But, just as rul'd, will good or ill produce,
Whether it rolls the raging tide of war,
Or only frights the tenants of the air,
For empire level'd, or for health caress'd,
The motive, not the mean, is curs'd or blest.
Now had the twilight, veil'd in gloomy gray,
Mourn'd the departure of retiring day,]
A darker hue the face of nature wears,
And scarce distinct the distant town appears→→→
Back to our mind, in swift succession, throng
(To cheat the time and steal the road along)
The various sports of all the summer past,
When lingering long-vacation came at last ;
Imagination fondly sports to tell,
How many grouse! how many partridge fell!
And quick transports me, gladden'd as I go,
Where the proud Gaulties lift their awful brow,
Oft did I there with lively spirits run,
Mount on their back to meet the rising sun,
When toiling, panting, labor-spent and slow,
I stopp'd to breathe ;—and view'd the plains below,
And thee, dear village! loveliest of the clime,
Fain would I name thee, but I can't in rhime,
When first my years in youthful pleasures past,
And where in age I hope to die at last;
Fain would I dwell upon thy native charms,
Thy verdant hills and cultivated farms—
But sudden rous'd, I see the pointers wind,
My brother-sportsmen pressing close behind,
The grumbling heathcock feels an instant wound,
Adown he falls, and thuds against the ground-
Again, methinks I see the service spread,
The cold provisions on the cakes of bread
The mountain stream, of babbling accents nigh,
My couch the heath, my canopy the sky,
Aeneas-like, I eagerly devour
The plates themselves—the quarter'd cakes of flour,
Like him arise new conquests to pursue,
Then end my toil and tell of all I knew.
So at the close of toilsome, hardy life,
The veteran soldier brags of glorious strife,]
What dangers past, what cities he had seen,.
What battles fought, when thousands strew'd the
'Till fancy-warm'd he seems to fight them o’er,
And, tir'd at last, he braves and boasts no more.
Blest with the view of Stephen's- green at last,
Amusive fancy paints its pleasures past
Where shady walks entice the noon-tide gale,
And whisp'ring lovers' softly-sighing tale;
The ogling belle, the pert and powder'd beau,
And dame delighted pretty miss to shew;
The trader trim, that struts with vacant air
To catch the breeze, or captivate the fair-
But now no more Florillus glads the green,
Lucinda's gone, and desolates the scene.
The rising moon with delegated sway, Supplies the radiance of the distant day,
Reveals the various objects that we meet,
And all the busy tumults of the street-
With head-long pace the vagrant hawker scours,
And bloody news from lungs horrific pours,
The dull, discordant ballad-notes annoy,
That mock the crowd, with love's fantastic joy;
The cumb'rous coach, with blazon'd pomp that
Where pamper'd pride and indolence repose
While close behind the shivering female strays,
Parted from virtue, innocence and ease-
See once the darling of her mother's arms,
Her father's pride, and blest with blooming charms,
Through all the village known for spotless fame,
Fair was her beauty, fairer still her name;
'Till the sly tempter urg'd insidious suit,
And lur'd her weakness to forbidden fruit;
There perish'd grace, her guardian honor fled,
And sad remembrance mourns each blessing-dead!
Expell'd the paradise of native sway,
She wanders now to every vice a prey—
A prey to yonder terror of the night,
(Avert, ye Gods! such monsters from my sight)
The bully dire: whose front the furies swell,
And scars dishonest mark the son of hell-
In vain! she shrinks to shun his luckless pace,
Aw'd by the terrors of his vengeful face;
To scenes Tartarean, see! the wretches hie,
Where, drench'd in vice, they rave-they rot-or die.
Heav'n! how unlike the pure, the tranquil scene,
Where rural mirth, and rural manners reign; 490
Where simple cheer disclaims the cares of wealth,
And fresh'ning gales diffuse the glow of health ;]
Where undisturb'd, unenvy'd, unconfin'd,
Calm Reason rules each moment of the mind;
Where mock'd Ambition seeks her last retreat,
And proves the world a bubble or a cheat.
Through clam'rous streets at length by caution led,
Lo! Alma Mater rears her reverend head,
Unfolds the portals of her awful courts,
Where, nurs'd by Science, future fame resorts-
Pleas'd we behold the bright'ning fuel blaze,
And hot repast that gives content and ease;
While keenest appetites a zest bestow,
Which listless luxury can never know;
The cloth remov'd, with blessing for our fare,
We next the jug of cordial punch prepare;
Or purple claret sparkling as we pour,]
Nectareous juice! to chear the social hour,
When toil declining claims refreshment's smiles,
And mirthful innocence the time beguiles. 420
With conscious joy our nets we then review,
And all the conquests of the day renew,
Boast of our skill, and palliate where it fails,
For e'en in trifles human pride prevails-
Not to ourselves the feather'd spoil confine,
But range them round for friendship's sacred shrine;
The rural bliss redoubles in our breast,
In pleasing others when ourselves are blest :
Nor you, my Friends! disdain what you adore,
We gave with pleasure, and would give you more; 43
Our off'ring take, and as we wish survey
The grateful produce of a Winter's day.
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