In dumb despair the sailor stands, The frantic merchant wrings his hands, Advent'rous hope clings to the yard, And sinking wretches shriek unheard: Whilst on the land, the matron ill at rest, Thinks of the distant main, and heaves her heavy breast. The peasants leave their ruin'd home, And o'er the fields distracted roam: Insensible the 'numbed infant sleeps, And helpless bending age, weak and unshelter'd weeps. Low shrinking fear, in place of state, Skulks in the dwellings of the great. The rich man marks with careful eye, Each wasteful gust that whistles by; And ill men fear'd with fancied screams Sit list'ning to the creaking beams. At break of ev'ry rising squall On storm-beat' roof, or ancient wall, Full many a glance of fearful eye Is upward cast, till from on high, From cracking joist, and gaping rent, And falling fragments warning sent, Loud wakes around the wild affray, 'Tis all confusion and dismay. Now powerful but inconstant in its course, The tempest varies with uncertain force. Like doleful wailings on the lonely waste, Solemn and dreary sounds the weaning blast. Exhausted gusts recoiling growl away, And, wak'd anew, return with feebler sway; Save where between the ridgy mountains pent, The fierce imprison'd current strives for vent, With hollow howl, and lamentation deep, Then rushes o'er the plain with partial sweep. A parting gust o'erscours the weary land, And lowly growls along the distant strand: Light thro' the wood the shiv'ring branches play, And on the ocean far it slowly dies away. AN ADDRESS TO THE NIGHT. A FEARFUL MIND. Uncertain, awful as the gloom of death, The Night's grim shadows cover all beneath. Shapeless and black is ev'ry object round, And lost in thicker gloom the distant bound. Each swelling height is clad with dimmer shades, And deeper darkness marks the hollow glades. The moon in heavy clouds her glory veils, And slow along their passing darkness sails; While lesser clouds in parted fragments roam, And red stars glimmer thro' the river's gloom. Nor cheerful voice is heard from man's abode, Nor sounding footsteps on the neighb'ring road; Nor glimm'ring fire the distant cottage tells; On all around a fearful stillness dwells: The mingled noise of industry is laid, And silence deepens with the nightly shade. Though still the haunts of men, and shut their light, Thou art not silent, dark mysterious Night, The cries of savage creatures wildly break Upon thy quiet; birds ill-omen'd shriek; Commotions strange disturb the rustling trees; And heavy plaints come on the passing breeze. Far on the lonely waste, and distant way, Unwonted sounds are heard, unknown of day. With shrilly screams the haunted cavern rings; And heavy treading of unearthly things Sounds loud and hollow thro' the ruin'd dome; Yea, voices issue from the secret tomb.