The stately forests, with compulsive speed,
In rugged groups, assail the flow'ry mead.
Departing nature, in lamenting tone,

Through ev'ry pore, exudes the dying groan.

An aqueous sheet outspreads where landscapes stood,
O'er flow'ry champaign rolls a raging flood;
And finny tribes in sportive revels play
Where slumb'ring mortals late in safety lay.
Destruction sweeps her path; the boasters flee,
And climb the mountain, or the tall-grown tree
To 'scape the rage, there try life to preserve,
While pangs of dread the sinking frame unnerve.
The swelling waves impetuously rise,

A watery grave rolls on ;-hearts watch and gaze,-
Death fills their thoughts ;-O, these the more entrance,
Harass more pungent as the floods advance!
Tremendous terror rolls the ghostly eye,

Beats quick the throbbing breast with pangs of wo,
Which deeply sting the soul! How deadly fear
Appals! Vice dreads to think her exit is so near;
While evil deeds upon the mind obtrude,
And charge their agent with ingratitude.
O, how stagnated crime, with frantic dread,
Views that omnipotence so long defi'd!
How piercing cries for help, life's parting moan,
Increase the horror of the dismal scene!
Still, death, imperious to destruction rous'd,
Quick spreads the havoc his foul mother caus'd..

The rod of justice stretch'd the guilty see
To send them to a fear'd eternity;

Comes no reprieve, long proffer'd mercy's fled,
Insatiate carnage stalks his prey to lead
To foul corruption's wreck; it cannot brave
His grasp to drag it to a miry grave.

As nears the final stroke more urgent cries
The panting heart to stop the towering waves
To its lov'd idol; now's display'd the beast
Upon the shoulders of a fatted priest,
As priest-rode Naples hugs her patron sire
To stay the fury of Vesuvian ire.

No dolly hears, but, as the friend ingrate,
Each votary leaves terrific death to wait;
Who, on quick march, around is foaming seen,
In raging host, to fix eternal doom.
Hope wings away, each 'scaping avenue
She sees is guarded by the furious foe;
And whate'er way vice turns the speedy flight
It views the hand of vengeance in pursuit :
Despair appears, frowns fierce and sullen hate,
And the lost soul, transfix'd, awaits its fate.
Hence, sinner, learn to let not vain pretext
Defer repentance till the hour be fix'd
Of retribution; He who knows thy heart
Can't be deceived or by craft, or art!

The waves, with boist'rous roar, advance apace,
The mountains bow, the rocks the deep embrace;

withstand.

Impell'd, directed, by Jehovah's hand,
No towers impede, nor mounds their rage
Earth's range is prostrate but the tow'ry top
To which life clings as its last forlorn hope;
This, soon, the rising tide, with lawless sway,
Rolls o'er, and sweeps man's last remains away;
Atlas and Alps, majestic Andes have

Their lofty crests sunk deep beneath the wave.
But He, th' Almighty, Who thus vengeance wreaks
On harden'd sinners, safe His servants keeps ; (5)
'These ride triumphant o'er the foaming grave,
His arm protects, and they Death's tempests brave.
The towering seas against their mansion dash,
But only the dark pitchy mantle wash;

It stoutly braves each strong renew'd attack,
Repeated fury gives no fatal stroke;

And virtue, undisturb'd in her abode,

Sends peaceful prayer, and pleasing praise to God:
Though over rocks and rugged mountains borne,
In Great Jehovah's arms she's kept from harm.
His mercy, now, commands all-cheering peace
That instant elemental jarrings cease;

The howling blast retires, love's healing breeze
Dispels the tempest, stills the raging seas;
The burden'd skies dismiss their cloudy load,
From vap❜ry heaps no longer floods obtrude;
The sun his former brilliancy assumes,
And darts the waves his exhalating beams.
Proud ocean retrograde majestic pac'd,
Triumphantly her latent steps retrac'd,

Victorious marched to her native bed,

And giant earth again uprear'd his head.
The aqueous trav'llers, forc'd their course to stop,
Cast anchor on Ararat's * rocky top.

From thence a winged herald speedy flew,
Once blooming nature's ruin'd scenes to view,
But oft, in mournful song, to rest return'd,
No food appears, no shelter can be found.
The last despatch proclaimed danger o'er,
As she return'd to her recluse no more;
Then flew the inmates from their long seclude,†

And down the slipp'ry mount their way pursu'd.

But how amaz'd at the dire scene display'd,

All nature's beauties dead, or dormant laid,
Deep ravines form'd, stout rocks in pieces torn,
Where mountains tower'd meand'ring rivers run;
Where flow'ry meads their fragrance sweetly shed,
The rugged hillock rears its barren head;
The last remains of vaunting pride's parade,
Stretch'd humbly, and in heaps corrupting laid;
The green-clad grove, love's ever courted shade,
Roll'd down the deep, the green-clad woodland made
The stagnant lake, or morass, where, in hordes,
Lie deep interr'd its former stately lords.
To hill or dale turn'd the inquiring eye,
But dreary waste presented to the view;
No whistling plough-boy cheers the gauded team,
Nor nature's song enlivens golden morn,

* A lofty mountain in Armenia, not far from the city of Tauris † See Genesis, chap. viii.

Nor frisking lambkins bounding o'er the course
To challenge brothers to the sportive race;
Nor lowing herds at each returning eve,
Imploring food all bounteous nature gave;
Nor milk maid chanting love-lays at the pail,
Nor sportsmens' horns the aural nerves assail;
But desolation walks in solemn calm,

And mourning robes, o'er mountain, vale, and plain,
The murm'ring rill, the zephyrs whisp'ring breath,
Alone give music to enliven earth.

Still the illumin'd heavens, in bright array,
A gracious and protecting God display.

THE MUSE.

Now, unbelief, I'll tell thee, proofs abound
Conspicuous at this day in ev'ry land,

On hill, in dale, by bones, and shells marine
Preserv'd from the corroding rust of time,

I that multitudes of these appear,
say

To tell destruction's wrought her carnage there.

Don't rocks and mountains rudely broke and torn,
Display a work above the strength of man ;
Shew some convulsion, act of Supreme power,
Fulfill'd by force of elemental war,

Has wrought the wonder, given a true record,
Nought could effect it but the hand of God?