The Natural History of Selborne | Page 4

northern barrier spring, The rushing woods with deaf'ning clamour roar, Like the sea tumbling on the pebbly shore. When spouting rains descend in torrent tides, See the torn zigzag weep its channel'd sides: Winter exerts its rage; heavy and slow, From the keen east rolls on the treasured snow; Sunk with its weight the bending boughs are seen, And one bright deluge whelms the works of men. Amidst this savage landscape, bleak and bare, Hangs the chill hermitage in middle air; Its haunts forsaken, and its feasts forgot, A leaf-strown, lonely, desolated cot ! Is this the scene that late with rapture rang, Where Delphy danced, and gentle Anna sang ? With fairy step where Harriet tripp'd so late, And, on her stump reclined, the musing Kitty sate ?
Return, dear nymphs; prevent the purple spring, Ere the soft nightingale essays to sing; Ere the first swallow sweeps the fresh'ning plain, Ere love-sick turtles breathe their amorous pain; Let festive glee th' enliven'd village raise, Pan's blameless reign, and patriarchal days; With pastoral dance the smitten swain surprise, And bring all Arcady before our eyes.
Return, blithe maidens; with you bring along Free, native humour; all the charms of song; The feeling heart, and unaffected ease; Each nameless grace, and ev'ry power to please.
Nov. 1, 1763.

ON THE RAINBOW.
" Look upon the Rainbow, and praise him that made it: very beautiful is it in the brightness thereof."-- Eccles., xliii. 11.
On morning or on evening cloud impress'd, Bent in vast curve, the watery meteor shines Delightfully, to th' levell'd sun opposed: Lovely refraction ! while the vivid brede In listed colours glows, th' unconscious swain, With vacant eye, gazes on the divine Phenomenon, gleaming o'er the illumined fields, Or runs to catch the treasures which it sheds.
Not so the sage: inspired with pious awe, He hails the federal arch ; and looking up, Adores that God, whose fingers form'd this bow Magnificent, compassing heaven about With a resplendent verge, " Thou mad'st the cloud, " Maker omnipotent, and thou the bow; " And by that covenant graciously hast sworn " Never to drown the world again: henceforth, " Till time shall be no more, in ceaseless round, " Season shall follow season: day to night, " Summer to winter, harvest to seed time, " Heat shall to cold in regular array " Succeed. " -- Heav'n taught, so sang the Hebrew bard.

A HARVEST SCENE.
Waked by the gentle gleamings of the morn, Soon clad, the reaper, provident of want, Hies cheerful-hearted to the ripen'd field: Nor hastes alone: attendant by his side His faithful wife, sole partner of his cares, Bears on her breast the sleeping babe; behind, With steps unequal, trips her infant train; Thrice happy pair, in love and labour join'd !
All day they ply their task; with mutual chat, Beguiling each the sultry, tedious hours. Around them falls in rows the sever'd corn, Or the shocks rise in regular array.
But when high noon invites to short repast, Beneath the shade of sheltering thorn they sit, Divide the simple meal, and drain the cask: The swinging cradle lulls the whimpering babe Meantime; while growling round, if at the tread Of hasty passenger alarm'd, as of their store Protective, stalks the cur with bristling back, To guard the scanty scrip and russet frock.

ON THE DARK, STILL, DRY, WARM WEATHER.
OCCASIONALLY HAPPENING IN THE WINTER MONTHS.
Th' imprison'd winds slumber within their caves, Fast bound: the fickle vane, emblem of change, Wavers no more, long settling to a point.
All Nature nodding seems composed: thick steams, From land, from flood up-drawn, dimming the day, " Like a dark ceiling stand: " slow through the air Gossamer floats, or, stretch'd from blade to blade, The wavy net-work whitens all the field.
Push'd by the weightier atmosphere, up springs The ponderous mercury, from scale to scale Mounting, amidst the Torricellian tube.
While high in air, and poised upon his wings, Unseen, the soft, enamour'd woodlark runs Through all his maze of melody; the brake, Loud with the blackbird's bolder note, resounds.
Sooth'd by the genial warmth, the cawing rook Anticipates the spring, selects her mate, Haunts her tall nest-trees, and with sedulous care Repairs her wicker eyrie, tempest-torn.
The ploughman inly smiles to see upturn His mellow globe, best pledge of future crop: With glee the gardener eyes his smoking beds; E'en pining sickness feels a short relief
The happy schoolboy brings transported forth His long-forgotten scourge, and giddy gig: O'er the white paths he whirls the rolling hoop, Or triumphs in the dusty fields of taw.
Not so the museful sage:--abroad he walks Contemplative, if haply he may find What cause controls the tempest's rage, or whence, Amidst the savage season, Winter smiles.
For days, for weeks, prevails the placid calm. At length some drops prelude a change: the sun With ray refracted, bursts the parting