And high Olympus pouring many a stream!
O, from the founding fummits of the north,
The Dofrine Hills, through Scandinavia roll'd
To farthest Lapland and the frozen main ;
From lofty Caucafus, far-seen by those
Who in the Cafpian and black Euxine toil;
From cold Riphean Rocks, which the wild Rufs 790
Believes the * ftony girdle of the world;
And all the dreadful mountains, wrapt in ftorm,
Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods;
O, sweep th' eternal fnows! Hung o'er the deep,
That ever works beneath his founding base,
Bid Atlas, propping heaven, as poets feign,
His fubterranean wonders spread! unveil
The miny caverns, blazing on the day,
Of Abyffinia's cloud compelling cliffs,
And of the bending † Mountains of the Moon!
O'ertopping all these giant fons of earth,
Let the dire Andes, from the radiant line
Stretch'd to the stormy feas that thunder round
The fouthern pole, their hideous deeps unfold!
Amazing scene! Behold! the glooms disclose,
I fee the rivers in their infant beads!
Deep, deep I hear them, labouring to get free!
I fee the leaning strata, artful rang'd;
* The Muscovites call the Riphean Mountains Weliki Camenypoys, that is, the great flony Girdle: because they fuppofe them to encompass the whole earth. † A range of mountains in Africa, that furround almost all Monomotapa.
The gaping fiffures to receive the rains,
The melting fnows, and ever-dripping fogs.
Strow'd bibulous above I see the fands,
The pebbly gravel next, the layers then
Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths,
The gutter'd rocks, and mazy-running clefts;
That, while the stealing moisture they tranfmit,
Retard its motion, and forbid its wafte.
Beneath th' inceffant weeping of these drains,
I fee the rocky fyphons ftretch'd immense,
The mighty refervoirs, of harden'd chalk,
Or ftiff compacted clay, capacious form'd.
O'erflowing thence, the congregated stores,
The crystal treasures of the liquid world,
Through the stirr'd fands a bubbling paffage burft;
And welling out, around the middle steep,
Or from the bottoms of the bofom'd hills,
In pure effufion flow. United, thus,
Th' exhaling fun, the vapour-burden'd air,
The gelid mountains, that to rain condens'd
These vapours in continual current draw,
And fend them, o'er the fair-divided earth,
In bounteous rivers to the deep again,
A focial commerce hold, and firm fupport
The full-adjusted harmony of things.
When Autumn fcatters his departing gleams,
Warn'd of approaching Winter, gather'd, play
The swallow-people; and tofs'd wide around,
O'er the calm sky, in convolution swift,
The feather'd eddy floats: rejoicing once,
Ere to their wintery flumbers they retire;
In clusters clung, beneath the mouldering bank,
And where, unpierc'd by frost, the cavern fweats,
Or rather into warmer climes convey'd,
With other kindred birds of feafon, there
They twitter chearful, till the vernal months
Invite them welcome back: for, thronging, now
Innumerous wings are in commotion all.
Where the Rhine loses his majestic force
In Belgian plains, won from the raging deep,
By diligence amazing, and the strong
Unconquerable hand of Liberty,
The ftork-affembly meets; for many a day,
Confulting deep, and various, ere they take
Their arduous voyage through the liquid sky.
And now their rout defign'd, their leaders chofe,
Their tribes adjusted, clean'd their vigorous wings;
And many a circle, many a fhort essay,
Wheel'd round and round, in congregation full
The figur'd flight afcends; and, riding high
Th' aërial billows, mixes with the clouds.
Or where the Northern ocean, in vaft whirls,
Boils round the naked melancholy ifles
Of fartheft Thulè, and th' Atlantic furge
Pours in among the stormy Hebrides;
Who can recount what tranfmigrations there
Are annual made? what nations come and go?
And how the living clouds on clouds arife?
Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air
And rude refounding fhore are one wild cry.
Here the plain harmless native his small flock, And herd diminutive of many hues,
Tends on the little ifland's verdant fwell,
The fhepherd's fea-girt reign; or, to the rocks
Dire-clinging, gathers his avarious food;
Or sweeps the fishy shore; or treasures up
The plumage, rifing full, to form the bed
Of luxury. And here a while the Mufe,
High hovering o'er the broad cœrulean scene,
Sees Caledonia, in romantic view:
Her airy mountains, from the waving main,
Invested with a keen diffufive sky,
Breathing the foul acute; her forefts huge,
Incult, robuft, and tall, by Nature's hand
Planted of old; her azure lakes between,
Pour'd out extensive, and of watery wealth
Full; winding deep, and green, her fertile vales; 885
With many a cool translucent brimming flood
Wash'd lovely from the Tweed (pure parent Aream,
Whose pastoral banks first heard my Doric reed,
With, fylvan Jed, thy tributary brook)
To where the north-inflated tempeft foams
O'er Orca's or Betubium's highest peak :
Nurfe of a people, in misfortune's school
Train'd up to hardy deeds; foon visited
By Learning, when before the Gothic rage
She took her western flight. A manly race,
Of unfubmitting fpirit, wife, and brave;
Who ftill through bleeding ages ftruggled hard,
(As well unhappy Wallace can attest,
Great patriot-hero! ill-requited chief!)
To hold a generous undiminish'd state;
Too much in vain! Hence of unequal bounds
Impatient, and by tempting glory borne
O'er every land, for every land their life
Has flow'd profufe, their piercing genius plann'd,
And fwell'd the pomp of peace their faithful toil. 905
As from their own clear north, in radiant streams,
Bright over Europe burfts the Boreal Morn.
Oh, is there not fome patriot, in whose power.
That beft, that godlike Luxury is plac'd,
Of bleffing thousands, thousands yet unborn,
Through late pofterity? fome, large of foul,
To chear dejected industry? to give
A double harvest to the pining fwain ?
And teach the labouring hind the sweets of toil?
How, by the finest art, the native robe
To weave; how, white as Hyperborean snow,
To form the lucid lawn; with venturous oar
How to dafh wide the billow; nor look on,
Shamefully paffive, while Batavian fleets
Defraud us of the glittering finny fwarms,
That heave our friths, and crowd upon our fhores;
How all-enlivening trade to roufe, and wing
The profperous fail, from every growing port,
Uninjur'd, round the fea-encircled globe;
And thus, in foul united as in name,
Bid Britain reign the mistress of the deep?
Yes, there are fuch. And full on thee, Argyll,
Her hope, her stay, her darling, and her boaft,
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