Young Spring to Summer flies from Winter's froft,
While fweltry Summer thirfts for Autumn's bowl,
Which Autumn holds to Winter; Winter tofs'd
With fcorn away, young Spring inflames his foul:
Still craving, never pleas'd, thus round and round they roll.
Th' inclement airs bind up the fluggish foil,
The fluggish foil the toilfome hand requires;
Yet, thankless, pays with four harsh fruits the toil;
Ne willing yields but ragged thorns and briers.
Birds birds purfue, as hunger's rage infpires;
Their sweetest songs are now but fongs of woe:
Here from th' encroaching fhore the wave retires,
There hoarfe floods roar, impetuous torrents flow,
Invade the land, and the scarce harvests overthrow.
Stretch'd on the bank eftfoons th' inviting form
Of Pfyche faded; brac'd up lank and slim,
Her dwindled body shrunk into a worm:
Her make new-moulded, chang'd in ev'ry limb;
Her colours only left, all pale and dim;
Doom'd in her caterpillar's fhape to lout.
Her paffions ill fuch worthless thing befeem;
Pride, rage, and vanity, to banish out,
She creeping crawls, and drags a loathsome length about.
How Cupid wash'd her noisome filth away,
What arts he tried to win her love again;
By what wiles guileful Ant'ros did affay,
By leafing, ftill her recreant to maintain,
And render Cupid's kindly labours vain:
Their combat; Cupid's conqueft; Psyche's crown; (My day's fet tafk here ended) must remain Unfung; far nobler verse mote they renown!
Unyoke the toiled fteers, the weary fun goes down.
IN IMITATION OF VIRGIL'S POLLIO.
E Nymphs of Solyma! begin the fong;
To heav'nly themes fublimer ftrains belong.
The moffy fountains, and the fylvan fhades,
The dreams of Pindus, and th' Aönian maids,
Delight no more-O thou my voice inspire,
Who touch'd Ifaiah's hallow'd lips with fire!
Rapt into future times, the bard begun-
A Virgin fhall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son!
From Jeffe's root behold a Branch arise,
Whofe facred flow'r with fragrance fills the skies:
Th' æthereal Spirit o'er it's leaves fhall move,
And on it's top defcends the mystick Dove.
Ye heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour,
And in foft filence fhed the kindly shower!
The fick and weak the Healing Plant fhall aid,
From ftorms a fhelter, and from heat a fhade.
All crimes fhall ceafe, and ancient fraud fhall fail;
Returning Juftice lift aloft her scale;
Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,
And white-rob'd Innocence from heav'n defcend.
Swift fly the years, and rife th' expected morn!
Oh, fpring to light! aufpicious Babe, be born!
See Nature haftes her earliest wreaths to bring,
With all the incenfe of the breathing spring:
See lofty Lebanon his head advance,
See nodding forefts on the mountains dance;
See fpicy clouds from lowly Saron rise,
And Carmel's flow'ry top perfumes the skies!
3 E 2
Hark! a glad voice the lonely defart chears;
Prepare the way! a God, a God, appears!"
A God, a God!' the vocal hills reply;
The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity.
Lo! earth receives him from the bending skies!
Sink down, ye mountains; and, ye vallies, rife;
With heads declin'd, ye cedars, homage pay;
Be fmooth, ye rocks; ye rapid flo s, give way,
The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold:
Hear him, ye deaf; and all ye blind, behold!
He from thick films fhall purge the visual ray,
And on the fightlefs eye-ball pour the day;
'Tis he th' obstructed paths of sound shall clear,
And bid new mufick charm th' unfolding ear:
The dumb fhall fing, the lame his crutch forego,
And leap, exulting, like the bounding roe.
No figh, no murmur, the wide world fhall hear;
From ev'ry face he wipes off ev'ry tear.
In adamantine chains fhall Death be bound,
And hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound.
As the good Shepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks fresheft pafture, and the purest air,
Explores the loft, the wandering fheep directs,
By day o'erfees them, and by night protects;
The tender lambs he raifes in his arms,
Feeds from his hand, and in his bofom warms:
Thus fhall mankind his guardian care engage,
The promis'd Father of the future age.
No more fhall nation against nation rife,
Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes;
Nor fields with gleaming fteel be cover'd o'er,
The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more;
But ufelefs lances into fcythes fhall bend,
And the broad faulchion in a ploughfhare end.
Then palaces fhall rife; the joyful fon
Shall finif what his fhort-liv'd fire begun ;
Their vines a fhadow to their race fhall yield,
And the fame hand that fow'd fhall reap the field.
The fwain in barren defarts, with furprize,
Sees lilies fpring, and fudden verdure rise;
And starts amidst the thirfty wilds to hear
New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods.
Wafte, fandy vallies, once perplex'd with thorn,
The fpiry fir and fhapely box adorn;
To leaflefs fhrubs the flowery palms fucceed,
And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed.
The lambs with wolves fhall graze the verdant mead,
And boys in flow'ry bands the tyger lead;
The fteer and lion at one crib fhall meet,
And harmless ferpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
The fmiling infant in his hand fhall take
The crefted bafilifk, and fpeckled fnake;
Pleas'd, the green luftre of the scales furvey,
And with their forky tongues fhall innocently play.
Rife, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, rise!
Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes!
See a long race thy fpacious courts adorn;
See future fons, and daughters yet unborn,
In crouding ranks on every fide arife,
Demanding life, impatient for the skies!
See barbarous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend;
See thy bright altars throng'd with proftrate kings,
And heap'd with products of Sabæan fprings!
For thee Idumé's spicy forests blow,
And feeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow.
See heav'n it's fparkling portals wide difplay,
And break upon thee in a flood of day!
No more the rifing fun fhall gild the morn,
Nor evening Cynthia fill her filver horn;
But loft, diffolv'd in thy fuperior rays,
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze,
O'erflow thy courts: the Light himself shall shine
Reveal'd, and God's eternal day be thine!
The feas fhall wafte, the skies in smoke decay,
Rocks fall to duft, and mountains melt away;
But fix'd his word, his faving pow'r remains;
Thy realm for ever lafts, thy own Meffiah reigns!
ARL Walter ftrok'd his milk-white steed;
His heart with courage beat;
When, lo! a damfel-matchlefs fair!
Fell próftrate at his feet.
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