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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

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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
banks defile;

Our guarded fields a sense of danger show,
Where garden-crops with corn and clover

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170

Its garden undefended blooms before:
Her wheel is still, and overturn'd her stool,
While the lone widow seeks the neigh- 175
b'ring pool:

This gives us hope, all views of town to
shun-

140 No! here are tokens of the sailor-son; That old blue jacket, and that shirt of

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check,

And silken kerchief for the seaman's neck;
Sea-spoils and shells from many a dis- 180
tant shore,

And furry robe from frozen Labrador.

Our busy streets and sylvan-walks be-
tween,

Fen, marshes, bog, and heath all intervene;
Here pits of crag, with spongy, plashy base, 185
To some enrich th' uncultivated space:
For there are blossoms rare, and curious

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Forms a gay pillow for the plover's 190
breast.

Not distant far, a house commodious
made,

(Lonely yet public stands) for Sunday

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In limpid blue, and evanescent green;
And oft the foggy banks on ocean lie,
Lift the fair sail, and cheat th' expe-
rienced eye.

Be it the summer-noon: a sandy space
The ebbing tide has left upon its place;
Then just the hot and stony beach above,
Light twinkling streams in bright con-
fusion move;

(For heated thus, the warmer air ascends,

And with the cooler in its fall con-
tends) -

Then the broad bosom of the ocean keeps
An equal motion; swelling as it sleeps,
Then slowly sinking; curling to the strand,
Faint, lazy waves o'ercreep the ridgy sand,
Or tap the tarry boat with gentle blow,
And back return in silence, smooth and
slow.

Ships in the calm seem anchor'd; for
they glide

On the still sea, urged solely by the tide;
Art thou not present, this calm scene
A before,

Where all beside is pebbly length of shore,
And far as eye can reach, it can discern
no more?

Yet sometimes comes a ruffling cloud
to make

The quiet surface of the ocean shake,
As an awaken'd giant with a frown
Might show his wrath, and then to sleep
sink down.

View now the winter-storm! above, one
cloud,

195 Black and unbroken, all the skies o'ershroud;

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Th' unwieldy porpoise through the day
before
T
Had roll'd in view of boding men on shore;
And sometimes hid and sometimes
show'd his form,

Dark as the cloud, and furious as the
storm.

All where the eye delights, yet dreads

to roam,

The breaking billows cast the flying foam
Upon the billows rising-all the deep
Is restless change; the waves so swell'd
and steep,

Breaking and sinking, and the sunken
swells,

1 rough (a Latinism)

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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

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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
1789

O Time! who know'st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow's wounds, and slowly
thence,

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
1789

How shall I meet thee, Summer, wont to fill
My heart with gladness, when thy pleasant
tide

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

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