S84 MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS. Unhappy change! When nature's meaner springs Fir'd to impetuous ferments, break all order; When little restless atoms rise and reign Tyrants in sov'reign uproar, and impose Ideas on the mind; confus'd ideas Of non - existents and impossibles. Who can describe them? Fragments of old dreams, Borrow'd from midnight, torn from fairy fields And fairy skies, and regions of the dead, Abrupt, ill-sorted. O'tis all confusion! If I but close my eyes, strange images In thousand forms and thousand colours rise ; Stars, rainbows, moons, green dragons, bears and ghosts, In endless medley rush upon the stage, And dance and riot wild in reason's court Above control. I'm in a raging storm Where seas and skies are blended, while my soul Like some light worthless chip of floating cork Is tost from wave to wave: Now overwlielm'd With breaking floods, I drown, and seem to lose All being: Now high- mounted on the ridge Of a tall foaming surge, I'm all at once Caught up into the storm, and ride the wind, The whistlingwind: unmanageable steed, And feeble rider ! Hurried many a league Over the rising hills of roaring brine, Thro' airy wilds unknown, with dreadful speed And infinite surprise ; till some few minutes Have spent the blast, and then perhaps I drop Near to the peaceful coast ; some friendly billow Lodges me on the beach, and I find rest: Short rest I find; for the next rolling wave Snatches me back again ; then ebbing far Sets me adrift, and I'm borne off to sea, Helpless, amidst the bluster ofthe winds, Beyond the ken ofshore. Ah, when will these tumultuous scenes be gone? When shall this weary spirit, tost with tempests, Harrass'd and broken, reach the port of rest, And hold it firm ? When shall this wayward flesh With all th' irregular springs of vital movement Ungovernable, return to sacred order, And pay their duties to the ruling mind.* Peace of Conscience, and Prayer for Health. YET gracious God, amidst the storms of nature, Thine eyes beheld a sweet and sacred calm Reign thro' the realms of conscience : All within Lies peaceful and compos'd. 'Tis wondrous grace Keeps off thy terrors from this bumble bosom, l'ho' stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene In penitential peace and cheerful hope, Sprinkl'd and guarded with atoning blood. Thy vital smiles amidst this desolation, Like heav'nly sun -beams hid behind the clouds, Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance Cleaving the gloom ; the fair celestial light
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