'Tis morning; and the fun, with ruddy orb
Afcending, fires th' horizon; while the clouds,
That crowd away before the driving wind,
More ardent as the difk emerges more,
Refemble most fome city in a blaze,
Seen through the leaflefs wood. His flanting ray
Slides ineffectual down the fnowy vale,
And, tinging all with his own rofy hue,
From ev'ry herb and ev'ry spiry blade
Stretches a length of fhadow o'er the field.
Mine, fpindling into longitude immense,
In fpite of gravity, and fage remark
That I myself am but a fleeting fhade,
Provokes me to a smile. With eye afkance
I view the mufcular proportion'd limb
Transform'd to a lean fhank. The fhapeless pair,
As they defign'd to mock me, at my fide
Take ftep for ftep; and, as I near approach
The cottage, walk along the plaster'd wall,
Prepoft'rous fight! the legs without the man.
The verdure of the plain lies buried deep,
Beneath the dazzling deluge; and the bents,
And coarser grafs, upspearing o'er the rest,
Of late unfightly and unfeen, now shine
Confpicuous, and, in bright apparel clad
And fledg'd with icy feathers, nod fuperb.
The cattle mourn in corners where the fence
Screens them, and feem half petrified to fleep
In unrecumbent fadness. There they wait
Their wonted fodder; not like hung'ring man,
Fretful if unfupplied; but filent, meek,
And patient of the flow-pac'd fwain's delay.
He from the ftack carves out th' accuftom'd load,
Deep plunging, and again deep plunging oft,
His broad keen knife into the folid mafs:
Smooth as a wall the upright remnant ftands,
With fuch undeviating and even force
He fevers it away: no needlefs care,
Left ftorms fhould overfet the leaning pile
Deciduous, or its own unbalanc'd weight.
Forth goes the woodman, leaving unconcern'd
The cheerful haunts of man; to wield the axe
And drive the wedge, in yonder foreft drear,
From morn to eve his folitary task.
Shaggy, and lean, and fhrewd, with pointed ears
And tail cropp'd thort, half lurcher and half cur-
His dog attends him. Close behind his heel
Now creeps he flow;
a frisk
Wide-fcamp'ring, fnatches up the drifted fnow
With iv'ry teeth, or ploughs it with his fnout;
Then shakes his powder'd coat, and barks for joy.
Heedlefs of all his pranks, the sturdy churl
Moves right toward the mark; nor ftops for aught,
But now and then with preffure of his thumb
T'adjuft the fragrant charge of a short tube
That fumes beneath his nose: the trailing cloud
Streams far behind him, fcenting all the air.
Now from the rooft, or from the neighb'ring pale,
Where, diligent to catch the first faint gleam
Of fmiling day, they goffip'd fide by fide,
Come trooping at the housewife's well-known call
The feather'd tribes domeftic. Half on wing,
And half on foot, they brush the fleecy flood,
Confcious, and fearful of too deep a plunge.
The sparrows peep, and quit the fhelt'ring eaves
To feize the fair occafion. Well they eye
The scatter'd grain; and, thievishly refolv'd
T'escape th' impending famine, often scar'd,
As oft return-a pert voracious kind.
Clean riddance quickly made, one only care
Remains to each-the fearch of funny nook,
Or fhed impervious to the blaft. Refign'd
To fad neceffity, the cock foregoes
His wonted ftrut; and, wading at their head
With well-confider'd steps, seems to refent
His alter'd gait and stateliness retrench'd.
How find the myriads, that in summer cheer
The hills and vallies with their ceaseless fongs,
Due fuftenance, or where subfift they now?
Earth yields them nought: th' imprison'd worm is
Beneath the frozen clod; all feeds of herbs Lie cover'd clofe; and berry-bearing thorns, That feed the thrush, (whatever fome suppose) Afford the smaller minstrels no fupply.
The long protracted rigour of the year
Thins all their num'rous flocks. In chinks and holes
Ten thousand feek an unmolested end,
As inftinct prompts; felf-buried ere they die.
The very rooks and daws forfake the fields,
Where neither grub, nor root, nor earth nut, now
Repays their labour more; and, perch'd aloft
By the way-fide, or ftalking in the path,
Lean penfioners upon the trav'ler's track,
Pick up their naufeous dole, though sweet to them,
Of voided pulse or half-digested grain.
The ftreams are loft amid the fplendid blank,
O'erwhelming all distinction. On the flood,
Indurated and fixt, the fnowy weight
Lies undiffolv'd; while filently beneath,
And unperceiv'd, the current steals away.
Not fo where, fcornful of a check, it leaps
The mill-dam, dashes on the restless wheel,
And wantons in the pebbly gulph below:
No froft can bind it there; its utmost force
Can but arreft the light and fmoky mift
That in its fall the liquid sheet throws wide.
And fee where it has hung th' embroider'd banks
With forms fo various, that no pow'rs of art,
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