Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/230

 The seeds of vice; whose spotless swains ne'er knew Injurious deed, nor, blasted by the breath Of faithless love, their blooming daughters woe.

, pressing on, beyond Tornea's lake, And Hecla flaming thro' a waste of snow, And farthest Greenland, to the pole itself, Where failing gradual life at length goes out, The Muse expands her solitary flight; And, hovering o'er the wild stupendous scene, Beholds new seas beneath another sky. Thron'd in his palace of cerulean ice, Here holds his unrejoicing court; And thro' his airy hall the loud misrule Of driving tempest is for ever heard! Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath; Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost; Moulds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows, With which he now oppresses half the globe.

winding eastward to the Tartar's coast, She sweeps the howling margin of the main; Where undissolving, from the first of time, Snows swell on snows amazing to the sky; And icy mountains, high on mountains pil'd, Seem to the shivering sailor from afar, Shapeless and white, an atmosphere of clouds. Projected huge, and horrid, o'er the surge, Alps frown on alps; or rushing hideous down, As if old chaos was again return'd, Wide-rend the deep, and shake the solid pole. Ocean itfelf no longer can resist The binding fury; but, in all its rage Of tempest taken by the boundless frost, Is