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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode II: On The Winter-Solstice</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>The radiant ruler of the year<br>At length his wintry goal attains;<br>Soon to reverse the long career,<br>And northward bend his steady reins.<br>Now, piercing half Potosi's height,<br>Prone rush the fiery floods of light<br>Ripening the mountain's silver stores:<br>While, in some cavern's horrid shade,<br>The panting Indian hides his head,<br>And oft the approach of eve implores.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II<br>But lo, on this deserted coast<br>How pale the sun! how thick the air!<br>Mustering his storms, a sordid host,<br>Lo, winter desolates the year,<br>The fields resign their latest bloom;<br>No more the breezes waft perfume,<br>No more the streams in music roll:<br>But snows fall dark, or rains resound;<br>And, while great nature mourns around,<br>Her griefs infect the human soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III<br>Hence the loud city's busy throngs<br>Urge the warm bowl and splendid fire:<br>Harmonious dances, festive songs<br>Against the spiteful heaven conspire.<br>Meantime perhaps with tender fears<br>Some village-dame the curfew hears,<br>While round the hearth her children play:<br>At morn their father went abroad;<br>The moon is sunk and deep the road;<br>She sighs, and wonders at his stay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV<br>But thou, my lyre, awake, arise,<br>And hail the sun's returning force:<br>Even now he climbs the northern skies,<br>And health and hope attend his course.<br>Then louder howl the aërial waste,<br>Be earth with keener cold imbrac'd,<br>Yet gentle hours advance their wing;<br>And fancy, mocking winter's might,<br>With flowers and dews and streaming light<br>Already decks the newborn spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V<br>O fountain of the golden day,<br>Could mortal vows promote thy speed,<br>How soon before thy vernal ray<br>Should each unkindly damp recede!<br>How soon each hovering tempest fly,<br>Whose stores for mischief arm the sky,<br>Prompt on our heads to burst amain,<br>To rend the forest from the steep,<br>Or, thundering o'er the Baltic deep,<br>To whelm the merchant's hopes of gain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI<br>But let not man's unequal views<br>Presume o'er nature and her laws:<br>'Tis his with grateful joy to use<br>The indulgence of the sovran cause;<br>Secure that health and beauty springs<br>Through this majestic frame of things,<br>Beyond what he can reach to know;<br>And that heaven's all-subduing will,<br>With good the progeny of ill,<br>Attempereth every state below.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII<br>How pleasing wears the wintry night,<br>Spent with the old illustrious dead!<br>While, by the taper's trembling light,<br>I seem those awful scenes to tread<br>Where chiefs or legislators lie,<br>Whose triumphs move before my eye<br>In arms and antique pomp array'd;<br>While now i taste the Ionian song,<br>Now bend to Plato's godlike tongue<br>Resounding through the olive shade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII<br>But should some cheerful, equal friend<br>Bid leave the studious page awhile,<br>Let mirth on wisdom then attend,<br>And social ease on learned toil.<br>Then while, at love's uncareful shrine,<br>Each dictates to the god of wine<br>Her name whom all his hopes obey,<br>What flattering dreams each bosom warm,<br>While absence, heightening every charm,<br>Invokes the slow-returning May!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX<br>May, thou delight of heaven and earth,<br>When will thy genial star arise?<br>The auspicious morn, which gives thee birth,<br>Shall bring Eudora to my eyes.<br>Within her sylvan haunt behold,<br>As in the happy garden old,<br>She moves like that primeval fair:<br>Thither, ye silver-sounding lyres,<br>Ye tender smiles, ye chaste desires,<br>Fond hope and mutual faith, repair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">X<br>And if believing love can read<br>His better omens in her eye,<br>Then shall my fears, o charming maid,<br>And every pain of absence die:<br>Then shall my jocund harp, attun'd<br>To thy true ear, with sweeter sound<br>Pursue the free Horatian song:<br>Old Tyne shall listen to my tale,<br>And echo, down the bordering vale,<br>The liquid melody prolong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mark+Akenside">Mark Akenside</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=454933" data-title="Ode II: On The Winter-Solstice de Mark Akenside" data-description="I
The radiant ruler of the year
At length his wintry goal attains;
Soon to reverse the long career,
And northward bend his steady reins.
Now, piercing half Potosi's height,
Prone rush the fiery floods of light
Ripening the mountain's silver stores..."></div>
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