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 survives.
How airy and how light the graceful arch,
Yet awful as the consecrated roof

Re-echoing pious anthems! while beneath
The chequer'd earth seems restless as a flood
Brush'd by the wind. So sportive is the light
Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance,
Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick,

And dark'ning and enlight'ning, as the leaves

Play wanton, ev'ry moment, ev'ry spot.

And now, with nerves new-brac'd and spirits

cheer'd,

We tread the wilderness, whose well-roll'd walks,

With curvature of slow and easy sweep

Deception innocent-give ample space

To narrow bounds. The grove receives us next;

Between the upright shafts of whose tall elms
We may discern the thresher at his task.

Thump after thump resounds the constant flail,
That seems to swing uncertain, and yet falls
Full on the destin'd ear. Wide flies the chaff.
The rustling straw sends up a frequent mist
Of atoms, sparkling in the noon-day beam.
Come hither, ye that press your beds of down,
And sleep not: see him sweating o'er his bread
Before he eats it.-'Tis the primal curse,

But soften'd into mercy; made the pledge
Of cheerful days, and nights without a groan.

By ceaseless action all that is subsists.

Constant rotation of th' unwearied wheel

That nature rides upon maintains her health,

Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads

An instant's pause, and lives but while she moves. Its own revolvency upholds the world.

Winds from all quarters agitate the air,

And fit the limpid element for use,

Else noxious: oceans, rivers, lakes, and streams, All feel the fresh'ning impulse, and are cleans'd By restless undulation: ev'n the oak

Thrives by the rude concussion of the storm: He seems indeed indignant, and to feel

Th' impression of the blast with proud disdain, Frowning, as if in his unconscious arm

He held the thunder: but the monarch owes

His firm stability to what he scorns

More fixt below, the more disturb'd above.
The law, by which all creatures else are bound,
Binds man the lord of all. Himself derives

No mean advantage from a kindred cause,
From strenuous toil his hours of sweetest ease.

The sedentary 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, shrunk,

And wither'd muscle, and the vapid soul,

Reproach their owner with that love of rest
To which he forfeits ev'n the rest he loves.
Not such th' alert and active. Measure life
By its true worth, the comforts it affords,
And their's alone seems worthy of the name.
Good health, and, its associate in most,

Good temper; spirits prompt to undertake,

And not soon spent, though in an arduous task;
The pow'rs of fancy and strong thought are their's;
Ev'n age itself seems privileg'd in them,
With clear exemption from its own defects.
A sparkling eye beneath a wrinkled front
The vet'ran shows, and, gracing a gray beard
With youthful smiles, descends toward the

Sprightly, and old almost without decay.

grave

Like a coy maiden, ease, when courted most,

Farthest retires-an idol, at whose shrine

Who oft'nest sacrifice are favour'd least.

The love of Nature, and the scene she draws,

Is Nature's dictate. Strange! there should be

found,

Who, self-imprison'd in their proud saloons,
Renounce the odours of the open field

For the unscented fictions of the loom;
Who, satisfied with only pencil'd scenes,
Prefer to the performance of a God

The inferior wonders of an artist'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 shows me that which I shall never see,
Conveys a distant country into mine,

And throws Italian light on English walls:

But imitative strokes can do no more

Than please the eye-sweet Nature ev'ry sense. The air salubrious of her lofty hills,

The cheering fragrance of her dewy vales, And music of her woods-no works of man May rival these; these all bespeak a pow'r