Before you bid these busy scenes adieu, Behold the wealth that lies in public view, Those far-extended heaps of coal and coke, Where fresh-fill'd lime-kilns breathe their stifling smoke. This shall pass off, and you behold, instead, The night-fire gleaming on its chalky bed; When from the light-house brighter beams will rise, To show the shipman where the shallow lies. Thy walks are ever pleasant; every scene Is rich in beauty, lively, or sereneRich-is that varied view with woods around, Seen from thy seat, within the shrubb'ry bound; Where shines the distant lake, and where appear From ruins bolting, unmolested deer; Lively-the village-green, the inn, the place, Where the good widow schools her infant We prune our hedges, prime our slender trees, And nothing looks untutor'd and at ease; On the wide heath, or in the flow 'ry vale, We scent the vapors of the sea-born gale; 125 Broad-beaten paths lead on from stile to stile, And sewers from streets, the road-side Our guarded fields a sense of danger show, 170 Its garden undefended blooms before: This gives us hope, all views of town to 140 No! here are tokens of the sailor-son; That old blue jacket, and that shirt of check, And silken kerchief for the seaman's neck; And furry robe from frozen Labrador. Our busy streets and sylvan-walks be- Fen, marshes, bog, and heath all intervene; Forms a gay pillow for the plover's 190 Not distant far, a house commodious (Lonely yet public stands) for Sunday In limpid blue, and evanescent green; Be it the summer-noon: a sandy space (For heated thus, the warmer air ascends, And with the cooler in its fall con- Then the broad bosom of the ocean keeps Ships in the calm seem anchor'd; for On the still sea, urged solely by the tide; Where all beside is pebbly length of shore, Yet sometimes comes a ruffling cloud The quiet surface of the ocean shake, View now the winter-storm! above, one 195 Black and unbroken, all the skies o'ershroud; Th' unwieldy porpoise through the day Dark as the cloud, and furious as the All where the eye delights, yet dreads to roam, The breaking billows cast the flying foam Breaking and sinking, and the sunken 1 rough (a Latinism) Yes, 'tis a driven vessel: I discern Lights, signs of terror, gleaming from the stern; Others behold them too, and from the town In various parties seamen hurry down; Their wives pursue, and damsels urged by dread, Lest men so dear be into danger led; Their head the gown has hooded, and their call In this sad night is piercing like the squall; They feel their kinds of power, and when they meet, Chide, fondle, weep, dare, threaten, or entreat. See one poor girl, all terror and alarm, Has fondly seized upon her lover's arm; Thou shalt not venture;" and he answers, "No! I will not"-still she cries, "Thou shalt not go." No need of this; not here the stoutest Assail you, and the winds of winter sweep 5 Round your dark battlements; for far from halls Of Pride, here Charity hath fixed her seat, Oft listening, tearful, when the tempests beat With hollow bodings round your ancient walls; And Pity, at the dark and stormy hour 10 Of midnight, when the moon is hid on high, Keeps her lone watch upon the topmost tower, And turns her ear to each expiring cry; Blessed if her aid some fainting wretch may save, And snatch him cold and speechless from the wave. HOPE 1789 As one who, long by wasting sickness worn, Weary has watched the lingering night, and heard Unmoved the carol of the matin bird Salute his lonely porch; now first at morn 5 Goes forth, leaving his melancholy bed; He the green slope and level meadow views, Delightful bathed with slow-ascending dews; Or marks the clouds, that o'er the mountain's head In varying forms fantastic wander white; 10 Or turns his ear to every random song, Heard the green river's winding marge along, The whilst each sense is steeped in still delight. So o'er my breast young Summer's breath I feel, Sweet Hope! thy fragrance pure and healing incense steal! INFLUENCE OF TIME ON GRIEF O Time! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, The faint pang stealest unperceived away: 5 On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, I may look back on every sorrow past, And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile; 10 As some lone bird, at day's departing hour, Sings in the sunbeam, of the transient shower Forgetful, though its wings are wet the while; Yet ah! how much must that poor heart endure, Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure. APPROACH OF SUMMER How shall I meet thee, Summer, wont to fill First came, and on the Coomb's romantic side Was heard the distant cuckoo's hollow bill!1 5 Fresh flowers shall fringe the margin of the stream, As with the songs of joyance and of hope The hedge-rows shall ring loud, and on the slope The poplars sparkle in the passing beam; The shrubs and laurels that I loved to tend, 10 Thinking their May-tide fragrance would delight, With many a peaceful charm, thee, my poor friend, Shall put forth their green shoots, and cheer the sight! But I shall mark their hues with sadder |