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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416267" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Man Perishing in the Snow: From Whence Reflections are Raised on the Miseries of Life.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As thus the snows arise; and foul and fierce,<br>All winter drives along the darken'd air;<br>In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain <br>Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend,<br>Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes,<br>Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain; <br>Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid<br>Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on,<br>From hill to dale, still more and more astray;<br>Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps,<br>Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home<br>Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth<br>In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul!<br>What black despair, what horror fill his heart!<br>When, for the dusky spot, which fancy feign'd<br>His tufted cottage rising through the snow,<br>He meets the roughness of the middle waste,<br>Far from the track, and blest abode of man;<br>While round him night resistless closes fast,<br>And ev'ry tempest howling o'er his head,<br>Renders the savage wilderness more wild.<br>Then throng the busy shapes into his mind,<br>Of cover'd pits, unfathomably deep,<br>A dire descent, beyond the pow'r of frost!<br>Of faithless bogs; of precipices huge,<br>Smooth'd up with snow; and what is land, unknown,<br>What water, of the still unfrozen spring, <br>In the loose marsh or solitary lake, <br>Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils.<br>These check his fearful steps; and down he sinks<br>Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift,<br>Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death,<br>Mix'd with the tender anguish nature shoots<br>Through the wrung bosom of the dying man,<br>His wife, his children, and his friends unseen.<br>In vain for him th' officious wife prepares<br>The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm; <br>In vain his little children, peeping out<br>Into the mingled storm, demand their sire,<br>With tears of artless innocence. Alas!<br>Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold; <br>Nor friends, nor sacred home. On ev'ry nerve<br>The deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense;<br>And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold,<br>Lays him along the snows a stiffen'd corse,<br>Stretch'd out and bleaching in the northern blast.<br>Ah, little think the gay licentious proud,<br>Whom pleasure, pow'r, and affluence surround;<br>They who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth,<br>And wanton, often cruel riot, waste;<br>Ah, little think they, while they dance along,<br>How many feel, this very moment, death,<br>All the sad variety of pain.<br>How many sink in the devouring flood,<br>Or more devouring flame. How many bleed,<br>By shameful variance betwixt man and man!<br>How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms,<br>Shut from the common air, and common use<br>Of their own limbs! How many drink the cup<br>Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread<br>Of misery! Sore pierc'd by wintry winds<br>How many shrink into the sordid hut<br>Of cheerless poverty! How many shake<br>With all the fiercer tortures of the mind,<br>Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse!<br>How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop<br>In deep retir'd distress! How many stand<br>Around the death-bed of their dearest friends,<br>And point out the parting anguish! Thought fond man<br>Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills,<br>That one incessant struggle render life,<br>One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate,<br>Vice in his high career would stand appall'd,<br>And heedless rambling impulse learn to think;<br>The conscious heart of charity would warm,<br>And her wide wish benevolence dilate;<br>The social tear would rise, the social sigh;<br>And into clear perfection, gradual bliss,<br>Refining still, the social passions work.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Thomson">James Thomson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416267" data-title="A Man Perishing in the Snow: From Whence Reflections are Raised on the Miseries of Life. de James Thomson" data-description="As thus the snows arise; and foul and fierce,
All winter drives along the darken'd air;
In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain 
Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend,
Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes,
Of horrid prospect, shag t..."></div>
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