VISIO N.
IN FIVE CANTO S.
AIN would my Verfe, TYRCONNEL, boaft thy
Name,
BROWNLOW, at once my Subject, and my ame!
Oh! could that Spirit, which thy Bofom warms,
Whofe Strength furprizes, and whofe Goodness charms!
That various Worth! could that infpire my Lays,
Envy fhould fmile, and Cenfure learn to praise:
Yet, tho' unequal to a Soul like thine,
A generous Soul, approaching to Divine,
When blefs'd beneath fuch Patronage I write,
Great my Attempt, tho' hazardous my Flight.
O'er ample Nature I extend my Views;
Nature to rural Scenes invites the Mufe:
She flies all public Care, ail venal Strife,
To try
the Still, compar'd with Active Life;
Το prove, by these the Sons of Men may owe
The Fruits of Bliss to burfting Clouds of Woe;
That ev'n Calamity, by Thought refin'd,
Infpirits, and adorns the thinking Mind.
Come, CONTEMPLATION, whofe unbounded Gaze, Swift in a Glance, the Courfe of Things furveys; Who in Thy-felf the various View can'ft find
Of Sea, Land, Air, and Heav'n, and human Kind;
What Tides of Paffion in the Bofom roll;
What Thoughts debase, and what exalt the Soul;
Whose Pencil paints, obfequious to thy Will,
All thou furvey'ft, with a creative Skill!
Oh, leave a-while thy lov'd, fequefter'd Shade!
A-while in wintry Wilds vouchsafe thy Aid!
Then waft me to fome olive, bow'ry Green;
Where, cloath'd in white, thou fhew'ft a Mind ferene;
Where kind Content from Noife and Court retires,
And smiling fits, while Mufes tune their Lyres:
Where Zephyrs gently breathe, while Sleep profound
To their foft Fanning nods, with Poppies crown'd,
Sleep on a Treafure of bright Dreams reclines,
By thee beftow'd; whence Fancy colour'd fhines,
And flutters round his Brow a hov'ring Flight,
Varying her Plumes in visionary Light.
The folar Fires now faint and watry burn,
Juft where with Ice Aquarius frets his Urn!
If thaw'd, forth iffue, from its Mouth severe,
Raw Clouds, that fadden all th'inverted Year.
When FROST and FIRE with martial Pow'rs engag'd,
FROST, Northward, fled the War, unequal wag'd!
Beneath the Pole his Legions urg'd their Flight,
And gain'd a Cave profound and wide as Night.
O'er chearless Scenes by Defolation own'd,
High on an Alp of Ice he fits enthron'd!
One clay-cold Hand, his cryftal Beard, fuftains,
And fcepter'd One, o'er Wind, and Tempeft, reigns;
O'er ftony Magazines of Hail, that form
The bloffom'd Fruit, and flow'ry Spring deform.
His languid Eyes, like frozen Lakes, appear,
Dim-gleaming all the Light, that wanders here.
His Robe fnow-wrought, and hoar'd with Age; his Breath
A nitrous Damp, that strikes petrific Death.
Far hence lies, ever freez'd, the Northern Main; That checks, and renders Navigation vain;
That, fhut against the Sun's diffolving Ray,
Scatters the trembling Tides of vanquish'd Day,
And stretching Eastward half the World fecures,
Defies Discov'ry, and like Time endures !
Now FROST fent Boreal Blafts to fcourge the Air, To bind the Streams, and leave the Landscape hare; Yet when far-weft, his Violence declines;
Tho' here the Brook, or Lake, his Pow'r confines;
To rocky Pools, to Cat'racts are unknown
His Chains! —to Rivers, rapid like the Rhone!
The falling Moon caft Cold, a quiv'ring Light, Juft filver'd o'er the Snow, and funk! Pale Night Retir'd. The Dawn in light-grey Mists arose! Shrill chants the Cock!
the hungry Heifer lows! Slow blush yon breaking Clouds ;-the Sun's uproll'd! Th' expanfive Grey turns Azure, chac'd with Gold; White-glitt'ring Ice, chang'd like the Topaz, gleams, Reflecting faffron Luftre from his Beams.
O Contemplation, teach me to explore,
From Britain far remote, some distant Shore!
From Sleep a Dream diftinct and lively claim;
Clear let the Vifion ftrike the Moral's Aim!
It comes! I feel it o'er my Soul ferene!
Still Morn begins, and Froft retains the Scene!
Hark! the loud Horn's enlivening Note's begun! From Rock to Vale fweet-wandring Echoes run! Still floats the Sound fhrill-winding from afar! Wild Beafts astonish'd dread the Sylvan War! Spears to the Sun in Files embattled play, March on, charge brifkly, and enjoy the Fray!
Swans, Ducks, and Geese, and the wing'd, Winter Brood,
Chatter difcordant on yon echcing Flood!
At Babel thus, when Heav'n the Tongue confounds,
Sudden a thousand different, jargon Sounds,
Like jangling Bells, harsh mingling, grate the Ear!
All ftare! all talk! all mean; but none cohere!
Mark! wiley Fowlers meditate their Doom,
And smoaky Fate speeds thund'ring thro' the Gloom
Stop'd fhort, they cease in airy Rings to fly,
Whirl o'er, and o'er, and, flutt'ring, fall and die,
Still Fancy wafts me on! deceiv'd I ftand,
Eftrang'd, advent'rous on a foreign Land!
Wide and more wide extends the Scene unknown!
Where fhall I turn, a Wand'rer, and alone?
From hilly Wilds, and Depths where Snows remain, My winding Steps up a steep Mountain strain ! Emers'd a-top I mark the Hills fubfide, And Towr's afpire, but with inferior Pride!
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