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E'er ftoop to mingle with the prowling herd,
And dip his tongue in gore? The beaft of prey,
Blood-ftain'd, deferves to bleed but you, ye flocks,
What have you done; ye peaceful people, what,
To merit death? You, who have giv'n us milk
In luscious ftreams, and lent us your own coat
Against the winter's cold? And the plain ox,
That harmless, honeft, guilelefs animal,
In what has he offended? he, whofe toil,
Patient and ever ready, clothes the land
With all the pomp of harvest; fhall he bleed,
And ftruggling groan beneath the cruel hands.
Ev'n of the clown he feeds? and that, perhaps,
To fwell the riot of th' autumnal feast,
Won by his labour? Thus the feeling heart
Would tenderly fuggeft: but 'tis enough,

In this late age, advent'rous, to have touch'd
Light on the numbers of the Samian fage.
High HEAV'N forbids the bold prefumptuous strain,
Whofe wifeft will has fix'd us in a state

That must not yet to pure perfection rise.

Now when the firft foul torrent of the brooks, Swell'd with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away,

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And, whit'ning, down their mofly-tinctur'd ftream
Defcends the billowy foam: now is the time,
While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile,
To tempt the trout. The well-diffembled fly,
The rod fine tap'ring with elastic spring,

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Snatch'd from the hoary fteed the floating line,
And all thy flender wat'ry stores prepare.
But let not on thy hook the tortur'd worm,
Convulfive, twist in agonizing folds ;

Which, by rapacious hunger swallow'd deep,
Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breast
Of the weak, helpless, uncomplaining wretch,
Harsh pain and horror to the tender hand.

WHEN with his lively ray the potent fun
Has pierc'd the streams, and rous'd the finny race,
Then, iffuing cheerful, to thy fport repair;
Chief fhould the western breezes curling play,
And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds..

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High to their fount, this day, amid the hills,
And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks;
The next, pursue their rocky-channel'd maze,
Down to the river, in whofe ample wave:
Their little naïads love to fport at large..
Juft in the dubious point, where with the pool
Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils
Around the ftone, or from the hollow'd bank
Reverted plays in undulating flow,

you

There throw, nice judging, the delufive fly;
And as lead it round in artful curve,
With eye attentive mark the fpringing game.
Strait as above the furface of the flood
They wanton rife, or urg'd by hunger leap,
Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook:

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Some lightly toffing to the graffy bank,
And to the shelving fhore flow-dragging fome,
With various hand proportion'd to their force.
If yet too young, and cafily deceiv'd,

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A worthless prey fcarce bends your pliant rod,
Him, piteous of his youth and the short space.
He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heav'n,
Soft difengage, and back into the stream.
The fpeckled captive throw. But should you lure
From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots
Of pendent trees, the monarch of the brook,,
Behoves you then to ply your finest art.
Long time he, following cautious, fcáns the fly;:
And oft attempts to feize it, but as oft
The dimpled water fpeaks his jealous fear.

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At laft, while haply o'er the fhaded fun

Paffes a cloud, he defperate takes the death,

With fullen plunge. At once he darts along,
Deep-ftruck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line;
Then feeks the fartheft ooze, the fhelt'ring weed, 430
The cavern'd bank, his old fecure abode :

And flies aloft, and. flounces round the pool,
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand,
That feels him ftill, yet to his furious courfe
Gives way, you, now retiring, following now
Across the stream, exhaust his idle
Till floating broad upon his breathlefs fide,

rage:

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And to his fate abandon'd, to the fhore

You gaily drag your unresisting prize.

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THUS pafs the temp'rate hours: but when the fun
Shakes from his noon-day throne the fcatt'ring clouds,
Ev'n fhooting liftless languor thro' the deeps;
Then feek the bank where flow'ring elders croud,
Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale

Its balmy effence breathes, where cowflips hang 445
The dewy head, where purple violets lurk,
With all the lowly children of the fhade:
Or lie reclin'd beneath yon fpreading afh,

Hung o'er the steep; whence, borne on liquid wing,.
The founding culver fhoots;. or where the hawk, 450.
High, in the beetling cliff, his airy builds.

There let the claffic page thy fancy lead

Thro' rural. fcenes; fuch as the Mantuan fwain
Paints in the matchlefs harmony of fong.

eye:

Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift:
Athwart imagination's vivid
Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd,
And loft in lonely mufing, in the dream,
Confus'd, of careless folitude, where mix
Ten thousand wand'ring images of things,
Soothe every guft of paffion into peace;
All but the fwellings of the foften'd heart,
That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind.

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BEHOLD yon breathing profpect bids the Mufe. Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint 465 Like nature? Can imagination boast,

Amid its gay creation, hues like, hers?

Or can it mix them with that matchless skill,
And lofe them in each other, as appears
In every bud that blows? If fancy then
Unequal fails beneath the pleafing task,

Ah what shall language do ? ah where find words
Ting'd with fo many colours; and whofe pow'r,
To life approaching, may perfume my lays
With that fine oil, those aromatic gales,
That inexhaustive flow continual round?

YET, tho' fuccefslefs, will the toil delight.

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Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts Have felt the raptures of refining love;

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And thou, AMANDA, come, pride of my fong! 480
Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself!

Come with those downcaft eyes, fedate and sweet,
Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the foul,
Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd,
Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart :
Oh come! and while the rofy-footed May
Steals blufhing on, together let us tread.
The morning-dews, and gather in their prime
Frefh-blooming flow'rs, to grace thy braided hair
And thy lov'd bofom that improves their sweets.

SEE, where the winding vale its lavish stores, Irriguous, fpreads. See, how the lily drinks The latent rill, fcarce oozing thro' the grafs, Of growth luxuriant; or the humid bank,

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