THE wintry west extends his blast, Or, the stormy north sends driving forth The blinding sleet and snaw: While tumbling brown, the burn comes down And roars frae bank to brae;' And bird and beast in covert rest. And pass the heartless day. II. "The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast," The joyless winter day, Let others fear, to me more dear Than all the pride of May! The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul, My griefs it seems to join, The leafless trees my fancy please, Their fate resembles mine! III. 节操 Thou Pow'r Supreme, whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil, Here, firm, I rest-they must be best, Because they are thy will! • Dr. Young. Then all I want, (O, do thou grant This one request of mine!) Since to enjoy thou dost deny, Assist me to resign. DESPONDENCY. AN ODE. I. OPPRESS'D with grief, oppress'd with care, A burden more than I can bear, A long, a rough, a weary road, Dim, backward as I cast my view, What sick'ning scenes appear! Too justly I may fear! Still caring, despairing, Must be my bitter doom; My woes here shall close ne'er, But with the closing tomb! II. Happy, ye sons of busy life, Who, equal to the bustling strife, No other view regard! Ev'n when the wished end's denied, Whilst I, a hope-abandon'd wight, Meet ev'ry sad returning night, III. How blest the Solitary's lot, The cavern wild with tangling roots, Or, haply, to his evening thought, The ways of men are distant brought, While praising, and raising His thoughts to Heav'n on high, As wand'ring, meand'ring, He views the solemn sky. IV. Then I, no lonely hermit plac'd And just to stop, and just to move, With self-respecting art: But ah! those pleasures, loves, and joys, Which I too keenly taste, The Solitary can despise, Can want, and yet be blest! Or human love or hate, V. Oh! enviable, early days, When dancing, thoughtless pleasure's maze, Ye tiny elves that guiltless sport, That active man engage! TO RUIN. 1. ALL hail! inexorable lord! At whose destruction-breathing word The mightiest empires fall! Thy cruel, wo-delighted train, The ministers of grief and pain, A sullen welcome, all! With stern, resolv'd, despairing eye, I see each aimed dart; For one has cut my dearest tie, Then low'ring and pouring, The storm no more I dread; II. And thou, grim pow'r, by life abhorr❜d. Oh! hear a wretch's pray'r! To close this scene of care! My weary heart its throbbings cease, No fear more, no tear more, To strain my lifeless face; • Enclasped and grasped Within thy cold embrace' LAMENT OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING. Now Nature hangs her mantle green On ev'ry blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o' daisies white |