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And to the quire celestial THEE refound,
Th' eternal caufe, fupport, and end of all!
To me be Nature's volume broad-difplay'd;

And to peruse its all-instructing page,
Or, haply catching inspiration thence,
Some eafy paffage, raptur'd, to translate,
My fole delight; as thro' the falling glooms
Penfive I ftray, or with the rifing dawn
On Fancy's eagle-wing excurfive foar,

Now, flaming up the heavens, the potent fun
Melts into limpid air the high-rais'd clouds,
And morning fogs, that hovered round the hills
In party-colour'd bands; till wide unveil'd

The face of Nature fhines, from where earth feems,
Far-ftretch'd around, to meet the bending sphere.
Half in a blush of clustering rofes loft,
Dew-dropping Coolness to the fhade retires;
There, on the verdant turf, or flowery bed,
By gelid founts and careless rills to mufe;
While tyrant Heat, dispreading thro' the sky,
With rapid fway, his burning influence darts
On Man, and beaft, and herb, and tepid ftream.
Who can unpitying see the flowery race,
Shed by the morn, their new-flush'd bloom refign,
Before the parching beam? So fade the fair,

When fevers revel thro' their azure veins.
But one, the lofty follower of the fun,

Sad when he fets, fhuts up her yellow leaves,
Drooping all night; and, when he warm returns,
Points her enamour'd bofom to his ray.

The daw,

Home, from his morning task, the fwain retreats;
His flock before him ftepping to the fold:
While the full-udder'd mother lows around
The cheerful cottage, then expecting food,
The food of innocence, and health!
The rook and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks
That the calm village in their verdant arms,
Sheltering, embrace, direct their lazy flight;
Where on the mingling boughs they fit embower'd,
All the hot noon, till cooler hours arise.
Faint, underneath, the houfhold fowls convene ;
And, in a corner of the buzzing fhade,

The house-dog, with the vacant greyhound, lies,
Out-ftretch'd, and fleepy. In his slumbers one
Attacks the nightly thief, and one exults
O'er hill and dale; till, wakened by the wafp,
They starting fnap. Nor fhall the Mufe difdain
To let the little noify fummer-race

Live in her lay, and flutter thro' her fong:

Not mean tho' fimple; to the fun ally'd,
From him they draw their animating fire.
Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young
Come wing'd abroad; by the light air upborn,
Lighter, and full of foul. From every chink,
And fecret corner, where they flept away
The wintry ftorms; or rifing from their tombs,
To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,
Swarming they pour; of all the vary'd hues
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose.
Ten thousand forms! ten thoufand different tribes!
People the blaze. To funny waters fome
By fatal inftinct fly; where on the pool

They, sportive, wheel; or, failing down the stream,
Are fnatch'd immediate by the quick-ey'd trout,
Or darting falmon. Thro' the green-wood glade
Some love to ftray; there lodg'd, amus'd and fed,
In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make

The meads their choice, and vifit every flower,

And every
latent herb: for the fweet task,
To propagate their kinds, and where to wrap,
In what foft beds, their young yet undisclos❜d,
Employs their tender care. Some to the house,
The fold, and dairy, hungry, bend their flight;
Sip round the pail, or tafte the curdling cheese;

Oft, inadvertent, from the milky stream
They meet their fate; or, weltering in the bowl,
With powerlefs wings around them wrapt, expire.
But chief to heedlefs flies the window proves
A conftant death; where, gloomily retir'd,
The villain spider lives, cunning, and fierce,
Mixture abhorr'd! Amid a mangled heap
Of carcaffes, in eager watch he fits,
O'erlooking all his waving fnares around.
Near the dire cell the dreadlefs wanderer oft
Paffes, as oft the ruffian fhows his front;
The prey at last enfnar'd, he dreadful darts,
With rapid glide, along the leaning line;
And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs,
Strikes backward grimly pleas'd: the fluttering wing,
And fhriller found declare extreme distress,
And ask the helping hofpitable hand.

Refounds the living furface of the ground:
Nor undelightful is the ceafelefs hum,
To him who muses thro' the woods at noon;
Or drowsy shepherd, as he lies reclin'd,

With half-shut eyes, beneath the floating shade
Of willows grey, clofe-crowding o'er the brook.
Gradual, from these what numerous kinds descend,
Evading even the microscopic eye!

Full Nature fwarms with life; one wond'rous mafs Of animals, or atoms organiz'd,

Waiting the vital Breath, when PARENT-HEAVEN
Shall bid his fpirit blow. The hoary fen,

In putrid fteams, emits the living cloud
Of peftilence. Thro' fubterranean cells,
Where fearching fun-beams fcarce can find a way,
Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf
Wants not its foft inhabitants. Secure,
Within its winding citadel, the ftone

Holds multitudes. But chief the foreft-boughs,
That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze,
The downy orchard, and the melting pulp
Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed
Of evanefcent infects. Where the pool
Stands mantled o'er with

green, invifible,

Amid the floating verdure millions stray.
Each liquid too, whether it pierces, fooths,
Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste,

With various forms abounds. Nor is the ftream
Of pureft crystal, nor the lucid air,

Tho' one tranfparent vacancy it seems,

Void of their unseen people. These, conceal'd By the kind art of forming HEAVEN, escape The groffer eye of Man: for, if the worlds

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