The seasons. In four books. : With Britannia. / By James Thomson. ; To which are added the following pieces, I. Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, by Mr. Pope. II. Alexander's Feast, or The power of musick, by Mr. Dryden. III. Ode on solitude, by Mr. Pope. IV. The dying Christian to his soul, an ode, by the same. V. The universal prayer, by the same. VI. Elegy, to the memory of an unfortunate lady, by the same. VII. Veni creator spiritus, translated in paraphrase, by Mr. Dryden. ; To which is prefixed, the life and literary character of Mr. Thomson. ; Illustrated with a new set of designs.

SPRING.

The ARGUMENT.

The subject proposed. Inscribed to the Countess of HART|FORD. The Season is described as it affects the va|rious parts of Nature, ascending from the lower to the higher; with digressions arising from the subject. Its influence on inanimate Matter, on Vegetables, on brute Animals, and last on Man; concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular passion of Love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind.

SPRING.

COME, gentle SPRING, ethereal Mildness, come, And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud. While musick wakes around, veil'd in a shower Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.

O HARTFORD, fitted, or to shine in courts [ 5] With unaffected grace, or walk the plain With innocence and meditation join'd In soft assemblage, listen to my song, Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all Is blooming, and benevolent, like thee. [ 10]

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, [ 15] 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 [ 20] Deform the day delightless: so that scarce The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulpht, To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore

The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath, And sing their wild notes to the listening waste. [ 25]

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, [ 30] 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 Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers [ 35] Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us'd plough 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 so••g and soaring lark. [ 40] 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 [ 45] 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 part. Ye fostering breezes, blow! Ye sof••ening dews, ye te••der showers, descend! [ 50] And temper all, thou world-reviving sun, Into the perfect year! Not ye who live In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride,

Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear: Such themes as these the rural MARO sung [ 55] To wide-imperial ROME, in the full height Of elegance and taste, by GREECE refin'd. In antient times, the sacred plough employ'd The kings, and awful fathers of mankind: And some, with whom compar'd, your insect tribes [ 60] Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the scale of empire, rul'd the storm Of mighty war; then, with * 1.1 victorious hand, Disdaining little delicacies, seiz'd The plough, and greatly independent † 1.2 scorn'd [ 65] ‡ 1.3 All the vile stores corruption can bestow.

YE generous BRITONS, venerate the plough! And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales, Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun, Luxuriant, and unbounded: as the sea, [ 70] Far thro' his azure turbulent domain, 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 [ 75] O'er every land, the naked nations cloathe, And be th' exhaustless granary of a world!

NOR only thro' the lenient air this change, Delicious, breathes; the penetrative sun, His force deep-darting to the dark retreat [ 80] Of vegetation, sets the steaming Power At large, to wander o'er the vernant Earth, In various hues; but chiefly thee, gay Green! Thou smiling Nature's universal robe!

United light and shade! where the sight dwells [ 85] With growing strength, and ever-new delight.

FROM the moist meadow to the wither'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 [ 90] Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, Till the whole leafy forest stands display'd, In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales; Where the deer rustle thro' the twining brake, And the birds sing conceal'd. At once, array'd [ 95] 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, [ 100] Within its crimson solds. Now from the town Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops From the bent bush, as thro' the verdant maze [ 105] Of sweet-bria•• 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 [ 110] Of mingled blossoms; where the raptur'd eye Hurries from joy to joy, and, hid beneath The fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies.

I••, brush'd from Russian wilds, a cutting gale Rise not, and scatter from his humid wings [ 115] The clammy mildew; or, dry-blowing, breathe

Untimely frost; before whose baleful blast, The full-blown Spring thro' all her foliage shrinks, Joyless, and dead, a wide-dejected waste. For oft, engender'd by the hazy north, [ 120] Myriads on myriads, insect-armies waft Keen in the poison'd breeze; and wasteful eat, Thro' buds and bark, into the blackened core, Their eager way. A feeble race! yet oft The sacred sons of vengeance! on whose course [ 125] Corrosive famine waits, and kills the year. To check this plague 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: [ 130] Or scatters o'er the blooms the pungent dust Of pepper, fatal to the frosty tribe: Or, when th' envenom'd leaf begins to curl, With sprinkled water drowns them in their nest: Nor, while they pick them up with ••usy bill, [ 135] The little trooping birds unwisely scares.

BE patient, swains; these cruel-seeming winds Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep, rep••ess'd, Those deepening clouds on clou••s, surcharg'd with rain, That o'er the vast Atlantic hither ••orne, [ 140] In endless train, would quench the summer-blaze, And, chearless, drown the crude unripen'd year.

THE north-east spends his rage, * 1.4 and now, shut up Within his iron † 1.5 caves, th' effusive ••outh Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven [ 145] Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers distent.

At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise, Scarce staining ether; but by * 1.6 fast degrees, In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour sails Along the loaded sky, and mingling deep [ 150] Sits on the horison 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, [ 155] Into a perfect calm; that not a breath Is heard to quiver thro' the closing woods, Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves Of aspin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus'd In glassy breadth, seem'd thro' delusive lapse [ 160] 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 suspence, The plumy people streak their wings with oil, [ 165] To throw the lucid moisture trickling off; And wait th' approaching sign to strike, at once, Into the general choir. Even mountains, vales, And forests seem, impatient, to demand The promis'd sweetness. Man superior walks [ 170] 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 dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, [ 175] In large effusion o'er the freshen'd world. The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard, By such as wander thro' the forest-walks, Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.

••ut who can hold the shade, while Heaven descends [ 180] In universal bounty, shedding herbs, And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap? Swift fancy fir'd anticipates their growth; And, while the milky nutriment distills, Beholds the kindling country colour round. [ 185]

THUS all day long the full-distended clouds Indulge their genial stores, and well-showered earth Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life; 'Till, in the western sky, the downward sun Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush [ 190] 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, [ 195] In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around. Full swell the woods; their every music wakes, Mix'd in wild concert with the warbling brooks Increas'd, the distant bleatings of the hills, [ 200] * 1.7 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 ethereal bow Shoots up immense; and every hue unfolds, [ 205] In fair proportion running from the red, To where the violet fades into the sky. Here, awful NEWTON, the dissolving clouds Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery prism; And to the † 1.8 well-instructed eye unfold [ 210] The various twine of light, by thee disclos'd

From the white mingling maze. Not so the * 1.9 swain; He wondering views the bright enchantment bend, Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs To catch the falling glory; but amaz'd [ 215] 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 to light▪ Rais'd thro' ten thousand different plastic tubes, [ 220] The balmy treasures of the former day.

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, [ 225] 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 [ 230] 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 [ 235] Of health, and life▪ and joy? the food of Man, 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, [ 240] The lord, and not the tyrant of the world.

THE first fresh dawn then wak'd the gladden'd race Of ••ncorrupted Man, nor blush'd to see The sluggard sleep beneath its sacred beam. For their light slumbers gently fum'd away; [ 245] 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. Meantime the song went round; and dance and sport, Wisdom and friendly talk, successive, stole [ 250] Their hours away. While in the rosy vale Love breath'd his infant sighs, from anguish free, And full replete with bliss; save the sweet pain, That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more. Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed, [ 255] Was known among these happy sons of HEAVEN; For reason and benevolence were law. Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on, Clear shone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales, And balmy spirit all. The youthful sun [ 260] Shot his best rays, and still the gracious clouds Drop'd satness down; as, o'er the swelling mead, The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure. This when, emergent from the gloomy wood, The glaring lion saw, his horrid heart [ 265] Was meeken'd, and he join'd his sullen joy. For music held the whole in perfect peace: Soft sigh'd the flute; the tender voice was heard, Warbling the vary'd heart; the woodlands round Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flow'd [ 270] In consonance. Such were those prime of days.

BUT now those white unblemish'd * 1.10 minutes, whence The fabling poets took their golden age, Are found no more amid these iron times, These dregs of life! Now the distemper'd mind [ 275] Has lost that concord of harmonious powers, Which forms 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 [ 280] The foul disorder. Senseless, and deform'd, Convulsive anger storms at large; or pale, And silent, settles into fell revenge. Base envy withers at another's joy, And hates that excellence it cannot reach. [ 285] Desponding fear, of feeble fancies sull, Weak, and unmanly, loosens every power. Even love itself is bitterness of soul, A pensive anguish pining at the heart: Or, sunk to sordid interest, feels no more [ 290] That noble wish, that never-cloy'd desire, Which, selfish joy disdaining, seeks, alone, To bless the dearer object of its flame. Hope sickens with extravagance; and grief, Of life impatient, into madness swells; [ 295] 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,† 1.11 inly rankling, grows [ 300] The partial thought, a listless unconcern, Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good;

Then dark disgust, and hatred, winding wiles, Coward deceit, and ruffian violence. At last, extinct each social feeling, fell [ 305] And joyless inhumanity pervades, And petrifies the heart. Nature disturb'd Is deem'd, vindictive, to have chang'd her course.

HENCE, in old dusky time, a deluge came: When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arch'd [ 310] The central waters round, impetuous rush'd, With universal burst, into the gulph, And o'er the high-pil'd hills of fractur'd earth Wide-dash'd the waves, in undulation vast; Till, from the center to the streaming clouds, [ 315] A shoreless ocean tumbled round the globe.

THE Seasons since have, with severer sway, Oppress'd a broken world: the Winter keen Shook forth his waste of snows; and Summer shot His pestilential heats. Great Spring, before, [ 320] Green'd all the year; and fruits and blossoms blush'd, In social sweetness, on the self-same bough. Pure 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 [ 325] 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, Hung not, relaxing, on the springs of life. [ 330] But now, of turbid elements the sport, From clear to cloudy tost, from hot to cold, And dry to moist, with inward-eating change,

Our drooping days are dwindled down to nought, Their period finish'd ere 'tis well begun. [ 335]

AND yet the wholesome herb neglected dies; Tho' with a pure exhilarating soul Of nutriment and health, and vital powers, Beyond the search of art, 'tis copious blest. For, with hot ravine fir'd, ensanguin'd Man [ 340] 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, [ 345] E'er plough'd for him. They too are temper'd high, With hunger stung, and wild necessity, Nor lodges pity in their shaggy breast. But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay, With every kind emotion in his heart, [ 350] And taught alone to wee; while from her lap She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs, And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain, Or beams that gave them birth: shall he, fair form! Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on heaven, [ 355] E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, And dip his tongue in gore? the beast of prey, Blood-stain'd, deserves to bleed: but you, ye flocks, What have you done; ye peaceful people, what, To merit death? you, who have given us milk [ 360] In luscious streams, and lent us your own coat Against the Winter's cold? and the plain ox, That harmless, honest, guileless animal, In what has he offended? he, whose toil, Patient and ever-ready, cloathes the land [ 365] With all the pomp of harvest; shall he bleed,

And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands Even of the clown he feeds? and that, perhaps, To swell the riot of th' autumnal feast, Won by his labour? thus the feeling heart [ 370] Would tenderly suggest: but 'tis enough, In this late age, adventurous, to have touch'd Light on the numbers of the Samian sage. * 1.12 HEAVEN too forbids the bold presumptuous strain, Whose wisest will has fix'd us in a state [ 375] That must not yet to pure perfection rise.

Now when the first foul torrent of the brooks, Swell'd † 1.13 by the vernal rains, is ebb'd away; And, whitening, down their mossy-tinctur'd stream Descends the billowy foam: now is the time, [ 380] While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly, The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring, Snatch'd from the hoary steed the floating line, And all thy slender watry stores prepare, [ 385] But let not on thy hook the tortur'd worm, Convulsive, twist in agonizing folds; Which by rapacious hunger swallow'd deep, Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breast Of the weak helpless uncomplaining wretch, [ 390] Harsh pain and horror to the tender hand.

WHEN, with his lively ray, the potent sun Has pierc'd the streams, and rous'd the finny race, Then, issuing chearful, to thy sport repair; Chief should the western breezes curling play, [ 395] And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds.

High to their fount, this day, amid the hills, And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks; The next, pursue their rocky-channel'd maze, Down to the river, in whose ample wave [ 400] Their little Naiads love to sport at large. Just in the dubious point, where with the pool Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils Around the stone, or from the hollow'd bank, Reverted, plays in undulating flow, [ 405] There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly; And, as you lead it round in artful curve, With eye attentive mark the springing game. Strait as above the surface of the flood They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger leap, [ 410] Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook; Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, With various hand proportion'd to their force. If yet too young, and easily deceiv'd, [ 415] A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod, Him, piteous of his youth, and the short space He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heaven, Soft disengage, and back into the stream The speckled * 1.14 infant throw. But should you lure [ 420] From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook, Behoves you then to ply your finest art. Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly; And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft [ 425] The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death,

With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line; [ 430] Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed, The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode; And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool, Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, That feels him still, yet to his furious course [ 435] Gives way, you, now retiring, following now Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage; Till floating broad upon his breathless side, And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore You gayly drag your unresisting prize. [ 440]

THUS pass the temperate hours: but when the sun Shakes from his noon-day throne the scattering clouds, Even shooting listless languor thro' the deeps; Then seek the bank where flowering elders croud, Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale [ 445] Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang The dewy head, where purple violets lurk, With all the lowly children of the shade: Or lie reclin'd beneath yon spreading ash, Hung o'er the steep; whence, borne on liquid wing, The sounding culver shoots; or where the hawk, [ 451] High, in the beetling cliff, his airy builds. There let the classic page thy fancy lead Thro' rural scenes; such as the Mantuan swain Paints in * 1.15 unequal harmony of song. [ 455] Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift Athwart imagination's vivid eye: Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd, And lost in lonely musing, in a dream,

Confus'd, of careless solitude, where mix [ 460] Ten thousand wandering images of things, Soothe every gust of passion into peace, All but the swellings of the soften'd heart, That waken, not disturb the tranquil mind.

BEHOLD yon breathing prospect bids the Muse [ 465] Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint Like Nature? can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like her's? Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, And lose them in each other, as appears [ 470] In every bud that blows? if fancy then Unequal fails beneath the pleasing 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 [ 475] With that fine oil, those aromatic gales, That 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; [ 480] And thou, AMANDA, come, pride of my song! Form'd by the graces, loveliness itself! Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul; Where, with the light of thoughtful reason, mix'd, [ 485] Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart: Oh come! and while the rosy-footed May Steals blushing on, together let us tread The morning dews, and gather in their prime Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair, [ 490] And thy lov'd bosom that improves their sweets.

SEE, where the winding vale its lavish stores, I••riguous, spreads. See, how the lily drinks The latent rill, scarce oozing thro' the grass, Of growth luxuriant; or the humid bank, [ 495] In fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, Where the breeze blows from you extended field Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast A fuller gale of joy than, liberal, thence Breathes thro' the sense, and takes the ravish'd soul. [ 500] Nor is the mend unworthy of thy 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 roving eye. [ 505] Here their delicious task the fervent bees, In swarming millions, tend. Around, athwart, Thro' the soft air, the busy nations fly, Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube, Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul: [ 510] And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare The purple heath, or where the wild-thyme grows And yellow load them with the luscious spoil.

AT length the finish'd garden to the view Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. [ 515] 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 sweeps; Now meets the bending sky, the rive•• now [ 520] Dimpling along, the breezy-ruffled lake, The forest darkening round, the glittering spire, Th' ethereal mountain, and the distant main.

But why so far excursive? when at hand, Along these blushing borders, bright with dew, [ 525] And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace: Throws out the snow-drop, and the crocus first; The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, And polyanthus of unnumber'd dyes; [ 530] The yellow wall-flower, stain'd with iron brown; And lavish stock that scents the garden round. From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed, Anemonies; auriculas, enrich'd With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves; [ 535] And full ranun••ulas of glowing red. Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays Her idle freaks▪ from family diffus'd To family, as flies the father-dust, The varied colours run; and while they break [ 540] On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist ma••ks, With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. No gradual bloom is wanting; from the bud, First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes: * 1.16 Nor hyacinths, deep-purpled; nor jonquils, [ 545] Of potent fragrance; nor narcissus fair, As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still; Nor broad carnations; nor gay-spotted pinks; Nor, shower'd from every bush, the damask-rose. Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, [ 550] With hues on hues expression cannot paint, The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom.

Hail, SOURCE of 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, [ 556] 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 ether, and imbibe the dew. [ 560] 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 The torpid sap, detruded to the root [ 565] By wintry winds, that now in fluent dance, And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads All this innumerous-colour'd scene of things.

As rising from the vegetable world My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend, [ 570] 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, [ 575] From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme Unknown to fame, the Passion of the groves.

WHEN first the soul of love is sent abroad, Warm through the vital air, and on th••••heart [ 580] 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, [ 585] Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows

In music unconfin'd. Up-springs the lark, Shrill-voiced, and loud, the messenger of morn; Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts [ 590] Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse * 1.17 Thick wove, and tree irregular, and bush, Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads Of the coy quiristers that lodge within, Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush [ 595] 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. [ 600] The black-bird whistles from the thorny brake; The mellow bullfinch answers from the grove: Nor are the ••innets, o'er the flowering furze Pour'd out profusely, silent. Join'd to these Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade [ 605] Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw, And each harsh pipe discordant heard alone, Aid the full concert: while the stock-dove breathes A melancholy murmur thro' the whole. [ 610]

'TIS love creates their melody, and all This waste of music is the voice of love; That even to birds, and beasts, the tender arts Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind Try every winning way inventive love [ 615] Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates Pour forth their little souls. First, wide around,

With distant awe, in airy rings they rove, Endeavouring by a thousand tricks to catch The cunning, conscious, half-averted glance [ 620] Of their regardless charmer. Should she seem Softening the least approvance to bestow, Their colours burnish▪ and by hope inspir'd, They brisk advance; then, on a sudden struck, Retire disorder'd; then again approach; [ 625] In fond rotation spread the spotted wing, And shiver every feather with desire.

CONNUBIAL leagues agreed, to the deep woods They haste away, all as their fancy leads, Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts; [ 630] 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 [ 635] Commit their feeble offspring. The cleft tree Offers its kind concealment to a few, Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. Others apart far in the grassy dale, Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. [ 640] But most in woodland solitudes delight, In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks, Steep, and divided by a habbling brook, Whose murmurs soothe them all the live long day, When * 1.18 for a season fix'd. Among the roots [ 645] Of hazel, pendant o'er the plaintive stream, They frame the first foundation of their domes; Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabrick laid,

And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought But restless hurry thro' the busy air, [ 650] Beat by unnumber'd wings. The swallow sweeps The slimy pool, to build his hanging house Intent. And often, from the careless back Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserv'd, [ 655] Steal from the barn a 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, [ 660] 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 [ 665] 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, A helpless family, demanding food [ 670] With constant clamour. O what passions then, What melting sentiments of kindly care, On the new parents seize! Away they fly Affectionate, and undesiring bear The most delicious morsel to their young; [ 675] Which equally distributed, again The search begins. Even so a gentle pair, By fortune sunk, but form'd of generous mold, And * 1.19 pierc'd with cares beyond the vulgar breast,

In some lone cott amid the distant woods, [ 680] Sustain'd alone by providential HEAVEN, Oft, as they weeping eye their infant train, Check their own appetites and give them all.

NOR * 1.20 pain alone they scorn: exalting love By the great FATHER OF THE SPRING inspir'd, [ 685] Gives instant courage to the fearful race, And to the simple art. With stealthy wing, Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest, Amid a neighbouring bush they silent drop, And whirring thence, as if alarm'd, deceive [ 690] Th' unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head Of wandering swain, the white-wing'd plover wheels Her sounding flight, and then directly on In long excursion skims the level lawn, To tempt him from her nest. The wild-duck, hence, O'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless waste [ 696] The heath-hen flutters, (pious fraud!) 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 [ 700] 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 brightening lustre lost; Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes, [ 705] Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech. Oh then, ye friends of love and love-taught song, Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear! If on your bosom innocence can win, Music engage, or piety persuade. [ 710]

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, [ 715] 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 [ 720] Her sorrows thro' the night; and, on the bough Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall Takes up again her lamentable strain Of winding woe, till, wide around, the woods Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound. [ 725]

BUT now the feather'd youth their former bounds, Ardent, disdain; and, weighing oft their wings, Demand the free possession of the sky. This one glad office more, and then dissolves Parental love at once, now needless grown. [ 730] 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 [ 735] 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, to trust the void [ 740] 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 [ 745] Alighted, bolder up again they lead, Farther and farther on, the lengthning sligh••; Till vanish'd every fear, and every power Rouz'd into life, and action, light in air Th' acquitted parents see their soaring race, [ 750] And once rejoicing never know them more.

HIGH from the summit of a craggy cliff, Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns On utmost * 1.21 Kilda's shore, whose lonely race Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds, [ 755] The royal eagle draws his vigorous young, Strong-pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire. Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, He drives them from his fort, the towering seat, For ages, of his empire; which, in peace, [ 760] Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to sea He wings his course, and preys in distant isles.

SHOULD I my steps turn to the rural seat, Whose lofty elms, and venerable oaks, Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs [ 765] In early Spring, his airy city builds, And ceaseless caws amusive; there, well-pleas'd, I might the various polity survey Of the mixt houshold-kind. The careful hen Calls all her chirping family around, [ 770] 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 [ 775] Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale; And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier isle, Protective of his young. The turkey nigh, Loud-threatning, reddens; while the peacock spreads His every-colour'd glory to the sun, [ 781] And swims in * 1.22 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. [ 785]

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, the raging passion feels. [ 790] Of pasture sick, and negligent of food, Scarce seen, he wades among the yellow broom, While o'er his ample sides the rambling sprays Luxuriant shoot; or thro' the mazy wood Dejected wanders, nor th' inticing bud [ 795] Crops, tho' it presses on his careless sense. And oft, in jealous madning fancy wrapt, He seeks the fight; and, idly-butting, feigns His rival gor'd in every knotty trunk. Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins; [ 800] Their eyes flash fury; to the hollow'd earth, Whence the sand flies, they mutter bloody deeds, And groaning deep th' impetuous battle mix:

While the fair heifer, balmy-breathing, near, Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed, With this hot impulse seiz'd in every nerve, [ 806] Nor hears the rein, nor heeds the sounding thong; 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; [ 810] O'er rocks and woods, and craggy mountains flies; And, neighing, on the aërial summit takes Th' exciting gale, then, steep descending, cleaves The headlong torrents foaming down the hills, Even where the madness of the straiten'd stream [ 815] 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 * 1.23 boiling deep: From the deep ooze, and gelid cavern rous'd, [ 820] They flounce and tumble in unwieldy joy. Dire were the strain, and dissonant, to sing The cruel raptures of the savage kind: How by this flame their native wrath sublim'd, They roam, amid the fury of their heart, [ 825] The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands, And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme I sing, enraptur'd, to the BRITISH FAIR, Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow, Where sits the shepherd on the grassy turf, [ 830] Inhaling, healthful, the des••ending 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 frolicks play. And now the sprightly race [ 835] 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 disu••ited BRITAIN ever bled, [ 840] Lest in eternal broil: ere yet she grew To this deep-laid indissoluble state, Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden heads; And, o'er our labours, Liberty and Law, Impartial, watch, the wonder of a world! [ 845]

WHAT is this mighty Breath, ye * 1.24 curious, say, † 1.25 That, in a language rather felt than heard, Instructs the fowls of heaven; and thro' their breast These arts of love diffuses? What, but GOD? Inspiring GOD! who boundless Spirit all, [ 850] And unremitting 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 stupendous scheme of things. [ 855] But, tho' conceal'd, to every purer eye Th' informing Author in his works appears: Chief, lovely Spring, in thee, and thy soft scenes, The SMILING GOD is seen▪ while water, earth, And air attest his bounty; which exalts [ 860] The brute-creation to this finer 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; [ 865] When heaven and earth, as if contending, vye To raise his being, and serene his soul. Can he forbear to join the general smile Of Nature? Can fierce passions vex his breast, While every gale is peace, and every grove [ 870] Is melody? Hence, from the bounteous walks Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of earth, Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe, Or only lavish to yourselves; away. But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide thought, Of all his works, CREATIVE BOUNTY burns [ 876] With warmest beam; and on your open front, And liberal eye, sits, from his dark retreat, Inviting modest want. Nor, till invok'd, Can restless goodness wait; your active search [ 880] 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 cloud [ 885] Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world; And the sun sheds his kindest rays for you, Ye flower of human race!—In these green days, Reviving sickness lifts her languid head; Life flows afresh; and young-ey'd health exalts [ 890] 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. [ 895] By swift degrees the love of Nature works,

And warms the bosom; till at last sublim'd To rapture, and enthusiastic heat, We feel the present DEITY, and taste The joy of GOD to see a happy world. [ 900]

THESE are the sacred feelings of thy heart, Thy heart inform'd by reason's * 1.26 purest ray, O LYTTELTON, the friend! thy passions thus And meditations vary, as at large, Courting the Muse, thro' Hagley-Park † 1.27 you stray, [ 905] Thy British Tempe! There along the dale, With woods o'erhung, and shag'd with mossy rocks, Whence on each hand the gushing waters play, And down the rough cascade white-dashing fall, Or gleam in lengthen'd vista thro' the trees, [ 910] You silent steal; or sit beneath the shade Of solemn oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand, And pensive listen to the various voice Of rural peace: the herds, the flocks, the birds, [ 915] The hollow-whispering breeze, the plaint of rills, That, purling down amid the twisted roots Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shake On the sooth'd ear. From these abstracted oft, You wander through the philosophic world; [ 920] Where in bright train continual wonders rise, Or to the curious or the pious eye. And oft, conducted by historic truth, You tread the long extent of backward time: Planning, with warm benevolence of mind, [ 925] And honest zeal unwarp'd by party-rage, BRITANNIA's weal; how from the venal gulph

To raise her virtue, and her arts revive. Or, turning thence thy view, these graver thoughts The Muses charm: while, with sure taste refin'd, [ 930] You draw th' inspiring breath of ancient song; Till nobly rises, emulous, thy own. Perhaps thy lov'd LUCINDA shares thy walk, With soul to thine attun'd. Then Nature all Wears to the lover's eye a look of love; [ 935] And all the tumult of a guilty world, Tost by ungenerous passions, sinks away▪ The tender heart is animated peace; And as it pours its copious treasures forth, In vary'd converse, softening every theme, [ 940] You, frequent-pausing, turn, and from her eyes, Where meeken'd sense, and amiable grace, And lively sweetness dwell, enraptur'd, drink That nameless spirit of ethereal joy, * 1.28 Inimitable happiness! which love, [ 945] Alone, bestows, and on a favour'd few. Meantime you gain the height, from whose fair brow The bursting prospect spreads immense around; And snatch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn, And verdant field, and darkening heath between, [ 950] And villages embosom'd soft in trees, And spiry towns by † 1.29 dusky columns mark'd Of ‡ 1.30 rising smoak, your eye excursive roams: Wide-stretching from the Hall, in whose kind haunt The Hospitable Genius ‖ 1.31 harbours still, [ 955] To where the broken landscape, by degrees, Ascending, roughens into § 1.32 ridgy hills; O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds That skirt the blue horison, §§ 1.33 doubtful, rise.

FLUSH'D by the spirit of the genial year, [ 960] Now from the virgin's cheek 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, [ 965] With palpitations wild; kind tumults seize 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! [ 970] Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts: Dare not th' infectious sigh; the pleading look, Down-cast, and low, in meek submission drest, But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue, Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, [ 975] Gain on your purpos'd will. 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, [ 980] Of the smooth glance beware▪ for 'tis too late, When on his heart the torrent-softness pours. Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame Dissolves in air away; while the fond soul, Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, [ 985] Still paints th' i••lus••••e 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, ••a••-warb••ing in his cheated ear, [ 990]

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 music flows around, Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours; [ 995] Amid the roses fierce repentance rears Her snaky crest: a quick-returning pang Shoots thro' the conscious heart; where honour still, And great design, against th' oppressive load Of luxury, by fits, impatient heave. [ 1000]

BUT absent, what fantastic woes, arous'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. [ 1005] 'Tis nought but gloom around. The darken'd sun Loses his light. The rosy-bosom'd spring To weeping fancy pines; and you bright arch, Contracted, bends into a dusky vault. All Nature fades extinct; and she alone [ 1010] Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought, 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 unattentive. From his tongue [ 1015] 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, [ 1020] And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts, Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs

To glimmering shades, and sympathetic glooms; Where the dun umbrage o'er the falling stream, Romantic, hangs; there thro' the pensive dusk [ 1025] Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation lost, Indulging all to love; or on the bank Thrown, amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day, [ 1030] 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 beam, [ 1035] 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 [ 1040] His idly-tortur'd heart into the page, Meant for the moving messenger of love; Where rapture burns on rapture, every line With rising frenzy fir'd. But if on bed Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies. [ 1045] All night he tosses, nor the balmy power In any posture finds; till the grey morn Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch, Exani••ate by love: and then perhaps Exhausted Nature sinks a while to rest, [ 1050] Still interrupted by distracted dreams That o'er the sick imagination rise, And in black colours paint the mimic scene. Oft with th' enchantress of his soul he talks; Sometimes in crouds distress'd; or if retir'd [ 1055] To secret-winding flower-enwoven bowers

Far from the dull impertinence of Man, Just as he, credulous, his endless cares Begins to lose in blind oblivious love, Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how, Thro' forests huge, and long untravel'd heaths [ 1061] 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 [ 1065] The farther shore; where succourless, and sad, She with extended arms his aid implores, But strives in vain; borne by th' outrageous flood To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave, Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy sinks. [ 1070] These are the charming agonies of love, Whose misery delights. But thro' the heart Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 'Tis then delightful misery no more, But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, [ 1075] Corroding every thought, and blasting all Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then, Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, Farewel! Ye gleamings of * 1.34 departing peace, Shine out your last! the yellow-tinging plague [ 1080] Internal vision taints, and in a night Of livid gloom imagination wraps. Ah then! instead of love-enliven'd cheeks, Of sunny features, and of ardent eyes With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, Suffus'd, and glaring with untender fire, [ 1086] A † 1.35 cloudy aspect, and a burning cheek, Where the whole poison'd soul, malignant sits,

And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views [ 1090] Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms For which he melts in fondness, eat him up With fervent anguish, and consuming rage. In vain reproaches lend their idle aid, Deceitful pride, and resolution frail, [ 1095] Giving false peace a moment. Fancy 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, [ 1100] Flames thro' the nerves, and boils along the veins: While anxious doubt distracts the tortur'd heart; For even the sad assurance of his fears Were * 1.36 peace to what he feels. Thus the warm youth Whom love deludes into his thorny wilds, [ 1105] Thro' flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life Of fever'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! [ 1110] Whom gentle 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, [ 1115] Attuning all their passions into love; Where friendship full-exerts her 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 [ 1121] 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, [ 1125] 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 [ 1130] Of a meer, lifeless, violated form: While those whom love cements in holy faith, And equal transport, free as Nature live, Disdaining fear. What is the world to them, Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all! [ 1135] 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, [ 1140] 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 [ 1145] 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, [ 1150] To pour the fresh ••nstruction o'er the mind, To breath 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ivening spirit, and to fix The gene•• p••rpose in the glowing breast.

Oh speak the joy,! ye, whom the sudden tear Surprizes often, while you look around, [ 1155] And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss, All various Nature pressing on the heart: An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, [ 1160] Progressive virtue, and approving HEAVEN. These are the matchless joys of virtuous love; And thus their moments fly. The seasons thus, As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll, Still find them happy; and consenting SPRING [ 1165] Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads: Till evening comes at last, serene and mild; When after the long vernal day of life, Enamour'd more, as more remembrance swells With many a proof of recollected love, [ 1170] Together down they sink in social sleep; Together freed, their gentle spirits fly To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign.

Notes

• * 1.1

  unwearied
• † 1.2

  liv'd.
• ‡ 1.3

  This line not in the last Ed.
• * 1.4

  h••
• † 1.5

  cave
• * 1.6

  swift
• * 1.7

  And
• † 1.8

  sage-instructed
• * 1.9

  boy
• * 1.10

  manners
• † 1.11

  d••eply
• * 1.12

  High HEAVEN forbids
• † 1.13

  with
• * 1.14

  captive
• * 1.15

  the matchless
• * 1.16

  Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, Low-be••t, and blushing inward; nor jonquils,
• * 1.17

  Deep-tangled
• * 1.18

  by kind duty
• * 1.19

  charm'd
• * 1.20

  toil
• * 1.21

  The farthest of the western islands of Scotland.
• * 1.22

  radiant
• * 1.23

  foaming
• * 1.24

  sages
• † 1.25

  That in a powerful language, felt not heard,
• * 1.26

  purer
• † 1.27

  thou strayest;
• * 1.28

  Unutterable
• † 1.29

  surging
• ‡ 1.30

  houshold
• ‖ 1.31

  lingers
• § 1.32

  rigid
• §§ 1.33

  dusky
• * 1.34

  departed
• † 1.35

  clouded
• * 1.36

  ease