Page:The dispensary - a poem in six canto's (sic) (IA b30356775).pdf/72

 The Ev'ning now with Blushes warms the Air, The Steer resigns the Yoke, the Hind his Care. The Clouds above with golden Edgings glow, And falling Dews refresh the Earth below. The Bat with sooty Wings flits thro' the Grove, The Reeds scarce rustle, nor the Aspine move, And all the feather'd Folks forbear their Lays of love. Thro' the transparent Region of the Skies, Swift as a Wish the Missionary flies. With Wonder he surveys the upper Air, And the gay gilded Meteors sporting there. How lambent Jellies kind'ling in the Night, Shoot thro' the Æther in a Trail of Light, How rising Steams in th'azure Fluid blend, Or fleet in Clouds, or in soft Show'rs descend; Or if the stubborn Rage of Cold prevail, In Flakes they fly, or fall in moulded Hail. How Hony Dews embalm the fragrant Morn, And the fair Oak with luscious Sweats adorn. How Heat and Moisture mingle in a Mass, Or belch in Thunder, or in Light'ning blaze. Why nimble Coruscations strike the Eye, And bold Tornado's bluster in the Sky. Why a prolifick Aura upwards tends, Ferments, and in a living Show'r descends. How Vapours hanging on the tow'ring Hills in Breezes sigh, or weep in Warbling Rills Whence Infant Winds their tender pinions try, And River Gods their thirsty Urns supply. The