And the cold flames shall flash along your hand; When, lost in wonder, you shall walk and gaze On weeds that sparkle, and on waves that blaze[61]. 110 The ocean too has winter-views serene, When all you see through densest fog is seen; When you can hear the fishers near at hand Distinctly speak, yet see not where they stand; Or sometimes them and not their boat discern, Or half-conceal'd some figure at the stern; The view's all bounded, and from side to side Your utmost prospect but a few ells wide; Boys who, on shore, to sea the pebble cast, Will hear it strike against the viewless mast; 120 While the stern boatman growls his fierce disdain, At whom he knows not, whom he threats in vain. 'Tis pleasant then to view the nets float past, Net after net till you have seen the last; And as you wait till all beyond you slip, A boat comes gliding from an anchor'd ship, Breaking the silence with the dipping oar And their own tones, as labouring for the shore-- Those measured tones which with the scene agree, And give a sadness to serenity. 130 All scenes like these the tender maid should shun, Nor to a misty beach in autumn run; Much should she guard against the evening cold, And her slight shape with fleecy warmth infold; This she admits, but not with so much ease Gives up the night-walk when th' attendants please. Her have I seen, pale, vapour'd through the day, With crowded parties at the midnight play; Faint in the morn, no powers could she exert; At night with Pam delighted and alert; 140 In a small shop she's raffled with a crowd, Breathed the thick air, and cough'd and laugh'd aloud; She, who will tremble if her eye explore "The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor;" Whom the kind doctor charged, with shaking head, At early hour to quit the beaux for bed: She has, contemning fear, gone down the dance, Till she perceived the rosy morn advance; Then has she wonder'd, fainting o'er her tea, Her drops and juleps should so useless be: 150 Ah! sure her joys must ravish every sense, Who buys a portion at so vast expense. Among those joys, 'tis one at eve to sail On the broad river with a favourite gale; When no rough waves upon the bosom ride, But the keel cuts, nor rises on the tide; Safe from the stream the nearer gunwale stands, Where playful children trail their idle hands, Or strive to catch long grassy leaves that float On either side of the impeded boat: 160 What time the moon, arising, shows the mud A shining border to the silver flood; When, by her dubious light, the meanest views, Chalk, stones, and stakes, obtain the richest hues; And when the cattle, as they gazing stand, Seem nobler objects than when view'd from land.