NOW tranquil beauty is no more,
The crowding billows seek the shore;
And while against the rock they dash,
See! the blue fire through darkness flash.
Now rings anew departed Summer’s knell,
And rings again reluctant, sad farewell.
Not as a gloomy despot’s reign,
Winter, I welcome in thy train;
Thy train, majestic, may afford
Rich pleasures from thy frozen hoard.
Although thy power binds lakes, binds rivers, seas;
Yet, dost thou not the mental current freeze.
Summer, thy gentle, balmy reign
Breathes pure devotion from the plain;
For who can view the simplest flower,
Nor recognize Creative power!
Or see the rising sun in glory shine,
Nor feel, Almighty, that the work is thine!
Yet when thou swell’st the mighty wave,
Immediate felt thy power to save!
And while thou rid’st the tempest’s wing,
We to the Rock of Ages cling;
Till fear, subsiding, leaves a gentler claim,
We dare address thee by a FATHER’S name.
Come, let us view the countless stars
Wheel through the heavens their silver cars!
Or gaze, with contemplative eye,
On the bright Stranger of the sky!*
Who, while he holds his wide ethereal sweep,
Illumes the tranquil bosom of the deep.
Descending, let us now retire,
Around the social evening fire.
Resist not Fancy’s magic sway,
Let her her wand’ring power display;
Speeding her devious way she spurns control,
On her fleet wing we range from Pole to Pole.
This–parents, guardians, this the hour,
The golden moment this, to pour
Instruction o’er the youthful mind,
To each impression now resign’d;
And now, all-unsuspected, may you drop
Important hints, fair Virtue’s cause to prop.
For open’d wide, by fancy’s hand,
The mental avenues now stand.
While you may prompt the feeling sigh,
In tear humane adorn the eye;
Lose not the favouring moment to suggest
“The generous purpose” to the glowing breast.
Now shall the teeming, time-fraught page,
Lead us back thro’ many an age;
And give the well-won meed of praise,
Of those who shone in former days,
Nor will the tuneful Nine refuse to lend
Their aid, the brow of winter to unbend.
Come, some sweet Syren, and untie
“The hidden soul of harmony,”
And with the vocal warbling power,
Add tale of ancient hall or tower;
The strain not merely shall night’s gloom disarm,
We chide its flight when thus ’tis taught to charm.
And when the Equinox of Spring,
Sweet, cheering hopes again shall bring!
And the latest blust’ring gale
Rings departed winter’s knell;
May we of virtuous wintry pleasures tell
In kind, though not reluctant, sad Farewell.
(Margaret Chalmers)
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