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 stands,
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 forest drear,
From morn to eve his folitary task.
Shaggy, and lean, and fhrewd, with pointed ears
And tail cropp'd fhort, half lurcher and half cur,
His dog attends him. Close behind his heel
Now creeps he flow; and now with many a frisk
Wide-scamp'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' adjust 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.
And half on foot, they brush the fleecy flood,
Conscious, 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 thievifhly refolv'd
T'escape th' impending famine, often scar'd
As oft retutn, 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.
To fad neceffity, the cock foregoes
His wonted strut, and wading at their head
With well-confider'd steps, feems to refent
His alter'd gait and stateliness retrench'd.
How find the myriads, that in fummer cheer
The hills and vallies with their ceaseless fongs,
Due fuftenance, or where fubfift they now?
Earth yields them nought: th' imprifon'd worm is fafe
Beneath the frozen clod; all feeds of herbs
Lie cover'd close, and berry-bearing thorns
That feed the thrush (whatever fome fuppofe)
Afford the smaller minstrels no supply.
The long protracted rigor of the year
Thins all their num'rous flocks. In chinks and holes
Ten thousand seek an unmolested end,
As instinct 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 labor more; and perch'd aloft
By the way-fide, or stalking in the path,
Lean penfioners upon the trav'llers track,
Pick up their naufeous dole, though fweet to them,
Of voided pulfe or half-digefted grain.
The streams are loft amid the fplendid blank,
O'erwhelming all diftinction. 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 frost can bind it there; its utmoft force
Can but arreft the light and smokey mist
That in its fall the liquid fheet throws wide.
And fee where it has hung th' embroider'd banks
With forms fo various, that no pow'rs of art,
The pencil or the pen, may trace the scene!
Here glitt'ring turrets rife, upbearing high
(Fantastic mifarrangement!) on the roof
Large growth of what may feem the sparkling trees
And fhrubs of fairy land. The cryftal drops
That trickle down the branches, faft congeal'd,
Shoot into pillars of pellucid length,
And prop the pile they but adorn'd before.
Here grotto within grotto fafe defies
The fun-beam: there imbofs'd and fretted wild,
The growing wonder takes a thousand shapes
Capricious, in which fancy feeks in vain
The likeness of fome object feen before.
Thus nature works as if to mock at art,
And in defiance of her rival pow'rs;
By these fortuitous and random strokes
Performing fuch inimitable feats,
As fhe with all her rules can never reach.
Lefs worthy of applause, though more admir'd,
Because a novelty, the work of man,
Imperial mistress of the fur-clad Rufs !
Thy moft magnificent and mighty freak,
The wonder of the North. No forest fell
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