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The various twine of light, by thee disclos'd The foul disorder. Senseless, and deform'd,
And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full,
Er'n love itself is bitterness of soul,
That noble wish, that never-cloy'd desire,
Hope sickens with extravagance; and grief,
Of life impatient, into madness swells;
Form'd infinitely various, rex the mind
With endless storm: whence, deeply rankling, grows Their seeds abroad, blown them about in winds, The partial thought, a listless unconcern, Innumerous mix'd them with the nursing mould, Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good; The moistening current, and prolific rain.
Then dark disgust, and hatred, winding wiles, But who their virtues can declare? whọ pierce, Coward deceit, and ruffian violence; With vision pure, into these secret stores, At last, extinct each social feeling, fell Of health, and life, and joy? The food of man, And joyless inhumanity pervades While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told
And petrifies the heart. Nature disturb'd A length of golden years ; uniesh'd in blood, Is deem'd, vindictive, to have chang'd her course. A stranger to the savage arts of life,
Hence, in old dusky time, a deluge came: Death, rapine, carnage, surfeit, and disease ; When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arch'd The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world. The central waters round, impetuous rush'd,
The first fresh dawn then wak'd tie gladden'd With universal burst, into the gulph, of uncorrupted man, nor blush'd to see (race And o'er the high pild bills of fractur'd earth The sluggard sleep beneath its sacred beam : Wide dash'd the waves, in undulation rast; For their light slumbers gently fum'd away; Till, from the centre to the streaming clouds, And up they rose as vigorous as the Sun,
A shoreless ocean tumbled round the globe. Or to the culture of the willing glebe,
The Seasons since have, with severer sway, Or to the cheerful tendance of the flock.
Oppress'd a broken world: the Winter keen Meantime the song went round; and dance and sport, Shook forth his waste of snows; and Summer shot Wisdom and friendly talk, successive, stole His pestilential heats. Great Spring, before, Their hours away; while in the rosy vale. Green'd all the year; and fruits and blussoires Love breath'd his infant sighs, from anguish free,
blush'd, And full replete with bliss; save the sweet pain, In social sweetness, on the self-same bough. That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more.
Pure was the temperate air; and even calm Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed,
Perpetual reign'd, save what the zephyrs bland Was known among those happy sons of Heaven ; Breath'd o'er the blue expanse: for then nor storms For reason and benevolence were law.
Were taught to blow, nor hurricanes to rage; Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on.
Sound slept the waters; no sulphurrous glooms Clear shone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales, Swellid in the sky, and sent the lightning forth; And balmy spirit all. The youthful Sun
While sickly damps, and cold autumnal fogs, Shot his best rays, and still the gracious clouds Hung not, relaxing, on the springs of life. Drou'd fatness down; as o'er tbe swelling mead, But now, of turbid elements the sport, The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure. From clear to cloudy tost, from hot to cold, This when, emergent from the glooiny wood, And dry to moist, with inward-eating change, The glaring lion saw, his horrid heart
Our drooping days are dwindled down to nought, Was meekend, and he join'd his sullen joy, Their period finish'd ere 'tis well begun. For music held the whole in perfect peace :
And yet the wholesome herb neglected dies; Soft sigh'd the flute; the tender voice was heard, Though with the pure exhilarating soul Warbling the varied heart; the woodlands round Of nutriment and health, and vital powers, Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flowd Beyond the search of art, 'tis copious blest. In consonance. Such were those prime of days. For, with hot ravine fir'd, ensanguin'd man
But now those white unblemish'd manners,whence Is now become the lion of the plain, The fabling poets took their golden age,
And worse. The wolf, who from the nightly fold Are found no more amid these iron times,
Fierce drags the bleating prey, ne'er drunk her milk, These dregs of life ! Now the distemper'd mind Nor wore her warıning fleece: nor has the steer, Has lost that concord of harmonious powers, At whose strong chest the deadly tiger hangs, Which forms the soul of happiness ; and all E’er plough'd for him. They too are temper'd high, Is off the poise within: the passions all
With hunger stung and wild necessity, Have burst their bounds; and reason, half extinct, Nor lodges pity in their shaggy breast. Or impotent, or else approving, sees
But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay,
With every kind emotion in his heart,
The speckled captive throw. But should you lure And taught alone to weep; while from her lap From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs,
Of pendent trees, the monarch of the brook, And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain Behoves you then to ply your finest art. Or beams that gave them birth : shall he, fair form! Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly; Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on Heaven, And oft atteinpts to seize it, bat as oft E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, The dimpled water speaks bis jealous fear, And dip his tongue in gore? The beast of prey, At last, while haply o'er the shaded Sun Blood-stain'd, deserves to bleed: but you, ye flocks, Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death, What have ye done; ye peaceful people, what, With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, To merit death? you, who have given us milk Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line: In luscious streams, and lept us your own coat Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed, Against the winter's cold? And the plain ox, The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode; That harmless, honest, guileless animal,
And dies aloft, and founces round the pool, In what has he offended ? he, whose toil,
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, Patient and ever ready, clothes the land
That feels him still, yet to his furious course With all the pomp of harvest : shall he bleed, Gives way, you, now retiring, following now, And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage: Ev'n of the clown he feeds ? and that, perhaps, Till floating broad upon his breathless side, Ta swell the riot of th' autumnal feast,
And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore Won by bis labour ? Thus the feeling heart You gaily drag your unresisting prize. Would tenderly suggest: but 'tis enough,
Thus pass the temperate hours: but when the Sun In this late age, adventurous, to have touch'd Shakes from his noon-day throne the scattering Light on the numbers of the Samian sage.
clouds, High Heaven forbids the bold presumptuous strain, Ev'n shooting listless languor through the deeps; Whose wisest will has fix'd us in a state
Then seek the bank wnere flowering elders crond, That must not yet to pure perfection rise.
Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale Now when the first foul torrent of the brooks, Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang Swell’d with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away, The dewy head, where purple violets lark, And, whitening, down their mossy-tinctur'd stream With all the lowly children of the shade : Descends the billowy foam: now is the time, Or lie reclin'd beneath yon spreading ash, While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, Hung o'er the steep; whence, borne on liquid wing, To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly, The sounding culver shoots; or where the hawk, The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring,
High, in the beetling cliff, his aëry builds. Snatch'd from the hoary steed the floating line, There let the classic page the fancy lead And all thy slender wat’ry stores prepare.
Through rural scenes; such as the Mantuan swain But let not on thy hook the tortur'd worm, Paints in the matchless harmony of song. Convulsive, twist in agonizing folds;
Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift Which, by rapacious hunger swallow'd deep, Athwart imagination's vivid eye: Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breast Or by the vocal woods and waters lulld, Of the weak helpless uncomplaining wretch, And lost in lonely musing, in the dream, Harsh pain, and horrour to the tender hand. Confus'd, of careless solitude, where mix
When with his lively ray the potent Sun Ten thousand wandering images of things, Has pierc'd the streams, and rous'd the finny race, Soothe every gust of passion into peace ; Then issuing checrful, to thy sport repair ; All but the swellings of the soften'd heart, Chief should the western breezes curling play, That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds. Behold yon breathing prospect bids the Muse High to their fount, this day, amid the bills Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks; Like Nature? Can imagination boast, The next, pursue their rocky-channeld maze, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers? Down to the river, in whose ample wave
Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, Their little Naïads love to sport at large.
And lose them in each other, as appears Just in the dubious point, where with the pool In every bud that blows ? If fancy then Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task, Around the stone, or from the hollow'd bank Ah, what shall language do? ah, where find words Reverted plays in undulating flow,
Ting'd with so many colours; and whose power, There throw, nice judging, the delusive fly; To life approaching, may perfume my lays And as you lead it round in artful curve,
With that fine oil, those aromatic gales With eye attentive mark the springing game. That inexhaustive flow continual round? Straight as above the surface of the flood
Yet, though successless, will the toil delight. They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger leap, Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook : Have felt the raptures of refining love ; Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank,
And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song! And to the shelving shore, slow-dragging some, Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself! With various hand proportion'd to their force. Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, If yet too young, and easily deceiv'd,
Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul, A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod, Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd, Him, piteous of his youth and the short space Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart: He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heaven,
O come! and while the rosy-footed May Soft disengage, and back into the stream
Steals blushing on, together let us tread
The morning dews, and gather in their prime By thee the various vegetativë tribes,
See where the winding vale its lavish stores, By thee dispos'd into congenial soils,
At thy command the vernal Sun awakes la fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, The torpid sap, detruded to the root Where the breeze blows from yon extended field By wintery wióds; that now in fiuent dance, Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence
All this innumerous-colourd scene of things. Breaths through the sense, and takes the ravish'd As rising from the vegetable world Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot, [soul. My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend, Full of fresh verdure, and unnumber'd lowers, My panting Muse; and hark how loud the woods The negligence of Nature, wide, and wild ; Invite you forth in all your gayest trim. Where, undisguis'd by mimic Art, she spreads Lend me your song, ye nightingales! oh! pour Unbounded beauty to the roving eye.
The mazy-running soul of melody Here their delicious task the fervent bees,
Into my varied verse! while I deduce, In swarming millions, tend: around, athwart, From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube,
Unknown to fame, the passion of the groves. Suck its pure essence, its ethereal sonl;
When first the soul of love is sent abroad, And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare Warm through the vital air, and on the heart The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin, And yellow load them with the lascious spoil. In gallant thought to plume the painted wing;
At length the finish'd garden to the view And try again the long-forgotten strain, Its vistas opens, and its alleys green.
At first faint-warbled. But no sooner grows Snatch'd through the verdant maze, the hurried eye The soft infusion prevalent and wide, Distracted wanders; now the bowery walk
Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows Of covert close, where scare a speck of day In music unconfin'd. Up-springs the lark, Falls on the lengthen'd gloom, protracted sweeps: Shrill-voic'd, and loud, the messenger of morn ; Now meets the bendirg sky; the river now
Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings Dimpled along, the breezy ruffled lake,
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts
Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads
Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush
Of notes; when listening Philomela deigns And polyanthus of unnumber'd dyes;
To let them joy, end purposes, in thought The yellow wall-power, stain'd with iron-brown; Elate, to make ber night excel their day. And lavish stock that scents tlie garden round: The black-bird whistles from the thorny brake; From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,
The mellow bulbnch answers from the grove : Anemonies ; auriculas, enrich'd
Nor are the lingets, o'er the powering furze With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves ; Pour'd out profusely, silent. Join'd to these And full ranuncalas of glowing red.
Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix Her idle freaks ; from family diffus'd
Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw, To family, as fies the father dust,
And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone,
Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind
Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates
The cunning, conscious, half-arerted glance With hues on hues expression cannot paint, Of their regardless charmer. Should she seem The breath of Nature and her endless bloom. Softening the least approvance to bestow, Hail, source of Being ! Universal soul
Their colours burnish, and, by-hope inspir'd, Of Heaven and Earth! essential Presence, hail ! They brisk advance; then, on a sudden struck, To thee I bend the knee; to thee my thoughts, Retire disorder'd ; then again approach ; Continual climb; who, with a master-hand, In fond rotation spread the spotted wing, Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd. And shiver every feather with desire. VOL XII.
Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods The heath-hen flutters, pious frand! ta lead
Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage Indulg'd in vain. Some to the holly-hedge From liberty contin'd, and boundless air. Nestling repair, and to the thicket some; Dull are the pretty slaves, their plumage dull, Some to the rude protection of the thorn
Ragged, and all its brightening lustre lost; Commit their feeble offspring : the cleft tree Nor is that sprightly wildness iu their notes, Offers its kind concealment to a few,
Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech. Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. O then, ye friends of love and love-taught song, Others apart far in the grassy dale,
Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear; Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. If on your bosom innocence can win, But most in woodland solitudes delight,
Music engage, or piety persuade, In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks,
But let not chief the nightingale lament Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,
Her ruiu'd care, too delicately fram'd Whose murmurs soothe them all the live-long To brook the harsh confinement of the cage. day,
Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, When by kind duty fixid. Among the roots Th' astonish'd mother finds a vacant nest, Of hazel, pendent o'er the plaintive stream, By the hard band of unrelenting clowns They frame the first foundation of their domes; Robb’d, to the ground the vain provision falls; Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,
Her pinions ruftle, and low dropping, scarce And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade; But restless hurry through the busy air,
Where, all abandon'd to despair, she sings Beat by unnuinber'd wings. The suallow sweeps Her sorrows through the night ; and, on the The slimy pool, to build his hanging house
bough, Intent. And often, from the careless back Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall Of herds and flocks a thousand tugging bills Takes up again her lainentable strain Pluck hair and wool ; and oft, when unobserv’d, Of winding woe; till, wide around, the woods Steal from the barn a straw: till soft and warm, Sigh to ber song, and with her wail resound. Clean, and complete, their habitation grows. But now the feather'd youth their former bounds, As thus the patient dam assiduous sits,
Ardent, disdain ; and, weighing oft their wings, Not to be tempted from her tender task,
Demand the free possession of the sky : Or by sharp hunger, or by sinooth delight, This one glad office more, and then dissolres Though the whole loosen'd Spring around her blows, Parental love at once, now needless grown. Her sympathizing lover takes his stand
Unlavish'd Wisdom never works in vain. High on th' opponent bank, and ceaseless sings 'Tis on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild, The tedious time away ; or else supplies
When nought but balm is breathing through the Her place a moment, while she sudden flits
woods, To pick the scanty meal. Th’appointed time With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes With pious toil fulfill’d, the callow young, Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad Warm'd and expanded into perfect life,
On Nature's common far as they can see, Their brittle bondage break, and come to light, Or wing, their range and pasture. O'er the boughs A helpless family, demanding food
Dancing about, still at the giddy verge With constant clamour: O what passions then, Their resolution fails ; their pinions still, What melting sentiments of kindly care,
In loose libration stretch'd, to trust the void On the new parents seize! Away they fly
Trembling refuse: till down before them fly Affectionate, and undesiring bear
The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command, The most delicious morsel to their young ;
Or push them vtl. The surging air receives Which equally distributed, again
Its plumy burden; and their self-taught wings The search begins. Ev'n so a gentle pair, W innow the waving element. On ground By fortune sunk, but form’d of generous mould, Alighted, bolder op again they lead, And charm'd with cares beyond the vulgar breast, Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight; In some lone cot amid the distant woods,
Till, vanish'd every fear, and every power Sustain'd alone by providential Heaven,
Rous'd into life and action, light in air Oft as they weeping eye their infant train,
Th'acquitted parents see their soaring race, Check their own appetites, and give them all. And once rejoicing never know them more. Nor toil alone they scorn : exalting love,
High from the sumınit of a craggy chiff, By the great Father of the Spring inspir'd, Hung o'er the deep, snch as amazing frowns Gives instant courage to the fearful race,
On utmost Kilda's? shore, whose lonely raco And to the simple, art. With stealthy wing, Resign the setting Sun to Indian worlds, Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest, The royal eagle draws his vigorous young, Amid a neighbouring bush they silent drop, Streng.pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire And whirring thence, as if alarm'd, deceive Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, Th’unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head He drives them from his fort, the towering seat, Of wandering swain, the white-wing'd plover wheels For ages of his empire ; which, in peace, Her sounding flight, and then directly on
Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to sea In long excursion skims the level lawn,
He wings his course, and preys in distant isles. To tempt him from her nest. The wild-duck, hence, O'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless waste 'The farthest of the western islands of Scotland.
Should I my steps turn to the rural seat, Of various cadence; and his sportive lambs, Whose lofty elms, and venerable oaks,
This way and that convolv'd, in friskful glee, Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs, Their frolics play. And now the sprightly race In early Spring, his airy city builds,
Invites them forth; when swift, the signal given, And ceaseless caws amusive; there, well pleas'd, They start away, and sweep the massy mound I might the various polity survey
That runs around the hill; the rampart once Of the mixt houshold kind. The careful hen Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times, Calls all her chirping family around,
When disunited Britain ever bled, Fed and defended by the fearless cock;
Lost in eternal broil: ere yet she grew Whose breast with ardour flames, as on he walks, To this deep-laid indissoluble state, [heads; Graceful and crows defiance. In the pond,
Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden The finely-checker'd duck, before her train, And o'er our labours, Liberty and Law, Rows garrulous. The stately sailing swan Impartial, watch; the wonder of a world! Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale ;
What is this mighty Breath, ye sages, say And, arcbing proud his neck, with oary feet That, in a powerful language, felt, not heard, Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier-isle, Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through their Protective of his young. The turkey nigh,
breast Loud threatening reddens; while the peacock These arts of love diffuses? What, but God? His every-colour'd glory to the Sun, [spreads Inspiring God! who, boundless Spirit all, And swims in radiant majesty along.
And unremitting Energy, pervades, O'er the whole homely scene, the cooing dore Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. Flies thick in amorous chace, and wanton rolls He ceaseless works alone; and yet alone The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. Seems not to work: with such perfection fram'd
While thus the gentle tenants of the shade Is this complex stupendous scheme of things. Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world But, though conceal’d, to every purer eye Of brutes, below, rush furious into fame,
Th’informing Author in his works appears: And fierce desire. Through all his lusty veins Chief, lovely Spring, in thee, and thy soft scenes, The bull, deep-scorch'd, the raging passion feels. The smiling God is seen; wbile water, earth, Of pasture sick, aud negligent of food,
And air, attest his bounty ; which exalts Scarce seen, he wades among the yellow broom, The brute creation to this finer thought, While o'er his ample side the rambling sprays
And annual melts their undesigning hearts Luxuriant shoot; or through the mazy wood Profusely thus in tenderness and joy. Dejected wanders, nor th' inticing bud
Still let my song a nobler note assume, Crops, though it presses on his careless sense. And sing th' infusive force of Spring on man; And oft, in jealous maddening fancy wrapt,
When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie He seeks the fight; and, idly butting, feigns To raise his being, and serene his soul. His rival gor'd in every knotty trunk.
Can he forbear to join the general smile Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins: Of Nature? Can fierce passions vex his breast, Their eyes flash fury; to the hollow'd earth, While every gale is peace, and every grove Whence the sand fies, they mutter bloody deeds, Is melody ? Mence! from the bounteous walks And, groaning deep, th' impetuous battle mix: Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of Earth, While the fair heifer, balmy breathing, near, Hard, and unfoeling of another's woe! Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed, or only lavish to yourselves; away! With this hot impulse seiz'd in every nerve, But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide Nor heeds the rein, nor hears the sounding thong; thought, Blows are not felt; but, tossing high his head, Of all his works, creative Bounty burns And by the well-known joy to distant plains With warmest beam; and on your open front Attracted strong, all wild he bursts away; And liberal eye, sits, from his dark retreat O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains fies: Inviting modest Want. Nor, till invok'd And, neighing, on th' aërial summit takes Can restless goodness wait: your active search Th' exciting gale; then, steep-descending, cleaves Leaves no cold wintery corner unexplord ; The headlong torrents foaming down the hills, Like silent-working Heaven, surprizing oft Ev'n where the madness of the straiten'd stream The lonely heart with unexpected good. Turns in black eddies round; such is the force For you the roving spirit of the wind With which bis frantic heart and sinews swell. Blows Spring abroad; for you the teeming clouds
Nor undelighted by the boundless Spring Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world; Are the broad monsters of the foaming deep: And the Sun sheds his kindest rays for you, From the deep ooze and gelid cavern rous'd,
Ye flower of human race! In these green days, They founce and tumble in unwieldly joy. Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head: Dire were the strain, and dissonant, to sing Life flows afresh; and young-ey'd Health exalts The cruel raptures of the savage kind :
The whole creation round. Contentment walks How by this flame their native wrath sublim'd, The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss They roam, amid the fury of their heart,
Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands,
To purchase. Pure serenity apace
By swift degrees the love of Nature works,
We feel the present Deity, and taste