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Society in Winter.

What now avails that noble thirst of fame,

Which stung thy fervent breast? that treasur'd store
Of knowledge, early gain'd? that eager zeal
To serve thy country, glowing in the band

Of YOUTHFUL Patriots, who sustain her name ?
What now, alas! that life-diffusing charm
Of sprightly wit? that rapture for the Muse,
That heart of friendship, and that soul of joy,
Which bade with softest light thy virtues smile?
Ah! only show'd, to check our fond pursuits,
And teach our humbled hopes that life is vain!
Thus in some deep retirement would I pass
The winter-glooms, with friends of pliant soul,
Or blithe, or solemn, as the theme inspir'd:

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With them would search, if Nature's boundless frame Was call'd, late-rising from the void of night,

Or

sprung eternal from th' ETERNAL MIND;
Its life, its laws, its progress, and its end.
Hence larger prospects of the beauteous whole
Would, gradual, open on our opening minds;
And each diffusive harmony unite

In full perfection, to th' astonish'd eye.

Then would we try to scan the moral World

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Society in Winter.

Which, though to us it seems embroil'd, moves on
In higher order; fitted, and impell'd,

By WISDOM's finest hand, and issuing all

In general Good. The sage historic Muse

Should next conduct us through the deeps of time: Show us how empire grew, declin'd, and fell,

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In scatter'd states; what makes the nations smile; 590
Improves their soil, and gives them double suns;
And why they pine beneath the brightest skies,
In Nature's richest lap. As thus we talk'd,
Our hearts would burn within us, would inhale
That portion of divinity, that ray

Of purest heaven, which lights the public soul

Of patriots, and of heroes. But if doom'd,

In powerless humble fortune, to repress
These ardent risings of the kindling soul;

Then, ev'n superior to ambition, we

Would learn the private virtues; how to glide

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Through shades and plains, along the smoothest stream

Of rural life: or snatch'd away by hope,

Through the dim spaces of futurity,...

With earnest eye anticipate those scenes
Of happiness, and wonder; where the mind,

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Winter Amusements.

In endless growth and infinite ascent,

Rises from state to state, and world to world.
But when with these the serious thought is foil'd,

We, shifting for relief, would play the shapes

Of frolic fancy; and incessant form
Those rapid pictures, that assembled train
Of fleet ideas, never join'd before;

Whence lively Wit excites to gay surprise;

Or folly-painting Humour, grave himself,

Calls Laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve.
Meantime the village rouses up the fire;
While well-attested, and as well believ'd,

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Heard solemn, goes the goblin-story round;
Till superstitious horror creeps o'er all.

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Or, frequent in the sounding hall, they wake
The rural gambol. Rustic mirth goes round;
The simple joke that takes the shepherd's heart,
Easily pleas'd; the long loud laugh, sincere;

The kiss, snatch'd hasty from the side-long maid, 625

On purpose guardless, or pretending sleep:

The leap, the slap, the haul; and, shook to notes

Of native music, the respondent dance.

Thus jocund fleets with them the winter-night.

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