446 
VERSES To AUTUMN. 
ALE bounteous Autumn! nurfe of human- 
kind! 
Wilt thow no longer then thy garland 
wear © 
Wilt thou the full-ear’d wreath, indeed, un- 
bind, 
To deck with withering leaves thy flow- 
ing hair ? 
Foftered fo long by thee, O who can bear 
Sharp Winter’s fearching cold f-Already 
: low’r 
The skies ; each beauty of the genial year 
Fades faftaway; een now the evenifig 
hour 
Brings the low-muttering ftorm, and fre- 
quent chilling fhow’r. 
Yet thall fweet fympathy my bofom keep 
From felfifh grief; though every comfort 
flies r 
With thee, and haftens down the fouthern 
feep, 
Where wanton Summer fpreads her glow- 
ing skies; 
Where other harvefts yet for thee arife ; 
Where other nations now impatient ftand 
To hail thy coming with enraptured eyes, 
Eager to catch the bounties of thy hand, 
And blefs thee ‘fcattering plenty o'er a 
fmiling land.” 
At length, farewell! I feel the icy breath 
And numbing influence of Winter’s reign; 
Around how widely fpreads the realm of 
Death, 
Ufurping frolic Pleafure’s gay domain! 
Alas! foft Summer’s children all are flain ; 
They languifh low, and hang the drooping 
head, 
Or wildly toffing flutter o’er the plain, 
Mix’d with the foliage that the grove has 
thed, 
Sheltering no more the warblers that thy 
bounty fed. 
O’er eattern hills now flowly climbs the fun, 
While hoary fogs clofe up the dusky vale ; 
Now faintly fhine his flanting beams at noon, 
And only half-enlighten’d is the dale ; 
Slow- moving clouds along the horizon fail, 
And darken ail the folemn profpe& round 5 
The foreft murmurs in the fulien gale, 
And for the reaper’s fong, or fickle’s found, 
The howling tempef fweeps along the 
naked ground. 
Whither, ah! whither fhall I tern my 
view ? 
Still defoletion’s blafting form is feen 
Deepening- the fthades, embrowning ev'ry 
hue 
Of livelier tint, and fickening all the {cene: 
~ 
Original Postry: 
FDeci 1s 
But Spring again fhall, tn her mantie green, 
With atl the Loves and Graces in her 
train, 
O’er thefe fad regions bound with fportive 
mien, 
Reitore each blufhing child 
reign, 
The mufic te the grove, the verdure to the 
plain. 
of Summer’s 
Then mortal, hear! Tho” all thy jeys decay; 
Tho’ rofy heaith thy cheek forfake! thine 
eye, 
Sinking, no longet own its chearful ray ; 
Tho” friendfhip with thy fickle fortune 
fly, ° 
And age, and want, and death, approach thee 
nigh 5 
Yet, yet endure, and lift aloft thy head. : 
For fhouting Nature’s thoufand voices cry, 
The filent grave is but thy refting-bed, 
Soon fhall awake to life and joy the fleep- 
ing dead} 
Offober 18035. 
— Za 
ELEGY WRITTEN AT CLIFTONs 
"THE moon-beam glimmers on the hill, 
Slow vifing o’er its gloomy brea 5 
And all around Jies muteiy ftill— 
Ail bué the fufferer finks to reft. 
Ob! let not Mirth difturb the hour 
That's facred to the filent tear ; 
But let fome wandering minfrel pour 
The ftrain that Sorrow loves to hear= 7 
For now, tho’ thoughtlefs Joy may fleep, 
I heard the lonely mourners tread 5 
And many a mother wakes to weep 
Her only hope, her comfort, fied? 
For here full many a child of love 
In pride of beauty’s bloom has died 5 
And here the fpirits of the grove 
O’er many a kindred form have figh’d. 
Emma, thefe wild-wood rocks among, 
Caught the low fummons of the tomb ; 
She faw its angel glide along, — . 
And heard him whifper—¢* Emma, come !”? 
For here fhe’d roam at clofe of day 
To view the Sun’s departing light ; 
And the would watch the finking ray, 
And biefs the vifionary fight. 
Yet, her mild eye would often fpeak, 
Thet o’er her hung the funeral wreath ; 
And every fmile that flufh’d her cheek, 
Prociaimed the hidden power of Death ! 
Where refts thy head, thou lovelieft maid ! 
Long hall the murmuring willow wave: 
And fairy harps, beneath their fhade, ; 
Shall tune the dirge that charms the 
grave! 
Brificl, O&, 10, 1803- We J. ROBERTS 
EXTRACTS 
