POEMS. 



345 



ON THE DARK, STILL, DRY, WARM 

 WEATHER, 



OCCASIONALLY HAPPENING IN THE WINTER MONTHS. 



Th' imprison' d winds slumber within their caves 

 Fast bound : the fickle vane, emblem of change. 

 Wavers no more, long-settling to a point. 



All Nature nodding seems compos'd : thick steams 

 From land, from flood up-drawn, dimming the day, 

 " Like a dark ceiling stand :" slow thro' the air 

 Gossamer floats, or stretch'd from blade to blade 

 The wavy net-work whitens all the field. 



Push'd by the weightier atmosphere, up springs 

 The ponderous Mercury, from scale to scale 

 Mounting, amidst the Torricellian tube/ 



While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings. 

 Unseen, the soft, enamour'd wood-lark runs 

 Thro' all his maze of melody ; — the brake 

 Loud with the blackbird's bolder note resounds. 



Sooth' d by the genial warmth, the cawing rook 

 Anticipates the Spring, selects her mate. 

 Haunts her tall nest-trees, and with sedulous care 

 Repairs her wicker eyrie, tempest torn. 



The ploughman inly smiles to see upturn 

 His mellow glebe, best pledge of future crop. 



^ The Barometer. 



