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James Thomson - The Four Seasons : Winter
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And hark! the lengthening roar continuous runs 
Athwart the rifted deep: at once it bursts, 
And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds. 
Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charged, 
That, toss`d amid the floating fragments, moors 
Beneath the shelter of an icy isle, 
While night o`erwhelms the sea, and horror looks 
More horrible. Can human force endure 
The assembled mischiefs that besiege them round? 
Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness, 
The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice, 
Now ceasing, now renew`d with louder rage, 
And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. 
More to embroil the deep, leviathan 
And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, 
Tempest the loosen`d brine, while through the gloom, 
Far from the bleak inhospitable shore, 
Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl 
Of famish`d monsters, there awaiting wrecks. 
Yet Providence, that ever waking eye, 
Looks down with pity on the feeble toil 
Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe, 
Through all this dreary labyrinth of fate. 
`Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, 
And reigns tremendous o`er the conquer`d Year. 
How dead the vegetable kingdom lies! 
How dumb the tuneful! horror wide extends 
His desolate domain. Behold, fond man! 
See here thy pictured life; pass some few years, 
Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer`s ardent strength, 
Thy sober Autumn fading into age, 
And pale concluding Winter comes at last, 
And shuts the scene. Ah! whither now are fled 
Those dreams of greatness? those unsolid hopes 
Of happiness? those longings after fame? 
Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? 
Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughts, 
Lost between good and ill, that shared thy life? 
All now are vanish`d! Virtue sole survives, 
Immortal never failing friend of man, 
His guide to happiness on high. And see! 
`Tis come, the glorious morn! the second birth 
Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears 
The new creating word, and starts to life, 
In every heighten`d form, from pain and death 
For ever free. The great eternal scheme, 
Involving all, and in a perfect whole 
Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads, 
To reason`s eye refined clear up apace. 
Ye vainly wise! ye blind presumptuous! now, 
Confounded in the dust, adore that Power 
And Wisdom oft arraign`d: see now the cause, 
Why unassuming worth in secret lived, 
And died, neglected: why the good man`s share 
In life was gall and bitterness of soul: 
Why the lone widow and her orphans pined 
In starving solitude; while luxury, 
In palaces, lay straining her low thought, 
To form unreal wants: why heaven-born truth, 
And moderation fair, wore the red marks 
Of superstition`s scourge: why licensed pain, 
That cruel spoiler, that embosom`d foe, 
Embitter`d all our bliss. Ye good distress`d! 
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand 
Beneath life`s pressure, yet bear up a while, 
And what your bounded view, which only saw 
A little part, deem`d evil is no more: 
The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass, 
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
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