To sooth the throbbing passions into peace; 971 976 Thus solitary, and in pensive guise, Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead, And through the sadden'd grove, where scarce is heard One dying strain, to cheer the woodman's toil. Haply some widow'd songster pours his plaint, Far, in faint warblings, through the tawny copse. While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks, And each wild throat, whose artless strains so late Swell'd all the music of the swarming shades, Robb'd of their tuneful souls, now shivering sit On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock; With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes, And nought save chattering discord in their note. 980 O, let not, aim'd from some inhuman eye, The gun the music of the coming year Destroy; and harmless, unsuspecting harm, Lay the weak tribes a miserable prey, In mingled murder, fluttering on the ground! The pale-descending year, yet pleasing still, A gentler mood inspires; for now the leaf Incessant rustles from the mournful grove; Oft startling such as, studious, walk below, And slowly circles through the waving air. But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams; 985 990 Till, choked and matted with the dreary shower, Roll wide the wither'd waste, and whistle bleak. 995 Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields; And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race Their sunny robes resign. E'en what remain'd And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around 1000 He comes! he comes! in every breeze the Power Of philosophic Melancholy comes! His near approach the sudden-starting tear, The glowing cheek, the mild dejected air, 1005 The soften'd feature, and the beating heart, Pierced deep with many a virtuous pang, declare. O'er all the soul his sacred influence breathes! Inflames imagination; through the breast Infuses every tenderness; and far 1010 Beyond dim earth exalts the swelling thought. 1015 The love of Nature, unconfined, and, chief, Of human race; the large ambitious wish, To make them bless'd; the sigh for suffering worth Lost in obscurity; the noble scorn 1021 Of tyrant pride; the fearless great resolve; 1025 Oh! bear me then to vast embowering shades, 1030 1036 Or is this gloom too much? Then lead, ye powers, That o'er the garden and the rural seat Preside, which shining through the cheerful land In countless numbers bless'd Britannia sees; O, lead me to the wide extended walks, The fair majestic paradise of Stowe!* 10-10 Not Persian Cyrus on Ionia's shore E'er saw such silvan scenes; such various art By genius fired, such ardent genius tamed 1045 By cool judicious art; that, in the strife Will tread in thought the groves of attic land; Will from thy standard taste refine her own, 1051 1055 Shall draw the tragic scene, instruct her, thou, 1060 To mark the varied movements of the heart, What every decent character requires, And every passion speaks: O, through her strain 'The' attentive senate, charms, persuades, exalts, 1065 *The seat of Lord Conham. The Temple of Virtue in Stowe Gardens, 1070 1075 Insulting Gaul, has roused the world to war; 1081 The western sun withdraws the shorten'd day; And humid Evening, gliding o'er the sky, Jo her chill progress, to the ground condensed The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooze, Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind, Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along The dusky mantled lawn. Meanwhile the Moon Full-orb'd, and breaking through the scatter'd clouds, Shows her broad visage in the crimson east. Turn'd to the sun direct, her spotted disk, 1085 Where nountains rise, umbrageous dales descend, 1091 A smaller earth, gives us his blaze again, 1095 1100 Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop, 1105 1110 From look to look, contagious through the crowd, The panic runs, and into wondrous shapes The' appearance throws: armies in meet array, 1115 Throng'd with aerial spears and steeds of fire, Till the long lines of full extended war Ir. bleeding fight commix'd, the sanguine flood Rolls a broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven. On all sides swells the superstitious din, 1120 And late at night in swallowing earthquake sunk, 1125 Of pestilence, and every great distress; Empires subversed, when ruling fate has struck The' unalterable hour: e'en Nature's self Is deem'd to totter on the brink of time. 1130 And inspect sage; the waving brightness he The causes and materials, yet unfix'd, Of this appearance beautiful and new. 1135 Now black and deep the night begins to fall, A shade immense. Sunk in the quenching gloom, Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth. Distinction lost; and gay variety 1140 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, bewilder'd, wanders through the dark, 1145 Nor visited by one directive ray, From cottage streaming or from airy hall. Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue, The wildfire scatters round, or gather'd trails 1150 |