Makes ocean turbid seem and doubly foul,
And to the sullied aspect of the cliff
Allows no neatness. What if the clear orb
Of night or day from the pure vault of heaven
Look unimpeded down! How glowing then
The thrice-bleach'd purity of earth beneath,
Wrapp'd like a spirit in a blaze of light;
And how excell'd her splendour, well opposed
By the deep azure of the heaven above.
FALL OF SNOW IN THE EVENING.
How calm is my recess; and how the frost,
Raging abroad, and the rough wind endear
The silence and the warmth enjoy'd within!
I saw the woods and fields at close of day
A variegated show; the meadows green,.
Though faded; and the lands, where lately waved
The golden harvest, of a mellow brown,
Upturn'd so lately by the forceful share.
I saw far off the weedy fallows smile
With verdure not unprofitable, grazed
By flocks, fast feeding, and selecting each
His favourite herb; while all the leafless groves
That skirt the horizon wore a sable hue,
Scarce noticed in the kindred dusk of eve.
To-morrow brings a change, a total change!
Which even now, though silently perform❜d,
And slowly, and by most unfelt, the face
Of universal nature undergoes.
Fast falls a fleecy shower: the downy flakes
Descending, and with never ceasing lapse,
Softly alighting upon all below,
Assimilate all objects. Earth receives
Gladly the thickening mantle-and the green And tender blade, that fear'd the chilling blast, Escapes unhurt beneath so warm a veil.
In such a world, so thorny, and where none Finds happiness unblighted; or, if found, Without some thistly sorrow at its side; It seems the part of wisdom, and no sin Against the law of love, to measure lots With less distinguish'd than ourselves; that thus We may with patience bear our moderate ills, And sympathize with others, suffering more. Ill fares the traveller now and he who stalks In ponderous boots beside his reeking team. The wain goes heavily, impeded sore
By congregated loads adhering close
To the clogg'd wheels; and in its sluggish pace
Noiseless appears a moving hill of snow:
The toiling steeds expand the nostril wide,
While every breath, by respiration strong
Forced downward, is consolidated soon
Upon their jutting chests. He, form'd to bear
The pelting brunt of the tempestuous night,
With half shut eyes, and pucker'd cheeks and teeth
Presented bare against the storm, plods on;
One hand secures his hat, save when with both
He brandishes his pliant length of whip,
Resounding oft, and never heard in vain.
O happy; and in my account, denied
That sensibility of pain with which
Refinement is endued, thrice happy thou!
Thy frame robust and hardy feels indeed
The piercing cold, but feels it unimpair'd.
The learned finger never need explore
Thy vigorous pulse; and the unhealthful east, That breathes the spleen, and searches every bone Of the infirm, is wholesome air to thee.
A HORSEMAN IN A SNOW STORM.
MARK on that road, whose unobstructed course
With long white line the' unburied furze divides,
Yon solitary horseman urge his way.
He, not unmindful of the brooding storm,
Ere yet, by strong necessity compell'd
Of pressing occupation, he exchanged
The blazing hearth, the firm compacted roof,
For naked forests and uncertain skies,
With sapient caution arm'd himself to meet
The winter's utmost rage. In silken folds
Twice round his neck the handkerchief he twined;
His legs he cased in boots of mighty size,
And strength experienced oft; warm'd through
and through
In chimney corner; and with glassy face
Prepared descending torrents to repel,
As roll the round drops from the silvery leaf
Of rain-besprinkled colewort, or the plumes
Of seagull sporting in the broken wave.
Then o'er his limbs the stout great coat he drew,
With collar raised aloft, and threefold cape
Sweep below sweep in wide concentric curves
Low down his back dependent on his breast
The fold he cross'd, and in its destined hole
Each straining button fix'd: erect he stood,
Like huge portmanteau on its end uprear'd;
Fearless he sallied forth; nor yet disdain'd
The heartening draught from tankard capp'd with By host officious to the horseblock borne [foam, With steady hand, and eloquently praised; While lingering on the step his eye he turn'd To every wind, and mark'd the embattled clouds Ranging their squadrons in the sullen East. How fares he now? Caught on the middle waste, Where no deep wood its hospitable gloom Offers; no friendly thicket bids him cower Beneath its tangled roof; no lonely tree Warns him to seek its leeward side, and cleave, Erect and into narrowest space compress'd, To the bare trunk, if haply it may ward The driving tempest; with bewilder'd haste Onward he comes. Hither direct thy speed; This sheltering grove'-He hears not! Mark his Oblique presented to the storm! his hand, [head Enveloped deep beneath the inverted cuff, Strives to confine, with many a fruitless grasp, His ever flapping hat; the cold drench'd glove Clings round the imprison'd fingers. O'er his knees His coat's broad skirt, scanty now proved too late, He pulls and pulls impatient, muttering wrath At pilfering tailors. Baffled and perplex'd, With joints benumb'd and aching, scarce he holds The rein, scarce guides the steed, with breathless [blast. O'erpower'd, and shrinking sideways from the Behold that steed, with icy mane, and head Depress'd, and quivering ears now forward bent, Now backward swiftly thrown, and offering still Their convex penthouse to the shifting gale: Behold that steed, on indurated balls
Of snow upraised, like schoolboy rear'd on stilts, Labour unbalanced: the fallacious prop,
Now this, now that, breaks short; with sudden jerk
He sinks, half falling; and recovering quick,
On legs of length unequal reels along.
Scarce on his seat can clinging knees sustain
The trembling rider: while the snow upheaves
In drifts athwart his course projected broad;
Or o'er the uncover'd gravel rattling sweeps,
Caught up in sudden eddies, and aloft,
Like smoke in suffocating volumes whirl'd.
The road he quits unwary, wandering wide
O'er the bleak waste mid brushwood wrapp'd in
Down rough declivities and fractured banks,
Through miry plashes, cavities unseen,
And bogs of treacherous surface; till afar
From all that meets his recollection borne,
Dismay'd by hazards scarce escaped, and dread
Of heavier perils imminent, he stands
Dismounted and aghast. Now Evening draws
Her gathering shades around; the tempest fierce
Drives fiercer. Chill'd within him sinks his heart,
Home crowds upon his bosom. The wild blast
Appall'd he hears, thinks on his wife and babes,
And doubts if ever he shall see them more.
But comfort is at hand; the skies have spent
In that last gust their fury. From the west
The setting sun with horizontal gleam [breach
Cleaves the dense clouds; and through the golden
Strikes the scathed oak, whose branches peel'd and
'Gainst the retiring darkness of the storm (bare
With fiery lustre glow. The traveller views
The well known landmark, lifts to heaven his eyes
Swimming with gratitude, the friendly track
Regains, and speeds exulting on his way.
|