Sect. i. A RHAPSODY.

3 '?

" How tedious are the winters there! how deep“ the horrors of the night, and how uncomfortable" even the light of day! The freezing windscc employ their fiercest breath , yet are not spent“ with blowing. The sea, which elsewhere is scarce" confined within its limits, lies here immured in“ walls of crystal. The snow covers the hills, and“ almost fills the lowest valleys. How wide and“ deep it lies, incumbent over the plains, hiding“ the sluggish rivers , the shrubs, and trees, the" dens of beasts, and mansions of distressed and<c feeble men! — See! where they lie confined,“ hardly secure against the raging cold, or the“ attacks of the wild beasts, now masters of the“ wasted field, and forced by hunger out of the“ naked woods. — Yet not disheartened , such is" the force of human breasts, but thus provided“ for, by art and prudence, the kind, compensating“ gifts of heaven, men and their herds may Wait" for a release. For at length the sun approaching," melts the snow , sets longing men at liberty,“ and affords them means and time to make pro-" vision against the next return of cold. It breaks'“ the icy fetters of the main; where vast fea-" monsters pierce through floating islands, with" arms which can withstand the crystal rock:“ whilst others, who of themselves seem great as" istands, are by their bulk alone armed against“ all but man ; whose superiority over creatures“ of such stupendous size and force, should make-“ him mindful of his privilege of reason, and force" him humbly to adore the great composer of these