Published by Hamilton, near Gray's Inn Gate, Helborn Dec. 1.1792.
SEE, WINTER Comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train;
Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be the semy theme; These! that exalt the soul to solemn thought,
And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms! 5 Congenial horrors, hail! with frequent foot, Pleas'd have I, in my cheerful morn of life, When nurs'd by careless solitude I liv'd, And sung of Nature with unceasing joy,
Pleas'd have I wander'd thro' your rough domain; 10 Trod the pure virgin-snows, myself as pure; Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burst; Or seen the deep fermenting tempest brew'd,
In the grim evening sky. Thus pass'd the time, Till thro' the lucid chambers of the south Look'd out the joyous SPRING, look'd out, and smil❜d. To thee, the patron of her first essay, The Muse, O WILMINGTON! renews her song. Since has she rounded the revolving year: Skim'd the gay Spring; on eagle-pinions borne, Attempted thro' the Summer-blaze to rise; Then swept o'er Autumn with the shadowy gale; And now among the wintry clouds again, Roll'd in the doubling storm, she tries to soar; To swell her note with all the rushing winds To suit her sounding cadence to the floods; As is her theme, her numbers wildly great: Thrice happy! could she fill thy judging ear With bold description, and with manly thought. NOR art thou skill'd in awful schemes alone, And how to make a mighty people thrive;
But equal goodness, sound integrity, A firm unshaken uncorrupted soul
Amid a sliding age, and burning strong, Not vainly blazing for the country's weal,
A steady spirit regularly free;
These, each exalting each, the statesman light Into the patriot; these, the public hope And eye to thee converting, bid the Muse Record what envy dares not flattery call.
Now when the cheerless empire of the sky
To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields, And fierce Aquarius stains th' inverted year; Hung o'er the farthest verge of heaven, the sun
Scarce spreads thro' ether the dejected day.
Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot
His struggling rays, in horizontal lines,
Thro' the thick air; as cloth'd in cloudy storm,
Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky;
And, soon-descending, to the long dark night,
Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns. Nor is the night unwish'd; while vital heat, Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forsake. Mean-time, in sable cincture, shadows vast, Deep-ting'd and damp, and congregated clouds, And all the vapoury turbulence of heaven, Involve the face of things. Thus Winter falls, A heavy gloom oppressive o'er the world;
Thro' Nature shedding influence malign, And rouses up the seeds of dark disease.
THE Soul of Man dies in him, loathing life, And black with more than melancholy views. The cattle droop; and o'er the furrowed land Fresh from the plough, the dun discolour'd flocks, Untended spreading, crop the wholesome root.
Along the woods, along the moorish fens, Sighs the sad Genius of the coming storm;
And up among the loose disjointed cliffs,
And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawling brook And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan,
Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear.
THEN Comes the father of the tempest forth, Wrapt in black glooms. First joyless rains obscure, Drive thro' the mingling skies with vapour foul; Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the woods, That grumbling wave below. The unsightly plain 76 Lies a brown deluge; as the low-bent clouds Pour flood on flood, yet unexhausted still Combine, and deepening into night, shut up The day's fair face. The wanderers of heaven, Each to his home, retire; save those that love To take their pastime in the troubled air ; Or skimming flutter round the dimply pool. The cattle from the untasted fields return,
And ask, with meaning lowe, their wonted stalls,
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