The frighted birds the rattling branches shun,

That wave and glitter in the distant sun.

When if a sudden gust of wind arise,

The brittle forest into atoms flies:

The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends,

And in a spangled shower the prospect ends.

Or if a southern gale the region warm,

And by degrees unbind the wintry charm;

The traveller a miry country sees,

And journeys sad beneath the dropping trees.