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That rip'ning nature rolls; as in the stream
I's crumbling banks; but what the vital force
Of plattic fluids hourly batters down,
That very force thofe plaftic particles
Rebuild; fa mutable the state of man.
For this the watchful appetite was giv'n,
Daily with freth materials to repair
This unavoidable expence of life,
This neceffary waste of flesh and blood,
Hence the concoctive pow'rs, with various art,
Subdue the cruder aliments to chyle;
The chyle to blood; the foamy purple tide
To liquors, which through finer arteries
To dif'rent parts their winding courfe purfue;
To try new changes, and new forms put on,
Or for the public, or fome private ufe.

Nothing to foreign but th'athletic hind
Can labour into blood. The hungry meal
Alone he fears, or alunents too thin;
By vi'lent pow'rs too eafily fubdu'd,
Too foon expell'd. His daily labour thaws
To friendly chyle the most rebellious mafs
That falt can harden, or the fmoke of years;
Nor does his gorge the rancid bacon rue,
Nor that which Ceftria fends, tenaceous pafte
Of folid milk. But ye of fofter clay,
Infirm and delicate; and ye who wafte
With pale and bloated floth the tedious day!
Avoid the ftubborn aliment, avoid
The full repaft; and let fagacious age
Grow wifer, leffon'd by the dropping teeth.
Half fubtiliz'd to chyle, the liquid food
Readieft obeys th'affimilating pow'rs;
And foon the tender vegetable mafs
Relents; and foon the young of thofe that tread
The ftedfaft earth, or cleave the green abyfs,
Or pathlefs fky. And if the Steer muft fall,
In youth and fanguine vigour let him die;
Nor ftay till rigid age or heavy ails
Abfolve him ill-requited from the yoke.
Some with high forage and luxuriant cafe
Indulge the vet'ran ox; but wifer thou,
From the bald mountain or the barren downs
Expect the flocks by frugal nature fed ;
A race of purer blood, with exercife

Refin'd, and fcanty fare: For, old or young,
The ftall'd are never healthy, nor the cramm'd.
Not all the culinary arts can tame

To wholefome food th'abominable growth
Of rest and gluttony; the prudent tafte
Rejects like bane fuch loathfome lucioufnefs.
The languid ftomach curfes ev'n the pure
Delicious fat, and all the race of oil:
For more the oily aliments relax
Its feeble tone; and with the cager lymph
(Fond to incorporate with all it meets)
Covly they mix, and fhun with flipp'ry wiles
The woo'd embrace. Th'irrefoluble oil,
So gentle late and blandithing, in floods
Of rancid bile o'erflows: What tumults hence,
What horrors rife, were naufeous to relate.
Chufe leaner viands, ye whofe jovial make
Too faft the gummy nutriment imbibes:.
Chufe fober meals; and roufe to active life
Your cumbrous clay; nor on th'enfeebling down,

Irrefolute, protract the morning hours.
But let the man whofe bones are thinly clad,
With cheerful cafe and fucculent repaft
Improve his flender habit. Each extreme
From the bleft mean of fanity departs.

I could relate what table this demands
Or that complexion; what the various pow'rs
Of various foods: But fifty years would roll,
And fifty more, before the tale were done.
Befides, there often lurks fome nameless, strange,
Peculiar thing; nor on the skin difplay'd,
Felt in the pulfe, nor in the habit feen,
Which finds a poifon in the food that moft
The temp'rature affects. There are, whofe
Impetuous rages thro' the turgid veins, [blood
Who better bear the fiery fruits of Ind
Than the moist Melon, or pale Cucumber.
Of chilly nature others fly the board
Supply'd with flaughter; and the vernal pow'rs
For cooler, kinder, fuftenance implore.
Some ev'n the gen'rous nutriment dereft
Which, in the thell, the fleeping embryo rears:
Some, more unhappy ftill, repent the gifts
Of Pales; soft, delicious, and benign;
The baliny quinteffence of ev'ry flow'r,
And ev'ry grateful herb that decks the spring;
The foft'ring dew of tender fprouting life;
The best reflection of declining age;
The kind restorative of thofe who lie
Half-dead and panting, from the doubtful strife
Of nature ftruggling in the grafp of death,
Try all the bounties of this fertile globe,
There is not fuch a falutary food
As fuits with ev'ry ftomach. But (except,
Amid the mingled mafs of fifh and fowl,
And boil'd and bak'd, you hefitate by which
You funk opprefs'd, or whether not by all)
Taught by experience, foon you may difcern
What pleafes, what offends. Avoid the cates
That lull the ficken'd appetite too long;
Or heave with fev'rifh flufhings all the face,
Burn in the palms, and parch the rough'ning

tongue;

Or much diminish'd or too much increase
Th'expence which nature's wife ceconomy,
Without or wafte or avarice, maintains ;
Such cates abjur'd, let prowling hunger loofe,
And bid the curious palate roam at will;
They fearce can err amid the various ftores
That burft the teeming entrails of the world.

Led by fagacious tafte, the ruthlefs king
Of beafts on blood and flaughter only lives;
The tyger, form'd alike to cruel meals,
Would at the manger ftarve: Of milder feeds
The gen'rous horfe to herbage and to grain
Confines his wifh; tho' fabling Greece refound
The Thracian fteeds with human carnage wild.
Prompted by inftin&t's never-crring pow'r,
Each creature knows its proper aliment;
But man, th'inhabitant of ev'ry clime,
With all the commoners of nature feeds,
Directed, bounded, by this pow'r within,
Their cravings are well aim'd: Voluptuous Man
Is by fuperior faculties milled:
Mifled from pleasure ev'n in quest of joy.

Sated

Sated with nature's boons, what thousands feck, | From the crude ore can fpin the ductile gold?
With dishes tortur'd from their native taste,
And mad variety, to spurn beyond
Its wifer will the jaded appetite!

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Is this for pleafure Learn a jufter taste;
And know, that temp'rance is true luxury.
Or is it pride? Pursue fome nobler aim :
Difmifs your parafites, who praife for hire,
And earn the fair cfteem of honeft men, [yours,
Whofe praife is fame. Form'd of fuch clay as
The fick, the famifh'd, fhiver at your gates.
Ev'n modeft want may blefs your hand unfeen,
Tho' hufh'd in patient wretchedness at home.
Is there no virgin grac'd with ev'ry charm
But that which binds the mercenary vow?
No youth of genius, whofe neglected bloom,
Unfofter'd, fickens in the barren fhade ?
No worthy man, by fortune's random blows,
Or by a heart too gen'rous and humane,
Conftrain'd to leave his happy natal feat,
And figh for wants more bitter than his own?
There are, while human miferies abound,
A thoufand ways to wafte fuperfluous wealth,
Without one fool or flatt'rer at your board,
Without one hour of fick nefs or difguft.

But other ills th'ambiguous feaft purfue,
Befides provoking the lafcivious tafte.
Such various foods, tho' harmlefs each alone,
Each other violate; and oft we fee

What ftrife is brew'd, and what pernicious bane,
From combinations of innoxious things.
Th'unbounded tafte I mean not to confine
To hermit's diet, needlefsly fevere.
But would you long the fweets of health enjoy,
Or husband pleafure; at one impious meal
Exhauft not half the bounties of the year,
Of ev'ry realm. It matters not meanwhile
How much to-morrow differ from to-day;
So far indulge: 'tis fit, befides, that man,
To change obnoxious, be to change inur'd.
But stay the curious appetite, and tafte
With caution, fruits you never try'd before.
For want of use the kindeft aliment
Sometimes offends; while cuftom tames the rage
Of poifon to mild amity with life.

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So Heav'n has form'd us to the gen❜ral tafte Of all its gifts; fo custom has improv'd This bent of nature; that few fimple foods, Of all that earth, or air, or ocean yield, But by excefs offend. Beyond the fenfe Of light refection, at the genial board, Indulge not often; nor protract the feaft To dull fatiety, till foft and flow A drowfy death creeps on, th'expanfive foul Opprefs'd, and fmother'd the celestial fire. The ftomach, urg'd beyond its active tone, Hardly to nutrimental chyle fubdues The fofteft food; unfinish'd and deprav'd, The chyle in all its future wand'rings, owns Its turbid fountain; not by purer fireams So to be clear'd, but foulnefs will remain. To fparkling wine what ferment can exalt Th'unripen'd grape! Or what mechanic skill

Grofs riot treasures up a wealthy fund
Of plagues: but more immedicable ills
Attend the lean extreme. For phyfic knows
How to disburden the too tumid veins,
Ev'n how to ripen the half-labour'd blood :
But to unlock the elemental tubes,
Collaps'd and shrunk with long inanity,
And with balfamic nutriment repair
The dry'd and worn-out habit, were to hid
Old age grow green, and wear a fecond fpring;
Or the tall afh, long ravifh'd from the foil,
Thro' wither'd veins imbibe the vernal dew.
When hunger calls, obey; nor often wait
Till hunger fharpen to corrofive pain :
For the keen appetite will feaft beyond
What nature well can bear; and one extreme
Ne'er, without danger, meets its own reverse.
Too greedily tl'exhaufted veins abforb
The recent chyle, and load enfeebled pow'rs
Oft to th'extinction of the vital flame.
To the pale cities, by the firm-fet fege
And famine humbled, may this verte be borne ;
And hear, ye hardieft fons that Albion breeds!
Long tofs'd and famish'd on the wint'ry main;
The war fhook off, or hofpitable shore [joy:
Attain'd, with temp'rance bear the fhock of
Nor crown with feftive rites th'aufpicious day :
Such feaft might prove more fatal than the waves,
Than war or famine. While the vital fire
Burns feebly, heap not the green fuel on;
But prudently foment the wand'ring fpark
With what the fooncft feels its kindred touch:
Be frugal ev'n of that: a little give
At firft; that kindled, add a little more;
Till, by delib'rate nourishing, the flame
Reviv'd, with all its wonted vigour glows.

But tho' the two (the full and the jejune)
Extremes have each their vice, it much avails
Ever with gentle tide to ebb and flow
From this to that: So nature learns to bear
Whatever chance or headlong appetite
May bring. Befides, a meagre day fubdues
The cruder clods by floth or luxury
Collected, and unloads the wheels of life.
Sometimes a coy averfion to the feaft
Comes on, while yet no blacker omen lowrs;
Then is a time to fhun the tempting board,
Were it your natal or your nuptial day.

Perhaps a faft fo feafonably ftarves

The latent feeds of woe, which rooted once
Might coft you labour. But the day return'd
Of feftal luxury, the wife indulge
Moft in the tender vegetable breed:
Then chiefly when the fummer beams inflame
The brazen heav'ns, or angry Sirius fheds
A fev'rish taint thro' the still gulph of air,
The moist cool viands then, and flowing cup
From the fresh dairy-virgin's lib'ral hand,
Will fave your head from harm, tho' round the
world

The dreaded Cautos rolls his wafteful fires.
Pale humid Winter loves the gen'rous board,

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The meal more copious, and a warmer fare,
And longs with old wood and old wine to cheer
His quaking heart. The feafons which divide
Th'empires of heat and cold; by neither claim'd,
Influenc'd by both; a middle regimen
Impofc. Thro' autumn's languishing domain
Defcending, nature by degrees invites
To glowing luxury. But from the depth
Of winter, when th'invigorating year
Emerges; when Favonius, fluth'd with love,
Toyful and young, in ev'ry breeze defcends
More warm and wanton on his kindling bride;
Then, thepherds, then begin to fpare your flocks,
And learn, with wife humanity, to check
The luft of blood. Now pregnant earth commits
A various offspring to th'indulgent sky:
Now bounteous nature feeds with lavifh hand
The prone creation; yields what once fuffic'd
Their dainty fov'reign, when the world was
young;

Ere yet the barb'rous thirst of blood had feiz'd
The human breaft. Each rolling month matures
The food that fuits it moft; fo does each clime.
Far in the horrid realms of Winter, where
Th'eftablifh'd ocean heaps a monstrous wafte
Of shining rocks and mountains to the pole,
There lives a hardy race, whofe plaineft wants
Relentless earth, their cruel ftep-mother,
Regards not. On the wafte of iron fields,
Untam'd, intractable, no harvests wave:
Pomona hates them, and the clownish god
Who tends the garden. In this frozen world
Such cooling gifts were vain: a fitter meal
Is earn'd with eafe; for here the fruitful fpawn
Of Ocean fwarms, and heaps their genial board
With gen'rous fare and luxury profufe.
Thefe are their bread, the only bread they know;
Thefe, and their willing flave, the deer, that crops
The fhrubby herbage on the meagre hills.
Girt by the burning Zone, not thus the South
Her fwarthy fons in either Ind maintains :
Or thirty Libya, from whofe fervid loins
The lion burfts, and ev'ry fiend that roams
Th'affrighted wilderness. The mountain herd,
Aduft and dry, no fweet repast affords :
Nor does the tepid main fuch kinds produce,
So perfect, fo delicious, as the fhoals
Of icy Zembla. Rafhly where the blood [tain
Brews fev'rith frays; where fcarce the tubes fuf-
Its tumid fervour and tempetuous course,
Kind Nature tempts not to fuch gifts as thefe,
But here in livid ripenefs melts the grape :
Here, finish'd by invigorating funs,
Thro' the green fhade the golden orange glows:
Spontaneous here the turgid melon yields
A gen'rous pulp; the cocoa fwells on high
With milky riches; and in horrid mail
The crifp Ananas wraps its poignant sweets.
Earth's vaunted progeny: In ruder air
Too coy to hourish, ev'n too proud to live;
Or hardly rais'd by artificial fire

To vapid life. Here, with a mother's smile,
Glad Amalthea pours a copious horn:

Here buxom Ceres reigns: Th'autumnal fea

In boundless billows fluctuates o'er their plains.
What fuits the climate beft, what fuits the men,
Nature profutes most, and moft the taste
Demands. The fountain, edg'd with racy wine
Or acid fruit, bedews their thirfty fouls.
The breeze eternal, breathing round their limbs,
Supports in elfe intolerable air,

While the cool palm, the plantain, and the grove
That waves on gloomy Lebanon, affuage
The torrid hell that beams upon their heads.

Now come, ye Naiads, to the fountains lead;
Now let me wander thro' your gelid reign.
I burn to view th'enthufiaftic wilds
By mortal elfe untrod. I hear the din
Of waters thund'ring o'er the ruin'd cliffs.
With holy rev'rence I approach the rocks [fong.
Whence glide the ftreams renown'd in ancient
Here from the defart, down the rumbling steep,
Firft fprings the Nile; here bursts the founding Po
In angry waves; Euphrates hence devolves
A mighty flood to water half the caft;
And there, in Gothic folitude reclin'd,
The cheerlefs Tanais pours his hoary urn.
What folemn twilight! What ftupendous fhades
Enwrap thefe infant floods! Thro' ev'ry nerve
A facred horror thrills, a pleafing fear
Glides o'er my frame. The forest deepens round;
And, more gigantic ftill, th'impending trees
Stretch their extravagant arms athwart the gloom.
Are thefe the confines of fome fairy world?
A land of Genii? Say, beyond thefe wilds
What unknown nations! if indeed beyond
Aught habitable lies. And whither leads,
To what ftrange regions, or of blifs or pain,
That fubterraneous way? Propitious maids,
Conduct me, while with fearful steps I tread
This trembling ground. The task remains to fing
Your gifts (fo Peon, fo the pow'rs of health
Command) to praise your crystal clement:
The chief ingredient in Heav'n's various works;
Whofe flexile genius fparkles in the gem,
Grows firm in oak, and fugitive in wine;
The vehicle, the fource, of nutriment
And life to all that vegetate or live.

.

O comfortable streams! With eager lips And trembling hand the languid thirfty quaff New life in you; fresh vigour fills their veins. No warmer cups the rural ages knew ; None warmer fought the fires of human kind. Happy in temp'rate peace! Their equal days Felt not th'alternate fits of fev'rish mirth And fick dejection. Still ferene and pleas'd, They knew no pains but what the tender foul With pleafure yields to, and would ne'er forget. Blefs'd with divine immunity from ails, Long centuries they liv'd; their only fate Was ripe old age, and rather fleep than death. Oh! could thofe worthies from the world of gods Return to vifit their degen'rate fons,

How would they scorn the joys of modern time, With all our art and toil improv'd to pain! Too happy they! But wealth brought luxury, And luxury on floth begot difeafe. [difdain Learn temp'rance, friends; and hear without

The

The Choice of water. Thus the * Coan fage
Opin'd, and thus the learn'd of ev'ry school.
What least of foreign principles partakes
Is beft: The lighteft hen what bears the touch
Of fire the least, and foonest mounts in air;
The moft infipid; the most void of smell.
Such the rude mountain from his horrid fides
Pours down; fuch waters in the fandy vale
For ever boil, alike of winter frosts
And fummer's heat fecure. The cryftal stream,
Through rocks refounding, or for many a mile
O'er the chaf'd pebbles hurl'd, yields wholefome,
[thaws,
And mellow draughts; except when winter
And half the mountains melt into the tide.
Tho' thirst were ne'er fo refolute, avoid
The fordid lake, and all fuch drowsy floods
As fill from Lethe Belgia's flow canals
(With reft corrupt, with vegetation green;
Squalid with generation, and the birth
Of little monsters !) till the pow'r of fire
Has from profane embraces difengag'd
The violated lymph. The virgin stream
In boiling, waftes its finer foul in air.

pure,

Nothing like fimple element dilutes The food, or gives the chyle fo foon to flow. But where the ftomach indolently given, Toys with its duty, animate with wine Th'infipid stream: Tho' golden Ceres yields A more voluptuous, a more fprightly draught; Perhaps more active. Wine unmix'd, and all The gluey floods that from the vex'd abyfs Of fermentation fpring; with spirit fraught, And furious with intoxicating fire; Retard concoction, and preferve unthaw'd Th'embody'd mass. You fee what countlets

years,

Embalm'd in fiery quinteffences of wine,
The puny wonders of the reptile world,,
The tender rudiments of life, the flim
Unravellings of minute anatomy,
Maintain their texture, and unchang'd remain.
We curfe not wine: the vile excefs we blame;
More fruitful than the accumulated board,
Of pain and mis'ry. For the fubtle draught
Fafter and furer fwells the vital tide;
And with more active poifon, than the floods
Of groffer crudity convey, pervades
The far remote meanders of our frame.
Ah! fly deceiver! Branded o'er and o'er,
Yet ftill believ'd! Exulting o'er the wreck
Of fober vows -But the Parnaffian Maids
+ Another time, perhaps, shall fing the joys,
The fatal charms, the many woes of wine;
Perhaps its various tribes and various powers.

*Of Hippocrates.

+ See Book iv.

Meantime, I would not always dread the

bowl,

Nor ev'ry trefpafs_fhun. The fev'rifh ftrife,
Rous'd by the rare debauch, fubdues, expels
The loit'ring crudities that burthen life;
And, like a torrent full and rapid, clears
Th'obftructed tubes. Besides, this restless world
Is full of chances, which by habit's pow'r,
To learn to bear is cafier than to fhun.
Ah! when ambition, meagre love of gold,
Or facred country calls, with mellowing wine
To moisten well the thirsty fuffrages,
Say how, unfeafon'd to the midnight frays
Of Comus and his rout, wilt thou contend
With Centaurs long to hardy deeds, inúr'd?
Then learn to revel; but by flow degrees :
By flow degrees the lib'ral arts are won,
And Herculus grew strong.
But when you

fmooth

The brows of care, indulge your feftive vein
In cups by well inform'd experience found
The leaft your bane, and only with your friends.
There are fweet follies; frailties to be feen
By friends alone, and men of gen'rous minds.

Oh! feldom may the fated hours return
Of drinking deep! I would not daily taste,
Except when life declines, even fober cups.
Weak withering age no rigid law forbids,
With frugal nectar, finooth and flow, with balm
The fapless habit daily to bedew,
And give the hesitating wheels of life
Gliblier to play. But youth has better joys:
And is it wife when youth with pleasure flows,
To fquander the reliefs of age and pain?

What dext'rous thousands juft within the goal
Of wild debauch direct their nightly course !
Perhaps no fickly qualms bedim their days,
No morning admonitions fhock the head.
But ah! what woes remain! Life rolls apace,
And that incurable difeafe, old age,
In youthful bodies more feverely felt,
More fteinly active, shakes their blasted prime,
Except kind Nature, by fomne hafty blow,
Prevent the ling'ring fates. For know, whate'er
Beyond its natural fervour hurries on

The fanguine tide; whether the frequent bowl,
High feafon'd fare, or exercise to toil
Protracted, fpurs to its laft stage tir'd life,
And fows the temples with untimely fnow.
When life is new, the ductile fibres feel
The heart's increasing force; and, day by day,
The growth advances; till the larger tubes,
Acquiring (from their elemental veins,
Condens'd to folid chords) a firmer tone,
Sustain and just sustain, th’impetuous blood.

In the human body, as well as in thofe of other animals, the larger blood-veffels are compofed of fmaller ones; which, by the violent motion and preffure of the fluids in the large veffels, lofe their cavities by degrees, and degenerate into impervious chords or fibres. In proportion as thefe fmall veflels become folid, the larger muft of courfe grow lefs extenfible, more rigid, and make a ftronger refiftance to the action of the heart and force of the blood. From this gradual condenfation of the fmaller veffels, and confequent rigidity of the larger ones, the progrefs of the human body, from infancy to old age, is accounted for,

Here

Here ftops the growth. With overbearing pulfe
And preffure, ftill the great deftroy the fmall;
Still with the ruins of the fmall grow strong.
Life glows meantime amid the grinding force
Of vifcubus fluids and elaftic tubes;
Its various functions vig'roufly are ply'd
By ftrong machinery; and in folid health
The Man confirm'd long, triumphs o'er difeafe.
But the full occan ebbs: There is a point,
By nature fix'd, whence life muft downwards
For ftill the beating tide confolidates [tend;
The ftubborn veffels, more reluctant ftill
To the weak throbs of th'ill-fupported heart.
This languishing, thefe ftrength'ning by degrees
To hard unyielding unclaftic bone,

Thro' tedious channels the congealing flood
Crawls lazily, and hardly wanders on;
It loiters ftill: And now it ftirs no more.
This is the period few attain; the death
Of nature; thus (fo Heav'n ordain'd it) life
Deftroys itfelf; and could thefe laws have
chang'd,

Neftor might now the fates of Troy relate,
And Homer live immortal as his fong.

What does not fade? The tower that long had
ftood

The crush of thunder and the warring winds,
Shook by the flow but fure deftroyer Time,
Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er its bafe,
And flinty pyramids and walls of brass,
Defcend: the Babylonian fpires are funk;
Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down.
Time fhakes the ftable tyranny of thrones,
And tott'ring empires ruth by their own weight.
This huge rotundity we tread grows old;
And all thofe worlds that roll around the fun;
The fun himself shall die; and ancient Night
Again involve the defolate abyfs,

Till the great Father thro? the lifeless gloom
Extend his arin to light another world,
And bid new planets roll by other laws.
For thro' the regions of unbounded fpace,
Where unconfin'd Omnipotence has room,
Being in various fyftems, fluctuates ftiil
Between creation and abhorr'd decay:
It ever did, perhaps and ever will.
New worlds are ftill emerging from the deep;
The old defcending, in their turns to rife.

Not to debilitate with timorous rules
A hardy frame, nor needlessly to brave
Unglorious dangers, proud of mortal strength,
Is all the leffon that in wholefome years
Concerns the strong. His care were ill-beftow'd
Who would with, warm effeminacy nurfe
The thriving oak which on the mountain's brow
Bears all the blafts that fweep the wint'ry haven.
Behold the labourer of the glebe, who toils
In duft, in rain, in cold and fultry skies:
Save but the grain from mildews and the flood,
Nought anxious he what fickly ftars afcend.
He knows no laws by Efculapius given;
He studies none. Yet him nor midnight fogs
Infeft, nor thofe envenom'd shafts that fly
When rabid Sirius fires th'autumnal noon.
His habit pure with plain and temperate meals,
Robuft with labour, and by custom steel'd
To ev'ry cafualty of varied life;
Serene he bars the peevish Eastern blast,
And uninfected breathes the mortal South.

Such the reward of rude and fober life;
Of labour fuch. By health the peafant's toil
Is well repaid, if exercife were pain
Indeed, and temp'rance pain. By arts like thefe
Laconia nurs'd of old her hardy fons;
And Rome's unconquer'd legions urg'dtheir way,
Unhurt, thro' ev'ry toil, in ev'ry clime.

Toil, and be ftrong. By toil the flaccid nerves
Grow firm, and gain a more compacted tone;
The greener juices are by toil fubdu'd,
Mellow'd, and fubtiliz'd; the vapid old
Expell'd, and all the rancour of the blood.
Come, my companions, ye who feel the charms
Of nature and the year; come, let us stray
Where chance and fancy leads our roving walk:
Come, while the foft voluptuous breezes fan
The fleecy heav'ns, enwrap the limbs with balm,
And thed a charming languor o'er, the foul.
Nor when bright Winter fows with prickly froft
The vigorous ether, in unmanly warnth
Indulge at home; nor even when Eurus' blafts
This way and that convolve the lab'ring woods.
My lib'ral walks, fave when the fkics in rain
Or fogs relent, no season should confine
Or to the cloifter'd gallery or arcade.

Go, climb the mountain: from th'ethereal fource
Imbibe the recent gale. The cheerful morn
Beams o'er the hills; go, mount th'exulting fteed.
Already, fee, the deep-mouth'd beagles catch

$71. The Art of preferving Health. ARMSTRONG. The tainted mazes; and, on eager fport

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Intent, with emulous impatience try
Each doubtful trace. Or, if a nobler prey
Delight you more, go chace the defp'rate deer;
And thro' its deepest folitudes awake.
The vocal foreft with the jovial horn.

But if the breathlefs chace o'er hill and dale
Exceed your ftrength, a fport of lefs fatigue,
Not lefs delightful, the prolific ftream
Affords. The cryftal rivulet, that o'er
A ftony channel rolls its rapid maze,
Swarms with the filver fry.

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