Sidebilder
PDF
ePub
[merged small][ocr errors]

1. The Shephard and the Philofopher.

REMOTE from cities, liv'd a fwain,

A

Unvex'd with all the cares of gain.
His head was filver'd o'er with age,
And long experience made him fage:
In fummer's heat, and winter's cold,
He fed his flock, and penn'd the fold
His hours in cheerful labour flew,
Nor envy nor ambition knew:
His wisdom, and his honeft fame,
'Thro' all the country rais'd his name.
A deep philofopher (whofe rules
Of moral life were drawn from schools)
The fhepherd's homely cottage fought;
And thus explor'd his reach of thought
Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil
O'er books confum'd the midnight-oil?
Haft thou old Greece and Rome furvey'd,
And the vast fenfe of Plato weigh'd?
Hath Socrates thy foul refin'd ?/t
And haft thou fathom'd Tully's mind?
Or, like the wife Ulyffes, thrown

By various fates on realms unknown,
Haft thou thro' many cities ftray'd,
Their customs, laws, and manners weigh'd?
The fhepherd modeftly reply'd-

I ne'er the paths of learning try'd;
Nor have I roam'd in foreign parts,
To read mankind, their laws, and arts:
For man is practis'd in difguife;
He cheats the most difcerning eyes:
Who by that fearch fhall wiser grow,
When we ourselves can never know?

The little knowledge I have gain'd
Was all from fimple nature drain'd:
Hence my
life's maxims took their rife ;
Hence grew my fettled hate to vice.

The

The daily labours of the bee
Awake my foul to industry.
Who can obferve the careful ant,
And not provide for future want?
My dog (the truftieft of his kind)
With gratitude inflames my mind:
I mark his true, his faithful way;
And in my fervice copy Tray.
In conftancy and nuptial love,
I learn my duty from the dove.
The hen, who from the chilly air
With pious wing protects her care,
And every fowl that flies at large,
Inftructs me in a parent's charge.
From Nature, too, I take my
rule
To fhun contempt and ridicule.
I never, with important air,
In conversation overbear ;:

Can grave and formal pafs for wife,
When men the folemn owl defpife?
My tongue within my lips I rein;
For who talks much must talk in vain :
We from the wordy torrent fly:
Who liftens to the chatt'ring pye?
Nor would I with felonious flight,
By health invade my neighbour's right:
Rapacious animals we hate;

Kites, hawks, and wolves, deferve their fate.

Do not we just abhorrence find

Against the toad and ferpent kind?
But envy, calumny, and fpite,
Bear ftronger venom in their bite.-
Thus every object of creation
Can furnifh hints for contemplation;
And, from the moft minute and mean,
A virtuous mind can morals glean.
Thy fame is juft, the fage replies:-
Thy virtue proves thee truly wife.
Pride often guides the author's pen;
Books as affected are as men ::
But he who ftudies nature's laws,
From certain truth his maxims draws;;

And thofe, without our schools, fuffice
To make men moral, good, and wife.

II. Ode to Leven Water.

ON Leven's banks, while free to rove
And tune the rural pipe to love,

I envied not the happiest fwain
That ever trode th' Arcadian plain.
Pure stream! in whofe tranfparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents ftain thy limpid fource;
No rocks impede thy dimpling courfe,
That fweetly warbles o'er its bed,.
With white, round, polifh'd pebbles spread; {
While, lightly pois'd, the fealy brood,
In myriads, cleave thy cryftal flood:
The fpringing trout, in fpeckled pride;
The falmon, monarch of the tide;
The ruthless pike, intent on war ;
The filver eel, and mottled par. .
Devolving from thy parent lake,
A charming maze thy waters make,,
By bowers of birch and groves of pine,,
And hedges flower'd with eglantine.
Still on thy banks, fo gaily green,
May numerous herds and flocks be feen ;
And laffes, chanting, o'er the pail-;
And fhepherds, piping in the dale; :
And ancient faith, that knows no guile;
And industry, embrown'd with toil;
And hearts refolv'd, and hands prepar'd,
The bleffings they enjoy to guard.

III. Ode from the 19th Pfalm...

THE fpacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And fpangl'd heav'ns, a fhining frame,,
Their great original proclaim.
Th' unwearied fun, from day to day
Does his Creator's pow'r difplay;
And publishes to ev'ry land
The work of an Almighty hand.

[ocr errors]

Soon as the evening fhades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly, to the lift'ning earth,
Repeats the story of her birth:

Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings, as they roll,
And fpread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in folemn filence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though no real voice nor found
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In Reafon's ear they all rejoice
And utter forth a glorious voice,,
For ever finging as they fhine,
"The hand that made us is divine.""

IV. Rural Charms..

SWEET Auburn! lovelieft village of the plain !-
Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring fwain;;
Where fmiling fpring its earlieft vifit paid,

And parting fummer's ling'ring blooms delay'd: :
Dear lovely bow'rs of innocence and ease!
Seats of my youth, when ev'ry fport could please!
How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green,
Where humble happiness endear'd each scene!
How often have I paus'd on ev'ry charm!!
The fhelter'd cot, the cultivated farm,

The never-failing brook, the bufy mill,

The decent church that topp'd the neighbouring hill;
The hawthorn bufh, with feats beneath the fhade,,
For talking age and whifpering lovers made.
How often have I blefs'd the coming day,
When toil, remitting, lent its turn to play,
And all the village-train, from labour free,
Led up their fports beneath the fpreading tree!!
While many a pastime circled in the fhade,
The young contending as the old furvey'd ;
And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground,
And flights of art, and feats of ftrength, went round

And

And fill, as each repeated pleasure tir'd,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band infpir'd:
The dancing pair, that fimply fought renown
By holding out to tire each other down;
The fwain, miftruftlefs of his fmutted face,
While fecret laughter titter'd round the place;
The bafhful virgin's fide-long looks of love;
The matron's glance, that would thofe looks reprove.
Sweet was the found, when oft, at evening's close,
Up yonder hill the village murmur rofe.

There, as I pafs'd with carelefs fteps and flow,
The mingling notes came foften'd from below.
The fwain, refponfive as the milkmaid fung;
The fober herd, that low'd to meet their young;
The noify geefe, that gabbled o'er the pool;
The playful children, juft let loofe from school;
The watch-dog's voice, that bay'd the whifp'ring wind ;
And the loud laugh, that spoke the vacant mind:
Thefe all, in foft confufion, fought the fhade,
And, fill'd each paufe the nightingale had made.

V. The Painter who pleafed Nobody and Every Body..
JEST men fufped your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.

The trav'ller, leaping o'er thofe bounds,-
The credit of his book confounds;
Who with his tongue hath armies routed,
Makes ev❜n his real courage doubted.
But flatt'ry never feems abfurd;

The flatter'd always take your word:
Impoffibilities feem juft;

They take the ftrongeft praife on truft::
Hyperboles, though e'er fo great,
Will ftill come fhort of felf-conceit..
So very like a painter drew,
That every eye the picture knew;
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So juft, that life itself was there...
No flatt'ry with his colours laid,
To bloom reftor'd the faded maid;
He each muscle all its ftrength;:
The mouth, the chin, the nofe's length,,

gave

[ocr errors]
« ForrigeFortsett »