Which Providence assigns them. One alone, At one wide waft, and o'er the hapless The red-breast, sacred to the household Hid in the hollow of two neighbouring Wisely regardful of th' embroiling sky, In joyless fields, and thorny thickets, leaves The billowy tempest whelms; till, upward The valley to a shining mountain swells, His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Tipt with a wreath, high-curling in the man His annual visit. Half afraid, he first Against the window beats; then, brisk, alights On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er Eyes all the smiling family askance, Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs wilds sky. As thus the snows arise; and foul and All winter drives along the darkened air; Disastered stands; sees other hills ascend, Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless Nor finds the river, nor the forest hid Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on And more unpitying men, the garden Stung with the thoughts of home; the Eye the bleak heaven, and next the glisten- In many a vain attempt. How sinks his be kind, Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge His tufted cottage rising through the snow. He meets the roughness of the middle waste, Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens With food at will; lodge them below the storm, Far from the track, and blest abode of man; And watch them strict for from the bil- While round him night resistless closes Then throng the busy shapes into his Save me from folly, vanity, and vice, mind, Of covered pits, unfathomably deep, From every low pursuit! and feed my soul A dire descent! beyond the power of With knowledge, conscious peace, and frost ; Of faithless bogs; of precipices huge, Smoothed up with snow; and, what is land, unknown, What water, of the still unfrozen spring, In the loose marsh or solitary lake, Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils. These check his fearful steps; and down he sinks Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift, Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death, Mixed with the tender anguish Nature shoots virtue pure; Sacred, substantial, never-failing bliss! A HYMN. These, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Through the wrung bosom of the dying Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and man, Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfined, And spreads a common feast for all that lives. In Winter awful Thou! with clouds and storms Father of light and life! thou Good Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest Supreme ! rolled, wing O teach me what is good! teach me Thy- Majestic darkness! On the whirlwind's self! Riding sublime, Thou bidd'st the world His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye tremadore, bling rills; And humblest nature with Thy northern And let me catch it as I muse along. divine, Deep-felt, in these appear! a simple train, Such beauty and beneficence combined; Along the vale; and thou majestic main, Or bids you roar, or bids your roaring fall. In mingled clouds to Him, whose sun exalts, pencil paints. But wandering oft, with rude unconscious Whose breath perfumes you, and whose gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty Ye forests bend, ye harvests wave to Him: Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, hand That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres; Works in the secret deep; shoots steam ing thence As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.. The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth spring; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth, And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of Nature, attend! join, every living soul Breathe soft, whose spirit in your freshness Oh! talk of Him in solitary glooms, Fills the brown shade with a religious awe. asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, round, On nature write with every beam His praise. The thunder rolls: be hushed the prostrate world, While cloud to cloud returns the solemn Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks low, Ye valleys, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns, And His unsuffering kingdom yet will come. The impetuous song, and say from whom Ye woodlands all, awake; a boundless Burst from the groves; and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds! sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night His praise. Ye chief, for whom the whole creation smiles; At once the head, the heart, the tongue of all, Crown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast, Assembled men to the deep organ join The long resounding voice, oft breaking clear, At solemn pauses, through the swelling base; And, as each mingling flame increases each, In one united ardour rise to heaven. Or if you rather choose the rural shade, And find a fane in every sacred grove, There let the shepherd's lute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of seasons as they roll. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer In the void waste as in the city full; And where He vital breathes, there must be joy. When even at ast the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful will obey; there with new powers, Will rising wonders sing. I cannot go LIBERTY. [ANCIENT GREECE.] Hail Nature's utmost boast! unrivalled My fairest reign! where every power benign Conspir'd to blow the flower of humankind, And lavished all that genius can inspire. Mountains, and streams, where verse spontaneous flowed; Whence deemed by wondering men the seat of gods, And still the mountains and the streams of song. All that boon Nature could luxuriant pour Of high materials, and my restless arts 2 G Frame into finished life. How many states, And clustering towns, and monuments of fame, For that they lived entire, and even for that The tender mother urged her son to die. Of softer genius, but not less intent And scenes of glorious deeds, in little To seize the palm of empire, Athens rose. Where, with bright marbles big and future pomp, Hymettus spread, amid the scented sky, Of active arts, and animated arms. Of ruin, hurried by the charm of speech, grown. Solon, at last, their mild restorer rose : Aliayed the tempest; to the calm of laws Reduced the settling whole; and with the weight Which the two senates to the public lent, As with an anchor fixed the driving state. Nor was my forming care to these confined. For emulation through the whole I poured, Noble contention who should most excel In government well-poised, adjusted best To public weal: in countries cultured high; In ornamented towns, where order reigns, Free social life, and polished manners fair: In exercise, and arms; arms only drawn For common Greece, to quell the Persian pride: In moral science, and in graceful arts. Hence as for glory peacefully they strove, The prize grew greater, and the prize of all. |
