The long, long night, incumbent o'er their heads,
Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's fate,
As with first prow, (what have not Britons dar'd?"
He for the passage sought, attempted since
So much in vain, and seeming to be shut
By jealous Nature with eternal bars.
In these fell regions, in Arzina caught,-
And to the stony deep his idle ship

Immediate seal'd; he, with his hapless crew,
Each full exerted to his several task,
Froze into statues: to the cordage glued
The sailor, and the pilot to the helm

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03 5

Hard by these shores, where scarce his freezing stream
Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of men;
And half enliven'd by the distant sun,

940

That rears and ripens man, as well as plants,
Here human Nature wears its rudest form.
Deep from the piercing season sunk in caves,
Here by dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer,
They waste the tedious gloom. Immers'd in furs,
Doze the gross race. Nor sprightly jest, nor song,
Nor tenderness they know; nor aught of life,
Beyond the kindred bears that stalk without.
Till morn at length, her roses drooping all,
Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their fields,
And calls the quiver'd savage to the chase.
What cannot active government perform,
New-moulding man? wide-stretching from these shores,
A people savage from remotest time,

A huge neglected empire, one vast mind,

By heaven inspir'd, from Gothic darkness call'd.
Immortal Peter! first of monarchs! he

His stubborn country tam'd, her rocks, her fens,

055

*Sir Hugh Willoughby, sent by Queen Elizabeth to discover the north-east passage,

Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting sons;
And while the fierce barbarian he subdu'd,
To more exalted soul he rais'd the Man.

Ye shades of ancient heroes! ye who toil'd ~ 360
Through long successive ages to build up
A labouring plan of state, behold at once

The wonder done! behold the matchless prince!
Who left his native throne, where reign'd till then
A mighty shadow of unreal power;---

Who greatly spurn'd the slothful pomp of courts;
And roaming every land, in every port
His sceptre laid aside, with glorious hand
Unwearied, plying the mechanic tool,
Gather'd the seeds of trade, of useful arts,
Of civil wisdom, and of martial skill.

96.

0.0

Charg'd with the stores of Europe, home he goes!
Then cities rise amid th' illumin'd waste;
O'er joyless deserts smiles the rural reign;
Far distant flood to flood is social join'd;
The astonish'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar ;
Proud navies ride on seas that never foam'd
With daring keel before; and armies stretch
Each way their dazzling files, repressing here
The frantic Alexander of the north,

And awing there stern Othman's shrinking sons.
Sloth flies the land, and Ignorance and Vice,
Of old dishonour proud: it glows around,
Taught by the Royal Hand that rous'd the whole,
One scene of arts, of arms, of rising trade :-
For what his wisdom plann'd, and power enforc❜d,
More potent still, his great example show'd.
Muttering,the winds at eve, with blunted point subdu'd,
Blow hollow-blustering from the south.

The frost resolves into a trickling thaw.

Spotted the mountains shine; loose sleet descends,
And floods the country round, The rivers swell,

Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills,
O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts,
A thousand snow-fed torrents shoot at once
And, where they rush, the wide-resounding pla
Is left one slimy waste. Those sullen seas,
That wash'd th' ungenial pole, will rest no more
Beneath the shackles of the mighty north;
But, rousing all their waves, resistless heave..
And hark! the lengthening roar continuous runs
Athwart the rifted deep: at once it bursts,
And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds.

Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charg'd,
That, toss'd amid the floating fragments, moors
Beneath the shelter of an icy isle,
While night o'erwhelms the sea, and horror looks
More horrible. Can human force endure
Th' assembled mischiefs that besiege them round?
Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness,-
The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice,
Now ceasing, now renew'd with louder rage,
And in dire echoes bellowing round the main.
More to embroil the deep, Leviathan,

And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport.

-

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1818

Tempest the loosen'd brine; while through the gloom,

Far, from the bleak inhospitable shore,
Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl
of famish'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks.
Yet Providence, 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.

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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 desolate domain. Behold, fond man!

See here 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 1033

Of happiness? those longings after fame?

Those restless cares? those busy bustling days?.

1046

Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughts,
Lost between good and ill, that shar'd thy life?
All now are vanish'd! Virtue 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 heighten'd form, from pain and death
For ever free. The great eternal scheme,
Involving all, and in a perfect whole
Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads,
To reason's eye refin'd, clears up apace.
Ye vainly wise! ye blind presumptuous! now,
Confounded in the dust, adore that power,
And Wisdom oft arraign'd: see now the cause,
Why unassuming worth in secret liv'd,

And died neglected: why the good man's share
In life was gall and bitterness of soul:-
Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd
In starving solitude; while Luxury,

In palaces, lay straining her low thought,

To form unreal wants: why heaven-born Truth,
And Moderation fair, wore the red marks-
Of Superstition's scourge: why licens'd Pain,
That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe,
Imbitter'd all our bliss. Ye good distrest!
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand

Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile,
And what your bounded view, which only saw
A little part, deem'd evil, is no more:

The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.

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