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With every kind emotion in his heart,

The speckled captive throw. But should you lure And taught alone to weep; while from her lap From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs,

Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook, And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain, Behoves you then to ply your finest art Or beams that gave them birth: shall he, fair form! Long time he, following cautious, scans the fiy ; Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on Heaven, And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear And dip his tongue in gare? The beast of prey, At last, while haply o'er the shaded Sun Blood-stain'd, deserves to bleed: but you, ye flocks, Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death, What have ye done ; ye peaceful people, what, With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, To merit death ? you who have given us milk Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line : In luscious streams, and lent us your own coat Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed, Against the winter's cold? And the plain ox, The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode; That harmless, honest, guileless animal,

And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool, In what has he otsended? he, whose toil,

Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, Patient and ever ready, clothes the land

That feels him still, yet to his furious course With all the pomp of harvest : shall be bleed, Gives way, you, now retiring, following now, And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage : Ev'n of the clown he feeds; and that, perhaps, Till floating broad upon his breathless side, To swell the riot of th' autumnal feast,

And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore Won by his labor ? Thus the feeling heart

You gaily drag your unresisting prize. Would tenderly suggest : but 'tis enough,

Thus pass the temperate hours : but when the Sun In this late age, adventurous, to have touch'd Shakes from his noon-day throne the scattering Light on the numbers of the Samian sage.

clouds, High Heaven forbids the bold presumptuous strain, Ev'n shooting listless languor through the deeps; Whose wisest will has fix'd us in a slate

Then seek the bank where flowering elders crowd That must not yet to pure perfection rise.

Where, scatter'd wild, the lily of the vale Now, when the first foul torrent of the brooks, Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang Swell’d with the vernal rains, is ebb’d away, The dewy head, where purple violets lurk And, whitening, down their mossy-tinctur'd stream With all the lowly children of the shade: Descends the billowy foam : now is the time, Or lie reclin'd beneath yon spreading ash, While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, |Hung o'er the steep; whence, borne on liquid wing To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly, The sounding culver shoots ; or where the hawk, The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring,

High, in the beetling cliff, his aëry builds. Snatch'd from the hoary steed the floating line, There let the classic page the fancy lead And all thy siender wat’ry stores, prepare.

Through rural scenes, such as the Mantuan swain But let not on thy hook the tortur'd worm, Paints in the matchless harmony of song. Convulsive, twist in agonizing folds ;

Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift
Which, by rapacious hunger swallow'd deep, Athwart imagination's vivid eye:
Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breast Or by the vocal woods and waters lulld,
of the weak helpless uncomplaining wretch, And lost in lonely musing, in the dream,
Harsh pain, and horror to the tender hand.

Confus'd, of careless solitude, where mix
When with his lively ray the potent Sun Ten thousand wandering images of things,
Has pierc'd the streams, and rous'd the finny race, Soothe every gust of passion into peace;
Then issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair;

All but the swellings of the soften'd heart, Chief should the western breezes curling play, That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds. Behold yon breathing prospect bids the Muse High to their fount, this day, amid the hills Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint And woodlands warbling nund, trace up the brooks; Like Nature? Can imagination boast, The next, pursue their rocky-channellid maze, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers? Down to the river, in whose ample wave

Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, Their little Naïads love to sport at large.

And lose them in each other, as appears Just in the dubious point, where with the pool In every bud that blows? If fancy then Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task, Around the stone, or from the hollow'd bank Ah, what shall language do ! ah, where find words Reverted plays in undulating flow,

Ting’d with so many colors; and whose power There throw, nice judging, the delusive fly; To'lise approaching, may perfume my lays And as you lead it round in artful curve,

With that fine oil, those aromatic gales, With eye attentive mark the springing game. That inexhaustive flow continual round ? Straight as above the surface of the flood

Yet, though successless, will the toil delight. They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger leap, Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook : Have felt the raptures of refining love! . Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank,

And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song ! And to the shelving shore, slow-dragging some, Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself! With various hand proportion'd to their force. Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweer If yet too young, and easily deceiv'd,

Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul, A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod, Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd, Him, piteous of his youth, and the short space Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart: He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heaven,

O come! and while the rosy-footed May Soft disengage, and back into the stream

Steals blushing on, together let us tread

The morning dews, and gather in their prime By thee the various vegetable tribes,
Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair, Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves,
And thy lov'd bosom that improves their sweets. Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew;

See where the winding vale its lavish stores, | By thee dispos'd into congenial soils,
Irriguous, spreads. See, how the lily drinks Stands each attractive plant, and sucks and swells
The latent rill, scarce oozing through the grass, The juicy tide; a twining mass of tubes.
Of growth luxuriant: or the humid bank, . | At thy command the vernal Sun awakes
In fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, |The torpid sap, detruded to the root
Where the breeze blows from yon extended field By wintery winds; that now in fluent dance,
Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast

And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads
A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence (soul. All this innumerous-color'd scene of things.
Breathes through the sense, and takes the ravish'd As rising from the vegetable world
Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot,

|My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend,
Full of fresh verdure, and unnumber'd flowers, My panting Muse; and hark how loud the woods
The negligence of Nature, wide, and wild ; Invite you forth in all your gayest trim.
Where, undisguis'd by mimic Art, she spreads Lend me your song, ye nightingales! oh! pour
Unbounded beauty to the roving eye.

The mazy-running soul of melody Here their delicious task the fervent bees,

Into my varied verse! while I deduce, In swarming millions, tend: around, athwari, From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, | The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube,

Unknown to fame, the passion of the groves. Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul;

When first the soul of love is sent abroad, And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare Warm through the vital air, and on the heart The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin, And yellow load them with the luscious spoil.

In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing; At length the finish'd garden to the view And try again the long-forgotten strain, Its vistas opens, and its alleys green.

At first faint-warbled. But no sooner grows Snatch'd through the verdant maze, the hurried eye The soft infusion prevalent and wide, Distracted wanders; now the bowery walk

| Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows Of covert close, where scarce a speck of day In music unconfin'd. Up springs the lark, Falls on the lengthen'd gloom, protracted sweeps : Shrill-voic'd, and loud, the messenger of morn; Now meets the bending sky; the river now

Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings Dimpled along, the breezy ruffled lake,

| Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts The forest darkening round, the glittering spire, Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse Th' ethereal mountain, and the distant main.

Deep-langled, tree irregular, and bush
But why so far excursive? when at hand,

Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads
Along these blushing borders, bright with dew, Of the coy quiristers that lodge within,
And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers,

Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush
Fair-handed Spring uubosoms every grace;

And wood-lark, o'er the kind-contending throng Throws out the snow-drop, and the crocus first; Superior heard, run through the sweetest length The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue,

Of notes; when listening Philomela deigns And polyanthus of unnumber'd dyes;

To let them joy, and purposes, in thought The yellow wall-flower, stain'd with iron-brown; Elate, to make her night excel their day. And lavish stock that scents the garden round:

The black-bird whistles from the thorny brake; From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,

The mellow bull-finch answers from the grove : Anemonies ; auriculas, enrich'd

Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves; Pour'd out profusely, silent. Join'd to these, And full ranunculus of glowing red.

Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix Her idle freaks; from family diffus'd

Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw, To family, as flies the father dust,

And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone, The varied colors run; and while they break Aid the full concert: while the stock-dove breathes On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist marks, A melancholy murmur through the whole. With secret pride, the wonders of his hand.

'Tis love creates their melody, and all
No gradual bloom is wanting ; from the bud, |This waste of music is the voice of love;
First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes : That ev'n to birds, and beasts, the tender arts
Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white,

Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind
Low-bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils, Try every winning way inventive love
Of potent fragrance; nor Narcissus fair,

Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates
As o'er the fabled mountain hanging still ;

Pour forth their little souls. First, wide around, Xor broad carnations, nor gay spotled pinks; With distant awe, in airy rings they rove, Nor, shower'd from every bush, the damask-rose.

Endeavoring by a thousand tricks to catch Infinite numbers, delicacies, sme'ls,

The cunning, conscious, half-averted glance With hues on hucs expression cannot paint,

of their regardless charmer. Should she seem The breath of Nature and her endless bloom. Softening the least approvance to bestow, Hail, source of Being! Universal Soul

Their colors burnish, and, by hope inspir'd. Of Heaven and Earth! essential Presence, hail! They brisk advance; then, on a sudden stryck. To thee I bend the knee; to thee, my thoughts Retire disorder'd ; then again approach; Continual climb; who, with a master-hand, In fond rotation spread the spotted wing, Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd. And shiver every feather with desire.

Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods The heath-hen flutters, pious fraud! to lead They haste away, all as their fancy leads,

The hot pursuing spaniel far astray. Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts;

Be not the Muse asham'd, here to bemoan That Nature's great command may be obey'd : Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant man Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage Indulg'd in vain. Some to the holly-hedge From liberty confin'd, and boundless air. Nestling repair, and to the thicket some;

Dull are the pretty slaves, their plumage dull, Some to the rude protection of the thorn

Ragged, and all its brightening lustre lost; Commit their feeble offspring : the cleft tree Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes, Offers its kind concealment to a few,

Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beet h. Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. O then, ye friends of love and love-taught song, Others a part, far in the grassy dale,

Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. If on your bosom innocence can win, But most in woodland solitudes delight,

Music engage, or piety persuade. In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks,

But let not chief the nightingale lament
Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,

Her ruin'd care, too delicately fram'd
Whose murmurs soothe them all the livelong day, To brook the harsh confinement of the cage.
When by kind duty fix'd. Among the roots on when, returning with her loaded bill,
Of hazel, pendent o'er the plaintive stream, | Th' astonish'd mother finds a vacant nest,
They frame the first foundation of their domes; By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns
Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,

Robb'd, to the ground the vain provision falls; And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought Her pinions ruffle, and, low dropping, scarce But restless hurry through the busy air,

Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade; Beat by unnumber'd wings. The swallow sweeps Where, all abandon'd to despair, she sings The slimy pool, to build his hanging house Her sorrows through the night; and, on the bough Intent. And often, from the careless back

Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall Of herds and socks a thousand tugging bills Takes up again her lamentable strain Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserv'd, Of winding woe; till, wide around, the woods Steal from the barn a straw: till soft and warm, Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound. Clean, and complete, their habitation grows.

But now the feather'd youth their former bounds As thus the patient dam assiduous sits,

Ardent, disdain ; and, weighing of their wings, Not to be tempted from her tender task,

| Demand the free possession of the sky. Or by sharp hunger, or by smooth delight,

This one glad office more, and then dissolves Though the whole loosen'd Spring around her blows, Parental love at once, now needless grown. Her sympathizing lover takes his stand

Unlavish'd Wisdom never works in vain. High on th’ opponent bank, and ceaseless sings "Tis on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild, The tedious time away; or else supplies

When nought but balm is breathing through the Her place a moment, while she sudden flits

woods, To pick the scanty meal. Th' appointed time With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes With pious toil fulfill'd, the callow young, Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad Warm'd and expanded into perfect life,

On Nature's common far as they can see, Their brittle bondage break, and come to light, Or wing, their range and pasture. O'er the boughs A helpless family, demanding food

Dancing about, still at the giddy verge With constant clamor: 0 what passions then, Their resolution fails; their pinions still, What melting sentiments of kindly care,

In loose libration stretch'd, to trust the void On the new parents seize! Away they fly

Trembling refuse: till down before them fly Affectionate, and undesiring bear

The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command, The most delicious morsel to their young ;

Or push them off. The surging air receives Which equally distributed, again

Its plumy burden ; and their self-taught wings The search begins. E'en so a gentle pair.

Winnow the waving element. On ground By fortune sunk, but form'd of generous mould, Alighted, bolder up again they lead, And charm'd with cares beyond the vulgar breast, Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight; In some lone cot amid the distant woods,

Till, vanish'd every fear, and every power Sustain'd alone by providential Heaven,

Rous'd into life and action, light in air Oft as they weeping eye their infant train,

Th'acquitted parents see their soaring race, Check their own appetites, and give them all. And once rejoicing never know them more. Nor toil alone they scorn; exalting love,

High from the summit of a craggy cliff, By the great Father of the Spring inspir'd,

Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns Gives instant courage to the fearful race,

On utmost Kilda's* shore, whose lonely race, And to the simple, art. With stealthy wing, Resign'd the setting sun to Indian worlds, Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest, The royal eagle draws his vigorous young, Amid a neighboring bush they silent drop,

Strong-pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire. And whirling thence, as if alarm'd. deceive Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, Th’unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head He drives them from his fort, the towering seat, Of wandering swain, the white-wing'd plover wheels For ages, of his empire ; which, in peace, Her sounding flight, and then directly on

Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to sea In long excursion skims the level lawn,

He wings his course, and preys in distant isles. To tempt him from her nest. The wild-duck, hence, O'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless waste (* The farthest of the western islands of Scotland.

Should I my steps turn to the rural seat,

Around him feeds his many-bleating flock, Whose lofty elms, and venerable oaks,

of various cadence; and his sportive lambs, Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs, This way and that convolv'd, in friskful glee In early Spring, his airy city builds,

Their frolics play. And now the sprightly race And ceaseless caws amusive; there, well pleas'd, Invites them forth; when swift, the signal given, I might the various polity survey

They start away, and sweep the massy mound of the mixt household kind. The careful hen | That runs around the hill; the rampart once Calls all her chirping family around,

Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times, Fed and defended by the fearless cock;

When disunited Britain ever bied, Whose breast with ardor flames, as on he walks Lost in eternal broil: ere yet she grew Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond, To this deep-laid indissoluble state, hoads The finely-chequer'd duck, before her train, Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden Rows garrulous. The stately sailing swan

And o'er our labors, Liberty and Law, Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale;

Impartial, watch; the wonder of a world ! And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet

What is this mighty Breath, ye sages, say, Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier-isle, That, in a powerful larguage, felt, not heard, Protective of his young. The turkey nigh, Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through their Loud threatening reddens; while the peacock

breast spreads

These arts of love diffuses ? What, but God ! His every.color'd glory to the Sun,

Inspiring God! who, boundless Spirit all, And swims in radiant majesty along.

| And unremitting Energy, pervades,
O'er the whole homely scene, the cooing dovo Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole.
Flies thick in amorous chase, and wanton rolls He ceaseless works alone ; and yet alone
The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. Seems not to work: with such perfection fram'd

While thus the gentle tenants of the shade is this complex stupendous scheme of things.
Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world But, though conceald, to every purer eye
Or brutes, below, rush furious into flame,

Th' informing Author in his works appeare:
And fierce desire. Through all his lusty veins Chief, lovely Spring, in thee, and thy soft scenes,
The bull, deep-scorch'd, the raging passion feels. The smiling God is seen; while water, earth,
of pasture sick, and negligent of food,

| And air, attest his bounty ; which exalts Scarce seen, he wades among the yellow broom, | The brute creation to this finer thought, While o'er his ample side the rambling sprays And annual melts their undesigning hearts Luxuriant shoot; or through the mazy wood

Profusely thus in tenderness and joy. Dejected wanders, nor th' enticing bud

Still let my song a nobler note assume, Crops, though it presses on his careless sense. And sing th' infusive force of Spring on man ; And oft, in jealous maddening fancy wrapt, When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie He seeks the fight; and, idly butting, feigne To raise his being, and serene his soul. His rival gor'd in every knotiy trunk.

Can he forbear to join the general smile Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins : Of Nature ? Can fierce passions vex his breast, Their eyes flash fury; to the hollow'd earth, While every gale is peace, and every grove Whence the sand flies, they mutter bloody deeds, Is melody? Hence! from the bounteous walks And, groaning deep, th' impetuous battle mix : of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of Earth, While the fair heifer, balmy breathing, near, Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe! Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed, Or only lavish to yourselves ; away! With this hot impulse seiz'd in every nerve, But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide thonght Nor heeds the rein, nor hears the sounding thong; of all his works, creative Bounty burns Blows are not felt; but, tossing high his head, With warmest beam; and on your open front, And by the well-known joy to distant plains And liberal eye, sits, from his dark retreat Attracted strong, all wild he bursts away; Inviting modest Want. Nor, till invok'd, O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies: Can restless goodness wait: your active search And, neighing, on th'aërial summit takes

Leaves no cold wintery corner unexplor'd; Th'exeiung gale; then, steep-descending, cleaves Like silent-working Heaven, surprising oft The headlong torrents foaming down the hills, The lonely heart with unexpected good. Er'n where the madness of the straiten'd stream For you, the roving spirit of the wind Turns in black eddies round; such is the force Blows Spring abroad; for you, the teeming clouds With which his frantic heart and sinews swell. Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world ;

Nor undelighted by the boundless Spring And the Sun sheds his kindest rays for you, Are the broad monsters of the foaming deep: Ye flower of human race! In these green days, From the deep ooze and gelid cavern rous'd, Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head : They flounce and tumble in unwieldy joy.

Life flows afresh ; and young-ey'd Health exalts Dire were the strain, and dissonant, to sing

The whole oreation round. Contentment walks The cruel raptures of the savage kind:

The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss How by this flame their native wrath sublim'd, Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings They roam, amid the fury of their heart,

To purchase. Pure serenity apace The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands,

Induces thought, and contemplation still.
And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme | By swift degrees the love of Nature works,
I sing. enraptur'd, to the British Fair,

And warms the bosom ; till at last sublim'd
Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow, To rapture, and enthusiastic heat,
Where sits the shepherd on the grassy turf, We feel the present Deity, and taste
Inhaling, healthful, the descending Sun.

The joy of God to see a happy world!

These are the sacred feelings of thy heart, With sighing languishment. Ah then, ye fair. Thy heart inform'd by reason's purer ray,

Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts: O Lyttleton, the friend! thy passions thus

Dare not th' infectious sigh; the pleading look, And meditations vary, as at large.

Downcast, and low, in meek submission drest, Courting the Muse, through Hagley Park thou But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue, stray'st ;

Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, Thy British Temple! There along the dale, Gain on your purpos'd will. Nor in the bower, With woods o'er-hung and shagg'd with mossy rocks, Where woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch, Whence on each hand the gushing waters play, While Evening draws her crimson curtains round And down the rough cascade white-dashing fall, Trust your soft minutes with betraying man. Or gleam in lengthen’d vista through the trees, And let th' aspiring youth beware of love, You silent steal; or sit beneath the shade

Of the smooth glance beware; for 'tis too late, Of solemn oaks, that luft the swelling mounts When on his heart the torrent-softness pours. Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand, Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame And peusive listen to the various voice

Dissolves in air away: while the fond soul, Of rural peace: the herds, the flocks, the birds, Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, The hollow-whispering breeze, the plaint of rills, Still paints th' illusive form; the kindling grace; That, purling down amid the twisted roots

Th’enticing smile; the modest-seeming eye, Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shake Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying Heaven, On the sooth'd ear. From these abstracted oft, Lurk searchless cunning, cruelty, and deaih: You wander through the philosophic world; And still false-warbling in his cheated ear, Where in bright train continual wonders rise, Her syren voice, enchanting, draws him on Or to the curious or the pious eye.

To guileful shores, and meads of fatal joy. And oft, conducted by historic truth,

Ev'n present, in the very lap of love You tread the long extent of backward time; Inglorious laid ; while music flows around, Planning, with warm benevolence of mind, Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours; And honest zeal, unwarp'd by party-rage,

Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears Britannia's weal; how from the venal gulf Her'snaky crest: a quick-returning pang (still To raise her virtue, and her arts revive.

Shoots through the conscious heart, where honor Or, turning thence thy view, these graver thoughts And great design, against the oppressive load The Muses charm : while, with sure taste refin'd, of luxury, hy fits, impatient heave. You draw th' inspiring breath of ancient song;. But absent, what fantastic woes, arous'd, Till nobly rises, emulous, thy own.

Rage in each thought, by restless musing fed, Perhaps thy lov'd Lucinda shares thy walk, Chill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of lite With soul to thine aitun'd. Then Nature all Neglected fortune flies; and sliding swifi, Wears to the lover's eye a look of love;

Prone into ruin, fall his scorn'd affairs. And all the tumult of a guilty world,

'Tis nought but gloom around: the darkend Sun Tost by ungenerous passions, sinks away.

Loses his light. The rosy-bosom'd Spring The tender heart is animated peace;

To weeping fancy pines; and yon bright arch, And as it pours its copious treasures forth,

Contracted, bends into a dusky vault. In varied converse, softening every theme,

All Nature fades extinct; and she alone You, frequent pausing, turn, and from her eyes, Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought, Where meekend sense, and amiable grace, Fills every sense, and pants in every vein. And lively sweetness dwell, enraptur'd, drink Books are but formal dullness, tedious friends; That nameless spirit of ethereal joy,

And sad amid the social band he sits, Unutterable happiness! which love,

Lonely, and unattentive. From his tongue Alone, bestows, and on a favor'd few.

Th' unfinish'd period falls: while, borne away Meantime you gain the height, from whose fair brow On swelling thought, his wasted spirit flies The bursting prospect spreads immense around: To the vain bosom of his distant fair; And stretch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn, And leaves the semblance of a lover fix'd And verdant field, and darkening heath between, In melancholy site, with head declind, And villages embosom'd soft in trees,

And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts, And spiry towns by surging columus mark'd Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams : To glimmering shades, and sympathetic glooms; Wide-stretching from the hall in whose kind haunt Where the dun umbrage o'er the falling stream, The hospitable genius lingers still,

Romantic, hangs; there through the pensive dus! To where the broken landscape, by degrees, Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation lost; Ascending, roughens into rigid hills;

Indulging all to love: or on the bank O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds Thrown, amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise.

With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year,

Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day, Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom Nor quits bis deep retirement, till the Moon Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round; Peeps through the chambers of the fleecy east, Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth; Enlightend by degrees, and in her train The shining moisture swells into her eyes, Leads on the gentle hours; then forth he walks In brighter flow; her wishing bosom heaves Beneath the trembling languish of her beam, With palpitations wild ; kind tumults seize With soften'd soul, and wooes the bird of eve Her veins, and all her yielding soul is love. To mingle woes with his : or while the world From the keen gaze her lover turns away,

And all the sons of care lie hush'd in sleep, Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick

| Associates with the midnight shadows drear.

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