That seizes first the opulent, descends 585 The rich, and they that have an arm to check Desert their office; and themselves, intent On pleasure, haunt the capital, and thus 590 To all the violence of lawless hands Resign the scenes their presence might protect. Though resident, and witness of the wrong. The plump convivial parson often bears 595 The magisterial sword in vain, and lays Perhaps timidity restrains his arm; When he should strike he trembles, and sets free, 600 Th' audacious convict whom he dares not bind. 605 His milk-white hand; the palm is harldly clean- 610 A noble cause, which none, who bears a spark Of publick virtue, ever wish'd remov'd, 615 Works the deplor'd and mischievous effect. 'Tis universal soldiership has stabb❜d The heart of merit in the meaner class. 620 Seem most at variance with all moral good, But his own simple pleasures; now and then 625 The task perform'd, 630 That instant he becomes the sergeant's care, His pupil, and his torment, and his jest. Bent knees, round shoulders, and dejected looks, His awkward gait, his introverted toes, Procure him many a curse. By slow degrees, 635 Unapt to learn, and form'd of stubborn stuff, He yet by slow degrees puts off himself, Grows conscious of a change, and likes it well: 640 His form and movement; is as smart above As meal and larded locks can make him; wears His hat, or his plum'd helmet, with a grace; 645. 650 By lewdness, idleness, and sabbath breach, The great proficiency he made abroad; T' astonish, and to grieve his gazing friends; 655 To break some maiden's and his mother's heart: To be a pest where he was useful once; Are his sole aim, and all his glory, now. Man in society is like a flow'r Blown in its native bed; 'tis there alone 660 His faculties, expanded in full bloom, Shine out; there only reach their proper use. But man, associated and leagued with man By regal warrant or self-join'd by bond 665 Like flow'rs selected from the rest, and bound And bundled close to fill some crowded vase, 670 Hence charter'd boroughs are such publick plagues And burghers, men immaculate perhaps In all their private functions, once combin'd, 675 680 At the sword's point, and dying the white robe Of innocent commercial Justice red. Hence, too, the field of glory, as the world Misdeems it, dazzled by its bright array, 685 With all its majesty of thund'ring pomp, Enchanting musick, and immortal wreaths, Is but a school, where thoughtlessness is taught For folly, gallantry for ev'ry vice. 690 But slighted as it is, and by the great Abandon'd, and, which still I more regret, Infected with the manners and the modes It knew not once, the country wins me still. 695 But there I laid the scene. There early stray'd Had found me, or the hope of being free. 700 No bard could please me but whose lyre was tun'd 705 Of Tityrus, assembling, as he sang, The rustick throng beneath his fav'rite beech. 710 As twice seven years, his beauties had then first Engag'd my wonder; and admiring still, 715 And still admiring, with regret suppos'd The joy half lost, because not sooner found. 720 725 I still revere thee, courtly though retir'd; Though stretch'd at ease in Chertsey's silent bow'rs, 730 "Tis born with all: the love of Nature's works Is an ingredient in the compound man, Infus'd at the creation of the kind. And, though th' Almighty Maker has throughout Discriminated each from each, by strokes 735 And all can taste them: minds that have been form'd And tutor'd with a relish more exact, 741 But none without some relish, none unmov'd. It is a flame that dies not even there, Where nothing feeds it: neither business, crowds, 745 Whatever else they smother of true worth In human bosoms, quench it or abate. The villas, with which London stands begirt, 750 The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms 755 760 Of orange, myrtle, or the fragrant weed, The Frenchman's darling?* are they not all proofs, That man, immur'd in cites, still retains 766 His inborn inextinguishable thirst Of rural scenes, compensating his loss By supplemental shifts, the best he may? The most unfurnish'd with the means of life, 770 And they, that never pass their brick-wall bounds, * Mignionette, |