Her folid grandeur rife: hence the commands
Th' exalted stores 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 undistinguish'd blaze.
In vain the fight, dejected to the ground,
Stoops for relief; thence hot-afcending fteams,
And keen reflection pain. Deep to the root
Of vegetation parch'd, the cleaving fields
And flippery lawn an arid hue difclose,

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

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430

435

440

Of sharpening scythe: 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. Diftressful nature pants.
The very streams look languid from afar ;

Or, through th' unfhelter'd glade, impatient feem
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 profuse. In vain I figh,
And restless 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, forest-crown'd,
Beneath the whole collected fhade reclines:
Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine-wrought,
And fresh bedew'd with ever-fpouting streams,
- Sits coolly calm; while all the world without,
Unsatisfied and fick, toffes in noon:

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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 shades! ye bowery thickets, hail!

Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks!

470

Ye afhes wild, refounding o'er the fteep!

Delicious is your shelter 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 shoots swift through all the lighten'd limbs. Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along

The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock,
Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool,
Now ftarting to a fudden ftream, and now

Gently

Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain;

A various groupe the herds and flocks compofe,

485

Rural confufion! on the graffy bank

Some ruminating lie; while others stand

Half in the flood, and, often bending, fip

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 ftill. Amid his fubjects fafe,

Slumbers the monarch-fwain; his careless arm
Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd; 495
Here laid his fcrip, with wholesome viands fill'd;

There, liftening 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 severity of noon;
While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan
Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills.

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

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505

While his big finews full of spirits swell,
Trembling with vigour, in the heat of blood,

510

Springs the high fence; and, o'er the field effus'd,
Darts on the gloomy flood, with stedfast eye,
And heart estrang'd to fear: his nervous cheft,
Luxuriant, and erect! the feat of strength!
Bears down th' oppofing stream: quenchless his thirft;

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 wildest largest growth:
That, forming high in air a woodland quire,
Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every step,
Solemn, and flow, the fhadows blacker fall,
And all is awful liftening gloom around.

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

520

Convers'd with angels and immortal forms,

525

On gracious errands bent: to save the fall

Of virtue ftruggling on the brink of vice;
In waking whifpers, and repeated dreams,

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

530

To 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;

535

And numberlefs fuch offices of love

Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform.

Shook fudden from the bofom of the sky,

A thousand shapes or glide athwart the dusk,

Or ftalk majestic on. Deep-rous'd, I feel

549

A facied terror, a severe delight,

Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, methinks,

A voice, than human more, th' abftracted ear

Of

Of fancy strikes. "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 pursuit. "Once fome of us, like thee, through ftormy life, "Toil'd, tempeft-beaten, ere we could attain "This holy calm, this harmony of mind, "Where purity and peace immingle charms. "Then fear not us; but with refponfive fong, "Amid thefe dim receffes, undisturb'd "By noify folly and discordant vice,

Of Nature fing with us, and Nature's God. "Here frequent, at the visionary hour,

"When mufing midnight reigns or filent noon, "Angelic harps are in full concert heard,

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550

555

"And voices chaunting from the wood-crown'd hill, « The deepening dale, or inmost sylvan glade : 560 "A privilege bestow'd by us, alone,

"On Contemplation, or the hallow'd ear
"Of Poet, fwelling to feraphic ftrain.”

And art thou, Stanley, of that facred band?
Alas, for us too soon! 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 fecks thee ftill, in many a former scene;
Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely beaming eyes,

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570

* A young lady, who died at the age of eighteen, in the year 1738. See her epitaph in Vol. II.

Thy