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Save where the flow'ret breathes uncultur'd sweets,
Save where the patient Monk receives the poor.

Yet let not these rude paths be coldly trac'd,
Let not these wilds with listless step be trod,

Here Fragrance scorns not to perfume the waste,
Here Charity uplifts the mind to God.

His humble board the holy man prepares,

And simple food, and wholesome lore bestows,

Extols the treasures that his mountain bears, i

And paints the perils of impending snows.

For whilst bleak Winter numbs with chilling hand,
Where frequent crosses mark the traveler's fate,

In slow procession moves the merchant band,
And silent bends, where tott'ring ruins wait.

Yet 'midst those ridges, 'midst that drifted snow,
Can Nature deign her wonders to display:

Here Adnlaria shines with vivid glow,
And gems of crystal sparkle to the day.

Here too, the hoary mountain's brow to grace,
Five'silver lakes, in tranquil state are seen;

While from their waters, many a stream we trace,
That, 'scap'd from bondage, roll the rocks between.

Here Hows the Reuss to seek her wedded love,
And with the Rhine, Germanic climes explore;

Her stream I mark'd, and saw her wildly move
Down the bleak mountain, thro' the craggy shore.

My weary footsteps hop'd for rest in vain,
For steep on steep, in rude confusion rose;

At length I paus'd above a fertile plain,
That promis'd shelter, and foretold repose.

Fair runs the streamlet o'er the pasture green,
Its margin gay, with flocks and cattle spread;

Embowering trees the peaceful village screen,

And guard from snow each dwelling's jutting shed.

Sweet vale! whose bosom wastes and cliffs surround, Let me awhile thy friendly shelter share!

Emblem of life! where some bright hours are found.
Amidst the darkest, dreariest years of care.

Delv'd thro' the rock, the secret passage bends,
Majestic horrors strike the dazzled sight;

Beneath the pendant bridge the stream descends
Calm—''till it tumbles o'er the frowning height.

We view the fearful pass—we wind along

The path that marks the terrors of our way—

'Midst beetling rocks, and hanging woods among, The torrent pours, and throws its glittering spray.

Weary at length, serener scenes we hail,

More cultur'd groves o'ershade the grassy meads,

The neat tho' wooden hamlets deck the vale,
And Altorf's spires recal heroic deeds.

But tho' no more amidst those scenes I roam,
My fancy long each image shall retain;

The flock's returning to its welcome home,
And the wild carol of the cow-herd's strain.

Lucernia's lake its glassy surface shews,

Whilst Nature's varied beauties deck its side;

Here rocks and woods its narrow waves inclose,
And there its spreading bosom opens wide.

And hail the chapeH hail the platform wild!

Where Tell directed the avenging dart, With well strung arm, that first preserv'd his child,

Then wing'd the arrow to the tyrant's heart.

Across the lake, and deep embower'd in wood,

Behold another hallow'd chapel stands,
Where three Swiss heroes lawless force withstood,

And stamp'd the freedom of their native land.

Their liberty requir'd no rites uncouth,

No blood demanded, and no slaves enchain'd;

Her rule was gentle, and her voice was truth,
By social order form'd, by laws restrain'd.

We quit the lake—and cultivation's toil

With Nature's charms combin'd, adorns the way; And well earn'd wealth improves the ready soil,

And simple manners still maintain their sway.

Farewell Helvetia! from whose lofty breast
Proud Alps arise, and copious rivers flow;

Where, source of streams, eternal glaciers rest,
And peaceful science gilds the plains below.

Oft on thy rocks the wond'ring eye shall gaze,
Thy vallies oft the raptur'd bosom seek;

There, Nature's hand her boldest work displays,
Here, bliss domestic beams on ev'ry cheek.

Hope of my Life! dear children of my heart!

That anxious heart, to each fond feeling true, To you still pants each pleasure to impart,

And more, oh transport! reach its home and you".

RURAL SPORTS.

A GEORGIC.

[gat.]

Inscribed to Mr. Pope, 1713.

« Securi prelia ruris

Pandimus." Nemeticm.

CANTO I.

You, who the sweets of rural life have known>
Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the town;
In Windsor groves your easy hours employ,
And, undisturb'd, yourself and muse enjoy.
Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows.
And no rude wind through rustling osiers blows;
While all his wond'ring nymphs around thee throng,
To hear the syrens warble in thy song.

But I, who ne'er was blest by fortune's hand,
Nor brighten'd ploughshares in paternal land,
Long in the noisy town have been immur'd,
Respir'd its smoke, and all its cares endur'd;
Where news and politics divide mankind,
And schemes of state involve th' uneasy mind.

VOL. III. E

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