Th' impov'rish'd earth; an overbearing race, Oh, blest seclusion from a jarring world, Lost innocence, or cancel follies past; A faithful barrier, not o'erleap'd with ease When fierce temptation, seconded within Perhaps may crown us; but to fly is safe. What could I wish that I possess not here? זי Health, leisure, means t' improve it, friendship, peace, No loose or wanton, though a wand'ring, muse, And constant occupation without care. Thus blest, I draw a picture of that bliss; Hopeless, indeed, that dissipated minds, Created fair so much in vain for them, Should seek the guiltless joys that I describe, That, self-condemn'd, they must neglect the prize, Acknowledg'd, others may admire it too. I therefore recommend, though at the risk Of popular disgust, yet boldly still, The cause of piety and sacred truth, And virtue, and those scenes which God ordain'd Should best secure them and promote them most; Scenes that I love, and with regret perceive Forsaken, or through folly not enjoy'd. Not as the prince in Shushan, when he call'd, To grace the full pavilion. His design Was but to boast his own peculiar good, My charmer is not mine alone; my sweets, Nature, enchanting Nature, in whose form That errs not, and find raptures still renew'd, Strange that so fair a creature should yet want Admirers, and be destin'd to divide With meaner objects ev'n the few she finds! Stripp'd of her ornaments, her leaves and flow'rs, She loses all her influence. Cities then Attract us, and neglected Nature pines, Abandon'd, as unworthy of our love. But are not wholesome airs, though unperfum'd By roses; and clear suns, though scarcely felt; And groves, if unharmonious, yet secure From clamour, and whose very silence charms; To be preferr❜d to smoke, to the eclipse That Metropolitan volcanos make, Whose Stygian throats breathe darkness all day long; 1 A And to the stir of commerce, driving slow, Who had surviv'd the father, serv'd the son. Now the legitimate and rightful lord Is but a transient guest, newly arriv'd, Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price The country starves, and they that feed th' o'ercharg'd And surfeited lewd town with her fair dues, Is fed with many a victim. Lo, he comes! |