DR, DARWIN. l6l 



We have read various defcriptions of a 

 winter's night, and it's enfuing' morning ; 

 but the following fketch is not borrowed 

 from any of them. We feel that it was 

 drawn beneath a lively remembrance of 

 real impreffion made on the author's mind 

 by the cireumftances themfelves ; therefore, 

 it will not fail to touch the vibrating chords 

 of recollefted fenfation in every reader of 

 fenfibility. Book-made defcriptions are 

 trite and vapid ; but nature is inexhauftible 

 in her varieties, and will always prefent to 

 the eye of genius either new images, or fuch 

 combination of images as muft render them 

 new ; and they will rife on his page in the 

 morning freflinefs of originality. Thefe 

 facred arcana me referves for the poet, and 

 leaves the mere verfifier to his dull thefts. 



VALES OF WEAVER. 



O Wootton ! oft I love to hear 

 Thy wintry whirlwinds, loud and clear ; 

 With dreadful pleafure bid them fill 

 My liftening ear, my bofom chill. 



M As 



