Spare the foft tribes, this barbarous art forbear;
If on your bofom innocence can win,
Mufic engage, or piety perfuade.
BUT let not chief the nightingale lament
Her ruin'd care, too delicately fram'd
To brook the harsh confinement of the cage.
Oft when, returning with her loaded bill,
Th' aftonifh'd mother finds a vacant neft,
By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns
Robb'd, to the ground the vain provision falls; 、
Her pinions ruffle, and low drooping scarce
Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade;
Where, all abandon'd to defpair, the fings
Her forrows thro' the night; and, on the bough,
Sole-fitting, ftill at every dying fall
Takes up again her lamentable strain
Of winding woe; till wide around the woods
Sigh to her fong, and with her wail refound.
BUT now the feather'd youth their former bounds, Ardent, difdain; and, weighing oft their wings, Demand the free poffeffion of the sky:
This one glad office more, and then diffolves
Parental love at once, now needless grown.
Unlavish Wisdom never works in vain.
'Tis on fome evening, funny, grateful, mild, When nought but balm is breathing thro' the woods,
With yellow luftre bright, that the new tribes
Vifit the spacious heavens, and look abroad
On Nature's common, far as they can fee,
Or wing, their range, and pafture. O'er the boughs
Dancing about, ftill at the giddy verge
Their refolution fails; their pinions still,
In loose libration Atretch'd, to truft the void
Trembling refufe: till down before them fly
The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command,
Or push them off. The furging air receives
The plumy burden; and their felf-taught wings
Winnow the waving element. On ground
Alighted, bolder up again they lead,
Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight;
Till vanish'd every fear, and every power
Rouz'd into life and action, light in air
Th' acquitted parents fee their foaring race,
And once rejoicing never know them more.
HIGH from the fummit of a craggy cliff,
Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns
On utmost * Kilda's fhore, whofe lonely race
Refign the fetting fun to Indian worlds,
The royal eagle draws his vigorous young,
Strong-pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire.
Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own,
He drives them from his fort, the towering feat,
*The fartheft of the western islands of Scotland,
For ages, of his empire; which, in peace,
Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to fea
He wings his courfe, and preys in diftant ifles.
SHOULD I my steps turn to the rural seat,
Whofe lofty elms, and venerable oaks,
Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs,
In early spring, his airy city builds,
And ceafelefs caws amufive; there, well-pleas'd,
I might the various polity furvey
Of the mixt houfhold-kind.
Calls all her chirping family around,
Fed and defended by the fearless cock;
Whose breast with ardour flames, as on he walks,
Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond,
The finely-checkered duck, before her train,
Rows garrulous. The stately-failing fwan
Gives out his fnowy plumage to the gale;
An arching proud his neck, with oary feet
Bears forward fierce, and guards his ofier-ifle,
Protective of his young. The turkey nigh,
Loud-threatning, reddens; while the peacock spreads
His every-colour'd glory to the fun,
And fwims in radiant majesty along.
O'er the whole homely fcene, the cooing dove
Flies thick in amorous chace, and wanton rolls
The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. 785
WHILE thus the gentle tenants of the fhade
Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world
Of brutes, below, rufh furious into flame,
And fierce defire. Thro' all his lufty veins
The bull, deep-fcorch'd, the raging paffion feels. 799
Of pafture fick, and negligent of food,
Scarce feen, he wades among the yellow broom,
While o'er his ample fides the rambling sprays
Luxuriant fhoot; or thro' the mazy wood
Dejected wanders, nor th' inticing bud
Crops, tho' it preffes on his carelefs fenfe.
And oft, in jealous madning fancy wrapt,
He feeks the fight; and, idly-butting, feigns
His rival gor'd in every knotty trunk.
Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins: 800
Their eyes flash fury; to the hollow'd earth,
Whence the fand flies, they mutter bloody deeds,
And groaning deep th' impetuous battle mix
While the fair heifer, balmy-breathing, near,
Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling fteed,.
With this hot impulse feiz'd in every nerve,
806
Nor hears the rein, nor heeds the founding thong;
Blows are not felt; but toffing high his head,
And by the well-known joy to distant plains
Attracted strong, all wild he bursts away;
O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies;,
And, neighing, on the aërial fummit takes
Th' exciting gale; then, fteep-defcending, cleaves
The headlong torrents foaming down the hills,
Even where the madnefs of the straiten'd stream 815
Turns in black eddies round: fuch is the force
With which his frantick heart and finews fwell.
NOR undelighted by the boundless Spring Are the broad monfters of the foaming deep: From the deep ooze and gelid cavern rous'd, They flounce and tumble in unwieldy joy. Dire were the ftrain, and diffonant, to fing The cruel raptures of the savage kind:
How by this flame their native wrath fublim'd,
They roam, amid the fury of their heart,
The far-refounding wafte in fiercer bands,
And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme
I fing, enraptur'd, to the BRITISH FAIR,
Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow,
Where fits the fhepherd on the grassy turf,
Inhaling, healthful, the descending fun.
Around him feeds his many-bleating flock,
Of various cadence; and his sportive lambs,
This way and that convolv'd, in friskful glee,
Their frolicks play. And now the sprightly race 835
Invites them forth; when fwift, the fignal given,
They start away, and fweep the massy mound
That runs around the hill; the rampart once
Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times,
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