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NATURE I'll court in her sequefter'd haunts,
By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell; Where the pois'd lark his evening ditty chaunts, And HEALTH, and PEACE, and CONTEMPLA
TION dwell. There study shall with SOLITUDE recline; And FRIENDSHIP pledge me to his fellow
swains; And toil and TEMPERANCE fedately twine
The flender cord that fluttering life sustains : And fearless POVERTY shall guard the door;
And TASTE unspoiled the frugal table spread; And INDUSTRY supply the humble store;
And sleep, unbribed, his dews refreshing shed: White-mantled INNOCENCE, ætherial sprite, Shall chase far off the goblins of the night : And INDEPENDENCE O'er the day preside, Propitious power! my patron and my pride.
IN the barn
the tenant cock, Close to Partlet perch'd on hight, Briskly crows, (the shepherd's clock!)
Jocund that the morning's nigh. Swiftly from the mountain's brow,
Shadows, nurs'd by night, retire: And the peeping sun-beam, now,
Paints with gold the village spire.
Plaintive where the prates at night;
From the low-roof'd cottage ridge,
See the chatt'ring swallow fpring; Darting through the one-arch'd bridge,
Quick The dips her dappled wing. Now the pine-tree's waving top
Gently greets the morning gale!
Dailies in the dewy dale.
(Restless till her task be done) Now, the busy bee's employ'd
Sipping dew before the sun. Trickling through the crevic'd rock,
Where the limpid stream diftills, Sweet refreshment waits the flock
When 'tis sun-drove from the hills. Colin, for the promis'd corn
(Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) Anxious, hears the huntsman's horn,
Boldly founding, drown his pipe. Sweet,--O fweet, the warbling throng,
On the white emblossom'd spray! Nature's universal song,
Echoes to the rifing day.
Fervid on the glitt'ring flood,
Now, the noon-tide radiance glows : Drooping o'er its infant bud,
Not a dew-drop's left the rose. By the brook the shepherd dines;
From the fierce meridian heat Shelter'd, by the branching pines,
Pendent o'er his graffy seat.
Now the flock forfakes the glade,
Where, uncheck'd the sun-beams fall; Sure to find a pleasing shade
By the ivy’d Abbey wall. Echo in her airy round,
O'er the river, rock, and hill, Cannot catch a single found,
Save the clack of yonder mill. Cattle court the zephyrs bland,
Where the streamlet wanders cool; Or with languid silence stand
Midway in the marshy pool. But from mountain, dell, or stream,
Not a flutt'ring zephyr springs : Fearful left the nood-tide beam
Scorch its soft, its filken wings. Not a leaf has leave to stir,
Nature's lull’d-serene--and still!
Sleeping on the heath-clad hill.
Till the fresh descending shower,
Raises ev'ry fainting flower.
Now the warblers' throats in tune!
Brighten'd by the beams of noon!
O'er the heath the heifer strays
Free,-(the furrow'd task is done)
Now he hides behind the hill,
Sinking from a golden sky: Can the pencil's mimic skill,
Copy the refulgent dye? Trudging as the ploughmen go,
(To the smoking hamlet bound) Giant-like their shadows grow,
Lengthen’d o'er the level ground. Where the rising forest spreads,
Shelter for the lordly dome! To their high-built airy beds,
See the rooks returning home! As the lark with vary'd tune,
Carols to the evening loud; Mark the mild resplendent moon,
Breaking through a parted cloud! Now the hermit howlet peeps
From the barn, or twisted brake: And the blue mist slowly creeps,
Curling on the filver lake.
Playful from its bosom (prings;
Verges in successive rings. Tripping through the filken grass,
O’er the path-divided dale, Mark the rose complexion’d lass,
With her well-pois'd milking pail. Linnets, with unnumber'd notes,
And the cuckoo-bird with two, Tuning sweet their mellow throats,
Bid the setting sun adieu.
THE COUNTRY-BOX, THE wealthy cit, grown old in trade,
Now wishes for the rural shade,
What fignify the loads of wealth,