But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,
Each with contracting, fits him to the foil.
Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose,
Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes;
With patient angle trolls the finny deep,
Or drives his vent'rous plough-fhare to the fteep;
Or feeks the den where fnow-tracks mark the way,
And drags the ftruggling favage into day.
At night returning, every labour sped,
He fits him down the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys
His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard,
Difplays her cleanly platter on the board:
And haply too fome pilgrim thither led,
With many a tale repays the nightly bed.
Thus every good his native wilds impart,
Imprints the patriot paffion on his heart;
And e'en those hills that round his mansion rife,
Enhance the blifs his fcanty fund supplies.
Dear is that fhed to which his foul conforms,
And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms:
And as a child, when scaring founds moleft,
Clings clofe and closer to the mother's breast;
So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar,
But bind him to his native mountains more.

Such are the charms to barren ftates affign'd:
Their wants but few, their wifhes all confin'd.
Yet let them only share the praises due ;
If few their wants, their pleasures are but few :
For every want that ftimulates the breaft
Becomes a fource of pleasure when redrest.
Whence from fuch lands each pleafing science flies,
That first excites defire, and then fupplies;
Unknown to them, when fenfual pleasures cloy,
To fill the languid pause with finer joy;
Unknown thofe pow'rs that raise the foul to flame,
Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame.
Their level life is but a mould'ring fire,
Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong defire;
Unfit for raptures; or, if raptures cheer
On fome high festival of once a year,
In wild excels the vulgar breast takes fire,
Till buried in debauch the blifs expire.

But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow;
Their morals like their pleatures are but low:
For, as refinement stops, from fire to fon,
Unalter'd, unimprov'd, the manners run;
And love's and friendship's finely pointed dart
Falls blunted from each indurated heart.
Some fterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast
May fit like falcons cowering on the neft

But all the gentler morals, fuch as piay

t;

Through life's more cultur'd walks, and charm the way; These far difpers'd, on timorous pinions fly,

To fport and flutter in a kinder sky.

To kinder skies where gentler manners reign,
I turn-and France difplays her bright domain.
Gay, fprightly land of mirth and focial eafe,
Pleas'd with thyfelf, whom all the world can please:
How often have I led thy fportive choir,
With tunelefs pipe, befide the murm'ring Loire !
Where fhading elms along the margin grew,
And, freshen'd from the wave, the zephyr flew ;
And haply, though my harth touch falt'ring ftill
But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill,
Yet would the village praise my wondrous power,
And dance forgetful of the noon-tide hour!
Alike all ages: dames of ancient days

Have led their children through the mirthful maze :
And the gay grandfire, skill'd in geftic lore,
Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threefcore.
So gay a life these thoughtless realms display;
Thus idly bufy rolls their world away.

Theirs are thofe arts that mind to mind endear ;
For honour forms the focial temper here.
Honour, that praife which real merit gains,
Or e'en imaginary worth obtains,

Here paffes current; paid from hand to hand,
It fhifts in fplendid traffic round the land.
From courts to camps, to cottages, it trays,
And all are taught an avarice of praise :
They pleafe, are pleas'd, they give to get efteem,
Till, feeming bleft, they grow to what they feem.
But while this fofter art their blifs fupplies,
It gives their follies alfo room to rife ;
For praise too dearly lov'd or warmly fought,
Enfeebles all internal ftrength of thought;

And the weak foul, within itself unbleft,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
Hence oftentation here, with tawdry art,
Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart :
Here vanity affumes her pert grimace,

And trims her robes of frieze with copper-lace;
Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,
To boast one fplendid banquet once a year:
The mind still turns where fhifting fafhion draws,
Nor weighs the folid worth of felf applaufe.
To men of other minds my fancy flies,
Embofom'd in the deep where Holland lies.
Methinks her patient fons before me stand,
Where the broad ocean leans against the land:
And, fedulous to top the coming tide,
Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride.
Onward methinks, and diligently flow,
The firm connected bulwark feems to grow ;
Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar,
Scoops out an empire, and ufurps the fhore!
While the pent ocean, rifing o'er the pile,
Sees an amphibious world beneath him fmile!
The flow canal, the yellow-bloffom'd vale,
The willow-tufted bank, the gliding fail,
The crowded mart, the cultivated plain,
A new creation rescu'd from his reign.

Thus, while around the wave-subjected foil
Impels the native to repeated toil,
Industrious habits in each bofom reign,

And industry begets a love of gain.

Hence all the good from opulence that fprings,

With all thofe ills fuperfluous treasure brings,

Are here difplay'd. Their much lov'd wealth imparts Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts;

But, view them clofer, craft and fraud appear;
E'en liberty itself is barter'd here.
At gold's fuperior charms all freedom flies
The needy fell it, and the rich man buys;
A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves,
Here wretches seek difhonourable graves;
And, calmly bent, to fervitude conform,
Dull as their lakes that flumber in the storm.
O! how unlike their Belgic fires of old;
Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold;

War in each breast, and freedom on each brow!
How much unlike the fons of Britain now!

Fir'd at the found, my Genius fpreads her wing,
And flies where Britain courts the western spring;
Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride,
And brighter ftreams than fam'd Hydafpes glide.
There all around the gentleft breezes ftray,
There gentle mufic melts on every spray;
Creation's mildest charms are there combin'd;
Extremes are only in the master's mind ;
Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her ftate,
With daring aims irregularly great;
Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I fee the lords of human-kind pass by;
Intent on high defigns, a thoughtful band :
By forms unfafhion'd fresh from nature's hand;
Fierce in their native hardiness of soul,

True to imagin'd right, above control;
While e'en the peafant boasts thefe rights to fcan,
And learns to venerate himself as man.

Thine, freedom, thine the bleffings pictur'd here,
Thine are those charms, that dazzle and endear;
Too blefs'd indeed were fuch without alloy,
But fofter'd e'en by freedom ills annoy.
That independence Britons prize too high,
Keeps man from man, and breaks the focial tie;
The felf-dependent lordlings ftand alone :
All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown.
Here, by the bonds of nature feebly held,
Minds combat minds, repelling and repell'd;
Ferments arise, imprison'd factions roar,
Reprefs'd ambition ftruggles round her fhore;
Till over-wrought, the general fyftem feels
Its motion ftop, or phreuzy fires the wheels.
Nor this the worst. As nature's ties decay,
As duty, love, and honour fail to fway,
Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law,
Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe..
Hence all obedience bows to these alone,
And talents fink, and merit weeps unknown;
Till time may come, when, ftripp'd of all her charms,
The land of fcholars, and the nurse of arms,

Where noble stems tranfmit the patriot flame,
Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for fame,

U

One fink of level avarice fhall lie,
And scholars, foldiers, kings, unhonour'd die.
Yet think not thus, when freedom's ills I state,
I mean to flatter kings, or court the great.
Ye powers of truth, that bid my foul afpire,
Far from my bofom drive the low defire!
And thou, fair freedom, taught alike to feel
The rabble's rage, and tyrant's angry fteel;
Thou tranfitory flower, alike undone

By proud contempt, or favour's foftering fun,
Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure
I only would reprefs them, to fecure :
For juft experience tells, in every foil,

That thofe who think muft govern those who toil
And all that freedom's highest aims can reach,
Is but to lay proportion'd loads on each :
Hence, fhould one order difproportion'd grow,
Its double weight muft ruin all below.

O then, how blind to all that truth requires,
Who think it freedom when a part afpires!
Calm is my foul, nor apt to rife in arms,
Except when faft-approaching danger warms
But when contending chiefs blockade the throne,
Contracting regal pow'r to ftretch their own;
When I behold a factious band agree

To call it freedom when themselves are free;
Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw,
Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law;
The wealth of climes, where favage nations roam,
Pillag'd from flaves, to purchafe flaves at home;
Fear, pity, justice, indignation, start,

Tear off referve, and bare my fwelling heart;
Till half a patriot, half a coward grown,
I fly from petty tyrants, to the throne.
Ah brother! how difaftrous was that hour,
When first ambition ftruck at regal power;
And thus, polluting honour in its fource,
Gave wealth to fway the mind with double force!
Have we not feen round Britain's peopled fhore,
Her useful fons exchang'd for useless ore;
Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste,
Like flaring tapers, bright'ning as they wafte;
Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain,
Lead ftern depopulation in her train ;

U