Imatges de pÓgina


The hawthorn buth, with scats beneath the shade, Sweet Auburn ! parent of the blissful hour, For talking age and whisp’ring lovers made ! Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's pow's. How often

have I bless’d the coming day, Here, as I take my folitary rounds, When toil remitting lent its turn to play ; Amidst thy tangling walks, and ruin'd grounds; And all the village train, from labour free, And, many a year elapsid, return to view Led up their sports bencath the fprcading tree; Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew; While many a pastime circled in the shade, Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, The young contending as the old survey'd ; Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. And many a gainbol frolick'd o'er the ground, In all my wand'rings round this world of care, And Neits of art and feats of strength went round. In all my griefs—and God has given my thare And still, as cach repeated plealuse tir’d, I ftill had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Succeeding poits the mirthful band inspir'd; Amid thcfe humble bow'rs to lay me down ; The dancing pair that simply fought renown,

To husband out life's taper at the close, By holding out to tire each other down; And keep the flame from wasting by repose : The swain, mistruftless of his linutted face, I still had hopes, for pride attends us ftill, While secret laughter titter'd round the place ; Amidst the fwains to Thew my book-learn'd skill, The bashful virgin's fide-long looks of love, Around my fire an evening group to draw, The matron's glance that would those looks re- And tell of all I felt, and all I law; prore

[these, And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, These were thy charms, sweet village ! sports like Pants to the place from whence at first hc Aew, With sweet fuccellion, taught e'en toil to please ; I still had hopes, my long vexations past, These round thy bow’rs thcir cheerful infuence Here to return--and die at home at last. shed,

[are Aed.

O blest retirement, friend to life's decline, These were thy charms,—but all these charms Retreat from care, that never inult be mine!

Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, How blest is he, who crowns, in shades like these,
Thy sports are ned, and allthy charms withdrawn; A youth of labour with an age of cafe ;
Amidit thy bow'rs the tyrant's hand is seen, Who quits a world where strong temptations try,
And defolation faddens all thy green:

And, fince 'tis hard to combat, Icarns to fly!
One only onafter grasps the whole domain, For him no wretches, born to work and weep,
And half a tillage stines thy smiling plain ; Explore the mine, or tempt the dang’rous deep;
No more e hy glasly brook reflects the day, No Turly porter ftands in guilty state,
But, chok ’d with ledges, works its weedy way; To ipurn imploring famine froin the gate ;
Along thy glades, a folitary guest,

But on he moves to meet his latter end, The hollow-founding bittern guards its nest; Angels around befriending virtue's friend; Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing Aies, Sinks to the grave with unperceiv'd decay, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries. While resignation gently Nopes the way; Sunk are thy bow'rs in shapeless ruin all, And, all his prospects bright’ning to the last, And the long grass o'ertops the mould'ring wall; His heaven commences cre the world be past ! And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Sweet was the found, when oft, at evening's Far, far away thy children leave the land.

clore, Ill fares the land, to haft'ning ills a prey, Up yonder hill the village murmur rofe ; Where wealth accumulates, and men decay: There as I pats’d, with careless tteps and flow, Princes and Lords may Rourish, or may fade ; The iningling notes came foften'd from below; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : The fwain, responsive as the milk-maid sung, But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,

The fober herd that low'd to meet their young, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied. The nuity gecfe that gabbied o'er the pool,

A time there was, ere England's griefs began. The playful children just let loose from school,
When every rood of ground maintain'd its man; The waichi-dog's voice that bay'd the whisp'ring
For him light labour spread her wholesome store; wind,
Just gave what life requir'd, but gave no more : And the loud laugh, that looke the vacant mind;
His best companions, innocence and health; Thele all in (weet confusion lought the fhade,
And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. And olid each paule the nightingale had made.

But times are alter'd : trade's unfecling train Bue now the founds of population fail,
Ufurp the land, and dispoilefs the livain ; Su cheerfui murinurz fuciuate in the gale,
Along the lawn, where Icatter'd hamlets rose, No buly Ateps the grass-grown footway tread,
Unwieldy wealth and cumb'rous pomp repose ; Psic all the bloomy Auth of lite is filed :
And ev'ry want to luxury allied,

All but yon widow'd, tolitary thing, And ev'ry pang that follý pays to pride. That feebly bends belide the plathy (pring; Those gentle hours that pleniy bade to bloom, She, wretched matron! forc'd in age, for bread, Those calm defires that alk'd but little rovin, To trip the brook with mantling creffes spread, Those healthful sports that grac'dthe pracefuiscene, to pick her wint’ry faggor from the thorn, Liv'd in each look, and brighten d all the green- To leek her nightly shed, and weep till morn ; Thefe, far departing, seek a kinder thore, She only left, of all the harmless train, And rural mirch and manners are no more. The iad historian of the pensive plain.



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Near yondercopse,where once the garden smil'd, A man severe he was, and stern to view;
And ftill where many a garden flow'r grows wild, I knew him well, and every truant knew.

There, where a few'toin thrubs the place disclose, Well had the boding tremblers learn’d to trace
The village preacher's modeft mantion rofe. The day's difatters in his morning face;
A man he was to all the country dear,

Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee
And passing rich with forty pounds a year; At all his jokes, for many a joke hau he ;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Full well the busy whilper circling round
Nor e'er had chang'd, nor with d to cha::re, hi Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd:
Unskilful he to fawn, or feek for pow'r, (place; Yet he was kird; or, it levere in aught,
By doctrines fafhion's to the varying hour; The love he bore to learning was in fault;
Far other aims his hcart had learn'd to prize, The villa vc ali declar'd how much he know;
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. 'Twas certain he could write and cypher too;
His house was known to all the vagrant train ; Lands he could meature, terms and tides prelage,
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain. And ev’n the story ran that he could gauge;
The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, In arguing too the parlon own d his fkill,
Whole beard descending Twept his aged breast; For, ev'n though vanquish'd, he could argue ftill;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud, While words of learned iength, and thund'ring
Claim'd kindred there, and had his clains allow'd, found,
The broken foldier, kindly bade to stay, Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around;
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;

And fill they gaz'd, and itill the wonder grow, Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, ! That one small head could carry all he knew. Shoulder'd his crutch, and thew'd how fields were, But patt is all his fame : the very spot

(glow, Where many a time he triumph'd is forgot. Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd tu Near yonder thorn that lifts its head on high, And quite forget their vices in their woe; Where once the lign-post caught the paffing eye, Careless their merits or their faults to Ican, Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil resir'd, And ev'n bis failings lean'd to Virtue's lide; Whicre village statetimen talk'd with looks proBut, in his duty prompt at ev'ry call,

found, He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all. And news much older than their ale went round. And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, hagination fondly stoops to trace To tempt her new-Hedg'd offspring to the skies; The parlour fplendours of that festive place ; He tried each art, réprov'd each dult delay, The white-wash'd wall, the nicely fanded floni, Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the

way. The.varnith'd clock that click'd behind the Beside the bed, where parting life was laid, And-forrow, guilt, and pain by turns disinay'd, The chest contrịv'd a double debt to pay, The rev'rend champion ftood. At his controul A bed by night, a chest of draw'rs by day; Despair and anguith fled the struggling soul; The pictures plac'd for ornament and uić, Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, The twelve good rules, the royal game of gonse ; And his last falt'ring accents whisper'd praise. The hearth, except wien winter chill'd the day,

At church, with meck and unaffected grace, With aspen boughs, and flow'rs, and fennel gay His looks adorn'd the venerable place; While broken tca-cups, wisely kept for show, Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway ; Rang'd o'er the chimney, glitten'd in a row. And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray. Vain transitory {plendour! could not all The service past, around the pious man, Repricve the tott'ring manfion from its fall ? With ready zcal, cach honeft rustic ran; Obicure it links, nor thall it more impart 'Ev'n children follow'd with endearing wile, An hour's importance to the poor man's heart; And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's Thither no more the peasant shall repair frile.

To sweet oblivion of his caily care ; His ready smile a parent's warmth express’d, No more the fariner's nens, che barber's tale, Their welfare, pleas'd him, and their carcs No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail; diftrefs'd;

No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, Relax his pond'rous strength, and lean to hear; But all his serious thoughts had reft in heaven. she host himself no longer shall le found As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Careful to see the mantling bliss go round; Swells from the vale, and midway Icaves the Nor the coy maid, balf willing to be presi, storm,

Shall kits thc cup to pass it to the rest. Thoʻround its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain, Eternal funfhine feteles on its head.

Thesc simple blessings of the lowly train : Beside yon Araggling fence that skirts the way, To me more dear, congenial to my heart, With bloitoin furze unprofitably gay,

One native charm, than all the gloss of art : There, in his noisy mantion skill'd to ruler Spontancous joys, where nature has its play, The village mafter taught his little Ichool; The loul adopts, and owns their first-born livay;





Lightly they frolic o'cr the vacant mind, The dome where pleasure holds her midnight. Unenvied, unmolested, unconfind:

reign, But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, Here, richly deck’d, admits the gorgeous train ; With all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd, Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square, In these, ere triflers half their will obtain, The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. The toiling plealure fickens into pain ;

Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy! And, ev'n whilc fashion's brightest arts decoy, Sure thele denote one universal joy! [eyes The heart distrusting alks, if this be joy? dre these thy serious thoughts? Ah, turn thine

Ye friends to truth, ye itarolien who survey Where the poor houlelels ihiv'ring female lies.
The rich inan's joys incrcali, the poor's decay, She, once, perhaps, in village plenty bleit,
'Tis yours to judge how wide the limies stand Has wept at tales of innocence diftreft;
Between a splendid and a happy land.

Her medelt looks the cottage might adorn,
Proud swells the ride with loads of freighted ore, Sweet as the primrofe peeps beneath the thorn :
And shouting folly hails them from her shore; Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled,
Hoards, ev'n beyond the mifer's wish, abound, Near her betrayet's door she lays her head ;
And rich men flock from all the world around; And pinch'd with cold, and thrinking from the
Yet count our gains : this wealth is but a namc Thow'r,
That leaves our utiful product still the same. With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour,
Not so the lofs : the man of wealth and pride When idly' first, ambitious of the town,
Takes up a space that many poor supplied; She left her wheel, and robes of country brown.
Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Dothine, fiveet Auburn,thine, the loveliest train,
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds; Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ?
The robe that wraps his limbs in filken Noth Ev'n now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led,
Has robb’d the neighb'ring fields of half their At proud men's doors they ask a little bread!

Ah, no! to distant climes, a dreary scene, His feat, where folitary sports are seen,

Where half the convex world intrudes between, Indignant spurns the cottage from the green; Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, Around the world cach needful product flies,

Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. For all the luxuries the world supplies.

Far diff'rent there from all that charm'd before, While thus the land adorn'd for pleature all, The various terrors of that horrid Norc; In barren tplendour feebly waits the fall. 1 hofe blazing funs that dart a downward ray,

As fomc fair female, unadorn'd and plain, And ficrcely thed intolerable day; Secure to please while youth confirms her reign, Those matted woods where birds forget to Gng, Slights ev'ry borrow'd charm that drcs supplies: But filent bats in drowsy clusters cling: Nor thares with art the triumph of her cyes; Those pois'nous fields with rank luxuriance But when those charins are paíllorcharms are frail), crown'd, When time advances, and when lovers fail, Where the dark scorpion gathers death around; She then shines forth, folicitous to bloss, Where at cach step the Aranger fears to wake In all the glaring impotence of dress.

The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake; Thus fares the land, by luxury betray'd, Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey ; In nature's simplest charms at first array'd ; And savage men, more murd'rous still

than they : But, verging to decline, its splendours rife, While oft in whirls the mad tornado Alies, Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise.

Mingling the ravag'd landscape with the skies. While, scourg'd by famine from the smiling land, Far diff'rent these from ev'ry former scene, The mournful peasant leads his huinble band ; The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green, And while he finks, without one arm to save, The breezy covert of the warbling glove, The country blooms-a garden and a grave! That only shelter'd thefts of harmless love.

Where then, ah where, shall poverty reside, Good Heaven! what forrows gloom'd that partTo 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride ?

ing day, If, to some common's fenceless limits stray'd, That call'd them from their native walks away ; He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade, When the poor exiles, ev'ry pleafure past, [last, Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide, Hung round the bow'rs, and fondly look”d their And ev'n the bare-worn common is denied. And took a long farewel, and with'd in vain

If to the city sped-what waits him there? For seats like these beyond the western main ; To see profusion that he must not share ; And shudd'ring Itill to face the distant deep, To fee ten thousand bancful arts combin'd Return’d and wept, and fill return'd to weep!. To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; The good old fire the first prepar'd to go To lee cach joy the sons of pleasure know To ncw-found worlds, and wept for others' woe; Extorted from his fellow-crcature's woe. But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade, He only with’d for worlds beyond the grave. There the pale artist plies the fickly trade; His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps The fond companion of his hapless years, display,

Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
There the black gibbet glcoms beside the ,

e way,
And left a lover's for her father's arms. .


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With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes, \" Forbear, my son,' the Hermit cries,
And bless’d the cot where every plcasure rose; To tempt the dang'rous gloon ;
And kiss’d her thoughtless babes with many a tear, For yonder phantom only flies
And clasp'd them close, in forrow doubly dear; • To lure thce to thy doom.
Whilft her fond husband Itrove to lend relicf

• Here to the houseless child of want In all the filent manliness of grief.

My door is open still; O, luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree,

· And, tho' my portion is but fcant, How ill exchang'd are things like these for thee !

"I give it with good-will. How do thy poțions, with insidious joy, Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!

Then turn to-night, and freely share Kingdoms, by thee to sickly greatness grown,

• Whate'er my cell bestows; Boait of a florid vigour not their own.

• My rushy couch and frugal fare, At ev'ry draught more large and large they grow,

• My blcfling and repofc.
A bloated mals of rank unwieldy woe ; • No flocks that range the valley free
Till sapp'd their strength, and ev'ry part unfound, * To laughter I condemn;
Down, down they link, and spread a ruin round.' Taught by that Pow'r that pities me,
Even now the devastation is begun,

• I learn to piry them : And half che bus'ness of destruction donc;

• But from the mountain's grassy side Ev'n now, methinks, as pond'ring here I stand,

A guiltless feast I bring ; I see the rural virtues leave the land.

· A scrip with herbs and fruit supplied, Down where yon anch'ring vessel spreads the fail,

• And water from the fpring. That idly waiting Aaps with every gale, Downward they move, a inelancholy band,

Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand.

• All carth-born cares are wrong: Contented toil, and hospitaisle care,

Man wants but little here below, And kind connubial tenderness, are there;

• Nor wants that litele long.' And piety with withes plac'd above,

Soft as the dew from heaven descends,
And steady loyalty, and faithfui lore.

His gentle accents fell:
And thou, sweet poetry, thou lovelieft maid, The modeft stranger lowly bends,
Still first to fly where fensual joys invade ;

And follows to the cell.
Unfit in these degen'rate times of thamc

Far in a wilderness obscure To catch the heart, or strike for honeft fame;

The lonely mansion lay ; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried,

A refuge to the neighb'ring poor,
My name in crowds, my solitary pride!

And strangers led astray.
Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe,
That found's me poor at first, and keep't me fo; No stores beneath its humble thatch
Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel,

Requir'd a mafter's care;
Thou source of ev'ry virtue, fare thee well!

The wicket, op'ning with a latch,
Farewel! and, oh! where'er thy voice be tried,

Receiv'd the harınless pair.
On Totrio's clitls, or Pambamarca's fide, And now, when busy crowds retire
Whether where equinoctial fervours glow, To take their ey'ning rift,
Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, The Hermit trimm'd his little fire,
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,

And cheer'd his pensive guest';
Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime ; And sprcad his vegetable store,
Aid fighted truth with thy perfuafive train, And gaily press'd and finilld;
Tcach erring man to spurn the rage of gain; And, ikill'd in legendary lore,
Teach him that states, of native strength polleft, The ling'ring hours beguild.
Though very poor, may still be very bleft;

Around in sympathetic mirth That irade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,

Its tricks the kitten gries, As occan sweeps the labour'd mole away ;

The cricket chirrups in the hearth, While felf-dependent pow'r can time defy,

The crackling faggot fiés. As rocks relift the billows and the sky.

But nothing could a charm impart

To footh the stranger's woe;
$ 3. Edwin and Angelina. A Ballan, For grief was heavy at his heart,

OLDSMITH. And tears began to flow,
'TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, His rising cares the Hermit spied,
•'And guide my lonely way

With answ'ring care oppreft : • To where yon taper cheers the vale

And whence, unhappy youth,' he cricd, • With hofpitable ray:

The sorrows of thy brcalt? • For here forlorn and loft I tread,

• From better habitations spurn'd, • With fainting fteps and flow;

• Reluctant dost thou rove? • Where wilds, immeasurably spread,

• Or grieve for friendship unretạrn'd, • Secm length’ning as I go.'

• Os unregarded love?

· Alas!


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• Alas! the joys that fortune brings

Till, quite dejected with my scorn, • Are trifling, and decay;

• He left me to my pride ; • And those who prize the paltry things • And fought a folitude forlorn • More triling ftill than chey.

• In secret, where he dicd. · And what is Friendthip but a name,

But mine the forrow, mine the fault! "A charn that lails to sleep;

And well my life shall pay; Alhade that follows wealth or fame,

I'll seek the folitude he fought, • And leaves the wretch to weep:

• And itretch me where he lay! "And love is still an emptier found,

* And there forlorn, despairing, hid, • The nodern fair-one's jeft;

• ['ll lay me down and die; "On earth unseen, or only found

'Twas so for me that Edwin did, • To warm the turtle's nett.

• And so for him will 1! For shame! fond youth, thy sorrows hulli, • Forbid it, Heaven !' the Hermit cried, * And purn the sex!' he said :

And clasp'd her to his breast : But, while he spoke, a rising bluth

The wond'ring fair-one turn'd to chideHis love-lorn guest betray'd.

'Twas Edwin's self that press'd. Surpris'd he sces new beauties rise,

Turn, Angelina, ever dear, Swift mantling to the siew,

My charmer, turn to fee Like colours o'er the morning skies,

Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here, As bright, as tranfient too.

• Restor'd to love and thaec ! The bashful look, the rising breast,

• Thus let me hold thee to my heart, Alternate spread alarms;

• And ev'ry care resign: The lovely stranger Itands confest

"And Thall we never, never part, A maid in all her charms.

My life-my all that 's minc? And, ah! forgive a stranger rude,

• No, never from this hour to part; "A wretch forlorn,' she cried,

• We 'll live and love fo true, ! Whofe fect unhallow'd thus intrude

• The figh that rends thy constant heart • Where Heaven and you rehide!

• Shall break thy Edwin's too!' But lct a maid thy pity thare, · Whoin love has taught to itray; "Who fecks for rest, but tinds despair

4. A Pastoral. In Four Parts, Pope. • Companion of her way.

To Sir Williain Trumbal. • My father liv'd beside the Tyne,

PASTORAL I. SPRING. A weal: hy lord was he ; * And all his wealth was mark'd as mine,

FİRST in these fields Lery the fylvan strains,

Nor blush to sport on Windfor’s blissful plains, • He had but only me.

Fair Thames, now gently from thy sacred spring, To win me from his tonder arms

While on thy banks Sicilian Mufes ling; • Unnumber'd fuitors came;

Let vernal airs through trembling ofiers play, • Who prais'd me for imputed charms,

And Albion's cliffs refound the rural lay. • And felt, or fuign'd, a flame.

You that, too wise for pride, too good for pow'r, • Each hour a mercenary crowd

Enjoy the glory to be great no more, • With richest profers ftrove;

And, carrying with you all the world can boast,

To all the world illustriously arc loft ! "Among the rest young Edwin bow'd, • But never talk'd of love.

O let my Mufe her sender reed inspire,

Till in your native thades you tune the lyre : • In humble, simplest habit clad,

So when the nightingale to rest removes, • No wealth or pow'r had he;

The thrush may chant to the forsaken groves i Wisdom and worth were all he had,

But, charm’d to filence, listens while the fings, • But these were all to me.

And all th'aerial audience clap their wings. • The blossom op'ning to ile day,

Soun as the focks shook off the nightly dews, · The dews of heaven retin'!,

Tuo Sis ains, whom love kept wakeful, and the Could nought of purity display

Mufe, • To emulate his mind.

Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fieccy care, "The dew, the blossoms of the tree,

Freth as the morn, and as the season fair : • With charms inconstant thine :

The dawn now blushing on the mountain's fide, • Their charms were his; but, woc to mc ! Thus Daptenis fpoke, and Strephon thus replicd: • Their confiancy was mine.

DAPHNIS. • For Rill I tried each fickle art,

Hcar how the birds, on every bloomy spray, • Importunate and vain ;

With joyous music wake the dawning day! "And while his paffion tonch'd my heart, Why fit we mute when early linnets sing, • I triumph d in his pain :

When warbling Philomel falutes the fpring?


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