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O'er thefe, but far beyond (a fpacious map
Of hill and valley interpos'd between)

The Oufe, dividing the well-water'd land,
Now glitters in the fun, and now retires,
As bafhful, yet impatient to be seen.

Hence the declivity is fharp and fhort, And fuch the re-afcent; 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 demefne, Communicative of the good he owns,

Admits me to a fhare: the guiltless eye Commits no wrong, nor waftes what it enjoys..

Refreshing change! where now the blazing fun?
By fhort transition we have loft his glare,
And stepp'd at once into a cooler clime.

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.
How airy and how light the graceful arch,
Yet awful as the confecrated roof

Re-echoing pious anthems! while beneath

The chequer'd earth feems restless as a flood
Brush'd by the wind. So fportive is the light
Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance,
Shadow and funfhine intermingling quick,

And dark'ning and enlight'ning, as the leaves
Play wanton, ev'ry moment, ev'ry spot.

And now, with nerves new-brac'd and fpirits 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;
Between the upright fhafts of whofe tall elms

We

may difcern the thresher at his task.

Thump after thump, refounds the conftant flail,

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That seems to fwing uncertain, and yet falls
Full on the deftin'd ear. Wide flies the chaff;
The rustling straw fends up a frequent mist
Of atoms, sparkling in the noon-day beam.

Come hither, ye that prefs your beds of down
And fleep not fee him fweating o'er his bread
Before he eats it.-'Tis the primal curse,
But foften'd into mercy; made the pledge

Of chearful days, and nights without a groan.

By ceaseless action, all that is, fubsists.
Conftant rotation of th' unwearied wheel

That nature rides upon, maintains her health,
Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads.

An instant's pause, and lives but while the moves.
Its own revolvency upholds the world.

Winds from all quarters agitate the air,

And fit the limpid element for use,

Elfe noxious oceans, rivers, lakes, and ftreams,

All feel the fresh'ning impulse, and are cleans'd`

By

.

By restlefs undulation; ev'n the oak

Thrives by the rude concuffion of the ftorm: He feems indeed indignant, and to feel

Th' impreffion of the blaft with proud disdain, Frowning as if in his unconfcious 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,
For none they need: the languid eye, the cheek
Deferted of its bloom, the flaccid, fhrunk,
And wither'd muscle, and the vapid foul,
Reproach their owner with that love of rest
To which he forfeits ev'n the rest he loves.
Not fuch th' alert and active. Measure life

By its true worth, the comforts it affords,
And theirs alone feems worthy of the name,
Good health, and its affociate in the most,
Good temper; fpirits prompt to undertake,
And not foon spent, though in an arduous task;
The pow'rs of fancy and ftrong thought are theirs;
Ev'n age itself feems privileg'd in them

With clear exemption from its own defects.
A fparkling eye beneath a wrinkled front

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The vet'ran fhows, and gracing a grey beard
With youthful fmiles, defcends toward the grave
Sprightly, and old almost without decay,

Like a coy maiden, ease, when courted moft, Fartheft retires-an idol, at whose shrine

Who oft'neft facrifice are favor'd least.

The love of Nature, and the fcenes 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

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