O'er thefe, but far beyond (a spacious map The Oufe, dividing the well-water'd land, As bashful, yet impatient to be seen. Hence the declivity is sharp and fhort, And fuch the re-ascent; between them weeps A little Naïad her impov'rifh'd urn All fummer long, which winter fills again. The folded gates would bar my progress now, But that the Lord of this inclos'd demesne, Communicative of the good he owns, Admits me to a fhare: the guiltless eye Refreshing change! where now the blazing fun Ye fallen avenues! once more I mourn * See the foregoing note. Your fate unmerited, once more rejoice That yet a remnant of your race furvives. Re-echoing pious anthems! while beneath And dark'ning and enlight'ning, as the leaves And now, with nerves new-brac'd and spirits chear'd, We tread the wilderness, whose well-roll'd walks, With curvature of flow and eafy fweep, Deception innocent-give ample space To narrow bounds. The grove receives us next; Thump after thump, refounds the constant flail, That feems to fwing uncertain, and yet falls By ceaseless action, all that is, fubfifts. Conftant rotation of th' unwearied wheel That nature rides upon, maintains her health, An inftant's pause, and lives but while she moves. Winds from all quarters agitate the air, And fit the limpid element for use, Elfe noxious: oceans, rivers, lakes, and streams, All feel the fresh'ning impulse, and are cleans'd By By reftlefs undulation; ev'n the oak Thrives by the rude concuffion of the storm: He seems indeed indignant, and to feel Th' impreffion of the blast with proud disdain, Frowning as if in his unconscious arm He held the thunder. But the monarch owes His firm ftability to what he fcorns, More fixt below, the more disturb'd above. The law, by which all creatures elfe are bound, Binds man the lord of all. Himfelf derives No mean advantage from a kindred cause, From ftrenuous toil his hours of sweetest ease. The fedentary stretch their lazy length When custom bids, but no refreshment find, Not fuch th' alert and active. Meafure life By its true worth, the comforts it affords, Good temper; fpirits prompt to undertake, Like a coy maiden, eafe, when courted moft, Fartheft retires-an idol, at whose shrine Who oft'neft facrifice are favor'd least. The love of Nature, and the scenes fhe draws, Is Nature's dictate. Strange! there fhould be found, Who, felf-imprifon'd in their proud faloons, Renounce the odors of the open field For |