The folded gates would bar my progress now, But that the Lord of this inclosed demefne, Communicative of the good he owns, Admits me to a fhare: the guiltless eye Commits no wrong, nor waftes what it enjoys. Refreshing change! where now the blazing fun? By short tranfition we have loft his glare And stepp'd at once into a cooler clime. Ye fallen avenues! once more I mourn Your fate unmerited, once more rejoice That yet a remnant of your race furvives. How airy and how light the graceful arch, Yet awful as the confecrated roof
Re-echoing pious anthems! while beneath. The chequer'd earth feems reftless as a flood Brush'd by the wind. So fportive is the light. Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance, Shadow and funshine intermingling quick, And darkning and enlightning, as the leaves Play wanton, ev'ry moment, ev'ry spot.
And now with nerves new-brac'd and fpirits chear'd We tread the wilderness, whose well-roll'd walks With curvature of flow and easy fweep, Deception innocent-give ample space
To narrow bounds. The grove receives us next; Between the upright fhafts of whose tall elms We may difcern the thresher at his task. Thump after thump refounds the conftant flail,
That feems to fwing uncertain, and yet falls Full on the deftin'd ear. Wide flies the chaff, The ruftling ftraw fends up a frequent mift Of atoms fparkling in the noon-day beam. Come hither, ye that prefs your beds of down And fleep not: fee him fweating o'er his bread? Before he eats it.-'Tis the primal curfe, But foften'd into mercy; made the pledge Of chearful days, and nights without a groan..
By ceafelefs action, all that is, fubfifts. Conftant rotation of th' unwearied wheel That nature rides upon, maintains her health, Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads
An inftant's paufe, and lives but while fhe moves.. Its own revolvency upholds the world. Winds from all quarters agitate the air, And fit the limpid element for use,
Elfe noxious; oceans, rivers, lakes, and ftreams: All feel the fresh'ning impulfe, and are cleanfed By reftlefs undulation; ev'n the oak
Thrives by the rude concuffion of the ftorm; He seems indeed indignant, and to feel Th' impreffion of the blast with proud disdain, Frowning as if in his unconscious arm
He held the thunder. But the monarch owes. His firm ftability to what he fcorns,
More fixt below, the more difturb'd above. The law by which all creatures else are bouud, Binds man the lord of all. Himself derives
No mean advantage from a kindred caufe, From ftreneous toil his hours of fweeteft eafe. The fedentary stretch their lazy length When custom bids, but no refreshment find, For none they need: the languid eye, the cheek Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid, fhrunk, And wither'd mufcle, and the vapid foul, Reproach their owner with that love of reft To which he forfeits ev'n the rest he loves. Not fuch th' alert and active. Measure life By its true worth, the comforts it affords, And theirs alone feems worthy of the name. Good health, and its afsociate in the most,
Good temper; fpirits prompt to undertake,
And not foon spent, though in an arduous task ; The powers of fancy and ftrong thought are theirs Ev'n age itself feems privileged in them With clear exemption from its own defects. A fparkling eye beneath a wrinkled front The vet'ran fhows, and gracing a grey beard With youthful fmiles, defcends toward the grave Sprightly, and old almost without decay.
Like a coy maiden, eafe, when courted moft, Fartheft retires-an idol, at whose shrine Who oft'neft facrifice are favor'd leaft.
The love of Nature, and the scenes fhe draws Is Nature's dictate. Strange! there should be found Who felf-imprifon'd in their proud faloons,
Renounce the odors of the open field
For the unfcented fictions of the looms Who fatisfied with only pencil'd fcenes, Prefer to the performance of a God Th' inferior wonders of an artift's hand. Lovely indeed the mimic works of art, But Nature's works far lovelier. I admire- None more admires the painter's magic skill, Who fhews me that which I fhall never fee, Conveys a diftant country into mine,
And throws Italian light on English walls. But imitative ftrokes can do no more Than pleafe the eye, fweet Nature ev'ry sense. The air falubrious of her lofty hills. The chearing fragrance of her dewy vales And mufic of her woods-no works of man May rival thefe; thefe all befpeak a power Peculiar, and exclufively her own. Beneath the open fky fhe fpreads the feaft; 'Tis free to all-'tis ev'ry day renew'd, Who fcorns it, flarves defervedly at home. He does not fcorn it, who imprifon'd long In fome unwholefome dungeon, and a prey To fallow fickness, which the vapors dank And clammy of his dark abode have bred, Efcapes at laft to liberty and light.
His cheek recovers foon its healthful hue, His eye relumines its extinguifh'd fires,
He walks, he leaps, he runs-is wing'd with joy, And riots in the fweets of ev'ry breeze.
He does not fcorn it, who has long endur'd
A fever's agonies, and fed on drugs. Nor yet the mariner, his blood inflamed With acrid falts; his very heart athirst To gaze at Nature in her green array. Upon the hip's tall fide he ftands, poffefs'd With vifions prompted by intense defire; Fair fields appear below, fuch as he left Far diftant, fuch as he would die to find- He feeks them headlong, and is feen no more.
The fpleen is feldom felt where Flora reigns; The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, And fullen fadnefs that o'erfhade, distort, And mar the face of beauty, when no cause For fuch immeasurable woe appears,
Thefe Flora banishes, and gives the fair
Sweet fmiles and bloom lefs tranfient than her own. It is the conftant revolution, ftale
And taftelefs, of the fame repeated joys, That palls and fatiates, and makes languid life A pedlar's pack, that bows t'e bearer down. Health suffers, and the spirits ebb; the heart Recoils from its own choice-at the full feaft Is famith'd-finds no mufic in the fong, No fmartness in the jet, and wonders why. Yet thousands ftill defire to journey on, Though halt and weary of the path they tread. The paralytic who can hold her cards But cannot play them, borrows a friend's hand To deal and fhuffle, to divide and fort D
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