When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie
To raise his being, and serene his foul.
Can he forbear to join the general smile

Of Nature? Can fierce paffions vex his breaft,
While every gale is peace, and every grove
Is melody? Hence! from the bounteous walks
Of flowing Spring, ye fordid fons of earth,
Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe;
Or only lavish to yourselves; away!

But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide thought,
Of all his works, CREATIVE BOUNTY burns
With warmest beam; and on your open front
And liberal eye, fits, from his dark retreat
Inviting modeft Want. Nor, till invok'd
Can restless goodness wait; your active search
Leaves no cold wint'ry corner unexplor'd;
Like filent-working HEAVEN, furprising oft
The lonely heart with unexpected good.
For you the roving fpirit of the wind

Blows Spring abroad; for you the teeming clouds
Defcend in gladfome plenty o'er the world;
And the sun sheds his kindest rays for you,
Ye flower of human race! In these green days,
Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head;
Life flows afresh; and young-ey'd Health exalts

The whole creation round. Contentment walks
The funny glade, and feels an inward blifs
Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings
To purchase. Pure ferenity apace

Induces thought, and contemplation ftill.
By fwift degrees the love of Nature works,
And warms the bofom; till at last sublim'd
To rapture, and enthusiastic heat,

We feel the present DEITY, and tafte
The joy of GOD to fee a happy world!
Thefe are the facred feelings of thy heart,
Thy heart inform'd by reason's purer ray,
O LYTTELTON, the friend! thy paffions thus
And meditations vary, as at large,

Courting the Mufe, thro' Hagley Park thou ftrayeft;
Thy British Tempe! There along the dale,

With woods o'erhung, and fhagg'd with moffy rocks,
Whence on each hand the gushing waters play,
And down the rough cascade white-dashing fall,
Or gleam in lengthened vista thro' the trees,
You filent fteal; or fit beneath the shade
Of folemn oaks, that tuft the fwelling mounts.
Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand,
And penfive liften to the various voice

Of ruling peace: the herds, the flocks, the birds,

The hollow-whispering breeze, the plaint of rills,
That, purling down amid the twisted roots
Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shake
On the footh'd ear. From thefe abftracted oft,
You wander thro' the philofophic world;
Where in bright train continual wonders rise,
Or to the curious or the pious eye,

And oft, conducted by historic truth,
You tread the long extent of backward time ;
Planning, with warm benevolence of mind,
And honeft zeal unwarp'd by party-rage,
BRITANNIA's weal; how from the venal gulph
To raise her virtue, and her arts revive.

Or, turning thence thy view, these graver thoughts
The Mufes charm: while, with sure taste refin'd,
You draw th' infpiring breath of ancient fong;
Till nobly rifes, emulous, thy own,

Perhaps thy lov'd LUCINDA fhares thy walk,
With foul to thine attun'd. Then Nature all
Wears to the lover's eye a look of love;
And all the tumult of a guilty world,
Tofs'd by ungenerous paffions, finks away.
The tender heart is animated peace;
And as it pours its copious treasures forth,
In varied converfe, foftening every theme,

You frequent-paufing, turn, and from her eyes,
Where meekened fenfe, and amiable grace,
And lively sweetnefs dwell, enraptur'd, drink
That nameless spirit of ethereal joy,

Unutterable happiness! which love,

Alone, beftows, and on a favour'd few.
Meantime you gain the height, from whose fair brow
The bursting profpect spreads immenfe around:

And fnatch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn,
And verdant field, and darkening heath between,
And villages embofom'd foft in trees,

And fpiry towns by furging columns mark'd
Of houshold smoke, your eye excursive roams:
Wide-ftretching from the Hall, in whofe kind haunt
The Hofpitable Genius lingers ftill,

To where the broken landscape, by degrees,
Afcending, roughens into rigid hills ;

O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds

That skirt the blue horizon, dufky rife.

Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year,

Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom
Shoots, lefs and lefs, the live carnation round;
Her lips blush deeper sweets; fhe breathes of youth;
The fhining moisture fwells into her eyes,

In brighter flow; her wishing bofom heaves,

With palpitations wild; kind tumults feize
Her veins; and all her yielding foul is love.
From the keen gaze her lover turns away,
Full of the dear ecftatic power, and fick
With fighing languifhment. Ah then, ye fair!
Be greatly cautious of your fliding hearts:
Dare not th' infectious figh; the pleading look,
Downcaft, and low, in meek fubmiffion drest,
But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue,
Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth,
Gain on your purpos'd will. Nor in the bower,
Where woodbinds flaunt, and rofes fhed a couch,
While Evening draws her crimson curtains round,
Truft your foft minutes with betraying Man,

And let th' aspiring youth beware of love,
Of the smooth glance beware; for 'tis too late,
When on his heart the torrent foftnefs pours.
Then wisdom proftrate lies, and fading fame
Diffolves in air away; while the fond foul,
Wrapt in gay vifions of unreal blifs,
Still paints th' illufive form; the kindling grace;
Th' inticing fmile; the modeft-feeming eye,
Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying heaven,
Lurk fearchlefs cunning, cruelty, and death:
And still falfe-warbling in his cheated ear,