Of mortals loft to hope, and lights them fafe
Through all this dreary labyrinth of fate.
REFLECTIONS ON A FUTURE STATE,
"TIS done! dread Winter 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 defolate domain. Behold, fond man!
See here thy pictur'd life; pass fome few years,
Thy flow'ring Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength,
Thy fober Autumn fading into age,
And pale concluding Winter comes at laft,
And fhuts the fcene. Ah! whither now are fled,
Thofe dreams of greatnefs? thofe unfolid hopes
Of happiness? thofe longings after fame?
Thofe reftlefs cares? thofe bufy bustling days?
Thofe gay-fpent, feftive nights? thofe veering thoughts
Loft between good and ill, that fhar'd thy life?
All now are vanifh'd! Virtue fole furvives,
Immortal never-failing friend of man,
His guide to happiness on high. And fee!
'Tis come, the glorious morn! the second birth
Of heaven, and earth! awak'ning nature hears
The new-creating word, and starts to life,
In ev'ry heighten'd form, from pain and death.
For ever free. The great eternal fcheme,
Involving all, and in a perfect whole
Uniting as the prospect wider spreads,
To reason's eye refin'd clears up apace.
Ye vainly wife! ye blind prefumptuous! now,
Confounded in the duft, adore that Power,
And Wisdom oft arraign'd; fec now the cause,
Why unaffuming worth in fecret liv'd,
And dy'd, neglected: why the good man's fhare
In life was gall and bitterness of foul:
Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd
In starving folitude; while luxury,
In palaces, lay ftraining her low thought,
To form unreal wants: why heav'n-born truth,
And moderation fair, wore the red marks
Of fuperftition's fcourge: why licens'd pain,
That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe,
Imbitter'd all our blifs. Ye good distrest !
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Beneath life's preffure, yet bear up a while,
And what your bounded view, which only faw
A little part, deem'd evil is no more :
The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
as they change, Almighty Father, thefe, Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of thee. Forth in the pleafing Spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields; the foft'ning air is balm; Echo the mountains round; the foreft fmiles; And ev'ry fenfe, and ev'ry heart is joy. Then comes thy glory in the Summer-months, With light and heat refulgent. Then thy fun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year : And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks; And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whisp'ring gales. Thy bounty fhines in Autumn unconfin'd, And spreads a common feast for all that lives. In Winter awful thou! with clouds and ftorms Around thee thrown, tempeft o'er tempeft roll'd, Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing, Riding fublime, thou bid'ft the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast.
Mysterious round! what fkill, what force divine, Deep felt, in these appear; a fimple train,
Yet fo delightful mix'd, with fuch kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;
Shade, unperceiv'd, fo foft'ning into fhade;
And all fo forming an harmonious whole;
That, as they ftill fucceed, they ravish still.
But wand'ring oft, with brute unconscious gaze,
Man marks not thee, marks not the mighty hand,
That, ever bufy, wheels the filent fpheres;
Works in the fecret deep; fhoots, fteaming, thence
The fair profufion that o'erfpreads the Spring;
Flings from the fun direct the flaming day;
Feeds ev'ry creature; hurls the tempest forth;
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves,
With transport touches all the fprings of life.
Nature attend! join ev'ry living foul,
Beneath the fpacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join; and ardent, raife
One gen'ral fong! To him, ye vocal gales,
Breathe foft, whofe Spirit in your freshness breathes:
O talk of him in folitary glooms!
Where, o'er the rock, the fcarcely waving pine
Fills the brown fhade with a religious awc.
ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,
Who shake th' aftonifh'd world, lift high to heav'n
Th' impetuons fong, and fay, from whom you rage.
His praife, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills;
And let me catch it as I mufe along.
Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound;
Ye fofter floods, that lead the human maze
Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,
A fecret world of wonders in thyself,
Sound his ftupendous praife, whofe greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Soft-roll your incenfe, herbs, and fruits, and flow'rs,
In mingled clouds to him, whose sun exalts,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whofe pencil paints.
Ye forefts bend, ye harvests wave, to him;
Breathe your still fong into the reaper's heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Ye that keep watch in heav'n, as earth afleep
Unconscious lies, effufe your mildest beams,
Ye conftellations, while your angels ftrike,
Amid the fpangled fky, the filver lyre.
Great fource of day! beft image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
From world to world, the vital ocean round:
On nature write with every beam his praise.
The thunder rolls; be hufh'd the proftrate world:
While cloud to cloud returns the folemn hymn.
Bleat out afresh, ye hills: ye moffy rocks,
Retain the found: the broad responsive lowe,
Ye valleys, raife; for the Great Shepherd reigns;
And his unfuffering kingdom yet will come.
Ye woodlands all, awake; a boundless fong
Burft from the groves! and when the restless day,
Expiring lays the warbling world asleep,
Sweeteft of birds! fweet Philomela, charm
The lift'ning fhades, and teach the night his praise.
Ye chief, for whom the whole creation fmiles,
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