I am not pent in darkness; rather say,
If not too bold, in darkness I'm embower'd.
Delightful gloom! the clustering thoughts around Spontaneous rise, and blossom in the shade;
But droop by day, and sicken in the sun.
And see, Day's amiable sister sends
Her invitation in the softest rays
Of mitigated lustre ; courts the sight,
Which suffers from her tyrant brother's blaze.
Night grants us the full freedom of the skies,
Nor rudely reprimands the lifted eye.
Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe
Which gives those venerable scenes full weight.
One sun by day; by night ten thousand shine,
And yield a glorious proof of deity.
How boundless in magnificence and might.
Oh! what a confluence of ethereal fires,
From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of heaven
Streams to a point, and centres in my sight;
Nor tarries there; I feel it at my heart.
My heart at once it humbles and exalts,
Lays it in dust, and calls it to the skies.
COME, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come!
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veiled in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
And see where surly Winter passes off
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravag'd vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows, in livid torrents lost,
The mountains lift their green heads to the skies,
As yet the trembling year is unconfirmed,
And Winter, oft at eve resumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets
Deform the day delightless; so that scarce
The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulft
To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore,
The plovers, when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste;
At last, from Aries, rolls the bounteous sun,
And the bright Bull receives him. Then, no more
The expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold;
But full of life and vivifying soul,
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin.
Fleecy and white, o'er all surrounding heaven,
Forth fly the tepid airs, and unconfin'd,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, the impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting nature; and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us'd plough
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost;
There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil;
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark.
While thro' the neighbouring fields, the sower stalks
With measur'd step, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground;
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.
Be gracious heaven! for now laborious man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!
And temper all, thou world reviving sun,
Into the perfect year.
FLED, now, the sullen murmurs of the north;
The splendid raiment of the Spring comes forth;
Her universal green, and clearer sky
Delight, still more and more the gazer's eye.
Wide o'er the fields in rising moisture strong,
Shoots up the simple flower, or shoots along
The mellowed soil; imbibing fairer hues,
And sweets, from frequent showers and evening dews;
That summon from their sheds the slumbering ploughs,
While health impregnates every breeze that blows.
The work is done; no more to man is given;
The grateful farmer trusts the rest to heaven.
Yet oft, with anxious heart, he looks around,
And marks the first green blade that breaks the
ground;
In fancy sees his trembling oats uprun;
His tufted barley yellow with the sun;
Sees clouds propitious shed their timely store,
And all his harvest gather'd round his door.
But still unsafe, the big swoln grain below,
A favourite morsel with the rook and crow;
From field to field, the flight increasing, goes;
To level crops, most formidable foes.
Their danger well the wary plunderers know,
And place a watch on some conspicuous bough.
Yet oft the skulking gunner by surprise
Will scatter death among them as they rise ;
These hung in triumph round his spacious field,
At best a short-liv'd terror only yield.
Familiarized to these, they boldly rove,
Nor heed such centinels as never move;
But let the birds lie prostrate on the earth
In dying posture, and with wings stretched forth;
Shifted at eve and morn from place to place;
And death shall terrify the pilfering race.
In the mid air while circling round and round,
They call their lifeless comrades from the ground;
With quick'ning wing, and notes of wild alarm,
Warn the whole tribe to shun impending harm.
NEGLECTED now, the early daisy lies,
Nor the pale primrose blooms the only prize.
Advancing Spring profusely spreads abroad
Flowers of all hues, with sweetest fragrance stor❜d.
Where'er she treads, love gladdens every plain,
Delight, on tiptoe, bears her lucid train;
Sweet Hope, with smiling brow, before her flies,
Anticipating wealth from summer skies.
All nature feels her renovating sway,
The sheep-fed pasture, and the meadow gay;
And trees and shrubs no longer budding seen
Display the new-grown branch of lighter green;
On airy downs the idling shepherd lies,
And sees the morrow in the mottled skies.
Here let the muse, the darling theme pursue,
The humble poet was a shepherd too.
Small was his charge, no wilds had they to roam;
But green enclosures circling round their home.
No yellow blossom'd furze, nor stubborn thorn,
The heath's rough produce, had their fleeces torn.
Oh happy tenants, prisoners of a day!
Releas'd to ease, to pleasure, and to play;
Indulg'd through every field, by turns to range,
And taste them all in one continual change;
Loos'd from the winding lane, a joyful throng,
See, o'er yon pasture how they pour along.
Giles, round their boundaries, takes his usual stroll,
Sees every pass secur'd, and fences whole:
High fences, green, which charm the gazing eye,
Whence many a nestling first essays to fly,
Where blows the woodbine, faintly streak'd with red,
And rests on every bough its tender head;
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