As the induction of Mr. Thomson’s Winter has been celebrated for its sublimity, so the conclusion has likewise a claim to praise, for the tenderness of the sentiments, and the pathetic force of the expression.
’Tis done!—Dread winter
spreads her latest glooms,
And reigns tremendous o’er the conquer’d
year.
How dead the vegetable kingdom lies!
How dumb the tuneful! horror wide extends
Her desolate domain. Behold, fond
man!
See here thy pictur’d life; pass
some few years,
Thy flow’ring spring, thy summer’s
ardent strength,
Thy sober autumn fading into age,
And page concluding winter comes at last,
And shuts the scene.—
He concludes the poem by enforcing a reliance on providence, which will in proper compensate for all those seeming severities, with which good men are often oppressed.
—Ye good distrest!
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Beneath life’s pressure, yet bear
up awhile,
And what your bounded view which only
saw
A little part, deemed evil, is no more:
The storms of Wintry time will quickly
pass,
And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
The poem of Winter meeting with such general applause, Mr. Thomson was induced to write the other three seasons, which he finished with equal success. His Autumn was next given to the public, and is the most unfinished of the four; it is not however without its beauties, of which many have considered the story of Lavinia, naturally and artfully introduced, as the most affecting. The story is in itself moving and tender. It is perhaps no diminution to the merit of this beautiful tale, that the hint of it is taken from the book of Ruth in the Old Testament.
The author next published the Spring, the induction to which is very poetical and beautiful.
Come gentle Spring, etherial mildness
come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil’d
in a show’r
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
It is addressed to the countess of Hertford, with the following elegant compliment,
O Hertford! fitted, or to shine in courts
With unaffected grace, or walk the plains,
With innocence and meditation joined,
In soft assemblage; listen to the song,
Which thy own season paints; while nature
all
Is blooming, and benevolent like thee.—
The descriptions in this poems are mild, like the season they paint; but towards the end of it, the poet takes occasion to warn his countrymen against indulging the wild and irregular passion of love. This digression is one of the most affecting in the whole piece, and while he paints the language of a lover’s breast agitated with the pangs of strong desire, and jealous transports, he at the same time dissuades the ladies from being too credulous in the affairs of gallantry. He represents the natural influence of spring, in giving a new glow to the beauties of the fair creation, and firing their hearts with the passion of love.