An agency divine, to make him know His moment when to fink and when to rife, All we behold is miracle, but feen So duly, all is miracle in vain. Where now the vital energy that mov'd, While fummer was, the and fubtle lymph pure Through th' imperceptible meandering veins A cold ftagnation on th' inteftine tide. But let the months go round, a few short months, Barren as lances, among which the wind Makes wintry mufic, fighing as it goes, Shall put their graceful foliage on again, And more afpiring, and with ampler fpread, Shall boast new charms, and more than they have loft. Then, each in its peculiar honors clad, Shall publish, even to the diftant eye, Its family and tribe. Laburnum rich In streaming gold; fyringa iv'ry pure; The scented and the scentless rofe, this red Now fanguine, and her beauteous head now fet Studious of ornament, yet unrefolv'd Which hue fhe most approv'd, she chose them all; Of flow'rs, like flies cloathing her flender rods, *The Guelder-rofe. With blushing wreaths, invefting ev'ry fpray; Althea with the purple eye; the broom, Her bloffoms; and luxuriant above all The jafmine, throwing wide her elegant sweets, Shall be dismantled of its fleecy load, And flush into variety again. From dearth to plenty, and from death to life, A foul in all things, and that foul is God. The beauties of the wildernefs are his, That make fo gay the folitary place Where no eye fees them. And the fairer forms. That That cultivation glories in, are his. He fets the bright proceffion on its way, And marshals all the order of the year; He marks the bounds which winter may not pass, Ruffet and rude, folds uu the tender germ And, ere one flow'ry feafon fades and dies, Some fay that, in the origin of things, When all creation started into birth, The infant elements receiv'd a law From which they fwerve not fince. That under force And need not his immediate hand, who first Thus dream they, and contrive to fave a God The great Artificer of all that moves VOL. II. R The The stress of a continual act, the pain Of unremitted vigilance and care, So man, the moth, is not afraid, it seems, And is not ere to-morrow's fun go down. But how should matter occupy a charge Dull as it is, and fatisfy a law So vast in its demands, unless impell'd Nature is but a name for an effect Whofe caufe is God. He feeds the fecret fire By which the mighty procefs is maintain'd, Whofe |