Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/234

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174
WINTER.

And in dire echoes bellowing round the main.
More to embroil the deep, Leviathan 1015
And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport,
Tempest the loosened brine, while thro' the gloom,
Far, from the bleak inhospitable shore,
Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl
Of famish'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks. 1020
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.

'Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, 1025
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!
Behold thy pictur'd life; pass some few years, 1030
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 1035
Of happiness? those longings after fame?
Those restless cares? those busy bustling days?
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, 1040
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, 1045
In every heightened form, from pain and death

For