No dim electric streams, (the northern dawn,) With meek effulgence quiver'd o'er the lawn; No star benignant shot one transient ray 440 To guide or light the wanderer on her way. Round the dark craggs the murmuring whirlwinds blow, Woods groan above, and waters roar below; As o'er the steeps with pausing foot she moves, The pitying Dryads shriek amid their groves; 445 She flies,--she stops,--she pants--she looks behind, And hears a demon howl in every wind. --As the bleak blast unfurls her fluttering vest, Cold beats the snow upon her shuddering breast; Through her numb'd limbs the chill sensations dart, 450 And the keen ice bolt trembles at her heart. "I sink, I fall! oh, help me, help!" she cries, Her stiffening tongue the unfinish'd sound denies; Tear after tear adown her cheek succeeds, And pearls of ice bestrew the glittering meads; 455 Congealing snows her lingering feet surround, Arrest her flight, and root her to the ground; With suppliant arms she pours the silent prayer; Her suppliant arms hang crystal in the air; Pellucid films her shivering neck o'erspread, 460 Seal her mute lips, and silver o'er her head, Veil her pale bosom, glaze her lifted hands, And shrined in ice the beauteous statue stands. --DOVE'S azure nymphs on each revolving year For fair TREMELLA shed the tender tear; 465 With rush-wove crowns in sad procession move, And sound the sorrowing shell to hapless love." Here paused the MUSE,--across the darken'd pole Sail the dim clouds, the echoing thunders roll; The trembling Wood-nymphs, as the tempest lowers, 470 Lead the gay Goddess to their inmost bowers; Hang the mute lyre the laurel shade beneath, And round her temples bind the myrtle wreath. --Now the light swallow with her airy brood Skims the green meadow, and the dimpled flood; 475 Loud shrieks the lone thrush from his leafless thorn, Th' alarmed beetle sounds his bugle horn; Each pendant spider winds with fingers fine His ravel'd clue, and climbs along the line; Gay Gnomes in glittering circles stand aloof 480 Beneath a spreading mushroom's fretted roof; Swift bees returning seek their waxen cells, And Sylphs cling quivering in the lily's bells. Through the still air descend the genials showers, And pearly rain-drops deck the laughing flowers. INTERLUDE. _Bookseller_. Your verses, Mr. Botanist, consist of _pure description_, I hope there is _sense_ in the notes. _Poet_. I am only a flower-painter, or occasionally attempt a landskip; and leave the human figure with the subjects of history to abler artists.