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Unhurt by sickness' blasting rage,
And slowly mell'wing into age;
When fate extends it's gath'ring gripe,
Fall off like fruit grown fully ripe;
Quit a worn being without pain,
In hope to blossom-soon again.

GREEN.

WM

CHAP. VII.

GRONGAR HILL.

1

SILENT nymph, with curious eye,
Who, the purple ev'ning, lie
On the mountain's lonely van,
Beyond the noise of busy man,
Painting fair the form of things,
While the yellow linnet sings ;
Or the tuneful nightingale
Charms the forest with her tale ;
Come with all thy various hues,
Come and aid thy sister Muse :
Now while Phæbus riding high
Gives lustre to the land and sky!-
Grongar Hill invites iny song,
Draw the landscape bright and strong;
Grongar, in whose mossy cells
Sweetly musing Quiet dwells;
Grongar, in whose silent shade,
For the nodest Muses made,
So oft I have, the evening still,
At the fountaiti of a rill,
Sate upon a flow'ry bed,
With hand beneath

my

head :
While stray'd my eyes o'er Towy's flood,
Over mead, and over wond,
From horise to house, from hill to brill,
Till Contemplation had her fill.

About his chequer'd sides I wind,
And leave his brooks and meads behind,

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And groves and grottoes where I lay,
And vistas shooting beans of day:
Wide and wider spreads the vale,
As circles on a sinooth canal;
The mountains round, unhappy fate!
Soon or later, of all height,
Withdraw their summits from the skies,
And lessen as the others rise;
Still the prospect wider spreads,
Adds a thousand woods and meads,
Still it widens, widens still,
And sinks the newly-risen bill.

Now, I gain the mountain's brow;
What a landscape lies below!
No ciouds, to vapours intervene,
Bnt the gay, the open scene
Does the face of Nature show,
In all the hues of Heav'n's bow!
And, swelling to embrace the light,
Spreads around beneath the sight.
Old castles on the cliffs arise,
Proudly tow'ring in the skies ;
Rushing from the woods, the spires
Seem from hence ascending fires !
Half his beams Apollo sheds
On the yellow mountain-heads !
Gilds the fleeces of the flocks,
And glitters on the broken rocks.

Below me trees unnumber'd rise,
Beautiful in various dyes :
The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,
The yellow beech, the sable yew,
The slender fir, that taper grows,
The sturdy oak, with broad-spread bouglis,
And beyond, the purple grove,
Haunt of Phillis, queen of love!
Gaudy as the op’ning dawn,
Lies a long and level lawn,
On which a dark hill, strep and high,
Holds and charms the wand'ring eye;

Deep are his feet in Towy's flood,
His sides are cloth'd with waving wood,
And ancient towers crown his brow,
That cast an awful look below;
Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps,
And with her arms from falling keeps ;
So both a safety from the wind
In mutual dependance find.

"Tis now the raven's bleak abode;
"Tis now th' apartment of the toad;
And there the fox securely feeds,
And there the pois'nous adder breeds,
Conceal'd in ruins, moss, and weeds :
While, ever and anon, there falls
Huge heaps of hoary mouider'd walls.
Yet time has been, that lifts the low,
And level lays the lofty brow,
Has seen the broken pile complete,
Big with the vanity of state :
But transient is the smile of fale;
A little rule, a little sway,
A sunbeam in a winter's day,
Is all the proud and mighty have
Between the cradle and the grave.

And see the rivers how they run,
Through woods and meads, in shade and suu,
Sometimes swiftly, sometimes slow,
Wave succeeding wave they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life to endless sleep!
Thus is Nature's vesture wrought,
To instruct our wand'ring thought ;
Thus she dresses green and

gay, Tu disperse our cares away.

Ever charming, ever new,
Wlien will the landscape tire the view!
The fountain's fall, the river's flow,
The woody vallies warm and low;
Tlie windy summit, wild and high,
Rouglily rushing on the sky;

مصمہ

The pleasant seat, and ruin'd tow'r,
The naked rock, the shady bow'r;
The town and village, dome and farm,
Each gives each a double charm,
As pearls upon an Æthiop's arm.

See on the mountain's southern side,
Where the prospect opens wide,
Where the ev'ning gilds the tide,
How close and small the hedges lie!
What streaks of meadows cross the eye!
A step methinks may pass the stream ;
So little distant dangers seem;
So we mistake the future's face,
Ey'd through hope's deluding glass;
As yon summits soft and fair,
Clad in colours of the air,
Which to those who journey near,
Barren, brown, and rough appear;
Still we tread the sanie coarse way,
The present's still a cloudy day.

o may I with myself agree,
And never covet what I see!
Content me with an humble shade,
My passions tam'd, my wishes laid ;
For while our wishes wildly roll,
We banish quiet from the soul;

Tis thus the busy beat the air ;
And misers gather wealth and care.

Now, ev'n now, my joys run high,
As on the mountain turf I lie;
While the wanton Zephyr sings,
And in the vale perfumes his wings;
While the waters murmur deep;
While the shepherd charms his sheep :
While the birds unbounded fly,
And with music fill the sky,
Now, er'n now, my joys run high.

Be full, ye courts, be great who will,
Search for peace

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vith all

your Open wide the lofty door, Seek her on the marble floor;

skill;

In vain ye search, she is not there;
In vain ye search the domes of care !
Grass and flowers Quiet treads,
On the meads and mountain heads,
Along with Pleasure, close allied,
Ever by each other's side :
And often, by the munn' ring rill,
Hears the thrush, while all is still,
Within the groves of Grongar Hill.

DYER.

CHAP. VIII.

HYMN TO ADVERSITY.

DAUGHT of Jove, relentless pow'r,
Thou tam. Jf the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, uppitied and alone.

When first thy sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, design'd,
To thee he gave the heav'nly birth,
And bade thee form ber infant mind.
Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore :
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know:
And from her own she learn’d to melt at others' wo.

Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light iley disperse, and with them go The summer Friend, the flatt'ring Foe; By vain Prosperity receivd, To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd..

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