How fade the glories of the year!
They bloom awhile and disappear,
And, melancholy truth, fond man!
Thy life's a flower, thy day's a span.
Parent of all! tremendous Power!
Whom every realm and tongue adore,
Whose mandate form'd earth's spacious plain,
And the immeasurable main;
Prostrate before thy throne we bow,
Author of circling seasons Thou!
O hasten happier days, and bring
One Glorious, One Eternal Spring.
BY SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D.
No more the morn with tepid rays
Unfolds the flower of various hue;
Noon spreads no more the genial blaze,
Nor gentle eve distils the dew.
The lingering hours prolong the night,
Usurping Darkness shares the day,
Her mists restrain the force of light,
And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway.
By gloomy twilight half reveal'd,
With sighs we view the hoary hill,
The leafless wood, the naked field,
The snow-topt cot, the frozen rill.
No music warbles thro' the grove,
No vivid colours paint the plain;
No more with devious steps I rove
Thro' verdant paths now sought in vain.
Aloud the driving tempest roars,
Congeal'd, impetuous showers descend; Haste, close the window, bar the doors, Fate leaves me STELLA, and a friend.
In Nature's aid let Art supply
With light and heat my little sphere; Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high, Light up a constellation here.
Let Music sound the voice of joy!
Or Mirth repeat the jocund tale;
Let Love his wanton wiles employ,
And o'er the Season Wine prevail.
Yet Time Life's dreary Winter brings,
When Mirth's gay tale shall please no more,
Nor Music charm, tho' STELLA sings,
Nor Love nor Wine the Spring restore.
Catch then, O catch the transient hour,
Improve each moment as it flies;
Life's a short Summer, man a flower,
He dies! alas! how soon he dies!
BEHOLD, my fair, where'er we rove,
What dreary prospects round us rise;
The naked hill, the leafless grove,
The hoary ground, the frowning skies!
Not only through the wasted plain,
Stern Winter, is thy force confess'd;
Still wider spreads thy horrid reign,
I feel thy power usurp my breast.
Enlivening Hope and fond désire
Resign the heart to Spleen and Care; Scarce frighted Love maintains her fire, And Rapture saddens to Despair.
In groundless hope, and causeless fear
Unhappy man! behold thy doom,
Still changing with the changeful year,
The slave of sunshine and of gloom.
Tir'd with vain joys, and false alarms,
With mental and corporeal strife;
Snatch me, my STELLA, to thy arms,
And screen me from the ills of Life.
HAIL, roseate Morn! returning light!
To thee the sable Queen of Night
Reluctant yields her sway;
And, as she quits the dappled skies,
On glories greater glories rise,
To greet the dawning day.
O'er tufted meads gay Flora trips;
Arabia's spices scent her lips;
Her head with rose-buds crown'd; Mild Zephyr hastes to snatch a kiss, And, fluttering with the transient bliss, Wafts fragrance all around.
The dew-drops, daughters of the Morn, With spangles every bush adorn,
And all the broider'd vales;
Their voice to thee the linnets raise,
The lark, soft-trilling in thy praise,
Aurora, rising, hails!
|