Wide-stretching from the hall, in whose kind haunt The hospitable genius lingers still,
To where the broken landscape, by degrees Ascending, roughens into rigid hills;
O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise.
Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year, Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round;
Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth; The shining moisture swells into her eyes In brighter flow; her wishing bosom heaves With palpitations wild; kind tumults seize Her veins, aud all her yielding soul is love. From the keen gaze her lover turns away, Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick With sighing languishment. Ah, then, ye fair! Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts: Dare not the infectious sigh; the pleading look, Downcast and low, in meek submission drest, But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue, Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, Gain on your purpos'd will. Nor in the bower, Where woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch, While Evening draws her crimson curtains round, Trust your soft minutes with betraying man.
And let the aspiring youth beware of love, Of the smooth glance beware; for 'tis too late, When on his heart the torrent softness pours. Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame Dissolves in air away; while the fond soul, Rapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, Still paints th'illusive form; the kindling grace; Th' enticing smile; the modest-seeming eye, Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying heaven, Lurk searchless cunning, cruelty, and death: And still false warbling in his cheated ear, Her siren-voice, enchanting, draws him on To guileful shores, and meads of fatal joy. E'en present, in the very lap of love Inglorious laid; while music flows around, Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours;
Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears Her snaky crest: a quick-returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart, where honour still, And great design, against th' oppressive load Of luxury, by fits, inpatient heave.
But absent, what fantastic woes, arous'd, Rage in each thought, by restless musing fed, Chill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of life' Neglected fortune flies; and sliding swift, Prone into ruin, fall his scorn'd affairs.
'Tis nought but gloom around; the darken'd sun Loses his light. The rosy-bosom'd Spring To weeping fancy pines: and yon bright arch, Contracted, bends into a dusky vault.
All nature fades extinct; and she alone Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought, Fills every sense, and pants in every vein. Books are but formal dulness, tedious friends: And sad amid the social bands he sits, From his tongue Lonely and unattentive. The unfinish'd period falls; while borne away On swelling thought his wafted spirit flies
To the vain bosom of his distant fair; And leaves the semblance of a lover, fix'd In melancholy site, with head declin'd, And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts, Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs To glimmering shades, and sympathetic glooms; Where the dun umbrage o'er the falling stream Romantic, hangs; there through the pensive dusk Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation lost, Indulging all to love; or on the bank, Thrown amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. Thus in soft anguish be consumes the day; Nor quits his deep retirement, till the moon Peeps through the chambers of the fleecy east, Enlighten'd by degrees, and in her train Leads on the gentle hours; then forth he walks, Beneath the trembling languish of her beam, With soften'd soul, and woos the bird of eve To mingle woes with his; or, while the world,
And all the sons of Care, lie hush'd in sleep, Associates with the midnight shadows drear; And, sighing to the lonely taper, pours His idly-tortur'd heart into the page, Meant for the moving messenger of love; Where rapture burns on rapture, every line With rising frenzy fir'd. But if on bed Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies; All night he tosses, nor the balmy power In any posture finds; till the gray morn Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch, Exanimate by love; and then perhaps Exhausted nature sinks a while to rest, Still interrupted by distracted dreams, That o'er the sick imagination rise,
And in black colours paint the mimic scene. Oft with th' enchantress of his soul he talks; Sometimes in crowds distress'd; or if retir'd To secret winding flow'r-enwoven bowers, Far from the dull impertinence of man, Just as he, credulous, his endless cares Begins to lose in blind oblivious love,
Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how, Through forests huge, and long untravell'd heaths With desolation brown, he wanders waste,
In night and tempest wrapt; or shrinks aghast, Back from the bending precipice; or wades The turbid stream below, and strives to reach The farther shore; where, succourless and sad, She with extended arms his aid implores; But strives in vain: borne by th' outrageous flood To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave, Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy sinks. These are the charming agonies of love, Whose misery delights. But through the heart Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 'Tis then delightful misery no more, But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, Corroding every thought, and blasting all Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then, Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, Farewell! ye gleamings of departed peace,
Shine out your last; the yellow-tinging plague Internal vision taints, and in a night
Of livid gloom imagination wraps.
Ah! then, instead of love-enliven'd cheeks, Of sunny features; and of ardent eyes With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, Suffus'd, and glaring with untender fire; A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek, Where the whole poison'd soul malignant sits, And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms For which he melts in fondness, eat him up With fervent anguish, and consuming rage. In vain reproaches lend their idle aid, Deceitful pride, and resolution frail, Giving false peace a moment.
Afresh, her beauties on his busy thought, Her first endearments, twining round the soul, With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. Strait the fierce storm involves his mind anew, Flames through the nerves, and boils along the veins; While anxious doubt distracts the tortur'd heart: For even the sad assurance of his fears
Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth, Whom love deludes into his thorny wilds, Through flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life Of fever'd rapture, or of cruel care;
His brightest aims extinguish'd all, and all His lively moments running down to waste. But happy they, the happiest of their kind, Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind,
That binds their peace; but harmony itself,
Attuning all their passions into love:
Where friendship full exerts her softest power,
Perfect esteem, enliven'd by desire
Ineffable and sympathy of soul;
Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will
With boundless confidence; for nought but love
Can answer love, and render bliss secure. Let him, ungen'rous, who, alone intent To bless himself, from sordid parents buys The loathing virgin, in eternal care, Well-merited, consume his nights and days; Let barbarous nations, whose inhuman love Is wild desire, fierce as the suns they feel; Let eastern tyrants, from the light of heaven Seclude their bosom slaves, meanly possess'd Of a mere lifeless violated forin:
While those whom love cements in holy faith, And equal transport, free as Nature live, Disdaining fear. What is the world to them, Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all, Who in each other clasp whatever fair High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish? Something than beauty dearer, should they look Or on the mind, or mind-illumin'd face; Truth, goodness, honcur, harmony, and love, The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven. Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, And mingles both their graces. By degrees, The human blossom blows; and every day, Soft as it rolls along, shews some new charm, The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. Then infant reason grows apace, and calls For the kind hand of an assiduous care. Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast. Oh speak the joy! ye, whom the sudden tear Surprises often, while you look around, And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss, All various nature pressing on the heart: An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven. These are the matchless joys of virtuous love; And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus,
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