Fatigued me, never weary of the pipe Of Tytirus, assembling, as he sang, The rustic throng beneath his favourite beech. New to my taste, his Paradise surpass'd 710 As twice seven years, his beauties had then first 715 720 With transports such as favour'd lovers feel, I studied, priz'd, and wish'd that I had known, Ingenious Cowley! and, though now, reclaim'd By modern lights from an erroneous taste, I cannot but lament thy splendid wit 725 Entangled in the cobwebs of the schools, I still revere thee, courtly though retir'd; Though stretch'd at ease in Chertsey's silent bowers, Not unemploy'd; and finding rich amends For a lost world, in solitude and verse. 730 'Tis born with all: The love of Nature's works Is an ingredient in the compound man, Infus'd at the creation of the kind. And, though the Almighty Maker has, throughout, Discriminated each from each, by strokes 735 And touches of his hand, with so much art Diversified, that two were never found Twins at all points-yet this obtains in all, That all discern a beauty in his works, And all can taste them: minds that have been form'd 740 And tutor'd. with a relish more exact; But none without some relish, none uumov'd. It is a flame that dies not even there, Where nothing feeds it, neither business, crowds, Nor habits of luxurious city-life, 745 Whatever else they smother of true worth In human bosoms, quench it, or abate. The villa's with which London stands begirt, Like a swarth Indian with his belt of beads, 750 The glimpse of a green pasture,-how they cheer The citizen, and brace his languid frame! A garden, in which nothing strives, has charms 755 760 Though sickly samples of the exuberant whole. What are the casements lin'd with creeping herbs, The prouder sashes fronted with a range Of orange, myrtle, or the fragrant weed, The Frenchman's* darling? Are they not all proofs 765 That man, immur'd in cities, still retains His inborn, inextinguishable thirst Of rural scenes, compensating his loss By supplemental shifts, the best he may? The most unfurnish'd with the means of life, 770 And they that never pass their brick-wall bounds To range the fields and treat their lungs with air, 775 Hail, therefore, patroness of health, and ease, 780 And contemplation, heart-consoling joys, And harmless pleasures, in the throng'd abode He gives a tongue to enlarge upon, an heart * Mignonnette, 786 790 795 To monarchs dignity; to judges sense; To artists ingenuity and skill; To me an unambitious mind, content A wish for ease and leisure, and ere long X 800 ARGUMENT OF THE FIFTH BOOK. A frosty morning.-The foddering of cattle. The man and his dog. The poultry.-Whimsical effects of frost at a waterfall.-The Empress of Russia's palace of ice.-Amusements of monarchs.-War, one of them.-Wars, whence -And whence monarchy.—The evils of it.English and French loyalty contrasted.-The Bastille, and a prisoner there.--Liberty the chief recommendation of this country.--Modern patriotism questionable, and why.--The perisha ble nature of the best human institutions-Spiritual liberty not perishable.—The slavish state of man by nature.-Deliver him, Deist, if you can.-Grace must do it.—The respective merits of patriots and martyrs stated.—Their different treatment.-Happy freedom of the man whom grace makes free.-His relish of the works of God.--Address to the Creator. BOOK V. 5 10 15 THE WINTER MORNING WALK. 'TIS morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb His slanting ray Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds, Transform'd to a lean shank. The shapeless pair, |