SPRING.
[5]COME, gentle SPRING, AETHEREAL MILDNESS, come,
And from the boſom of yon dropping cloud,
While muſic wakes around, veil'd in a ſhower
Of ſhadowing roſes, on our plains deſcend.
O HERTFORD, fitted, or to ſhine in courts,
With unaffected grace; or walk the plain,
[6] With INNOCENCE and MEDITATION join'd
In ſoft aſſemblage, liſten to my ſong,
That thy own Seaſon paints; when NATURE all
Is blooming, and benevolent like thee.
AND ſee where ſurly WINTER paſſes off,
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blaſts;
His blaſts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The ſhatter'd foreſt, and the ravag'd vale:
While ſofter gales ſucceed, at whoſe kind touch,
Diſſolving ſnows in livid torrents loſt,
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.
As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd,
And WINTER oft at eve reſumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving ſleets
[7] Deform the day delightleſs; ſo that ſcarce
The Bittern knows the time, with bill ingulpht
To ſhake the ſounding marſh; or from the ſhore
The Plovers theirs, to ſcatter o'er the heath,
And ſing their wild notes to the liſtening waſte.
AT laſt from ARIES rolls the bounteous ſun,
And the bright BULL receives him. Then no more
Th' expanſive atmoſphere is cramp'd with cold,
But full of life, and vivifying ſoul,
Lifts the light clouds ſublime, and ſpreads them thin,
Fleecy, and white, o'er all-ſurrounding heaven.
FORTH fly the tepid airs; and unconfin'd
Unbinding earth, the moving ſoftneſs ſtrays.
Joyous th' impatient husbandman perceives
[8] Relenting nature, and his luſty ſteers,
Drives from their ſtalls, to where the well-us'd plow
Lies in the furrow looſen'd from the froſt.
There, unrefuſing to the harneſs'd yoke,
They lend their ſhoulder, and begin their toil,
Chear'd by the ſimple ſong, and ſoaring lark.
Meanwhile incumbent o'er the ſhining ſhare
The maſter leans, removes th' obſtructing clay,
Winds the whole work, and ſidelong lays the glebe.
WHITE thro' the neighbouring fields the ſower ſtalks
With meaſur'd ſtep, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful boſom of the Ground.
The harrow follows harſh, and ſhuts the ſcene.
BE gracious, HEAVEN! for now laborious man
Has done his due. Ye foſtering breezes, blow!
[9] Ye ſoftening dews, ye tender ſhowers, deſcend!
And temper all, thou world-reviving ſun,
Into the perfect year! Nor, ye who live
In luxury and eaſe, in pomp and pride,
Think theſe loſt themes unworthy of your ear.
'Twas ſuch as theſe the rural MARO ſung,
To the full ROMAN court, in all its height
Of elegance and taſte. The ſacred plow
Employ'd the kings and fathers of mankind,
In antient times. And ſome, with whom compar'd
You're but the beings of a ſummer's day,
Have held the ſcale of juſtice, ſhook the lance
Of mighty war, then with deſcending hand,
Unus'd to little delicacies, ſeiz'd
The plow, and greatly independant liv'd.
[10]
YE generous BRITONS, cultivate the plow!
And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales,
Let AUTUMN ſpread his treaſures to the ſun,
Luxuriant, and unbounded. As the ſea,
Far thro' his azure, turbulent extent,
Your empire owns, and from a thouſand ſhores
Wafts all the pomp of life into your ports;
So with ſuperior boon may your rich ſoil,
Exuberant, nature's better bleſſings pour
O'er every land, the naked nations cloath,
And be th' exhauſtleſs granary of a world.
NOR thro' the lenient air alone, this change
Delicious breathes; the penetrative ſun,
His force deep darting to the dark retreat
[11] Of vegetation, ſets the ſteaming power
At large, to wander o'er the verdant earth,
In various hues, but chiefly thee, gay GREEN!
Thou ſmiling NATURE's univerſal robe!
United light and ſhade! where the ſight dwells
With growing ſtrength, and ever-new delight!
FROM the moiſt meadow to the brown-brow'd hill,
Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs,
And ſwells, and deepens to the cheriſh'd eye.
The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves
Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees,
Till the whole leafy foreſt ſtands diſplay'd,
In full luxuriance, to the ſighing gales;
While the deer ruſtle thro' the twining brake,
[12] And the birds ſing conceal'd. At once array'd
In all the colours of the fluſhing year,
By NATURE's ſwift and ſecret-working hand,
The garden glows, and fills the liberal air
With laviſh fragrance; while the promis'd fruit
Lies yet a little embryo, unperceiv'd,
Within its crimſon folds. Now from the town
Buried in ſmoke, and ſleep, and noiſom damps,
Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields,
Where freſhneſs breathes, and daſh the lucid drops
From the bent buſh, as thro' the fuming maze
Of ſweet-briar hedges I purſue my walk;
Or taſte the ſmell of dairy; or aſcend
Some eminence, AUGUSTA, in thy plains,
And ſee the country far diffus'd around
One boundleſs bluſh, one white empurpled ſhower
[13] Of mingled bloſſoms; where the raptur'd eye
Travels from joy to joy, and hid beneath
The fair profuſion, yellow AUTUMN ſpies.
IF bruſh'd from RUSSIAN wilds a cutting gale
Riſe not, and ſcatter from his foggy wings
The bitter mildew, or dry-blowing breathe
Untimely froſt; before whoſe baleful blaſt,
The full-blown SPRING thro' all her foliage ſhrinks,
Into a ſmutty, wide-dejected waſte.
For oft engender'd by the hazy north,
Myriads on Myriads, inſect armies waft
Keen in the poiſon'd breeze; and waſteful eat
Thro' buds, and bark, into the blacken'd Core,
Their eager way. A feeble race! ſcarce ſeen,
Save by the prying eye? yet famine waits
[14] On their corroſive courſe, and kills the year.
Sometimes o'er cities as they ſteer their flight,
Where riſing vapour melts their wings away,
Gaz'd by th' aſtoniſh'd crowd, the horrid ſhower
Deſcends. And hence the skilful farmer chaff.
And blazing ſtraw before his orchard burns;
Till, all involv'd in ſmoke, the latent foe
From every cranny ſuffocated falls;
Or onions, ſteaming hot, beneath his trees
Expoſes, fatal to the froſty tribe:
Nor, from their friendly task, the buſy bill
Of little trooping birds inſtinctive ſcares.
THESE are not idle philoſophick dreams,
Full NATURE ſwarms with life. Th' unfaithful fen
In putrid ſteams emits the livid cloud
[15] Of Peſtilence. Thro' ſubterranean Cells,
Where ſearching ſun-beams never found a way,
Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf
Wants not its ſoft inhabitants. The ſtone,
Hard as it is, in every winding pore
Holds multitudes. But chief the foreſt-boughs,
Which dance unnumber'd to th' inſpiring breeze,
The downy orchard, and the melting pulp
Of mellow fruit the nameleſs nations feed
Of evaneſcent Inſects. Where the pool
Stands mantled o'er with green, inviſible,
Amid the floating verdure millions ſtray.
Each liquid too, whether of acid taſte,
Potent, or mild, with various forms abounds.
Nor is the lucid ſtream, nor the pure air,
Tho' one tranſparent vacancy they ſeem,
[16] Devoid of theirs. Even animals ſubſiſt
On animals, in infinite deſcent;
And all ſo fine adjuſted, that the loſs
Of the leaſt ſpecies would diſturb the whole.
Stranger than this th' inſpective glaſs confirms
And to the curious gives th' amazing ſcenes
Of leſſening life; by WISDOM kindly hid
From eye, and ear of man: for if at once
The worlds in worlds enclos'd were puſh'd to light,
Seen by his ſharpen'd eye, and by his ear
Intenſely bended heard, from the choice cate,
The freſheſt viands, and the brighteſt wines,
He'd turn abhorrent, and in dead of night,
When ſilence ſleeps o'er all, be ſtun'd with noiſe.
[17]
THE North-eaſt ſpends his rage, and now ſhut up
Within his iron caves, th' effuſive South
Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven
Breaths the big clouds with vernal ſhowers diſtent.
At firſt a dusky wreath they ſeem to riſe,
Scarce ſtaining aether; but by faſt degrees,
In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour ſails
Along the loaded sky, and mingling thick
Sits on th' horizon round a ſettled gloom.
Not ſuch as wintry ſtorms on mortals ſhed,
Oppreſſing life, but lovely, gentle, kind,
And full of every hope, and every joy,
The wiſh of nature. Gradual ſinks the breeze
Into a perfect calm; that not a breath
Is heard to quiver thro' the cloſing woods,
[18] Or ruſtling turn the many-twinkling leaves
Of aſpin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus'd
In glaſſy breadth, ſeem thro' deluſive lapſe
Forgetful of their courſe. 'Tis ſilence all,
And pleaſing expectation. Herds and flocks
Drop the dry ſprig, and mute-imploring eye
The falling verdure. Huſh'd in ſhort ſuſpenſe,
The plumy people ſtreak their wings with oil,
And wait th' approaching ſign to ſtrike at once
Into the general choir. Even mountains, vales,
And foreſts ſeem, expanſive, to demand
The promis'd ſweetneſs. Man ſuperior walks
Amid the glad creation, muſing praiſe,
And looking lively gratitude. At laſt
The clouds conſign their treaſures to the fields,
And, ſoftly ſhaking on the dimply pool
[19] Preluſive drops, let all their moiſture flow,
In large effuſion o'er the freſhen'd world,
'Tis ſcarce to patter heard, the ſtealing ſhower,
By ſuch as wander thro' the foreſt-walks,
Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.
But who can hold the ſhade, while HEAVEN deſcends
In univerſal bounty, ſhedding herbs,
And fruits, and flowers, on NATURE's ample lap?
Imagination fir'd prevents their growth,
And while the verdant nutriment diſtills,
Beholds the kindling country colour round.
THUS all day long the full-diſtended clouds
Indulge their genial ſtores, and well-ſhower'd earth
Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life;
Till, in the weſtern-sky, the downward ſun
[20] Looks out illuſtrious from amidſt the fluſh
Of broken clouds, gay-ſhifting to his beam.
The rapid radiance inſtantaneous ſtrikes
Th' illumin'd mountain thro' the foreſt ſtreams,
Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow miſt,
Far ſmoaking o'er th' interminable plain,
In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems.
Moiſt, bright, and green, the landskip laughs around.
Full ſwell the woods; their every muſick wakes,
Mix'd in wild conſort with the warbling brooks
Increas'd, th'unnumber'd bleatings of the hills,
The hollow lows reſponſive from the vales,
Whence blending all the ſweeten'd zephyr ſprings.
Mean time refracted from yon eaſtern cloud,
Beſtriding earth, the grand aethereal bow
Shoots up immenſe! and every hue unfolds,
[21] In fair proportion running from the red,
To where the violet fades into the sky.
Here, mighty NEWTON, the diſſolving clouds
Are, as they ſcatter round, thy numerous priſm,
Untwiſting to the philoſophic eye
The various twine of light, by thee purſu'd
Thro' the white mingling maze. Not ſo the ſwain,
He wondering views the bright enchantment bend,
Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs
To catch the falling glory; but amaz'd
Beholds th' amuſive arch before him fly,
Then vaniſh quite away. Still night ſucceeds,
A ſoften'd ſhade, and ſaturated earth
Awaits the morning beam, to give again,
Tranſmuted ſoon by Nature's chymiſtry,
The blooming bleſſings of the former day.
[22]
THEN ſpring the living herbs, profuſely wild,
O'er all the deep-green earth, beyond the power
Of BOTANIST to number up their tribes;
Whether he ſteals along the lonely dale
In ſilent ſearch; or thro' the foreſt, rank
With what the dull incurious weeds account,
Burſts his blind way; or climbs the mountain rock,
Fir'd by the nodding verdure of its brow.
With ſuch a liberal hand has NATURE flung
Their ſeeds abroad, blown them about in winds,
Innumerous mix'd them with the nurſing mold,
The moiſtening current, and prolific rain.
BUT who their virtues can declare? Who pierce
With viſion pure into theſe ſecret ſtores
Of life, and health, and joy? The food of man
[23] While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told
A length of golden years, unfleſh'd in blood,
A ſtranger to the ſavage arts of life,
Death, rapine, carnage, ſurfeit, and diſeaſe,
The lord, and not the tyrant of the world.
THEN the glad morning wak'd the gladden'd race
Of uncorrupted men, nor bluſh'd to ſee
The ſluggard ſleep beneath her ſacred beam.
For their light ſlumbers gently fum'd away,
And up they roſe as vigorous as the ſun,
Or to the culture of the willing glebe,
Or to the chearful tendance of the flock.
Mean time the ſong went round; and dance, and ſport,
Wiſdom; and friendly talk ſucceſſive ſtole
Their hours away. While in the roſy vale
[24] Love breath'd his infant ſighs, from anguiſh free,
Replete with bliſs, and only wept for joy.
Nor yet injurious act, nor ſurly deed
Was known among theſe happy ſons of heaven;
For reaſon and benevolence were law.
Harmonious nature too look'd ſmiling on.
Clean ſhone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales,
And balmy ſpirit all. The youthful ſun
Shot his beſt rays; and ſtill the gracious clouds
Drop'd fatneſs down; as o'er the ſwelling mead
The herds and flocks commixing play'd ſecure.
Which when, emergent from the gloomy wood,
The glaring lion ſaw, his horrid heart
Was meeken'd, and he join'd his ſullen joy.
For muſick held the whole in perfect peace:
Soft ſigh'd the flute; the tender voice was heard,
[25] Warbling the joyous heart; the woodlands round
Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flow'd
In conſonance. Such were theſe prime of days.
THIS to the POETS gave the golden age;
When, as they ſung in elevated phraſe,
The ſailor-pine had not the nations yet
In commerce mix'd; for every country teem'd
With every thing. Spontaneous harveſts wav'd,
Still in a ſea of yellow plenty round.
The foreſt was the vineyard, where untaught
To climb, unprun'd and wild, the juicy grape
Burſt into floods of wine. The knotted oak
Shook from his boughs the long tranſparent ſtreams
Of honey, creeping thro' the matted graſs,
Th' uncultivated thorn a ruddy ſhower
[26] Of fruitage ſhed, on ſuch as ſat below,
In blooming eaſe, and from brown labour free,
Save what the copious gathering, grateful gave.
The Rivers foam'd with nectar; or diffuſe,
Silent, and ſoft, the milky maze devolv'd.
Nor had the ſpongy, full-expanded fleece,
Yet drunk the TYRIAN dye. The ſtately ram
Shone thro' the mead, in native purple clad,
Or milder ſaffron; and the dancing lamb
The vivid crimſon to the ſun diſclos'd.
Nothing had power to hurt the ſavage ſoul,
Yet untransfus'd into the tyger's heart,
Burn'd not his bowels, nor his gameſome paw
Drove on the fleecy partners of his play:
While from the flowery brake the ſerpent roll'd
His fairer ſpires, and play'd his pointleſs tongue.
[27]
BUT now whate'er theſe gaudy fables meant,
And the white minutes which they ſhadow'd out,
Are found no more amid thoſe iron times,
Thoſe dregs of life! in which the human mind
Has loſt that harmony ineffable,
Which warms the ſoul of happineſs; and all
Is off the poiſe within; the paſſions all
Have burſt their bounds; and reaſon half extinct,
Or impotent, or elſe approving, ſees
The foul diſorder. Anger ſtorms at large,
Without an equal cauſe; and fell revenge
Supports the falling rage. Cloſe envy bites
With venom'd tooth; while weak, unmanly fear,
Full of frail fancies, looſens every power.
Even love itſelf is bitterneſs of ſoul,
[28] A pleaſing anguiſh pining at the heart.
Hope ſickens with extravagance; and grief,
Of life impatient, into madneſs ſwells;
Or in dead ſilence waſtes the weeping hours.
Theſe, and a thouſand mix'd emotions more,
From ever-changing views of good and ill,
Form'd infinitely various, vex the mind
With endleſs ſtorm. Whence, inly-rankling, grows
The ſelfiſh thought, a liſtleſs inconcern,
Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good;
Then dark diſguſt, and malice, winding wiles,
Sneaking deceit, and coward villany:
At laſt deep-rooted hatred, lewd reproach,
Convulſive wrath, and thoughtleſs fury, quick
To deeds of vileſt aim. Even nature's ſelf
Is deem'd, vindictive, to have chang'd her courſe.
[29]
HENCE in old time, they ſay, a deluge came;
When the diſparting orb of earth, that arch'd
Th' impriſon'd deep around, impetuous ruſh'd,
With ruin inconceivable, at once
Into the gulph, and o'er the higheſt hills
Wide-daſh'd the waves, in undulation vaſt:
'Till, from the centre to the ſtreaming clouds,
A ſhoreleſs ocean tumbled round the globe.
THE SEASONS ſince, as hoar TRADITION tells,
Have kept their conſtant chaſe; the WINTER keen
Pour'd out his waſte of ſnows; and SUMMER ſhot
His peſtilential heats; great SPRING before
Green'd all the year; and fruits and bloſſoms bluſh'd
In ſocial ſweetneſs on the ſelf-ſame bough.
[30] Clear was the temperate air; an even calm
Perpetual reign'd, ſave what the zephyrs bland
Breath'd o'er the blue expanſe; for then nor ſtorms
Were taught to blow, nor hurricanes to rage;
Sound ſlept the waters: no ſulphureous glooms
Swell'd in the sky, and ſent the lightning forth:
While ſickly damps, and cold autumnal fogs,
Sat not pernicious on the ſprings of life.
But now, from clear to cloudy, moiſt to dry,
And hot to cold, in reſtleſs change revolv'd,
Our drooping days are dwindled down to nought,
The fleeting ſhadow of a winter's ſun.
AND yet the wholeſome herb neglected dies
In lone obſcurity, unpriz'd for food;
Altho' the pure, exhilerating ſoul
[31] Of nutriment, and health, ſalubrious breathes,
By HEAVEN infus'd, along its ſecret tubes.
For, with hot ravine fir'd, enſanguin'd man
Is now become the lion of the plain,
And worſe. The wolf, who from the nightly fold
Fierce-drags the bleating prey, ne'er drunk her milk,
Nor wore her warming fleece: nor has the ſteer,
At whoſe ſtrong cheſt the deadly tyger hangs,
E'er plow'd for him. They too are temper'd high,
With hunger ſtung, and wild neceſſity,
Nor lodges pity in their ſhaggy breaſts.
But MAN, whom NATURE form'd of milder clay,
With every kind emotion in his heart,
And taught alone to weep; while from her lap
She pours ten thouſand delicacies, herbs,
And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain,
[32] And beams that gave them birth: ſhall he, fair form!
Who wears ſweet ſmiles, and looks erect on heaven,
E'er ſtoop to mingle with the prowling herd,
And dip his tongue in blood? The beaſt of prey,
'Tis true, deſerves the fate in which he deals.
Him, from the thicket, let the hardy youth
Provoke, and foaming thro' the awakened woods
With every nerve purſue. But you, ye flocks,
What have ye done? Ye peaceful people, what,
To merit death? You, who have given us milk
In luſcious ſtreams, and lent us your own coat
Againſt the winter's cold? Whoſe uſefulneſs
In living only lies? And the plain ox,
That harmleſs, honeſt, guileleſs animal,
In what has he offended? He, whoſe toil,
Patient and ever-ready; clothes the land
[33] With all the pomp of harveſt; ſhall he bleed,
And wreſtling groan beneath the cruel hands
Even of the clowns he feeds? And that perhaps
To ſwell the riot of the gathering feaſt,
Won by his labour? Thus the feeling heart
Would tenderly ſuggeſt: but 'tis enough,
In this late age, adventurous to have touch'd,
Light on the numbers of the SAMIAN ſage.
High HEAVEN beſide forbids the daring ſtrain,
Whoſe wiſeſt will has fix'd us in a ſtate,
That muſt not yet to pure perfection riſe.
BUT yonder breathing proſpect bids the muſe
Throw all her beauty forth, that daubing all
Will be to what I gaze; for who can paint
Like NATURE? Can IMAGINATION boaſt,
[34] Amid his gay creation, hues like hers?
And can he mix them with that matchleſs skill,
And lay them on ſo delicately fine,
And loſe them in each other, as appears
In every bud that blows? If fancy then
Unequal fails beneath the lovely task;
Ah what ſhall language do? Ah where find words
Ting'd with ſo many colours? And whoſe power
To life approaching, may perfume my lays
With that fine oil, theſe aromatic gales,
Which inexhauſtive flow continual round?
YET, tho' ſucceſſleſs, will the toil delight.
Come then, ye virgins, and ye youths, whoſe hearts
Have felt the raptures of refining love;
Oh come, and while the roſy-footed MAY
[35] Steals bluſhing on, together let us walk
The morning dews, and gather in their prime
Freſh-blooming flowers, to deck the braided hair,
And the white boſom that improves their ſweets.
SEE, where the winding vale her laviſh ſtores,
Irriguous, ſpreads. See, how the lilly drinks
The latent rill, ſcarce oozing thro' the graſs
Of growth luxuriant; or the humid bank
Profuſely climbs. Turgent, in every pore
The gummy moiſture ſhines; new luſtre lends,
And feeds the ſpirit that diffuſive round
Refreſhes ail the dale. Long let us walk,
Where the breeze blows from yon extended field
Of bloſſom'd beans: ARABIA cannot boaſt
A fuller gale of joy than, liberal, thence
[36] Breathes thro' the ſenſe, and takes the raviſh'd ſoul.
Nor is the meadow worthleſs of our foot,
Full of freſh verdure, and unnumber'd flowers,
The negligence of NATURE, wide, and wild;
Where undiſguis'd by mimic ART, ſhe ſpreads
Unbounded beauty to the boundleſs eye.
'Tis here that their delicious task the bees,
In ſwarming millions, tend. Around, athwart,
This way, and that, the buſy nations fly,
Cling to the bud, and with inſerted tube,
Its ſoul, its ſweetneſs, and its manna ſuck.
The little chymiſt thus, all-moving HEAVEN
Has taught: and oft, of bolder wing, he dares
The purple heath, or where the wild-thyme grows,
And yellow loads him with the luſcious ſpoil.
[37] AT length the finiſh'd garden to the view
Its viſtas opens, and its alleys green.
Snatch'd thro' the verdant maze, the hurried eye
Diſtracted wanders; now the bowery walk
Of covert cloſe, where ſcarce a ſpeck of day
Falls on the lengthen'd gloom, protracted darts;
Now meets the bending sky, the river now
Dimpling along, the breezy-ruffled lake,
The foreſt running round, the riſing ſpire,
Th' aethereal mountain, and the diſtant main.
But why ſo far excurſive? when at hand,
Along the bluſhing borders, dewy-bright,
And in yon mingled wilderneſs of flowers,
Fair-handed SPRING unboſoms every grace;
[38] Throws out the ſnow-drop, and the crocus firſt,
The daily, primroſe, violet darkly blue,
Dew-bending cowſlips, and of nameleſs dyes
Anemonies, auriculas a tribe
Peculiar powder'd with a ſhining ſand,
Renunculas, and iris many-hued.
Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays
Her gayeſt freaks: from family diffus'd
To family, as flies the father-duſt,
The varied colours run; and while they BREAK
On the charm'd FLORIST's eye, he curious ſtands,
And new-fluſh'd glories all ecſtatic marks.
Nor hyacinths are wanting, nor junquils
Of potent fragrance, nor narciſſus white,
Nor ſtripe'd carnations, nor enamell'd pinks,
[...] [...]ower'd from every buſh the damask-roſe.
[39] Infinite numbers, delicacies, ſmells,
With hues on hues expreſſion cannot paint,
The breath of NATURE, and her endleſs bloom.
HAIL, MIGHTY BEING! UNIVERSAL SOUL
Of heaven and earth! ESSENTIAL PRESENCE, hail!
To THEE I bend the knee; to THEE my thoughts
Continual climb; who, with a maſter-hand,
Haſt the great whole into perfection touch'd.
By THEE, the various vegetative tribes,
Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves,
Draw the live aether, and imbibe the dew.
By THEE diſpos'd into congenial ſoils,
Stands each attractive plant, and ſucks, and ſwells
The juicy tide; a twining maſs of tubes.
At THY command, the vernal ſun awakes
[40] The torpid ſap, detruded to the root
By wintry winds, that now, in fluent dance,
And lively fermentation, mounting, ſpreads
All this innumerous-colour'd ſcene of things.
ASCENDING from the vegetable world
To higher life, with equal wing aſcend,
My panting Muſe; and hark, how loud the woods
Invite you forth in all your gayeſt trim.
Lend me your ſong, ye nightingales! oh pour
The mazy-running ſoul of melody
Into my varied verſe! while I deduce,
From the firſt note the hollow cuckoo ſings,
The ſymphony of SPRING, and touch a theme
Unknown to fame, THE PASSION OF THE GROVES.
[41]
JUST as the ſpirit of love is ſent abroad,
Warm thro' the vital air, and on their hearts
Harmonious ſeizes, the gay troops begin,
In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing;
And try again the long-forgotten ſtrain,
At firſt faint-warbled. But no ſooner grows
The ſoft infuſion prevalent, and wide,
Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows
In muſick unconfin'd. Up-ſprings the lark,
Shrill-voiced, and loud, the meſſenger of morn;
E'er yet the ſhadows fly, he mounted ſings
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts
Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copſe
Thick-wove, and tree irregular, and buſh
Bending with dewy moiſture, o'er the heads
[42] Of the coy quiriſters that lodge within,
Are prodigal of harmony. The thruſh
And wood-lark, o'er the kind-contending throng
Superior heard, run thro' the ſweeteſt length
Of notes; when liſtening PHILOMELA deigns
To let them joy, and purpoſes, in thought
Elate, to make her night excel their day.
The black-bird whiſtles from the thorny brake;
The mellow bull-finch anſwers from the grove:
Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze
Pour'd out profuſely, ſilent. Join'd to theſe
Thouſands beſide, thick as the covering leaves
They warble under, or the nitid hues
That ſpeck them o'er, their modulations mix
Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw,
And each harſh pipe, diſcordant heard alone,
[43] Here aid the conſort: while the ſtock-dove breathes
A melancholy murmur thro' the whole.
'TIS love creates their gaiety, and all
This waſte of muſick is the voice of love;
Which even to birds, and beaſts, the tender arts
Of pleaſing teaches. Hence the gloſſy kind
Try every winning way inventive love
Can dictate, and in fluttering courtſhip pour
Their little ſouls before her. Wide around,
Reſpectful, firſt in airy rings they rove,
Endeavouring by a thouſand tricks to catch
The cunning, conſcious, half-averted glance
Of their regardleſs charmer. Should ſhe ſeem
Softening the leaſt approvance to beſtow,
Their colours burniſh, and by hope inſpir'd
[44] They brisk advance; then on a ſudden ſtruck
Retire diſorder'd; then again approach;
And throwing out the laſt efforts of love,
In fond rotation ſpread the ſpotted wing,
And ſhiver every feather with deſire.
CONNUBIAL leagues agreed, to the deep woods
They haſte away, each as their fancy leads,
Pleaſure, or food, or ſecret ſafety prompts;
That NATURE's great command may be obey'd,
Nor all the ſweet ſenſations they perceive
Indulg'd in vain. Some to the holly-hedge
Neſtling repair, and to the thicket ſome;
Some to the rude protection of the thorn
Reſolve to truſt their young. The cleſted tree
Offers its kind concealment to a few,
[45] Their food its inſects, and its moſs their neſts.
Others apart far in the graſſy dale
Their humble texture weave. But moſt delight
In unfrequented glooms, or ſhaggy banks,
Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,
Whoſe murmurs ſooth them all the live-long day,
When for a ſeaſon fix'd. Among the roots
Of hazel, pendant o'er the plaintive ſtream,
They frame the firſt foundation of their domes,
Dry ſprigs of trees, in artful manner laid,
And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought
But hurry hurry thro' the buſy air,
Beat by unnumber'd wings. The ſwallow ſweeps
The ſlimy pool, to build his hanging houſe
Ingeniouſly intent. Oft from the back
Of herds and flocks a thouſand tugging bills
[46] Pluck hair, and wool; and oft, when unobſerv'd,
Steal from the barn the ſtraw; till ſoft, and warm,
Clean, and compleat, their habitation grows.
As thus the patient dam aſſiduous ſits,
Not to be tempted from her tender task,
Or by ſharp hunger, or by ſmooth delight,
Tho' the whole looſen'd Spring around her blows,
Her ſympathizing lover takes his ſtand
High on th'opponent bank, and ceaſeleſs ſings
The tedious time away; or elſe ſupplies
Her place a moment, while ſhe ſudden flits
To pick the ſcanty meal. Th' appointed time
With pious toil fulfill'd, the callow young
Warm'd, and expanded into perfect life,
Their brittle bondage break, and come to light,
[47] A helpleſs family, demanding food
With conſtant clamour. Oh what paſſions then,
What melting ſentiments of kindly care
Seize the new parents' hearts? Away they fly
Affectionate, and undeſiring bear
The moſt delicious morſel to their young,
Which equally diſtributed, again
The ſearch begins. So pitiful, and poor,
A gentle pair on providential HEAVEN
Caſt, as they weeping eye their clamant train,
Check their own appetites, and give them all.
NOR is the courage of the fearful kind,
Nor is their cunning leſs, ſhould ſome rude foot
Their woody haunts moleſt; ſtealthy aſide
Into the centre of a neighbouring buſh
[48] They drop, and whirring thence alarm'd, deceive
The rambling ſchool-boy. Hence around the head
Of traveller, the white-wing'd plover wheels
Her ſounding flight, and then directly on
In long excurſion skims the level lawn,
To tempt you from her neſt. The wild-duck hence
O'er the rough moſs, and o'er the trackleſs waſte
The heath-hen flutters, as if hurt, to lead
The hot purſuing ſpaniel far aſtray.
BE not the muſe aſham'd, here to bemoan
Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant man
Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage
From liberty confin'd, and boundleſs air.
Dull are the pretty ſlaves, their plumage dull,
Ragged, and all its brightning luſtre loſt;
[49] Nor is that luſcious wildneſs in their notes
That warbles from the beech. Oh then deſiſt,
Ye friends of harmony! this barbarous art
Forbear, if innocence and muſick can
Win on your hearts, or piety perſuade.
BUT let not chief the nightingale lament
Her ruin'd care, too delicately fram'd
To brook the harſh confinement of the cage.
Oft when returning with her loaded bill,
Th' aſtoniſh'd mother finds a vacant neſt,
By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns
Robb'd, to the ground the vain proviſion falls;
Her pinions ruffle, and low-drooping ſcarce
Can bear the mourner to the poplar ſhade;
Where, all abandon'd to deſpair, ſhe ſings
[50] Her ſorrows thro' the night; and, on the bough
Sad-ſitting, ſtill at every dying fall
Takes up again her lamentable ſtrain
Of winding woe, till wide around the woods
Sigh with her ſong, and with her wail reſound.
AND now the feather'd youth their former bounds
Ardent diſdain, and weighing oft their wings,
Demand the free poſſeſſion of the sky.
But this glad office more, and then diſſolves
Parental love at once; for needleſs grown,
Unlaviſh WISDOM never works in vain.
'Tis on ſome evening, ſunny, grateful, mild,
When nought but balm is breathing thro' the woods,
With yellow luſtre bright, that the new tribes
Viſit the ſpacious heavens, and look abroad
[51] On NATURE's common, far as they can ſee,
Or wing, their range, and paſture. O'er the boughs
Dancing about, ſtill at the giddy verge
Their reſolution fails; their pinions ſtill,
In looſe libration ſtretch'd, the void abrupt
Trembling refuſe: till down before them fly
The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command,
Or puſh them off. The ſurging air receives
The plumy burden; and their ſelf-taught wings
Winnow the waving element. On ground
Alighted, bolder up again they lead
Farther and farther on the lengthning flight;
Till vaniſh'd every fear, and every power
Rouz'd into life, and action in the void
Th' exoner'd parents ſee their ſoaring race,
And once rejoicing never know them more.
[52]
HIGH from the ſummit of a craggy cliff,
Hung o'er the green ſea, grudging at its baſe,
The royal eagle draws his young, reſolv'd
To try them at the ſun. Strong-pounc'd, and bright
As burniſh'd day, they up the blue sky wind,
Leaving dull ſight below, and with fix'd gaze
Drink in their native noon: the father-king
Claps his glad pinions, and approves the birth.
AND ſhould I wander to the rural fear,
Whoſe aged oaks, and venerable gloom,
Invite the noiſy rook; with pleaſure there,
I might the various polity ſurvey
Of the mixt houſhold kind. The careful hen
Calls all her chirping family around,
[53] Fed, and defended by the fearleſs cock,
Whoſe breaſt with ardour flames, as on he walks
Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond,
The finely-checker'd duck, before her train,
Rows garrulous. The ſtately-ſailing ſwan
Gives out his ſnowy plumage to the gale,
And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet
Bears forward fierce, and beats you from the bank,
Protective of his young. The turkey nigh,
Loud-threatning, reddens; while the peacock ſpreads
His every-colour'd glory to the ſun,
And ſwims in floating majeſty along.
O'er the whole homely ſcene, the cooing dove
Flies thick in amorous chace, and wanton rolls
The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck.
[54]
WHILE thus the gentle tenants of the ſhade
Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world
Of brutes below, ruſh furious into flame,
And fierce deſire. Thro' all his luſty veins
The bull, deep-ſcorch'd, receives the raging fire.
Of paſture ſick, and negligent of food,
Scarce ſeen, he wades among the yellow broom,
While o'er his brawny back the rambling ſprays
Luxuriant ſhoot; or thro' the mazy wood
Dejected wanders, nor th' inticing bud
Crops, tho' it preſſes on his careleſs ſenſe:
For, wrapt in mad imagination, he
Roars for the fight, and idly butting, feigns
A rival gor'd in every knotty trunk.
Such ſhould he meet, the bellowing war begins;
[55] Their eyes flaſh fury; to the hollow'd earth,
Whence the ſand flies, they mutter bloody deeds,
And groaning vaſt th' impetuous battle mix:
While the fair heifer, redolent, in view
Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling ſteed,
With this hot impulſe ſeiz'd in every nerve,
Nor hears the rein, nor heeds the ſounding whip;
Blows are not felt; but toſſing high his head,
And by the well-known joy, to diſtant plains
Attracted ſtrong, all wild, he burſts away;
O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies,
And neighing, on the aerial ſummit takes
Th' informing gale; then ſteep-deſcending, cleaves
The headlong torrents foaming down the hills,
Even where the madneſs of the ſtraiten'd ſtreams
[56] Turns in black eddies round: Such is the force
With which his frantick heart, and ſinews ſwell.
NOR, undelighted by the boundleſs SPRING,
Are the broad monſters of the boiling deep:
From the deep ooze, and gelid cavern rous'd,
They flounce, and tumble in unwieldy joy.
Dire were the ſtrain, and diſſonant, to ſing
The cruel raptures of the ſavage kind:
How the red lioneſs, her whelps forgot
Amid the thoughtleſs fury of her heart;
The lank rapacious wolf; th' unſhapely bear;
The ſpotted tyger, felleſt of the fell;
And all the terrors of the LIBYAN ſwain,
By this new flame their native wrath ſublim'd,
Roam the reſounding waſte in fiercer bands,
[57] And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme
I ſing, tranſported, to the BRITISH fair,
Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow,
Where ſits the ſhepherd on the graſſy turf,
Inhaling, healthful, the deſcending ſun.
Around him feeds his many-bleating flock
Of various cadence; and his ſportive lambs,
This way, and that, convolv'd in friskful glee,
Their little frolicks play. And now the race
Invites them forth; when ſwift the ſignal given,
They ſtart away, and ſweep the maſſy mound
That runs around the hill; the rampart once
Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times,
When diſunited BRITAIN ever bled,
Loſt in eternal broil; e'er yet ſhe grew
To this deep-laid, indiſſoluble ſtate,
[58] Where WEALTH and COMMERCE lift their golden head,
And o'er our Labours, LIBERTY and LAW
Illuſtrious watch, the wonder of a world!
WHAT is this MIGHTY BREATH, ye curious ſay,
Which, in a language rather felt than heard,
Inſtructs the fowls of heaven; and thro' their breaſts
Theſe arts of love diffuſes? What, but GOD?
Inſpiring GOD! who boundleſs ſpirit all,
And unremitted energy pervades,
Adjuſts, ſuſtains, and agitates the whole.
He ceaſeleſs works alone, and yet alone
Seems not to work, with ſuch perfection fram'd
Is this complex, amazing ſcheme of things.
But tho' conceal'd, to every purer eye
[59] Th' informing author in his work appears;
His grandeur in the heavens: the ſun, and moon,
Whether that fires the day, or falling, this
Pours out a lucid ſoftneſs o'er the night,
Are but a beam from him. The glittering ſtars,
By the deep ear of meditation heard,
Still in their midnight watches ſing of him.
He nods a calm. The tempeſt blows his wrath,
Roots up the foreſt and o'erturns the main.
The thunder is his voice; and the red flaſh
His ſpeedy ſword of juſtice. At his touch
The mountains flame. He takes the ſolid earth,
And rocks the nations. Nor in theſe alone,
In every common inſtance GOD is ſeen;
And to the man who caſts his mental eye
Abroad unnotic'd wonders riſe. But chief
[60] In thee, boon SPRING, and in thy ſofter ſcenes,
The SMILING GOD appears; while water, earth,
And air atteſt his bounty, which inſtils
Into the brutes this temporary thought,
And annual melts their undeſigning hearts
Profuſely thus in tenderneſs, and joy.
STILL let my ſong a nobler note aſſume,
And ſing th' infuſive force of SPRING on man;
When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie
To raiſe his being, and ſerene his ſoul,
Can he forbear to ſmile with NATURE? Can
The ſtormy paſſions in his boſom rowl,
While every gale is peace, and every grove
Is melody? Hence, from the bounteous walks
Of flowing SPRING, ye ſordid ſons of earth,
[61] Hard, and unfeeling, of another's woe,
Or only laviſh to yourſelves; away.
But come, ye generous breaſts, in whoſe wide thought,
Of all his works, CREATIVE BOUNTY, moſt,
Divinely burns; and on your open front,
And liberal eye, ſits, from his dark retreat
Inviting modeſt want. Nor only fair,
And eaſy of approach; your active ſearch
Leaves no cold wintry corner unexplor'd,
Like ſilent-working HEAVEN, ſurprizing oft
The lonely heart with unexpected good.
For you the roving ſpirit of the wind
Blows SPRING abroad; for you the teaming clouds
Deſcend in buxom plenty o'er the world;
And the ſun ſpreads his genial blaze for you,
Ye flower of human race! In theſe green days,
[62] Sad-pining ſickneſs lifts her languid head;
Life flows afreſh; and young-ey'd health exalts
The whole creation round. Contentment walks
The ſunny glade, and feels an inward bliſs
Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings
To purchaſe. Pure ſerenity apace
Induces thought, and contemplation ſtill.
By ſmall degrees the love of nature works,
And warms the boſom; till at laſt arriv'd
To rapture, and enthuſiaſtic heat,
We feel the preſent DEITY, and taſte
The joy of GOD, to ſee a happy world.
'TIS HARMONY, that world-attuning power,
By which all beings are adjuſted, each
To all around, impelling, and impell'd,
[63] In endleſs circulation, that inſpires
This univerſal ſmile. Thus the glad skies,
The wide rejoycing earth, the woods, the ſtreams,
With every LIFE they hold, down to the flower
That paints the lowly vale, or inſect-wing
Wav'd o'er the ſhepherd's ſlumber, touch the mind
To nature tun'd, with a light-flying hand,
Inviſible; quick-urging, thro' the nerves,
The glittering ſpirits in a flood of day.
HENCE from the virgin's check, a freſher bloom
Shoots, leſs and leſs, the live carnation round;
Her lips bluſh deeper ſweets; ſhe breathes of youth;
The ſhining moiſture ſwells into her eyes,
In brighter flow; her wiſhing boſom heaves
With palpitations wild; kind tumults ſeize
[64] Her veins, and all her yielding ſoul is love.
From the keen gaze her lover turns away,
Full of the dear ecſtatic power, and ſick
With ſighing languiſhment. Ah then, ye fair!
Be greatly cautious of your ſliding hearts;
Dare not th' infectious ſigh; the pleading eye,
In meek ſubmiſſion dreſt, deject, and low,
But full of tempting guile. Let not the tongue,
Prompt to deceive, with adulation ſmooth,
Gain on your purpos'd wills. Nor in the bower,
Where woodbines flaunt, and roſes ſhed a couch,
While evening draws her crimſon curtains round,
Truſt your ſoft minutes with betraying man.
AND let th' aſpiring youth beware of love,
Of the ſmooth glance beware; for 'tis too late,
[65] When on his heart the torrent ſoftneſs pours.
Then wiſdom proſtrate lies; and fading fame
Diſſolves in air away: while the fond ſoul
Is wrapt in dreams of ecſtacy, and bliſs;
Still paints th' illuſive form; the kindling grace;
Th' inticing ſmile; the modeſt-ſeeming eye,
Beneath whoſe beauteous beams, belying heaven,
Lurk ſearchleſs cunning, cruelty, and death:
And ſtill, falſe-warbling in his cheated ear,
Her ſyren voice, enchanting, draws him on,
To guileful ſhores, and meads of fatal joy.
EVEN preſent in the very lap of love
Inglorious laid; while muſick flows around,
Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours,
Amid the roſes fierce Repentance rears
[66] Her ſnaky creſt: a quick returning twinge
Shoots thro' the conſcious heart; where honour ſtill,
And great deſign againſt th' oppreſſive load
Of luxury, by fits, impatient heave.
BUT abſent, what fantaſtick pangs arrous'd,
Rage in each thought, by reſtleſs muſing fed,
Chill the warm cheek, and blaſt the bloom of life?
Neglected fortune flies; and ſliding ſwift,
Prone into ruin, fall his ſcorn'd affairs.
'Tis nought but gloom around. The darken'd ſun
Loſes his light. The roſy-boſom'd SPRING
To weeping fancy pines; and yon bright arch
Of heaven, low-bends into a dusky vault.
All nature fades extinct; and ſhe alone
Heard, felt, and ſeen, poſſeſſes every thought,
[67] Fills every ſenſe, and pants in every vein.
Books are but formal dulneſs, tedious Friends,
And ſad amid the ſocial band he ſits,
Lonely and inattentive. From the tongue
Th' unfiniſh'd period falls: while, borne away
On ſwelling thought, his wafted ſpirit flies
To the vain boſom of his diſtant fair;
And leaves the ſemblance of a lover, fix'd
In melancholy ſite, with head declin'd,
And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he ſtarts,
Shook from his tender trance, and reſtleſs runs
To glimmering ſhades, and ſympathetick glooms,
Where the dun umbrage o'er the falling ſtream
Romantic hangs; there thro' the penſive dusk
Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation loſt,
Indulging all to love: or on the bank
[68] Thrown, amid drooping lillies, ſwells the breeze
With ſighs unceaſing, and the brook with tears.
Thus in ſoft anguiſh he conſumes the day,
Nor quits his deep retirement, till the moon
Peeps thro' the chambers of the fleecy eaſt,
Enlighten'd by degrees, and in her train
Leads on the gentle hours; then forth he walks,
Beneath the trembling languiſh of her beams,
With ſoften'd ſoul, and wooes the bird of eve
To mingle woes with his: or while the world,
And all the ſons of care, lie huſh'd in ſleep,
Aſſociates with the midnight ſhadows drear;
And, ſighing to the lonely taper, pours
His idly-tortur'd heart into the page,
Meant for the moving meſſenger of love;
Where rapture burns on rapture, every line
[69] With riſing frenzy fir'd. But if on bed
Delirious flung, ſleep from his pillow flies.
All night he toſſes, nor the balmy power
In any poſture finds; till the grey morn
Lifts her pale luſtre on the paler wretch,
Exanimate by love: and then perhaps
Exhauſted nature ſinks a while to reſt,
Still interrupted by diſtracted dreams,
That o'er the ſick imagination riſe,
And in black colours paint the mimick ſcene.
Oft with th' enchantreſs of his ſoul he talks;
Sometimes in crouds diſtreſs'd; or if retir'd
To ſecret-winding, flower-enwoven bowers,
Far from the dull impertinence of man,
Juſt as he, credulous, his thouſand cares
Begins to loſe in blind oblivious love,
[70] Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how,
Thro' foreſts huge, and long untravel'd heaths
With deſolation brown, he wanders waſte,
In night and tempeſt wrapt; or ſhrinks aghaſt,
Back, from the bending precipice; or wades
The turbid ſtream below, and ſtrives to reach
The farther ſhore; where ſuccourleſs, and ſad,
Wild as a Bacchanal ſhe ſpreads her arms,
But ſtrives in vain, borne by th' outragious flood
To diſtance down, he rides the ridgy wave,
Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy ſinks.
Then a weak, wailing lamentable cry
Is heard, and all in tears he wakes, again
To tread the circle of revolving woe.
Theſe are the charming agonies of love,
Whoſe miſery delights. But thro' the heart
[71] Should jealouſy its venom once diffuſe,
'Tis then delightful miſery no more,
But agony unmix'd, inceſſant rage,
Corroding every thought, and blaſting all
Love's paradiſe. Ye fairy proſpects then
Ye beds of roſes, and ye bowers of joy,
Farewell! Ye gleamings of departing peace,
Shine out your laſt! the yellow tinging plague
Internal viſion taints, and in a night
Of livid gloom imagination wraps.
Ay then inſtead of love-enliven'd cheeks,
Of funny features, and of ardent eyes
With flowing raptures bright, dark looks ſucceed,
Suffus'd, and glaring with untender fire,
A clouded aſpect, and a burning cheek,
[72] Where the whole poiſon'd ſoul, malignant, ſits,
And frightens love away. Ten thouſand fears
Invented wild, ten thouſand frantick views
Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms
For which he melts in fondneſs, eat him up
With fervent anguiſh, and conſuming pine.
In vain reproaches lend their idle aid,
Deceitful pride, and reſolution frail,
Giving a moment's eaſe. Reflection pours,
Afreſh, her beauties on his buſy thought,
Her firſt endearments, twining round the ſoul,
With all the witchcraft of enſnaring love.
Strait the fierce ſtorm involves his mind anew,
Flames thro' the nerves, and boils along the veins;
While anxious doubt diſtracts the tortur'd heart;
[73] For even the ſad aſſurance of his fears
Were peace to what he feels. Thus the warm youth,
Whom love deludes into his thorny wilds,
Thro' flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life
Of feaver'd rapture, or of cruel care;
His brighteſt aims extinguiſh'd all, and all
His lively moments running down to waſte.
BUT happy they! the happieſt of their kind!
Whom gentler ſtars unite, and in one fate
Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend.
'Tis not the coarſer tie of human laws,
Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind,
That binds their peace, but harmony itſelf,
[74] Attuning all their paſſions into love;
Where friendſhip full-exerts his ſofteſt power,
Perfect eſteem enliven'd by deſire
Ineffable, and ſympathy of ſoul,
Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will,
With boundleſs confidence; for nought but love
Can anſwer love, and render bliſs ſecure.
Let him, ungenerous, who, alone intent
To bleſs himſelf, from ſordid parents buys
The loathing virgin, in eternal care,
Well-merited, conſume his nights and days:
Let barbarous nations, whoſe inhuman love
Is wild deſire, fierce as the ſuns they feel;
Let eaſtern tyrants from the light of heaven
Seclude their boſom-ſlaves, meanly poſſeſs'd
[75] Of a meer, lifeleſs, violated form:
While thoſe whom love cements, in holy faith,
And equal tranſport, free as nature, live,
Diſdaining fear; for what's the world to them,
Its pomp, its pleaſure, and its nonſenſe all!
Who in each other claſp whatever fair
High fancy forms, and laviſh hearts can wiſh,
Something than beauty dearer, ſhould they look
Or on the mind, or mind-illumin'd face,
Truth, goodneſs, honour, harmony, and love,
The richeſt bounty of indulgent HEAVEN.
Mean-time a ſmiling Offspring riſes round,
And mingles both their graces. By degrees,
The human bloſſom blows; and every day,
Soft as it rolls along, ſhews ſome new charm,
[76] The father's luſtre, and the mother's bloom.
Then infant reaſon grows apace, and calls
For the kind hand of an aſſiduous care:
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to ſhoot,
To pour the freſh inſtruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' inſpiring ſpirit, and to plant
The generous purpoſe in the glowing breaſt.
Oh ſpeak the joy! you whom the ſudden tear
Surprizes often, while you look around,
And nothing ſtrikes your eye but ſights of bliſs,
All various nature preſſing on the heart,
Obedient fortune, and approving HEAVEN.
Theſe are the bleſſings of diviner love;
And thus their moments fly. The ſeaſons thus,
[77] As ceaſeleleſs round a jarring world they roll,
Still find them happy; and conſenting SPRING
Sheds her own roſy garland on their head:
Till evening comes at laſt, cool, gentle, calm;
When after the long vernal day of life,
Enamour'd more, as ſoul approaches ſoul,
Together, down they ſink in ſocial ſleep.
FINIS.