Such scenes he saw
With solemn awe,
As in the presence of the Eternal Mind.
Fix'd he gaz'd,
Tranc'd and rais'd,
Sublimely rapt in awful pleasure undefin'd.
II. ANTISTROPHE
Reckless of dainty joys, he finds delight
Where feebler souls but tremble with affright.
Lo! now, within the deep ravine,
A black impending cloud
Infolds him in its shroud,
And dark and darker glooms the scene.
Through the thicket streaming,
Lightnings now are gleaming;
Thunders rolling dread,
Shake the mountain's head;
Nature's war
Echoes far,
O'er ether borne,
That flash
The ash
Has scath'd and torn!
Now it rages;
Oaks of ages,
Writhing in the furious blast,
Wide their leafy honours cast;
Their gnarled arms do force to force oppose
Deep rooted in the crevic'd rock,
The sturdy trunk sustains the shock,
Like dauntless hero firm against assailing foes.
III. EPODE.
'0 Thou who sitst above these vapours dense,
And rul'st the storm by thine omnipotence!
Making the collied cloud thy ear,
Coursing the winds, thou rid'st afar,
Thy blessings to dispense.
The early and the latter rain,
Which fertilize the dusty plain,
Thy bounteous goodness pours.
Dumb be the atheist tongue abhorr'd!
All nature owns thee, sovereign Lord!
And works thy gracious will;
At thy command the tempest roars,
At thy command is still.
Thy mercy o'er this scene sublime presides;
'Tis mercy forms the veil that hides
The ardent solar beam;
While, from the volley'd breast of heaven,
Transient gleams of dazzling light,
Flashing on the balls of sight,
Make darkness darker seem.
Thou mov'st the quick and sulphurous leven—
The tempest-driven
Cloud is riven;
And the thirsty mountain-side
Drinks gladly of the gushing tide.'
So breath'd young Edwin, when the summer shower,
From out that dark o'erchamb'ring cloud,
With lightning flash and thunder loud,
Burst in wild grandeur o'er his solitary bower.—G. Brown.
THE END OF PART FOURTH.
