SONNET XXXIX.

When mourn the dark Winds o'er the lonely plain,

And from pale noon sinks, ere the fifth cold hour,

The transient light, Imagination's power,

With Knowledge, and with Science in her train,

Not unpropitious Hyems’ icy reign

Perceives; since in the deep and silent lour

High themes the rapt concent'ring Thoughts explore,

Freed from external Pleasure's glittering chain.

Then most the understanding's culture pays

Luxuriant harvest, nor shall Folly bring

Her aids obtrusive.— Then, with ardent gaze,

The INGENIOUS to their rich resources spring,

While sullen Winter's dull imprisoning days

Hang on the vacant mind with flagging wing.