And petrifies the heart. Nature disturb'd HENCE, in old dusky time, a deluge came: When the deep-cleft difparting orb, that arch'd 310 The central waters round, impetuous rufh'd, With univerfal burft, into the gulph, And o'er the high-pil'd hills of fractur'd earth Wide-dafh'd the waves, in undulation vaft; Till, from the center to the ftreaming clouds, A fhoreless ocean tumbled round the globe. 315 THE seasons fince have, with feverer fway, Opprefs'd a broken world: the Winter keen Shook forth his wafte of fnows; and Summer fhot His peftilential heats. Great Spring, before, Green'd all the year; and fruits and bloffoms blush'd, In social sweetness, on the self-fame bough. 320 Pure was the temperate air; an even calm But now, of turbid elements the sport, 330 And And dry to moist, with inward-eating change, AND yet the wholesome herb neglected dies; 335 340 And worse. The wolf, who from the nightly fold Nor lodges pity in their fhaggy breast. But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay, And taught alone to weep; while from her lap She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs, 345 350 Or beams that gave them birth: fhall he, fair form! Τα To merit death? you, who have given us milk 360 365 With all the pomp of harvest; shall he bleed, And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands Even of the clown he feeds; And that perhaps, Won by his labour? Thus the feeling heart 370 In this late age, adventurous, to have touch'd High HEAVEN forbids the bold presumptuous ftrain, That must not yet to pure perfection rife. 375 Now when the first foul torrent of the brooks, Swell'd with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away; 380 And, whitening, down their mofly-tinctur'd stream Defcends the billowy foam: now is the time, While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, To tempt the trout. The well diffembled fly, The rod fine-tapering with elaftic fpring, Snatch'd from the hoary fteed the floating line, 385 And And all thy flender watry stores prepare. 390 395 400 WHEN with his lively ray the potent fun Has pierc'd the ftreams, and rous'd the finny race, Then, ifiuing chearful, to thy fport repair; Chief fhould the western breezes curling play, And light o'er ether bear the fhadowy clouds. High to their fount, this day, amid the hills, And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks; The next, purfue their rocky-channel'd maze, Down to the river, in whofe ample wave Their little naiads love to sport at large. Juft in the dubious point, where with the pool Is mix'd the trembling ftream, or where it boils Around the ftone, or from the hollow'd bank Reverted plays in undulating flow, There throw, nice-judging, the delufive fly; And as you lead it round in artful curve, With eye attentive mark the springing game. Strait as above the furface of the flood They wanton rife, or urg'd by hunger leap, Then fix, with gentle twich, the barbed hook: 405 410 Some Some lightly toffing to the graffy bank, A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod, 415 The speckled infant throw. But should you lure 420 425 Long time he, following cautious, fcans the fly; 435 439 THUS |