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That press'd the beach, and, hasty to depart,
Look'd to the sea for safety? They are gone!
Gone with the refluent wave into the deep!
A prince with half his people!

WATERFALL.

Thomson.

SMOOTH to the shelving brink, a copious flood
Rolls fair and placid; where, collected all,
In one impetuous torrent, down the steep
It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.
At first, an azure sheet, it rushes broad;
Then whitening by degrees as prone it falls,
And from the loud resounding rocks below,
Dash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft
A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower.
Nor can the tortur'd wave here find repose;
But, raging still amid the shaggy rocks,
Now flashes o'er the scatter'd fragments, now
Aslant the hollow channel rapid darts,
And falling fast from gradual slope to slope,
With wild infracted course, and lessen'd roar,
It gains a safer bed, and steals at last
Along the mazes of the quiet vale.

Thomson.

THE THUNDER STORM.

'Tis listening fear and dumb amazement all; When to the startl'd eye the sudden glance

Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud,
And following slower, in explosion vast,
The Thunder raises his tremendous voice.
At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts
And opens wider; shuts and opens, still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.
Down comes a deluge of sonorous hail

Or prone descending rain: Wide rent, the clouds
Pour a whole flood; and yet, its flame unquench'd,
The unconquerable lightning struggles through,
Ragged and fierce, or in red whirling balls,
And fires the mountains with redoubled rage.
Black from the stroke, above, the smouldering pine,
Stands a sad shatter'd trunk; and stretch'd below,
A lifeless group, the blasted cattle sleep.

Here the soft flocks, with that same harmless look
They wore alive; and ruminating still,

In Fancy's eye, there lie the frowning bull

And ox half rais'd. Struck on the castled cliff,
The venerable tower and spiry fane

Resign their aged pride. The gloomy woods
Start at the flash, and from their deep recess

Wide flaming out, their trembling inmates shake.

Amid Caernarvon's mountains rages loud
The repercussive roar; with mighty crash,
Into the flashing deep, from the rude rocks
Of Penmanmaur heap'd hideous to the sky,
Tumble the smitten cliffs; and Snowdon's peak
Dissolving, instant yields his wintry load.
Far seen, the heights of healthy Cheviot blaze,
And Thulé bellows through her utmost isles.

ANIMALS IN SOLITUDE.

Thomson.

ALONG those lonely regions, where retired
From little scenes of art, great nature dwells
In awful solitude, and nought is seen,

But the wild herds that own no master's stall,
Prodigious rivers roll their fattening seas;
On whose luxurious herbage, half conceal'd,
Like a fall'n cedar, far diffus'd his train,
Cas'd in green scales, the crocodile extends.
The flood disparts: behold, in plaited mail
Behemoth rears his head. Glanc'd from his side,
The darted steel in idle shivers flies.

He, fearless walks the plain, or seeks the hills;
Where as he crops his varied fare, the herds,
In wid'ning circle round forget their food,
And at the harmless stranger wondering gaze.
Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that cast
Their ample shade o'er Niger's yellow stream,
And where the Ganges rolls his sacred wave;

Or 'mid the central depth of black'ning woods,
High-rais'd in solemn theatre around,
Leans the huge elephant, wisest of brutes!
Oh truly wise! with gentle might endow'd;
Though powerful not destructive! here he sees
Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth,
And empires rise and fall. Regardless he,
Of what the never-resting race of men
Project; thrice happy! could he 'scape their guile,
Who mine, from cruel avarice, his steps;

Or with his towery grandeur swell their state,
The pride of kings! or else his strength pervert;
And bid him rage amid the mortal fray,
Astonish'd at the madness of mankind.
Lo! the green serpent, from his dark abode,
Which, e'en imagination fears to tread;
At noon, forth issuing, gathers up his train
In orbs immense, then darting out anew,
Seeks the refreshing fount; by which diffus'd,
He throws his folds; and while, with threat'ning
tongue,

And deathful jaws, erect, the monster curls
His flaming crest; all other thirst, appall'd,
Or shivering flies, or check'd, at distance stands,
Nor dares approach. But still more direful, he,
The small close-lurking minister of fate,

Whose high concocted venom through the veins,
A rapid light'ning darts, arresting swift
The vital current. The tiger darting fierce,
Impetuous, on the prey his glance has doom'd.

The lively-shining leopard, speckled o'er
With many a spot, the beauty of the waste;
And, scorning all the taming arts of man,
The keen hyena, fellest of the fell.

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From all the boundless furnace of the sky,
And the wide glittering waste of burning sand,
A suffocating wind the pilgrim smites

With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil,
Son of the desert! e'en the camel feels,
Shot through his withered heart, the fiery blast.
Or from the black-red ether, bursting broad,
Sallies the sudden whirlwind. Straight the sands,
Commov'd around, in gathering eddies play,
Nearer and nearer still they darkling come,
Till with the general all-involving storm
Swept up, the whole continuous wilds arise.
Beneath descending hills, the caravan
Is buried deep. In Cairo's crowded streets,
The impatient merchant, wondering, waits in vain,
And Mecca saddens at the long delay.

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