O may their eyes no miferable fight,
Save weeping lovers, fee! a nobler game,
Through love's enchanting wiles pursued, yet fled,
In chafe ambiguous. May their tender limbs
Float in the loofé fimplicity of drefs!
And, fashion'd all to harmony, alone
Know they to feize the captivated foul,
In rapture warbled from love-breathing lips;
To teach the lute to languifh; with fmooth ftep,
Difclofing motion in its every charm,
Te fwim along, and fwell the mazy dance;
To train the foliage o'er the fnowy lawn;
To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page;
To lend new flavour to the fruitful year,
And heighten Nature's dainties: in their race
To rear their graces into fecond life;
To give fociety its highest taste;

Well-ordered home man's beft delight to make;
And by fubmiffive wisdom, modest skill,
With every gentle care-eluding art,
To raife the virtues, animate the blifs,
And sweeten all the toils of human life:

This be the female dignity and praife.

Ye (wains, now haften to the hazel bank;
Where, down yon dale, the wildly-winding brook
Falls boarfe from fteep to steep. In close array,
Fit for the thickets, and the tangling fhrub,
Ye virgias come. For you their latest fong
The woodlands raife; the clustering nuts for you
The lover finds amid the secret shade;
And, where they burnish on the topmost bough,"
With active vigour crushes down the tree;
Or fhakes them ripe from the refigning hufk,
A gloffy fhower, and of an ardent brown,
As are the ringlets of Melinda's hair:
Melinda! form'd with every grace complete,
Yet thefe neglecting, above beauty wife,
And far tranfcending fuch a vulgar praife.
Hence from the bufy joy-refounding fields,
in cheerful error, let us tread the maze
Of Autumn, unconfin'd; and tafte, reviv'd,
The breath of orchard big with bending fruit.
Obedient to the breeze and beating ray,
From the deep-loaded bough a mellow fhower
Incant melts away. The juicy pear
Lies, in a foft profufion, scatter'd round.
A various sweetness fwells the gentle race;
By Nature's all-refining hand peprar'd;
Of temper❜d fun, and water, earth, and air,
la ever-changing compofition mixt.
Such, falling frequent through the chiller night
The fragrant ftores, the wide-projected heaps
Of apples, which the lufty-handed year,
Innumerous, o'er the blufhing orchard fhåkes.
A various fpirit, fresh, delicious, keen,
Dwells in their gelid pores; and, active, points
The piercing cyder for the thirty tongue:
Thy native theme, and boon infpirer too,
Philips, Pomona's bard, the fecond thou
Who robly durft, in rhyme-unfetter'd verfe,
With British freedom fing the British fong:
How, from Silurian vats, high-fparkling wines
Icam in tranfparent floods; fome ftrong, to cheer
The wintery revels of the labouring hind;
And tafteful fome, to cool the fummer-hours.

In this glad feafon, while his fweetest beams
The fun heds equal o'er the meeken'd day;
Oh, lofe me in the green delightful walks
VOL. IX.

Of, Doddington, thy feat, fercne, and plain;
Where fimple Nature reigns; and every view,
Diffusive, spreads the pure Dorfetian downs,
In boundless profpect yonder flagg'd with wood,
Here rich with harvest, and there white with flocks!
Meantime the grandeur of thy lofty dome,
Far-fplendid, feizes on the ravifh'd eye.
New beauties rife with each revolving day;
New columns fwell, and fill the fresh Spring fiads
New plants to quicken, and new groves to green.
Full of thy genius all! the mufes' feat:
Where in the fecret bower, and winding walk,
For virtuous Young and thee they twine the bay
Here wandering oft, fir'd with the reftlefs thirst
Of thy applaufe, I folitary court

Th' infpiring breeze and meditate the book
Of nature ever open: aiming thence,
Warm from the heart, to learn the moral fong.
Here, as I fteal along the fufiny wall,
Where Autumn bafks, with fruit empurpled deef
My pleafing theme continual prompts my thoughts
Prefents the downy peach; the fhining plumb;
The ruddy, fragrant nectarine; and dark,
Beneath his ample leaf, the lufcious fig.
The vine too here her curling tendrils fhoots;
Hangs out her clusters, glowing to the fouth;
And fcarcely wishes for a warmer fky.
Turn we a moment fancy's rapid flight
To vigorous foils, and climes of fair extent;
Where, by the potent fun, elated high,
The vineyard fwells refulgent on the day;
Spreads o'er the vale; or up the mountain climbs
Profufe; and drinks amid the funny rocks,
From cliff to cliff increas'd, the heighten'd blaze.
Low bend the weighty boughs. The clusters clear'
Half through the foliage feen, or ardent flame,
Or fhine transparent; while perfection breathes
White o'er the turgent film the living dew.
As thus they brighten with exalted juice,
Touch'd into flavour by the mingling ray;
The rural youth, and virgins o'er the field,
Each fond for each to cull th' autumnal prime,
Exulting rove, and fpeak the vintage nigh.
Then comes the crufhing fwain; the country floats
And foams unbounded with the mafhy flood;
That by degrees fermented and refin'd,
Round the rais'd nations pours the cup of joy
The claret fmooth, red as the lip we prefs
In fparkling fancy, while we drain the bowl;
The mellow-tafted Burgundy; and quick,
As is the wit it gives; the gay Champagne.

Now, by the cool declining year condens'd,
Defcend the copious exhalations, check'd
As up the middle fky unfeen they ftote,
And roll the doubling fogs around the hill.
No more the mountain, horrid, vaft, fublime,
Who pours a fweep of rivers from his fides,
And high between contending kingdoms rears.
The rocky long divifion fills, the view
With great variety; but in a night
Of gathering vapour, from the baffled fenfe
Sinks dark and dreary. Thence expanding far,
The huge duf, gradual, fwallows up the plain
Vanish the woods; the dim-feen river fecis
Sullen, and flow, to roll the mifty wave.
Ev'n in the height of noon oppreft, the fun
Sheds weak, and blunt, his wide refracted ray ;
Whence glaring oft, with many a broaden'd orb,

He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth,
Seen through the turbid air, beyond the life
Objects appear; and, wilder'd, 'o'er the waite
The shepherd talks gigantic. Till at last
Wreath'd dun around, in deeper circles ftill
Succeffive clofing, fits the general fog
Unbounded o'er the world; and, mingling thick,
A formlefs gray confufion covers all.
As when of old (fo fung the Hebrew bard)
Light, uncollected, through the chaos urg'd
Its infant way; nor order yet had drawn
His lovely train from out the dubious gloom.

These roving mists, that constant now begin
To fmoke along the hilly country, thefe,
With weighty rains, and melted Alpine fnows,
The mountain-cifterns fill, thofe ample ftores

Of water, fcoop'd among the hollow rocks; play, Whence gush the ftreams, the ceafelefs fountains And their unfailing wealth the rivers draw..

1

Some fages fay, that, where the numerous wave/
For ever lafhes the refounding fhore,
Drill'd through the fandy ftratum, every way,
The waters with the fandy ftratum rife;
Amid whofe angles infinitely ftrain'd,
They joyful leave their jaggy falts behind,
And clear and fweeten, as they foak along.
Nor tops the reftlefs fluid, mounting still,
Though oft amidst th' irriguous vale it fprings;
But to the mountain courted by the fand,
That leads it darkling on in faithful maze,
Far from the parent-main, it boils again
Fresh into day; and all the glittering hill

Is bright with fpouting rills. But hence this vain
Amufive dream! why fhould the waters love
To take fo far a journey to the hills,
When the sweet vallies offer to their toil
Inviting quiet, and a nearer bed?
Or if, by blind ambition led aftray,
They muft afpire; why fhould they fudden stop
Among the broken mountain's rufhy dells,
And, ere they gain its highest peak, defert
Th' attractive fand that charm'd their courfe fo
Befides, the hard agglomerating falts,
The foil of ages, would impervious choke
Their fecret channels; or, by flow degrees,
High as the hills protrude the fwelling vales;
Old ocean too, fuck'd through the porous globe,
Had long ere now forfook his horrid bed,
And brought Deucalion's watery times again.

[long?

Say then, where lurk the vast eternal fprings,
That, like creating Nature, lie conceal'd
From mortal eye, yet with their lavish ftores
Refresh the globe, and all its joyous tribes?
O, thou pervading genius, given to man,
To trace the fecrets of the dark abyfs,

O, lay the mountains bare! and wide display
Their hidden ftructure to th' astonish'd view!
Strip from the branching Alps their piny load;
The huge incumbrance of horrific woods
From the Afian Taurus, from Imaus ftretch'd
Athwart the roving Tartar's fullen bounds!
Give opening Hemus to my fearching eye,
And high Olympus pouring many a fream!
O, from the founding fummits of the north,
The Dofrine hills, through Scandinavia roll'd
To farthest Lapland and the frozen main;
From lofty Caucafus, far-feen by thofe
Who in the Cafpian and black Euxine toil;

From cold Riphean rocks, which the wild Rais
Believes the fory girdle of the world;
And all the dreadful mc ntains, wrapt in ftorm,
Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods;
O, fweep th' eternal fnows! hung o'er the deep
That ever works beneath his founding bafe,
Bid Atlas, propping heaven, as poets feign,
His fubterranean wonders fpread! unveil
The miny caverns, blazing on the day,
Of Abyffinia's cloud compelling cliffs,
And of the bending Mountains + of the Moon!
O'ertopping all thefe giant fons of earth,
Let the dire Andes, from the radiant line,
Stretch'd to the ftormy feas that thunder round
The fouthern pole, their hideous deeps anfold!
Amazing feene! Behold! the glooms difclofe,
I fee the rivers in their infant beds!
Deep, deep I hear them, labouring to get free!
I fee the leaning ftrata, artful rang'd;
The gaping fiffures to receive the rains,
The melting fhows, and ever-dripping fogs.
Strow'd bibulous above. I fee the fands,
The pebbly gravel next, the layers then
Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths,
The gutter'd rocks, and mazy-running clefts;
That, while the stealing moifture they tranfmit,
Retard its motion, and forbid its walle.
Beneath th' inceffant weeping of thefe drains,
I fee the rocky fyphons stretch'd-immense,
The mighty refervoirs, of harden'd chalk,
Or ftiff compacted clay, capacious form'd.
O'erflowing thence, the congregated tores,
The cry!
yftal treasures of the liquid world,
Through the ftirr'd fands a bubbling paffage bul;
And fwelling out, around the middle steep,
Or from the bottoms of the bofom'd hills,
pure cfiufion flow. United, thus,

In

Th' exhaling fun, the vapour-burden'd air,
The gelid mountains, that to rain condens'd
Thefe vapours in continual current draw,
And fend them o'er the fair-divided earth,
In bounteous rivers to the deep again,
A focial commerce hold, and firm fupport
The full-adjusted harmony of things.

When Autumn featters his departing gleams
Warn'd of approaching Winter, gather'd, playh
The fwallow-people; and tors'd wide around,
O'er the calm iky, in convolution swift,
The feather'd eddy floats; rejoicing once,
Ere to their wintery flumbers they retire;
In clusters clung, beneath the mouldering bank
And where, unpierc'd by frot, the cavern fwc
Or rather into warmer climes convey'd,
With other kindred birds of feason, there
They twitter cheerful, till the vernal months
Invite them welcome back; for, thronging, no
Innumerous wings are in commotion all.

Where the Rhine lofes his majestic force In Belgian plains, won from the raging deep, By diligence amazing, and the ftrong Unconquerable hand of liberty,

The Mufcovites call the Ripbean Mountains liki Cameny poys, that is, the great ftony girdle; caufe they fuppofe them to encompass the whole earth. A range of mountains in Africa that ferron almost all Menemelepa.

The ftork-affembly meets; for many a day,
Confulting deep, and various, ere they take
Their arduous voyage through the liquid fky.
And now their rout defign'd, their leaders chofe,
Their tribes adjusted, clean'd their vigorous wings;
And many a circle, many a short effay,
Wheel'd round and round, in congregation full
The figur'd flight afcends; and, riding high
The aerial billows, mixes with the clouds.

Or where the northern ocean, in vaft whirls,
Boils round the naked melancholy ifles
Of fairest Thule, and th' Atlantic furge
Pours in among the formy Hebrides;
Who can recount what tranfmigrations there
Are annual made? what nations come and go?
And how the living clouds on clouds arife?
Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air
And rude refounding fhore are one wild cry.
Here the plain harmlefs native his fmail flock,
And herd diminutive of many hues,
Tends on the little ifland's verdant fwell,
The hepherd's fea-girt reign; or, to the rocks
Dire-clinging, gathers his ovarious food;
Or fweeps the fishy fhore; or treasures up
The plumage, rifing full, to form the bed
Of luxury. And here a while the mufe,
High hovering o'er the broad cerulean scene,
Sees Caledonia, in romantic view:
Her airy mountains, from the waving main,
Invefted with a keen diffusive sky,
Breathing the foul acute; her forefts huge,
lacult, robuft, and tall, by Nature's hand
Planted of old; her azure lakes between,
Pour'd out extenfive, and of watery wealth
Full; winding deep, and green, her fertile vales;
With many a cool translucent brimming flood
Wah'd lovely from the Tweed (pure parent fiream
Whofe paftoral banks first heard my Doric reed,
With, fylvan Jed, thy tributary brook)
To where the north-inflated tempefl foams
O'er Orca's or Betubium's highest peak:
Narfe of a people, in misfortune's school
Tran'd up to hardy deeds; foon vifited
By laming, when before the Gothic rage
She took her western flight. A manly race,
Of unfubmitting fpirit, wife, and brave;
Who fill through bl eding ages ftruggled hard,
As well unhappy Wallace can atteft,
Great patriot-hero! ill-requited chief!)
To hold a generous undiminish'd state;
Too much in vain! Hence of unequal bounds
Impatient, and by tempting glory borne
O'er every land, for every land their life
Has flow'd profufe, thei- piercing genius plann'd,
And fwell'd the pomp of peace their faithful toil.
As from their own clear north, in radiant ftreams,
Eright over Europe burfts the boreal morn.

Oh, is there not fome patriot, in whose power That beft, that godlike luxury is plac'd, Of bleffing thousands, thoufands yet unborn, Through late pofterity? fome, large of foul, To cheer dejected industry? to give A double harvest to the pining fwain? And teach the labouring hind the fweets of toil? How, by the finest art, the native robe To weave; how, white as Hyperborean fnow, To form the lucid lawn; with venturous oar How to dash wide the billow; nor look on,

Shamefully paffive; while Batavian fleets
Defraud us of the glittering finny fwarms,
That heave our friths, and crowd upon our fhores;
How all-enlivening trade to roufe, and wing
The profperous fail from every growing port,
Uninjur'd, round the fea-encircled globe;
And thus, in foul united as in name,
Bid Britain reign the miftrefs of the deep?

K

Yes, there are fuch. And full on thee, Argyll,
Her hope, her ftay, her darling, and her boaft,
From her first patriots and her heroes sprung,
Thy fond imploring country turns her eye;
In thee, with all a mother's triumph, fees
Her every virtue, every grace combin'd,
Her genius, wisdom, her engaging turn,
Her pride of honour, and her courage try'd,
Calm, and intrepid, in the very throat
Of fulphurous war, on Tenier's dreadful field.
Nor lefs the palm of peace inwreathes thy brow?
For, powerful as thy fword, from thy rich tongue
Perfuafion flows, and wins the high debate;
While mix'd in thee combine the charm of youth,.
The force of manhood, and the depth of age.
Thee, Forbes, too, whom every worth attends,
As truth fincere, as weeping friendship kind,
Thee, truly generous, and in filence great,

Thy country feels through her reviving arts,
Plann'd by thy wisdom, by thy foul inform'd;
And feldom has fhe known a friend like thee.

But fee the fading many-coloured woods, Shade deepening over fhade, the country round Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dufk, and dun, Of every hue, from wan-declining green

To footy dark. Thefe now the lonefome mufe, Low-whispering, lead into their leaf-ftrown walks, And give the feafon in its latest view.

Meantime, light-fhadowing all, a fober calm Fleeces unbounded ether; whofe leaft wave Stands tremulous, uncertain where to turn The gentle current: while illumin'd wide, The dewy-skirted clouds imbibe the fun, And through their lucid veil his foften'd force Shed o'er the peaceful world. Then is the time For those whom wildom and whom Nature charm, To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd, And foar above this little fcene of things; To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet; To foothe the throbbing paffions into peace; And woo lone Quiet in her filent walks.

Thus folitary, and in penfive guise,

Oft let me wander o'er the ruffet mead, And through the fadden'd grove, where scarce is heard

One dying firain, to cheer the woodman's toil.
Haply fome widow'd fongfter pours his plaint,
Far, in faint warblings, through the tawny copfe.
While congregated thrufhes, linnets, larks,

And each wild throat, whofe artlefs ftrains fo late
Swell'd all the mufic of the fwarming fhades,
Robb'd of their tuneful fouls, now shivering fit
On the dead tree, a dull defpondent flock;
With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes,
And nought fave chattering difcord in their note.
O, let not, aim'd from fome inhuman eye,
The gun the mufic of the coming year
Destroy; and harmless, unfufpecting harm,
Lay the weak tribes a miferable prey,
In mingled murder, flattering on the ground!

The pale defcending year, yet pleafing ftill, A gentler mood infpires; for now the leaf Inceffant ruftles from the mournful grove; Oft ftartling fuch as, ftudious, walk below, And flowly circles through the waving air. But fhould a quicker breeze among the boughs Sob, o'er the fky the leafy deluge ftreams; Till chok'd, and matted with the dreary shower, 'The foreft-walks, at every rifing gale, Roll wide the wither'd wafte, and whistle bleak. Fled is the blafted verdure of the fields;

And, fhrunk into their beds, the flowery race Their funny robes refign. Ev'n what remain'd Of ftronger fruits falls from the naked tree; And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around The defolated prospect thrills the foul.

He comes! he comes! in every breeze the power Of philofophic melancholy comes! His near-approach the fudden starting tear, The glowing cheek, the mild dejected air, The foften'd feature, and the beating heart, Pierc'd deep with many a virtuous pang, declare. O'er all the foul his facred influence breathes! Inflames imagination; through the breaft Infufes every tenderness; and far Beyond dim earth exalts the fwelling thought. Ten thousand thoufand fleet ideas, fuch As never mingled with the vulgar dream, Crowd faft into the mind's creative eye. As faft the correfpondent paflions rife, As varied, and as high: Devotion rais'd To rapture, and divine aftonishment; The love of nature unconfin'd, and, chief, Of human race; the large ambitious with, To make them bleft; the figh for fuffering worth Loft in obfcurity; the noble fcorn Of tyrant pride; the fearless great refolve; The wonder which the dying patriot draws, Infpiring glory through remotest time; Th' awaken'd throb for virtue, and for fame; The fympathies of love, and friendship dear; With all the focial offspring of the heart.

Oh, bear me to vaft embowering fhades, To twilight groves, and vifionary vales; To weeping grottoes, and prophetic glooms; Where angel forms athwart the folemn dufk Tremendous fweep, or feem to fweep along; And voices more than human, through the void Deep-founding, feize th' enthusiastic ear!

Or is this gloom too much? Then lead, ye That o'er the garden and the rural feat [powers, Prefide, which fhining through the cheerful land In countless numbers bleft Britannia fees; O, lead me to the wide extended walks, The fair majeftic paradife of Stowe *! Not Perfian Cyrus on Ionia's fhore E'er faw fuch fylvan fcenes; fuch various art By genius fir'd, fuch ardent genius tam'd By cool judicious art; that, in the ftrife, All-beauteous Nature fears to be outdong. And there, O Pitt, thy country's carly boat, 'There let me fit beneath the fhelter'd flopes, Or in that Temple where in future times, Thou well fhalt merit a distinguish'd name;

The feat of the Lord Viscount Cobham. The Temple of Virtue in Stowe Gardens.

And, with thy converse bleft, catch the last fmiles
Of Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods.
While there with thee th' enchanted round I walk,
The regulated wild, gay fancy then
Will tread in thought the groves of Attic land;
Will from thy ftandard taste refine her own,
Correct her pencil to the pureft truth
Of Nature, or, the unimpaflion'd shades
Forfaking, raife it to the human mind.
Or if hereafter fhe, with jufter hand,
Shall draw the tragic fcene, inftruct her thou,
To mark the varied movements of the heart,
What every decent character requires,
And every paffion fpeaks: O, through her ftrain
Breathe thy pathetic eloquence! that moulds
Th' attentive fenate, charms, perfuades, exalts,
Of honeft zeal th' indignant lightning throws,
And flakes corruption on her venal throne.
While thus we talk, and through Elyfian vales
Delighted rove, perhaps a figh escapes:
What pity, Cobham, thou thy verdant files
Of order'd trees fhouldft here inglorious range,
Inftead of fquadrons flaming o'er the field,
And long embattled hofts! when the proud for,
The faithlefs vain difturber of mankind,
Infulting Gaul, has rous'd the world to war;
W!. n keen, once more, within their bounds to pres
Thofe polifh'd robbers, thofe ambitious flaves,
The British youth would hail thy wife command,
Thy temper'd ardor, and thy veteran skill.

The western fun withdraws the fhorten'd day;
And humid evening, gliding o'er the sky,
In her chill progrefs, to the ground condens'd
The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooz,
Where marshes ftagnate, and where rivers wind,
Clufter the rolling fogs, and fwim along

The dusky-mantled lawn. Mean-while the moon Full-orb'd, and breaking through the fcatter'd clouds,

Shows her broad vifage in the crimson'd eaft.
Turn'd to the fun direct, her fpotted disk,
Where mountain's rife, unbrageous dales defcends
And caverns deep, as optic tube descries,
A fmaller earth, gives us his blaze again,
Void of its flame, and sheds a fofter day.
Now through the pafling cloud fhe feems to floop,
Now up the pure cerulean rides fublime.
Wide the pale deluge floats, and ftreaming mild
O'er the fky'd mountain to the fhadowy vale,
While rocks and floods reflect the quivering glean
The whole air whitens with a boundless tide
Of filver radiance, trembling round the world.

But when half blotted from the fky her light,
Fainting, permits the ftarry fires to burn
With keener luftre through the depth of heaven;
Or near extinét her deaden'd orb appears,
And fearce appears, of fickly beamlefs white;
Oft in this feafon, filent from the north
A blaze of meteors fhoots: enfweeping first
The lower fkies, they all at once converge
High to the crown of heaven, and all at once
Relapfing quick as quickly reafcend,
And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew,
All ether courfing in a maze of light.

From look to look, contagious through the crowd, The panic runs, and into wondrous fhapes Th' appearance throws: armies in meet array, Throng'd with acrial fpears and steeds of fire;

Till the long lines of full-extended war

In bleeding fight commixt, the fanguine flood
Rolls a broad flaughter o'er the plains of heaven.
As thus they scan the vifionary fcene,
On all fides fwell the fuperftitious din,
Incontinent; and busy frenzy talks

Of blood and battle; cities overturn'd,
And late at night in fwallowing earthquake funk,
Or hideous wrapt in fierce afcending flame;
Of fallow famine, inundation, storm;
Of pestilence, and every great diftrefs;
Empires fubvers'd, when ruling fate has ftruck
Th' unalterable hour: ev'n Nature's felf
is deem'd to totter on the brink of time.
Not fo the man of philofophic eye,
And infpect fage; the waving brightness he
Caricus furveys, inquifitive to know
The caufes, and materials, yet unfix'd,
Of this appearance beautiful and new.

Now black, and deep, the night begins to fall,
A bade immenfe. Sunk in the quenching gloom,
Magnificent and vaft, are heaven and earth.
Order confounded lies; all beauty void;
Diftinction loft; and gay variety

One univerfal blot: fuch the fair power
Of Light, to kindle and create the whole.
Drear is the state of the benighted wretch,

Who then, bewilder'd, wanders through the dark,
Fall of pale fancies, and chimeras huge;
Nor vifited by one directive ray,
From cottage ftreaming, or from airy hall.
Perhaps, impatient as he stumbles

on,

Struck from the root of flimy rufhes, blue, The wild-fire fcatters round, or gather'd trails A length of flame deceitful o'er the moss: Whither decoy'd by the fantastic blaze, Now loft, and now renew'd, he finks abforpt, Rider and horse, amid the miry gulf: While ftill, from day to day, his pining wife And plaintive children his return await, In wild conjecture loft. At other times, Sort by the better genius of the night, lanorious, gleaming on the horse's mane, The meteor fits; and fhows the narrow path, That winding leads through pits of death, or elfe Intruds him how to take the dangerous ford. The lengthen'd night elaps'd, the morning fhines Serese, in all her dewy beauty bright, Untolding fair the last autumnal day. And now the mounting fun difpels the fog; The rigid hoar-froft melts before his beam; And hung on every fpray, on every blade Of grafs, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round. Ah, fee, where robb'd, and murder'd, in that pit Lies the ftill heaving hive! at evening fnatch'd, Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, And fix'd o'er fulphur: while, not dreaming ill, The happy people, in their waxen cells, Sat tending public cares, and planning fchemes Of temperance, for Winter poor; rejoic'd To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores, Sedden the dark oppreffive fteam afcends; And, us'd to milder fcents, the tender race, By thousands, tumble from their honey'd domes, Convolv'd, and agonizing in the dust. And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring, Intent from flower to flower? for this you toil'd Cenfelefs the burning Summer-heats away?

For this in Autumn fearch'd the blooming waste,
Nor loft one funny gleam? for this fad fate?
O, man! tyrannic lord! how long, how long,
Shall proftrate nature groan beneath your rage,
Awaiting renovation? when oblig'd,

Muft you destroy? Of their ambrofial food
Can you not borrow; and, in just return,
Afford them shelter from the wintery winds?
Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own
Again regale them on fome fmiling day?
See where the ftony bottom of their town
Looks defolate, and wild; with here and there
A helpless number, who the ruin'd state
Survive, lamenting weak, caft out to death.
Thus a proud city, populous and rich,
Full of the works of peace, and high in joy,
At theatre or feast, or funk in fleep,

(As late, Palermo, was thy fate) is seiz'd
By fome dread earthquake, and convulfive hurl'd
Sheer from the black foundation, stench involv'd,
Into a gulf of blue fulphureous flame.

Hence every harfher fight! for now the day,
O'er heaven and earth diffus'd, grows warm, and
Infinite fplendor! wide invefting all. [high,
How still the breeze! fave what the filmy threads
Of dew evaporate brufhes from the plain.
How clear the cloudlefs fky! how deeply ting'd
With a peculiar blue! th' ethereal arch

How fwell'd immenfe! amid whofe azure thron'd
The radiant fun how gay! how calm below
The gilded earth! the harvest-treasures all
Now gather'd in, beyond the rage of storms,
Sure to the fwain; the circling fence fhut up;
And inftant Winter's utmoft rage defy'd.
While, loose to feftive joy, the country round
Laughs with the loud fincerity of mirth, [youth,
Shook to the wind their cares. The toil-frung
By the quick fenfe of mufic taught alone,
Leaps wildly graceful in the lively dance.
Her every charm abroad, the village-toaft,
Young, buxom, warm, in native beauty rich,
Darts not unmeaning looks; and, where her eye
Points an approving fmile, with double force,
The cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines.
Age too fhines out; and, garrulous, recounts
The feats of youth. Thus they rejoice; nor think
That, with to-morrow's fun, their annual toil
Begins again the never-cealing round.

Oh, knew he but his happiness, of men
The happieft he! who, far from public rage,
Deep in the vale, with a choice few retir'd,
Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life. [gate,
What though the dome be wanting, whofe proud
Each morning, vomits out the sneaking crowd
Of flatterers falfe, and in their turn abus'd?
Vile intercourfe! What though the glittering robe,
Of every hue reflected light can give,
Or floating loofe, or ftiff with mazy gold,
The pride and gaze of fools! opprefs him not?
What though, from utmost land and sea purvey'd,
For him each rarer tributary life

Bleeds not, and his infatiate table heaps
With luxury and death? what though his bow!
Flames not with coftly juice: nor funk in beds,
Oft of gay care, he toffes out the night,
Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle ftate?
What though he knows not thofe fantastic joys
That still amufe the wanton, ftill deceive;