, he sinks,
In wild delirious vision thinks
He sees at hand his cottage door,
And sleeps, to wake on earth no more!
Or where along the mountain's side,
Or cavern'd chalk-pit yawning wide,
Or hollow lane, in cloudy drift
Aloft the eddying whirlwinds lift
The snow. O'er gates, and fencing pales,
Banks, hedges, walls, the mass prevails.
Heap piled on heap, and wreath on wreath,
Ascending grows: while far beneath
Conceal'd the treacherous pit-fall lies,
Prepar'd to catch with dread surprise
The way-worn traveller, and inhume
Its victim in the unwonted tomb.
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Such piteous fate was hers, whose name
Has gain'd a melancholy fame,
Her Christmas hearth's enlivening cheer
Chang'd for the snow-wreath'd cavern drear.
Eight days within her lonely cell
Immur'd she lay; and twice the bell,
Which told the sabbath's holy time,
Smote on her ear with mournful chime.
O, then how heav'd her breast to join
The train, that sought God's sacred shrine:
“Ev'n as the hart doth pant to lave,
O'erhunted, in the cooling wave !”
And, O, what joy were hers, to raise
In God's own house the voice of praise:
“Ev'n as the dove delights to rest
Still in her own accustom'd nest !”
Has gain'd a melancholy fame,
Her Christmas hearth's enlivening cheer
Chang'd for the snow-wreath'd cavern drear.
Eight days within her lonely cell
Immur'd she lay; and twice the bell,
Which told the sabbath's holy time,
Smote on her ear with mournful chime.
O, then how heav'd her breast to join
The train, that sought God's sacred shrine:
“Ev'n as the hart doth pant to lave,
O'erhunted, in the cooling wave !”
And, O, what joy were hers, to raise
In God's own house the voice of praise:
“Ev'n as the dove delights to rest
Still in her own accustom'd nest !”
O, had she erst, in safety's hour,
Confess'd religion's guiding pow'r;
God's house each former sabbath sought,
And practis'd what his precepts taught:
Not now perhaps her lot had been
The prison dark, the anguish keen,
Eight tedious days, eight weary nights,
Estrang'd from life, and life's delights,
To feel in cheerless, hopeless gloom,
Alive the horrors of the tomb.
And, render'd back to light and air,
Not hers the lot had been to bear
A feeble, mutilated frame,
Diseas'd, emaciate, helpless, lame;
A spectacle of woe to lie
A few brief months, and pine, and die.
Watch! when the sparkling wine is up,
And flames, and dances in the cup ;
Lest unawares that unknown day
Come and arrest you! “Watch and pray !”—
Confess'd religion's guiding pow'r;
God's house each former sabbath sought,
And practis'd what his precepts taught:
Not now perhaps her lot had been
The prison dark, the anguish keen,
Eight tedious days, eight weary nights,
Estrang'd from life, and life's delights,
To feel in cheerless, hopeless gloom,
Alive the horrors of the tomb.
And, render'd back to light and air,
Not hers the lot had been to bear
A feeble, mutilated frame,
Diseas'd, emaciate, helpless, lame;
480
A few brief months, and pine, and die.
Watch! when the sparkling wine is up,
And flames, and dances in the cup ;
Lest unawares that unknown day
Come and arrest you! “Watch and pray !”—
Conclusion. The Winter Solstice. Proposed subject completed. The Author's Thanksgiving. The Author's Prayer
The Year is closed! The tale is done!
For see, again the wintry sun
His southmost goal of rest attains;
Again from yon etherial plains
His rays with faintest lustre glow,
And span them with the briefest bow.
For see, again the wintry sun
His southmost goal of rest attains;
Again from yon etherial plains
His rays with faintest lustre glow,
And span them with the briefest bow.
Since last he form'd that briefest arch,
We've track'd him on his monthly march;
Seen him with equal course divide
The morning and the evening tide;
Seen him from yon north-western height
Scarce yield the reign to short-liv'd night;
Seen him give waning day to bear
Again with night but equal share;
Till now again his lowest place
He holds, and runs his shortest race.
And still, with every monthly change
And period of the yearly range,
What chiefest nature's works present
To please the eye, the ear, the scent,
To clothe the earth, to soar the heaven,
Studious of nature's charms I've striven
With faithful but poetick pen
To offer to the mental ken:
Not deeply vers'd in nature's store,
Nor vain of scientifick lore,
Nor anxious for poetick fame;
But prompt to honour nature's claim
To love from all her progeny,
Whose ears can hear, whose eyes can see,
Whose hearts, not made of stone or steel,
Her simple charms can taste and feel:—
Careful meanwhile from things of sense
To draw improving musings; thence
The mind to wholesome thought to move,
To warm the heart to virtue's love,
But most, both mind and heart to lead
Above, and stimulate to read,
Howe'er the living Spirit dwell
Beyond all sight invisible,
God in his lower works exprest,
The first, the last, the greatest, best!
We've track'd him on his monthly march;
Seen him with equal course divide
The morning and the evening tide;
Seen him from yon north-western height
Scarce yield the reign to short-liv'd night;
Seen him give waning day to bear
Again with night but equal share;
Till now again his lowest place
He holds, and runs his shortest race.
And still, with every monthly change
And period of the yearly range,
What chiefest nature's works present
To please the eye, the ear, the scent,
To clothe the earth, to soar the heaven,
Studious of nature's charms I've striven
481
To offer to the mental ken:
Not deeply vers'd in nature's store,
Nor vain of scientifick lore,
Nor anxious for poetick fame;
But prompt to honour nature's claim
To love from all her progeny,
Whose ears can hear, whose eyes can see,
Whose hearts, not made of stone or steel,
Her simple charms can taste and feel:—
Careful meanwhile from things of sense
To draw improving musings; thence
The mind to wholesome thought to move,
To warm the heart to virtue's love,
But most, both mind and heart to lead
Above, and stimulate to read,
Howe'er the living Spirit dwell
Beyond all sight invisible,
God in his lower works exprest,
The first, the last, the greatest, best!
Clos'd is the year! The tale is done!
O Thou, of whom, when first begun,
My strain a gleam of light implor'd,
O nature's universal Lord,
Accept my homage, while I bend
And crave thy blessing at its end!
O Thou, of whom, when first begun,
My strain a gleam of light implor'd,
O nature's universal Lord,
Accept my homage, while I bend
And crave thy blessing at its end!
But first for health, from day to day
Enabling me at will to stray
Month after month abroad, and muse
On each, and mark its varying views;—
For health of mind, to take delight
In nature, and what met my sight
And hearing, to collect, combine;
And thence in tissued web to twine
Of verse continuous, through the year,
The aspects of our changeful sphere;—
For soothing thoughts, which thence relief
Have minister'd to many a grief,
And many a rising sigh represt;—
For many a pleasure, which the breast
Alone in sweet retirement proved,
Or haply shared with those it loved;—
For these attendants on my theme,
No idle visionary dream,
But solid blessings kindly dealt
By Thee, by me as mercies felt:
Receive my grateful spirit's vow,
The heart's best incense, while I bow
With thanks before thy mercy-seat,
And thus thy further grace intreat.
Enabling me at will to stray
Month after month abroad, and muse
On each, and mark its varying views;—
482
In nature, and what met my sight
And hearing, to collect, combine;
And thence in tissued web to twine
Of verse continuous, through the year,
The aspects of our changeful sphere;—
For soothing thoughts, which thence relief
Have minister'd to many a grief,
And many a rising sigh represt;—
For many a pleasure, which the breast
Alone in sweet retirement proved,
Or haply shared with those it loved;—
For these attendants on my theme,
No idle visionary dream,
But solid blessings kindly dealt
By Thee, by me as mercies felt:
Receive my grateful spirit's vow,
The heart's best incense, while I bow
With thanks before thy mercy-seat,
And thus thy further grace intreat.
If thou this world so good and fair
Hast made, that we depictur'd there
Thy Power and Deity may know,
O bless the verse, which fain would show
To those, who cast their eyes around,
What pleasurable things abound,
Things before all in common placed,
Which high and low alike may taste,
On this fair earth, thy pleasant gift;
And then the mental sight would lift,
There stamp'd thy attributes to see,
And in thy works acknowledge Thee!
Hast made, that we depictur'd there
Thy Power and Deity may know,
O bless the verse, which fain would show
To those, who cast their eyes around,
What pleasurable things abound,
Things before all in common placed,
Which high and low alike may taste,
On this fair earth, thy pleasant gift;
And then the mental sight would lift,
There stamp'd thy attributes to see,
And in thy works acknowledge Thee!
483
If aught herein of taint be found,
Thy truth to mar, thy honour wound;
If aught to warp the mind or heart
From wisdom's, virtue's, better part:
(For who of all his words is sure?—)
Keep thou the reader's bosom pure,
Clean from his sight the mischief blot,
And on the involuntary spot
With eye of tender pity look,
Nor mark it in thy judgment book!
Thy truth to mar, thy honour wound;
If aught to warp the mind or heart
From wisdom's, virtue's, better part:
(For who of all his words is sure?—)
Keep thou the reader's bosom pure,
Clean from his sight the mischief blot,
And on the involuntary spot
With eye of tender pity look,
Nor mark it in thy judgment book!
But if (thy servant's meek design!)
Pure be each thought, and word, and line;
If fit, to thine own truth referr'd,
To bear the touchstone of thy word;
If fit to lead the excursive sense
In paths of blameless innocence;
If fit the safe abode to show,
Where heartfelt harmless pleasures grow;
If fit improvement's task to blend
With pleasure, and the heart to mend;
If fit to train and aid the soul
To feel religion's mild control;
But most of all, and what may most
Be deem'd man's triumph and his boast,
If fit to serve thee, and ensue,
Lord, to thy name the honour due:—
Then for these rhimes make thou a way,
These musings to the heart convey
Of those whose native taste delights
In rural sounds and rural sights;
Of those, by whom with joy are scann'd
The wonders of thy plastick hand!
Hence prompt them more and more to own
Thy pow'r in nature's volume shown!
Hence prompt them more and more to look
And read thee in thy written book!
And, since from Thee alone descend,
Thee “the beginning and the end,”
Gifts good and precious from above,
Father of lights and Fount of love!
If aught of pleasure or of use
These unambitious strains produce,
The glory, Lord, be only thine;
Thy own approving favour mine!
Pure be each thought, and word, and line;
If fit, to thine own truth referr'd,
To bear the touchstone of thy word;
If fit to lead the excursive sense
In paths of blameless innocence;
If fit the safe abode to show,
Where heartfelt harmless pleasures grow;
If fit improvement's task to blend
With pleasure, and the heart to mend;
If fit to train and aid the soul
To feel religion's mild control;
But most of all, and what may most
Be deem'd man's triumph and his boast,
If fit to serve thee, and ensue,
Lord, to thy name the honour due:—
Then for these rhimes make thou a way,
These musings to the heart convey
Of those whose native taste delights
In rural sounds and rural sights;
Of those, by whom with joy are scann'd
The wonders of thy plastick hand!
484
Thy pow'r in nature's volume shown!
Hence prompt them more and more to look
And read thee in thy written book!
And, since from Thee alone descend,
Thee “the beginning and the end,”
Gifts good and precious from above,
Father of lights and Fount of love!
If aught of pleasure or of use
These unambitious strains produce,
The glory, Lord, be only thine;
Thy own approving favour mine!
| The British Months | |