Sports of the Field reprehended.

They love the country, and none else, who seek For their own sake its silence and its shade. Delights which who would leave, that has a heart Susceptible of pity, or a mind

Cultur❜d and capable of sober thought,

For all the savage din of the swift pack,
And clamours of the field?-Detested sport,
That owes its pleasures to another's pain;
That feeds upon the sobs and dying shrieks
Of harmless nature, dumb, but yet endu'd
With eloquence, that agonies inspire,
Of silent tears and heart-distending sighs?
Vain tears, alas, and sighs, that never find

A corresponding tone in jovial souls!

Well-one at least is safe. One shelter'd hare
Has never heard the sanguinary yell
Of cruel man, exulting in her woes.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home,
Whom ten long years' experience of my care

Has made at last familiar; she has lost

The tame Hare.

Much of her vigilant and instinctive dread,
Not needful here, beneath a roof like mine.
Yes-thou may'st eat thy bread, and lick the hand
That feeds thee; thou may'st frolic on the floor
At evening, and at night retire secure

;

To thy straw couch, and slumber unalarm'd
For I have gain'd thy confidence, have pledg'd
All that is human in me to protect
Thine unsuspecting gratitude and love.
If I survive thee I will dig thy grave;
And, when I place thee in it, sighing, say,

I knew at least one hare that had a friend.

How various his employments whom the world Calls idle; and who justly, in return,

Esteems that busy world an idler too!

Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his

pen,

Delightful industry enjoy'd at home,

And nature in her cultivated trim

Dress'd to his taste, inviting him abroad

Various Employments.

Can he want occupation who has these?
Will he be idle who has much t'enjoy?
Me, therefore, studious of laborious ease,
Not slothful; happy to deceive the time,
Not waste it; and aware that human life
Is but a loan to be repaid with use,

When He shall call his debtors to account

From whom are all our blessings; bus'ness finds
Ev'n here while sedulous I seek t' improve,
At least neglect not, or leave unemploy'd,

The mind he gave me; driving it, though slack
Too oft, and much impeded in its work
By causes not to be divulg❜d in vain,

To its just point-the service of mankind
He that attends to his interior self,

That has a heart, and keeps it; has a mind

That hungers, and supplies it; and who seeks A social, not a dissipated life,

Has business; feels himself engaged t' achieve No unimportant, though a silent, task.

د

Pleasures of Retirement.

A life all turbulence and noise may seem,

To him that leads it, wise, and to be prais'd;
But wisdom is a pearl with most success
Sought in still water, and beneath clear skies.
He that is ever occupied in storms,

Or dives not for it, or brings up instead,
Vainly industrious, a disgraceful prize.

The morning finds the self-sequester'd man Fresh for his task, intend what task he may. Whether inclement seasons recommend His warm but simple home, where he enjoys, With her who shares his pleasures and his heart, Sweet converse, sipping calm the fragrant lymph Which neatly she prepares; then to his book, Well chosen, and not sullenly perus'd

In selfish silence, but imparted oft

As aught occurs that she may smile to hear,
Or turn to nourishment, digested well.

Or, if the garden with its many cares,

Rustic Occupations.

All well repaid, demand him, he attends
The welcome call, conscious how much the hand
Of lubbard labor needs his watchful eye,
Oft loit'ring lazily, if not o'erseen,
Or misapplying his unskilful strength.
Nor does he govern only or direct,

But much performs himself. No works indeed
That ask robust tough sinews, bred to toil,
Servile employ ; but such as may amuse,
Not tire, demanding rather skill than force.
Proud of his well-spread walls, he views his trees
That meet (no barren interval between)
With pleasure more than ev'n their fruits afford,
Which, save himself who trains them, none can feel:
These, therefore, are his own peculiar charge;
No meaner hand may discipline the shoots,
None but his steel approach them. What is weak,
Distemper'd, or has lost prolific pow'rs,

Impair'd by age, his unrelenting hand

Dooms to the knife: nor does he spare the soft