10
ODE II.
But lo, on this deserted coast
How faint the light! how thick the air!
Lo, arm'd with whirlwind, hail and frost,
Fierce winter desolates the year,
The fields resign their chearful bloom;
No more the breezes waft perfume,
No more the warbling waters roll:
Desarts of snow fatigue the eye,
Black storms involve the louring sky,
And gloomy damps oppress the soul.
Now thro' the town promiscuous throngs
Urge the warm bowl and ruddy fire;
Harmonious dances, festive songs,
To charm the midnight hours conspire.
While mute and shrinking with her fears,
Each blast the cottage-matron hears
As o'er the hearth she sits alone:
At morn her bridegroom went abroad,
The night is dark and deep the road;
She sighs and wishes him at home.
But
