Then fnug enclosures in the fhelter'd vale,

Where frequent hedges intercept the eye,
Delight us; happy to renounce awhile,
Not fenfeless of its charms, what still we love,
That fuch fhort abfence may endear it more.
Then forests, or the favage rock, may please,
That hides the fea-mew in his hollow clefts
Above the reach of man. His hoary head,
Confpicuous many a league, the mariner,
Bound homeward, and in hope already there,
Greets with three cheers exulting. At his waift
A girdle of half-wither'd fhrubs he fhows,
And at his feet the baffled billows die.

The common, overgrown with fern, and rough
With prickly gorfe, that, shapeless and deform'd,
And dang'rous to the touch, has yet its bloom,
And decks itself with ornaments of gold,
Yields no unpleafing ramble; there the turf

Smells fresh, and, rich in odorif'rous herbs

And fungous fruits of earth, regales the sense
With luxury of unexpected fweets.

There often wanders one, whom better days Saw better clad, in cloak of fatin trimm'd With lace, and hat with fplendid ribband bound. A ferving maid was fhe, and fell in love With one who left her, went to sea, and died. Her fancy follow'd him through foaming waves To distant fhores; and fhe would fit and weep At what a failor fuffers; fancy, too,

Delusive moft where warmest wishes are,

Would oft anticipate his glad return,

And dream of transports she was not to know.
She heard the doleful tidings of his death-
And never fmil'd again! And now the roams
The dreary wafte; there spends the livelong day,
And there, unless when charity forbids,
The livelong night. A tatter'd apron hides,

Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown

14

More tatter'd ftill; and both but ill conceal

A bosom heav'd with never-ceafing fighs.

She begs an idle pin of all the meets,

And hoards them in her fleeve; but needful food, !
Though prefs'd with hunger oft, or comelier clothes,
Though pinch'd with cold, afks never.-Kate is craz'd!

I fee a column of flow rifing fmoke

O'ertop the lofty wood that skirts the wild.
A vagabond and useless tribe there eat
Their miferable meal. A kettle, flung
Between two poles upon a stick tranfverfe,
Receives the morfel-flesh obscene of dog,
Or vermin, or, at beft, of cock purloin'd
From his accuftom'd perch. Hard-faring race!
They pick their fuel out of ev'ry hedge,

Which, kindled with dry leaves, juft faves unquench'd

The spark of life. The sportive wind blows wide
Their flutt'ring rags, and fhows a tawny skin,

The vellum of the pedigree they claim.

Great skill have they in palmistry, and more
To conjure clean away the gold they touch,

Conveying worthlefs drofs into its place;

Loud when they beg, dumb only when they steal. :
Strange! that a creature rational, and caft

In human mould, fhould brutalize by choice
His nature; and, though capable of arts

By which the world might profit, and himself,
Self-banish'd from fociety, prefer

Such fqualid floth to honourable toil!

Yet even these, though, feigning fickness oft,

They fwathe the forehead, drag the limping limb, And vex their flesh with artificial fores,

Can change their whine into a mirthful note

When fafe occafion offers; and, with dance,

And music of the bladder and the bag,

Beguile their woes, and make the woods refound.

Such health and gaiety of heart enjoy

The houseless rovers of the fylvan world;

And, breathing wholesome air, and wand'ring much,

Need other phyfic none to heal th' effects

Of loathfome diet, penury, and cold.

Bleft he, though undistinguish'd from the crowd By wealth or dignity, who dwells fecure,

Where man, by nature fierce, has laid aside

His fierceness; having learnt, though flow to learn,
The manners and the arts of civil life.

His wants, indeed, are many; but fupply
Is obvious, plac'd within the easy reach
Of temp'rate wishes and induftrious hands.
Here virtue thrives, as in her proper foil;
Not rude and furly, and befet with thorns,
And terrible to fight, as when she springs
(If e'er fhe fpring fpontaneous) in remote
And barb'rous climes, where violence prevails,
And strength is lord of all; but gentle, kind,
By culture tam'd, by liberty refresh'd,
And all her fruits by radiant truth matur'd.
War and the chafe engrofs the favage whole