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No: Heaven's immortal fpring fhall yet arrive;
And man's majestic beauty bloom again,

Bright through th' eternal year of Love s triumphant

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XXVIII.

This truth fublime his fimple fire had taught,
In footh, 'twas all the thepherd knew,
No fubtle or fuperfluous lore he fought,
Nor ever wifh'd his Edwin to pursue.

'Let man's own fphere, (quoth he) confine his view, Be man's peculiar work his fole delight.'

And much, and oft, he warn ́d him, to efchew Falfehood and guile, and aye maintain the right, By pleasure unfeduced, unawed by lawless might.

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XXIX.

'And, from the prayer of Want, and plaint of Wo, 'O never, never turn away thine ear,

Forlorn in this bleak wilderness below,

Ah! what were men, fhould Heaven refuse to hear! To others do (the law is not fevere)

'What to thyfelf thou witheft to be done.

Forgive thy foes; and love thy parents dear, And friends, and native land; nor those alone; All human weal and wo learn thou to make thine own.

XXX.

See in the rear of the warm funny fhower,
The vifionary boy from shelter fly!

For now the form of fummer rain is o'er,
A: d cool, and fresh, and fragrant is the sky!
And, lo! in the dark eaft, expanded high,
The rainbow brightens to the fetting fun;
Fond fool, that deem'it the ftreaming glory nigh,
How vain the chace thine ardour has begun!
'Tis fled afar, ere half thy purpofed race be run.

XXXI.

Yet conld' thou learn, that thus it fares with age, When pleasure, wealth, or power, the bosom warm,

This baffled hope might tame thy manhood's rage,
And difappointment of her fting difarm.-

But why fhould forefight thy fond heart alarm?
Perish the lore that deadens young

defire!

Purfue, poor imp, th' imaginary charm,

Indulge gay Hope, and Fancy's pleafing fire : Fancy and Hope too foon fhall of themselves expire.

XXXII.

When the long founding curfew from afar
Loaded with loud lament the lonely gale,
Young Edwin lighted by the evening ftar,
Lingering and liftening, wander'd down the vale.
There would he dream of graves, and coarses pale;
And ghofts, that to the charnel-dungeon throng,
And drag a length of clanking chain, and wail,
Till filenced by the owl's terrific fong,

'Or blaft that shrieks by fits the fhuddering ifles along.

XXXIII.

Or, when the fetting moon, in crimson dyed, Hung o'er the dark and melancholy deep, To haunted ftream, remote from man he hied, Where Fays of yore their revels wont to keep; And there let Fancy roam at large, till fleep A vifion brought to his intranced fight. And first, a wildly murmuring wind "gan creep Shrill to his ringing ear; then tapers bright, With inftantaneous gleam, illumed the vault of Night.

XXXIV.

Anon in view a portal's blazon'd arch
Arofe, the trumpet bids the valves unfold:
And forth an hoft of little warriors march,
Grafping the diamon'd lance, and targe of gold.
Their look was gentle, their demeanour bold,
And green their helms, and green their filk attire:
And here and there, right venerably old,

The long-robed minstrels wake the warbling wire. And fome with mellow breath the martial pipe infpire.

XXXV.

With merriment, and fong, and timbrels clear,
A troop of dames from myrtle bowers advance;
The little warrior's doff the targe and spear,
And loud enlivening ftrains provoke the dance.
They meet, they dart away, they wheel askance ;
To right, to left, they thrid the flying maze;
Now bound aloft with vigorous fpring, then glance
Rapid along with many colour'd rays

Of tapers, gems, and gold, the echoing forefts blaze.

XXXVI.

The dream is fled. Proud harbinger of day,
Who fear'dft the vifion with thy clarion fhrill,
Fell chanticleer: who oft has reft away
My fancied good, and brought fubftantial ill!
O to thy curfed scream, difcordant fill,
Let Harmony aye fhut her gentle ear:
Thy boaftful mirth let jealous rivals fpill,
Infult thy creft, and gloffy pinions tear,
And ever in thy dreams the ruthless fox appear.

Forbear, my Mufe.

Revoke the fpell.

XXXVII.

Let Love attune thy line.
Thine Edwin frets not fo,
For how fhould he at wicked chance repine,
Who feels from every change amusement flow?
Even now his eyes with fimiles of rapture glow,
As on he wanders through the fcene of morn,
Where the fresh flowers in living luftre blow,
Where thousand pearls the dewy lawns adorn,
A thousand notes of joy in every breeze are born.

XXXVIII.

But who the melodies of mora can tell?

The wild brook babbling down the mountain fide
The lowing herd; the fheepfold's fimple bell;
The pipe of early fhepherd dim deferied
In the lone valley; echoing far and wide
The clamorous horn along the cliffs above;

;

The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide ;

. The hum of bres, and linnet's lay of love,
And the full choir that wakes the univerfal grove.

XXXIX.

The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark;

Crown'd with her pail the tripping milkmaid fings; The whiftling plowman italks afield; and, hark! Down the rough flope the ponderous waggon rings; Through rustling corn the hare aftonifh d fprings; Slow tolls the village-clock the drowfy hour; The patridge burits away on whirring wings; Deep mourns the turtle in fequefter'd bower, And fhrill lark carols clear from her actial tour.

XL.

O Nature, how in every charm fupreme!
Whofe votaries fealt on raptures ever new!
O for the voice and fire of feraphim,
To fing thy glories with devotion due!
Bleft be the day I 'fcaped the wrangling crew,
From Pyrrho's maze, and Epicurus' fly;
And held high converfe with the godlike few,
Who to th' enraptur'd heart, and ear, and eye,
Teach beauty, virtue, truth, and love, and melody.

XLI.

Hence! ye, who fnare and flupify the mind,
Sophifts, of beauty, virtue, joy, the bane!
Greedy and fell, though impotcut and blind,
Wh fpread your filthy nets in Truth's fair fane,
And ever ply your venom'd fangs amain!

Hence to dark Error's den, whofe rankling flime
Fir gave you form! hence! left the Mufe fhould deign
(Though loath on theme fo mean to waste a ryhme),
With vengeance to purfue your facrilegious crime.

XLII.

But hail, ye mighty makers of the lay,
Nature's true fons, the friends of man and truth!

Whose song, sublimely fweet, ferenely gay,
Amufed my childhood, and inform'd my youth.
O let your spirit ftill my bofom footh,

Infpire my dreams, and my wild wanderings guide!
Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth;
For well I know, where-ever ye refide,

There harmony, and peace, and innocence, abide.

XLIII.

Ah me! abandon'd on the lonesome plain,
As yet poor Edwin never knew your lore,
Save when against the winter's drenching rain,
And driving fnow, the cottage fhut the door.
Then, as inftructed by tradition hoar,
Her legends when the Beldam 'gan impart,
Or chant the old heroic ditty o'er,

Wonder and joy ran thrilling to his heart;
Much he the tale admir'd, but more the tuneful art.

XLIV.

Various and ftrange was the long-winded tale;
And halls, and knights, and feats of arms display'd;
Or merry fwains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And fing, enamour'd of the nut-brown maid;
The moon-light revel of the fairy glade;
Or hags, that fuckle an infernal brood,
And ply in caves th' unutterable trade*,

Midt fiends and fpectres, quench the moon in blood, Yell in the midnight storm, or ride th' infuriate flood.

XLV.

But when to horror his amazement rofe,
A gentler ftrain the Beldam would rehearse,

* Allufion to SHAKESPEAR.

Macbeth. How now, ye fecret, black, and midnighthags,

What is't you do?

Witches. A deed without a Name.

C

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