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THE

TASK.

BOOK VI.

ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH BOOK.

Bells at a distance.Their effetl.A fine noon in "winter.A jheltered walk.Meditation better than books.Our familiarity with the course of nature makes it appear less wonderful than it is.—The transformation that spring effects in a florubbery described. A mistake concerning the course of nature corrected.Ced maintains it by an unremitted act. The amusements fashionable at this hour of the day reproved.Animals happy y a delightful fight.Origin of cruelty to animals.That it is a great crime proved from scripture.That proof illustrated by a tale.A line drawn between the lawful and unlawful destruction of them.Their good and useful properties insisted on.Apology for the encomiums bestowed by the author on animals.Instances of man's extravagant praise of man.The groans of the creation shall have an end.A view taken of the restoration of all things.An invocation and an invitation of him who shall'bring it to pess.The retired man vindicated from the charge of vselejfness.Conclusion.

THE

ASK.

BOOK VI.
THE WINTER WALK AT NOON.

There is in fouls a sympathy with sounds;
And, as the mind is pitch'd, the ear is pleas'd
With melting airs, or martial,, brisk, or grave:
Some chord in unison with what we hear
Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear
In cadence sweet, now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on]
With easy force it opens all the cells

Where mem'ry slept. Wherever I have heard
A kindred melody, the scene recurs,
And with it all its pleasures and its pains.
Such comprehensive views the spirit takes,
That in a few short moments' I retrace
(As in a map the voyager his course)
The windings of my way through many years.
Short as in retrospect the journey seems,
It feem'd not always short; the rugged path,
And prospect.oft so dreary and forlorn,
Mov'd many a sigh at its disheart'ning length.
Yet, feeling present evils, while the past
Faintly impress the mind, or not at all,
How readily we wish time spent revok'd,
That we might try the ground again, where once
(Through inexperience, as we now perceive)
We miss'd that happiness we might have found!
Some friend is gone, perhaps his son's best friend'
A father, whose authority, in show

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