Pale Cynthia, mounted on her silver car, [round; O'er heaven's blue concave drives her nightly See a torn abbey, wrapp'd in gloom, appear

Scatter'd in wild confusion o'er the ground. Here ravenous Ruin lifts her wasteful hands O'er briar-grown grots and bramble-shaded graves;

Safe from her wrath one weeping marble stands, O'er which the mournful yew its umbrage waves. Ope, ope thy ponderous jaws, thou friendly tomb, Close the sad deathful scene, and shroud me in thy womb!

Forth issuing lovely from the gloomy shade,

Which stately pines in phalanx deep compose, Fair above mortals comes a smiling maid,

To soothe my sighs, and cheer my heartfelt woes. Here nursed by Contemplation, matron sage,

Where with mute Solitude she loves to dwell, In truth's fair lore she form'd her early age, And trimm'd the midnight lamp in lonely cell; Here learn'd clear reason's heaven-sprung light to raise [rious blaze. O'er passion's low-born mists or pleasure's spuHer azure mantle flows with easy grace,

Nor fashion's folds constrain, nor custom's tye; An optic tube she bears, each sphere to trace That rolls its rapid orbit round the sky: Yet not to heaven alone her views confined;

A clear reflecting plane she holds, to show The various movements of the reasoning mind,

How strange ideas link, and habits grow, Passion's fierce impulse, will's free power to scan, To paint the featured soul, and mark the internal

man.

"Whence these sad strains,' said she, ' of plaintive

grief,

Which pierce the sleep-closed ear of peaceful rest; Oft has the sickening mind here found relief,

Here quell'd the throbbing tumults of the breast: Lift up thy leaden eyes to yon fair cloud,

Where moon-sprung* Iris blends her beauteous I lift them soon, and as I gazing stood,

[dyes.'

The fleeting phantom in a moment flies; Where beam'd the gilded arch of gaudy hue [view. Frowns the dark louring cloud, all gloomy to the 'Life's emblem fit,' said I,' that roscid bow! The gay illusive pageant of an hour

To real resemblance tricks her airy show,

Then sinks in night's dull arms, and is no more!' 'Ah! fool,' said she, though now to fancy's sight The violet pale, the blushing red decays, Though now no fainted cloud reflects the light, Nor drops prismatic break the falling rays, Yet still the colours live, though none appear, Glow in the darting beam that gilds yon crystal sphere.

'Then let not Fancy with her vagrant blaze
Mislead in trackless paths of wild deceit;
On Reason's steady lamp still ardent gaze;
Led by her sober light to Truth's retreat.
Though wondering Ignorance sees each form decay,
The breathless bird, bare trunk, and shrivel'd
New forms successive catch the vital ray, [flower;
Sing their wild notes, or smile the' allotted hour;
And search creation's ample circuit round, [found.
Though modes of being change, all life's immortal

A rainbow formed by the rays of the moon at night: an object often visible, though from its languid colours not often observable.

See the slow reptile groveling o'er the green, That trails through slimy paths its cumbrous load, Start in new beauty from the lowly scene,

And wing with fluttering pride the ethereal road; Burst their shell prisons see the feather'd kind, Where in dark durance pent awhile they lie, Dispread their painted plumage to the wind, Brush the brisk air, swift shooting through the sky,

Hail with their choral hymns the new-born day, Distend their joy-swoln breasts, and carol the sweet lay.

See man, through varied periods fix'd by fate,
Ascend perfection's scale by slow degree;
The plantlike foetus quit its senseless state,
And helpless hang sweet-smiling on the knee;
Soon outward objects steal into the brain,

Next prattling childhood lisps with mimic air, Then memory links her fleet ideal train,

And sober reason rises to compare;

The full grown breast some manly passion warms, It pants for glory's meed, or beats to love's alarms: Then say, since Nature's high behest appears,

That living forms should change of being prove, In which new joy the novel scene endears,

New objects rise to please, new wings to move; Since man, too, taught by sage experience, knows His frame revolving treads life's varying stage, That the man-plant first vegetating grows,

Then sense directs, then reason rules in age; Say is it strange, should death's all-dreaded hour Waft to some unknown scenes, or wake some untried power?

The wise Creator wrapp'd in fleshy veil

The ray divine, the pure ethereal mate; Though worn by age the brittle fabric fail,

The smiling soul survives the frowns of fate: Each circling year, each quick revolving day Touches with mouldering tooth thy flitting frame, With furtive slight repairs the' unseen decay;

For ever changing, yet in change the same; Oft hast thou dropp'd unhurt thy mortal part, Dare the grim terror then, nor dread his guiltless

dart.

The twinkling eye, whose various humour drown'd, Takes in soft nest the inverted form behind, The listening ears that catch the waving sound, Are but mere organs of the feeling mind: External matter thus can lend its aid,

And distant shapes with foreign power supply; Thus the long tube by Galileo made

Brings home the wonders of the peopled sky: The power percipient then feels no decay, Though blind the tube, and darkness blot the visual ray.

When lock'd in short suspense by sleep's soft power In temporary death the senses lie,

When solemn silence reigns at midnight hour, Deaf the dull ear, and closed the curtain'd eye; Objects of sense, each conscious sense asleep, With lively image strike the wakeful soul, Some frowning rock that threats the foaming deep, Or wood-hung vale, where streams meandering

roll,

Some long lost friend's returning voice you hear, Clasp the life-pictured shade, and drop the pleasing tear.

Each outward organ, as ideas rise,

Gives easy entrance to the motley train; Reflection calm, with retrospective eyes

Surveys her treasures in the formful brain; Though Death relentless shed his baleful dew, In Lethe dip each form-conveying power, Unhurt Reflection may her themes pursue,

Smile at the ruin, safe amidst her store; Without one sense's aid in life's low vale, Fancy can furnish joys, and reason lift her scale:

Thus the lone lover in the pensive shade

In day-dreams rapt of soft ecstatic bliss, Pursues in thought the visionary maid,

Feasts on the fancied smile and favour'd kiss: Thus the young poet at the close of day, Led by the magic of some fairy song,

Through the dun umbrage winds his heedless way, Nor hears the babbling brook that brawls along : Thus deathless Newton, deaf to nature's cries, Would measure time and space, and travel round the skies.

When just expiring hangs life's trembling light, And fell disease strikes deep the deadly dart, Reason and memory burn with ardour bright, And generous passions warm the throbbing heart; Oft will the vigorous soul in life's last stage With keenest relish taste pure mental joys: Since the fierce efforts of distemper's rage

Nor bates her vigour, nor her power destroys, Say, shall her lustre death itself impair?

When in high noon she rides, then sets in dark despair?