The Storm
Now Boreas comes, he comes along!
And hurls the tempest, loud, and strong,
The turgid clouds before him fly—
Impulsive, thro' the raging sky;
Now with the blast the driving hail
Ruthless—sweeps the desert vale,
Pelts the mountain's nitid side,
Dances on the frigid tide:
Here—lofty ashes feel the stroke—
They bend,—and bends the sturdy oak;
Crashing branches scatter round
Mimic crystals, on the ground,
No more the pearl, and lucid gem
Emboss the boughs, and grace the stem,
No more, bedropp'd with varying light,
They glitter, on the aching sight,
But all the halcyon scene is past,
The tempest howls, the sky's o'ercast!
My garden, late in niveous vest,
A thousand magic charms possest,
There the active hand of frost,
Silent wrought the fairy-scene,
Slender twigs with gems embost,
Mimic foliage threw between;
Here, the snowy plumage flow'd,
Lightly trembling in the wind,
There, the pendent dew-drop glow'd
To the snowy-plumage join'd.
Lo! the distant forest bends!
Fast the rattling hail descends!
To the warm shed the shiy'ring cows retire:
Quick shut the door,—and heap the crackling fire.
Form the circle round the hearth,
Give the present hour to mirth,
While we feel the tepid glow
Bid the sparkling liquors flow,
Let the can, and genial glass
All in decent order pass.
Reach the lute, we'll raise the song,
Strephon's voice is sweet, and strong,
Sweet, as linnet's—from the spray,
Strong, as Philomela's lay.
Now I strike, the trembling strings—
Listen maidens, while he sings,
Strephon greets the judging ear
With carol sweet, and strong, and clear.
Now, suppose we lead the dance?
Nymphs, and jovial swains advance,
“Come, and trip it as ye go,
“On the light fantastic toe;”
While the measures, brisk and free,
Wake the youthful mind to glee:
Now, advancing hand in hand,
Let me view the agile band,
Meeting now, and now retreating,
Yielding floor alternate beating,
All alert, and blithe, and gay,
Now's the time for mirth and play.
Let the pealing organ blow,
Bold, symphonious, full, and slow;
Bid advance the chosen pair,
With gesture meet, and debonair,
Skill'd with artful steps to trace—
The dance, thro' every varied grace,
Skill'd to move the ample round
With step—accordant to the sound.
Has the graceful dance an end?
Then the mirthful tale attend—
While we sip refreshing tea,
Far be scandal, far away!
Fly to dull Bæotia—fly;
We love truth, and harmony.
Thus, we mock stern Bruma's reign
Tho' wide he spread his bleak domain;
Why from Heber strays the god;
Ruling here with iron rod:
Britain irks thy chill embrace;
Return, old boy, return to Thrace.
And hurls the tempest, loud, and strong,
The turgid clouds before him fly—
Impulsive, thro' the raging sky;
Now with the blast the driving hail
Ruthless—sweeps the desert vale,
Pelts the mountain's nitid side,
Dances on the frigid tide:
Here—lofty ashes feel the stroke—
They bend,—and bends the sturdy oak;
Crashing branches scatter round
Mimic crystals, on the ground,
No more the pearl, and lucid gem
Emboss the boughs, and grace the stem,
No more, bedropp'd with varying light,
They glitter, on the aching sight,
But all the halcyon scene is past,
The tempest howls, the sky's o'ercast!
My garden, late in niveous vest,
A thousand magic charms possest,
There the active hand of frost,
Silent wrought the fairy-scene,
Slender twigs with gems embost,
Mimic foliage threw between;
Here, the snowy plumage flow'd,
Lightly trembling in the wind,
There, the pendent dew-drop glow'd
To the snowy-plumage join'd.
Lo! the distant forest bends!
Fast the rattling hail descends!
To the warm shed the shiy'ring cows retire:
Quick shut the door,—and heap the crackling fire.
Form the circle round the hearth,
Give the present hour to mirth,
While we feel the tepid glow
Bid the sparkling liquors flow,
Let the can, and genial glass
All in decent order pass.
Reach the lute, we'll raise the song,
Strephon's voice is sweet, and strong,
Sweet, as linnet's—from the spray,
Strong, as Philomela's lay.
Now I strike, the trembling strings—
Listen maidens, while he sings,
Strephon greets the judging ear
With carol sweet, and strong, and clear.
Now, suppose we lead the dance?
Nymphs, and jovial swains advance,
“Come, and trip it as ye go,
“On the light fantastic toe;”
While the measures, brisk and free,
Wake the youthful mind to glee:
Now, advancing hand in hand,
Let me view the agile band,
Meeting now, and now retreating,
Yielding floor alternate beating,
All alert, and blithe, and gay,
Now's the time for mirth and play.
Let the pealing organ blow,
Bold, symphonious, full, and slow;
Bid advance the chosen pair,
With gesture meet, and debonair,
Skill'd with artful steps to trace—
The dance, thro' every varied grace,
Skill'd to move the ample round
With step—accordant to the sound.
Has the graceful dance an end?
Then the mirthful tale attend—
While we sip refreshing tea,
Far be scandal, far away!
Fly to dull Bæotia—fly;
We love truth, and harmony.
Thus, we mock stern Bruma's reign
Tho' wide he spread his bleak domain;
Why from Heber strays the god;
Ruling here with iron rod:
Britain irks thy chill embrace;
Return, old boy, return to Thrace.
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