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,
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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