THE north-east spends his rage; he now shut up Within his iron cave, th' effufive fouth

150

Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven 145
Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers diftent.
At first a dusky wreath they feem to rise,
Scarce ftaining ether; but by fwift degrees,
In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour fails
Along, the loaded sky, and mingling deep
Sits on th' horizon round a fettled gloom:
Not fuch as wintry-ftorms on mortals shed;
Oppreffing life; but lovely, gentle, kind,
And full of every hope and every joy,
The wish of Nature. Gradual finks the breeze
Into a perfect calm; that not a breath

Is heard to quiver thro' the closing woods,
Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves
Of afpin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus'd
In glaffy breadth, feem thro' delufive lapfe
Forgetful of their courfe. 'Tis filence all,
And pleafing expectation. Herds and flocks
Drop the dry fprig, and mute-imploring eye
The falling verdure. Hush'd in short fufpenfe,
The plumy people ftreak their wings with oil,
To throw the lucid moisture trikling off;
And wait th' approaching fign to ftrike, at once,
Into the general choir. Even mountains, vales,
And forests feem, impatient, to demand

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165

The promis'd fweetness. Man fuperior walks

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Amid the glad creation, musing praise,

And looking lively gratitude. At last,

The clouds confign their treasures to the fields;
And, foftly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelufive drops, let all their moisture flow,
In large effufion, o'er the freshened world.

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The

The ftealing shower is fcarce to patter heard,
By fuch as wander thro' the foreft walks,

Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.

But who can hold the shade, while Heaven descends 180 In univerfal bounty, shedding herbs,

And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap?

Swift fancy fir'd anticipates their growth;

And, while the milky nutriment diftils,
Beholds the kindling country colour round.

THUS all day long the full-diftended clouds Indulge their genial ftores, and well-shower'd earth Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life;

185

Till, in the western sky, the downward fun
Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush
Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam.

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The rapid radiance inftantaneous strikes

Th'. illumin'd mountain, thro' the foreft ftreams,
Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mitt,

Far fmoaking o'er th' interminable plain,

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In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems.
Moift, bright, and green, the landskip laughs around
Full fwell the woods; their every mufic wakes,
Mix'd in wild concert with the warbling brooks
Increas'd, the diftant bleatings of the hills,
And hollow lows refponfive from the vales,
Whence blending all the fweetened zephyr fprings.
Mean time refracted from yon eastern cloud,
Beftriding earth, the grand ethereal bow
Shoots up immenfe; and every hue unfolds,
In fair proportion running from the red,
To where the violet fades into the sky.
Here, awful NEWTON, the diffolving clouds

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Form,

Form, fronting on the fun, thy showery prifm;
And to the fage-inftructed eye unfold

The various twine of light, by thee disclos'd

From the white mingling maze.

Not fo the fwain;
He wondering views the bright enchantment bend,
Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs
To catch the falling glory; but amaz'd

Beholds th' amufive arch before him fly,

Then vanish quite away. Still night fucceeds,
A foftened shade, and faturated earth
Awaits the morning-beam, to give to light,
Rais'd thro' ten thoufand different plaftic tubes,
The balmy treasures of the former day.

THEN spring the living herbs, profusely wild,
O'er all the deep green earth, beyond the power
Of botanist to number up their tribes:
Whether he fteals along the lonely dale,
In filent fearch; or thro' the foreft, rank

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215

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225

With waht the dull incurious weeds account,

Burfts his blind way; or climbs the mountain-rock,
Fir'd by the nodding verdure of its brow.

With fuch a liberal hand has Nature flung

230

Their feeds abroad, blown them about in winds,
Innumerous mix'd them with the nurfing mold,
The moistening current, and prolific rain.

BUT who their virtues can declare? who pierce,
With vision pure, into these secret stores
Of health, and life, and joy? the food of Man,
While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told
A length of golden years; unflesh'd in blood,
A ftranger to the favage arts of life,

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Death,

Death, rapine, carnage, furfeit, and disease,
The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world.

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245

a

THE firft fresh dawn then wak'd the gladdened race Of uncorrupted Man, nor blush'd to fee The sluggard sleep beneath its facred beam: For their light slumbers gently fum'd away; And up they rofe as vigorous as the fun, Or to the culture of the willing glebe, Or to the chearful tendance of the flock. Meantime the fong went round; and dance and sport, Wisdom and friendly talk, fucceffive ftole Their hours away: while in the rofy vale

250

Love breath'd his infant fighs, from anguish free,

And full replete with blifs; fave the fweet pain,

That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more.

Nor yet injurious act, nor furly deed,

255

Was known among thofe happy fons of HEAVEN;

For reafon and benevolence were law.

Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on.

Clear shone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales,
And balmy spirit all. The youthful fun
Shot his best rays, and ftill the gracious clouds
Drop'd fatnefs down; as o'er the fwelling mead,
The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd fecure.
This when, emergent from the gloomy wood,
The glaring lion faw, his horrid heart
Was meekened, and he join'd his fullen joy.

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265

For mufic held the whole in perfect peace:

Soft figh'd the flute; the tender voice was heard, Warbling the varied heart; the woodlands round Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flow'd 270 In confonance. Such were thofe prime of days.

But

Bur now thofe white unblemish'd minutes, whence The fabling poets took their golden age,

Are found no more amid these iron times,
Thefe dregs of life! Now the diftemper'd mind
Has loft that concord of harmonious powers,
Which forms the foul of happiness; and all

275

Is off the poife within the paffions all

Have burft their bounds; and reason half extinct,
Or impotent, or elfe approving, fees

280

The foul diforder. Senfelefs, and deform'd,

Convulfive anger ftorms at large; or pale,
And filent, fettles into fell revenge.

Bafe envy withers at another's joy,

And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
Defponding fear, of feeble fancies full,
Weak and unmanly, loofens every power.
Even love itself is bitterness of foul,"
A penfive anguish pining at the heart;
Or, funk to fordid intereft, feels no more
That noble wish, that never cloy'd defire,
Which, felfish joy difdaining, feeks alone
To blefs the dearer object of its flame.
Hope fickens with extravagance; and grief,
Of life impatient, into madness fwells;
Or in dead filence waftes the weeping hours.
These, and a thousand mix'd emotions more,
From ever-changing views of good and ill,
Form'd infinitely various, vex the mind.

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290

295

With endless storm: whence, deeply rankling, grows The partial thought, a liftlefs unconcern,

301

Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good;

Then dark difguft, and hatred, winding wiles,
Coward deceit, and ruffian violence:

At