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Who, with bareheaded and obsequious bows
Begs a warm office, doom'd to a cold jan
And groat per diem, if his patron frown,
The levee swarms, as if in golden pomp
Were character'd on ev'ry statesman's door,
"Batter'd and bankrupt fortunes mended here.
These are the charms that sully and eclipse
The charms of nature. 'Tis the cruel gripe,
That lean, hard-handed Poverty inflicts,
The hope of better things, the chance to win.
The wish to shine, the thirst to be amus'd,
That at the sound of Winter's hoary wing
Unpeople all our countries of such herds
Of flutt'ring, loit'ring, cringing, begging, loose.
And wanton vagrants, as make London, vast
And boundless as it is, a crowded coop.

O thou resort and mart of all the earth,
Checker'd with all complexions of mankind,
And spotted with all crimes; in whom I see
Much that I love, and more that I admire,
And all that I abhor; thou freckled fair,
That pleasest and yet shockest me! 'I can laugh,
And I can weep, can hope and can despond
Feel wrath and pity, when I think on thee!
Ten righteous would have sav'd a city once,
And thou hast many righteous.-Well for thee-
That salt preserves thee; more corrupted else,
And therefore more obnoxious, at this hour,
Than Sodom in her day had pow'r to be,

For whom God heard his Abr' ham plead in vain

THE TASK.

BOOK IV.

THE WINTER EVENING.

ARGUMENT OF THE FOURTH BOOK.

The post comes in-The newspaper is read-The World contemplated at a distance-Address to Winter-The rural amusements of a winter evening compared with the fashionable ones-Address to evening-A brown study-Fall of snow in the evening-The wagoner-A poor family piece-The rural thief-Public housesThe multitude of them censured-The farmer's daughter: what she was,-what she is-The simplicity of country manners almost lost-Causes of the changeDesertion of the country by the rich-Neglect of the magistrates-The militia principally in fault-The new recruit and his transformation-Reflection on the bodies corporate-The love of rural objects natural to all, and never to be totally extinguished.

HARK! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge
That with its wearisome but needful length
Bestrides the wintry flood; in which the moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,
He comes, the herald of a noisy world,
With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen

locks,

News from all nations lumb'ring at his back.
True to his charge, the close pack'd load behind
Yet careless what he brings, his one concern
Is to conduct it to the destin'd inn;

And having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on.
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch.
Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some;
To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy.
Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks,
Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet.
With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheek
Fast as the periods from his fluent quill,
Or charg'd with am'rous sighs of absent sw ains,
Or nymphs responsive, equally affect
His horse and him, unconscious of them all.
But O, th' important budget! usher'd in
With such heart-shaking music, who can say
What are its tidings? have our troops awak'o ?
Or do they still, as if with opium drugg'd,
Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave?
Is India free? and does she wear her plum'd
And jewel'd turban with a smile of peace,
Or do we grind her still? The grand debate,
The popular harangue, the tart reply,
The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit,
And the loud laugh-I long to know them all
I burn to set th' imprisoned wranglers free,
And give them voice and utt'rance once again.
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And, while the bubbling and loud-hissing un
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,

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