54 LBSTEKS TO GILBERT WHITE 



The Families are assembled : on Thursday in the week before 

 last arrived my Uncle wth his Family, & my Father & Heck. I 

 might tell You of One's ake & t'other's ail ; but 'tis better to say 

 that they are all now pretty well. Heck was very bad wth a 

 Feaver at Peterboro, I mention this because it introduces a 

 Performance of Her's, which She wrote during that Indisposition. 



Ode, written during a violent Storm at Midnight. 



In gloomy Pomp, whilst awfull Midnight reigns, 

 And wide o'er Earth her mournfuU Mantle spreads. 

 Whilst deep-voiced Thunders threaten guilty Heads, 

 And rushing Torrents drown the frighted Plains, 

 And quick-glanc'd Lightnings to my dazzled sight 

 Betray the double Horrors of the Night, 



2. 



A solemn Stillness creeps upon my Soul, 

 And all it's Powers in deep Attention die ; 

 My Heart forgets to beat, my steadfast Eye 

 Catches the flying Gleam ; the distant Roll 

 Advancing gradual swells upon my Ear 

 With lowder Peals, more dreadfull as more near. 



3. 



Awake, my Soul ! from thy forgettfull Trance I 

 The Storm calls loud, &, Contemplation wakes. 

 How at the Sound pale Superstition shakes, 

 Whilst all her Train of frantic Fears advance ! 

 Children of Darkness, hence ! fly far from Me ! 

 And dwell with Guilt & Infidelity ! 



4. 

 But come, with Look composed, & sober pace. 

 Calm Contemplation, come ! & hither lead 

 Devotion, that on Earth disdains to tread ; 

 Her inward Flame illumes her glowing Face ; 

 Her upcast Eye, & spreading wings, declare 

 Her bent for Heaven, to find her Treasure there. 



5. 

 She sees, enraptured, thro' the thickest Gloom 

 Caelestial Beauty beam ; & midst the Howl ^ 



Of warring winds sweet Music charms her Soul ; 

 She sees, whilst rifted Oaks in Flames consume 

 A Father God, that o'er the Storm presides, 

 Threatens, to save ; & loves, when most he chides. 



