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Tells us, the day himself's not far.
And see where, breaking from the night,
He gilds the western hills with light!
With him old Janus doth appear,
Peeping into the future year,
With such a look as seems to say
The prospect is not good that way.
Thus do we rise ill sights to see,
And 'gainst ourselves do prophesy;
When the prophetic fear of things
A more tormenting mischief brings,
More full of soul-tormenting gall
Than direst mischiefs can befall.
But stay! but stay! methinks my sight
Better informed by clearer light,
Discerns sereneness in that brow,
That all contracted seemed but now.
His reversed face may show distaste,
And frown upon the ills are past;
But that which this way looks is clear,
And smiles upon the New-born Year.
He looks too from a place so high,
The year lies open to his eye;
And all the moments open are
To the exact discoverer.

Yet more and more he smiles upon
The happy revolution.

Why should we then suspect or fear
The influences of a year,

So smiles upon us the first morn,
And speaks us good so soon as born?
Plague on't! the last was ill enough,
This cannot but make better proof;
Or, at the worst, as we brushed through
The last, why, so we may this too;
And then the next in reason should
Be superexcellently good;
For the worst ills (we daily see)
Have no more perpetuity

Than the best fortunes that do fall;
Which also bring us wherewithal
Longer their being to support,
Than those do of the other sort.
And who has one good year in three,
And yet repines at destiny,
Appears ungrateful in the case,
And merits not the good he has.
Then let us welcome the New Guest
With lusty brimmers of the best;
Mirth always should Good Fortune meet,
And renders e'en Disaster sweet;
And though the Princess turn her back,
Let us but line ourselves with sack,
We better shall by far hold out,
Till the next year she face about.

:0:

JOHN DRYDEN. 1631-1700.

THE GOOD PARSON.

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And warned the sinner with becoming zeal; But on eternal mercy loved to dwell.

He taught the Gospel rather than the Law; And forced himself to drive; but loved to draw.

For fear but freezes minds: but love, like heat,

Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her native seat.

To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard, Wrapped in his crimes, against the storm prepared;

But, when the milder beams of mercy play, He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away.

Lightning and thunder (heaven s artillery) As harbingers before th' Almighty fly: Those but proclaim His style, and disappear; [there.

The stiller sound succeeds, and God is

The tithes his parish freely paid he took; But never sued, or cursed with bell or book. With patience bearing wrong, but offering

none,

Since every man is free to lose his own. The country churls, according to their kind

(Who grudge their dues, and love to be behind),

The less he sought his offerings, pinched the more,

And praised a priest contented to be poor.

Yet of his little he had some to spare, To feed the famished and to clothe the bare; For mortified he was to that degree, A poorer than himself he would not see. "True priests," he said, "and preachers of the Word,

Were only stewards of their sovereign Lord;

Nothing was theirs, but all the public store;

Intrusted riches, to relieve the poor.

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And hungry sent the wily fox away.

The proud he tamed, the penitent he cheered,

Nor to rebuke the rich offender feared. His preaching much, but more his practice wrought,

(A living sermon of the truths he taught); For this by rules severe his life he squared, That all might see the doctrine which they

heard;

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He joined not in their choice, because he knew

[ensue. Worse might, and often did, from change Much to himself he thought, but little spoke,

And, undeprived, his benefice forsook.

Now, through the land, his care of souls he stretched,

And like a primitive apostle preached. Still cheerful; ever constant to his cal; By many followed; loved by most, admired by all ;

With what he begged, his brethren he relieved,

And gave the charities himself received. Gave, while he taught; and edified the more, [to be poor. Because he showed by proof, 'twas easy

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ALONG these blushing borders, bright with dew,

And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace; Throws out the snowdrop and the crocus first;

The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, And polyanthus of unnumbered dyes; The yellow wallflower, stained with ironbrown,

And lavish stock that scents the garden round;

From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed
Anemones; auriculas, enriched
With shining meal o'er all their velvet
leaves;

And full ranunculas of glowing red.
Then comes the tulip race, where Beauty
plays

Her idle freaks; from family diffused
To family, as flies the father-dust,
The varied colours run; and, while they
break

[marks

On the charmed eye, th' exulting florist With secret pride the wonders of his hand. No gradual bloom is wanting; from the bud, [tribes;

Firstborn of Spring, to Summer's musky Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, Low bent, and blushing inward; nor jonquils

Of potent fragrance; nor Narcissus fair,
As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still;
Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted
pinks;
[damask rose.

Nor, showered from every bush, the
Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells,
With hues on hues expression cannot paint,
The breath of Nature, and her endless
bloom.

SPRING SHOWERS.

[shut up

THE north-east spends his rage; he now
Within his iron cave, the effusive south
Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of
heaven
[distent.
Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers
At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise,
Scarce staining ether; but, by swift degrees,
In heaps on heaps the doubling vapour
sails

Along the loaded sky, and mingling deep,
Sits on the horizon round, a settled gloom :
Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed,
Oppressing life; but lovely, gentle, kind,
And full of every hope and every joy,
The wish of Nature. Gradual sinks the
breeze

Into a perfect calm, that not a breath
Is heard to quiver through the closing
woods,

Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves Of aspen tall. The uncurling floods,

diffused

[lapse In glassy breadth, seem through delusive Forgetful of their course. 'Tis silence all, And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks

[eye

Drop the dry sprig, and mute-imploring The falling verdure. Hushed in short

suspense,

[oil,

The plumy people streak their wings with To throw the lucid moisture trickling off; And wait the approaching sign to strike,

at once,

[vales,

Into the general choir. Even mountains, And forests seem, impatient, to demand The promised sweetness. Man superior

walks

Amid the glad creation, musing praise, And looking lively gratitude. At last The clouds consign their treasures to the fields,

And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow In large effusion o'er the freshened world. The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard,

By such as wander through the forest walks,
Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of
leaves.
[descends

But who can hold the shade while Heaven
In universal bounty, shedding herbs
And fruits and flowers on Nature's ample
lap?

Swift Fancy fired anticipates their growth;
And, while the milky nutriment distils,
Beholds the kindling country colour round.

clouds

Thus all day long the full-distended [showered earth Indulge their genial stores, and wellIs deep enriched with vegetable life ; Till, in the western sky, the downward sun Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush Of broken clouds, gay shifting to his beam. The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes The illumined mountain, through the forest streams,

Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist, Far smoking o'er the interminable plain, In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around. [wakes,

Full swell the woods; their every music Mixed in wild concert with the warbling

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Meantime, refracted from yon eastern
Bestriding earth, the grand ethereal bow
Shoots up immense, and every hue unfolds,
In fair proportion running from the red
To where the violet fades into the sky.
Here, awful Newton, the dissolving clouds
Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery
prism;

And to the sage-instructed eye unfold
The various twine of light, by thee disclosed
From the white mingling maze.
Not so
the boy;
[ment bend,
He wondering views the bright enchant-
Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs
To catch the falling glory; but amazed
Beholds the amusive arch before him fly,

Then vanish quite away. Still night

Succeeds,

A softened shade, and saturated earth Awaits the morning beam, to give to light, Raised through ten thousand different plastic tubes,

The balmy treasures of the former day.

A WINTER PICTURE.

[gods,

THE Redbreast, sacred to the household
Wisely regardful of th' embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves
His shivering mates, and pays to trusted

man

His annual visit. Half afraid, he first Against the window beats; then brisk alights

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A listless climate made, where, sooth to No living wight could work, ne cared even for play.

Was nought around but images of rest, Sleep-soothing groves and quiet lawns between, [kest

And flowery beds that slumbrous influence From poppies breathed; and beds of plea

sant green

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Joined to the prattle of the purling rills Were heard the lowing herds along the vale, And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,

And vacant shepherds piping in the dale; And now and then sweet Philomel would wail,

Or stockdoves 'plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep,
Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all
to sleep.

Full in the passage of the vale above,
A sable, silent, solemn forest stood,
Where nought but shadowy forms was
seen to move,

As Idless fancied in her dreaming mood;
And tip the hills, on either side, a wood
Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the
blood.

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