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And sed on manna! And such thine, in whom And clamors of the field ?-Detested sport
Of harmless nature, dumb but yet endued
With eloquence, that agonies inspire, All flesh is grass, and all its glory fades
Of silent tears and heart-distending sighs ?
Vain tears, alas! and sighs that never find
Well—one at least is safe. One shelter'd hare And we that worship him ignoble graves.
Has never heard the sanguinary yell Nothing is proof against the gen'ral curse
Of cruel man, exulting in her woes. Of vanity, that seizes all below.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home ( The only amaranthine flow'r on Earth
Whom ten long years' experience of my care Is virtue; th' only lasting treasure, truth. }
Has made at last familiar; she has lost But what is truth? 'Twas Pilate's question put Much of her vigilant instinctive dread, To Truth itself, that deign'd him no reply.
Not needful here, beneath a roof like mine. And wherefore? will not God impart his light Yes thou may’st eat thy bread, and lick the band To them that ask it ?-Freely—'tis his joy, That feeds thee; thou may'st frolic on the floor His glory, and his nature to impart.
At ev'ning, and at night retire secure But to the proud, uncandid, insincere,
To thy straw couch, and slumber unalarmd ; Or negligent inquirer, not a spark.
For I have gain'd thy confidence, have pledg'd What's that, which brings contempt upon a book,
All that is human in me, to protect
If I survive thee, I will dig thy grave;
And, when I place thee in it, sighing say, The joy of many, and the dread of more ; I knew at least one hare that had a friend. His name a theme for praise and for reproach ?- How various his employments, whom the world That, while it gives us worth in God's account, Calls idle; and who justly in return Depreciates and undoes us in our own?
Esteems that busy world an idler too! What pearl is it, that rich men cannot buy, Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen, That learning is too proud to gather up;
Delightful industry enjoy'd at home, But which the poor, and the despis'd of all,
And Nature in her cultivated trim Seek and obtain, and often find unsought?
Dress'd to his taste, inviting him abroadTell me and I will tell thee what is truth. Can he want occupation, who has these ? O friendly to the best pursuits of man,
Will he be idle, who has much l’ enjoy ? Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace,
Me therefore studious of laborious ease, Domestic life in rural pleasure past !
Not slothful, happy to deceive the time,
Is but a loan to be repaid with use,
From whom are all our blessings, business finds Ev'n as his first progenitor, and quits,
Ev'n here! while sedulous I seek t'improve, Though plac'd in Paradise, (for Earth has still At least neglect not, or leave unemploy'd, Some traces of her youthful beauty left,)
The mind he gave me; driving it, though slack Substantial happiness for transient joy.
Too oft, and much impeded in its work
He, that attends to his interior self,
That has a heart, and keeps it; has a mind Compose the passions, and exalt the mind; That hungers, and supplies it; and who seeks Scenes such as these, 'tis his supreme delight A social, not a dissipated life, To fill with riot, and defile with blood.
Has business ; feels himself engag'd t' achieve Should some contagion, kind to the
No unimportant, though a silent, task. We persecute, annihilate the tribes,
A life all turbulence and noise may seem, That draw the sportsman over hill and dale To him that leads it, wise, and to be prais d ; Fearless and rapt away from all his cares; But wisdom is a pearl with most success Should never game-fowl hatch her eggs again, Sought in still water, and beneath clear skies : Nor baited hook deceive the fish's eye;
He that is ever occupied in storms, Could pageantry and dance, and feast and song, Or dives not for it, or brings up instead, Be quell'd in all our summer-months' retreats; Vainly industrious, a disgraceful prize. How many self-deluded nymphs and swains,
The morning finds the self-sequester'd man Who dream they have a taste for fields and groves, Fresh for his task, intend what task he may. Would find them hideous nurs'ries of the spleen, Whether inclement seasons recommend And crowd the roads, impatient for the town! His warm but simple home, where he enjoys They love the country, and none else, who seek With her, who shares his pleasures and his heart, For their own sake its silence, and its shade, Sweet converse, sipping calm the fragrant lymph, Delights which who would leave, that has a heart Which neatly she prepares; then to his book Susceptible of pity, or a mind
Well chosen, and not sulleply perus'd Cultur'd and capable of sober thought,
In selfish silence, but imparted oft, For all the savage din of the swift pack,
As aught occurs, that she may smile to hear,
Or turn to nourishment, digested well.
For, ere the beech and elm have cast their leaf Or if the garden with its many cares,
Deciduous, when now November dark
Checks vegetation in the torpid plant
Warily therefore, and with prudent heed,
He seeks a favor'd spot; that where he builds Or misapplying his unskilful strength.
Th' agglomerated pile, his frame may front
The Sun's meridian disk, and at the back
Dry fern or litter'd hay, that may imbibe
From the full fork, the saturated straw.
And overlaid with clear translucent glass,
He settles next upon the sloping mount,
Thrice must the voluble and restless Earth
Slow gath'ring in the midst, through the square mass Large expectation, he disposes neat
Diffus’d, attain the surface : when, behold! At measurd distances, that air and sun,
A pestilent and most corrosive steam, Admitted freely, may afford their aid,
Like a gross fog Baotian, rising fast,
And, purified, rejoices to have lost
Within its reeking bosom, threat'ning death
To his young hopes, requires discreet delay. For oft, as if in her the stream of mild
Experience, slow preceptress, teaching oft Maternal nature had revers'd its course,
The way to glory by miscarriage foul, She brings her infants forth with many smiles; Must prompt him, and admonish how to catch But, once deliver'd, kills them with a frown. Th’auspicious moment, when the temper'd heat, He therefore, timely warn'd himself, supplies Friendly to vital motion, may afford Her want of care, screening and keeping warm Soft fonientation, and invite the seed. The plenteous bloom, that no rough blast may sweep The seed, selected wisely, plump, and smooth, His garlands from the boughs. Again, as oft And glossy, he commits to pots of size As the sun peeps and vernal airs breathe mild, Diminutive, well fill'd with well-prepar'd The fence withdrawn, he gives them ev'ry beam, And fruitful soil, that has been treasur'd long, And spreads his hopes before the blaze of day. And drank no moisture from the dripping clouds.
To raise the prickly and green-coated gourd, These on the warm and genial earth, that hides So grateful to the palate, and when rare
The smoking manure, and o'erspreads it all, So coveted, else base and disesteem'd
He places lightly, and, as time subdues Food for the vulgar merely—is an art
The rage of fermentation, plunges deep That toiling ages have but just maturid,
In the soft medium, till they stand immers'd. And at this moment unessay'd in song.
Then rise the tender germs, upstarting quick Yet gnats have had, and frogs and mice, long since, And spreading wide their spongy lobes ; at first Their eulogy; those sang the Mantuan bard, Pale, wan, and livid; but assuming soon, And these the Grecian, in ennobling strains ; If fann'd by balmy and nutritious air, And in thy numbers, Phillips, shines for aye Strain'd through the friendly mats, a vivid green The solitary shilling. Pardon then,
Two leaves produc'd, two rough indented leaves, Ye sage dispensers of poetic fame,
Cautious he pinches from the second stalk Th' ambition of one meaner far, whose pow'rs A pimple, that poriends a future sprout, Presuming an attempt not less sublime,
And interdicts its growth. Thence straight succeed Pant for the praise of dressing to the taste
The branches, sturdy to his utmost wish ; Of critic appetite, no sordid fare,
Prolific all, and harbingers of more. A cucumber, while costly yet and scarce.
The crowded roots demand enlargement now, The stable yields a stercoraceous heap,
And transplantation in an ampler space. Impregnated with quick fermenting salts,
Indulg'd in what they wish, they soon supply And potent to resist the freezing blast;
Large foliage, overshadowing golden flow’rs,
Blown on the summit of th' apparent fruit. Of their complete effect. Much yet remains
And more laborious ; cares on which depends From flow'r to flow'r, and ev'n the breathing air Their vigor, injur'd soon, not soon restor’d. Wafts the rich prize to its appointed use.
The soil must be renew'd, which ofien wash'd Not so when Winter scowls. Assistant Art Loses its treasure of salubrious salts, Then acts in Nature's office, brings to pass And disappoints the roots; the slender roots The glad espousals, and insures the crop.
Close interwoven, where they meet the vase Grudge not, ye rich, (since Luxury must have Must smooth be shorn away; the sapless branch His dainties, and the world's more num'rous half Must fly before the knife; the wither'd leaf Lives by contriving delicates for you,)
Must be detachd, and where it strews the floor Grudge not the cost. Ye little know the cares, Swept with a woman's neatness, breeding else The vigilance, the labor, and the skill
Contagion, and disseminating death.
Would spare, that loves them, offices like these )
All healthful, are th' employs of rural life, Minute as dust, and numberless, oft work
Reiterated as the wheel of time Dire disappointment, that admits no cure,
Runs round; still ending, and beginning still. And which no care can obviate. It were long, Nor are these all. To deck the shapely knoll, Too long, to tell th' expedients and the shifts, That softly swellid and gaily dress'd appears Which he that fights a season so severe
A flow'ry island, from the dark-green lawn Devises, while he guards his tender trust; Emerging, must be deem'd a labor due And oft at last in vain. The learn'd and wise To no mean hand, and asks the touch of taste. Sarcastic would exclaim, and judge the song Here also grateful mixture of well-match'd Cold as its theme, and like its theme the fruit And sorted hues (each giving each relief, Of too much labor, worthless when produc'd. And by contrasted beauty shining more)
Who loves a garden, loves a greenhouse too. Is needful. Strength may wield the pond'rous Unconscious of a less propitious clime,
spade, There blooms exotic beauty, warm and snug, May turn the clod, and wheel the compost home; While the winds whistle, and the snows descend. But elegance, chief grace the garden shows The spiry myrtle with unwith’ring leaf
And most attractive, is the fair
result Shines there, and flourishes. The golden boast of thought, the creature of a polish'd mind. Of Portugal and western India there,
Without it, all is Gothic as the scene The ruddier orange, and the paler lime,
To which th' insipid citizen resorts Peep through their polish'd foliage at the storm, Near yonder heath; where Industry misspent, And seem to smile at what they need not fear. But proud of his uncouth ill-chosen task, Th’amomum there with intermingling flow'rs Has made a Heaven on Earth ; with suns and moons And cherries hangs her twigs. Geranium boasts Of close-ramm'd stones has charg'd th' encumber'd Her crimson honors; and the spangled beau,
soil, Ficoides, glitters bright the winter long.
And fairly laid the zodiac in the dust. All plants, of ev'ry leaf, that can endure
He, therefore, who would see his flow'rs dispos d The winter's frown, if screen’d from his shrewd bite, Sightly and in just order, ere he gives Live there, and prosper. Those Ausonia claims, The beds the trusted treasure of their seeds, Levantine regions these; th’ Azores send Forecasts the future whole; that when the scene Their jessamine: her jessamine remote
Shall break into its preconceiv'd display, Caffraria : foreigners from many lands,
Each for itself, and all as with one voice
Nor even then, dismissing as perform'd
Few self-supported flow'rs endure the wind
Uninjur'd, but expect th' upholding aid Must lend its aid t'illustrate all their charms, of the smooth-shaven prop, and neatly tied, And dress the regular yet various scene.
Are wedded thus, like beauty to old age, Plant behind plant aspiring, in the van
For int’rest sake, the living to the dead. The dwarfish, in the rear retir'd, but still
Some clothe the soil that feeds them, far diffus'd
All hate the rank society of weeds,
That, like the multitude made faction-mad,
What England was, plain, hospitable, kind, Disturb good order, and degrade true worth. And undebauch'd. But we have bid farewell O blest seclusion from a jarring world,
To all the virtues of those better days, Which he, thus occupied, enjoys! Retreat
And all their honest pleasures. Mansions once Cannot indeed to guilty man restore
Knew their own masters; and laborious hinds, Lost innocence, or cancel follies past;
Who had surviv'd the father, serv`d the son.
Is but a transient guest, newly arriv’d,
As soon to be supplanted. He, that saw By vicious Custom, raging uncontrollid
His patrimonial timber cast its leaf, Abroad, and desolating public life.
Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price When fierce Temptation, seconded within To some shrewd sharper, ere it buds again. By traitor Appetite, and arm'd with darts
Estates are landscapes, gaz'd upon awhile, Temper'd in Hell, invades the throbbing breast, Then advertis'd and auctioneer'd away. To combat may be glorious, and success
The country starves, and they, that feed th'o'ercharg'd Perhaps may crown us; but to fly is safe.
And surfeited lewd town with her fair dues, Had I the choice of sublunary good,
By a just judgment strip and starve themselves. What could I wish, that I possess not here? The wings, that waft our riches out of sight, Health, leisure, means t' improve it, friendship, peace, Grow on the gamester's elbows, and th' alert No loose or wanton, though a wand'ring, Muse, And nimble motion of those restless joints, And constant occupation without care.
That never tire, soon fans them all away. Thus blest, I draw a picture of that bliss;
Improvement, too, the idol of the age, Hopeless indeed, that dissipated minds,
Is fed with many a victim. Lo, he comes ! And profligate abusers of a world
Th'omnipotent magician, Brown, appears! Created fair so much in vain for them,
Down falls the venerable pile, th' abode Should seek the guiltless joys, that I describe, of our forefathers-a grave whisker'd race, Allur’d by my report: but sure no less,
But tasteless. Springs a palace in its stead, That self-condemnd they must neglect the prize, But in a distant spot ; where more expos'd And what they will not taste must yet approve. It may enjoy th' advantage of the north, What we admire, we praise; and, when we praise, And aguish east, till time shall have transform'd Advance it into notice, that, its worth
Those naked acres to a shelt’ring grove. Acknowledg’d, others may admire it too.
He speaks. The lake in front becomes a lawn; I therefore recommend, though at the risk
Woods vanish, hills subside, and valleys rise; of popular disgust, yet boldly still,
And streams, as if created for his use, The cause of piety, and sacred truth,
Pursue the track of his directing wand, And virtue, and those scenes, which God ordain'd Sinuous or straight, now rapid and now slow, Should best secure them, and promote them most; Now murm'ring soft, now roaring in cascadesScenes that I love, and with regret perceive Ev'n as he bids! Th' enraptur'd owner smiles. Forsaken, or through folly not enjoy'd.
"Tis finish'd, and yet, finish'd as it seems, Pure is the nymph, though lib'ral of her smiles, Ştill wants a grace, the loveliest it could show, And chaste, though unconfin'd, whom I extol. A mine to satisfy th' enormous cost. Not as the prince in Shushan, when he callid, Drain'd to the last poor item of his wealth, Vain-glorious of her charms, his Vashti forth, He sighs, departs, and leaves th' accomplish'd plan, To grace the full pavilion. His design
That he has touch'd, retouch'd, many a long day Was but to boast his own peculiar good,
Labor'd, and many a night pursu'd in dreams, Which all might view with envy, none partake. Just when it meets his hopes, and proves the Heav'n My charmer is not mine alone; my sweets, He wanted, for a wealthier to enjoy ; And she, that sweetens all my bitters too,
And now perhaps the glorious hour is come, Nature, enchanting Nature, in whose form
When, having no stake left, no pledge t' endear And lineaments divine I trace a hand,
Her int'rests, or that gives her sacred cause
He burns with most intense and flagrant zeal, Strange that so fair a creature should yet want To serve his country. Ministerial grace Admirers, and be destin'd to divide
Deals him out money from the public chest;
To be refunded duly, when his vote
Well-manag'd shall have earn'd its worthy price. Abandon'd, as unworthy of our love.
O innocent, compard with arts like these, But are not wholesome airs, though unperfum'd Crape, and cock'd pistol, and the whistling ball By roses; and clear suns, though scarcely felt; Sent through the trav'ller's temples! He that finds And groves, if unharmonious, yet secure
One drop of Heaven's sweet mercy in his cup, From clamor, and whose very silence charms; Can dig, beg, rot, and perish, well content; To be preferr'd to smoke, to the eclipse,
So he may wrap himself in honest rags That metropolitan volcanoes make,
At his last gasp; but could not for a world Whose Stygian throats breathe darkness all day long; Fish up his dirty and dependent bread And to the stir of Commerce, driving slow, From pools and ditches of the commonwealth, And thund'ring loud, with his ten thousand wheels ? Sordid and sick’ning at his own success. They would be, were not madness in the head, Ambition, av’rice, penury incurr'd And folly in the heart; were England now, By endless riot, vanity, the lust
Of pleasure and variety, dispatch,
Is to conduct it to the destin'd inn; As duly as the swallows disappear,
And, having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on. The world of wand'ring knights and squires to town. He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, London ingulfs them all! The shark is there, Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief And the shark's prey; the spendthrift, and the leech Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some; That sucks him: there the sycophant, and he To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy. Who, with bareheaded and obsequious bows, Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks, Begs a warm oflice, doom'd 10 a cold gaol
Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet And groat per diem, if his patron frown.
With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheeks The levee swarms as if in golden pomp
Fast as the periods from his fluent quill, Were character'd on ev'ry statesman's door, Or charg'd with am'rous sighs of absent swains, “Barter'DAND BANKRUPT FORTUNES MENDED HERE. Or nymphs responsive, equally affect These are the charms, that sully and eclipse His horse and him, unconscious of them all. The charms of nature. "Tis the cruel gripe, But O th' important budget! usher'd in That lean, hard-handed Poverty inflicts,
With such heart-shaking music, who can say The hope of better things, the chance to win, What are its tidings? have our troops awak'd ? The wish to shine, the thirst to be amus'd,
Or do they still, as if with opium drugg d, That at the sound of Winter's hoary wing
Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave? Unpeople all our counties of such herds
Is India free? and does she wear her plum'd Of Auu’ring, loit'ring, cringing, begging, loose, And jeweld turban with a smile of peace, And wanton vagrants, as make London, vast Or do we grind her still? The grand debate, And boundless as it is, a crowded coop.
The popular harangue, the tart reply, O thou, resort and mart of all the Earth,
The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, Chequer'd with all complexions of mankind, And the loud laugh-I long to know them all; And spotted with all crimes; in whom I see I burn to set th' imprison'd wranglers free, Much that I love, and more that I admire,
And give them voice and uti'rance once again. And all that I abhor; thou freckled fair,
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, That pleasest and yet shock'st me, I can laugh, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And I can weep, can hope, and can despond, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Feel wrath and pity, when I think on thee! Throws up a steamy column, and the cups Ten righteous would have sav'd a city once, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, And thou hast many righteous.—Well for thee So let us welcome peaceful ev'ning in. That salt preserves thee; more corrupted else, Not such his ev’ning, who with shining face And therefore more obnoxious, at this hour,
Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeez'd Than Sodom in her day had pow'r to be,
And bord with elbow-points through both his sides For whom God heard his Abr'bam plead in vain. Out-scolds the ranting actor on the stage :
Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb,
of patriots, bursting with heroic rage,
Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles.
This folio of four pages, happy work!
Which not ev'n critics criticise ; that holds
Inquisitive Attention, while I read,
Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, The post comes in. The newspaper is read. The Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break;
World contemplated at a distance. Address to What is it, but a map of busy life, Winter. The rural amusements of a winter even-Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns ? ing compared with the fashionable ones. Ad. Here runs the mountainous and craggy ridge, dress to evening. A brown study. Fall of snow That tempts Ambition. On the summit see in the evening. The wagoner. A poor family. The seals of office glitter in his eyes : piece. The rural thief. Public houses. The He climbs, he pants, he grasps them! At his heels multitude of them censured. The farmer's daugh- Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, ter: what she was-what she is. The simplicity And with a dext'rous jerk soon twists him down, of country manners almost lost. Causes of the And wins them, but to lose them in his turn. change. Desertion of the country by the rich. Here rills of oily eloquence in soft Neglect of magistrates. The militia principally Meanders lubricate the course they take; in fault. The new recruit and his transformation. The modest speaker is asham'd and grieva Reflection on bodies corporate. The love of rural T engross a moment's notice; and yet begs, objects natural to all, and never to be totally ex. Begs a propitious ear for his poor thoughts, tinguished.
However trivial all that be conceives.
Sweet bashfulness! it claims at least this praise ; Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, The dearth of information and good sense, That with its wearisome but needful length That it foretells us, always comes to pass. Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the Moon Cat'racts of declamation thunder here : Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright;- There forests of no meaning spread the page, He comes, the herald of a noisy world.
In which all comprehension wanders lost ; With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks; While fields of pleasantry amuse us there News from all nations lumb'ring at his back. With merry descants on a nation's woes. True to his charge, the close-pack'd load behind, The rest appears a wilderness of strange Yet careless what he brings, his one concern But gay confusion; roses for the cheeks