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And in one mighty ftream, invifible,
Immenfe, the whole excited atmosphere,
Impetuous rushes o'er the founding world:
Strain'd to the root, the ftooping forest pours
A ruftling fhower of yet untimely leaves.
High-beat, the circling mountains eddy in,
From the bare wild, the diffipated form,
And fend it in a torrent down the vale.
Expos'd, and naked, to its utmost rage,
Thro' all the fea of harvest rolling round,
The billowy plain floats wide; nor can evade,
Tho' pliant to the blaft, its feizing force;
Or whirl'd in air, or into vacant chaff

Shook wafte. And fometimes too a burst of rain,
Swept from the black horizon, broad, defcends
In one continuous flood. Still over head
The mingling tempeft weaves its gloom, and ftill
The deluge deepens; till the fields around
Lie funk, and flatted, in the fordid wave.
Sudden, the ditches fwell; the meadows swim.
Red, from the hills, innumerable streams
Tumultuous roar; and high above its banks
The river lift; before whofe rufhing tide,
Herds, flocks, and harvefts, cottages, and fwains,
Roll mingled down; all that the winds had spar'd

In one wild moment ruin'd; the big hopes,
And well-earn'd treasures of the painful year.
Fled to fome eminence, the husbandman,
Helpless beholds the miferable wreck
Driving along; his drowning ox at once
Defcending, with his labours fcatter'd round,
He fees; and inftant o'er his fhivering thought
Comes Winter unprovided, and a train
Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, then,
Be mindful of the rough laborious hand,
That finks you foft in elegance and ease;
Be mindful of those limbs in ruffet clad,
Whofe toil to yours is warmth, and graceful pride;
And oh be mindful of that sparing board,

Which covers yours with luxury profuse,
Makes your glass fparkle, and your fense rejoice!
Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains,
And all-involving winds have fwept away.

Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy,
The gun faft-thundering, and the winded horn,
Would tempt the Muse to fing the rural Game:
How in his mid-career, the spaniel ftruck,
Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nofe,
Outftretch'd, and finely fenfible, draws full,
Fearful, and cautious, on the latent prey;

As in the fun the circling covey bask
Their varied plumes, and watchful every way,
Thro' the rough ftubble turn the secret eye.
Caught in the meshy fnare, in vain they beat
Their idle wings, intangled more and more:
Nor on the furges of the boundless air,
Tho' borne triumphant, are they fafe; the gun,
Glanc'd juft, and fudden, from the fowler's eye
O'ertakes their founding pinions; and again,
Immediate, brings them from the towering wing,
Dead to the ground; or drives them wide-difpers'd,
Wounded, and wheeling various, down the wind.

These are not subjects for the peaceful muse,
Nor will she ftain with fuch her spotless fong;
Then most delighted, when the focial fees
The whole mix'd animal-creation round
Alive and happy. 'Tis not joy to her,
This falfely-cheerful barbarous game of death;
This rage of pleasure, which the restless youth
Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn;
When beasts of prey retire, that all night long,
Urg'd by neceffity, had rang'd the dark,

As if their confcious ravage fhun'd the light,
Afham'd. Not fo the fteady tyrant Man,
Who with the thoughtless infolence of power

Inflam'd, beyond the most infuriate wrath

Of the worst monster that e'er roam'd the wafte,
For fport alone pursues the cruel chace,

Amid the beamings of the gentle days.
Upbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage,
For hunger kindles you, and lawless want;
But lavish fed, in Nature's bounty roll'd,
To joy at anguish, and delight in blood,
Is what your horrid bofoms never knew..
Poor is the triumph o'er the timid hare!
Scar'd from the corn, and now to fome lone feat
Retir'd: the rufhy fen; the ragged furze,
Stretch'd o'er the ftony heath; the ftubble chapt;
The thiftly lawn; the thick entangled broom;
Of the same friendly hue, the wither'd fern ;
The fallow ground laid open to the fun,
Concoctive; and the nodding fandy bank,
Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain brook.
Vain is her beft precaution; tho' fhe fits
Conceal'd, with folding ears; unsleeping eyes,
By Nature rais'd to take the horizon in;
And head couch'd clofe betwixt her hairy feet,
In act to spring away. The scented dew
Betrays her early labyrinth; and deep,
In fcattered fullen openings, far behind,

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With every breeze she hears the coming ftorm.
But nearer, and more frequent, as it loads
The fighing gale, she springs amaz'd, and all
The favage foul of game is up at once:
The pack full-opening, various; the fhrill horn
Refounded from the hills; the neighing steed,
Wild for the chace; and the loud hunter's fhout;
O'er a weak, harmless, flying creature, all
Mix'd in mad tumult, and difcordant joy.

The ftag too, fingled from the herd, where long
He rang'd the branching monarch of the fhades,
Before the tempeft drives. At first, in speed
He, fprightly, puts his faith; and, rous'd by fear,
Gives all his fwift aërial foul to flight;

Against the breeze he darts, that way the more
To leave the leffening murderous cry behind:
Deception fhort! tho' fleeter than the winds
Blown o'er the keen-air'd mountain by the north,
He bursts the thickets, glances thro' the glades,
And plunges deep into the wildest wood;
If flow, yet fure, adhesive to the track
Hot-teaming, up behind him come again
Th' inhuman rout, and from the fhady depth
Expel him, circling thro' his every fhift.
He fweeps the foreft oft; and fobbing fees

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