Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/234

 And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. More to embroil the deep, Leviathan And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, Tempest the loosened brine, while thro' the gloom, Far, from the bleak inhospitable shore, Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl Of famish'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks. Yet, that ever waking Eye, Looks down with pity on the feeble toil Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe, Thro' all this dreary labyrinth of fate.

done! dread spreads his latest glooms, And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year. How dead the vegetable kingdom lies! How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends His desolate domain. Behold, fond Man! Behold thy pictur'd life; pass some few years, Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength, Thy sober Autumn fading into age, And pale concluding Winter comes at last, And shuts the scene. Ah! whither now are fled, Those dreams of greatness? those unsolid hopes Of happiness? those longings after fame? Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughts, Lost between good and ill, that shar'd thy life? All now are vanish'd! sole survives, Immortal, never-failing friend of Man, His guide to happiness on high.—And see! 'Tis come, the glorious morn! the second birth Of heaven, and earth! awakening Nature hears The new-creating word, and starts to life, In every heightened form, from pain and death For