In matted grass, that with a livelier green No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar; paler some, And of a wannish gray; the willow such,. And poplar, that with silver lines his leaf, And ash far-stretching his umbrageous arm; Of deeper green the elm; and deeper still, Lord of the woods, the long-surviving oak. Some glossy-leav'd, and shining in the sun, The maple, and the beech of oily nuts. Prolific, and the lime at dewy eve Diffusing odours: nor unnoted pass The sycamore, capricious in attire, Now green, now tawny, and, ere autumn yet Have chang'd the woods, in scarlet honours bright THE THRESHER. THE grove receives us next; Between the upright shafts of whose tall elms We may discern the thresher at his task. Thump after thump resounds the constant flail, That seems to swing uncertain, and yet falls Full on the destin'd ear. Wide flies the chaff. The rustling straw sends up a frequent mist Of atoms, sparkling in the noon-day beam. Come hither, ye that press your beds of down, And sleep not see him sweating o'er his bread Before he eats it. "Tis the primal curse, But soften'd into mercy; made the pledge Of cheerful days, and nights without a groan. GYPSIES. I SEE a column of slow-rising smoke Which, kindled with dry leaves, just saves unquench'd The spark of life. The sportive wind blows wide In human mould, should brutalize by choice By which the world might profit, and himself, Such squalid sloth to honourable toil! Yet even these, though, feigning sickness, oft, Can change their whine into a mirthful note The houseless rovers of the sylvan world; And, breathing wholesome air, and wand'ring much, Need other physick none to heal th' effects DISCIPLINE. IN colleges and halls, in ancient days, Was to encourage goodness. He would stroke If e'er it chanc'd, as sometimes chance it must, |