Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn; 'Twas thus, by the glare of false science betrayed, That leads, to bewilder; that dazzles, to blind; My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade, Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. "O pity, great Father of Light," then I cried, 66 Thy creature, who fain would not wander from Thee; Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride; From doubt and from darkness Thou only canst free!" And darkness and doubt are now flying away, So breaks on the traveller, faint, and astray, The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending, And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom! On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." WILLIAM COWPER was the son of Dr. Cowper, Rector of Berkhampstead, and chaplain to the king. He was born November 15th, 1731. It is said that his mother was descended by four different descents from King Henry III., while his paternal grandfather was a younger brother of Lord Chancellor Cowper, the first earl. Deprived of the tender care of his mother, at a very early age he was sent to a boarding-shool, but was bullied to so great an extent by an overbearing schoolfellow, that he was removed, and sent to Westminster; on leaving which, after keeping the usual course, he commenced the study of the law. For this purpose he entered the office of an attorney, where the future Lord Chancellor Thurlow was his fellow clerk. Cowper, however, did not find the law to his taste, and took more delight in associating with Colman, and other wits of the day. He contributed a few papers to the lighter magazines, and so continued a desultory and aimless life, until after the death of his father. He was already thirty-one years of age, and slenderly provided for, when he was offered by one of his relatives the office of clerk of the journals to the House of Lords. His constitutional timidity overcame him while endeavouring to prepare himself for the duties of the office; his reason gave way, and he attempted suicide. His life after this was an alternation of religious melancholy, with times of sound and even genial mental energy. He was confined for some time in a mad-house at St. Alban's, and then went to Huntingdon, where he became intimately acquainted with the Unwins. The romantic story of his attachment to these people, with the episode after the Rev. Mr. Unwin's death, in 1767, when they removed to Olney at the instance of the Rev. John Newton; of Lady Austen's temporary residence at Olney; of Mrs. Unwin's pique; of the ballad of Johnny Gilpin, and of the "Task" imposed by Lady Austen, are familiar to most of our readers. One of Cowper's latest works was a translation of Homer, which he executed in blank verse, at least in a creditable manner. Cowper and Mrs. Unwin, some time previous to 1791, removed to Weston, about a mile from Olney, where they were visited by Lady Hesketh, cousin of the poet, and a woman remarkable for her gaiety and fascination. She proved an antidote to severer thoughts and associations, and in his letters to her, he appears in his happiest moods. Here also be became acquainted with the Throckmortons. Soon after this, however, his distressing malady again siezed him, and continued with very brief lucid intervals until his death. In 1795 he removed with Mrs. Unwin into Norfolk, where the latter died in December 1796. The poet never recovered the shock caused by her death, but lingered for three years in the deepest despondency and terror until he was released by death in the spring of 1800. PRAISE FOR THE FOUNTAIN OPENED. There is a fountain filled with blood The dying thief rejoiced to sco Dear dying Lamb! thy precious blood Till all the ransomed Church of God Ere since, by faith, I saw the stream |