Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

His wafted spirits quickly, by long toil
Incurring fhort fatigue; and though our years
As life declines, speed rapidly away,

And not a year but pilfers as he goes

Some youthful grace that age would gladly keep,
A tooth or auburn lock, and by degrees

Their length and colour from the locks they spare;
Th' elastic spring of an unwearied foot

T

That mounts the ftile with ease, or leaps the fence,
That play of lungs, inhaling and again
Refpiring freely the fresh air, that makes
Swift pace or steep ascent no toil to me,
Mine have not pilfer'd yet; nor yet impair'd
My relish of fair profpect; fcenes that footh'd
Or charm'd me young, no longer young, I find
Still foothing, and of power to charm me still.
And witness, dear companion of my walks,
Whofe arm this twentieth winter I perceive
Faft lock'd in mine, with pleafure fuch as love,
Confirm'd by long experience of thy worth

And

And well-tried virtues, could alone inspire

Witness a joy that thou haft doubled long.

Thou know'ft my praise of nature most fincere,
And that my raptures are not conjur❜d up
To ferve occafions of poetic pomp,

But genuine, and art partner of them all.
How oft upon yon eminence our pace

Has flacken'd to a paufe, and we have borne
The ruffling wind, fcarce conscious that it blew,
While admiration feeding at the eye,

And still unfated, dwelt upon the scene.

Thence with what pleasure have we just discern'd
The diftant plough flow-moving, and befide

His lab'ring team, that fwerv'd not from the track,
The sturdy fwain diminish'd to a boy!

Here Oufe, flow winding through a level plain
Of fpacious meads with cattle fprinkled o'er,
Conducts the eye along his finuous course
Delighted. There, fast rooted in their bank
Stand, never overlook'd, our fav'rite elms,

That

That screen the herdsman's folitary hut;

While far beyond, and overthwart the stream
That as with molten glass inlays the vale,

The floping land recedes into the clouds;
Displaying on its varied fide the grace

Of hedge-row beauties numberless, square tow'r,
Tall fpire, from which the found of chearful bells
Juft undulates upon the lift'ning ear;

Groves, heaths, and smoaking villages remote.
Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd

Please daily, and whose novelty furvives

Long knowledge and the fcrutiny of

years.

Praife juftly due to thofe that I describe.

Nor rural fights alone, but rural founds
Exhilarate the fpirit, and restore

The tone of languid Nature. Mighty winds,
That sweep the skirt of fome far-spreading wood
Of ancient growth, make mufic not unlike

The dash of ocean on his winding fhore,

· And

And lull the spirit while they fill the mind;
Unnumber'd branches waving in the blaft,
And all their leaves faft flutt'ring, all at once.
Nor lefs compofure waits upon the roar
Of diftant floods, or on the fofter voice
Of neighb'ring fountain, or of rills that flip
Through the cleft rock, and chiming as they fall
Upon loose pebbles, lose themselves at length
In matted grafs, that with a livelier green
Betrays the fecret of their filent course.

Nature inanimate employs fweet founds,
But animated Nature sweeter ftill,

To foothe and fatisfy the human ear.

Ten thousand warblers chear the day, and one

The live-long night: nor these alone, whofe notes

Nice-finger'd art must emulate in vain,

But cawing rooks, and kites that fwim fublime

In still repeated circles, fcreaming loud;

The jay, the pie, and ev'n the boding owl

That hails the rifing moon, have charms for me,

Sounds

Sounds inharmonious in themfelves and harfh, Yet heard in scenes where peace for ever reigns, And only there, please highly for their fake.

Peace to the artift, whofe ingenious thought
Devis'd the weather-houfe, that useful toy!
Fearless of humid air and gathering rains
Forth steps the man, an emblem of myself,
More delicate his tim'rous mate retires.

When Winter foaks the fields, and female feet,
Too weak to ftruggle with tenacious clay,
Or ford the rivulets, are beft at home,

The task of new difcov'ries falls on me.

At fuch a feafon and with fuch a charge

Once went I forth, and found, till then unknown,
A cottage, whither oft we fince repair:

'Tis perch'd upon the green-hill top, but clofe
Environ'd with a ring of branching elms
That overhang the thatch, itself unfeen
Peeps at the vale below; fo thick befet

« НазадПродовжити »