Thence winding caitward to the Tartar's coat, She fweeps the howling margin of the main, Where undiffolving, from the first of time, Snows fwell on fhows amazing to the iky, And icy mountains, high on mountains pil'd, Seem to the fhivering failor from afar, Shapeless and white, an atmosphere of clouds. Projected huge and horrid o'er the furge, Alps frown on Alps, or rushing hideous down, As if old Chaos was again retura'd, Wide-rend the deep, and shake the folid Pole.. Ocean itself no longer can refift The binding fury, but in all its rage Of tempeft taken by the boundless froft, Is many a fathom to the bottom chain'd, And bid to roar no more; a bleak expanfe, Shagg'd o'er with wavy rocks, chcarlefs, and void Of every life, that trom the dreary months' Flies confcious fouthward. Miferable they Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, Take their laft look of the defcending fun! While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold froft, The long, long night, incumbent o'er their heads, Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's fate †, 925 As with firft prow (what have not Britons dar'd!) He for the paffage fought, attempted fince Są much in vain, and feeming to be shut By jealous Nature with eternal bars. In thefe fell regions, in Arzina caught, And to the ftony deep his idle fhip Immediate feal'd, he with his hapless crew, Each full exerted at his feveral task, Froze into ftatues: to the cordage glu'd The failor, and the pilot to the helm.
What cannot active government perform, 950 New-moulding Man! Wide-ftretching from thefe fhores,
A people favage from remoteft time,
A huge neglected empire, one vaft Mind, By Heaven infpir'd, from Gothic darkness call'd. Immortal Peter! firft of Monarchs! he 955 His ftubborn country tam'd, her rocks, her fens, Her floods, her feas, her ill-fubmitting fons; And while the fierce Barbarian he fubdu'd, To more exalted foul he rais'd the Man.
Ye thades of ancient heroes! ye who toil'd, 950 Thro' long fucceffive ages, to build up
A labouring plan of ftate, behold at once. The wonder done! behold the matchlefs prince! Who left his native throne, where reign'd, till then,
A mighty fhadow of unreal power: Who greatly fpurn'd the flothful pomp of courts, And roaming every land, in every port His fceptre laid afide, with glorious hand Unweary'd plying the mechanic tool, Gather'd the feeds of trade, of ufeful arts, 915 Of civil wifdom, and of martial kill. Charg'd with the ftores of Europe, home he goes; Then cities rife amid th' illumin'd wafte; O'er joyless deferts fmiles the rural reign; Far-diftant flood to flood is focial join'd; Th' aftonish'd Enxine hears the Baltic roar; Proud navies ride on feas that never foam'd With daring keel before; and armies ftretch Each way their dazzling files, repreffing here The frantic Alexander of the North, 980 And awing there stern Othman's fhrinking fons. Sloth flies the land, and Ignorance and Vice, Of old dishonour proud: it glows around, Taught by the Royal Hand that rous'd the whole, One fcene of arts, of arins, of rifing trade; 985 930 For what his wifdom plann'd, and power enforc'd More potent still, his great example fhew'd. Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point,
Hard by thefe thores, where fcarce his freezing ftream
Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of men; And, half-enliven'd by the distant sun, That rears and ripens inan, as well as plants, Here human nature wears its rudeft form. Deep from the piercing feafon funk in caves, Here by dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer, They wafte the tedious gloom. Immers'd in furs Doze the grofs race: nor sprightly jeft, nor fong, Nor tenderness they know, nor aught of life Beyond the kindred bears that ftalk without. Till Morn, at length, her roles drooping all, Sheds a long twilight brightning o'er their fields, And calls the quiver'd favage to the chafe.
Sir Hugh Willoughby, fent by Queen Elizabeth to difcover the North-east Paffage.
Blow hollow bluftering from the South. Subdued,
The froft refolves into a trickling thaw. 990 Spotted the mountains fhine, loofe fleet defcends. And floods the country round. The rivers fwell, Of bonds impatient, Sudden from the hills, O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown catara&s, A thoufand fnow-fed torrents fhoot at once, And, where they ruth, the wide-refounding plain Is left one flimy wafte. Thofe fullen feas, That wash'd th' ungenial Pole, will reft no more Beneath the fhackles of the mighty North, But, routing all their waves, refiftlefs heave. 1000 And hark! the lengthening roar continuous runs Athwart the rifted deep; at once it burfts, And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds. Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charg'd, That, tofs'd amid the floating fragments, moors Beneath the fhelter of an icy ifle,
While night o'erwhelms the fea, and horror looks More horrible. Can human force endure The affembled inifchiefs that befiege them round? Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness, 1010
The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice, Now ceafing, now renew'd with louder rage, And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. More to embroil the deep, leviathan, And his unwieldy train, in dreadfulfport, 1015 Tempeft the loofen'd brine; while thro' the gloom, Far from the bleak inhofpitable fhore, Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl Of famifh'd monfters, there awaiting wrecks. Yet Providence, that ever-waking Eye, Looks down with pity on the feeble toil Of mortals loft to hope, and lights them fafe Thro' all this dreary labyrinth of Fate.
'Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms,
And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year. How dead the vegetable kingdom lie's! How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends His defolate domain. Behold, fond Man! See here thy pictur'd life; pafs fonie few years, Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent ftrength,
Thy fober Autumn fading into age, And pale concluding Winter comes at laft, And huts the fcene. Ah! whither now are fled Thofe dreams of greatnefs? thofe unfolid hopes Of happiness? thofe longings after fame? 1935 Thofe reflefs cares? thoie bufy bustling days? Thofe gay-fpent, feftive nights? thofe veering thoughts,
Loft between good and ill, that fhar'd thy life?
All now are vanish'd! Virtue fole furvives, Immortal never-failing friend of Man, His guide to happiness on high. And fee! 'Tis come, the glorious Morn! the fecond birth Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears The new-creating Word, and ftarts to life, In every heighten'd form, from pain and death For ever free. The great eternal scheme, 1045 Involving all, and in a perfect whole Uniting, as the profpect wider spreads, To Reafon's eye refin'd, clears up apace. Ye vainly wife! ye blind prefumptuous! now, Confounded in the duft, adore that Power 1051 And Wifdom oft' arraign'd; fee now the caufe Why unaffuming Worth in fecret liv'd And dy'd neglected; why the good man's share In life was gall and bitterness of foul; Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd In ftarving folitude; while Luxury, In palaces, lay ftraining her low thought To form unreal wants; why heaven-born Truth, And Moderation fair, wore the red marks Of Superftition's fcourge; why licens'd Pain, That cruel fpoiler, that embosom'd foe, Imbitter'd all our blifs. Ye Good diftreft! Ye noble Few! who here unbending ftand Beneath life's preffure, yet bear up a while, 1065 And what your bounded view, which only faw A little part, deem'd evil, is no more; The ftorms of Wintry Time will quickly pafs, And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
The at varied God. The rolling year HESE, as they change, Almighty Father! thefe
Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleafing Spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. Wide fluth the fields; the foftening air is balin; 5 Echo the mountains round; the foreft fmiles; And every fenfe, and every heart, is joy. Then comes Thy glory in the Summer months, With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy fun Shoots full perfection thro' the fwelling year; And oft Thy voice in dreadful thunder fpeaks; And oft' at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales, Thy bounty fhines in Autumn unconfin❜d, And spreads a common feast for all that lives. 15 In Winter awful Thou! with clouds and forms Around Thee thrown! tempeft o'er tempeft roll, Majeftic darknefs! On the whirlwind's wing, Riding fublime, Thou bidft the world adore, And humbleft Nature with thy northern blaft. 20 Myfterious round! what skill, what force divine,
Soft roll your incenfe, herbs, and fruits, and
In mingled clouds, to Him, whofe fun exalts, Whofe breath perfumes you, and whofe pencil paints.
Ye Forefts! bend; ye Harvests! wave to Him; Breathe your ftill fong into the reaper's heart, 60 As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep wateh in heaven! as earth afleep Unconscious lies, effufe your mildeft beams, Ye Constellations while your angels ftrike, Amid the fpangled fky, the filver lyre, Great fource of day! beft image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On Nature write, with every beam, his praife. The thunder rolls: be hush'd the proftrate World, While cloud to cloud returns the folemn hymn. Bleat out afresh, ye Hills! ye mofly Rocks! Retain the found the broad refponfive low, Ye Vallies! raife; for the Great Shepherd reigns, And his unfuffering kingdom yet will come. 75 Ye Woodlands all! awake; a boundless fong Burft from the groves; and when the reftlefs day, Expiring, lays the warbling world afleep, Sweeteft of birds! fweet Philomela! charm The liftening fhades, and teach the night His praife. Ye, chief, for whom the whole creation fmiles, At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all, Crown the great hymn. In fwarming cities valt, Affembled Men! to the deep organ join. The long-refounding voice, oft' breaking clear, At folemn paufes, thro' the fwelling bafe, 25 And as each mingling flame increafes each, In one united ardour rife to heaven. Or if ye rather choose the rural fhade, And find a fane in every facred grove, There let the fhepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting feraph, and the poet's lyre, Still fing the God of Seafons as they roll. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the bloffom blows, the Summer ray 95. Ruffets the plain, infpiring Autumn gleams, Or Winter rifes in the blackening Eatt, Be my tongue mute, my Fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!
Deep felt, in the fe appear! a fimple train, Yet fo delightful mix'd with fuch kind art, Such beauty and beneficence combia'd, Shade, unperceiv'd, fo foftening into fhade, And all fo forming an harmonious whole, That as they ftill fucceed they ravish still. But wandering oft', with brute unconfcious gaze; Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand That ever-bufy, wheels the filent fpheres, 39 Works in the fecret deep, fhoots, fteaming, thence The fair profufion that o'erfpreads the Spring! Flings from the fun direct the flaming day, Feeds every creature, hurls the tempeft forth, And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, 35 With tranfport touches all the fprings of life. Nature, attend! join every living foul Beneath the fpacious temple of the sky, In adoration join, and ardent raise
One general fong! To Him, ye vocal Gales! Breathe foft, whofe Spirit in your freshness breathes:
Oh talk of him in folitary glooms! Where, o'er the rock, the fcarcely waving pine Fills the brown fhade with a religious awe. And Ye!' whofe bolder note is heard afar, 45 Who take th' aftonifh'd world, lift high to heaven Th' impetuous fong, and fay from whom, ye
Should Fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to fong, where frft the fun Gilds Indian mountains, or his fetting beam Flames on th' Atlantic ities, 'tis nought to me; Since God is ever prefent, ever felt, In the void walle as in the city full! And where he vital breathes there must be joy. When e'en at lait the folemn hour fhall come, And wing my myftic flight to future worlds, I chearful will obey; there with new powers 1 to Will rising wonders fing. I cannot go Where Univerfal Love not fimiles around, Suftaining all yon' orbs, and all their fons, From feeming evil fill educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progreffion. But I lofe Myfelf in Him, in Light Ineffable; Come then, expreffive Silence! mufe His praise. 3.0.2
Loofe flow'd her treffes, rent her azure robe. Hung o'er the deep, from her majestic brow She tore the laurel, and the tore the Lay; Nor ceas'd the copious grief to bathe her cheek, Nor ceas'd her fobs to murmur to the maia. Peace difeontented nigh, departing, stretch'd Her dove-like wing; and War, the greatly rous'd, Yet mourns her fetter'd hands; while thus the Queen
Of Nations fpoke, and what the faid the Mufe Recorded, faithful, in unbidden verse.
E'en not you' fail, that from the sky-mixt wave Dawns on the fight, and wafts the Royal Youth,* A freight of future glory to my shore; E'en not the flattering view of golden days, And rifing periods yet of bright renown, Beneath the Parents, and their endless line Thro' late revolving time can footh my rage, While, unchaftis'd, the infulting Spaniard dares Infeft the trading flood, full of vain war, Defpife my navies, and my merchants feize, As, trufting to falfe peace, they fearless roam The world of waters wild, made by the toil And liberal blood of glorious ages mine; Nor burts my fleeping thunder on their head. Whence this unwonted patience? this weak doubt?
This tame befeeching of rejected peace? This meek forbearance? this unnative fear, To generous Britons never known before? And fail'd my fleets, for this, on Indian tide's To float, unactive, with the veering winds? The mockery of war! while hot Difeafe, And Sloth liftemper'd, fwept off burning crowds, For action ardent, and amid the deep, Inglorious funk them in a watery grave. There now they lie beneath the rolling flood, Far from their friends and country unaveng'd, And back the drooping war-thip comes again, Difpirited, and thin: her fons afham'd Thus idly to review their native there; With not one glory fparkling in their eyc, One triumph on their tongue. A paffenger, The violated merchant comes along, That far-fought wealth, for which the noxious gale
Frederick Prince of Wales, then lately arrived.
65 Of clouds, wide roll'd before the boundless breeze, Gaily the fplendid armament along Exultant plough'd, reflecting a red gleam, As funk the fun o'er all the naming Vaft; Tail, gorgeous, and clate, drunk with the dream Of eaty conqueft; while their bloated War, Stretch'd out from fky to iky, the gather'd force Of ages held in its capacious womb:
But foon, regardless of the cumbrous pomp, My dauntless Britons came, a gloomy Few! With tempeft black the goodly fceue deform'd, And laid their glory wafte. The bolts of Fate Refiftlefs thunder'd through their yielding des; Fierce o'er their beauty blaz'd the lurid flame; And feiz'd in horrid gafp, or flatter'd wide Amid the mighty waters, deep they funk. Then, too, from ev'ry promontory chill, Rank fen, and cavern, where the wild wave works, I fwept confederate winds, and fwell'd a form. Round th' glad ifle, fnatch'd by the vengeful blait, The fcatter'd remnants drove; on the blind shelve And pointed rock, that marks the indented fhore, Relentlefs dafh'd, where loud the northern main Howls thro' the fractur'd Caledonian ifics.
Such were the dawnings of my watry reign; 90 But fince how vaft it grew, how abfolute, E'en in thofe troubled times, when dreadful Blake Aw'd angry nations with the British name, Let every humble ftate, let Europe fay, Suftain'd and balanc'd by my naval arm. Ah! what muft thofe immortal fpirits think Of your poor fhifts? thofe, for their country's good, who fac'd the blackeft danger, knew no fear, No mean fubmiffion, but commanded peace? Ah! how with indignation muft they burn! 100 (If aught but joy can touch ethereal breafts) With fame, with grief, to fee their feeble fons Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer'd feas For which their wildom plann'd, their councils glow'd,
And their veins bled, thro' many a toiling age Oh! firft of human bleffings, and fupreme! 106 Fair Peace! how lovely, how delightful thou! By whofe wide tie the kindred fons of men Like brothers live, in amity combin'd, And unfufpicious faith; while honeft Toil
Gives every joy, and to those joys a right, Which idle barbarous Rapine but ufurps. Pure is thy reign, when, unaccurs'd by blood, Nought fave the fweetnefs of indulgent flowers, Trickling, diftils into the vernant glebe; 115 Infiead of mangled carcaffes, fad-feen, When the blithe fheaves lie fcatter'd o'er the field;
When only fhining fhares, the crooked knife, And hooks, inprint the vegetable wound; When the land blushes with the rofe alone, 120 The falling fruitage and the bleeding vine. Oh, Peace! thou fource and foul of social life, Beneath whofe calm infpiring influence Science his views enlarges, Art refines, And fwelling Commerce opens all her ports; 125 Bleft be the man divine who gives us thee! Who bids the trumpet hufh his horrid clang, Nor blow the giddy nat ons into rage; Who teaths the murderous blade; the deadly gun
Jnto the well-pil'd armoury returns; And, every vigour from the work of death To grateful industry converting, makes The country flourish, and the city fmile. Unviolated, him the virgin fings, And him the fmiling mother to her train; Of him the fhepherd, in the peaceful dale, Chaunts and, the treasures of his labour fure, The husbandman of him, as at the plough Or team he toils. With him the failor fooths, Beneath the trembling moon, the midnight
What painful patience? what inceffant care? What mixt anxiety? what fleepless toil? Elen from the rafh, protected, what reproach? 150 For he thy value knows, thy friendship, he, To human nature: but the better thou, The richer of delight, fometimes the more Inevitable war' when ruffian Force Awakes the fury of an injur'd ftate. Een the good patient man, whom Reafon rules, Rous'd by bold infult, and injurious rage, With fharp and fudden check th' aftonish'd fons Of Violence confounds; firm as his caufe His bolder heart; in awful juice clad, His eyes effulging a peculiar fire; And as he charges thro' the prostrate war, His keen arm teaches faithlefs men no more To dare the facred vengeance of the juft. And what, my thoughtlefs Sons! fhould fire you 165 Than when your well earn'd Empire of the Deep The least beginning injury receives?
What better caufe can call your lightning forth? Your thunder wake? your deareft life demand? What better caufe, than when your country fees
The fly deftruction at her vitals aim'd? For, oh! it most imports you, 'tis your all, To keep your trade entire, entire the force And honour of your fleets; o'er that to watch, E'en with a hand fevere, and jealous eye. 175 In intercourse be gentle, generous, juft, By wifdom polish'd, and of manners fair;" But on the fea be terrible, untam'd, Unconquerable fill; let none efcape,
Who fhall but aim to touch your glory there. 180 Is there the man, into the lion's den Who dares intrude, to fnatch his young away? And is a Briton feiz'd, and feiz'd beneath The flumbering terrors of a British fleet? Then ardent rife! oh! great in vengeance rife! O'erturn the proud, teach Rapine to restore; 186 And as you ride fublimely round the world, Make every veffel ftoop, make every flate At once their welfare and their duty know. This is your glory; this your wifdoin; this 190 The native power for which you were defign'd By Fate,, when Fate defign'd the firmeft state That e'er was feated on the fubject fea;
A ftate alone where Liberty fhould live
Where'er the wind your high behefts can blow, | And fix it deep on this eternal base. For fhould the fliding fabric once give way, Soon flackened quite and past recovery broke, It gathers ruin as it rolls along, Steep-rufhing down to that devouring gulf 215 Where many a mighty empire buried lies. And fhould the big redundant flood of Trade, In which ten thoufand thousand labours join Their feveral currents, till the boundless tide Rolls in a radiant deluge o'er the land, Should this bright ftream, the leaft inflected, point
Its courfe another way, o'er other lands The various treasure would refiftlefs pour, Ne'er to be won again; its ancient tract Left a vile channel, defolate, and dead, With all around a miserable wafte. Not Egypt, were her better heaven, the Nile, Turn'd in the pride of flow, when o'er his rocks
And roaring cataracts, beyond the reach Of dizzy Vision pil'd, in one wide flash An Ethiopian deluge foams amain,
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