Out-lives them all; and from his bury'd flock
Retiring, full of rumination fad,

Laments the weakness of these latter times.

But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport
Is hurried wild, let not fuch horrid joy
E'er ftain the bofom of the BRITISH FAIR.
Far be the spirit of the chace from them!
Uncomely courage, unbefeeming skill;
To fpring the fence, to rein the prancing fteed;
The cap, the whip, the masculine attire ;
In which they roughen to the sense, and all
The winning softness of their fex is loft.
In them 'tis graceful to diffolve at woe;
With every motion, every word, to wave
Quick o'er the kindling cheek the ready blush;
And from the smallest violence to shrink
Unequal, then the lovelieft in their fears;
And by this filent adulation, foft,
To their protection more engaging Man.
O may their eyes no miferable fight,
Save weeping lovers, fee! a nobler game,
Thro' Love's enchanting wiles purfu'd, yet fled,
In chace ambiguous. May their tender limba
Float in the loose fimplicity of dress !
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 languish; with smooth step,
Disclosing motion in its every charm,

To fwim along, and swell 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 Society its highest tafte;

Well-ordered Home Man's beft delight to make; And by fubmiffive wisdom, modeft skill,

With every gentle care-eluding art,

To raise the virtues, animate the blifs,
And fweeten all the toils of human life:
This be the female dignity, and praise.

Ye fwains now haften to the hazel bank;
Where, down yon dale, the wildly-winding brook
Falls hoarfe from fteep to fteep. In close array,
Fit for the thickets and the tangling fhrub,
Ye virgins come. For you their latest song
The woodlands raife; the clustering nuts for you
The lover finds amid the fecret shade;

And, where they burnish on the topmost bough,

With active vigour crushes down the tree;
Or fhakes them ripe from the refigning husk,
A gloffy fhower, and of an ardent brown,
As are the ringlets of MELINDA's hair:
MELINDA! form'd with every grace complete,
Yet these neglecting, above beauty wife,
And far tranfcending fuch a vulgar praife.
Hence from the busy 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 shower
Inceffant melts away. The juicy pear
Lies, in a foft profufion, scattered round.
A various fweetnefs fwells the gentle race;
By Nature's all-refining hand prepar'd;
Of temper'd fun, and water, earth, and air,
In ever-changing compofition mixt.
Such, falling frequent thro' the chiller night,
The fragrant ftores, the wide-projected heaps
Of apples, which the lufty-handed year,
Innumerous, o'er the blushing orchard shakes.
A various spirit, fresh, delicious, keen,
Dwells in their gelid pores; and, active, points

The piercing cyder for the thirsty tongue :
Thy native theme, and boon inspirer too,
PHILLIPS, Pomona's bard, the second thou
Who nobly durft, in rhyme-unfetter'd verfe,
With BRITISH freedom fing the BRITISH fong:
How, from Silurian vats, high-sparkling wines
Foam in transparent floods; fome strong, to cheer
The wintry revels of the labouring hind;
And tasteful fome, to cool the fummer-hours.
In this glad feason, while his sweetest beams
The fun fheds equal o'er the meekened day;
Oh lofe me in the green delightful walks
Of, DODINGTON, thy feat, ferene, and plain ;
Where fimple Nature reigns; and every view,
Diffufive, spreads the pure Dorfetian downs,
In boundless profpect; yonder fhagg'd with wood,
Here rich with harveft, and there white with flocks!
Meantime the grandeur of thy lofty dome,
Far-fplendid, feizes on the ravish'd eye.
New beauties rife with each revolving day;

New columns fwell; and ftill the fresh Spring finds
New plants to quicken, and new groves to green,
Full of thy genius all! the Mufes' feat:

Where in the secret bower, and winding walk,

For virtuous YOUNG and thee they twine the bay.

Here wandering oft, fir'd with the restless 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 funny wall,

Where Autumn bafks, with fruit empurpled deep,
My pleafing Theme continual prompts my thought:
Prefents the downy peach; the shining plum;
The ruddy, fragrant nectarine; and dark,
Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious fig.
The vine too here her curling tendrils shoots;
Hangs out her clufters, glowing to the south;
And scarcely wishes for a warmer sky.

Turn we a moment Fancy's rapid flight
To vigorons 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 encreas'd, the heightened blaze.
Low bend the weighty boughs. The clufters clear,
Half thro' the foliage feen, or ardent flame,
Or fhine transparent; while perfection breathes
White o'er the turgent film the living dew.