# The Seasons (Thomson)/Autumn

AUTUMN.
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The Argument.
The subject proposed. Addressed to Mr. Onslow. A prospect of the fields ready for harvest. Reflexions in praise of industry raised by that view. Reaping. A tale relative to it. A harvest storm. Shooting and hunting, their barbarity. A ludicrous account of foxhunting. A view of an orchard. Wall-fruit. A vineyard. A description of fogs, frequent in the latter part of Autumn: whence a digression, enquiring into the rise of fountains and rivers. Birds of season considered, that now shift their habitation. The prodigious number of them that cover the northern and western isles of Scotland. Hence a view of the country. A prospect of the discoloured, fading woods. After a gentle dusky day, moon-light. Autumnal meteors. Morning: to which succeeds a calm, pure, sun-shiny day, such as usually shuts up the season. The harvest being gatherd in, the country dissolved in joy. The whole concludes with a panegyric on a philosophical country life.
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AUTUMN.
Crown'd with the sickle, and the wheaten sheaf, While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, Comes jovial on,—the Doric reed once more, Well pleas'd, I tune. Whate'er the Wintry frost Nitrous prepar'd; the various-blossom'd spring 5 Put in white promise forth; and summer-suns Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view, Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name, To grace, inspire, and dignify her song, 10 Would from the Public Voice thy gentle ear A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows, The patriot virtues that distend thy thought, Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow; While listening senates hang upon thy tongue, 15 Devolving thro' the maze of eloquence A roll of periods, sweeter than her song. But she too pants for public virtue, she, Tho' weak of power, yet strong in ardent will, Whene'er her country rushes on her heart, 20 Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days, And Libra weighs in equal scales the year; From heaven's high cope fierce effulgence shook 25 Of parting Summer, a serener blue, With golden light enliven'd, wide invests The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise, Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft thro' lucid clouds A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below 30 Extensive harvests hang the heavy head. Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain; A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow. 35 Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky; The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun By fits effulgent gilds th' illumin'd field, And black by fits the shadows sweep along. A gaily-checker'd heart-expanding view, 40 Far as the circling eye can shoot around, Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power! Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain; Yet the kind source of every gentle art, 45 And all the soft civility of life: Raiser of human kind! by Nature cast, Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods, And wilds, to rude inclement elements; With various seeds of art deep in the mind 50 Implanted, and profusely pour'd around Materials infinite; but idle all. Still unexerted, in th' unconscious breast, Slept the lethargic powers; corruption still, Voracious, swallowed what the liberal hand 55 Of bounty scatter'd o'er the savage year:
And still the sad barbarian, roving, mix'd With beasts of prey; or for his acorn-meal
Fought the fierce tusky boar; a shivering wretch!
Aghast, and comfortless, when the bleak north, 60 With winter charg'd, let the mix'd tempest fly,
Hail, rain, and snow, and bitter-breathing frost:
Then to shelter of the hut he fled;
And the wild season, sordid, pin'd away.
For home he had not; home is the resort 65 Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,
Supporting and supported, polish'd friends,
And dear relations mingle into bliss.
But this the rugged savage never felt,
Even desolate in crouds; and thus his days 70 Roll'd heavy, dark, and unenjoy'd along;
A waste of time! till Industry approach'd
And rous'd him from his miserable sloth: His faculties unfolded; pointed out,
Where lavish Nature the directing hand 75 Of art demanded; shew'd him how to raise
His feeble force by the mechanic powers,
To dig the mineral from the vaulted earth,
On what to turn the piercing rage of fire,
On what the torrent, and the gather'd blast; 80 Gave the tall ancient forest to his ax;
Taught him to chip the wood, and hew the stone,
Till by degrees the finished fabric rose;
Tore from his limbs the blood-polluted fur,
And wrapt them in the woolly vestment warm, 85 Or bright in glossy silk, and flowing lawn;
With wholesome viands fill'd his table, pour'd
The generous glass around, inspir'd to wake
The life-refining soul of decent wit:
Nor stopp'd at barren bare necessity; 90 But still advancing bolder, led him on
To pomp, to pleasure, elegance, and grace; And, breathing high ambition thro' his soul, Set science, wisdom, glory, in his view, And bad him be the Lord of all below. 95
Then gathering men their natural powers combin'd, And form'd a Public; to the general good Submitting, aiming, and conducting all. For this the Patriot-Council met, the full, The free, and fairly represented Whole; 100 For this they plann'd the holy guardian-laws, Distinguish'd orders, animated arts, And with joint force Oppression chaining, set Imperial Justice at the helm; yet still To them accountable: nor slavish dream'd 105 That toiling millions must resign their weal, And all the honey of their search to such As for themselves alone themselves have rais'd.
Hence every form of cultivated life In order set, protected, and inspir'd, 110 Into perfection wrought. Uniting all, Society grew numerous, high, polite, And happy. Nurse of art! the city rear'd In beauteous pride her tower-encircled head; And, stretching street on street, by thousands drew, 115 From twining woody haunts, or the tough yew To bows strong-straining, her aspiring sons.
Then Commerce brought into the public walk The busy merchant; the big ware-house built; Rais'd the strong crane; choak'd up the loaded street 120 With foreign plenty; and thy stream, O Thames, Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods! Chose for his grand resort. On either hand, Like a long wintry forest, groves of masts
Shot up their spires; the bellying sheet between 125 Possess'd the breezy void; the sooty hulk Steer'd sluggish on; the splendid barge along Row'd, regular, to harmony; around, The boat, light-skimming, stretch'd its oary wings; While deep the various voice of fervent toil 130 From bank to bank increas'd; whence ribb'd with oak, To bear the British Thunder, black, and bold. The roaring vessel rush'd into the main.
Then too the pillar'd dome, magnific, heav'd Its ample roof; and luxury within 135 Pour'd out her glittering stores: the canvas smooth, With glowing life protuberant, to the view Embodied rose; the statue seem'd to breathe, And soften into flesh, beneath the touch Of forming art, imagination-flush'd. 140
All is the gift of Industry; whate'er Exalts, embellishes, and renders life Delightful. Pensive Winter chear'd by him Sits at the social fire, and happy hears Th' excluded tempest idly rave along; 145 His harden'd fingers deck the gaudy Spring; Without him Summer were an arid waste; Nor to th' Autumnal months could thus transmit Those full, mature, immeasurable stores, That, waving round, recall my wandering song. 150
Soon as the morning trembles o'er the sky, And, unperceiv'd, unfolds the spreading day, Before the ripened field the reapers stand, In fair array; each by the lass he loves, To bear the rougher part, and mitigate 155 By nameless gentle offices her toil. At once they stoop and swell the lusty sheaves;
While thro' their chearful band the rural talk The rural scandal, and the rural jest Fly harmless, to deceive the tedious time, 160 And steal unfelt the sultry hours away. Behind the master walks, builds up the shocks; And, conscious, glancing oft on every side His fated eye, feels his heart heave with joy. The gleaners spread around, and here and there, 165 Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick. Be not too narrow, husbandmen! but fling From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth, The liberal handful. Think, oh grateful think! How good the God of Harvest is to you; 170 Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields; While these unhappy partners of your kind Wide-hover round you, like the fowls of heaven, And ask their humble dole. The various turns Of fortune ponder; that your sons may want 175 What now, with hard reluctance, faint, ye give.
The lovely young Lavinia once had friends; And Fortune smil'd, deceitful, on her birth. For in her helpless years depriv'd of all, Of every stay, save innocence and Heaven, 180 She, with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, And poor, liv'd in a cottage, far retir'd Among the windings of a woody vale; By solitude and deep surrounding shades, But more by bashful modesty, conceal'd, 185 Together thus they shunn'd the cruel scorn Which virtue, sunk to poverty, would meet From giddy passion and low-minded, pride: Almost on Nature's common bounty fed; Like the gay birds that sung them to repose, 190 Content, and careless of to-morrow's fare. Her form was fresher than the morning-rose,
When the dew wets its leaves; unstain'd, and pure As is the lily, or the mountain snow. The modest virtues mingled in her eyes, 195 Still on the ground dejected, darting all Their humid beams into the blooming flowers: Or when the mournful tale her mother told, Of what her faithless fortune promis'd once, Thrill'd in her thought, they, like the dewy star 200 Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace Sat fair proportion'd on her polish'd limbs, Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire, Beyond the pomp of dress; for loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, 205 But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most. Thoughtless of beauty, she was beauty's self, Recluse amid the close-embowering woods. As in the hollow breast of Appenine, Beneath the shelter of encircling hills, 210 A myrtle, rises, far from human eye, And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild; So flourish'd blooming, and unseen by all, The sweet Lavinia; till, at length, compell'd By strong Necessity's supreme command, 215 With smiling patience in her looks, she went To glean Palemon's field. The pride of swains Palemon was, the generous, and the rich; Who led the rural life in all its joy, And elegance, such as Arcadian song 220 Transmits from ancient uncorrupted times; When tyrant custom had not shackled Man, But free to follow Nature was the mode. He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes Amusing, chanc'd beside his reaper-train 225 To walk, when poor Lavinia drew his eye; Unconscious of her power, and turning quick
With unaffected blushes from his gaze: He saw her charming, but he saw not half The charms her down-cast modesty conceal'd. 230 That very moment love and chaste desire Sprung in his bosom, to himself unknown; For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh, Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn, Should his heart own a gleaner in the field! 235 And thus in secret to his soul he sigh'd.
"What pity! that so delicate a form, By beauty kindled, where enlivening sense, And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell, Should be devoted to the rude embrace 240 Of some indecent clown! she looks, methinks, Of old Acasto's line; and to my mind Recalls that patron of my happy life, From whom my liberal fortune took its rise; Now to the dust gone down; his houses, lands, 245 And once fair-spreading family dissolv'd. 'Tis said that in some lone obscure retreat, Urg'd by remembrance sad, and decent pride, Far from those scenes which knew their better days, His aged widow and his daughter live, 250 Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. Romantic wish, would this the daughter were!"
When, strict enquiring, from herself he found She was the same, the daughter of his friend, Of bountiful Acasto; who can speak 255 The mingled passions that surpriz'd his heart, And thro' his nerves in shivering transport ran? Then blaz'd his smother'd flame, avow'd, and bold; And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er, Love, gratitude, and pity wept at once. 260
Confus'd, and frightened at his sudden tears, Her rising beauties flush'd a higher bloom, As thus Palemon, passionate, and just, Pour'd out the pious rapture of his soul.
"And art thou then Acasto's dear remains?— 265 She, whom my restless gratitude has sought, So long in vain? oh heavens! the very same, The soften'd image of my noble friend, Alive, his every feature, every look, More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than spring! 270 Thou sole surviving blossom from the root, That nourish'd up my fortune! Say, ah where, In what sequester'd desart, hast thou drawn The kindest aspect of delighted Heaven? Into such beauty spread, and blown so fair; 275 Th o' poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, Beat keen, and heavy, on thy tender years? O let me now, into a richer soil, Transplant thee safe! where vernal suns, and showers, Diffuse their warmest, largest influence; 280 And of my garden be the pride, and joy! It ill befits thee, oh it ill befits Acasto's daughter, his, whose open stores, Tho' vast, were little to his ampler heart, The father of a country, thus to pick 285 The very refuse of those harvest-fields, Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy. Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, But ill apply'd to such a rugged task; The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine; 290 If to the various blessings which thy house Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss. That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee!"
Here ceas'd the youth: yet still his speaking eye Express'd the sacred triumph of his soul, 295 With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love, Above the vulgar, joy divinely rais'd. Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm Of goodness irresistible, and all In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent. 300 The news immediate to her mother brought, While, pierc'd with anxious thought, she pin'd away The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate; Amaz'd, and scarce believing what she heard, Joy seiz'd her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam 305 Of setting life shone on her evening-hours: Not less enraptur'd than the happy pair; Who flourish'd long in tender bliss, and rear'd A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves, And good; the grace of all the country round. 310
Defeating oft the labours of the year, The sultry south collects a potent blast. At first, the groves are scarcely seen to stir Their trembling tops; and a still murmur runs Along the soft-inclining fields of corn: 315 But as th' aërial tempest fuller swells, And in one mighty stream, invisible, Immense, the whole excited atmosphere, Impetuous rushes o'er the founding world; Strain'd to the root, the stooping forest pours 320 A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves. High-beat, the circling mountains eddy in, From the bare wild, the dissipated storm, And send it in a torrent down the vale. Expos'd, and naked, to its utmost rage, 325 Thro' all the sea of harvest rolling round, The billowy plain floats wide; nor can evade,
Tho' pliant to the blast, its seizing force; Or whirl'd in air, or into vacant chaff Shook waste. And sometimes too a burst of rain, 330 Swept from the black horizon, broad, descends In one continuous flood. Still over head The mingling tempest weaves its gloom, and still The deluge deepens; till the fields around Lie sunk, and flatted, in the sordid wave. 335 Sudden, the ditches swell; the meadows swim. Red, from the hills, innumerable streams Tumultuous roar; and high above its banks The river lift; before whose rushing tide, Herds, flocks, and harvests, cottages, and swains, 340 Roll mingled down; all that the winds had spar'd, In one wild moment ruin'd, the big hopes, And well-earn'd treasures of the painful year. Fled to some eminene, the husbandman, Helpless beholds the miserable wreck 345 Driving along; his drowning ox at once Descending, with his labours scatter'd round, He sees; and instant o'er his shivering thought Comes winter unprovided, and a train Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, then, 350 Be mindful of the rough laborious hand, That sinks you soft in elegance and ease; Be mindful of those limbs, in russet clad, Whose toil to yours is warmth, and graceful pride; And oh be mindful of that sparing board, 355 Which covers yours with luxury profuse, Makes your glass sparkle, and your senfe rejoice! Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains, And all-involving winds have swept away.
Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy, 360 The gun fast-thundering, and the winded horn,
Would tempt the Muse to sing the rural Game: How, in his mid-career, the spaniel struck, Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose, Outstretch'd, and finely sensible, draws full, 365 Fearful, and cautious, on the latent prey; As in the sun the circling covey bask Their varied plumes, and watchful every way Thro' the rough stubble turn the secret eye. Caught in the meshy snare, in vain they beat 370 Their idle wings, intangled more and more: Nor on the surges of the boundless air, Tho' borne triumphant, are they safe; the gun, Glanc'd just, and sudden, from the fowler's eye, O'ertakes their sounding pinions; and again, 375 Immediate, brings them from the towering wing, Dead to the ground; or drives them wide-dispers'd, Wounded, and wheeling various, down the wind.
These are not subjects for the peaceful Muse, Nor will she stain with such her spotless song; 380 Then most delighted, when she social sees The whole mix'd animal-creation round Alive, and happy. 'Tis not joy to her, This falsely-cheerful barbarous game of death; This rage of pleasure, which the restless youth 385
Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn; When beasts of prey retire, that all night long, Urg'd by necessity, had rang'd the dark, As if their conscious ravage shun'd the light, Asham'd. Not so the steady tyrant man, 390 Who with the thoughtless insolence of power Inflam'd, beyond the most infuriate wrath Of the worst monster that e'er roam'd the waste, For sport alone pursues the cruel chace, Amid the beamings of the gentle days. 395
Ubraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage, For hunger kindles you, and lawless want; But lavish fed, in Nature's bounty roll'd, To joy at anguish, and delight in blood, Is what your horrid bosoms never knew. 400
Poor is the triumph o'er the timid hare! Scar'd from the corn, and now to some lone feat Retir'd: the rushy fen; the ragged furze, Stretch'd o'er the stony heath: the stubble chapt; The thistly lawn; the thick entangled broom; 405 Of the same friendly hue, the wither'd fern: The fallow ground laid open to the sun, Concoctive; and the nodding sandy bank, Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain-brook. Vain is her best precaution; tho' she sits 410 Conceal'd, with folded ears; unsleeping eyes, By Nature rais'd to take th' horizon in; And head couch'd close betwixt her hairy feet, In act to spring away. The scented dew Betrays her early labyrinth; and deep, 415 In scatter'd sullen openings, far behind, With every breeze she hears the coming storm. But nearer, and more frequent, as it loads The sighing gale, she springs amaz'd, and all The savage soul of game is up at once: 420 The pack full-opening, various; the shrill horn, Resounded from the hills; the neighing steed, Wild for the chace; and the loud hunter's shout; O'er a weak, harmless, flying creature, all Mix'd in mad tumult, and discordant joy. 425
The stag too, singled from the herd, where long He rang'd the branching monarch of the shades, Before the tempest drives. At first, in speed He, sprightly, puts his faith; and, rous'd by fear
Gives all his swift aërial soul to flight. 430 Against the breeze he darts, that way the more To leave the lessening murderous cry behind. Deception short! tho' fleeter than the winds Blown o'er the keen-air'd mountain by the north, He bursts the thickets, glances thro' the glades, 435 And plunges deep into the wildest wood; If slow, yet sure, adhesive to the track Hot-steaming, up behind him come again Th' inhuman rout, and from the shady depth Expel him, circling thro' his every shift. 440 He sweeps the forest oft; and sobbing sees The glades, mild-opening to the golden day; Where, in kind contest, with his butting friends He wont to struggle, or his loves enjoy. Oft in the full-descending flood he tries 445 To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides; Oft seeks the herd; the watchful herd, alarm'd, With selfish care avoid a brother's woe. What shall he do? his once so vivid nerves, So full of buoyant spirit, now no more 450 Inspire the course; but fainting breathless toil, Sick, seizes on his heart: he stands at bay; And puts his last weak refuge in despair. The big round tears run down his dappled face; He groans in anguish; while the growling pack, 455 Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest, And mark his beauteous chequer'd sides with gore.
Of this enough. But if the sylvan youth Whose fervent blood boils into violence, Must have the chace; behold, despising flight, 460 The rous'd-up lion, resolute, and slow, Advancing full on the protended spear, And coward-band, that circling wheel aloof.
Slunk from the cavern, and the troubled wood, See the grim wolf; on him his fhaggy foe 465 Vindictive fix, and let the ruffian die: Or, growling horrid, as the brindled boar Grins fell destruction, to the monster's heart Let the dart lighten from the nervous arm.
These Britain knows not; give, ye Britons, then 470 Your sportive fury, pityless, to pour Loose on the nightly robber of the fold: Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearth'd, Let all the thunder of of the chace pursue. Throw the broad ditch behind you; o'er the hedge 475 High-bound, resistless; nor the deep morass Refuse, but thro' the shaking wilderness Pick your nice way; into the perilous flood Bear fearless, of the raging instinct full; And as you ride the torrent, to the banks 480 Your triumph sound sonorous, running round, From rock to rock, in circling echos tost; Then scale the mountains to their woody tops; Rush down the dangerous steep; and o'er the lawn, In fancy swallowing up the space between, 485 Pour all your speed into the rapid game. For happy he! who tops the wheeling chace; Has every maze evolv'd, and every guile Disclos'd; who knows the merits of the pack, Who saw the villain seiz'd, and dying hard, 490 Without complaint, tho' by an hundred mouths Relentless torn: o glorious he, beyond His daring peers! when the retreating horn Calls them to ghostly halls of grey renown, With woodland honours grac'd; the fox's fur, 495 Depending decent from the roof; and spread Round the drear walls, with antick figures fierce,
The stag's large front: he then is loudest heard, When the night staggers with severer toils, With feats Thessalian Centaurs never knew, 500 And their repeated wonders shake the dome.
But first the fuel'd chimney blazes wide; The tankards foam; and the strong table groans Beneath the smoaking sirloin, stretch'd immense From side to side; in which, with desperate knife. 505 They deep incision make, and talk the while Of England's glory, ne'er to be defac'd, While hence they borrow vigour: or amain Into the pasty plung'd, at intervals, If stomach keen can intervals allow, 510 Relating all the glories of the chace. Then sated Hunger bids his brother Thirst Produce the mighty bowl; the mighty bowl, Swell'd high with fiery juice, steams liberal round A potent gale, delicious as the breath 515 Of Maia, to the love-sick shepherdess, On violets diffus'd, while soft she hears Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn Mature and perfect, from his dark retreat 520 Of thirty years; and now his honest front Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid Even with the vineyard's best produce to vie. To cheat the thirsty moments, whist a while Walks his dull round, beneath a cloud of smoak, 525 Wreath'd fragrant from the pipe; or the quick dice, In thunder leaping from the box, awake The sounding gammon: while romp-loving miss Is haul'd about, in gallantry robust.
At last these puling idlenesses laid 530 Aside, frequent and full, the dry divan
Close in firm circle; and set, ardent, in For serious drinking. Nor evasion fly, Nor sober shift, is to the puking wretch Indulg'd apart; but earnest, brimming bowls 535 Lave every soul, the table floating round, And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot. Thus as they swim in mutual swill, the talk, Vociferous at once from twenty tongues, Reels fast from theme to theme; from horses, hounds, 540 To church or mistress, politicks or ghost, In endless mazes, intricate, perplex'd. Mean-time, with sudden interruption, loud, Th' impatient catch bursts from the joyous heart: That moment touch'd is every kindred soul; 545 And, opening in a full-mouth'd Cry of joy. The laugh, the slap, the jocund curse go round; While from their slumbers shook, the kennel'd hounds Mix in the music of the day again. As when the tempest, that has vex'd the deep 550 The dark night long with fainter murmurs falls: So gradual sinks their mirth. Their feeble tongues, Unable to take up the cumbrous word, Lie quite dissolv'd. Before their maudlin eyes, Seen dim, and blue, the double tapers dance, 555 Like the sun wading thro' the misty sky. Then, sliding soft, they drop. Confus'd above, Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazetteers, As if the table even itself was drunk, Lie a wet broken scene; and wide, below, 560 Is heap'd the social daughter: where astride The lubber Power in filthy triumph sits, Slumbrous, inclining still from side to side, And steeps them drench'd in potent sleep till morn. Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch, 565 Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink,
Out-lives them all; and from his bury'd flock Retiring, full of rumination sad, Laments the weakness of these latter times.
But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport 570 Is hurrie'd wild, let not such horrid joy E'er stain the bosom of the British Fair. Far be the spirit of the chace from them! Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill; To spring the fence, to rein the prancing steed; 575 The cap, the whip, the masculine attire, In which they roughen to the sense, and all The winning softness of their sex is lost. In them 'tis graceful to dissolve at woe; With every motion, every word, to wave 580 Quick o'er the kindling cheek the ready blush; And from the smallest violence to shrink, Unequal, then the loveliest in their fears; And by this silent adulation, soft, To their protection more engaging Man. 585 O may their eyes no miserable sight, Save weeping lovers, see! a nobler game, Thro' Love's enchanting wiles pursu'd, yet fled, In chace ambiguous. May their tender limbs Float in the loose simplicity of dress! 590 And, fashion'd all to harmony, alone Know they to seize the captivated soul, In rapture warbled from love-breathing lips; To teach the lute to languish; with smooth step, Disclosing motion in its every charm, 595 To swim along, and swell the mazy dance; To train the foliage o'er the snowy lawn; To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page; To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, And heighten Nature's dainties; in their race 600
To rear their graces into second life; To give Society its highest taste; Well-order'd Home Man's best delight to make; And by submissive wisdom, modest skill, With every gentle care-eluding art, 705 To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, And sweeten all the toils of human life: This be the female dignity, and praise.
Ye swains now hasten to the hazel-bank; Where, down yon dale, the wildly-winding brook 610 Falls hoarse from steep to steep. In close array, Fit for the thickets, and the tangling shrub, Ye virgins, come. For you their latest song The woodlands raise; the clustring nuts for you The lover finds amid the secret shade; 615 And, where they burnish on the topmost bough, With active vigour crushes down the tree; Or shakes them ripe from the resigning husk, A glossy shower, and of an ardent brown, As are the ringlets of Melinda's hair: 620 Melinda! form'd with every grace complete, Yet these neglecting, above beauty wife, And far transcending such a vulgar praise.
Hence from the busy joy-resounding fields, In chearful error, let us tread the maze 625 Of Autumn, unconfin'd; and taste, reviv'd, The breath of orchard big with bending fruit. Obedient to the breeze and beating ray, From the deep loaded bough a mellow shower Incessant melts away. The juicy pear 630 Lies, in a soft profusion, scatter'd round. A various sweetness swells the gentle race; In species different, but in kind the same,
By Nature's all-refining hand prepar'd; Of temper'd sun, and water, earth, and air, 635 In ever-changing composition mixt. Such, falling frequent thro' the chiller night, The fragrant stores, the wide-projected heaps Of Apples, which the lusty-handed year, Innumerous, o'er the blushing orchard shakes. 640 A various spirit, fresh, delicious, keen, Dwells in their gelid pores; and, active, points The piercing cyder for the thirsty tongue: Thy native theme, and boon inspirer too, Phillips, Pomona's bard, the second thou 645 Who nobly durst, in rhyme-unfetter'd verse, With British freedom sing the British song; How, from Silurian vats, high-sparkling wines Foam in transparent floods; some strong, to cheer The wintry revels of the labouring hind; 650 And tasteful some, to cool the summer-hours.
In this glad season, while his sweetest beams The sun sheds equal o'er the meekened day; Oh lose me in the green delightful walks Of, Dodington! thy seat, serene and plain; 655 Where simple Nature reigns; and every view, Diffusive, spreads the pure Dorsetian downs, In boundless prospect; yonder shagg'd with wood, Here rich with harvest, and there white with flocks! Mean time the grandeur of thy lofty dome, 660 Far-splendid, seizes on the ravish'd eye. New beauties rise with each revolving day; New columns swell; and still the fresh Spring finds New plants to quicken, and new groves to green. Full of thy genius all! the Muses' seat; 665 Where in the secret bower, and winding walk, For virtuous Young and thee they twine the bay.
Here wandering oft, fir'd with the restless thirst Of thy applause, I solitary court Th' inspiring breeze; and meditate the book 670 Of Nature, ever open; aiming thence, Warm from the heart, to learn the moral song. Here, as I steal along the sunny wall, Where Autumn basks, with fruit empurpled deep My pleasing theme continual prompts my thought; 675 Presents the downy peach; the shining plum, The ruddy fragrant nectarine; and dark, Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious fig. The vine too here her curling tendrils shoots; Hangs out her clusters, glowing to the south; 680 And scarcely wishes for a warmer sky.
Turn we a moment Fancy's rapid flight To vigorous soils, and climes of fair extent; Where, by the potent sun elated high, The vineyard swells refulgent on the day; 685 Spreads o'er the vale; or up the mountain climbs, Profuse; and drinks amid the sunny rocks, From cliff to cliff increas'd, the heighten'd blaze. Low bend the weighty boughs. The clusters clear, Half thro' the foliage seen, or ardent flame, 690 Or shine transparent; while perfection breathes White o'er the turgent film the living dew. As thus they brighten with exalted juice, Touch'd into flavour by the mingling ray; The rural youth and virgins o'er the field, 695 Each fond for each to cull th' autumnal prime, Exulting rove, and speak the vintage nigh. Then comes the crushing swain; the country floats, And foams unbounded with the mashy flood; That by degrees fermented, and refin'd, 700 Round the rais'd nations pours the cup of joy:
The claret smooth, red as the lip we press, In sparkling fancy, while we drain the bowl; The mellow-tailed burgundy; and quick, As is the wit it gives, the gay champaign. 705
Now, by the cool declining year condens'd, Descend the copious exhalations, check'd As up the middle sky unseen they stole, And roll the doubling fogs around the hill. No more the mountain, horrid, vast, sublime, 710 Who pours a sweep of rivers from his sides, And high between contending kingdoms rears The rocky long division, fills the view With great variety; but in a night Of gathering vapour, from the baffled sense, 715 Sinks dark and dreary. Thence expanding far, The huge dusk, gradual, swallows up the plain: Vanish the woods. The dim-seen river seems Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave. Even in the height of noon opprest, the sun 720 Sheds weak, and blunt, his wide-refracted ray; Whence glaring oft, with many a broadened orb, He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth, Seen thro' the turbid air, beyond the life, Objects appear; and, wilder'd, o'er the waste 725 The shepherd stalks gigantic. Till at last Wreath'd dun around, in deeper circles still Successive closing, sits the general fog Unbounded o'er the world; and, mingling thick, A formless grey confusion covers all. 730 As when of old (so sung the Hebrew Bard) Light, uncollected, thro' chaos urg'd Its infant way; nor Order yet had drawn His lovely train from out the dubious gloom.
These roving mists, that constant now begin 735 To smoak along the hilly country, these,
With weighty rains, and melted Alpine snows, The mountain-cisterns fill, those ample stores Of water, scoop'd among the hollow rocks: Whence gush the streams, the ceaseless fountains play, 740 And their unfailing wealth the rivers draw. Some sages say, that, where the numerous wave For ever lashes the resounding shore, Drill'd thro' the sandy stratum, every way, The waters with the sandy stratum rise; 745 Amid whose angles infinitely strain'd, They joyful leave their jaggy salts behind, And clear and sweeten, as they soak along. Nor stops the restless fluid, mounting still, Tho' oft amidst th' irriguous vale it springs; 740 But to the mountain courted by the sand, That leads it darkling on in faithful maze, Far from the parent-main, it boils again Fresh into day; and all the glittering hill Is bright with spouting rills. But hence this vain 745 Amusive dream! why should the waters love To take so far a journey to the hills, When the sweet valleys offer to their toil Inviting quiet, and a nearer bed? Or if, by blind ambition led astray, 750 They must aspire; why should they sudden stop Among the broken mountain's rushy dells, And, ere they gain its highest peak, desert Th' attractive sand that charm'd their course so long? Besides, the hard agglomerating salts, 755 The spoil of ages, would impervious choak Their secret channels; or, by slow degrees, High as the hills protrude the swelling vales: Old Ocean too, suck'd thro' the porous globe, Had long ere now forsook his horrid bed, 760 And brought Deucalion's watry times again.
Say then, where lurk the vast eternal springs, That, like creating Nature, lie conceal'd From mortal eye, yet with their lavish stores Refresh the globe, and all its joyous tribes? 765 O thou pervading Genius, given to Man, To trace the secrets of the dark abyss, O lay the mountains bare! and wide display Their hidden structure to th' astonish'd view! Strip from the branching Alps their piny load, 770 The huge incumbrance of horrific woods From Asian Taurus, from Imaus stretch'd Athwart the roving Tartar's sullen bounds! Give opening Hemus to my searching eye, And high Olympus pouring many a stream! 775 O from the sounding summits of the north, The Dofrine Hills, thro' Scandinavia roll'd To farthest Lapland and the frozen main; From lofty Caucasus, far seen by those Who in the Caspian and black Euxine toil; 780 From cold Riphean Rocks, which the wild Russ Believes thestony girdle of the world; And all the dreadful mountains, wrapt in storm, Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods; O sweep th' eternal snows! hung o'er the deep 785 That ever works beneath his sounding base, Bid Atlas, propping heaven, as poets feign, His subterranean wonders spread! unveil The miny caverns, blazing on the day, Of Abyssinia's cloud-compelling cliffs, 790 And of the bendingMountains of the Moon!
Overtopping all these giant-sons of earth, Let the dire Andes, from the radiant Line Stretch'd to the stormy seas that thunder round The southern pole, their hideous deeps unfold! 795 Amazing scene! Behold! the glooms disclose. I see the rivers in their infant beds! Deep, deep I hear them, lab'ring to get free! I see the leaning strata, artful rang'd; The gaping fissures to receive the rains, 800 The melting snows, and ever-dripping fogs. Strow'd bibulous above I see the sands, The pebbly gravel next, the layers then Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths. The gutter'd rocks and mazy-running clefts; 805 That, while the stealing moisture they transmit, Retard its motion, and forbid its waste. Beneath th' incessant weeping of these drains, I see the rocky siphons stretch'd immense, The mighty reservoirs, of harden'd chalk, 810 Or stiff compacted clay, capacious form'd. O'erflowing thence, the congregated stores, The crystal treasures of the liquid world, Thro' the stirr'd sends a bubbling passage burst; And welling out, the middle steep, 815 Or from the bottoms of the bosom'd hills, In pure effusion flow. United, thus, Th' exhaling sun, the vapour-burden'd air, The gelid mountains, that to rain condens'd These vapours in continual current draw, 820 And send them, o'er the fair-divided earth, In bounteous rivers to the deep again, A social commerce hold, and firm support The full-adjusted harmony of things.
When Autumn scatters his departing gleams, 825 Warn'd of approaching Winter, gather'd, play The swallow-people; and toss'd wide around, O'er the calm sky, in convolution swift, The feather'd eddy floats: rejoicing once, Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire; 830 In clusters clung, beneath the mouldring bank, And where, unpierc'd by frost, the cavern sweats. Or rather into warmer climes convey'd, With other kindred birds of season, there They twitter chearful, till the vernal months 835 Invite them welcome back: for, thronging, now Innumerous wings are in commotion all.
Where the Rhine loses his majestic force In Belgian plains, won from the raging deep, By diligence amazing, and the strong 840 Unconquerable hand of Liberty, The stork-assembly meets; for many a day, Consulting deep, and various, ere they take Their arduous voyage thro' the liquid sky And now their rout design'd, their leaders chose, 845 Their tribes adjusted, clean'd their vigorous wings; And many a circle, many a short essay, Wheel'd round and round, in congregation full, The figur'd flight ascends; and, riding high Th' aërial billows, mixes with the clouds. 850
Or where the Northern ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked melancholy isles Of farthest Thule, and th' Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides; Who can recount what transmigrations there 855 Are annual made? what nations come and go? And how the living clouds on clouds arise?
Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air, And rude resounding shore are one wild cry.
Here the plain harmless native his small flock, 860 And herd diminutive of many hues, Tends on the little island's verdant swell, The shepherd's sea-girt reign; or, to the rocks Dire-clinging, gathers his ovarious food; Or sweeps the fishy shore; or treasures up 865 The plumage, rising full, to form the bed Of luxury. And here a while the Muse, High-hovering o'er the broad cerulean scene, Sees Caledonia, in romantic view: Her airy mountains, from the waving main, 870 Invested with a keen diffusive sky, Breathing the soul acute; her forests huge, Incult, robust, and tall, by Nature's hand Planted of old: her azure lakes between, Pour'd out extensive, and of watry wealth 875 Full; winding deep, and green, her fertile vales; With many a cool translucent brimming flood Wash'd lovely, from the Tweed (pure parent-stream, Whose pastoral banks first wak'd my Doric reed, With, silvan Jed, thy tributary brook) 880 To where the north-inflated tempest foams O'er Orca's or Betubium's highest peak: Nurse of a people, in misfortune's school Train'd up to hardy deeds; soon visited By Learning, when before the Gothic rage 885 She took her western flight. A manly race, Of unsubmitting spirit, wise, and brave; Who still thro' bleeding ages struggled hard, (As well unhappy Wallace can attest, Great patriot-hero! ill-requited chief!) 890
To hold a generous undiminish'd state; Too much in vain! hence of unequals bounds Impatient, and by tempting glory borne O'er every land, for every land their life Has flow'd profuse, their piercing genius plan'd, 895 And swell'd the pomp of peace their faithful toil. As from their own clear north, in radiant streams, Bright over Europe bursts the Boreal Morn.
Oh is there not some patriot, in whose power That best, that godlike luxury is placed, 900 Of blessing thousands, thousands yet unborn, Thro' late posterity? some, large of soul, To chear dejected industry? to give A double harvest to the pining swain? And teach the labouring hand the sweets of toil? 905 How, by the finest art, the native robe To weave; how, white as hyperborean snow, To form the lucid lawn; with venturous oar, How to dash wide the billow; nor look on, Shamefully passive, while Batavian fleets 910 Defraud us of the glittering finny swarms. That heave our friths, and croud upon our shores; How all-enlivening trade to rouse, and wing The prosperous fail, from, every growing port, Uninjur'd, round the sea-incircled globe; 915 And thus, in soul united as in name, Bid Britain reign the mistress of the deep.
Yes, there are such. And full on thee, Argile, Her hope, her stay, her darling, and her boast, From her first patriots and her heroes sprung, 920 Thy fond imploring country turns her eye: In thee, with all a mother's triumph, sees Her every virtue, every grace combin'd,
Her genius, wisdom, her engaging turn, Her pride of honour, and her courage try'd, 925 Calm, and intrepid, in the very throat Of sulphurous war, on Tenier's dreadful field. Nor less the palm of peace inwreathes thy brow: For, powerful as thy sword, from thy rich tongue Persuasion flows, and wins the high debate; 930 While mix'd in thee combine the charm of youth, The force of manhood, and the depth of age. Thee, Forbes, too, whom every worth attends, As truth sincere, as weeping friendship kind, Thee, truly generous, and in silence great, 935 Thy country feels thro' her reviving arts, Plann'd by thy wisdom, by thy soul inform'd; And seldom has she felt a friend like thee.
But see the fading many-colour'd woods, Shade deepening over shade, the country round 940 Imbrown; a crouded umbrage, dusk, and dun, Of every hue, from wan declining green To sooty dark. These now the lonesome Muse, Low-whispering, lead into their leaf-strown walks, And give the season in its latest view. 945
Mean-time, light-shadowing all, a sober calm Fleeces unbounded ether; whose least wave Stands tremulous, uncertain where to turn The gentle current: while illumin'd wide, The dewy-skirted clouds imbibe the sun, 950 And thro' their lucid veil his softened force Shed o'er the peaceful world. Then is the time, For those whom wisdom and whom Nature charm, To steal themselves from the degenerate croud, And soar above this little scene of things; 955 To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet;
To soothe the throbbing passions into peace; And woe lone Quiet in her silent walks.
Thus solitary, and in pensive guise, Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead; 960 And thro' the saddened grove, where scarce is heard One dying strain, to chear the woodman's toil. Haply some widowed songster pours his plaint, Far, in faint warblings, thro' the tawny copse. While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks, 965 And each wild throat, whose artless strains so late Swell'd all the music of the swarming shades, Robb'd of their tuneful souls, now shivering sit On the dead tree, a full despondent flock; With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes, 970 And nought save chattering discord in their note. O let not, aim'd from some inhuman eye, The gun the music of the coming year Destroy; and harmless, unsuspecting harm, Lay the weak tribes, a miserable prey, 975 In mingled murder, fluttering on the ground!
The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, A gentler mood inspires; for now the leaf Incessant rustless from the mournful grove; Oft startling such as, studious, walk below, 980 And slowly circles thro' the waving air. But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams; Till choak'd, and matted with the dreary shower, The forest-walks, at every rising gale, 985 Roll wide the wither'd waste, and whittle bleak. Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields; And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race Their sunny robes resign, Even what remain'd
Of bolder fruits falls from the naked tree; 990 And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around The defoliated prospect thrills the soul.
He comes! he comes! in every breeze the Power Of Philosophic Melancholy comes! His near approach the sudden-starting tear, 995 The glowing cheek, the mild dejected air, The softened feature, and the beating heart, Pierc'd deep with many a virtuous pang, declare. O'er all the soul his sacred influence breathes! Inflames imagination; thro' the breast 1000 Infuses every tenderness; and far Beyond dim earth exalts the swelling thought. Ten thousand thousand fleet ideas, such As never mingled with the vulgar dream, Croud fast into the Mind's creative eye. 1005 As fast the correspondent passions rise, As varied, and as high: devotion rais'd To rapture, and divine astonishment; The love of Nature unconfin'd, and, chief, Of human race; the large ambitious wish, 1010 To make them blest; the sigh for suffering worth, Lost in obscurity; the noble scorn, Of tyrant pride, the fearless great resolve; The wonder which the dying patriot draws, Inspiring glory thro' remotest time; 1015 Th' awakened throb for virtue, and for fame; The sympathies of love, and friendship dear; With all the social Offspring of the heart.
Oh bear me then to vast embowering shades, To twilight groves, and visionary vales; 1020 To weeping grottoes, and prophetic glooms; Where angel-forms athwart the solemn dusk,
Tremendous sweep, or seem to sweep along; And voices more than human, thro' the void Deep-sounding, seize th' enthusiastic ear! 1025
Or is this gloom too much? Then lead, ye powers, That o'er the garden and the rural seat Preside, which shining thro' the chearful land In countless numbers blest Britannia sees; O lead me to the wide-extended walks, 1030 The fair majestic paradise of Stowe! Not Persian Cyrus, on Ionia's shore, E'er saw such silvan scenes; such various art By genius fir'd, such ardent genius tam'd By cool judicious art; that in the strife, 1035 All-beauteous Nature fears to be outdone. And there, O Pitt, thy country's early boast, There let me sit beneath the sheltered slopes, Or in thatTemple where, in future times, Thou well shalt merit a distinguish'd name; 1040 And, with thy converse blest, catch the last smiles Of Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods. While there with thee th' inchanted round I walk. The regulated wild, gay Fancy then Will tread in thought the groves of Attic land; 1045 Will from thy standard taste refine her own, Correct her pencil to the purest truth Of Nature, or, the unimpassion'd shades Forsaking, raise it to the human mind. Or if hereafter she, with juster hand, 1050 Shall draw the tragic scene, instruct her thou, To mark the varied movements of the heart, What every decent character requires,
And every passion speaks: O thro' her strain Breathe thy pathetic eloquence! that moulds 1055 Th' attentive senate, charms, persuades, exalts, Of honest zeal th' indignant lightning throws, And shakes corruption on her venal throne. While thus we talk, and thro' Elysian Vales Delighted rove, perhaps a sigh escapes: 1060 What pity, Cobham, thou thy verdant files Of ordered trees shouldst here inglorious range, Instead of squadrons flaming o'er the field, And long-embattled hosts! when the proud foe The faithless vain disturber of mankind, 1065 Insulting Gaul, has rous'd the world to war; When keen, once more, within their bounds to press Those polish'd robbers, those ambitious slaves, The British Youth would hail thy wise command, Thy temper'd ardor and thy veteran skill. 1070
The western sun withdraws the shortened day; And humid evening, gliding o'er the sky, In her chill progress, to the ground condens'd The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooze, Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind, 1075 Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along The dusky-mantled lawn. Mean-while the moon Full-orb'd, and breaking thro' the scatter'd clouds, Shews her broad visage in the crimson'd east. Turn'd to the sun direct, her spotted disk, 1080 Where mountains rise, umbrageous dales descend, And caverns deep, as optic tube descries, A smaller earth, gives us his blaze again, Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day. Now thro' the passing cloud she seems to stoop, 1085 Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime.
Wide the pale deluge floats, and streaming mild O'er the sky'd mountain to the shadowy vale, While rocks and floods reflect the quivering gleam, The whole air whitens with a boundless tide 1090 Of silver radiance, trembling round the world.
But when half-blotted from the sky her light, Fainting, permits the starry fires to burn, With keener luster thro' the depth of heaven; Or near extinct her deadened orb appears, 1095 And scarce appears, of sickly beamless white; Oft in this season, silent from the north A blaze of meteors shoots: ensweeping first The lower skies, they all at once converge High to the crown of heaven, and all at once 1100 Relapsing quick as quickly reascend, And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew, All ether coursing in a maze of light.
From look to look, contagious thro' the croud, The panic runs, and into wondrous shapes 1105 Th' appearance throws: armies in meet array, Throng'd with aërial spears, and steeds of fire; Till the long lines of full-extended war In bleeding sight commixt, the sanguine flood Rolls a broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven. 1110 As thus they scan the visionary scene, On all sides swells the superstitious din, Incontinent; and busy frenzy talks Of blood and battle; cities over-turn'd, And late at night in swallowing earthquake sunk, 1115 Or hideous wrapt in fierce ascending flame; Of fallow famine, inundation, storm; Of pestilence, and every great distress;
Empires subvers'd, when ruling fate has struck Th' unalterable hour: even Nature's self 1120 Is deem'd to totter on the brink of time. Not so the Man of philosophic eye, And inspect sage; the waving brightness he Curious surveys, inquisitive to know The causes, and materials, yet unfix'd, 1125 Of this appearance beautiful and new.
Now black, and deep, the night begins to fall,
A shade immense. Sunk in the quenching gloom, Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth. Order confounded lies; all beauty void; 1130 Distinction lost: and gay variety One universal blot: such the fair power Of light, to kindle and create the whole. Drear is the state of the benighted wretch, Who then bewildered wanders through the dark, 1135 Full of pale fancies, and chimeras huge; Nor visited by one directive ray, From cottage streaming, or from airy hall. Perhaps impatient as he stumbles on, Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue, 1140 The wild-fire scatters round, or gathered trails A length of flame deceitful o'er the moss; Whither decoyed by the fantastic blaze, Now lost and now renewed, he sinks absorpt, Rider and horse, amid the miry gulph: 1045 While still, from day to day, his pining wife, And plaintive children his return await, In wild conjecture lost. At other times, Sent by the better Genius of the night, Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane, 1150 The meteor sits, and shews the narrow path,
That winding leads thro' pits of death, or else Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford.
The lengthen'd night elaps'd, the morning shines Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright, 1155 Unfolding fair the last autumnal day. And now the mounting sun dispels the fog; The rigid hoar-frost melts before his beam; And hung on every spray, on every blade Of grass, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round. 1160
Ah see where robb'd, and murder'd, in that pit, Lies the frill heaving hive! at evening snatch'd, Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, And fix'd o'er sulphur: while, not dreaming ill, The happy people, in their waxen cells, 1165 Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes Of temperance, for Winter poor; rejoic'd To mark, full-flowing round, their copious stores. Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends; And, us'd to milder scents, the tender race, 1170 By thousands, tumble from their honey'd domes, Convolv'd, and agonizing in the dust. And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring, Intent from flower to flower? for this you toil'd Ceaseless the burning Summer-heats away? 1175 For this in Autumn search'd the blooming waste, Nor lost one funny gleam? for this sad fate? O Man! tyrannic lord! how long, how long, Shall prostrate Nature groan beneath your rage, Awaiting renovation? when obliged, 1180 Must you destroy? of their ambrosial food Can you not borrow; and, in just return, Afford them shelter from the wintry winds;
Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own Again regale them on some smiling day? 1185 See where the stony bottom of their town Looks desolate, and wild; with here and there A helpless number, who the ruin'd state Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. Thus a proud city, populous and rich, 1190 Full of the works of peace, and high in joy, At theater or feast, or sunk in sleep, (As late, Palermo, was thy Fate) is seiz'd By some dread earthquake, and convulsive hurl'd, Sheer from the black foundation, stench-involv'd, 1195 Into a gulph of blue sulphureous flame.
Hence every harsher sight! for now the day, O'er heaven and earth diffus'd, grows warm, and high, Infinite splendor! wide investing all. How still the breeze! save what the filmy threads 1200 Of dew evaporate brushes from the plain. How clear the cloudless sky! how deeply ting'd With a peculiar blue! th' ethereal arch How swell'd immense! amid whose azure thron'd The radiant sun how gay! how calm below 1205 The gilded earth! the harvest-treasures all Now gather'd in, beyond the rage of storms, Sure to the swain; the circling fence shut up; And instant Winter's utmost rage defy'd. While, loose to festive joy, the country round 1210 Laughs with the loud sincerity of mirth, Shook to the wind their cares. The toil-strung youth By the quick sense of music taught alone, Leaps wildly graceful in the lively dance. Her every charm abroad, the village-toast, 1215 Young, buxom, warm, in native beauty rich,
Darts not-unmeaning looks; and, where her eye Points an approving smile, with double force, The cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines. Age too shines out; and, garrulous, recounts 1220 The feats of youth. Thus they rejoice; nor think That, with to-morrow's sun, their annual toil Begins again the never-ceasing round.
Oh knew he but his happiness, of Men The happiest he! who far from public rage, 1225 Deep in the vale, with a choice Few retir'd, Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life. What tho' the dome be wanting, whose proud gate, Each morning, vomits out the sneaking crowd Of flatterers false, and in their turn abus'd? 1230 Vile intercourse! What tho' the glittering robe, Of every hue reflected light can give, Or floating loose, or stiff with mazy gold, The pride and gaze of fools! oppress him not? What tho', from utmost land and sea purvey'd, 1235 For him each rarer tributary life Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps With luxury, and death? What tho' his bowl Flames not with costly juice; nor sunk in beds, Oft of gay care, he tosses out the night, 1240 Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state? What tho' he knows not those fantastic joys, That still amuse the wanton, still deceive; A face of pleasure, but a heart of pain; Their hollow moments undelighted all? 1245 Sure peace is his; a solid life, estrang'd To disappointment, and fallacious hope: Rich in content, in Nature's bounty rich, In herbs and fruits: whatever greens the Spring,
When heaven descends in showers; or bends the bough, 1250 When Summer reddens, and when Autumn beams; Or in the wintry glebe whatever lies Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap: These are not wanting; nor the milky drove, Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale; 1255 Nor bleating mountains; nor the chide of streams, And hum of bees, inviting sleep sincere Into the guiltless breast, beneath the shade, Or thrown at large amid the fragrant hay: Nor ought besides of prospect, grove, or song, 1260 Dim grottos, gleaming lakes, and fountain clear. Here too dwells simple truth; plain innocence; Unsullied beauty; found unbroken youth, Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd; Health ever-blooming; unambitious toil; 1265 Calm contemplation, and poetic ease.
Let others brave the flood, in quest of gain, And beat, for joyless months, the gloomy wave. Let such as deem it glory to destroy, Rush into blood, the sack of cities seek; 1270 Unpierc'd, exulting in the widow's wail, The virgin's shriek, and infant's trembling cry. Let some, far-distant from their native foil, Urg'd or by want or harden'd avarice, Find other lands beneath another sun. 1275 Let this thro' cities work his eager way, By legal outrage, and establish'd guile, The social sense extinct; and that ferment Mad into tumult the seditious herd, Or melt them down to slavery. Let these 1280 Insnare the wretched in the toils of law, Fomenting discord, and perplexing right,
An iron race! and those of fairer front, But equal inhumanity, in courts, Delusive pomp, and dark cabals, delight; 1285 Wreathe the deep bow, diffuse the lying smile, And tread the weary labyrinth of state. While he, from all the stormy passions free That restless Men involve, hears, and but hears, At distance safe, the human tempest roar, 1290 Wrapt close in conscious peace. The fall of kings, The rage of nations, and the crush of states, Move not the Man, who, from the world escap'd, In still retreats, and flowery solitudes, To Nature's voice attends, from month to month, 1295 And day to day, thro' the revolving year; Admiring, sees her in her every shape; Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart; Takes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more. He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems, 1300 Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale Into his freshen'd soul; her genial hours He full enjoys; and not a beauty blows, And not an opening blossom breathes in vain. In Summer he, beneath the living shade, 1305 Such as o'er frigid Tempe wont to wave, Or Hemus cool, reads what the Muse, of these Perhaps, has in immortal numbers sung; Or what she dictates writes; and, oft an eye Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year. 1310 When Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world, And tempts the sickled swain into the field, Seiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends With gentle throws; and, thro' the tepid gleams Deep-musing, then he best exerts his song. 1315 Even Winter wild to him is full of bliss.
The mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, Abrupt, and deep, stretch'd o'er the buried earth, Awake to solemn thought. At night the skies, Disclos'd, and kindled, by refining frost, 1320 Pour every lustre on th' exalted eye. A friend, a book the stealing hours secure, And mark them down for wisdom. With swift wing, O'er land and sea imagination roams; Or truth, divinely breaking on his mind, 1325 Elates his being, and unfolds his powers; Or in his breast heroic Virtue burns. The touch of kindred too and love he feels; The modest eye, whose beams on his alone Extatic shine; the little strong embrace 1330 Of pratling children, twin'd around his neck, And emulous to please him, calling forth The fond parental soul. Nor purpose gay, Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly scorns; For happiness and true philosophy 1335 Are of the social still, and smiling kind. This is the life which those who fret in guilt, And guilty cities, never knew; the life, Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt, When angels dwelt, and God himself, with Man! 1340
Oh Nature! all-sufficient! over all! Inrich me with the knowledge of thy works! Snatch me to heaven; thy rolling wonders there, World beyond world, in infinite extent, Profusely scatter'd o'er the blue immense, 1345 Shew me; their motions, periods, and their laws, Give me to scan; thro' the disclosing deep Light my blind way: the mineral strata there; Thrust, blooming, thence the vegetable world;
O'er that the rising system, more complex, 1350 Of animals; and higher still, the mind, The varied scene of quick-compounded thought, And where the mixing passions endless shift; These ever open to my ravish'd eye: A search, the flight of time can ne'er exhaust! 1355 But if to that unequal; if the blood, In sluggish streams about my heart, forbid That best ambition; under closing shades, Inglorious, lay me by the lowly brook, And whisper to my dreams. From Thee begin, 1360 Dwell all on Thee, with Thee conclude my song; And let me never never stray from Thee!
* ↑ The Moscovites call the Riphean Mountains Weliki Camenypoys, that is, the great stony Girdle; because they suppose them to encompass the whole earth.
* ↑ A range of mountains in Africa, that surround almost all Monomotapa.
* ↑ The seat of the Lord Viscount Cobham.
* ↑ The Temple of virtue in Stowe gardens.
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