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scious gaze,


Mysterious round! what skill, what Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings force divine,

fall. Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train, Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, Yet so delightful mixed, with such kind and flowers, art,

In mingled clouds to him, whose sun Such beauty and beneficence combined ; exalts, Shade, un perceived, so softening into | Whose breath perfumes you, and whose shade;

pencil paints. And all so forming an harmonious whole ; Ye forests bend, ye harvests wave, to That, as they still succeed, they ravish still.

Breathe your still song into the reaper's But wandering oft, with brute uncon heart,

As home he goes beneath the joyous Man marks not thee, marks not the mighty hand,

Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth That, ever busy, wheels the silent asleep spheres;

Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest Works in the secret deep; shoots, steam

beams, ing, thence

Ye constellations, while your angels The fair profusion that o'erspreads the strike, spring;

Ainid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Flings from the sun direct the flaming Great source of day! best image here day;

below Feeds every creature; hurls the tempests of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, forth;

From world to world, the vital ocean And, as on earth this grateful change

round, revolves,

On Nature write with every beam his With transport touches all the springs praise. of life.

The thunder rolls: be hushed the prosNature, attend ! join every living soul, trate world; Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, While cloud to cloud returns the solemn In adoration join; and, ardent, raise

hymn. One general song! To him, ye vocal Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy gales,

rocks, Breathe soft, whose spirit in your fresh- Retain the sound; the broad responsive ness breathes :

low, 0, talk of him iv solitary glooms; Ye valleys, raise; for the great ShepWhere, o'er the rock, the scarcely wav herd reigns, ing pine

And his unsuffering kingdom yet will Fills the brown shade with a religious awe!

Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,

song Who shake the astonished world, lift Burst from the groves; and when the high to heaven

restless day, The impetuous song, and say from whom Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, you rage.

Sweetest of birds! sweet Philomela, His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trem

charm bling rills;

The listening shades, and teach the night And let me catch it as I muse along.

his praise. Ye headlong torrents, rapid and pro- Ye chief, for whom the whole creatior. found;

smiles, Ye softer floods, that lead the humid At once the head, the heart, and tongvo

of all, Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, Crown the great hymn! in swarming A secret world of wonders in thyself,

cities vast, Sound his stupendous praise, whose Assembleet men to the deep orgiu greater voice

1 join



thest verge

The long-resounding voice, oft breaking

JOHN DYER. clear, At solemn pauses, through the swelling

(1700 - 1758.) bass; And, as each mingling flame increases

GRONGAR HILL. each, In one united ardor rise to heaven. SILENT nymph, with curious eye! Or if you rather choose the rural shade, Who, the purple eve, dost lie And find a fane in every sacred grove, On the mountain's lonely van, There let the shepherd's flute, the vir- Beyond the noise of busy man, gin's lay,

Painting fair the form of things, The prompting seraph, and the poet's While the yellow linnet sings, lyre,

Or the tuneful nightingale Still sing the God of seasons, as they Charms the forest with her tale, roll.

Come, with all thy various hues, For me, when I forget the darling Come and aid thy sister Muse. theme,

Now, while Phoebus, riding high, Whether the blossom blows, the summer Gives lustre to the land and sky, ray

Grongar Hill invites my song, Russets the plain, inspiring autumn Draw the landscape bright and strong; gleams,

Grongar, in whose mossy cells Or winter rises in the blackening east, Sweetly musing Quiet dwells; Be my tongue inute, my fancy paint no Grongar, in whose silent shade, more,

For the modest Muses made, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to So oft I have, the evening still, beat!

At the fountain of a rill, Should fate command me to the far- Sat upon a flowery bed,

With my hand beneath my head, Of the green earth, to distant barbarous While strayed my eyes o'er Towy's climes,

flood, Rivers unknown to song, - where first Over mead and over wood, the siin

From liouse to house, from hill to hill, Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting Till Contemplation had her fill. beam

About his checkered sides I wind, Flames on the Atlantic isles, – 't is And leave his brooks and meads benaught to me :

hind, Since God is ever present, ever felt, And groves and grottos where I lay, In the void waste, as in the city full; And vistas shooting beams of day. And where he vital breathes, there must Wide and wider spreads the vale,

As circles on a smooth canal. When even at last the solemn hour shall The mountains round, unhappy fate !

Sooner or later, of all height, And wing my mystic flight to future Withdraw their summits from the skies, worlds,

And lessen as the others rise. I cheerful will obey; there, with new Still the prospect wider spreads, powers,

Adds a thousand woods and meads;
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go Still it widens, widens still,
Where Universal Love not smiles around, And sinks the newly risen hill.
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their Now I gain the mountain's brow;

What a landscape lies below!
From seeming evil still educing good, No clouds, no vapors intervene;
And better thence again, and better But the gay, the open scene

Does the face of Nature show,
In infinite progression. But I lose In all the hues of heaven's bow!
Myself in him, in light inetlable ! And, swelling to embrace the light,
Come then, expressive Silence, muse his Spreads around beneath the sight.

Old castles on the cliffs arise,

be joy.


Suns :

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