By genius fired, such ardent genius tamed By cool judicious art; that, in the strife, Ali-beauteous Nature fears to be outdone. And there, O PITT, thy country's early boast, There let me sit beneath the sheltered slopes, Or in that †Temple where, in future times, Thou well shaft merit a distinguished name;
And, with thy converse blest, catch the last smiles 1050 Of Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods.
While there with thee th' enchanted round I walk, The regulated wild, gay Fancy then
Will tread in thought the groves of Attic Land; Will from thy standard taste refine her own, Correct her pencil to the purest truth Of nature, or, the unimpassioned shades Forsaking, raise it to the human mind. Or if hereafter she, with juster hand,
Shall draw the tragic scene, instruct her thou, To mark the varied movements of the heart; What every decent character requires, And every passion speaks : O thro' her strain Breath thy pathetic eloquence! that moulds The attentive senate, charms, persuades, exalts; Of honest zeal the indignant lightning throws, And shakes corruption on her venal throne. While thus we talk, and through Elysian Vales Delighted rove, perhaps a sigh escapes:
What pity, COBHAM, thou thy verdant files
Of ordered trees should'st here inglorious range,
Instead of squadrons flaming o'er the field,
And long embattled hosts! when the proud foe,
The Temple of Virtue in Stowe Gardens.
The faithless vain disturber of mankind, Insulting Gaul, has roused the world to war;
When keen, once more, within their bounds to press Those polished robbers, those ambitious slaves,
The British Youth would hail thy wise command, Thy tempered ardour, and thy veteran skill.
The western sun withdraws the shortened day; 1080 And humid evening, gliding o'er the sky,
In her chill progress, to the ground condensed The vapour throws. Where creeping waters ooze, Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind, Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along
The dusky mantled lawn. Mean while the moon Full-orbed, and breaking through the scattered clouds, Shews her broad visage in the crimsoned east. Turned to the sun direct, her spotted disk,
Where mountains rise, umbrageous dales descend, 1090 And caverns deep, as optic tube descries, A smaller earth, gives us his blaze again, Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day.
Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop, Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime.
Wide the pale deluge floats, and streaming mild O'er the skied mountain to the shadowy vale, While rocks and floods reflect the quivering gleam, The whole air whitens with the boundless tide Of silver radiance, trembling round the world.
But when half blotted from the sky her light, Fainting, permits the starry fires to burn
With keener lustre through the depth of heaven; Or near extinct her deadened orb appears, And scarce appears, of sickly beamless white; Oft in this season, silent from the north
A blaze of meteors shoots : ensweeping first The lower skies, they all at once converge High to the crown of heaven, and all at once Relapsing quick, as quickly reascend, And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew, All ether coursing in a maze of light.
From look to look, contagious through the crowd, The panic runs, and into wondrous shapes The appearance throws: armies in meet array, Thronged with aërial spears, and steeds of fire; Till the long lines of full extended war
In bleeding fight commixt, the sanguine flood Rolls a broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven. As thus they scan the visionary scene,
Incontinent; and busy frenzy talks
On all sides swells the superstitious din,
Of blood and battle; cities overturned;
And late at night in swallowing earthquake sunk, Or hideous wrapt in fierce ascending flame;
Of sallow famine, inundation, storm;
Of pestilence, and every great distress;
Empires subversed, when ruling fate has struck
The unalterable hour even Nature's self
Is deemed to totter on the brink of time. Not so the Man of philosophic eye,
And inspect sage; the waving brightness he Curious surveys, inquisitive to know
The causes, and materials, yet unfixed,
Of this appearance beautiful and new.
Now black, and deep, the night begins to fall,
A shade immense. Sunk in the quenching gloom, Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth.
Order confounded lies; all beauty void;
Distinction lost; and gay variety
One universal blot: such the fair power
Of light, to kindle and create the whole.
Drear is the state of the benighted wretch,
Who then, bewildered, wanders thro' the dark, Full of pale fancies, and chimeras huge;
Nor visited by one directive ray,
From cottage streaming, or from airy hall. Perhaps impatient as he stumbles on,
Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue,
The wild-fire scatters round, or gathered trails A length of flame deceitful o'er the moss : Whither decoyed by the fantastic blaze, Now lost and now renewed, he sinks absorpt, Rider and horse, amid the miry gulph: While still, from day to day, his pining wife And plaintive children his return await, In wild conjecture lost. At other times, Sent by the better Genius of the night, Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane, The meteor sits; and shews the narrow path, That winding leads thro' pits of death, or else Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford. The lengthened night elapsed, the morning shines Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright,
Unfolding fair the last autumnal day.
And now the mounting sun dispels the fog;
The rigid hoar-frost melts before his beam; And hung on every spray, on every blade Of grass, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round.
Ah see where robbed, and murdered in that pit 1170 Lies the still heaving hive! at evening snatched,
Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, And fixed o'er sulphur : while, not dreaming ill, The happy people, in their waxen cells,
Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes Of temperance, for Winter poor; rejoiced
To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores. Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends;
And, used to milder scents, the tender race,
By thousands, tumble from their honeyed domes, Convolved, and agonizing in the dust.
And was it then for this you roamed the Spring, Intent from flower to flower? for this you toiled, Ceaseless the burning Summer-heats away? For this in Autumn searched the blooming waste, Nor lost one sunny gleam? for this sad fate? O Man! tyrannic lord! how long, how long, Shall prostrate Nature groan beneath your rage, Awaiting renovation? When obliged, Must you destroy? Of their ambrosial food Can you not borrow; and, in just return, Afford them shelter from the wintry winds; Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own Again regale them on some smiling day? See where the stony bottom of their town Looks desolate, and wild; with here and there A helpless number, who the ruined state Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. Thus a proud city, populous and rich,
Full of the works of peace, and high in joy,
At theatre or feast, or sunk in sleep,
(As late, Palermo, was thy fate ) iş seized
By some dread earthquake, and convulsive hurled
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