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Is all the proud and mighty have
Between the cradle and the grave.
And see the rivers, how they run
Through woods and meals, in shads and sun;
Sometines swift, sometimes slow,
Wave succeeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life to endless sleep!
Thus is Nature's vesture wroughi,
To instruct our wand'ring thought ;
Thus she dresses green
To disperse our-cares away.
Ever charming, ever new,
When will the landscape tire the view
The fountain's fall, the river's flow,
The woody valleys, warm and low v;
The windy summit, wild and high,
Roughly rushing on the sky;
The pl-asant seat, the ruin'd. tow'r,
The naked rock, the shady bow'r:
The town and village, dome and farm,
Each gives each a double charm,
As pearls upon an Ærbiop's arm'
See on the mountain's southern side,
Where the prospect opens wide,
Where the evening gilds the tide,
How close and small the hedges tie!
What streaks of meadows cross the eye!
A step, methinks, may pass the stream :
So little distant dangers seem;
So we inistake the future's face,
Ey'd through hope's deluding glass-,
As you summits soft and fair,
Clad in colours of the air,
Which to those who journey near,
Barren, brown, and rough appear;
Still we tread the same coarse way,
The present's still a cloudy day.
O may I with myself agrees
And never covet what I see!
Content me with an humble shade,
My passions tam’d, my wishes laid;
For while our wishes wildly roll,
We banish Quiet from the soul;
'Tis thus the busy beat the air ;
And misers gather wealth and care.
Now, e'en now, my joys run high,
As on the mountain-turf I lie;
While the wauton Zephyr sings,
And in the vale perfumes his wings;
While the waters murmur deep;
While the shepherd charms his sheep;
While the birds unbounded fly,
And with music fill the sky;
Now, e'en now, my joys run high.
Be full, ye courts ! be great who will;
Search for Peace with all
Open wide the lofty door,
Seek her on the marble floor:
In vain ye search, she is not there;
In vain ye search the domes of Care !
Grass and flowers Quiet treads,
On the meads and mountain-heads,
Along with Pleasure, close ally'd,
Ever by each other's side :
And often by the murm’ring rill,
Hears the thrush, while all is still
Within the groves of Grongar Hill..
DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless pow'r, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour, The bad affright, aflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, design’d,
To thee he gave the heav'oly birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore:
What Sorrow was, thou barst her know,
And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' wo.
Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
Tlie summer Friends the flatt'ring Foe;
By vain Prosperity receiv'd,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'do
Wisdom, in sable garb array'd,
Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid,
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy solemn steps attend:
Warm Charity, the genral friend,
With Justice, to herself severe,
And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.
Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head,
Dread Goddess, lay thy chast'ning hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Nor circled with the vengeful band
(As by the impious thou art seen)-
With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien,
With screaming Horror's funeral cry,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.
Thy form henign, oh Goddess ! wear,
Thy nuilder influence impart,
Thy philosophic train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart.
The gen'rous spark extinci revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to scan,
What others are to feel, and know myself a man.
ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, .
Tha: crown the wal’ry glade,
Where grateful Science still aderes
Her Henry's holy shade::-
And ye that from the stately brow
Of WINDSOR's heights th’expanse below.
of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
His silver-winsling way.
Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields belov'd in vain,
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales thet fipi ye blow,
Amomentary bliss bestow,-
As waring fresh their gladsome wing,
My weaty soul they seem to sooth,
And, redoleni of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring
Say, father Thames, (for thou hast seen
Full inany a sprightly race,
Disporting on thy margent green,
The paths of pleasure urace,)
Who foremost now delight to cleave,
With pliant arms, thy glassy wave!
The captiye linnet which inthrall?
What idle progeny succeed
To chase the rolling circle's speed,
Or urge the flying ball?
Whilst some, on earnest bus'ness bent,
Their murm’ring labours ply
Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint
To sweeten liberty :
Some bold adveniurers disdain
The liinits of their liitle reign,
And unknown regions dare descry:
Still as they run they look bebiud,
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful j'y.
Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, is
Less pleasing when possess'd;
The tear furgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast;
Theirs buxom health of rosy hue,
Wild wit, invention ever new,
And lively cheer, of vigour born;
The thoughtiess day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly th' approach of morn.
Alas, regardless of their doom,
The litile victims play!
No sense have they of ills to come,
No care beyond to-day:
Yet see, how all around them wait
The ministers of human fate,