When moft severe, and muft'ring all its force, Was but the graver countenance of love; Whofe favour, like the clouds of fpring, might low'r, And utter now and then an awful voice, But had a bleffing in its darkeft frown, Threat'ning at once and nourishing the plant. His fhelt'ring fide, and wilfully forewent But not to understand a treasure's worth 'Till time has ftol'n away the flighted good, Is cause of half the poverty we feel, And makes the world the wilderness it is. The few that pray at all pray oft amifs, And, feeking grace t' improve the prize they hold, Would urge a wifer fuit than afking more. The night was winter in his roughest mood, The morning sharp and clear. But now at noon Upon the fouthern fide of the flant hills, And where the woods fence off the northern blaft, The season fmiles, refigning all its rage, And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue The dazzling fplendour of the scene below. And through the trees I view th' embattled tow'r The foothing influence of the wafted strains, And fettle in foft musings as I tread The walk ftill verdant, under oaks and elms, Whose outspread branches overarch the glade. The frequent flakes, has kept a path for me. No noife is here, or none that hinders thought. With flender notes and more than half suppress'd:. From spray to spray, where'er he refts he shakes That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below. Stillness, accompanied with founds fo foft, Charms more than filence. Meditation here May think down hours to moments. Here the heart May give an ufeful leffon to the head, And learning, wifer grow without his books. Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connexion. Knowledge dwells In In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mafs, The mere materials with which wifdom builds, Some, to the fascination of a name Surrender judgment, hood-wink'd. Some, the style Infatuates, and through labyrinths and wilds Of error leads them, by a tune entranc'd. While floth feduces more, too weak to bear The infupportable fatigue of thought, And fwallowing, therefore, without pause or choice, The total grift unfifted, husks and all. But trees, and rivulets whofe rapid courfe Defies the check of winter, haunts of deer, And sheep-walks, populous with bleating lambs, And lanes, in which the primrose ere her time Peeps through the mofs that cloaths the hawthorn root, Deceive no ftudent. Wisdom there, and truth, Not shy, as in the world, and to be won By flow folicitation, feize at once The roving thought, and fix it on themselves. What prodigies can pow'r divine perform Familiar with th' effect we flight the cause, And renovation of a faded world, See nought to wonder at. Should God again, As once in Gibeon, interrupt the race Of the undeviating and punctual fun, How would the world admire! but fpeaks it lefs An |