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Thy pleafing converfe, by gay lively fenfe
Infpir'd: where moral wisdom mildly fhone,
Without the toil of art; and virtue glow'd,
In all her fmiles, without forbidding pride.
But, O thou best of parents! wipe thy tears;
Or rather to Parental Nature pay

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The tears of grateful joy, who for a while

Lent thee this younger felf, this opening bloom
Of thy enlighten'd mind and gentle worth.
Believe the Muse: the wintery blast of death
Kills not the buds of virtue; no, they spread,
Beneath the heavenly beam of brighter funs,
Through endless ages, into higher powers.

Thus up the mount, in aëry vifion rapt,

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I ftray, regardless whither; till the found
Of a near fall of water every fenfe

I check my steps, and view the broken scene.
Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood

Wakes from the charm of thought: fwift-shrinking

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Rolls fair, and placid; where collected all,
In one impetuous torrent, down the steep
It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.
At first, an azure fheet, it rushes broad;
Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls,
And from the loud-refounding rocks below
Dafh'd in a cloud of foam, it fends aloft
A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower.
Nor can the tortur'd wave here find repose:
But, raging ftill amid the shaggy rocks,
Now flashes o'er the scatter'd fragments, now

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Aflant

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Aflant the hollow channel rapid darts;
And, falling faft from gradual flope to flope,
With wild infracted courfe, and leffen'd roar,
It gains a fafer bed, and steals, at last,
Along the mazes of the quiet vale.

Invited from the cliff, to whose dark brow
He clings, the fteep-afcending eagle foars,
With upward pinions through the flood of day;
And, giving full his bofom to the blaze,
Gains on the fun; while all the tuneful race,
Smit by afflictive noon, diforder'd droop,
Deep in the thicket; or, from bower to bower
Refponfive, force an interrupted ftrain.
The ftock-dove only through the forest cooes,
Mournfully hoarfe; oft ceafing from his plaint,
Short interval of weary woe! again
The fad idea of his murder'd mate,

Struck from his fide by favage fowler's guile,
Acrofs his fancy comes; and then refounds
A louder fong of forrow through the grove.
Befide the dewy border let me fit,

All in the freshness of the humid air;

There in that hollow'd rock, grotesque and wild,
An ample chair mofs-lin❜d, and over head
By flowering umbrage fhaded: where the bee
Strays diligent, and with th' extracted balm

Of fragrant woodbine loads his little thigh.
Now, while I tafte the sweetness of the shade,
While Nature lies around deep-lull'd in Noon,
Now come bold Fancy, fpread a daring flight,

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And

And view the wonders of the torrid Zone:
Climes unrelenting! with whofe rage compar'd,
Yon blaze is feeble, and yon fkies are cool.
See, how at once the bright effulgent fun,
Rifing direct, swift chaces from the sky

The short-liv'd twilight; and with ardent blaze
Looks gaily fierce through all the dazzling air :
He mounts his throne; but kind before him fends,
Iffuing from out the portals of the morn,

The general Breeze, to mitigate his fire,
And breathe refreshment on a fainting world.
Great are the scenes, with dreadful beauty crown'd
And barbarous wealth, that fee each circling year,
Returning funs and † double feafons pafs:

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Rocks rich in gems, and mountains big with mines,
That on the high equator ridgy rise,

Whence many a bursting stream auriferous plays:
Majestic woods, of every vigorous green,

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Stage above ftage, high waving o'er the hills; 650
Or to the far horizon wide diffus'd,

A boundless deep immenfity of shade.
Here lofty trees, to ancient fong unknown,
The noble fons of potent heat and floods

* Which blows conftantly between the tropics from the eaft, or the collateral points, the north-eaft and the fouth-eaft caufed by the preffure of the rarefied air on that before it, according to the diurnal motion of the fun from eaft to west.

:

In all climates between the tropics, the fun, as he paffes and repaffes in his annual motion, is twice a-year vertical, which produces this effect. F

VOL. I.

Prone

Prone rushing from the clouds, rear high to heaven
Their thorny ftems, and broad around them throw
Meridian gloom. Here, in eternal prime,
Unnumber'd fruits of keen delicious tafte
And vital spirit, drink amid the cliffs,
And burning fands that bank the shrubby vales,
Redoubled day, yet in their rugged coats
A friendly juice to cool its rage contain.
Bear me, Pomona! to thy citron groves;
To where the lemon and the piercing lime,

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With the deep orange, glowing through the green, 665
Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclin'd
Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes,

Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit.
Deep in the night the maffy locuft sheds

Quench my hot limbs; or lead me through the maze,
Embowering endless, of the Indian fig;

Or, thrown at gayer eafe, on fome fair brow,
Let me behold, by breezy murmurs cool'd,
Broad o'er my head the verdant cedar wave,
And high palmetos lift their graceful shade.
Or ftretch'd amid thefe orchards of the fun,
Give me to drain the cocoa's milky bowl,

And from the palm to draw its freshening wine!
More bounteous far than all the frantic juice

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Which Bacchus pours. Nor, on its flender twigs 680
Low-bending, be the full pomegranate fcorn'd;
Nor, creeping through the woods, the gelid race
Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells
Unboaftful worth, above faftidious pomp.

Witnefs,

Witnefs, thou beft Anâna, thou the pride
Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er

The poets imag'd in the golden age:

Quick let me ftrip thee of thy tufty coat,

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Spread thy ambrofial ftores, and feast with Jove!
From these the profpect varies. Plains immenfe 690
Lie ftretch'd below, interminable meads

And vaft favannahs, where the wandering eye,
Unfixt, is in a verdant ocean loft.

Another Flora there, of bolder hues,

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And richer sweets, beyond our garden's pride,
Plays o'er the fields, and fhowers with fudden hand
Exuberant fpring; for oft these vallies shift
Their green-embroider'd robe to fiery brown,
And swift to green again, as fcorching funs,
Or ftreaming dews and torrent rains, prevail.
Along thefe lonely regions, where retir'd,
From little scenes of art, great Nature dwells
In awful folitude, and nought is seen
But the wild herds that own no master's stall,
Prodigious rivers roll their fattening feas :
On whose luxuriant herbage, half-conceal'd,
Like a fall'n cedar, far diffus'd his train,
Cas'd in green fcales, the crocodile extends.
The flood difparts: behold! in plaited mail,

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# Behemoth rears his head. Glanc'd from his fide, 710 The darted fteel in idle fhivers flies:

He fearless walks the plain, or feeks the hills ;

*The Hippopotamus, or river-horse.

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