Beneath the frozen clod; all seeds of herbs Lie cover'd close; and berry-bearing thorns, That feed the thrush, (whatever some suppose) Afford the smaller minstrels no supply. The long protracted rigour of the year Thins all their numerous flocks.
In chinks and Ten thousand seek an unmolested end, As instinct prompts; self-buried ere they die. The very rooks and daws forsake the fields, Where neither grub, nor root, nor earth-nut, now Repays their labour more; and perch'd aloft By the wayside, or stalking in the path, Lean pensioners upon the traveller's track, Pick up their nauseous dole, though sweet to them, Of voided pulse or half-digested grain.
The streams are lost amid the splendid blank, O'erwhelming all distinction. On the flood, Indurated and fix'd, the snowy weight Lies undissolved; while silently beneath, And unperceived, the current steals away. Not so where, scornful of a check, it leaps The mill-dam, dashes on the restless wheel, And wantons in the pebbly gulf below: No frost can bind it there; its utmost force Can but arrest the light and smoky mist That in its fall the liquid sheet throws wide. And see where it has hung the embroider'd banks With forms so various, that no powers of art, The pencil or the pen, may trace the scene! Here glittering turrets rise, upbearing high
(Fantastic misarrangement!) on the roof
Large growth of what may seem the sparkling trees And shrubs of fairy land. The crystal drops That trickle down the branches, fast congeal'd, Shoot into pillars of pellucid length,
And prop the pile they but adorn'd before. Here grotto within grotto safe defies
The sunbeam; there, emboss'd and fretted wild, The growing wonder takes a thousand shapes Capricious, in which fancy seeks in vain. The likeness of some object seen before. Thus Nature works as if to mock at Art, And in defiance of her rival powers; By these fortuitous and random strokes Performing such inimitable feats
As she with all her rules can never reach. Less worthy of applause, though more admired, Because a novelty, the work of man, Imperial mistress of the fur-clad Russ! Thy most magnificent and mighty freak, The wonder of the North. No forest fell
When thou wouldst build; no quarry sent its stores To enrich thy walls: but thou didst hew the floods, And make thy marble of the glassy wave. In such a palace Aristæus found
Cyrene, when he bore the plaintive tale
Of his lost bees to her maternal ear:
In such a palace Poetry might place
The armoury of Winter; where his troops, The gloomy clouds, find weapons, arrowy sleet,
Skin-piercing volley, blossom-bruising hail,
And snow, that often blinds the traveller's course, And wraps him in an unexpected tomb.
Silently as a dream the fabric rose ;
No sound of hammer or of saw was there. Ice upon ice, the well adjusted parts
Were soon conjoin'd; nor other cement ask'd Than water interfused to make them one. Lamps gracefully disposed, and of all hues, Illumined every side: a watery light
Gleam'd through the clear transparency, that seem'd
Another moon new risen, or meteor fallen From Heaven to Earth, of lambent flame serene. So stood the brittle prodigy; though smooth And slippery the materials, yet frost-bound Firm as a rock. Nor wanted aught within, That royal residence might well befit, For grandeur or for use. Of flowers, that fear'd no
Long wavy wreaths enemy but warmth,
Mirror needed none
Where all was vitreous; but in order due Convivial table and commodious seat
(What seem'd at least commodious seat) were
Sofa, and couch, and high built throne august,
The same lubricity was found in all,
An all was moist to the warm touch; a scene Of evanescent glory, once a stream, And soon to slide into a stream again.
Alas! 'twas but a mortifying stroke Of undesign'd severity, that glanced (Made by a monarch) on her own estate, On human grandeur and the courts of kings. 'Twas transient in its nature, as in show 'Twas durable; as worthless as it seem'd Intrinsically precious; to the foot
Treacherous and false; it smiled, and it was cold. Great princes have great playthings. Some have
At hewing mountains into men, and some At building human wonders mountain high. Some have amused the dull sad years of life (Life spent in indolence, and therefore sad) With schemes of monumental fame; and sought By pyramids and mausolean pomp,
Short-lived themselves, to immortalize their bones. Some seek diversion in the tented field,
And make the sorrows of mankind their sport. But war's a game which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at. Nations would do well To extort their truncheons from the puny hands Of heroes, whose infirm and baby minds Are gratified with mischief, and who spoil, Because men suffer it, their toy the World.
When Babel was confounded, and the great Confederacy of projectors wild and vain Was split into diversity of tongues, Then, as a shepherd separates his flock, These to the upland, to the valley those,
God drave asunder, and assign'd their lot
Ample was the boon
He gave them, in its distribution fair
And equal; and he bade them dwell in peace. Peace was awhile their care: they plough'd and
And reap'd their plenty without grudge or strife, But violence can never longer sleep
Than human passions please. In every heart Are sown the sparks that kindle fiery war; Occasion needs but fan them, and they blaze. Cain had already shed a brother's blood; The deluge wash'd it out; but left unquench'd The seeds of murder in the breast of man. Soon by a righteous judgment in the line Of his descending progeny was found The first artificer of death; the shrewd Contriver, who first sweated at the forge And forced the blunt and yet unblooded steel To a keen edge, and made it bright for war. Him, Tubal named, the Vulcan of old times, The sword and falchion their inventor claim; And the first smith was the first murderer's son. His art survived the waters; and ere long, When man was multiplied and spread abroad In tribes and clans, and had begun to call These meadows and that range of hills his own, The tasted sweets of property begat Desire of more; and industry in some, To improve and cultivate their just demesne,
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