Noon-Day Heat described.

Beam not so fierce. Incessant still you flow,
And still another fervent flood succeeds,
Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh,
And restless turn, and look around for Night;
Night is far off; and hotter hours approach.
Thrice happy he! who on the sunless side
Of a romantic mountain, forest-crown'd,
Beneath the whole collected shade reclines
Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine-wrought,
And fresh-bedew'd with ever-spouting streams,
Sits coolly calm; while all the world without,
Unsatisfied, and sick, tosses in noon.

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460

Emblem instructive of the virtuous Man,

465

Who keeps his temper'd mind serene, and pure;

And every passion aptly harmoniz'd,

Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd.

Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery thickets hail!

Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks!

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Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep!
Delicious is your shelter to the soul,

As to the hunted hart the sallying spring,

Or stream full-flowing, that his swelling sides
Laves, as he floats along the herbag'd brink.

475

Shepherd and his Flock.

Cool, through the nerves, your pleasing comfort glides; The heart beats glad; the fresh-expanded eye

And ear resume their watch; the sinews knit;

And life shoots swift through all the lightened limbs.
Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along 480
The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock,
Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool,
Now starting to a sudden stream, and now
Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain;

A various group the herds and flocks compose,

485

Rural confusion! On the grassy bank

Some ruminating lie; while others stand
Half in the flood, and often bending sip
The circling surface. In the middle droops
The strong laborious ox, of honest front,

490

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

Returning still. Amid his subjects safe,

Slumbers the monarch-swain; his careless arm

Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd; 495 Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fill'd; There, listening every noise, his watchful dog.

Light fly his slumbers, if perchance a flight

A solemn Grove described.

Of angry gad-flies fasten on the herd;

500

That startling scatters from the shallow brook,
In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam,
They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain,
Through all the bright severity of noon;
While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan
Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills. 505
Oft in this season too the horse, provok'd,
While his big sinews full of spirits swell;
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,

And heart estrang'd to fear: his nervous chest,
Luxuriant, and erect, the seat of strength,

510

Bears down th' opposing stream: quenchless his thirst, He takes the river at redoubled draughts;

And with wide nostrils, snorting, 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 slow, the shadows blacker fall, And all is awful listening gloom around.

520

A solemn Grove described.

These are the haunts of Meditation; these

525

The scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring breath,
Ecstatic, felt; and, from this world retir'd,
Convers'd with angels, and immortal forms,
On gracious errands bent: to save the fall
Of virtue struggling on the brink of vice;
In waking whispers, and repeated dreams,

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

530

To prompt the poet, who devoted gives

His muse to better themes; to sooth 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;

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And numberless such offices of love,

Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform.

Shook sudden from the bosom of the sky,

A thousand shapes or glide athwart the dusk,

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

540

A sacred terror, a severe delight,

Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, methinks,

A voice, than human more, th' abstracted ear

Of fancy strikes. "Be not of us afraid,

A solemn Grove described.

"Poor kindred Man! thy fellow-creatures, we 545 "From the same PARENT-POWER our beings drew, "The same our Lord, and laws, and great pursuit. "Once some of us, like thee, through stormy life, "Toil'd, tempest-beaten, ere we could attain "This holy calm, this harmony of mind, "Where purity and peace immingle charms.

" Then fear not us; but with responsive song, "Amid these dim recesses, undisturb'd

By noisy folly and discordant vice,

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

"When musing midnight reigns or silent noon, "Angelic harps are in full concert heard,

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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, swelling to seraphic strains."

And art thou, STANLEY, of that sacred 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

565