Or high in air, or fecret in the fhade,
Rejoicing warbles wild his mattin hymn.
While beafts of chace, by secret inftinct mov'd,
Scud o'er the lawns, and, plunging int night,
In brake, or cavern, flumber out the day.
Invited by the chearful morn abroad,

See, from his humble roof, the good Man comes
To tafte her freshness, and improve her rife
In holy mufing. Rapture in his eye,
And kneeling wonder speak his filent foul,
With gratitude o'erflowing, and with praise!
Now Industry is up. The village pours
Her useful fons abroad to various toil :
The labourer here, with every inftrument
Of future plenty arm'd; and there the swain,
A rural king amid his subject-flocks,
Whose bleatings wake the vocal hills afar.
The traveller, too, purfues his early road,
Among the dews of morn. Aurora calls:
And all the living landscape moves around.
But fee, the flush'd horizon flames intenfe
With vivid red, in rich profufion ftream'd
O'er heaven's pure arch. At once the clouds affume
Their gayeft liveries; these with filvery beams
Fring'd lovely, fplendid thofe in liquid gold:
And speak their fovereign's ftate. He comes, behold!
Fountain of light and colour, warmth and life!
The King of Glory! round his head divine,
Diffufive fhowers of radiance circling flow,
As o'er the Indian wave up-rifing fair

He

He looks abroad on Nature, and invests,
Where-e'er his univerfal eye furveys,

Her ample bofom, earth, air, sea, and sky,
In one bright robe, with heavenly tinctures gay.
From this hoar hill, that climbs above the plain,
Half-way up heaven ambitious, brown with woods
Of broadeft shade, and terrass'd round with walks,
Winding and wild, that deep embowering rife,
Maze above maze, through all its shelter'd height;
From hence, th' aërial concave without cloud,
Translucent, and in pureft azure drest;

The boundless scene beneath, hill, dale, and plain;
The precipice abrupt; the diftant deep,

Whofe fhores remurmur to the founding furge;
The nearest foreft in wide circuit spread,
Solemn recefs, whose solitary walks,

Fair Truth and Wisdom love; the bordering lawn,
With flocks and herds enrich'd; the daify'd vale;
The river's cryftal, and the meadows

Grateful diverfity! allure the eye

green

Abroad, to rove amid ten thousand charms.
These scenes, where every Virtue, every Mufe
Delighted range, ferene the foul, and lift,
Borne on devotion's wing, beyond the pole,
To highest heaven her thought; to Nature's God,
First fource of all things lovely, all things good,
Eternal, infinite! before whose throne

Sits fovereign Bounty, and through heaven and earth
Careless diffufes plenitude of bliss.

Him all things own: he speaks, and it is day.
Obedient to his nod, alternate night

Obfcures the world.

The feasons at his call

Succeed in train, and lead the year around.

While reason thus and rapture fill the heart; Friends of mankind, good angels, hovering near, Their holy influence, deep-infufing, lend; And in ftill whispers, foft as Zephyr's breath When scarce the green leaf trembles, through her powers Infpire new vigour, purer light supply,

And kindle every virtue into flame.

Celestial intercourfe! fuperior blifs,

Which vice ne'er knew! health of th' enliven'd foul,
And heaven on earth begun! Thus ever fix'd
In folitude, may I, obfcurely fafe,

Deceive mankind, and fteal through life along,
As flides the foot of Time, unmark'd, unknown!
Exalted to his noon the fervent fun,
Full-blazing o'er the blue immense, burns out
With fierce effulgence. Now th' embowering maze
Of vale fequefter'd, or the fir-crown'd fide
Of airy mountain, whence with lucid lapse
Falls many a dew-fed ftream, invites the step
Of mufing poet, and fecures repofe
To weary pilgrim. In the flood of day,
Oppreffive brightness deluging the world,
Sick Nature pants: and from the cleaving earth
Light vapours, undulating through the air,
Contagious fly, engendering dire disease,

Red

Red plague, and fever; or, in fogs aloft
Condensing, fhew a ruffling tempeft nigh.

And fee, exhaling from th' atlantic furge,
Wild world of waters, diftant clouds afcend
In vapoury confluence, deepening cloud on cloud:
Then rolling dufk along to eaft and north,
As the blaft bears them on his humid wing,
Draw total night and tempeft o'er the noon!
Lo, bird and beaft, imprefs'd by Nature's hand
In homeward warnings through each feeling nerve,
Hafte from the hour of terror and of ftorm.
The Thunder now, from forth his cloudy shrine,
Amid conflicting elements, where Dread
And Death attend, the servants of his nod,
First, in deaf murmurs, founds the deep alarm,
Heard from afar, awakening awful thought.
Dumb fadnefs fills this nether world: the gloom
With double blackness lours; the tempeft fwells,
And expectation shakes the heart of man.

Where yonder clouds in dufky depth extend
Broad o'er the fouth; fermenting in their womb,
Pregnant with fate, the fiery tempeft swells,
Sulphureous fteam and nitrous, late exhal'd
From mine or unctuous foil: and lo, at once,
Forth darted in flant ftream, the ruddy flash,
Quick-glancing, spreads a moment's horrid day.
Again it flames expanfive; fheets the sky,
Wide and more wide, with mournful light around,
On all fides burning; now the face of things
Difclofing; fwallowed now in tenfold night.

Again the thunder's voice, with pealing roar,
From cloud to cloud continuous roll'd along,
Amazing burfts! Air, fea, and fhore refound.
Horror fits fhuddering in the felon-breast,
And feels the deathful flash before it flies:
Each fleeping fin, excited, ftarts to view;
And all is ftorm within. The Murderer, pale
With confcious guilt, though hid in deepest fhade,
Hears and flies wild, purfued by all his fears:
And fees the bleeding fhadow of the Slain
Rife hideous, glaring on him through the gloom!
Hark! through th' aërial vault, the ftorm inflam'd
Comes nearer, hoarsely loud, abrupt and fierce,
Peal hurl❜d on peal inceffant, burst on burst:
Torn from its bafe, as if the general frame
Were tumbling into chaos-There it fell,
With whirlwind-wing, in red diffusion flash'd.
Destruction marks its path.. Yon riven oak
Is hid in fmouldering fires: furpriz'd beneath,
The traveller ill-omen'd proftrate falls,

A livid corfe. Yon cottage flames to heaven:
And in its fartheft cell, to which the hour,
All-horrible, had fped their steps, behold!
The parent breathlefs lies; her orphan-babes
Shuddering and speechless round-O Power divine!
Whofe will, unerring, points the bolt of fate!
Thy hand, though terrible, shall man decide
If punishment, or mercy, dealt the blow?
Appeas'd at laft, the tumult of the skies
Subfides, the thunder's falling roar is hush'd:
VOL. LXIII.
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