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May not unseemly with its stillness suit,
As musing slow, I hail,
Thy genial, lov'd return!
The fragrant Hours, and Elves
Who slept in flow'rs the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with
sedge, And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and lovelier still,
The pensive Pleasures sweet
Prepare thy shadowy. car, Then lead, calm Votress, where some sheety lako Cheers the lone heath or some time-hallowed pile ,
Or up-land fallows grey
Reflect its last cool gleam.. But when chill blust'ring winds or driving rain , Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut,
That from the mountain's side,
Views wilds and swelling tloods,
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil.
While Summer loves to sport
Beneath thy lingering light:
Affrights thy shrinking train,
And rudely rends thy robes ;
CHA P. X X V I.
Ode to Spring Sweet daughter of a rough and štormy sire, Hoar Winter's blooming child : delightful Spring!
Whose unshorn locks with leaves
And swelling buds are crown'd; From the green islands of eternal youth, (Crown'd with fresh blooms, and ever-springing
O thou whose powerful voice
And thro the stormy deep
Breathe thy own tender calm.
and festal rites, and joy to rove
And vales and dewy lawns,
Of him the favour'd youth
That prompts their whisper'd sigh. Unlock thy copious stores; those tender showers That drop their sweetness on the infant buds,
And silent dews that swell,
The milky ear's green stein,
Salute the blowing flowers.
And watch with patient' eye
O Nymph, approach! while yet the temperate sun With bashful forehead, thro the cool moist air
Throws his young maiden beams,
And with chaste kisses woos The earth's fair bosom; while the streaming veil Of lucid clouds with kind and frequent shade
Protects thy modest blooms
From his severer blaze, Sweet is thy reign, but short; the red Dog-star Shall scorch thy tresses, and the mower's seyche
Thy greens, thy flow'rets all,
Remorseless shall destroy. Reluctant shall I bid thee then farewell; For O! not all that Autumn's lap contains,
Nor Summer's ruddiest fruits,
Can aught for thee attone.
Each joy and new-born hope
CH A P. X X V I I. Domestic Love and Happiness. O
Happy thoy! the happiest of their kind ! Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend, 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, That binds their peace, but harmony itself, Attuning all their passions into love; Where Friendship full exerts her softest power : Perfect esteem,
enliven'd by desire Ineffable, and sympathy of soul; Thought meeting thought, and will preventing With boundless confidence: for nonght but love Can answer love, and render bliss secure.
Let him, ungenerous, who.alone, intent
its pleasure, and its nonsense all?.
and calls For the kind hand of an assiduous care.. Delightful task! to rear the tender Thought , To teach the young Idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction v'er the mind, To breathe enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast, Oh! speak ih joy! ye whom the sudden tear Surprises often , while you look around, And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss ;; All various nature pressing on the heart:. An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural qniet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life Progressive virtue , and approving Heaven These are the matchless joys of virtuous love; And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus,
As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll,
C H A P. x x V I I I.
The Pleasures of Retirement. 0
knew he but his happiness ! of men The happiest he, who far from public rage, Deep in the vale, with a choice few retird. Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life. What thu the dome be wanting, whose proud
gate, Each morning vomits out the sneaking crowd Of flatt'rers false, and in their turn abus'd ? Vile intercourse! What tho' the glittering robe, Of every hue reflecied light cau give, Or floated loose, or stift with mazy gold, The pride and gaze of fools, oppress him not? What tho', from utmost land and sea purvey'd ,, For him each rarer tributary life Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps With luxury and death? What tho' his bowl Flames not with costiy, juice; nor sunk in beds. Oft. of gay Care, he tosses out the night , Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state? What thu he knows not those fantastic joys, That still amuse the wanton ,.still deceive; A face, of pleasure but a heart of pain ; The', hollow moments undelighted all! Sure peace is his; a solid life , estrang'd To disappointment and fallacious bope :