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
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 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 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
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 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 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
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