Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils
Around the ftone, or from the hollow'd bank
Reverted plays in undulating flow,

There throw, nice-judging, the delufive fly;
And as you lead it round in artful curve,
With eye attentive mark the springing game.
Strait as above the furface of the flood

405

They wanton rife, or urg'd by hunger leap,

410

Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook:

Some lightly toffing to the graffy bank,

And to the shelving fhore flow-dragging fome,
With various hand proportion'd to their force.
If yet too young, and eafily deceiv'd,

A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod,
Him piteous of his youth and the short space
He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heaven,
Soft difengage, and back into the stream

415

The fpeckled captive throw. But should you lure 420
From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots

Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook,
Behoves you then to ply your finest art.

Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly;

And oft attempts to feize it, but as oft
The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear.

425

At laft, while haply o'er the fhaded fun

Paffes a cloud, he desperate takes the death,

With fullen plunge. At once he darts along,
Deep ftruck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line; 430
Then feeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed,
The cavern'd bank, his old fecure abode;
And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool,
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand,
That feels him ftill, yet to his furious courfe
Gives way, you, now retiring, following now
Across the ftream, exhauft his idle rage:
Till floating broad upon his breathless fide,
And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore
You gaily drag your unrefifting prize.

435

440

THUS pass the temperate hours: but when the fun Shakes from his noon-day throne the fcattering clouds, Even fhooting listless languor thro' the deeps;

Then feek the bank where flowering elders croud,

Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale

445

Its balmy effence breathes, where cowflips hang

The dewy head, where purple violets lurk,

With all the lowly children of the fhade:
Or lie reclin❜d beneath yon fpreading afh,

449 Hung

Hung o'er the fteep; whence, borne on liquid wing,.
The founding culver fhoots; or where the hawk,
High, in the beetling cliff, his aïry builds,
There let the claffic page thy fancy lead

Thro' rural scenes; fuch as the Mantuan fwain
Paints in the matchless harmony of fong.

Or catch thyself the landskip, gliding swift
Athwart imagination's vivid eye;

Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd,
And loft in lonely mufing, in the dream,
Confus'd, of careless folitude, where mix
Ten thousand wandering images of things,
Soothe every guft of paffion into peace;
All but the swellings of the soften'd heart,
That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind,

455

460

BEHOLD yon breathing prospect bids the muse 465. Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint Like Nature? Can imagination boast,

Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?

Or can it mix them with that matchless skill,

And lose them in each other, as appears

In every bud that blows? If fancy then
Unequal fails beneath the pleafing task,

470

Ah what shall language do? ah where find words
Ting'd with so many colours; and whose power,
To life approaching, may perfume my lays
With that fine oil, thofe aromatic gales,
That inexhauftiye flow continual round?

475

YET, tho' fuccefslefs, will the toil delight. Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts Have felt the raptures of refining love;

And thou, AMANDA, come, pride of my fong!
Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself!

Come with thofe downcaft eyes, fedate and sweet,

480

Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul, Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd, 485 Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart;

Oh come! and while the rofy-footed May

Steals blushing on, together let us tread
The morning-dews, and gather in their prime
Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair, 499
And thy lov'd bofom that improves their sweets,

SEE, where the winding vale its lavish stores, Irriguous, fpreads. See, how the lily drinks The latent rill, fcarce oozing thro' the grafs,

Of

Of growth luxuriant; or the humid bank,

In fair profufion, decks. Long let us walk,

Where the breeze blows from yon extended field

Of bloffom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast

A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence

495

Breathes thro' the sense, and takes the ravish'd soul, 500

Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot,

Full of fresh verdure, and unnumber'd flowers,
The negligence of Nature, wide, and wild;
Where, undifguis'd by mimic Art, she spreads
Unbounded beauty to the roving eye,

Here their delicious tafk the fervent bees,

In swarming millions, tend; around, athwart,
Thro' the soft air, the busy nations fly,

505

Cling to the bud, and with inferted tube,

Suck its pure effence, its ethereal foul;

510

And oft, with bolder wing, they foaring dare

The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows,

And yellow load them with the luscious fpoil.

Ar length the finish'd garden to the view

Its viftas opens, and its alleys green.

515

Snatch'd thro' the verdant maze, the hurried eye

Distracted wanders; now the bowery walk

Of