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XIII.

From labour health, from health contentment fprings. Contentment opes the fource of every joy. He envied not, he never thought of kings; Nor from thefe appetites fuftain'd annoy, Which chance may fruftrate, or indulgence cloy; Nor Fate his calm and humble hopes beguiled; He mourn'd no recreant friend, nor miftrefs coy, For on his vows the blameless Phœbe fmil'd, And her alone he loved, and loved her from a child.

XIV.

No jealoufy their dawn of love o‘ercast,

Nor blafted were their wedded days with ftrife:
Each feafon look'd delightful as it paft,

To the fond husband, and the faithful wife.
Beyond the lowly vale of fhepherd life
They never roam'd; fecure beneath the form
Which in Ambition's lofty land is rife,

Where peace and love are canker'd by the worm
Of pride, each bud of joy industrious deform.

XV.

The wight whofe tale thefe artlefs lines unfold,
Was all the offspring of this fimple pair.
His birth no oracle or feer foretold:
No prodigy appear'd in earth or air,

Nor aught that might a ftrange event declare.
You guefs each circumftance of EDWIN's birth;
The parent's tranfport, and the parent's care;
The Goffip's prayer for wealth, and wit, and worth
And one long fummer-day of indolence and mirth.
XVI.

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And yet poor Edwin was no vulgar boy;

Deep thought oft feem'd to fix his infant eye.
Dainties he heeded not, nor gaude, nor toy,
Save one short pipe of rudet minstrelly.
Silent when glad; affectionate, though fhy,;
And now his look was moft demurely fad,

And now he laugh'd aloud, yet none knew why. The neighbours ftar'd and figh'd, yet bleft the lad: Some deem'd him wond'rous wife, and some believ'd him mad.

XVII.

But why should I his childish feats difplay?
Concourfe and noife, and toil he ever fled;
Nor cared to mingle in the clamorous fray
Of fquabbling imps, but to the foreft fped,
Or, roam'd at large the lonely mountain's head;
Or, where the maze of fome bewilder'd ftream
To deep untrodden groves his footsteps led,
There would he wander wild, 'till Phœbus beam,
Shot from the western cliff, released the weary team.

XVIII.

Th' exploit of ftrength, dexterity, or speed,
To him nor vanity nor joy could bring.

His heart, from cruel fport enftranged, would bleed
To work the woe of any living thing,

By trap, by net, by arrow, or by fling;
Thefe he detefted, thofe he fcorn'd to wield:
He wifh'd to be the guardian, not the king,
Tyrant far lefs, or traitor of the field.

And fure the fylvan reign unbloody joy might yield.

XIX.

Lo? where the tripling, wrapt in wonder, roves
Beneath the precipice o'erhung with pine;
And fees, on high, amidst th' encircling groves
From cliff to cliff the foaming torrents fhine:
While waters, woods, and winds in concert join,
And Echo fwells the chorus to the fkies.
Would Edwin this majestic fcene refign

For aught the huntfmen's puny craft fupplies?
Ah! no: he better knows great Nature's charms to prize.

XX.

And oft he traced the uplands, to furvey,
When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn,

The crimson cloud, blue main, and mountain grey,
And lake, dim-gleaming on the fmoky lawn;
Far to the west, the long long, vale withdrawn,
Where twilight loves to linger for a while;
And now he faintly kens the bounding fawn,
And villager abroad at early toil.—

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But, lo! the fun appears! and heaven, earth, ocean

XXI.

And oft the craggy cliff he lov'd to climb, When all in mift the world below was loft. When dreadful pleafure! there to stand fublime, Like fhipwreck'd mariner on defart coaft, And view th' enormous waste of vapour, toft In billows, lengthening to the horizon round, Now fcoop'd in gulfs, with mountains now embofs'di And hear the voice of mirth and fong rebound, Flocks, herds, and waterfalls, along the hoar profound!

XXII.

In truth he was a strange and wayward wight,
Fond of each gentle, and each dreadful scene.
In darkness, and in ftorm, he found delight:
Nor lefs, than when an ocean-wave ferene
The fouthern fun diffufed his dazzling fhène.
Even fad viciffitude amufed his foul;
And if a figh would fometimes intervene,
And down his cheek a tear of pity roll,

A figh, a tear, so fweet, he wish'd not to controul.

XXIII.

" O ye wild groves, O where is now your bloom!" (The Mufe interprets thus his tender thought.) Your flowers, your verdure, and your balmy gloom, Of late fo grateful in the hour of drought! Why do the birds, that fong and rapture brought To all your bowers, their mansions now forfake? Ah! why has fickle chance this ruin wrought; For now the storm howls mournful through the brake, And, the dead foliage flies in many a fhapelefs flake.

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XXIV.

Where now the rill, melodious, pure, and cool,
And meads, with life, and mirth, and beauty crown'd!
Ah! fee th' unfightly flime, and fluggish pool,
Have all the folitary vale embrown'd;

Fied each fair form, and mute each melting found,
The raven croaks forlorn on naked fpray :

And, hark! the river, buriting every mound,

Down the vale thunders; and with wafteful fway, Uproots the grove, and rolls the shatter'd rocks away.

XXV.

'Yet fuch the defliny of all on earth :
So flourishes and fades majestic man.
Fair is the bud his vernal morn brings forth,
And follering gales a while the nurfling fan.
O fmile, ye heavens, ferene; ye
mildews wan,

Ye blighting whirlwinds, fpare his balmy prime,
Nor leffen of his life the little fpan.

Born on the fift, though filent, wings of Time, Old-age comes on a pace to ravage all the clime.

XXVI.

And be it fo. Let thofe deplore their doom, Whofe hopes ftill grovels in this dark fojourn. But lofty fouls who look beyond the tomb, Can fmile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn. Shall fpring to thefe fad fcenes no more return? Is yonder wave the fun's eternal bed?— Soon fhall the orient with new luftre burn, And fpring fall foon her vital influence shed, Again attune, the grove, again adorn the mead.

XXVII.

Shall I be left abandon'd in the dust,

When Fate, relenting, lets the flower revive?
Shall nature's voice, to man alone unjust,
Bid him, though doom'd to perish, hope to live
Is it for this fair Virtue oft muft ftrive
With difappointment, penury, and pain?

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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 reign.'

XXVIII.

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

• Let man's own sphere, (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..

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 refufe to hear!
To others do (the law is not fevere)

What to thyfelf thou wifheft to be done.
Forgive thy foes; and 'love thy parents dear,
And friends, and native land; nor thofe alone;
All human weal and wo learn thou to make thine own.

XXX.

See in the rear of the warm funny shower, The vifionary boy from fhelter fly! For now the form of fummer rain is o’er, Ard cool, and fresh, and fragrant is the sky! And, lo! in the dark east, expanded high, The rainbow brightens to the fetting fun; Fond fool, that deem'st the streaming glory nigh, How vain the chace thine ardour has begun! 'Tis fled afar, ere half thy purposed race be run.

XXXI.

Yet could't thou learn, that thus it fares with age, When pleasure, wealth, or power, the bosom warm,

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