The villas with which London ftands begirt, Like a fwarth Indian, with his belt of beads, Prove it. A breath of unadult'rate air, The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer The citizen, and brace his languid frame! Ev'n in the ftifling bofom of the town,
A garden in which nothing thrives, has charms That footh the rich poffeffor; much confol'd, That here and there fome sprigs of mournful mint, Of nightshade, or valerian, grace the well He cultivates. Thefe ferve him with a hint, That Nature lives, that fight-refreshing green Is ftill the livery fhe delights to wear, Though fickly famples of th' exub'rant whole. What are the cafements lin❜d with creeping herbs, The prouder fathes fronted with a range, Of Orange, myrtle, or the fragrant weed, The Frenchman's * darling? are they not all proofs, That man, immur'd in cities, still retains
His inborn inextinguishable thirst
Of rural fcenes, compenfating his lofs, By fupplemental fhifts, the beft he may? The most unfurnish'd with the means of life,
And they that never pafs their brick-wall bounds, To range the fields, and treat their lungs with air, Yet feel the burning inftinct: over-head,
Sufpend their crazy boxes, planted thick,
And water'd duly. There the pitcher ftands
A fragment, and the fpoutlefs tea-pot there; Sad witneffes how clofe-pent man regrets The country, with what ardour he contrives, A
peep at nature, when he can no more.
Hail, therefore, patronefs of health, and cafe, And contemplation, heart-conføling joys, : And harmless pleasures, in the throng'd abode Of multitudes unknown, hail rural life! Addrefs himself who will to the pursuit Of honors. or emolument, or fame, I fhall not add myself to fuch a chace, Thwart his attempts, or envy his fuccefs. Some must be great. Great offices will have Great talents. And God gives to ev'ry man The virtue, temper, understanding, tafte, That lifts him into life, and lets him fall, Juft in the niche he was ordain'd to fill. To the deliv'rer of an injur'd land, He gives a tongue t' enlarge upon, an heart To feel, and courage to redress her wrongs; To monarchs dignity, to judges sense, To artifts ingenuity and skill;
To me an unambitious mind, content In the low vale of life, that early felt, A wish for eafe and leisure, and ere long, Found here, that leifure, and that cafe I wish'd...
ARGUMENT OF THE FIFTH BOOK.
Afrofly morning.-The foddering of cattle.-The woodman and his dog.-The poultry.-Whimsical effects of froft at a waterfall.-The Empress of Ruffia's palace of ice.-Amusements of monarchs.-War one of them.-Wars, whence.-And whence monarchy. -The evils of it.-English and French loyalty contrafted.---The Baftile, and a prifoner there.---Liberty the chief recommendation of this country.--- Modern patriotifm questionable, and why.---The perishable nature of the best human inftitutions.---Spiritual liberty not perishable.---The flavish fate of man by nature.---Deliver him Deift, if you can.---Grace muft do it.---The refpective merits of patriots and martyrs ftated. Their different treatment. Happy freedom of the man whom grace makes free.---His relifh of the works of God.---Address to the Cre
IS morning; and the fun, with ruddy orb Afcending, fires the horizon. While the clouds, That crowd away before the driving wind, More ardent, as the disk emerges more, Refemble moft some city in a blaze,
Seen through the leaflefs wood. His flanting ray Slides ineffectual down the fnowy vale, And tinging all with his own rofy hue, From ev'ry herb, and ev'ry spiry blade, Stretches a length of fhadow o'er the field. Mine, fpindling into longitude immense, In spite of gravity, and fage remark, That I myself am but a fleeting fhade,
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