I

1

Where the bleak Swifs their ftormy mansion tread,

And force a churlifh foil for fcanty bread;
No product here the barren hills afford,
But man and steel, the foldier and his fword.
No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array,
But winter lingering chills the lap of May;
No zephyr fondly fues the mountain's breast,
But meteors glare, and stormy gloons invest.

Yet ftill, even here, content can spread a
charm,

Redrefs the clime, and all its rage difarm.
Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though
fmall,
He fees his little lot the lot of all;

Sees no contiguous palace rear its head
To fhame the meannels of his humble shed;
No coftly lord the fumptuous banquet deal
To make him loath his vegetable meal;
But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,
Each with contracting, fits him to the foil.
Cheerful at morn, he wakes from Thort repofe,
Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes;
With patient angle trolls the finny deep,

Or drives his vent'rous plough share to the steep;

Or feeks the den where fnow tracks mark

the way,

And drags the struggling favage into day.
At night returning every labour sped,
He fits him down the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round furveys
His childrens' looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard,
Difplays her cleanly platter on the board:
And haply too fome pilgrim, thither led,
With

many a tale repays the nightly bed.

Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot paffion on his heart; And even thofe ills, that round his manfion rife, Enhance the blifs his fcanty fund fupplies. Dear is that shed to which his foul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when fearing founds moleft. Clings clofe and clofer to the mother's breast, So, the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.

Such are the charms to barren ftates al

fign'd;

Their wants but few, their wifhes all confin'd.
Yet let them only share the praifes due.
If few their wants that ftimulates the breast,
Becomes a fource of pleafure when redrest.
Whence from fuch lands each pleafing science flies,
That firft excites defire, and then fupplies;
Unknown to them, when fenfual pleasures cloy,
To fill the languid pause with finer joy;
Unknown those powers that raise the foul to
flame,

Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame.

Their level life is but a mouldering fire,
Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong defire;
Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer
On fome high feftival of once a year,
In wild excels the vulgar breast takes fire,
Till, buried in debauch, the blifs expire.

But not their joys alone thus coarfely flow, Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low, For, as refinement ftops, from fire to fon Unalter'd unimprov'd the manners run; And lov's and friendship's finely pointed dart Fall blunted from each indurated heart. Some fterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast

May fit, like falcons cowering on the nest; But all the gentler morals, fuch a play Throuh life's more cultur'd walks, and charm they way,

Thefe, far difpers'd on Timorous pinions fly, To fport and flutter in a kinder sky.

To kinder (kies, where gentler manners reign, I turn; and France difplays her bright domain. Gay fprightly land of mirth and focial eafe, Pleas'd with thyfelf, whom all the world can please,

How often have I led thy fportive choir,
With tuneless pipe, befide the murmuring
Loire i)?

Where fhading elms along the margin grew,
And freshen'd from the wave the zephyr flew;
And haply, though my harsh touch fault'ring
Still,

But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's fkill Yet would the village praise my wonderous power,

And dance, forgetful of the noon tide hour.
Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful

maze,

And the gay grandfire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frifk'd beneath the burthen of threefcore.

So bleft a life these thoughtless realms display, Thus idly bufy rolls their world away: Theirs are thofe arts that mind to mind endear, For honour forms the focial temper here. Honour, that praife which real merit gains,

i) Loire, ein bekannter Flufs Frankreichs.

Wie fich

der Lefer aus der vorangefchickten Biographie_Goldfinith's erinnern wird, fo ernährte fich diefer Dichter euf seinen Wanderungen unter andern dadurch, dafs er auf einem Inftrumente fpielte

Or even imaginary worth obtains,

Here paffes current; paid from hand to hand, It fhifts in fplendid traffic round the land: From courts, to camps, to cottages it strays, And all are taught an avarice of praise;

They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem Till, feeming bleft, they grow to what they

feem.

But while this fofter art their blifs fupplies,
It gives their follies alfo room to rise;
For praise too dearly lov'd, or warmly fought,
Enfeebles all internal ftrength of thought.
And the weak foul, within itself unblest,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
Hence oftentation here, with tawdry art,
Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart;
Here vanity affumes her pert grimace,
And trims her robes of frize with copper lace;
Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,
To boaft one fplendid banquet once a year;
The mind still turns where shifting fashion
draws,

Nor weighs the folid worth of felf applaufe.
To men of other minds my fancy flies,
Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies.
Methinks her patient fons before me stand,
Where the broad ocean leans against the land,
And, sedulous to ftop the coming tide,
Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride
Onward methinks, and diligently flow,
The firm connected bulwark feems to grow;
Sp eads its long arms amidst the watery roar,
Scoop out an empire, and ufurps the shore.
While the port ocean rifing o'er the pile,
Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile;
The flow canal, the yellow bloffom'd vale,
The willow tufted bank, the gliding fail,

The crouded mart, the cultivated plain,
A new creation refcu'd from his reign.

Thus while around the wave - fubjected foil Impels the native to repeated toil, Industrious habits in each bofom reign, And industry begets a love of gain

Hence all the good from opulence that springs, With all thofe ills fuperfluous treasure brings, Are here difplay'd. Their much lov'd wealth

imparts

Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts;
But view them clofer, craft and fraud appear
Even liberty itself is barter'd here.

At gold's fuperior charms all freedom flies,
The needy fell it, and the rich man buys;
A land of tyrants, and a den, of slaves,
Here wretches feek difhonourable graves,
And calmly bent, to fervitude conform,
Dull as their lakes that flumber in the storm.

Heavens! how unlike their Belgic fires of old!
Rough, poor, content ungovernably bold;
War in each breast, and freedom on each brow;
How inuch unlike the fons of Britain now!

Fir'd at the found, my genius spreads her

wing,

And flies where Britain courts the western spring; Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian k) pride. And brighter streams than fam'd Hydaspis 1) glide,

k) Arcadia, eine durch die Schönheit und Fruchtbarkeit ihrer Gegenden berühmte Provinz des alten Griechenlands.

1) Hydafpis, ein Flufs in Indien, der fich von der Oftfeite her in den indus ftürzt; er kommt in den Zügen Alexanders des Grofsen vor, daher hier das Beiwort fam'd. Vielleicht deutet unfer Dichter ganz befonders auf das Epitheton hin, welches diefer Flufs beim Horaz