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Sweeps thro' each kindred vista; groves to groves 1
Nod their fraternal farewell, and expire.
And now, elate with fair-earned victory,
The bard retires, and on the bank of Thames
Erects his flag of triumph; wild it waves
In verdant splendor, and beholds, and hails
The king of rivers, as he rolls along.
Kent is his bold associate, Kent who felt
The pencil's power: but, fired with higher forms
Of beauty than that pencil knew to paint,
Worked with the living hues that Nature lent,
And realized his landscapes. Generous he,
Who gave to painting, what the wayward nymph
Refused her votary, those elysian scenes,
Which would she emulate, her nicest hand
Must all its force of light and shade employ.
On thee, too, Southcote, shall the muse bestow
No vulgar praise for thou to humblest things
Couldst give ennobling beauties; decked by thee,
The simple farm eclipsed the garden's pride,2 -
Even as the virgin blush of innocence,
The harlotry of Art. Nor, Shenstone, thou
Shalt pass without thy meed, thou son of peace!
Who knew'st, perchance, to harmonize thy shades
Still softer than thy song; yet was that song
Nor rude, nor inharmonious, when attuned
To pastoral plaint, or tale of slighted love.
Him too, the living leader of thy powers,
Great Nature! him the muse shall hail in notes
Which antedate the praise true genius claims
From just posterity: bards yet unborn
Shall pay to Brown that tribute, fitliest paid
In strains the beauty of his scenes inspire.

EXHORTATION TO THE LIBERAL CULTIVATION OF TRUE TASTE IN GARDENING, REYNOLDS. —GARRICK.

Meanwhile, ye youths! whose sympathetic souls Would taste those genuine charms, which faintly In my descriptive song, O visit oft [smile The finished scenes, that boast the forming hand Of these creative Genii! feel ye there

What Reynolds felt, when first the Vatican
Unbarred her gates, and to his raptured eye
Gave all the godlike energy that flowed
From Michael's pencil; feel what Garrick felt,
When first he breathed the soul of Shakspeare's

page.

A PICTURE OF ENGLAND IMPROVED BY TASTE.

So shall your Art, if called to grace a scene Yet unadorned, with taste instinctive give Each grace appropriate; to your active eye Shall dart that glance prophetic, which awakes The slumbering wood-nymphs; gladly shall they rise Oread, and Dryad, from their verdurous beds, And fling their foliage, and arrange their stems, As you and beauty bid: the Naiad train, Alike obsequious, from a thousand urns Pour their crystalline tide; while, hand in hand, Vertumnus and Pomona bring their stores,

1 See Pope's Epistle on False Taste, to the Earl of Burlington.

2 Mr. Southcote first introduced the Ferme orné.'

Fruitage, and flowers of every blush, and scent,
Each varied season yields; to you they bring
The fragrant tribute; ye, with generous hand,
Diffuse the blessing wide, till Albion smile
One ample theatre of sylvan grace.

BOOK II.

THE ART OF LANDSCAPE GARDENING.— NATURE TO BE RESTORED AND AMENDED, NOT DEFORMED. TASTE NOT INCONSISTENT WITH THRIFT.-USE AND BEAUTY INSEPARABLE. -USE AN ELEMENT OF TRUE ART.

Hail to the art that teaches Wealth and Pride
How to possess their wish, the world's applause,
Unmixt with blame! that bids Magnificence
Abate its meteor glare, and learn to shine
Benevolently mild; like her, the Queen
Of Night, who, sailing through autumnal skies,
Gives to the bearded product of the plain
Her ripening lustre, lingering as she rolls,
And glancing cool the salutary ray

Which fills the fields with plenty. Hail that art,
Ye swains! for, hark! with lowings glad, your herds
Proclaim its influence, wandering o'er the lawns
Restored to them and Nature; now no more
Shall fortune's minion rob them of their right,
Or round his dull domain with lofty wall
Oppose their jocund presence. Gothic Pomp
Frowns and retires, his proud behests are scorned;
Now Taste inspired by Truth exalts her voice,
And she is heard. O, let not man misdeem;
Waste is not grandeur, Fashion ill supplies
My sacred place, and Beauty scorns to dwell
Where Use is exiled.' At the awful sound
The terrace sinks spontaneous; on the green,
Broidered with crispéd knots, the tonsile yews
Wither and fall; the fountain dares no more
To fling its wasted crystal through the sky,
But pours salubrious o'er the parchéd lawn
Rills of fertility. O, best of arts,

That works this happy change! true alchemy,
Beyond the Rosicrusian boast, that turns
Deformity to grace, expense to gain,

And pleased restores to earth's maternal lap
The long-lost fruits of Amalthea's horn.

LONG STRAIGHT LINES AND LABYRINTHINE TRICKS TO BE
AVOIDED.

When such the theme, the poet smiles secure
Of candid audience, and with touch assured
Resumes his reed Ascræan; enger he
To ply its warbling stops of various note

In Nature's cause, that Albion's listening youths,
Informed erewhile to scorn the long-drawn lines
Of straight formality, alike may scorn

Those quick, acute, perplexed, and tangled paths,
That, like the snake crushed by the sharpened spade,
Writhe in convulsive torture, and full oft,
Through many a dank and unsunned labyrinth,

1 An allusion to the supposed favorable effects of the harvest-moon.

2 Hesiod, the earliest poet of rural economics, was of the Greek village of Ascra; hence 'Ascræan' is put for‘rural.'

Mislead our step; till giddy, spent, and foiled, We reach the point where first our race began.

THE TRUE LINE OF BEAUTY; NATURE'S USUAL CURVE; SEEN IN THE OX-FURROW; THE TEAM-RUT; THE MILK-MAID'S PATH; THE COURSE OF THE HARE; THE STREAM.

These Fancy prized erroneous, what time Taste, An infant yet, first joined her to destroy The measured platform; into false extremes What marvel if they strayed, as yet unskilled To mark the form of that peculiar curve, Alike averse to crooked and to straight, Where sweet Simplicity resides; which Grace And Beauty call their own; whose lambent flow Charms us at once with symmetry and ease. Tis Nature's curve, instinctively she bids Her tribes of being trace it. Down the slope Of yon wide field, see, with its gradual sweep, The ploughing steers their fallow ridges swell; The peasant, driving through each shadowy lane His team, that bends beneath the incumbent weight Of laughing Ceres, marks it with his wheel; At night and morn, the milk-maid's careless step Has, through yon pasture green, from stile to stile, Impressed a kindred curve; the scudding hare Draws to her dew-sprent seat, o'er thymy heaths, A path as gently waving; mark them well; Compare, pronounce, that, varying but in size, Their forms are kindred all; go then, convinced That Art's unerring rule is only drawn From Nature's sacred source; a rule that guides Her every toil; or, if she shape the path, Or scoop the lawn, or gradual lift the hill. For not alone to that embellished walk, Which leads to every beauty of the scene, It yields a grace, but spreads its influence wide, Prescribes each form of thicket, copse, or wood, Confines the rivulet, and spreads the lake.

CONTRAST THIS CURVE WITH OTHER LINES; AVOID MONOTONY; STUDY VARIETY AND FREEDOM.

Yet shall this graceful line forget to please, If bordered close by sidelong parallels, Nor duly mixt with those opposing curves That give the charm of contrast. Vainly Taste Draws through the grove her path in easiest bend, If, on the margin of its woody sides, The measured greensward waves in kindred flow: Oft let the turf recede, and oft approach, With varied breadth, now sink into the shade, Now to the sun its verdant bosom bare. As vainly wilt thou lift the gradual hill To meet thy right-hand view, if to the left An equal hill ascends: in this, and all, Be various, wild, and free as Nature's self.

NATURE'S EXPEDIENTS TO GIVE VARIETY. HOW FAR ART CAN DO THE SAME.

For in her wildness is there oft an art, Or seeming art, which, by position apt, Arranges shapes unequal, so to save That correspondent poise, which unpreserved Would mock our gaze with airy vacancy.

Yet fair Variety with all her powers
Assists the balance; 'gainst the barren crag
She lifts the pastured slope; to distant hills
Opposes neighboring shades; and, central oft,
Relieves the flatness of the lawn, or lake,
With studded tuft, or island. So to poise
Her objects, mimic Art may oft attain :

She rules the foreground; she can swell or sink
Its surface; here her leafy screen oppose,

And there withdraw; here part the varying greens,
And there in one promiscuous gloom combine,
As best befits the genius of the scene.

STUDY THE LANDSCAPE AS IT IS. CONSULT THE GENIUS OF THE PLACE.' LET ART ADAPT ITSELF TO THE CHARACTER OF THE LOCALITY. UNITY.

Him, then, that sovereign Genius, monarch sole, Who, from creation's primal day, derives His right divine to this his rural throne, Approach with meet obeisance; at his feet Let our awed art fall prostrate. They of Ind, The Tartar tyrants, Tamerlane's proud race, Or they in Persia throned, who shake the rod Of power o'er myriads of enervate slaves, Expect not humbler homage to their pride Than does this sylvan despot. Yet to those Who do him loyal service, who revere His dignity, nor aim, with rebel arms, At lawless usurpation, is he found Patient and placable, receives well pleased Their tributary treasures, nor disdains To blend them with his own internal store.

HOW TO MANAGE A LANDSCAPE WHOSE PREVAILING CHARACTERISTIC IS DESOLATION, AND SAVAGE HORROR, CHANGED TO BOLD AND WILD GRANDEUR.

Stands he in blank and desolated state,

Where yawning crags disjointed, sharp, uncouth,
Involve him with pale horror? In the clefts,
Thy welcome spade shall heap that fostering mould
Whence sapling oaks may spring; whence cluster-
ing crowds

Of early underwood shall veil their sides,
And teach their rugged heads above the shade
To tower in shapes romantic: nor around
Their flinty roots shall ivy spare to hang
Its gadding tendrils, nor the moss-grown turf,
With wild thyme sprinkled, there refuse to spread
Its verdure. Awful still, yet not austere,
The Genius stands; bold is his port, and wild,
But not forlorn, nor savage.

HOW TO TREAT A DREARY LEVEL; OR A LUXURIANT TANGLED COPSE, OR RANK SWAMPY WILD.

On some plain Of tedious length, say, are his flat limbs laid? Thy hand shall lift him from the dreary couch, Pillowing his head with swelling hillocks green, While, all around, a forest-curtain spreads Its waving folds, and blesses his repose. What, if perchance in some prolific soil, Where vegetation strenuous, uncontrolled, Has pushed her powers luxuriant, he now pines For air and freedom? Soon thy sturdy axe,

Amid its intertwisted foliage driven,
Shall open all his glades, and ingress give
To the bright darts of day; his prisoned rills,
That darkling crept amid the rustling brakes,
Shall glitter as they glide, and his dank caves,
Free to salubrious zephyrs, cease to weep.
Meanwhile his shadowy pomp he still retains,
His Dryads still attend him; they alone
Of race plebeian banished, who to crowd,
Not

grace his state, their boughs obtrusive flung.

THE RESPECTIVE LIMITS OF PLEASURE AND USE. THRIFT MAY BE RECONCILED WITH BEAUTY. HOW TO SOFTEN A

STIFF FENCE.

But chief consult him ere thou dar'st decide The appropriate bounds of Pleasure, and of Use; For Pleasure, lawless robber, oft invades Her neighbor's right, and turns to idle waste Her treasures: curb her then in scanty bounds, Whene'er the scene permits that just restraint. The curb restrains not Beauty; sovereign she Still triumphs, still unites each subject realm, And blesses both impartial. Why then fear Lest, if thy fence contract the shaven lawn, It does her wrong? She points a thousand ways, And each her own, to cure the needful ill. Where'er it winds, and freely must it wind, She bids, at every bend, thick-blossomed tufts Crowd their inwoven tendrils: is there still A void? Lo, Lebanon her cedar lends! Lo, all the stately progeny of pines Come, with their floating foliage richly decked, To fill that void! meanwhile across the mead The wandering flocks that browse between the shades Seem oft to pass their bounds; the dubious eye Decides not if they crop the mead or lawn.

BROWSING SHEEP KEEP THE GRASS SHORT AND VERDANT.

Browse then your fill, fond foresters! to you Shall sturdy Labor quit his morning task Well pleased; nor longer o'er his useless plots Draw through the dew the splendor of his scythe. He, leaning on that scythe, with carols gay Salutes his fleecy substitutes, that rush In bleating chase to their delicious task, And, spreading o'er the plain, with eager teeth Devour it into verdure. Browse your fill, Fond foresters! the soil that you enrich Shall still supply your morn and evening meal With choicest delicates; whether you choose The vernal blades, that rise with seeded stem Of hue purpureal; or the clover white, That in a spiked ball collects its sweets; Or trembling fescue: every favorite herb Shall court your taste, ye harmless epicures !

SHEEP GIVE THE CHARM OF LIFE TO THE LANDSCAPE. A REMINISCENCE OF PRIMEVAL INNOCENCE. — THE GOLDEN AGE DESCRIBED.

Meanwhile permit that with unheeded step I pass beside you, nor let idle fear Spoil your repast, for know the lively scene, That you still more enliven, to my soul

Darts inspiration, and impels the song
To roll in bolder descant; while, within,
A gleam of happiness primeval seems
To snatch me back to joys my nature claimed,
Ere vice defiled, ere slavery sunk the world,
And all was faith and freedom: then was man
Creation's king, yet friend; and all that browse,
Or skim, or dive, the plain, the air, the flood,
Paid him their liberal homage; paid unawed,
In love accepted, sympathetic love

That felt for all, and blest them with its smiles.
Then, nor the curling horn had learned to sound
The savage song of chase; the barbéd shaft
Had then no poisoned point; nor thou, fell tube!
Whose iron entrails hide the sulphurous blast,
Satanic engine, knew'st the ruthless power
Of thundering death around thee. Then alike
Were ye innocuous through your every tribe,
Or brute, or reptile; nor by rage or guile
Had given to injured man his only plea
(And that the tyrant's plea) to work your harm.
Instinct, alas, like wayward Reason, now
Veers from its pole. There was a golden time
When each created being kept its sphere
Appointed, nor infringed its neighbor's right.

CONTRAST OF THE PRESENT AGE. THE LAMB AND HONEYSUCKLE MISCHIEF.

The flocks, to whom the grassy lawn was given, Fed on its blades contented; now they crush Each scion's tender shoots, and, at its birth, Destroy, what, saved from their remorseless tooth, Had been the tree of Jove. E'en while I sing, Yon wanton lamb has cropt the woodbine's pride, That bent beneath a full-blown load of sweets, And filled the air with perfume; see it falls; The busy bees, with many a murmur sad, Hang o'er their honeyed loss. Why is it thus? Ah, why must Art defend the friendly shades She reared to shield you from the noontide beam? Traitors, forbear to wound them! say, ye fools! Does your rich herbage fail? do acrid leaves Afford you daintier food? I plead in vain ; For now the father of the fleecy troop Begins his devastation, and his ewes Crowd to the spoil, with imitative zeal.

THE ART OF MAKING FENCES. NECESSARY DEFECTS.

Since then, constrained, we must expel the flock From where our saplings rise, our flowerets bloom, The song shall teach, in clear preceptive notes, How best to frame the fence, and best to hide All its foreseen defects; defective still, Though hid with happiest art. Ingrateful sure, When such the theme, becomes the poet's task: Yet must he try, by modulation meet Of varied cadence, and selected phrase, Exact yet free, without inflation bold, To dignify that theme, must try to form Such magic sympathy of sense with sound As pictures all it sings; while Grace awakes

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THE SUNKEN FENCE; FOR DEER; FOR SHEEP. The first and best Is that, which, sinking from our eye, divides, Yet seems not to divide the shaven lawn, And parts it from the pasture; for if there Sheep feed, or dappled deer, their wandering teeth Will, smoothly as the scythe, the herbage shave, And leave a kindred verdure. This to keep Heed that thy laborer scoop the trench with care; For some there are who give their spade repose, When broad enough the perpendicular sides Divide, and deep descend to form perchance Some needful drain, such labor may suffice, Yet not for beauty here thy range of wall Must lift its height erect, and o'er its head A verdant veil of swelling turf expand; While smoothly from its base, with gradual ease, The pasture meets its level, at that point Which best deludes our eye, and best conceals Thy lawn's brief limit. Down so smooth a slope The fleecy foragers will gladly browse ; The velvet herbage free from weeds obscene Shall spread its equal carpet, and the trench Be pasture to its base. Thus form thy fence Of stone, for stone alone, and piled on high, Best curbs the nimble deer, that love to range Unlimited; but where tame heifers feed,

Or innocent sheep, an humbler mound will serve,
Unlined with stone, and but a green-sward trench.
Here midway down, upon the nearer bank
Plant thy thick row of thorns, and, to defend
Their infant shoots, beneath, on oaken stakes,
Extend a rail of elm, securely armed
With spiculated palings, in such sort
As, round some citadel, the engineer
Directs his sharp stoccade. But when the shoots
Condense, and interweave their prickly boughs
Impenetrable, then withdraw their guard,
They've done their office; scorn thou to retain,
What frowns like military art, in scenes [stroyed,
Where Peace should smile perpetual. These de-
Make it thy vernal care, when April calls
New shoots to birth, to trim the hedge aslant,
And mould it to the roundness of the mound,
Itself a shelving hill; nor need we here
The rule or line precise, a casual glance
Suffices to direct the careless shears.

THE WIRE FENCE. THE HILL-SIDE PATH.-DEER CHECKED BY A HORIZONTAL STRING AND FEATHERS. FANCIFUL FEARS.

Yet learn, that each variety of ground Claims its peculiar barrier. When the foss Can steal transverse before the central eye, 'Tis duly drawn; but, up yon neighboring hill That fronts the lawn direct, if labor delve The yawning chasm, 't will meet, not cross our view; No foliage can conceal, no curve correct, The deep deformity. And yet thou mean'st

Up yonder hill to wind thy fragrant way,
And wisely dost thou mean; for its broad eye
Catches the sudden charms of laughing vales,
Rude rocks, and headlong streams, and antique oaks,
Lost in a wild horizon; yet the path

That leads to all these charms expects defence:
Here then suspend the sportsman's hempen toils,
And stretch their meshes on the light support
Of hazel plants, or draw thy lines of wire
In five-fold parallel; no danger then
That sheep invade thy foliage. To thy herds
And pastured steeds an opener fence oppose,
Formed by a triple row of cordage strong,
Tight drawn the stakes between. The simple deer
Is curbed by mimic snares; the slenderest twine 1
(If sages err not) that the beldame spins
When by her wintry lamp she plies her wheel,
Arrests his courage; his impetuous hoof,
Broad chest, and branching antlers, naught avail ;
In fearful gaze he stands; the nerves that bore
His bounding pride o'er lofty mounds of stone,
A single thread defies. Such force has fear,
When visionary fancy wakes the fiend,
In brute or man, most powerful when most vain.

DISADVANTAGES OF A STRING-FENCE. - MAN ALONE BROOKS THRALDOM. ELM AND OAK FENCE.

Still must the swain, who spreads these corded guards,

Expect their swift decay. The noontide beams
Relax, the nightly dews contract the twist.
Oft, too, the coward hare, then only bold
When mischief prompts, or wintry famine pines,
Will quit her rush-grown form, and steal, with ear
Up-pricked, to gnaw the toils; and oft the ram
And jutting steer drive their entangling horns
Through the frail meshes, and, by many a chasm,
Proclaim their hate of thraldom. Nothing brooks
Confinement, save degenerate man alone,

Who deems a monarch's smile can gild his chains.
Tired then, perchance, of nets that daily claim
Thy renovating labor, thou wilt form,
With elm and oak, a rustic balustrade

Of firmest juncture; happy could thy toil
Make it as fair as firm; yet vain the wish,
Aim but to hide, not grace its formal line.

TAWDRY PAINTED FENCES.

Let those, who weekly, from the city's smoke, Crowd to each neighboring hamlet, there to hold Their dusty Sabbath, tip with gold and red The milk-white palisades, that Gothic now, And now Chinese, now neither, and yet both, Checker their trim domain. Thy sylvan scene Would fade, indignant at the tawdry glare.

'Tis thine alone to seek what shadowy hues Tinging thy fence may lose it in the lawn;

1 The twine string has generally feathers tied along it. Virgil alludes to it in Georgics, Book III., line 368; also in his fifth Æneid, line 749.

And these to give thee Painting must descend Ev'n to her meanest office; grind, compound, Compare, and by the distanced eye decide.

HOW TO PREPARE A PAINT PROPER FOR A FENCE. OLIVE TINTS BEST.

For this she first, with snowy ceruse, joins The ocherous atoms that chalybeate rills Wash from their mineral channels, as they glide, In flakes of earthy gold; with these unites A tinge of blue, or that deep azure gray, Formed from the calcined fibres of the vine; And, if she blends, with sparing hand she blends That base metallic drug then only prized, When, aided by the humid touch of Time, It gives a Nero's or some tyrant's cheek Its precious canker. These, with fluent oil Attempered, on thy lengthening rail shall spread That sober olive-green which Nature wears E'en on her vernal bosom: nor misdeem, For that, illumined with the noontide ray, She boasts a brighter garment; therefore Art A livelier verdure to thy aid should bring. Know when that Art, with every varied hue, Portrays the living landscape; when her hand Commands the canvas plane to glide with streams, To wave with foliage, or with flowers to breathe, Cool olive tints, in soft gradation laid, Create the general herbage there alone, Where darts, with vivid force, the ray supreme, Unsullied verdure reigns; and tells our eye It stole its bright reflection from the sun.

THE EFFECT OF PAINT COMPARED TO A MIST.-THE COT.

The paint is spread; the barrier pales retire, Snatched, as by magic, from the gazer's view. So, when the sable ensign of the night, Unfurled by mist-impelling Eurus, veils The last red radiance of declining day, Each scattered village, and each holy spire That decked the distance of the sylvan scene, Are sunk in sudden gloom: the plodding hind, That homeward hies, kens not the cheering site Of his calm cabin, which, a moment past, Streamed from its roof an azure curl of smoke, Beneath the sheltering coppice, and gave sign Of warm domestic welcome from his toil.

THE COTTER'S HEALTHY CHILDREN. HIRE THEM AS A LIVING FENCE. THE ROSE OF INNOCENCE.

Nor is that cot, of which fond fancy draws This casual picture, alien from our theme. Revisit it at morn; its opening latch, Though penury and toil within reside, Shall pour thee forth a youthful progeny Glowing with health and beauty (such the dower Of equal Heaven): see, how the ruddy tribe Throng round the threshold, and, with vacant gaze, Salute thee; call the loiterers into use, And form of these thy fence, the living fence That graces what it guards. Thou think'st, perchance,

That, skilled in Nature's heraldry, thy art
Has, in the limits of yon fragrant tuft,
Marshalled each rose, that to the eye of June
Spreads its peculiar crimson; do not err :
The loveliest still is wanting; the fresh rose
Of innocence, it blossoms on their cheek,
And, lo, to thee they bear it! striving all,
In panting race, who first shall reach the lawn,
Proud to be called thy shepherds.

MAKE THE CHILDREN SHEPHERDS. HOW THEY ARE TO BE CLOTHED AND ARMED. A LIVING, HAPPY ORNAMENT.

Want, alas! Has o'er their little limbs her livery hung, In many a tattered fold, yet still those limbs Are shapely; their rude locks start from their brow, Yet, on that open brow, its dearest throne, Sits sweet Simplicity. Ah, clothe the troop In such a russet garb as best befits Their pastoral office; let the leathern scrip Swing at their side, tip thou their crook with steel, And braid their hat with rushes, then to each Assign his station; at the close of eve, Be it their care to pen in hurdled cote The flock, and when the matin prime returns, Their care to set them free; yet watching still The liberty they lend, oft shalt thou hear Their whistle shrill, and oft their faithful dog Shall with obedient barkings fright the flock From wrong or robbery. The livelong day Meantime rolls lightly o'er their happy heads; They bask on sunny hillocks, or disport In rustic pastime, while the loveliest grace, Which only lives in action unrestrained, To every simple gesture lends a charm.

COUNTRY CHILDREN COMPARED TO SPRING. THE FOUR SEASONS OF MAN.

Pride of the year, purpureal Spring! attend, And in the cheek of these sweet innocents Behold your beauties pictured. As the cloud That weeps its moment from thy sapphire heaven, They frown with causeless sorrow; as the beam, Gilding that cloud, with causeless mirth they smile. Stay, pitying Time! prolong their vernal bliss. Alas! ere we can note it in our song, Comes manhood's feverish summer, chilled full soon By cold autumnal care, till wintry age Sinks in the frore severity of death.

RETIREMENT. — SELF-IMPROVEMENT. SELF-CONTENT.

Ah! who, when such life's momentary dream, Would mix in hireling senates, strenuous there To crush the venal Hydra, whose fell crests Rise with recruited venom from the wound! Who, for so great a conflict, would forego Thy sylvan haunts, celestial Solitude! Where self-improvement, crowned with self-content, Await to bless thy votary.

STORY OF PRINCE ABDOLONYMUS.

Nurtured thus In tranquil groves, listening to Nature's voice,

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