The Subject propofed. Addrefs to the Earl of WILMINGTON. First Approach of Winter. According to the natural Courfe of the Seafon, various Storms defcribed. Rain. Wind. Snow. The driving of the Snows: A Man perifbing among them; whence Reflections on the Wants and Miferies of Human Life. The Wolves defcending from the Alps and Apennines. A Winter-Evening defcribed: as fpent by Philofophers; by the Country People; in the City. Froft. A View of Winter within the polar Circle. A Thaw. The whole concluding with moral Reflections on a future State.
WINTE R.
SEE, WINTER Comes, to rule the vary'd Year,
Sullen, and fad, with all his rifing Train;
Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be these my Theme, Thefe, that exalt the Soul to folemn Thought,
And heavenly Mufing. Welcome, kindred Glooms! 5
Cogenial Horrors, hail! with frequent Foot,
Pleas'd have I, in my chearful Morn of Life,
When nurs'd by careless Solitude I liv'd,
And fung of Nature with unceafing 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 feen the deep fermenting Tempest brew'd,
In the grim Evening-Sky. Thus pafs'd the Time,
Till thro' the lucid Chambers of the South
Look'd out the joyous SPRING, look'd out and fmil'd.
To Thee, the Patron of this firft Effay,
The Mufe, O WILMINGTON ! renews her Song.
Since has the rounded the revolving Year:
Skim'd the gay Spring; on Eagle-Pinions borne,
Attempted thro the Summer-Blaze to rife;
Then fwept o'er Autumn with the fhadowy Gale;
And now among the Wintry Clouds again,
Roll'd in the doubling Storm, fhe tries to foar
To fwell her Note with all the rufhing Winds;
To fuit her founding Cadence to the Floods;
As is her Theme, her Numbers wildly great:
Thrice happy! could fhe fill thy judging Ear
With bold Defcription, and with manly Thought.
Nor art thou skill'd in awful Schemes alone,
And how to make a mighty People thrive :
But equal Goodnefs, found Integrity,
A firm unshaken uncorrupted Soul
Amid a fliding Age, and burning ftrong,
Not vainly blazing for thy Country's Weal,
A fteady Spirit regularly free;
Thefe, each exalting each, the Statesman light
Into the Patriot; Thefe, the publick Hope
And Eye to thee converting, bid the Muse
Record what Envy dares not Flattery call.
Now when the chearlefs Empire of the Sky.
To Capricorn the Centaur-Archer yields,
And fierce Aquarius, ftains th' inverted Year;
Hung o'er the fartheft Verge of Heaven, the Sun
Scarce fpreads o'er Ether the dejected Day.
Faint are his Gleams, and ineffectual shoot-
His ftruggling Rays, in horizontal Lines,
Thro the thick Air; as cloath'd in cloudy Storm,
Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the Southern Sky;
And, foon-defcending, to the long dark Night,
Wide-shading All, the proftrate World refigns.
Nor is the Night unwifh'd; while vital Heat,
Light, Life, and Joy, the dubious Day forfake.
Mean-time, in fable Cincture, Shadows vaft,
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 oppreffive o'er the World,
Thro Nature shedding Influence malign,
And roufes 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 furrow'd Land,
Fresh from the Plow, the dun difcolour'd Flocks,
Untended spreading, crop the wholesome Root.
Along the Woods, along the moorish Fens,
Sighs the fad Genius of the coming Storm;
And up among the loofe disjointed Cliffs,
And fractur'd Mountains wild, the brawling Brook
And Cave, prefageful, fend a hollow Moan,
Refounding long in liftening Fancy's Ear.
THEN Comes the Father of the Tempest forth, Wrapt in black Glooms. Firft joyless Rains obfcure
Drive thro the mingling Skies with Vapour foul;
Dash on the Mountain's Brow, and shake the Woods,
That grumbling wave below. Th' unfightly Plain 75
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 th`untafted Fields return,
And ask, with meaning Lowe, their wonted Stalls,
Or ruminate in the contiguous Shade.
Thither the houshold feathery People croud,
The crefted Cock, with all his female Train,
Penfive, and dripping; while the Cottage-Hind
Hangs o'er th' enlivening Blaze, and taleful there
Recounts his fimple Frolick: much he talks,
And much he laughs, nor recks the Storm that blows Without, and rattles on his humble Roof.
WIDE O'er the Brim, with many a Torrent swell'd, And the mix'd Ruin of its Banks o'erspread, At last the rous'd-up River pours along : Refiftlefs, roaring, dreadful, down it comes, From the rude Mountain, and the moffy Wild, Tumbling thro Rocks abrupt, and founding far; Then o'er the fanded Valley floating spreads,
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