The plant, which nature, lefs diffufely kind,
Has to few climes with partial care confin'd;
The shell the fcatters with more careless air,
And, in her frolics, feems fupremely fair;
The worth that dazzles in the tulip's ftains,
Or lurks beneath a pebble's various veins.
Sleep's downy god, averf: to war's alarms,
Shall o'er thy head diffuse his foftest charms;
Ere anxious thought thy dear repose affail,
Or care, my most destructive foe, prevail.
The watery nymphs fhall tune the vocal vales,
And gentle zephyrs harmonize their gales,
For thy repose, inform, with rival joy,
Their ftreams to murmur, and their winds to figh.
Thus fhalt thou fspend the sweetly-flowing day,
Till loft in blifs thou breath'ft thy foul away:
Till the t' Elyfian bowers of joy repair,
Nor find my charming fcenes exceeded there."
She ceas'd; and on a lily'd bank reclin'd,
Her flowing robe wav'd wanton with the wind:
One tender hand her drooping head sustains ;
One points, expreffive, to the flowery plains.
Soon the fond youth perceiv'd her influence roll,
Deep in his breast, to melt his manly foul:
As when Favonius joins the folar blaze,
And each fair fabric of the froft decays.
Soon, to his breast, the soft harangue convey'd
Refolves too partial to the specious maid.
He figh'd, he gaz'd, so sweetly fmil'd the dame;
Yet, fighing, gazing, feem'd to scorn his flame,
And, oft as virtue caught his wandering eye,
A crimson blush condemn'd the rifing figh.
"Twas fuch the lingering Trojan's shame betray'd,
When Maia's fon the frown of Jove display'd:
When wealth, fame, empire, could no balance prove,
For the foft reign of Dido, and of love.
Thus ill with arduous glory love conspires.;
Soft tender flames with bold impetuous fires!
Some hovering doubts his anxious bofom mov'd,
And virtue, zealous fair! thofe doubts improv'd.
Fly, fly, fond youth, the too indulgent maid,
Nor err, by fuch fantastic scenes betray'd.
Though in my path the rugged thorn be feen,
And the dry turf disclose a fainter green;
Though no gay rofe or flowery product fhine,
The barren furface ftill conceals the mine.
Each thorn that threatens, ev'n the weed that grows
In virtue's path, fuperior sweets bestows-
Yet should those boafted, fpecious toys allure,
Whence could fond floth the flattering gifts procure?
The various wealth that tempts thy fond defire,
'Tis I alone, her greatest foe, acquire.
I from old ocean rob the treafur'd store;
I through each region, latent gems explore;
'Twas I the rugged brilliant first reveal'd,
By numerous ftrata deep in earth conceal'd,
'Tis I the furface yet refine, and show
The modeft gem's intrinfic charms to glow.
Nor fwells the grape, nor fpires its feeble tree
Without the firm fupports of industry.
But grant we floth the fcene herself has drawn,
The mofly grotto, and the flowery lawn;
Let Philomela tune th' harmonious gale,
And with each breeze eternal fweets exhale;
Let gay Pomona flight the plains around,
And chufe, for faireft fruits, the favour'd ground;
To blefs the fertile vale fhould virtue cease,
Nor moffy grots, nor flowery lawns could please;
Nor gay Pomona's luscious gifts avail,
The found harmonious, or the fpicy gale.
Seeft thou yon rocks in dreadful pomp arife,
Whofe rugged cliffs deform th' encircling skies?
Thofe fields, whence Phoebus all their moisture drains,
And, too profufely fond, disrobes the plains?
When I vouchfafe to tread the barren foil,
Those rocks feem lovely, and those deserts fmile.
The form thou view'ft, to cvery scene with ease
Transfers its charms, and every scene can please.
When I have on those pathless wilds appear'd;
And the lone wanderer with my prefence chear'd;
Thofe cliffs the exile has with pleasure view'd,
And call'd that defert blissful folitude!
Nor I alone to fuch extend my care:
Fair-blooming health surveys her altars there.
Brown exercife will lead thee where the reigns,
And with reflected luftre gild the plains.
With her, in flower of youth, and beauty's pride,
Her offspring, calm content and peace, refide.
One ready offering fuits each neighbouring 'hrine;
And all obey their laws, who practise mine.
But health averfe from floth's fmooth region flies; And, in her absence, pleasure droops and dies. Her bright companions, mirth, delight, repose, Smile where the fmiles, and ficken when he goes. A galaxy of powers! whofe forms appear For ever beauteous, and for ever near.
Nor will foft fleep to floth's request incline,
He from her couches flies unbid to mine.
Vain is the sparkling bowl, the warbling ftrain,
Th' incentive fong, the labour'd viand vain !
Where the relentlefs reigns without control,
And checks each gay excursion of the soul :
Unmov'd, though beauty, deck'd in all its charms,
Grace the rich couch, and spread the softest arms:
Till joyless indolence fuggefts defires;
Or drugs are fought to furnish languid fires :
Such languid fires as on the vitals prey,
Barren of blifs, but fertile of decay.
As artful heats, apply'd to thirsty lands,
Produce no flowers, and but debafe the fands:
But let fair health her chearing fmiles impart,
How fweet is nature, how fuperfluous art!
"Tis the the fountain's ready draught commends,
And smooths the flinty couch which fortune lends.
And when my hero from his toils retires,
Fills his gay bofom with unufual fires,
And, while no checks th' unbounded joy reprove,
Aids and refines the genuine fweets of love.
His faireft profpect rising trophies frame;
His fweeteft müfic is the voice of fame ;
P
Pleafures to floth unknown! fhe never found
How fair the profpect, or how fweet the found.
See fame's gay ftructure from yon fummit charms,
And fires the manly breast to arts or arms:
Nor dread the steep afcent, by which you rise
From groveling vales to towers which reach the skies.
Love, fame, efteem, 't is labour must acquire;
The fmiling offspring of a rigid fire!
To fix the friend, your fervice must be shewn;
All, ere they lov'd your merit, lov'd their own.
That wondering Greece your portrait may admire,
That tuneful bards may ftring for you their lyre,
That books may praife, or coins record your name,
Such, fuch rewards 't is toil alone can claim!
And the fame column which difplays to view
The conqueror's name, difplays the conqueft too.
'Twas flow experince, tedious mistress! taught
All that e'er nobly fpoke, or bravely fought.
'Twas the the patriot, fhe the bard refin'd,
In arts that ferve, protect, or please mankind.
Not the vain, vifions of inactive schools;
Not fancy's maxims, not opinion's rules,
E'er form'd the man whofe generous warmth extends
T'enrich his country, or to ferve his friends.
On active worth the laurel war bestows:
Peace rears her olive for induftrious brows:
Nor earth, uncultur'd, yields its kind supplies :
Nor heaven, its showers without a facrifice.
See far below fuch groveling fcenes of fhame,
As hull to rest Ignavia's flumbering dame.
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