Her folid grandeur rife: hence the commands
Th' exalted ftores of every brighter clime,
The treasures of the fun without his rage:
Hence, fervent all, with culture, toil, and arts,
Wide glows her land: her dreadful thunder hence
Rides o'er the waves fublime, and now, ev'n now,
Impending hangs o'er Gallia's humbled coaft;
Hence rules the circling deep, and awes the world.
'Tis raging noon; and, vertical, the fun
Darts on the head direct his forceful rays.
O'er heaven and earth, far as the ranging eye
Can fweep, a dazzling deluge reigns; and all
From pole to pole is undiftinguish'd blaze.
In vain the fight, dejected to the ground,
Stoops for relief; thence hot-ascending steams,
And keen reflection pain. Deep to the root
Of vegetation parch'd, the cleaving fields
And flippery lawn an arid hue disclose,

Blaft Fancy's bloom, and wither ev'n the foul.
Echo no more returns the chearful found

425

430

435

440

Of sharpening fcythe: the mower finking heaps
O'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfum'd; 445
And scarce a chirping grafs-hopper is heard

Through the dumb mead. Distressful nature pants.
The very ftreams look languid from afar ;

Or, through th' unfhelter'd glade, impatient seem
To hurl into the covert of the grove.

450

All-conquering Heat, oh, intermit thy wrath!

And on my throbbing temples potent thus

Beam not fo fierce! Inceffant ftill you flow,

And

And ftill another fervent flood fucceeds,
Pour'd on the head profufe. In vain I figh,
And restlefs turn, and look around for night;
Night is far off; and hotter hours approach.
Thrice happy he! who, on the funless fide
Of a romantic mountain, foreft-crown'd,
Beneath the whole collected fhade reclines:
Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine-wrought,
And fresh bedew'd with ever-f
er-fpouting ftreams,
Sits coolly calm; while all the world without,

Unfatisfied and fick, toffes in noon :

455

460

Emblem inftructive of the virtuous man,

465

Who keeps his temper'd mind ferene and pure,

And every paffion aptly harmoniz'd,

Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd.

Welcome, ye fhades! ye bowery thickets, hail!

Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks!

470

Ye ashes wild, refounding o'er the steep!

Delicious is your fhelter to the foul,

As to the hunted hart the fallying spring,

Or ftream full-flowing, that his fwelling fides
Laves, as he floats along the herbag'd brink.

475

Cool, through the nerves, your pleafing comfort glides;

The heart beats glad; the fresh-expanded eye

And ear refume their watch; the finews knit;

And life fhoots fwift through all the lighten'd limbs. Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along

4S

The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock,

Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool,
Now ftarting to a fudden stream, and now

Gently

Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain;

A various groupe the herds and flocks compose,

485

Rural confufion! on the graffy bank

Some ruminating lie; while others ftand

Half in the flood, and, often bending, sip

The circling furface. In the middle droops

The ftrong laborious ox, of honest front,

490

Which incompos'd he shakes; and from his fides
The troublous infects lashes with his tail,

Returning still. Amid his subjects safe,

Slumbers the monarch-fwain; his careless arm

Thrown round his head, on downy mofs fuftain'd; 495 Here laid his fcrip, with wholesome viands fill'd;

There, listening every noise, his watchful dog.

Light fly his flumbers, if perchance a flight
Of angry gad-flies faften on the herd;
That ftartling fcatters from the shallow brook,
In fearch of lavish ftream. Toffing the foam,
They scorn the keeper's voice, and fcour the plain,
Through all the bright feverity of noon;

While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan
Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills.

Oft in this season too the horse, provok'd,

500

505

While his big finews full of spirits fwell,

Trembling with vigour, in the heat of blood,

Springs the high fence; and, o'er the field effus'd,

Darts on the gloomy flood, with stedfast eye,

510

And heart eftrang'd to fear: his nervous cheft,

Luxuriant, and erect! the feat of strength!

Bears down th' oppofing stream: quenchless his thirst;

He

He takes the river at redoubled draughts;

And with wide noftrils, fnorting, skims the wave. 515
Still let me pierce into the midnight depth
Of yonder grove, of wildett largest growth:
That, forming high in air a woodland quire,
Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every
Solemn, and flow, the fhadows blacker fall,
And all is awful listening gloom around.

ftep,

These are the haunts of Meditation, these
The scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring breath,
Extatic, felt; and, from this world retir'd,

520

Convers'd with angels and immortal forms,

525

On gracious errands bent: to fave the fall

Of virtue ftruggling on the brink of vice;

In waking whispers, and repeated dreams,

To hint pure thought, and warn the favour'd foul
For future trials fated to prepare,

530

Το prompt the poet, who devoted gives

His Mufe to better themes; to foothe the pangs

Of dying worth, and from the patriot's breast

(Backward to mingle in detested war,

But foremost when engag'd) to turn the death;
And numberlefs fuch offices of love

539

Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform.

Shook fudden from the bosom of the sky,

A thousand shapes or glide athwart the dusk,
Or ftalk majestic on. Deep-rous'd, I feel

540

A facred terror, a fevere delight,

Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, methinks,

A voice, than human more, th' abstracted ear

Of

Of fancy ftrikes. "Be not of us afraid,
"Poor kindred man! thy fellow-creatures, we
"From the fame Parent-Power our beings drew,
"The fame our Lord, and laws, and great purfuit.
"Once fome of us, like thee, through ftormy life,
"Toil'd, tempeft-beaten, ere we could attain
"This holy calm, this harmony of mind,

545

550

"Where purity and peace immingle charms.

"Then fear not us; but with refponfive fong, "Amid thefe dim receffes, undisturb'd

"By noify folly and difcordant vice,

"Of Nature fing with us, and Nature's God.

555

"Here frequent, at the vifionary hour,

"When musing midnight reigns or filent noon,

"Angelic harps are in full concert heard,

"And voices chaunting from the wood-crown'd hill,

"The deepening dale, or inmoft fylvan glade :

560

"A privilege bestow'd by us, alone,

"On Contemplation, or the hallow'd ear

"Of Poet, fwelling to feraphic strain."

And art thou, *Stanley, of that facred band?

Alas, for us too foon! Though rais'd above
The reach of human pain, above the flight
Of human joy; yet, with a mingled ray
Of fadly-pleas'd remembrance, must thou feel
A mother's love, a mother's tender woe:
Who feeks thee ftill, in many a former scene
Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely beaming eyes,

;

565

570

A young lady, who died at the age of eighteen, in

Thy

the year 1738. See her epitaph in Vol. II.