Whose work is without labor, whofe designs And whofe beneficence no charge exhausts. And Flora and Vertumnus; peopling earth That were not, and commending as they would Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows, Rules univerfal nature. Not a flow'r But shows fome touch'in freckle, ftreak or ftain, Their balmy odors and imparts their hues, The forms with which he fprinkles all the earth. Of flavour or of fcent in fruit or flow'r, And these diffolving fnows, and this clear ftream Who then, that has a mind well ftrung and tun'd To contemplation, and within his reach A scene fo friendly to his fav'rite task, Would waste attention at the chequer'd board, His hoft of wooden warriors to and fro Marching Marching and counter-marching, with an eye As fixt as marble, with a forehead ridg'd To trivial toys, and, pushing iv'ry balls Akin to rapture, when the bawble finds Its deftin'd goal, of difficult accefs, Nor deems he wifer him, who gives his noon And footh'd into a dream that he difcerns. The diff'rence of a Guido from a daub, Frequents the crowded auction. Station'd there As duly as the Langford of the show, With glafs at eye, and catalogue in hand, He notes it in his book, then raps his box, Here, unmolested, through whatever fign The fun proceeds, I wander. Neither mift, Nor freezing fky, nor fultry, checking me, Nor ftranger intermeddling with my joy. Ev'n in the spring and play-time of the year, That calls th' unwonted villager abroad With all her little ones, a sportive train, To gather king-cups in the yellow mead, And prink their hair with daisies, or to pick A cheap but wholesome fallad from the brook, These shades are all my own. The tim'rous hare, 4 Grown Grown fo familiar with her frequent gueft, Where, on his bed of wool and matted leaves, The fquirrel, flippant, pert, and full of play: He fees me, and at once, swift as a bird, Afcends the neighb'ring beach; there whisks his brush, The heart is hard in nature, and unfit For human fellowship, as being void Of fympathy, and therefore dead alike To love and friendship both, that is not pleas'd |