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 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH.
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH, 
 
 A 
 
 POEM, 
 
 IN FOUR BOOKS; 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 BY WILLIAM COCKIN. 
 
 Wherefore the Lord blessed the Seventh day and 
 hallowed it. Exodus. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY W\ BULMER AND CO. 
 
 CLEVELAND-ROW, ST. JAMES'S; 
 
 FOR G. AND W. NICOL, BOOKSELLERS TO HIS 
 
 MAJESTY, PALL-MALL; 
 
 AND J. ASPERNE, CORNHILL. 
 
 1805.
 
 The first creature of God (in the works of the days) was 
 light of the Sense; the last was the light of Reason; and 
 his Sabbath-work ever since is the illumination of his 
 Spirit. Bacon's Essays. 
 
 Me, poetry (or rather note that aim 
 Feebly and vainly at poetic fame) 
 Employs, shut out from more important views, 
 Where northern vales their lonely streams diffuse. 
 Content if thus sequester'd I may raise 
 A monitor's, though not a poet's praise, 
 And while / touch on things too little known 
 To close life wisely, may not waste my own. 
 
 From Cowpf.r's Retirement.
 
 - PR 
 Cfe4fe>V 
 ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 W illiam Cockin, the unassuming and 
 truly estimable author of the Poems now 
 offered to the public, was born in Septem- 
 ber 1736, at Burton in Kendal, in the 
 county of Westmorland. His father, Mar- 
 maduke Cockin, was a teacher of writing 
 and accounts, and brought up his son to 
 the same employment. He died when his 
 son was of the age of eighteen years, and 
 left his family, a wife and three younger 
 children, in moderate if not distressed cir- 
 cumstances. To the care of our author 
 they were committed, and they experienced 
 from him an attention which may be truly 
 styled paternal. 
 
 85371.7
 
 VI ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 The education of Mr. Cockin was but 
 slender, as he at an early age assisted his 
 father in his profession. His first attempts 
 towards a permanent settlement, were at 
 two boarding-schools near London, which 
 he quitted with disgust, and never recalled 
 to his memory without expressions of aver- 
 sion and contempt. In 1764 he was elected 
 writing-master and accountant to the free- 
 school at Lancaster, a situation he held 
 for twenty years, at the end of which 
 term he removed to Nottingham, to assist 
 Mr. Blanchard in establishing his Academy 
 there. At that place he continued eight 
 years, and then retired to his native town, 
 where he employed himself chiefly in lite- 
 rary pursuits, and domestic occupations and 
 amusements ; sometimes visiting London, 
 where he resided with his friend Romney, 
 the celebrated painter, at whose house at 
 Kendal he expired, after a tedious illness,
 
 ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. Vll 
 
 to the great regret of his friends, by whom 
 he was much beloved, as well as the poor, 
 to whom, as far as his means extended, he 
 was a kind benefactor. 
 
 His remains were removed to Burton for 
 interment in the churchyard there, and on 
 a plain neat stone the following Epitaph is 
 inscribed : 
 
 D. o. M. 
 
 Near this stone lies the body of 
 
 WILLIAM COCKIN, 
 
 Late of Burton in Kendal, 
 
 Who died May 30th, 1801, aged 65. 
 
 He was a Man of strong Powers of Mind, 
 
 of singular Modesty, and general benevolence of Heart ; 
 
 A dutiful Son, a kind Brother, and a sincere Friend. 
 
 A self-taught Philosopher, and a Christian from 
 
 Conviction, 
 
 he derived his Faith from the Holy Scriptures ; 
 
 and to his Faith he added Obedience and Repentance. 
 
 On this threefold Basis 
 
 he built his Hopes of final and effectual Justification, 
 
 through the meritorious sufferings of 
 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Go, Reader, 
 
 and do thou likewise !
 
 Vlll ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Mr. Cochin's Publications were 
 
 1. Rational and Practical Arithmetic, 8vo. 
 
 2. The Art of delivering written Language, 
 8vo. 1775. 
 
 3. Occasional Attempts in Verse, 8vo. printed 
 at Kendal, 1776, not sold. 
 
 4. Ode to the Genius of the Lakes, 4to. 1780. 
 Reprinted in the present volume, with improve- 
 ments. 
 
 5. The Theory of the Syphon, 1781. 
 
 6. The Fall of Scepticism and Infidelity pre- 
 dicted; an Epistle to Dr. Beattie, 8vo. 1788. 
 
 7. The Freedom of Human Action explained, 
 8vo. 1791- 
 
 8. A Paper in the Philosophical Transactions, 
 read before the Royal Society. 
 
 He also assisted in the compilation of The 
 Guide to the Lakes, which has passed 
 through several editions.
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 BOOK I.
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 .No, listless Powers! alluring as you are, 
 Your Syren blandishments in vain would check 
 My fond emprise. Smiles practised to betray, 
 Though soft as Hebe's, shall not now defeat 
 Rekindled hope, and heedlessly consign 
 The soothing visions of an inborn Muse, 
 Faithful and free, to hourly disregard, 
 And shades oblivious as the paths I tread. 
 I own th' inspiring warmth which Fancy oft 
 (So Nature fondly wills) catches from forms 
 Which she herself creates, and longs to trace
 
 4 tHE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 On lasting tablets ; frequent to detain 
 The eye of kindred feeling; that pure warmth 
 Which thickest clouds of dark o'erhanging care 
 Oft smother'd in full glow, till passing years 
 Have given supineness, habit ; but which now, 
 (When Leisure, if no other patron, smiles,) 
 Shall rise uncheck'd; shall prompt the willing Muse 
 Once more to spread her wing, and soaring pour 
 Her graphic harmonies on Virtue's ear : 
 No foe to praise, but reckless of its voice 
 Beyond the portion which of right belongs 
 To well-meant aims, not unsuccessful deem'd. 
 
 The hallow'd day, ordain'd by Heaven of old 
 The rest of wearied Nature; when, alike, 
 Man, and the labouring ox, remit their toil, 
 And taste the sweets of salutary ease: 
 But more r when man, to nobler calls awake, 
 And urged by higher hopes, and better views, 
 Foregoes his worldly cares, to meditate 
 The Author of his being; hymn his praise,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 5 
 
 And fervent ask, with meek becoming strains, 
 The blessings needful for this frail abode. 
 That day, the Sabbath of the earth, as seen 
 Its joys bequeathing to the rural vale, 
 Be now my theme; where, if no impulse vain 
 The cautious Muse betray, the pigus breast 
 S.hall not condemn her purpose ; Fancy's eye 
 Not coldly view her tracks of devious line, 
 Nor the well-judging ear disown her strains. 
 For, what the Muse of Aganippe's fount 
 Has drank inspiring, that would lead too far 
 In bootless fable ; what of Nature warms 
 With wilder fires, and prompts with giddy aim 
 Beyond cool Reason's pathway, she presumes, 
 Have been subdued with thoughts of purer mould, 
 Caught from the treasures of the Prophet's page, 
 And ampler draughts of Salem's sacred streams. 
 Then, haply, some of those high-raptured tones 
 Which shook Moriah's Mount, when it received, 
 From Sion's hallow'd seats, the sacred ark 
 Beneath cherubic wings, (immersed in beams
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Of bright approving glory,) and the sons 
 
 Of Aaron, leading the innumerous choir, 
 
 Shouted for joy, and shouting rear'd aloft 
 
 Their silver trumps, that, thrilling through the tribes 
 
 Of gather'd Tsrael, bow'd, as bow'd their heads, 
 
 Their suppliant hearts, and taught them to adore, 
 
 With transport due, Jehovah's sacred Name:* 
 
 Haply, at times, some wand'ring notes like these, 
 
 As faintly echoing down the vale of years, 
 
 May lend their'tuneful aid, and gently throw 
 
 A soften'd cadence on the Dorian lay, 
 
 And give it power to sooth, to cheer, to warm 
 
 The feeling mind, to virtuous musings prone. 
 
 See, then, commence the Summer-day, which here 
 Fancy prepares the ground-work of her tints, 
 And pictured shapes. See, round the eye of morn, 
 The golden radiance of Aurora mounts 
 Above the hills, and, bright'ning at her flame, 
 The dewy landscape, and the fleecy clouds, 
 * 2 Chron. chap. v.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 7 
 
 Gradual regain their hues : and now the sun, 
 With fiery orb uprear'd, at once, darts round 
 A flood of orient glory ; and, once more, 
 Creation blooms in cheering light display'd. 
 The flocks and herds troop gladsome o'er the lawns ; 
 The warblers of the spray their notes resume ; 
 And, raised on high (as if to cheer her song 
 With better proof how beauteous looks the turf, 
 Still own'd her fondest home,) the jocund lark 
 Pours out her pealing matins, as she fans 
 Her steady wings amid the blaze of day. 
 But, save these sounds of gratulation, save 
 That daring trade (how ill the union suits!) 
 Too prosperous to be wise, has warp'd the mind 
 No little from decorum, and full oft 
 Permits its grinding wheels and rattling cars 
 To discompose the scene, a stillness reigns 
 Of solemn form, far o'er the lengthen'd vale. 
 For now, attentive to the sacied call 
 Which sanctifies the wonted day of rest, 
 Stay'd is the hand of toil and busy care;
 
 S THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 The team, the scythe, the loom, the anvil's beat, 
 And all is seemly silence and repose. 
 
 O! fair Humanity ! whether from Nature drawn, 
 Or offspring of obedience to the will 
 Of Him, who in his mercy gave whate'er 
 Of good we now enjoy, or ever hope, 
 How lovely ! how benign thy smiles are seen 
 In this deranged abode ! where sordid views 
 And hard unfeeling bosoms frequent thwart 
 Thy mild suggestions ; and in Nature's spite, 
 In spite of precept and example, still 
 Practise their dissonant inhuman deeds 
 Where scarce appears temptation ! For one proof, 
 See the ingenious, deep, inventive lore 
 Which found, what full four thousand searching 
 
 years 
 Had miss'd achieving ; never dreamt perhaps ; 
 That spur and whip, well form'd, with dram-like food 
 Plied freely to arouse proportion due 
 Of vital strength, will urge the generous steed
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. < 
 
 O'er twice the space our dull inactive sires 
 
 Fancied enough to traverse in the time 
 
 Which ask'd its service. But, behold, still more, 
 
 (And more to testify how slightly some 
 
 Of better hopes can treat their Maker's laws,) 
 
 These harsh exertions equally enforced 
 
 On God's appointed Sabbath, long assign'd 
 
 As fit return of needful, soothing rest 
 
 For whate'er labours in this world of woe. 
 
 O Piety! the noblest, dearest gift, 
 That can adorn the ever-anxious mind ; 
 That draw'st from all possessions we may boast 
 The fullest draughts of true and heart-felt joy, 
 How little does thy warmth, in these vain times, 
 Inspire and meliorate the bustling world ! 
 How little touch the breast that reaps so oft 
 Some dubious good, that on the balance long 
 Hung trembling, and perhaps far more deserved 
 By numbers sunk beneath misfortune's frown !
 
 10 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Thus doubly suffers the poor patient beast 
 Which shuns no toil, nor danger, that may please 
 His thankless keeper ; proud, tyrannic Man. 
 But, counting all this cruel strife, this din 
 Of posting Sunday chariots, what the gain? 
 We cannot yet with volant speed approach 
 Commercial avarice ; nor the Lover's hope ; 
 Nor mad Intoxication's wish'd career. 
 Hence, the device but proves to sober thought 
 One folly more of numbers we display ; 
 " A sacrilegious and inhuman wrong 
 Enforced to sooth the vanity of Trade." 
 Then, if Religion's voice but faintly touch, 
 For sake of Decency forego, with speed, 
 These restless, ill-judged aims. Let soothing peace, 
 And welcome leisure, a"s was wont of old, 
 Wait on the holy Sabbath ; and, the while, 
 Let fair Humanity extend her aid 
 To all that lives, and feels, nor offers harm ; 
 From Afric's sons, to the frail insect tribes 
 That shun our steps, or fearless round them sport.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 11 
 
 Yet it is morn ; nor far above the hills 
 Rolls the bright orb of day ; nor gone are all 
 The glist'ring dew drops, nor the misty clouds 
 That ling'ring leave their summits. Yet the air 
 Has grateful freshness, and the rambling swain, 
 (Far oft he'll ramble now as Fancy leads) 
 Breathing its vital spirit, as the breeze 
 Softly assuasive, fans his glowing cheek, 
 Feels all the sentient happiness which nerves 
 Firmly attuned, and high redundant health 
 Can minister ; light steps ; a dancing heart 
 Upborn he knows not how ; gay dreams of hope 
 Infused by like enchantment, and an eye 
 Wandering all life o'er Nature's boundless charms : 
 Gifts, which should he, unconscious of their worth, 
 Not duly value, the indulgent great 
 And opulent, alas ! (though envy oft 
 Erroneously surveys them,) sadly know, 
 And feelingly lament ; kingdoms themselves, 
 With all their pomp and wealth were barter'd well 
 Could they such blessings buy. But the exchange
 
 12 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Nature allows not. She, attentive still 
 
 To all her sons, nearly to each assigns 
 
 Regards due balanced ; and where Fortune drops 
 
 Her golden treasures ; where Ambition gains 
 
 Ilc-r highest honours, frequent we may see 
 
 The dreary couch appended to the prize ; 
 
 A frame of sad infirmity ; a mind 
 
 Crush'd with despondence which no charm can move. 
 
 What then are sylvan toils, and humble sheds, 
 Paths circumscribed, and opulence shut out, 
 With gifts annex'd so enviably fair ? 
 
 Thus life in all its variegated scenes 
 Both good and ill participates. And since 
 Some natal, or. a still more dubious cause, 
 May fix our active province ; surely he, 
 He is the happy man who finds his lot 
 Crown'd with life's temperate blessings ; an abode 
 Truly primeval, peaceful, and serene, 
 Which wisdom long has known to yield at large
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 13 
 
 Each rational delight, ordain'd to sooth 
 
 Our checquer'd warfare ; where (exempt from cares 
 
 Of torturing form, and those extremes which bring 
 
 Long morbid penalties,) health most abounds ; 
 
 Content shines brightest; Virtue best supports 
 
 Her sacred influence, and all their smiles 
 
 Are cherish'd and endear'd by the fair aids 
 
 Of needful exercise amid the pure 
 
 Untainted gale; relieved, at seasons meet, 
 
 With harmless recreation, and the loved, 
 
 And still-inspiring, still- returning joys 
 
 Of social amities and soft repose. 
 
 The morning's meal dispatch'd of frugal cheer, 
 And in their neatest garb of homely guise 
 Apparell'd for the day, forth step with pace 
 Sober and slow (duly accordant deem'd 
 To thoughts of pious reverence) the pair 
 That rule some village farm. He, with sharp knife 
 To carve from out the dry well-salted joint, 
 That decks the chimney's side, a portion meet
 
 14 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 By culinary skill to yield ere long 
 
 Choice nutriment, and crown the Sunday board : 
 
 She, in the garden, with nice care and art 
 
 To cull fresh savoury herbs ; thyme, and the 
 
 stems 
 Of parsley ; onion neat to shred, and leaves 
 Of marjoram and mary-gold, inmix'd 
 Still farther to improve the accustom'd meal, 
 And to the soup more grateful relish give. 
 
 Nor are forgot the nosegay's varied sweets, 
 Aptly combined from Flora's choicest store, 
 To grace the bosom, or the cornice deck 
 With fragrant beauty : beauty, which fond art 
 How vainly emulates ! yet which the hand 
 Of liberal Nature, at this season gay, 
 Scatters profuse e'en in the desart waste ; 
 Which from its forms superlatively neat, 
 Its silken texture, tints of brightest glow ; 
 The soothing calm its contemplation yields, 
 And the apt image its decay holds forth
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 15 
 
 Of youth and life's frail pleasures, still has been 
 Dear, as attractive, to the human eye. 
 
 But, hark the bell! which from the neighbouring 
 fane 
 Tolls gently to remind, if chance some need 
 To be reminded, of the sacred rites 
 The day demands. And now the matron hastes 
 To see her little progeny equipt, 
 In decent sort to mingle with the throng. 
 A mother, who, perchance, from better hopes, 
 Fell to the slender earnings of her hands, 
 And brought no other dowry to her mate 
 Than truth, religion, and a feeling heart. 
 Yet as the ribands, which in youth had graced 
 Her own fair form, she opens to their view ; 
 Hints at these times, adjusts a simple slip, 
 Or draws the comb of ivory, gently press'd, 
 Adown the ringlets of their shining hair, 
 And on a weeping cheek imprints a kiss, 
 She feels as high delight, as if their charms
 
 16 
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 (To her what charms ! who saw them bud and bloom) 
 Were deck'd in all the gay attire of wealth ; 
 For, are they not her own ? Does she not see 
 The mingled lineaments of him she loved, 
 And her own race, adorn each visage fair? 
 And, does not hope in future years pourtray, 
 These scanty garbs thrown by ? And when, at length, 
 Their budding beauties, blooming cheeks; their 
 
 limbs 
 Of graceful mould, and all their mental gifts 
 Are constellated in mature display; 
 Then, does not Hope behold them act their parts 
 On life's conspicuous stage with well-earn'd praise ; 
 Good without boasting; prosperous without pride ; 
 And greatly happy close the arduous scene, 
 Where all that's mortal finds its destined goal ? 
 And, can the parent ask for more than this 
 Whose coffers teem with unexhausted gold ? 
 How in this tempting varied scene of things 
 They may themselves acquit ; how well sustain 
 The conflict of the^issions leagued with vice ;
 
 TirE RURAL SABBATH. 17 
 
 How shun each snare seductive, fleeting time, 
 Big with the views of Providence, must shew. 
 But, trusting this to Heaven's all-righteous care, 
 Whate'er the event, her sedulous regards 
 Stand unimpeach'd; she has all perform'd 
 Her station, duty, and fond hopes require ; 
 And, if not here, in realms of higher form, 
 And brighter joys, will meet her sure reward. 
 
 If to some minds the tolling bell might bring 
 The day's solemnity, awhile forgot, 
 Two may be noted, from whose anxious thoughts 
 It never pass'd ; a plighted, happy pair, 
 Who now, amid their friends, in meet array, 
 Are on the wing, the restless wing of love, 
 To seal their vows at Wedlock's sacred shrine. 
 Mute and sedate they pass the crowd, whose eyes 
 Scan deep their ev'ry look ; nor spare the jest 
 Of sportive gaiety. For in their breasts 
 Tumultuous rolls the tide of gathering joy 
 Too big for utterance; fidelityTwarm- proof;
 
 18 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Connubial sweets; the bliss to have attain'd 
 The last dear object of their ardent care. 
 Let them proceed with feelings which awhile 
 Outrun the stream of nature, but which soon 
 Will ebb to more sedateness. Fond, and true, 
 And happy be their lot ! For they are young, 
 And innocent, we trust, as young ; and then, 
 Should life's unstable hands present her cup, 
 In future, oft imbitter'd or pertnrb'd, 
 In random sort; should time impair the charm 
 Which nature at these years, for purpose wise, 
 Suffers to cheat the fancy with fond dreams 
 Which nothing earthly ever can fulfil ; 
 Should care's perplexities, appall the mind ; 
 He, in a due civility decline; 
 She, through caprice, by fits deny her smiles ; 
 And friendship's gentler warmth succeed the flames 
 Of untired love ; all, all the destined sweets 
 That plighted hands may from each other hope 
 Have been their lot, and only memory now, 
 In their full pristine brilliancy and glow
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 19 
 
 Can bring back blessings which no stay can boast, 
 And which, like youth, too soon, alas! must fade. 
 
 So frail are mortal joys ! But closed, with hope, 
 Their casual beams to life's dim varying vale 
 Give true endearment ; and fond love must still 
 Stand high in power, and merit wisdom's praise. 
 Then go, ye blooming throng, in life's gay prime, 
 Whose lightsome spirits paint each future scene 
 In all that's blissful, and on whose smooth brows 
 Care has not yet one sadd'ning furrow form'd ; 
 Go; and, if due assent and hopes allow, 
 Indulge fond Nature's wish. As prompt your hearts, 
 Unite your hands. Essay this flattering world. 
 With active footsteps cheerily pursue 
 Its onward paths ; and, should they e'er deceive 
 With unexpected shadows, think 'tis not 
 The clouds of wedlock that have caused the gloom, 
 But the abrupt vicissitude of skies 
 Entail'd on man, and which, at times, will frown, 
 Howe'er through life he shape his cautious way.
 
 20 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Yet further heed the meditating Muse, 
 Not unexperienced, and the friend of all 
 Who wish th' endearing scenes of wedded love. 
 Were this terrene as perfect as 'tis fair ; 
 Were all mankind but truly what they seem ; 
 Did love to union only draw the hearts 
 Of form congenial : did no dark deceit ; 
 No sordid purpose ; no impure desire ; 
 No untold ill ; no habitude deep fix'd 
 In shameless vice ; nor temper that delights 
 In sheer perverseness, dwell in one or both 
 Whom nuptial bands unite, and actual deeds 
 Belied not fair appearance, then in youth 
 The fond alliance haply might take place 
 To best account. But, since these checks impend 
 Alike at ev'ry age, and numerous points, 
 Of dubious circumstance, should meet to found 
 Fit prospect of heart-cheering peace and joy ; 
 And since, nor Nature, nor command divine 
 Restrict the union to the vernal years, 
 In periods more mature it still may yield
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 21 
 
 Domestic comforts, quadrate with the chief, 
 
 That sooth life's voyage. Hence the flickering torch 
 
 Of Hymen, to emit bright steady rays 
 
 (Which all presume peculiarly their fate !) 
 
 Has still its chance, where chance so much abounds. 
 
 The ceremony o'er, in part to greet 
 The wedded pair, but more, the Muse would hope, 
 In honour of the day, a rising peal 
 Of light and well-toned bells awakes the mind 
 To thoughts far-sever'd from low, earth-born cares; 
 A prime intention; and for which these notes, 
 Harmonious, festal, and of lively cheer, 
 Are aptly fashion'd. Mixing with their chime 
 Of louder cadence, tunefully combined, 
 Far up the azure vault, solemn and slow 
 Swings th' etherial wave ; fill'd with the hum 
 Of air-form'd echoes, seeming, as they roll 
 Along th' apparent void, the distant strains, 
 By fits pour'd forth, of some angelic choir. 
 But more these pealings charm, when on the brink
 
 22 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Of yon clear pebbled stream, whose woody steeps 
 
 Verge far the flow'ry rnead, and haunts provide 
 
 For other echoes, with returning powers 
 
 More audible ; still attent to listen ; 
 
 Listen and mock, listen and mock again 
 
 The neighbouring voices. There the chasing sounds 
 
 Remotely heard, fall sighing on the ear 
 
 With gentlest lapse, varied in tone, or pause, 
 
 As rules the vagrant breeze, and, as around, 
 
 The vaulted air unites them with its own. 
 
 But highest proves their sway, when, with a spell 
 
 Beyond inherent potency, they bring 
 
 Associate thoughts of old endearing scenes 
 
 Back to the feeling breast. When the lorn youth 
 
 Hears in their accents sweet the sweeter notes 
 
 Of her he loves, and finds one happy hour 
 
 So softly form'd, he scarce the absence mourns 
 
 Which keeps him from her side. When bow'd with 
 
 years 
 And long oppressive toil, the hoary swain 
 Feels there- recall his vigorous prime, when, like
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. '23 
 
 The nimble roe, he flew across the hills 
 
 And braved the wintry storm, and heaves a sigh 
 
 To think, alas! that vigour is no more. 
 
 And. when the widow'd Matron, with her train 
 
 Of prattling innocents, in pensive mood 
 
 Revolves her lot, and catches from the tones, 
 
 By turns, the joy her bridal morn endear'd ; 
 
 The tears that wept her mate's untimely grave ; 
 
 Too deep the searching sympathy would pierce 
 
 Her soften'd bosom, did it not renew, 
 
 With prevalence more strong, the hope, the sure, 
 
 And Christian hope, that, pass a few short years, 
 
 And then, in better climes, beyond the reach 
 
 Of sorrow and of care, all shall be well ; 
 
 All suffering merit infinitely o'erpaid, 
 
 And virtuous minds, in happiest league, enjoy 
 
 Whate'er of bliss fond fancy may conceive. 
 
 Dropp'd are the bells, save one, to shew at hand 
 The stated worship of the Great Supreme. 
 And see around the reverend pile convened,
 
 ,24 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Gr, trooping down the paths that centre there, 
 The neat-clad villagers. Some with grave look 
 And placid mien pore on the letter'd tombs; 
 Some, with less decent purport, cling in groups, 
 Greedy to hear rehearsed the weekly news; 
 And some, of bent more curious, nicely scan 
 The venerable fane ; mark its tall spire 
 Point, like an index, to the towering sky, 
 (Man's destined wish'd-for home), or through the 
 
 aisles 
 Wander with pace sedate, admiring much 
 Their stately columns, richly fretted screens, 
 And more, perchance, at times, their wond'rous cost. 
 
 And why not cost ? Say, is it fit ourselves 
 To dwell in houses on whose chissel'd sides 
 And stucco'd roofs, we scarce enough can see 
 Of sumptuous decoration ? is it fit, 
 Whene'er we think on this, to view unmoved 
 The House of God in sordid meanness fall 
 E'en lower than our stables ; poorly form'd,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 25 
 
 Nor kept with better care ? And at a time 
 
 When Providence, beyond example kind, 
 
 Has bless'd our various toils, and fill'd our streets 
 
 With wealth, with arts, with freedom, and with peace ? 
 
 No; shame to us, this foul ungrateful blot 
 
 Is overlook'd, or rather ne'er perceived, 
 
 By eyes inebriate with too much success, 
 
 Or turn'd too long and keenly on the gold, 
 
 The glittering, nerve-obtunding gold of trade. 
 
 And still the more the blush of conscious shame 
 
 Should tinge our cheeks to see, in lasting proof, 
 
 Our pious sires conceived of holy things 
 
 Far better; and with scarcely half our means 
 
 Have left examples, which to emulate 
 
 Might be our pride on more accounts than one. 
 
 With them the art precise; the studious toil; 
 
 Expense unsuram'd, and fabrication rare, 
 
 Once heretofore prescribed by Heaven itself 
 
 For things of holy purpose,* (and by forms 
 
 * The Tabernacle and its appendages, Exod. xxv, xxvi, 
 xxvri, xxviii.
 
 26 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Which our own nature ever feels as fit 
 
 And meet,) was testimony, shining bright, 
 
 As the noon sun, what God of man expects 
 
 When zeal presents the voluntary fine. 
 
 Witness, in part, this pile of sculpture fair, 
 
 Raised but to serve a thinly scatter'd range 
 
 Of humble cots, though now, from ampler wealth 
 
 The village blooms with more extended charms- 
 
 Of soft retreat. Tis not superb, indeed, 
 
 (For what on earth can reach the high intent?) 
 
 Yet to their means in comeliest sort adorn'd, 
 
 To honour Him to whom we all things owe, 
 
 To prove their faith, and animate their zeal, 
 
 We see e'en now (though wanting still in what 
 
 A little pious care, and nicer taste, 
 
 Would soon restore) its form can win regard, 
 
 Touch the fond breast, and heavenly thoughts inspire. 
 
 Fitness and duty thus, in union urge 
 Their forceful plea. But, to the well-form'd mind, 
 May not these pious deeds a joy convey
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 27 
 
 Peculiar as divine, adapted still 
 
 With instant soothings, and transcendant hopes, 
 
 To aid the current of whatever streams 
 
 Devolve from kindred founts? When Israel's King 
 
 Amid.unnumber'd crowds of ardent eyes, 
 
 Stood on the brazen throne, with hands out-spread 
 
 And face to Heaven up-raised, in instant act, 
 
 Assigning to Jehovah's hallow'd Name 
 
 The Pile august he was ordain'd to rear ; 
 
 When, all at once, the choir of harps and trumps, 
 
 And pealing shouts, rang through the vaulted sky, 
 
 And fire descending, and th' effulgent cloud 
 
 Of dread Shechinah, bursting all around, 
 
 Gave formal signal of approof divine ; 
 
 When this forth shone, and earth a semblance bore 
 
 Of sainted jubilee in realms above, 
 
 If ever mortal bosom felt the flames 
 
 Of Heaven's high transport ; felt its throbbing void 
 
 Of wish'd-for, unknown bliss, to th' utmost fill'd, 
 
 Twas then ; 'twas his, who, with a monarch's name, 
 
 Stood thus pre-eminent in favour'd zeal,
 
 28 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Religion's glory, and his subjects' pride. 
 
 But so to stand, an honour'd mean select, 
 
 Between enraptured myriads and their God, 
 
 In real co-operation to achieve 
 
 With Him a heavenly purpose, may not oft, 
 
 In such supreme acceptances, become 
 
 The lot of man ; nor yet that transport pure, 
 
 Deem'd scarce of fainter glow, which fill'd the 
 
 breast 
 Of him,* whose zeal in after periods cleansed 
 And restored from ravage and pollution, 
 This self-same Pile, committed by the hands 
 Of his unfaithful sacrilegious sires : 
 Nor (nearer in example) what was felt 
 By the illustrious Champion of the Church,f 
 Who on like errand, with like glowing zeal, 
 Went the first morning's dawn that gave him power. 
 Though the full tide of such exalted joy 
 
 * Hezekiah. Vide 2 Chron. chap. xxix. ; also 2 Kings, 
 chap, xvi, xviii, &c. 
 
 f Dr. Hacket, Bishop of Litchfield. See his Life at large, 
 by Dr. Plume, prefixed to his volume of Sermons.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 29 
 
 But few can ever hope ; yet still there flow 
 Abundant branching streams of gentler lapse 
 Which all may freely taste, who have the will 
 To honour God in these praise-worthy deeds. 
 
 And, is it true, and in these letter'd times, 
 That such depravity and folly meet, 
 As dare, with hands audaciously profane, 
 Mock th' appropriate Temple of our God, 
 And make its sacred semblance (spire antique, 
 Buttress, and mitred window) a mere lodge 
 For beasts impure ; a stable, or a stye ? 
 And mimicry thus blazon'd, can they think, 
 Yields honour, if it gain the ready smile 
 Of Wit corrupted ; tickled with what boys 
 Should hold in scorn? Yes, this unthinking crime, 
 This bold burlesque, has been committed so, 
 That Profligacy, galloping full speed, 
 Can scarce o'erlook the type of what too oft 
 Draws from its lips some irreligious sneer. 
 And happy if the owner never feel,
 
 30 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 For his irreverence, chastisement more sharp 
 
 Than th' endurance of the pile itself, 
 
 Far off, and lastingly to signify 
 
 To better minds, with nobler aims inspired, 
 
 His weak perception, and his childish taste.
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 BOOK II.
 
 [33 ] 
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 But see, around the reverend Pastor stand 
 His gathcr'd flock, and ready to commence 
 Their duteous rites ; rites so well known, so oft 
 Occurring, and so graven, we would hope, 
 On every bosom, that the devious Muse 
 Here shuns precise description. Not that she, 
 Though on Pierus born (a Pagan mount), 
 And call'd herself a goddess, thence declines 
 To mix her vows with their's. No ; the pure drops 
 Of Jordan's hallow'd stream, she knows, have touch'd 
 Her forehead fair, and purged each in-bred stain. 
 
 D
 
 34 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 And well she knows, her fires are Nature's fires ; 
 That where man's breast has interest, there 'tis her's 
 To aid his sympathies with warmth divine. 
 Yet here, she, wayward, wills, rather to court 
 A varied train of thought the theme suggests, 
 As Fancy leads; and thus it gently flows, 
 Form'd to the cadence of her Dorian lay. 
 
 Here we behold, in colours bright display'd, 
 A portion of the map of motley Man, 
 Which does him honour great as its reward. 
 As mortal, weak, dependant, fleeting, frail, 
 Beset with daily ills, and hourly death, 
 Here, with his fellow men, by Nature made 
 Of the same fellow clay, he throws aside 
 The vain distinctions of a giddy world, 
 And meekly, at the Throne of Mercy, begs 
 The vital boon, which, if procured, he lives; 
 But, if the slightest interval denied, 
 He droops, he falls, to mingle with the dust 
 From whence he first was form'd. Here with high 
 hope,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 35 
 
 The Christian's glorious hope (built on firm Faith 
 
 In Him, who from th' oblivious shades of death, 
 
 By his exhaustless love, and painful cross, 
 
 Redeem'd obnoxious man,) he now implores 
 
 Pardon for sin, and, as his Saviour bids, 
 
 Gracious assistance from the Fount Divine 
 
 To purify his thoughts, direct his deeds, 
 
 And bless them with acceptance. Then, in strains 
 
 Of liveliest gratitude, and gladsome praise, 
 
 He lauds the Great Supreme, enraptured sings, 
 
 The grave deprived of victory ; the joys, 
 
 Th' immortal joys, prepared in other realms, 
 
 Where pain and sorrow can approach no more, 
 
 For those found faithful to his holy will, i 
 
 Such sacrifice from Virtue's bosom raised, 
 How lovely ! From meek Penitence, how fit ! 
 How bright it blazons forth the charms supreme 
 Of fair unfeign'd Religion ! How exalts 
 Whate'er our sympathies bestow of grace 
 On sullied Nature ! How with honour crowns
 
 36 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Each mental effort, form'd to cleanse the soul 
 From earthly taints, and fit it for the skies ! 
 
 And more (nor let Philosophy o'erlook 
 The kindred truth it simply would unfold.) 
 Though many a calm and profitable joy 
 The mind in solitude may taste and prize, 
 (Taste, as fit solace; prize for studious good,) 
 Yet, the most high and animating bliss 
 Its destined frame ennobles us to know, 
 Is when, in some pre-eminent display 
 Of congregated and heart-feeling zeal, 
 It wakes its virtuous ardencies ; and mind 
 Mingling with mind, enflaming and enflamed, 
 Gives full fruition to its social powers; 
 As when (so faith instructs us to conceive 
 Of joys celestial) when the sainted hosts, 
 In endless choirs around the heavenly throne, 
 With one accord triumphantly adore 
 Their Source, their Stay, their Bliss, The King of 
 Khtgs,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 37 
 
 Giving and gaining transports of delight 
 Vast as the numbers of the glorious throng. 
 
 And why, ah ! why, when in these lonely groves 
 Of fainter light, this duty ever meets 
 Fitting observance ; why, in cities famed 
 For ev'ry gift fair Science can bestow, 
 Do its repeated calls, on numerous ears 
 So bootless vibrate ? with such small effect 
 Remind them they are men of mortal frame, 
 Not placed on earth to wanton and to sport 
 In callous vanities and sensual joys, 
 But for far nobler purpose ; to obtain, 
 Through conduct that becomes probation's end, 
 And the true Christian warfare, a prepared 
 And bless'd inheritance beyond the grave, 
 Of endless date ; blooming with all that can 
 To Wisdom's eye, or ear (refined by taste, 
 Adorn'd with knowledge, or sublimed through 
 
 grace) 
 Give rational delight ; fill ev'ry hope
 
 38 THJS RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 The panting soul may struggle to enjoy. 
 Why this, indeed ! Turn to the sacred words 
 Of Heaven itself; they tell at once the cause; 
 Nor leave unnoticed its appropriate curse.- 
 Delusion is gone forth; and blinded minds, 
 And perverse spirits, while they talk of truth, 
 Believe a lie; the recompense most fit 
 For all who trust in Vanity, and shun 
 Religion's paths. 'Tis hence, " in cities famed 
 For ev'ry gift fair Science can bestow," 
 God, and his hallow'd fanes are near forgot, 
 And cold indiff 'rence, and audacious pride, 
 Estrange the breast from Piety's first joy, 
 Due adoration of the Lord of ah.: 
 That adoration, which, with pleasure paid, 
 Must bring down blessings, if withheld; a wrath 
 The stoutest confidence may fear, or feel. 
 
 But raised to such high themes, e'en in these 
 courts, 
 Man cannot long, with fervour duly fraught,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 39 
 
 Sustain his powers ; and Fancy will at times 
 (As at some pause) her wand'ring thoughts obtrude, 
 Born on less tow'ring, less expanded wing. 
 And let them come, if but in garb array 'd 
 Congenial with the scene ; and thus hoar age, 
 Urging the grave, will ponder on the hour, 
 The dread momentous hour, and near at hand, 
 When quitting this abode he must stand forth 
 Before his awful Judge, and trembling hear, 
 Just as his deeds have been, a sentence pass 
 Eternally to fix his future fate. 
 And O ! how bless'd, did now contrition touch 
 The sinner's bosom ; warn him hence to shun 
 His rounds of guilty pleasure, and, in time, 
 Seek the bright paths of innocence and peace. 
 Now, too, the parent fondly will recall 
 His children's varying lots ; no longer fix'd 
 Beneath the guidance of his watchful care ; 
 But far dispersed, perhaps in other climes, 
 Wooing the smiles of fortune, and, as men, 
 Suffering, full oft, the destined ills of life.
 
 40 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 O ! then, what boding sighs, what gleams of hope, 
 Hold touching conflict in the pensive breast ! 
 What visions sooth, that yet perchance a day 
 May bring back some dear wanderer to revive 
 His drooping age; still more endear the scenes 
 He long has trod ; and then, at Nature's call, 
 Close his fond dying eyes in lasting peace. 
 
 And here the Muse, amid the pious group, 
 With partial note surveys a happy few, 
 The natives of these fields, whose early steps, 
 Led by the impulse of aspiring youth, 
 Sought the gay scenes of cities ; foreign shores, 
 Where wealth, and arts, the knowledge of mankind, 
 Are at their summit only to be found. 
 They, not unprosperous, yet aware betimes 
 How vain terrestrial pageantry and strife, 
 W'ise through experience, from reflection meek, 
 And conscious of th' important charge to prove 
 In favour with their God, whene'er he gives 
 The fatal summons which must all await ;
 
 THE RURAL SABEATH. 41 
 
 And conscious too (while competence and health 
 
 Cheer some amusing object of employ) 
 
 That virtue and good name, a few choice friends 
 
 Of taste and worth, in every place will yield 
 
 All the prime means of sublunary bliss. 
 
 With this impress'd, their eager wishes led 
 
 To calm Retirement's groves, in soothing hope, 
 
 Where first their breath was drawn to end their 
 
 days, 
 And waste, in meditation and in peace, 
 Their last, their softest interval of time. 
 And thus prepared, while modes of simplest life 
 Offend not their chaste judgment, and, perchance, 
 A rural note, a gleam of female grace, 
 Or some fair column of th' incumbent pile, 
 Suggest the fanes august, the gilded domes ; 
 The throngs of beauty, and theatric choirs 
 In cities seen ; and all the winning charms 
 Of kindred arts long witness'd and endear'd ; 
 They pass them o'er their firm concentred minds, 
 Not without pleasure, but without regret.
 
 42 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 They know Life's fragile joys are circumscribed ; 
 That all things have their time ; and happiest he 
 Who gives them bounds as wisdom marks the line. 
 
 And shall not here the Muse her voice apply 
 To hail the loved Retirement, by whose smiles 
 Chiefly, she now, on roving pinions born, 
 Scans these poetic glades ; how prosperous, 
 They haply be6t may judge, who best have proved 
 The blessings of her nurture ? Then, all hail ! 
 Thou downy pillow for the World's harsh cares ; 
 Thou gentle nurse of Fancy's soothing dreams, 
 And wing of Contemplation, strong to pierce 
 The skies high-towering ! Yet, propitious Fair, 
 It is not now she hails thy favourite name 
 For perishing, or visionary good ; 
 That o'er thy meads, amid pellucid streams, 
 Waves the pure breeze of health, and countless 
 
 birds, 
 On blooming branches perch'd, thy pathways 
 charm
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 43 
 
 With Nature's melody : Or that inwrapp'd 
 
 In thy calm groves, the high aspiring views 
 
 Of Science, and the Arts of nobler kind, 
 
 Are best accomplish'd; that a Tully sage ; 
 
 Correlli tuneful ; Ariosto's Muse, 
 
 And Bacon's genius, sought thy friendly aid ; 
 
 But 'tis, that to the pure and feeling mind, 
 
 Versed in the world, and liberally imbued 
 
 With Truth's most valued lore, thou opest the 
 
 best, 
 And, oft times, only medium to enforce 
 The full impression of the import vast 
 Of Heaven-born, fairRELiGiON; thence, in thought, 
 To soar beyond these transitory scenes, 
 And wait their close, when other climes receive 
 Th' enraptured spirits that have lived aright. 
 So Walsingham * conceived of earthly things ; 
 
 * Sir Francis PPalsingliam. This famous statesman under 
 Queen Elizabeth, in a letter to the Lord Chancellor, intended 
 to justify his retirement, said, " We have lived enough, my 
 Lord, to our country, to our Sovereign, and to our fortunes ; 
 it is high time to begin to live to ourselves."
 
 4* THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 So Wotton* and Valdesso;f and the Prince, 
 Who, for thy sake, in fair Plazencia's shades, 
 With all the winning blandishments of pomp 
 That flatter pride, and fascinate in courts, 
 Gladly resign'd the splendour of a crown.} 
 As the corporeal eye, from some domain 
 Of western slope, sees, and delighted sees, 
 (What cities cloud-involved can seldom view) 
 Near-setting suns autumnal, tints and shapes, 
 Amid the clouds that streak the onward sky, 
 Suggestive of fair happy bowers and glades 
 
 * Sir Henry Wotton. On retiring from public business, 
 this most learned scholar and approved ambassador, chose 
 these words for his motto: " At last I have learnt, that 
 retirement is the best way to make us wise." 
 
 f Seignior John Paldesso. A serious regard for religious 
 concerns induced this noble Spaniard to quit all the parade of 
 courts for retirement, and to extend the influence of his exam- 
 ple as far as he could by his life and writings. 
 
 X The well-known Emperor Charles the Fifth, who, with 
 great magnamity of mind, deliberately retired from his most 
 elevated station, on an annual pension, to a monastery, in order 
 to enjoy relief from the cares of this world, and, by religious 
 meditation among religious men, to prepare himself for a 
 better.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 45 
 
 Seated far off, in regions vast ; illumed 
 With nearer suns of more resplendent glow ; 
 So may the mental eye, in years mature, 
 Uprear'd by Faith, and prescient from its might, 
 Look o'er the barriers of this frail terrene, 
 And view the glories of the bless'd abodes 
 Of man made perfect ; their savannahs soft, 
 And meads of palmy shade ; where endless day, 
 With more ethereal radiance, throws its beams 
 On forms more heavenly fair; enticing still, 
 And still out-going hope, to other plains 
 Of boundless continuity, assign'd 
 To those enraptured and seraphic hosts, 
 Who, through their radiant confines, ever laud 
 Th' unceasing mercies of the Lord of all. 
 For this, thou fair Assistant of our hopes 
 Which Heaven-ward tend, thou well deserv'st the 
 
 vows 
 Which Virtue long has utter'd at thy shrine. 
 
 Still on the group the Muse her eye directs, 
 And thus pursues her meditating strain.
 
 4(5 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 When from some mountain's height, we view 
 below 
 The landscape far extended ; light, and shade, 
 And form, and hill, and dale, mingled with streaks 
 Of variegated tints; the bare-brown rock; 
 The verdant mead ; the olive-dappled wood ; 
 The homely patches of the dusky farm 
 Diffused around the villa's brighter sheen, 
 Or hamlet's precincts gray, lost in a sense 
 Of stronger power, not oft Reflection, then, 
 Turns the Mind's eye to view, what she alone 
 Can see of Motion's sway ; the rambling herds; 
 Oft-waving groves, and never-ceasing streams 
 Transmitting to innumerable wheels 
 Their active energies; mechanic arts 
 Prolific, vast, and all the shifting steps 
 Of busy, bustling life. Perchance, still less 
 The mental survey feelingly adverts 
 To man's domestic pleasures ; his snug home, 
 Neat, if not highly elegant, supplied 
 Amply with all things that can comfort yield, 
 Or charm the eye of Taste, or lead the mind,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 47 
 
 Through the sound precepts of the saint or sage, 
 To farthest heights of wisdom and renown. 
 So thus (but to th' associate topics turn'd) 
 Will Fancy here the Human Visage scan; 
 Will see its form, or blooming in gay youth, 
 Fair as the flower, adorn'd with glistening hair, 
 Flowing and copious, and the sprightly eye 
 But seldom at a stay : Or, by chill age 
 As inwardly it shrinks, the orb bereaved 
 Of wonted lustre, and the bared scalp 
 Scarce now retaining its slight fleecy verge. 
 Here, deck'd with symmetry and features bold, 
 Robust and healthy, animate throughout, 
 The sign of happiness, it wins regard ; 
 There, mark'd with disproportion, and the traits 
 Of humblest order; sickly; drooping; wan, 
 Or broken down with toil and care, it speaks 
 The symptoms premature of waning years. 
 Yet none, the while, so fair but some defect 
 Impairs its beauty ; none so plainly form'd 
 But manifests an element of grace,
 
 48 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Or comely trait, that claims attention due. 
 
 As in the earth's mix'd aspect, where we find, 
 
 Amid its hills sublime, and beauteous vales, 
 
 Full many a rent infirm, and region rude, 
 
 Which shews some pristine shock of dreadful sway 
 
 Has visited its confines ; changed its frame. 
 
 So, in this living scene, we may behold 
 
 Man's fairest lineaments, his noblest part, 
 
 Betray fragility which speaks aloud 
 
 A fall from better hopes ; a morbid taint, 
 
 Derived from Nature, ever to abide 
 
 Till Heavenly Mercy heal the fatal ill. 
 
 And mournful were th' effects of fleeting time 
 
 Here full display'd : and sore might drooping Man 
 
 Bewail his numerous frailties, did not Faith 
 
 Assure that Mercy in its amplest form. 
 
 And, is it too much fancy should we deem 
 That, as, when call'd to Heaven's resplendent realms 
 The soul will find her sacred powers endow'd 
 With more angelic excellence, and yet
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 49 
 
 Their primal bent or character remain 
 
 Distinctively impress'd ; so, like respect 
 
 To semblance personal (to that real form 
 
 Of youthful prime, where Nature best displays 
 
 Her decorating skill) haply may give 
 
 The glorious body, then to be prepared, 
 
 A due similitude of what it was. 
 
 And (lost to us how soon!) Amelia, now, 
 
 When Heaven is thine, from suff'rings patient borne, 
 
 And meekest innocence, fondly and oft 
 
 Imagination sees thy budding charms 
 
 Of graceful symmetry, demeanour mild, 
 
 And elegance of feature, bloom beyond 
 
 Their earthly promise, and, amid the throng 
 
 Of sainted beauty, shine supremely fair. 
 
 But, though a while the pondering mind may view 
 The group sedate ; its various speaking traits, 
 And in exteriors only gratify 
 A partial aim, her better form'd research 
 And scope of meditation, soon will roam
 
 50 THE RURAL SABBATII. 
 
 Beyond this boundary, and with wonder trace 
 
 The powers of Intellect, whose excellence, 
 
 The frail integument which they adorn 
 
 Oft speaks but feebly. Like another sun 
 
 The plastic mind, there lights another world, 
 
 Vast, luminous, and fair, endow'd with laws 
 
 And energies peculiar, and beyond 
 
 Her own best efforts ever to define. 
 
 Where, if the earth's dark veil some parts o'ershade, 
 
 How far 'tis from obscuring all its charms ! 
 
 This is the favourite province that employs 
 
 Man's highest care ; gives him unbounded realms 
 
 The power of kings, the folly of their foes, 
 
 Can ne'er annoy ; gives him a citadel 
 
 Which keeps the elbowings of the world aloof; 
 
 Where, let its earth-born series of events 
 
 Seem e'er so dark, move e'er so harsh, quickly 
 
 He can retire, and calm his thoughts perturb'd 
 
 With their own sunshine, and fair fancied scenes 
 
 For ever gliding smooth in bright array. 
 
 And here the high perceptive power divine.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. -51 
 
 Can see the rudiments of things subsist 
 
 In embryo; trace their final aims ; their laws 
 
 Of meet relation ; and, as lightning swift, 
 
 Traverse th' ethereal void, and count, and span 
 
 Its glittering orbs. Then, of import more, 
 
 Pervade the moral system. Thence ascend 
 
 To the Eternal Spirit of the World, , 
 
 The Great Supreme, and see, and powerful feel, 
 
 In its ethereal shootings beyond sense, 
 
 An universe of mind, soliciting 
 
 High-favour'd man, in mutual intercourse 
 
 To aid the purport of its hallow'd laws. 
 
 Yes, there is a Spiritual World, where thought 
 
 May taste of joys ineffable, and reap 
 
 Advantages peculiar as divine ; 
 
 Which all should have in view, and ever strive 
 
 To feel and cultivate with warmest zeal. 
 
 Hence those fond anxious sympathies, that still 
 
 Tremble and throb instinctive for a state 
 
 Of gratified repose they cannot find 
 
 In.these frail regions ; hence the flights sublime
 
 52 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Of Contemplation, and the Heaven-drawn beams 
 Of fair Religion, pour'd on wilder'd man 
 Refulgent as benign; and hence ordain'd 
 The present rites to warm and exercise 
 These sacred gifts, and wing the soul to Heaven. 
 
 Various as swift the Muse excursive takes 
 Her airy flights, as Fancy leads the way. 
 And now to what the passing scene presents, 
 Where, as would seem, amendment might take place 
 Not hard to compass, she her lyre attunes ; 
 And, ever meaning well, whate'er the theme, 
 Gives to its melodies a varied tone. 
 
 Peace to our English Church ; and peace to all 
 Whose rock is Christ ! But, with a partial eye 
 Beholding her fair lineaments, where live, 
 In traits conspicuous, ardent love of truth ; 
 Sound learning ; charity ; unnumber'd charms 
 Of beauteous order, and ingenious skill, 
 Again, I say, peace to our English. Church :
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 53 
 
 And may she never more have cause to weep 
 Barbaric blindness, or fanatic zeal; 
 But still, from age to age, in outward form, 
 And comeliness advance, as shines around 
 Her inward sanctity, and as her sons 
 Rise in pre-eminence of virtuous fame ! 
 But what is perfect ? From enlightning time, 
 What may not reap advantage ? And is not 
 Our native transcript of Heaven's sacred will, 
 Our stated ritual forms (though in their sum 
 Of worth most excellent) granted by all 
 Debased with blemishes, which skill and care 
 Might quickly cancel, and delight at once 
 Our literate taste, and love of hallow'd truth, 
 For such attempt as many reasons plead 
 As are the grateful feelings it would raise. 
 Then why delay the effort ? Why not call 
 By rightful summons to the happy task, 
 Our learn'd and pious teachers ; they to whom, 
 In special sort, the oracles of God 
 Were evermore assign'd. Great as the charge
 
 54 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Their literature and skill; their worth and zeal, 
 Bear meet relation. And, were realized 
 This vvish'd and hoped acquirement, how the breast 
 Of warm ingenious Piety would bound, 
 To know her Heavenly manna treasured up 
 Complete as it is safe, within an ark 
 Corruption cannot touch ; no foe annoy, 
 While letters and religion bless these isles! 
 
 f Proficiency in ev'ry practic art 
 Must needs arise from practice; from research, 
 Experience, and the captivating ease 
 Which habit gives. Be it to trace the dance 
 With tee right-active ; to awake with skill 
 The organ's pealing harmony ; or e'en 
 Dextrous to toss the school-boy's cup and ball. 
 Yet, in the Church, its Ministers, full oft, 
 Undisciplined, unheeding, unprepared, 
 At once adventure to display an art 
 Of prime account in ev'ry varying branch 
 Of their high calling ; the important art
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 55 
 
 Of reading, or delivering with due power 
 
 The stated ritual ; and which, whate'er 
 
 Self-confidence may whisper, only time, 
 
 Much use, and much assiduous recourse 
 
 To precepts and examples well approved 
 
 Can e'er confer with those superior charms 
 
 Th' exertion of its scarce-known powers may reach. 
 
 Hence springs one cause, in these fastidious days, 
 
 Of social worship's coldness and decline : 
 
 The hearer feels no heart-elating sounds 
 
 Arouse religious ardour. He who speaks. 
 
 Finding he speaks so little to delight, 
 
 Experiences no self-complacent throbs 
 
 To animate his fervours. Hence alike 
 
 Both parties with a cold indiff 'rence join 
 
 Those vows, whose mutual purport should ascend, 
 
 With ardency as mutual to the skies. 
 
 This all must see. And as it asks reform , 
 
 Ye, who are call'd to minister with care 
 
 God's holy word and ordinances, give 
 
 (Whate'er your learning, or whate'er your parts)
 
 56 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Due previous application to obtain 
 That manner and address which best may aid 
 Your written forms, and win deserved applause 
 Manner of modulation, just and neat ; 
 Manner of action, graceful, yet subdued ; 
 Manner of so uniting with the whole, 
 Expressive tones, from simple nature drawn, 
 As may, with all the efficacy sought, 
 Ensure attention, and the heart command. J 
 
 And whence, in this refined aspiring age, 
 When almost all we do, or say, assumes 
 An Attic polish; whence, and how is it, 
 We find no elegance, or well-aim'd skill 
 Adorn and vivify the sacred strains 
 Oft utler'd in our choirs ? Why thus droops 
 The song of Sion ? Does the spirit mean 
 Of harden'd Avarice, or Piety 
 Grown cold, or sluggish Inadvertence, shut 
 The ear and hand against attention due 
 To this delightful sacrifice ; the praise
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 57 
 
 Of Him who made us? Whatsoe'er the cause, 
 
 Tis fitting, surely, the effect should cease ; 
 
 And that, replete with ev'ry modest charm 
 
 Of taste executive our means can reach, 
 
 It henceforth flourish. O ! let not decay 
 
 The pleasing sympathies which Nature placed 
 
 Betwixt the voice of man, and the soft chords 
 
 Which tremble round his heart. Let Fancy still 
 
 To the devout aspirings of the soul 
 
 Lend all her soothing aid ! And when, at times, 
 
 The choral anthems through the sacred aisles 
 
 Their tuneful replications whisp'ring speed, 
 
 And rapture high each pious bosom warms, 
 
 Then may, suggestively, that Fancy view, 
 
 How o'er Heaven's blissful and all-glorious domes 
 
 Echo the loud hosannas, which, with joy 
 
 Ineffable, transport th' angelic host, 
 
 As, from their Maker's smiles, with grace and 
 
 love 
 Transcendently adorn'd, they ever reap 
 Beatitude no mortal terms may tell.
 
 58 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 But this obtain'd and more ; did all fair aids 
 That decency and order might suggest 
 Constant our holy rituals adorn ; 
 Did soundest creeds and systems fill the mind ; 
 Candour of noblest range endow the breast, 
 And (what, alas ! from merely human means 
 So frequent foil'd, 'tis vanity to hope) 
 Could learn'd industry unerring trace 
 The line whose now oft dubitable paths 
 Divides essential sacred truths from points 
 Less weighty, and of whose authentic grounds 
 And real forms, opinion safely may 
 Indulge her favourite theories : Were this gain'd 
 To ev'ry wish, and clearly to the eye 
 Of all depicted, little would the whole 
 Avail Religion's purport, if the heart 
 Feel not its fervours, nor, with stedfast faith, 
 Look up to God ; and, duteous to his will, 
 Bend ev'ry effort to obtain his smiles. 
 
 _ Though better times will come, (so Heaven's own 
 words
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 59 
 
 Announce the advent) how degenerate now 
 Seems the whole Christian world ! Through ev'ry 
 
 realm, 
 In all the gay and busy scenes of life, 
 From him who shines in courts to him who plies 
 The spade or loom, have lamentably lost 
 Its fit remembrance of the end of man; 
 His frailties ; duties ; that there is a day 
 To judge in righteousness his thoughts and deeds! 
 Hence 'tis, from youth in whate'er station bred, 
 Or age itself just tott 'ring o'er the grave, 
 When hear we our Redeemer's name pronounced 
 With grateful ardour ? when Religion's truths, 
 And future hopes, with seriousness engage 
 Due converse, and, without reluctance, take 
 An hour from vain and frivolous pursuits \ y 
 
 While thus amid the days of youth so few 
 Remember their Creator, and as few . 
 Grown old in wealth, keep cautiously in mind 
 The Scripture's needle-eye, rarely we note,
 
 60 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 (Gracing these shores of mercantile excess) 
 
 The human visage speak, in genuine traits, 
 
 A mind correct, impractised in the scenes 
 
 Of some depraving folly ? If 'tis gay, 
 
 Seldom it springs from innocent delights 
 
 Simply amusive, but the radiant glow 
 
 Of joys luxurious, or the giddy rounds 
 
 Of vain, fantastic, animal parade. 
 
 And when the channell'd brow is serious seen, 
 
 Less frequent 'tis eternity's concerns 
 
 The soul affect, than instant sordid cares ; 
 
 Some deep-form'd project to lay house to house, 
 
 And field to field, and gratify the love 
 
 Of worldly consequence, and growing gain. 
 
 From these debasing features of the times, 
 Combined with darker criminal pursuits 
 Which vice has ever loved, and the new code 
 Of black licentious tenets, form'd to give 
 Our worst propensities unbounded range, 
 We see how pleasure, vanity, and gold;
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 6l 
 
 Commercial eagerness ; effeminate 
 
 O'er-valued arts ; the never-ceasing calls 
 
 Of festive intercourse (by habit made 
 
 Essential to the passing of each hour), 
 
 Have banish'd from the ear, and from the mind, 
 
 All sound reflection ; ev'ry warning voice 
 
 To tell us what we are. Thus God is mock'd ; 
 
 His laws transgress'd. And now, as just return 
 
 For such foul dereliction, he permits 
 
 (And much perhaps enflames life's common ills) 
 
 An evil heart of unbelief, around 
 
 To spread its catching bane; harden'd and cheer'd 
 
 With the proud boastings of what some men call 
 
 Philosophy ; but others better name, 
 
 Perversion, blindness, blasphemy, and sin. 
 
 The sequel is tremendous as 'tis plain. 
 
 Strengthening the documents of old display'd 
 
 In Israel's sacred story, it is now* 
 
 Seen glaring, in the horrid ills and crimes 
 
 That near us rage, blasting all human good, 
 
 .* The latter end of December, 1792.
 
 62 THE 11URAL SABBATH. 
 
 Religion, law, and order; and whose strong 
 Destructive shocks, may, ere we are aware, 
 (And if amendment don't obstruct their course,) 
 Reach, and o'erwhelm this half-apostate Isle, y 
 
 Here, as our wand'ring meditations end, 
 The service ends. And now th' endearing world 
 Again breaks on the hearers. Home they hie, 
 In different groups, at different speeds, through paths 
 Equally varied, and with chat, alike 
 Devote to Freedom's gay and sober charms.
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 BOOK III.
 
 [65] 
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 1 hough the appropriate topics of the day 
 Lead obvious on, 'tis not the Muse's aim 
 To follow them implicit. Free, as chaste, 
 She, wandering, loves at will to dwell on themes 
 Which gently warble from her soft-toned lyre, 
 And bosoms touch congenial with her own ; 
 Or, if of harsher strain, some ethic view 
 Compels to the departure. Leave we then, 
 Unsung, th' approaching noon repast ; its forms, 
 And all its social renovating cheer ; 
 Trusting, that season'd with befitting truth,
 
 66 
 
 THE RURAL SABEATH. 
 
 Moral, religious, and of loyal cast, 
 
 Its free, harmonious converse will be found. 
 
 The dinner o'er, amusement next takes place. 
 Some (most the aged and infirm) awhile 
 Continue to peruse the weighty page 
 Of Holy Writ, accustomed to succeed 
 This sabbath meal. Others more active, bent 
 On healthier recreation, seek the fields ; 
 And there consociate (while the cheerful bells 
 Again resume their sounds, and in the mind, 
 Lightsome and gay, accordant thoughts inspire), 
 Wander at large the ever-varying paths 
 Which join the farms, or border on the stream 
 That winds along the vale, verging at times 
 The intermingled villas, and snug cots ; 
 Where soft Retirement, and contented Wealth 
 Scatter their sylvan sweets ; where wood, and lawn, 
 And trees, and shrubs, and flowers of various hues, 
 Frequent inmix'd with neatly-tinted pales 
 By taste disposed, still catch th' observing eye.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 6f 
 
 Tis then the village blooms in all its charms, 
 Then prosperous courts the calm and cultured mind 
 There to repose and spend the eve of life. 
 
 And then, perchance, amid the hamlet glades, 
 Parental fondness, with its younger charge, 
 Strays to enjoy the gladsome summer ray, 
 Considering deep, how best, in future life, 
 To place with caution due and happy hopes 
 Those elder grown, Much the thought affects; 
 But most the mother. She anticipates, 
 With heart-felt sadness, the quick-coming hour 
 Which from her presence and her tender care 
 Will tear them, never oft to meet again; 
 And haply then, the meeting to be short, 
 And still partaking of the fearful gloom 
 Which parting gives. The last, the last farewell 
 O'erwhelms her quite, and gently draws the tear 
 She'd fain suppress. But now a prattler comes, 
 And to an offer'd flower recalls her thoughts : 
 She smiles, though pensive ; then in gentle tone
 
 68 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Tells her sweet girl its high and various worth ; 
 Points out its beauties ; praises ev'ry charm ; 
 But still the whole, with due preceptive care, 
 Attributes to the boundless power of God. 
 And, what is God ? a lesser stripling asks ; 
 Not inattentive to th' improving tale. 
 At that prompt word, the father, by the hand, 
 Takes him aside to answer the request. 
 He hears with eager looks, and solemn awe ; 
 Revolves, and re-revolves the great account, 
 And in a serious thankfulness, from thence, 
 Treasures the secret in his grateful breast, 
 For ever there to dwell. Such is the force 
 Of this transcendent truth ; and thus the mind 
 Is form'd by Nature for its general sway. 
 
 And, can there be a task of more delight 
 More import, than through aptitude like these 
 On bosoms, warm, and docile as they're young, 
 To pour Instruction's salutary lore ? 
 To fix each ruling principle of life
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 6*9 
 
 On basis due ? Whether its ultimate 
 
 Sanction and force, on demonstration rest ; 
 
 Or on the still more numerous documents 
 
 Of sage experience, or implicit trust 
 
 In man's report, of Heaven's revealed will ; 
 
 Which, let the sceptic cavil e'er so long, 
 
 Must have its power and right to sway the mind. 
 
 Hence 'tis on Faith, Religion first implants 
 
 Her sacred truths, howe'er in riper years 
 
 A more enlighten'd eye may scrutinize, 
 
 Or slight some tenets. Morals, too, though drawn 
 
 From clear instinctive fountains, best are taught 
 
 When urged by such traditionary aid ; 
 
 While QLconomic's wider rules can't need, 
 
 And seldom ask, authority more high. 
 
 But, pleasing as 'tis thus to nurture youth 
 In Wisdom's various lore ; and evident 
 As, to the well-form'd mind, its precepts lie, 
 And mediums of conveyance ; yet, alas ! 
 How much the fascinating joys of life,
 
 70 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 How much a wayward, predetermined bent 
 
 Still thwart th* important purpose ; still withhold 
 
 That modest candour ; genuine love of truth ; 
 
 That ardent assiduity and care, 
 
 The task peculiar needs. This sad neglect, 
 
 In these most vain and inauspicious days, 
 
 In ev'ry path which duty bids us tread 
 
 In instances extreme, we hourly see 
 
 Debase our nature, and enhance our crimes. 
 
 But, ever peering o'er the noisy brood 
 Of human follies, some one, casual grown 
 To giant size, pre-eminently stands, 
 The idol new, the Baal of the day ; 
 And, as its votaries bend the pliant knee, 
 Shout, and wide spread the fascinating name, 
 Asks note and censure from the moral Muse. 
 
 And now 'tis, hail the philosophic mode 
 Of meliorating mind, and curing all 
 Its inbred frailties, and contracted warps, 
 /
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 71 
 
 By new-discover'd properties of things ! 
 
 Simply material; where Eucledian lines, 
 
 Primordeal atoms ; figure, motion, powers 
 
 Attractive and repulsive, duly scann'd, 
 
 In all their varied unions and effects, 
 
 Lead to such secrets of Life's puzzling maze ; 
 
 Throw light so clear on theologic schemes 
 
 And plans of polity, as shew, at once, 
 
 How little of their nobler traits adorn 
 
 The scanty page of Moses and Saint Paul. 
 
 For, since in air attenuated high 
 
 By pumps pneumatic, wrought by rack and wheel; 
 
 Or deleterious made, through process deep 
 
 Of chemical analysis, we can, 
 
 As 'twere the work of magic, in a trice 
 
 Smother all kinds of vermin : And, still more, 
 
 Equipt with instrument, form'd for the nonce, 
 
 Sheer through a solid quire of whited-brown 
 
 Drive th' electric spark : Or, from the clouds 
 
 Murk, threat'ning, and with deadly rage surcharged, 
 
 Extract the thunder down metallic rods ;
 
 72 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 So, through like rare appliances of art, 
 Tis ergo'd by the sapience of this school, 
 The hovering evils of our nether world 
 May all be coax'd aside ; the heart corrupt 
 Cleansed to the core, at th' instantaneous touch 
 Of new-reforming fire ; and the small brood 
 Of snarling passions, which our peace annoy, 
 Be choak'd as quick, and with as little toil, 
 As boys may turn a wince. As yet, it seems, 
 These sanguine adepts hold, our powers of mind 
 Are only in their dawn ; that to what heights 
 Of ethic excellence they may attain, 
 When their full energy is keenly urged 
 On physical research; when, not content 
 To hover o'er this earth in towering balls 
 Of buyant gas, they, by Lunardian skill, 
 Haply shall reach the Moon ; then, passing on, 
 Visit the planetary orbs that roll 
 Around the glowing stars, far, far beyond 
 Our late-found Georgium Sidus; studious there, 
 Scan the Philosophy which brighter powers,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 73 
 
 Urged farther on, perchance, may have refined 
 
 To its long wish'd-for acme ; pace its Schools ; 
 
 Talk with its Doctors; read its deep Essays, 
 
 And from these high enlighten'd realms bring down 
 
 Ileal Heaven-drawn truth (authentic beyond doubt, 
 
 If visible and tangible approof 
 
 Can work on faith) whose brilliant rays 
 
 Are not more new than liberal ; not more strange 
 
 Than duly fitted for terrestrial use. 
 
 When this is tried and compass'd, how it may 
 
 Still aid our moral views, e'en gifted wit, 
 
 They hold, scarce knows, much less can narrow 
 
 minds 
 Of bigotry divine. A maxim, too, 
 Of like validity they ne'er omit 
 To mingle with this doctrine ; preaching forth 
 Tis timid footsteps in the ardent chase 
 Of human weal, that most defeats our aims ; 
 That, like the coy affections of the Fair, 
 Whate'er we hope, or wish, must be obtain'd 
 By flattering fervours ; manly, prompt resolves,
 
 74 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 And spirited attacks. In brief, they vaunt 
 
 This rare Philosophy gives to our frame 
 
 What may be term'd a super-added sense 
 
 (No Highland second, but the novel sixth 
 
 Now signalizing Gallia to the world), 
 
 Which sees beyond whate'er was seen before ; 
 
 Makes children, men ; and men, as 'twere, small 
 
 gods; 
 Prescient, unerring ; sovereign in their will, 
 And ready to create new natures, were 
 But matter to their mind. Declining feats, 
 Howe'er, of this high sort, and in reforms 
 Of veritable need, content a while 
 To shew its magic wonders, it now asks 
 Only befitting aid to mould forthwith 
 Anew, this jarring, priest-and-king abused, 
 This woe-begone, and drooping scene of things ; 
 And once again restore the long lost joys 
 Of truth and innocence, of peace and love, 
 Man held in paradise ; bring on the earth, 
 By philosophic efforts, ere too late,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 75 
 
 Saturnian ages ; a Revolution 
 
 Glorious beyond compare, of old foreseen 
 
 By speculative teachers, whose bright tubes 
 
 Of prescience, were the nascent gift of arts 
 
 Now renovating man. Thus Folly dreams, 
 
 And Fraud would have us think the dream divine. 
 
 Yet still the while (so blinded oft is pride!) 
 This healing fruit, thus boastingly assign'd 
 To the world's riper years (and which, forsooth, 
 They name a v ew Philosophy, the more 
 To catch a staring multitude), is known 
 By sober history to be as old 
 As Paul of Tarsus, who in aptest terms 
 (So far as it presumes to mould the heart) 
 Named it at once, False Science ;* nothing 
 
 more ; 
 Born of sheer Vanity (whose parents were 
 Wit nearly half, and Prejudice/!/// bred), 
 Nursed on Utopias lap ; with flattery fill'd 
 
 * l Tim. vi. 20. Coll. ii. 8.
 
 76* THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 To surfeit, and most copiously imbued 
 
 With that vain babbling,* and unfetter'd lore, 
 
 Which, fearless of rebuke, and reckless much 
 
 Of what may follow, oft its quibbles aims 
 
 E'en at the sacred dictates of the sky. 
 
 And now (amid a tribe of other points 
 
 Less worthy note) impels its vent'rous dupes 
 
 First to dispute the notices of sense 
 
 In things material ; next, that men have souls ; 
 
 Or will that's free ; then fair redemption's plan 
 
 As built on purchase of vicarious love ; 
 
 Or aught the sacred Oracles unfold 
 
 Of mystic form, retired in depth's divine 
 
 Beyond their reason's short and narrow ken. 
 
 Hence, no avenging check of slighted Heaven 
 Thundering correction to such tenets bold 
 Appearing o'er their heads, can it be strange, 
 That pupils of their very lowest forms 
 Will lisping urge, in affirmation strong, 
 
 * Rom.xvi. 17.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 77 
 
 That all opinions heretofore espoused 
 
 By priests, by mobs, " by savage or by sage," 
 
 That taught respect and deference to a name ; 
 
 Revered old usages ; or seem'd to say 
 
 Our ancestors knew aught of men and things 
 
 Worthy regard, and fit to be retain'd, 
 
 Are radically slavish and absurd ; 
 
 And that (so add the high illumined youth) 
 
 Those liberal-minded notions, which inspire 
 
 Contempt of all the silly antique tales 
 
 That fill the nursery ; amuse the church ; 
 
 Or prop the state; and which, the while, bespeak 
 
 A spirit free, above all plodding thought ; 
 
 Ungovernably bold ; ever alive 
 
 To human dignity ; charm'd with new schemes ; 
 
 With paradox delighted, and whate'er 
 
 Thwarts the stale principles of Common Sense ;) 
 
 These notions, springing warmly from within 
 
 By their compendious logic, must be true. 
 
 Thus nurtured, thus inclined ; these busy wits
 
 78 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 (To the world's cost, as now it woeful feels) 
 
 Of late their super-quackish views have turn'd 
 
 To a Regeneration, root-and-branch, 
 
 Of all old politics ; squared, trimm'd, and pared 
 
 To their own darling patterns, and so set 
 
 On bases sure, that time and mortal force 
 
 May batter them in vain. " Yes, since our sires" 
 
 (So 'tis alleged), " were fools ; saw nothing right; 
 
 " Did nothing fit, were ignorance itself, 
 
 " As touching Nature's true coactive powers, 
 
 " Their use and aim ; what their's the patriot task 
 
 " But full destruction of all former creeds, 
 
 11 Rites, customs, practices, opinions, laws, 
 
 " And a fresh code to 'stablish in their stead ? 
 
 " No matter who gainsay ; down ev'ry throat 
 
 " Must go th' intended beverage. We trust 
 
 " 'Tis for their good ; and, what we like as well, 
 
 " 'Twill much administer to otir repose. 
 
 " Nor shall we brook delay. Our projects pine 
 
 ** As waste th' inglorious hours. Active hands 
 
 " (When once all's ripe, and meanings are unveil'd)
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 79 
 
 " Are as their soul ; and on the knife forth drawn 
 
 11 For needful amputation, no weak fears 
 
 " Should hang to check its aim. Hence, whatsoe'er 
 
 u Obstructs the instant deed must instant fall 
 
 " A sacrifice to the offended power 
 
 " Which has our vows. And, by that power, we 
 
 swear 
 M Destruction to all hierarchies and thrones 
 ** That now enslave the earth." In this bold sort 
 Some rave, and teach, and preach, perchance 
 
 may pray, 
 But thus far happily, in these glad isles, 
 Without the wish'd effect. The nation's bulk 
 See the perversion, and its woeful fruits 
 In their true form, and shudder at the sight ; 
 Have heads, their sophistry can never touch ; 
 Have hearts, their blandishments can never win, 
 And wit to learn, not only when they're well, 
 But that true knowledge of the human heart, 
 Its failings and their cure, must spring, alas ! 
 From other founts than those which chiefly yield
 
 80 THE BUBAL SABBATH. 
 
 Misleading pride ; that Rebel in all tongues 
 Is a base name, by all good men abhorr'd 
 Howe'er 'tis tinsel'd o'er; that Loyalty 
 Is genuine virtue, morally conceived, 
 Back'd with the signature of Holy Writ ; 
 Which in our ever)' deed, and every thought, 
 Prescribes forbearance, gentleness, and peace, 
 As leading objects; while it strict enjoins 
 Honour to kings ; obedience to the laws, 
 As much for sake of conscience as from fear. 
 
 And may fair laurels ever deck their brows 
 Whose well-timed eloquence, and active zeal 
 Assisted to allay the present pest 
 Of daring sophistry ; with other aims 
 Pour'd through the land, than vaunted love of truth, 
 The Rights of Man, and tranquil social joys ! 
 
 But more to check this innovating rage 
 Than keenest words, were they to burning fall 
 From some prophetic lip (or his, scarce less,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 81 
 
 Who sounded to the world in matchless terms 
 
 Its folly and its fate) a neighbouring realm 
 
 Now gives sad instance ; where to th' utmost 
 
 ' stretch 
 These visionary theories have been tried 
 And found, alas ! fatal beyond the worst 
 That Caution's self could fear, or Fancy feign. 
 There see, with wanton haste, as if in sport, 
 All laws and ancient customs swept away j 
 Justice despised ; security no more ; 
 Distinctions levell'd ; property annull'd ; 
 A Monarch murder'd ;* and, throughout the land, 
 Trust, and good faith, become as empty names ; 
 Religion treated with such studied scorn, 
 They scarce will own a God ; while every art 
 To spread the vile infection o'er the earth 
 Is active used ; and each endearing tie, 
 That should hold man to man, broken, as if 
 
 * This was inserted in the summer of 1793, and alludes to 
 the then situation of public affairs.
 
 82 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 To spite that Heaven, which cannot unchastised 
 See such Satanic speculations bring 
 On human nature that excessive woe, 
 That want, that profligacy, that vile hate ; 
 Those murders, massacres, heart-rending fears, 
 And all the untold aggregate of ill, 
 For which it now becomes, to all around 
 (Justly, if e'er Heaven's justice we could trace) 
 A warning spectacle, of such dread form, 
 That all who feel for violated Rights, 
 For Virtue and Religion, must peruse 
 The lesson it unfolds with scarlet cheeks 
 Through shame and indignation. And, behold, 
 That shame and indignation have aroused 
 Th' insulted world, in fitting league to drive 
 The baneful pest back to the infernal shades 
 From whence, in evil hour, it first was drawn. 
 And, who that feels for liberty, sound truth, 
 Or aught that's seemly, but must say, God speed ! 
 And fervent wish their zeal may haply prove
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 83 
 
 Fit instrument to bring on such vile guilt 
 
 The wrath corrective that seems now gone forth.* 
 
 ' Then ye, whose duty 'tis in youthful minds, 
 Docile and apt, to fix, for after life, 
 Each principle of conduct, fitly framed 
 To aid and cheer its ever-changing scenes ; 
 Who know the worth of our impartial laws, 
 Built on experience, long and fully tried, 
 Nor less to be revered for ancient date 
 Than for true wisdom, and the countless strifes 
 Through which they were achieved ; who see 
 
 around 
 Real Freedom's blessings smiling like our meads 
 With charms unrivall'd, and the lot of all 
 
 * Alas ! how little are mankind enabled to enter into the 
 Divine councils ! The aims of this seemingly well-intended 
 confederacy have failed, and Europe is still suffering under the 
 most direful and awakening calamities of strife and war. This 
 is perhaps felt in part : and may the chastisement soon be fol- 
 lowed with the full contrition of heart, and amendment of life, 
 which these calamities are doubtless intended ultimately to 
 produce! Jan. I800.
 
 84 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Who breathe their air; who see this lovely 
 
 group, 
 Led by a Sovereign, in whose bosom meet 
 Such pious grace, such moral virtue, join'd 
 With every native energy which springs 
 From love parental, that their union rare, 
 Back on the diadem more lustre throws 
 Than issues from its gems ; who see these gifts 
 In full fruition ; and our complex scheme 
 Of envied polity, not within itself 
 Better adapted to correct its faults 
 Than fitted, at due seasons, to receive 
 Each wish'd amendment; ye who witness too 
 Unprincipled discourse ; unstable minds ; 
 Seditious views, and innovating pride, 
 As what alone these highly favour* d isles 
 Have cause to fear; ye teachers who know this, 
 And love your country with a genuine zeal, 
 Oh! ne'er forget, amid the virtues fair, 
 Which grace our nature, and peculiar bloom 
 On British soil, that Loyalty is one,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 85 
 
 Which, whatso'er Philosophy may teach, 
 Should never, never quit the patriot breast. 
 
 Is this too much digressive? Does the song 
 Neglect its stated aim ? A moral Muse, 
 That feels for human wrongs, must surely feel, 
 In these licentious times, how fit it is 
 Due censure should be thrown from every lip 
 On daring projects, principles and guilt, 
 Whose deep enormities, and novel forms, 
 Alike astonish and offend mankind. 
 Blameless, she then presumes her ethic strain 
 A while delaying to recount, that still, 
 Something to soil whate'er we lovely call, 
 This scene of things permits ; that, like the good 
 By polity held out, our sacred day 
 Has its debasements. For, behold ! too nigh, 
 A train of truant youth, full-aptly form'd, 
 With boisterous revelry, to discompose 
 Its tranquil joys ; nor spared the oath profane. 
 With skuffling might, some toss the bounding ball :
 
 85 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Or gambling rave in noisy harsh disputes; 
 Or with rude scoffs insult the better bred 
 That pass them by. But haply ev'ry one 
 Is not thus idly bent. Far more enjoy 
 Their leisure as beseems them, in calm scenes 
 Which sooth at once, and recreate the mind. 
 And some there ever are whose ardent love 
 Of literary arts, and the fair fame 
 Which dignifies their eminent display, 
 Who, quitting noisy haunts, find highest bliss 
 In paths sequester'd, and where thought at large 
 May freely wander, sure its slightest traits 
 Will meet due notice from a kindred breast. 
 And these are pupils of the neighbouring school 
 Of classic erudition, where each morn, 
 Brisk as the sun, and early as his ray, 
 They studiously repair ; and now are met, 
 Free from the world's intrusion, to discourse *- 
 On various themes their literate cares demand. 
 
 Eut still, though toil and studious days and nights
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 87" 
 
 Must ever wait on learning's brightest aid, 
 To meet success, the task appalls them not. 
 Their spirit rises as the hill ascends 
 Of generous emulation and reward : 
 And, the bright summit in their ardent eye, 
 They, mutual in their aims, with mutual cheers, 
 Mount up it undismay'd. Such zeal still shines 
 Where genius genuine, and the love of arts 
 Inspire the youthful mind ! And now they talk 
 Of ancient days, and bards of high renown ; 
 Castalia's silver streams ; the warbling fount 
 Of sacred Hippocrcne, along whose banks 
 The tuneful Muses ever love to stray : 
 Or, of immortal sages who have trod 
 Lyceums piny walks, or the green verge 
 Of Academus, and from thence have soar'd 
 Heights empyreal with unwearied wing. 
 
 Thus they would talk, and from these rapturous 
 terms 
 (As yet, perhaps, scarce with due meaning fraught)
 
 88 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Catch inspiration ; in its dreams behold 
 
 Scenes heavenly fair, and more than mortal soil 
 
 Can e'er produce. But such is Fancy's sway ; 
 
 Such the illusions nature fondly forms 
 
 To cheer our steps and animate the toils, 
 
 Aim'd to enlarge and grace our mental power* 
 
 In mental efforts that the best adorn. 
 
 The vain, or selfish feelings she disdains 
 
 As stimulants. But in the generous love 
 
 Of excellence itself; the vision indistinct 
 
 Of unknown good, and possible renown, 
 
 Which wanders in their minds, she places all 
 
 Her power to lead them on ; save that rare gift, 
 
 More sacred still, and of appropriate sway, 
 
 The love of knowledge for its own fair form. 
 
 Oh ! how this object warms their labouring thoughts, 
 
 And wraps them in Elysium ; sooths and calms 
 
 The heart perturb'd ! Be languages their aim ; 
 
 The liberal arts; the various truths which shine 
 
 In abstract Science ; History's wide tome, 
 
 Or the unbounded province of research
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 89 
 
 Philosophy assumes ; or, higher yet, 
 What fair Religion on the eye of Faith 
 Benignly pours ; they duteous still revere 
 Instruction's page. Hence words, as meaning things, 
 Acquire their charms. But most, when dulcet tuned 
 To the innumerable notes which form 
 The world's harmonious system, they arouse 
 Accordant thoughts; and, chiming through its range 
 Of countless orbs, symphonious touch the ear. 
 Hence letters first attract the opening mind 
 Whate'er its after bent; and hence the worth, 
 And rise of village schools; hence Nature, too, 
 Still more to win regard, bids wisdom join 
 Her heavenly dictates to the Muse's lyre. 
 
 How sweet the rising morn on Health's glad eye 
 Unveils her varied beauties, hid ere while 
 In shades of night, or but obscurely seen 
 From stars faint glimmering ! Hill, and dale, 
 And stream, and cot, and fane, in golden day 
 Beam lovely; and the quicken'd spirit feels
 
 50 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Unusual ardour, as the restless foot 
 
 Along the dewy pathways of the meads, 
 
 Or on the mountain-tops, wanders at large 
 
 With light unfailing step. Yet still more sweet 
 
 On th' enquiring mind, studiously prone, 
 
 Fair Learning opes her long-extended roll 
 
 Of heavenly truth ; whether immediate beam'd 
 
 From the pure Fount of Grace, or seen reflex 
 
 Adorn these lower energies of things ; 
 
 Where, round the theories deep, by Science form'd, 
 
 And Nature's endless and more obvious laws, 
 
 Imagination chaste, oft soothing spreads 
 
 Her lighter graces; till th' exploring soul, 
 
 Id transport lost, through all the tow'ring flights 
 
 And humbler stoopings of her onward way, 
 
 Scarce feels th' oppression of a wearied wing. 
 
 But sweeter far, and of much dearer aim 
 
 (And what should still be present to the mind 
 
 Where happy feelings, and religious hopes 
 
 Claim due regard), are the pure joys inspired. 
 
 When Piety with Literature and Arts
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 91 
 
 Meet in fair union, and the God adore 
 
 From whence we are, and all these spacious scenes 
 
 Of wonder and of might ; when all that charms 
 
 In Science, or in Nature's studious rounds; 
 
 Wisdom of ends, or artifice of means ; 
 
 Goodness, or power, not only charms the taste 
 
 Of curious intellect, but fills the soul 
 
 With gratitude and love, no words can speak 
 
 No heart estranged conceive. 'Tis then we find 
 
 All we behold in Beauty's fair domain, 
 
 All we achieve in Learning's flowery paths, 
 
 A book, where some instructive item shines 
 
 In value rich, which dies not in the grave, 
 
 But, of immortal growth, will form a part 
 
 Of Heaven's illustrious lore ; while, with our God, 
 
 These loved enquiries, in their progress, form 
 
 A medium of communion; silent strains 
 
 Of praise and prayer, of efficacy high, 
 
 Which ne'er by Virtue are indulged in vain. 
 
 'Tis then Retirement yields her fairest fruits; 
 
 (And owns, as one, the Sabbath we display ;)
 
 92 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Affections gently exercised, not torn, 
 
 Nor warp'd by too much struggling with the world ; 
 
 Calm Contemplation, grateful for the joys 
 
 She now partakes, and happy in the hope 
 
 Of others in reversion, which will soon 
 
 Give to true Piety its full reward, 
 
 And heal all sorrows of this frail abode. 
 
 Sorrows, alas ! all earthly scenes are doom'd 
 Frequent to feel; and, like the day of life, 
 Our fleeting Sabbath type is not exempt 
 From its disasters. A meek lovely maid 
 Who late this vale adorn'd, in youthful prime. 
 And beauty's softest bloom, now lies in death, 
 And waits the last sad office from her friends 
 Of rites sepulchral. A dire disease, 
 Which baffled all the arts of human skill, 
 Assail'd her strength, and gradual, as by stealth, 
 Destroy 'd her vernal bloom ; nor ceased the strife 
 But when at length her vital powers gave way. 
 Lovely she was, and equally beloved ;
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 93 
 
 The friend and dearest favourite of her sex ; 
 
 And patiently she bore her ling' ring fate. 
 
 Tall was her perfect shape ; and as she trod 
 
 The gentlest graces dignified her mien 
 
 And beauteous was the flow of glossy hair 
 
 Which down the ivory slopings of her neck 
 
 In wreaths redundant fell. But in her face, 
 
 United all the modest virtues spoke. 
 
 Palely diffused, the bloom of youth adorn'd 
 
 Her polish'd cheek ; while the soft lambent eye, 
 
 Beaming with mild and affable regard, 
 
 Ne'er seem'd to know how fair, how very fair, 
 
 The comely features which its rays illumed. 
 
 But they are gone ! As fade the flowers of spring 
 
 Her beauties wither'd, and her passing bier 
 
 Can only now receive a last adieu. 
 
 And, hark ! the bell begins its solemn toll, 
 
 To shew at hand the slowly-moving train 
 
 Of sorrowing friends. And see, they near approach 
 
 The cell of sacred earth, where weary man 
 
 Must find his last repose. In snowy robes,
 
 94 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 The maids, her dear companions, bear, in turns, 
 Her hapless loved remains ; and every eye 
 That fond affection draws around the scene 
 Partakes the heart-felt grief. And now the dirge, 
 In soft, yet mournful tones, with pauses due, 
 Attends the solemn movement ; lends its aid, 
 Its tuneful sighs, to decorate and sooth 
 The sad occasion. Yes, sweet, though touching, 
 In sorrow's ear fall these accustomed notes, 
 Nor powerless to the distant groves proceeds 
 The cadence of their strain . Forlorn and sad, 
 As conscious of the loss, they, sighing, seem 
 To hang their drooping heads, and take a part 
 In social woe and sympathy so dear. 
 
 Now decent rests the corpse, amid the aisle 
 Appropriate to the use, and apt are join'd 
 The stated ritual of evening prayer 
 And this interment. Kneeling all around 
 The loved lamented maid, in deep distress, 
 Behold her dearest friends renew their tears,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 95 
 
 And every eye turn'd on the mournful scene ! 
 
 O ! how reflection now absorbs the mind, 
 
 And brings its objects home. This stroke of death ; 
 
 Th' immediate awful presence of their God ; 
 
 His heavenly word republish'd, which unfolds 
 
 Man's erring frailty, and the destined pangs 
 
 Which all must suffer, ere this earthly frame 
 
 Can put on incorruption, melts the soul, 
 
 And, for the time, our changeful nature shines 
 
 In loveliest semblance. All vain follies fled; 
 
 All enmities forgot ; and every tie 
 
 Of kindred love close drawn ; meek, penitent, 
 
 Subdued, and fill'd with fear, what willing aid, 
 
 In the kind offices the scene demands, 
 
 Is lent by all ! How do they ardent wish 
 
 Twere in their power to mitigate the grief 
 
 That wounds the nearest friends ! How fondly muse, 
 
 That could the lovely maid again return, 
 
 What dear regards perhaps too much o'erlook'd 
 
 Should shew their fervid love. Then ether thoughts 
 
 Engage the mind perturb 'd. Through the long range
 
 $6 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Of ancestry, or nearer friends, consign'd 
 To the oblivious grave, they sadly turn, 
 And meditate how soon themselves may lie 
 The breathless tenants of the neighbouring clay. 
 
 And now, dear hapless fair, one kindness more 
 Conveys thee to the precincts of the grave, 
 Thy long and peaceful home. See, 'tis at hand; 
 And see 'tis deck'd with flowers, which fancy fond 
 And warm affection have profusely thrown 
 As tokens of their love, and emblems pure 
 Of thy sweet innocence, and early fate. 
 Instant, once more, the gushing tears proclaim 
 New heart-felt sorrow, at the final scene. 
 It is a last farewell ; and every eye 
 Is watchful to observe, when, dropping through 
 The verdant verge, with flowery wreaths adorn'd, 
 The lovely corpse for ever disappears. 
 Deep strikes the thought, a last, a long adieu, 
 And deeper still the solemn sounding cords, 
 And Earth to earth, pronounce the sad farewell.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 97 
 
 Yes, fare thee well, sweet maid ! Amelia fair, 
 Let us not part but uttering the glad hope 
 Which sooths all earthly sorrow ; rest assured 
 Ere long in other climes, where pain and death 
 Can never come, thy patient innocence 
 Will safely land thee, and thy sufferings crown 
 With blooming wreaths cf never-ending joy.
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 BOOK IV.
 
 [ ioi ] 
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 ISad is the vale! Yet still the needful cares 
 
 And solaces of life will interdict 
 
 Its long continuance ; save with the few 
 
 The more immediate mourners. Gradual, hence, 
 
 The spirits of the breast, its lively hopes 
 
 (And, were they not, the constant fear of death 
 
 Would damp all due exertion), flow again 
 
 And paint their cheerful scenes; renew their joys. 
 
 And now the evening visitings recur 
 Of friendly intercourse, and social chat,
 
 102 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Enliven' d with the elegant regale 
 
 Of much-loved temperate tea. Some traits, indeed, 
 
 Of cast censorious ; enmity long felt, 
 
 Or sordid grovTing after worldly pelf, 
 
 May mingle with the virtues of the vale, 
 
 And their fair lustre dim. Yet, in these scenes, 
 
 Compared with city noise, and glare, and strife, 
 
 How very bless'd the tranquil Sabbath glides ! 
 
 How free from strong temptation's varied smiles, 
 
 And the too cumberous pressure of the world ! 
 
 How fill'd with gentle thoughts, that gladly seek 
 
 A hallow'd intercourse with Truth Divine ; 
 
 Where Reason's noblest powers, soar as they may, 
 
 Alone can heart-felt satisfaction find ; 
 
 Reap full reward, and the possessor bless ; 
 
 Where, by degrees, the soft'ning soul combines 
 
 Her slightest, as her more important cares, 
 
 With Piety and Love. Yet happier still 
 
 (Where happiness is noted by the good 
 
 It has the means to minister) is he, 
 
 The reverend Pastor of this docile flock,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 103 
 
 When wisdom's lore, and pious feelings join, 
 In earnest join, due nurture to prepare, 
 And safe conduct them to their heavenly fold. 
 From office honour'd ; full and deeply felt 
 The vanity of life's most glittering toys; 
 Conscious of fit accomplishments to win, 
 To sooth, to soften, and to hold in awe, 
 As circumstances ask, his wandering charge ; 
 How happy might his days pass to their close 
 In filling up with zeal his sacred trust ! 
 How happy, with each social glow at heart, 
 Joy in their joy, participate their griefs, 
 And, with religious energy and love, 
 Give their fair Sabbath every power to charm. 
 
 /Of the depraved alloy, which, Proteus like, 
 
 In our frail nature wears so many shapes, 
 
 And prompts so many deeds that blot with clouds 
 
 The sunshine of our peace, a portion here 
 
 Of the pragmatic cast, which nought can please, 
 
 Nor aught convince j and which for ever views
 
 104 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 This mingled scene of things with captious eye, 
 
 And smirk of cynic outline ; slily asks 
 
 (While as the taunting query ne'er o'erlooks 
 
 Th' implied negative) if one and all 
 
 Who hold the pastoral charge, so smooth above 
 
 Through courtesy be-dittied, are real saints, 
 
 Act as they should, and verify the lay : 
 
 If, of their sacred character aware, 
 
 Its duties, and the hill on which is placed 
 
 Their Heaven-enlighten' d candle, all perform 
 
 The holy trust their ministry includes, 
 
 With meet attention ; heart as well as lip, 
 
 Nor swerve from due decorum ? Scorning alike 
 
 The prejudiced contemnor, and the use 
 
 Folly may of the fair concession make, 
 
 We answer, No : The priesthood is not free 
 
 From blame and frailty. Form'd like other men, 
 
 Its members may, at times, from foes incur 
 
 A due reproving stricture, and like all 
 
 Their fellow-mortals, stand too oft in need 
 
 Of Heaven's extended mercy, to o'erlook
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 105 
 
 A casual dereliction. But, what then ? 
 
 Does this destroy their service ? Takes it aught 
 
 From their official honour ? Make them less 
 
 Th' ambassadors of God ? Invalidate 
 
 Their usual functions, orderly perform'd ? 
 
 Or (what, perhaps, some may absurdly hope, 
 
 Will really prove the case) does it afford 
 
 The layman, or less learned, a fit pretence 
 
 To imitate their failings ; shuffle o'er 
 
 And slight a well-known duty, as if he 
 
 Were safe from justice, while there meets his eye 
 
 A priest as frail and heedless as himself, f 
 
 The times have still their signs, and our's are 
 mark'd 
 With manners and opinions which below 
 All pardonable licence would degrade 
 The priesthood and their charge. Not only when 
 Their presence should excite a due reserve, 
 The jest obscene and ribaldry of fools 
 Flow from the shameless tongue, but they incur
 
 io6 
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Dislike, as it should seem, because 'tis felt 
 Their name and holy office bring to mind 
 Virtues transgress'd, and follies of such sort, 
 As conscience cannot, with inviting ease, 
 Contemplate and retrace. When such the times ; 
 When reverence for the messengers of Heaven 
 In ev'ry rank abates, and mockery oft 
 Misdeems their sacred functions, how should they, 
 In numbers few ; in worldly power but weak ; 
 In character traduced ; of zealous friends 
 Daily bereft, and seldom led to think 
 Their converse in domestic hours would yield 
 A wish'd-for pleasure; how should they, thus 
 
 view'd, 
 Themselves and Heaven's fair oracles defend 
 With grating truths ? How, with unwelcome calls 
 To penitence and grace, be heard aright, 
 And win the alien breast ? Talk as we may, 
 The clergy less have power to mould the times 
 Than the times, them. Their little slighted bark, 
 Borne on the stream of things, though ruled by Him
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 107 
 
 Who can command the waves, and has assured 
 
 Its passage safe o'er every boisterous surge, 
 
 Still with the current must in part glide on, 
 
 And take its course. And were the Order led 
 
 By cordial smiles and symptoms of esteem 
 
 To due exertion in their holy cares, 
 
 'Twould soon be found such smiles, as well as zeal, 
 
 Contain incitement that would re-produce 
 
 Deportment truly fitted to adorn 
 
 And dignify their cause ; give to the place 
 
 And character they hold, that lustre fair 
 
 They ever ask and ever will obtain 
 
 Where Christian virtues meet a due regard. ) 
 
 And deeply in the mind this single sign 
 Of our degeneracy should sink, where'er 
 The patriot passion reigns. And surely much 
 It all concerns, forthwith to see begun 
 Fit reformation of a growing ill, 
 Which, if neglected, in its progress, may, 
 Combined with kindred swervings, quickly bring
 
 108 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 A chastisement most grievous on a land 
 
 Too vain to think ; too headstrong to be wise ; 
 
 Too wealthy and luxurious to be good. 
 
 For old experience shews (were not the crimes 
 
 Which now a neighbouring nation damn to fame 
 
 Enormous as their growth, too sad a proof), 
 
 That, once the guardians of the Church despised, 
 
 Not only pure Religion must decline, 
 
 But all that's moral, all that's fair and just, 
 
 Will catch the taint ; lead on to countless ills ; 
 
 And the irreverent folly, as one curse, 
 
 Bode and forerun the ruin of the State. 
 
 Opposed to this acerbity of mind, 
 Cannot the Muse more pleasingly conceive 
 A group of pious friends, intent to scan 
 Some theme of sacred import, seated where 
 Was sipp'd their late regale ; be it the neat 
 And lightsome finish' d parlour, or the cool 
 Umbrageous grot, that fronts the neighbouring vale ; 
 Among whose meads a softly murmuring stream,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 109 
 
 Through pebbly dells, pursues its winding way ? 
 
 And cannot Fancy see, for long, long hours, 
 
 Youth, and e'en Beauty, willingly forego 
 
 All other joys to listen to the strains 
 
 They pour alternate on each topic high ? 
 
 Strains heavenly sweet, as tuned to heavenly hopes ; 
 
 Learned, rational, and from the heart effused ! 
 
 By education, as by temper, led 
 To thoughts chastised and pure, 'tis theirs to shun 
 Alike the wiles of pleasure and the pride 
 That to our scanty reason levels all 
 The heights and depths of things. Placid ; humane ; 
 Addicted to soft scenes, and tranquil joys, 
 And virtuous letters, and ingenuous arts ; 
 Believing, hoping, happier realms in view, 
 The world sits easy on them, and its charms 
 Still wear an aspect powerful to awake 
 High strains of grateful fervour. As within 
 They feel content and peace, so all without 
 Seems as it should ; a checquer'd scene, indeed,
 
 110 THE RURAL SABBATn. 
 
 Replete with cares; but such as Christian hope 
 Will ever lighten, till Probation's path 
 Closes its casual ruggedness, and shades 
 In all that's good and fair. With gifts like these 
 Abundantly endow'd, well may their words 
 Rise potent with the subject, and secure 
 From all unfeign'd attention. And, this known, 
 Cannot quick Fancy yet the lovely scene 
 Adumbrate in due tints ; impassion all 
 The shadowy group, and wake them into life ? 
 Yes, this, and more, she can achieve* can catch 
 Their glowing accents ; hear them rapturous tell 
 Of future things ; to human weal of worth 
 Beyond compare: the mercy ever shewn 
 To our frail nature, as the lapse of time 
 Progressive on its copious page devolved, 
 Not more replete with Wonder than with Love. 
 
 How the Almighty Primal Cause (whose 
 power 
 Can instant give existence to whate'er
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. Ill 
 
 His boundless intellect beholds display'd 
 In forms ideal) with intent benign 
 His favourite Man first fashion'd ; gave his eye 
 To range this goodly orb, his powers to taste 
 The various founts of rational delight 
 His happy Eden, and his happier mind 
 Might hourly yield him ; and assured the bliss 
 Endless in date, if but obedience due 
 Follow'd his mild commands. Hoxv t to secure 
 And stablish this fair hope, as face to face, 
 Through bright undoubted signs of heavenly form 
 He thence vouchsafed more fully to make known 
 His Will Divine ; unfold what he deem'd meet 
 Of his eternal councils, other realms, 
 And other times ; more powerful to induce 
 Mortals, like us, to think and live aright. 
 A gracious Intercourse ! The Soul of Hope ! 
 And Faith's bright Sun, still needful to illume 
 Our Reason's glimmering sphere; where, though 
 
 wide spread 
 Its many sparklings range in beauteous sheen
 
 112 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 In things divine, alas ! their power, full oft, 
 
 Strives ineffectual to dispel the shades 
 
 That shroud their darksome confines. How from 
 
 thence, 
 (So ran the dulcet strains that Fancy heard) 
 Onward, at seasons meet, in terms express 
 Of vision or of dream, the Heavenly Will 
 To patriarchal sages was convey'd ; 
 Still sedulous (as still of urgent need 
 While threat'ning sin) apostate views to check, 
 Announce the One True God, and issue forth 
 The terrors and the glory of his Name. 
 
 How, when our swerving parents hapless fell 
 From their first rectitude ; and, as forewarn'd, 
 " Brought Death into the world and all our woe," 
 The little rill prophetic which then rose 
 In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life, 
 Proclaiming darkly our Redeemer's might 
 And gracious mission to these regions frail 
 On man's behalf, how it in larger streams,
 
 THE RURAL SAKBATH. 11' 
 
 And brighter oracles, progressive roll'd 
 
 O'er many a wayward age ; till, all complete, 
 
 Arose, at length, " the day-spring from on high" 
 
 With healing in his wings to visit earth : 
 
 When, with the tidings of immortal life, 
 
 And constant intercession with our God 
 
 For pardon and for peace, he gladden'd 
 
 His faithful followers ; redeem'd lost man ; 
 
 And, after having triumph'd o'er the grave, 
 
 In glory reassumed his native skies. 
 
 Nor yet has been accomplish'd every term 
 The mystic roll of Prophecy displays. 
 (So onward ran the strain.) Its mingled traits 
 And gleaming signatures of awful truth 
 In various forms advert to scenes and times 
 Still future ; and which, when fulfill'd, must oft 
 Arrest the Sage's eye, and touch his mind 
 With deep and holy musings ; who, amid 
 Its radiant rounds ; its tints of changeful hue ; 
 Its placid smiles, and dread avenging threats, 
 I
 
 114 THE RURAL SABEATH, 
 
 Will ever see a predetermined aim 
 To one superior end ; one central point ; 
 Messiah's kingdom and its endless joy. 
 Tis thus the Northern Lights (so named) still meet 
 A serious eye uprear'd to view their streams 
 So wond'rous, and so versatile in form. 
 Now gently lambent, glide the silent train 
 Along the blue serene ; then from dark clouds 
 In brighter streaks they spring, and with such power 
 That Fancy needs will hear their angry sweeps 
 Smite the still ether : Then, as causes lead, 
 Surrounding half the heavens with curtain pale, 
 Or tinge of crimson deep, in many a breast 
 They raise unusual dread ; while every shoot 
 (Where'er their horizontal bases) still 
 With steady aim mounts up towards its pole 
 The cloudless zenith of the meteory sky. 
 
 Next (Fancy so recounts) the growing strain 
 Would trace the strong co-operating proof 
 Of Heaven's all-seeing care,' and lasting view
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 115 
 
 To fix mail's stedfast faith, living and fraught 
 With deeds accordant; the august display 
 Of instant miracles ; which, through the means 
 Of some high-favour'd patriarch, or sage, 
 Controll'd the frame of Nature. But far most 
 When the Messiah did himself announce 
 The presence of a God, and dire disease 
 Fled at his touch ; the dead immediate rose ; 
 The elements ran counter to their bent, 
 And, at his bidding, the eternal hills, 
 E'en earth itself, through all their limits shook. 
 Scenes which the most obdurate breast would move 
 To thoughts most awful ; but, where feeling dwelt, 
 Would strain each trembling nerve to all our powers 
 Susceptive, or inquisitive could bear. 
 
 1 Then would the converse rapturously display 
 What for our sakes the Saviour of the world 
 Perform'd and suffer'd ; the transcendant love 
 And pity, which for frail and sinful man 
 Could give his life a ransom, (lost with pain
 
 116 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 And buffetings extreme), and on himself, 
 
 When meek repentance sued, take ev'ry crime, 
 
 And to his Father's Throne, blameless present 
 
 The purchased suppliant ; That celestial Throne 
 
 (Not more with splendor than with mercy crown'd), 
 
 Where he, as faithful High-priest, ever lives 
 
 Our ardent Intercessor, and from whence 
 
 Goes forth the Holy Spirit, pre-ordain'd 
 
 To lead us to all truth ; inspire the tome 
 
 Of gospel purity and saving faith 
 
 Now perfected, and openly display'd 
 
 To all who seek and venerate his Name. , 
 
 Nor in the grateful theme were overlook'd 
 (Though how inferior still their generous toils 
 To the high argument !) the lengthen'd train 
 And host of worthies, who, for fellow men, 
 E'en with the martyr's zeal, strove to illume 
 And recommend this Volume ; urge its worth, 
 And win them to its favours. Teachers sage, 
 And holy Saints, whose learned toils not more
 
 THE RUKAL SABEATII. 117 
 
 Evince their inward sanctity of heart, 
 Than depth of intellect; where reason, truth, 
 Persuasion, each ingenuous aid of skill 
 In fairest union meet to manifest 
 The whole oeconomy of saving grace 
 Worthy of Him who gave such beauteous form 
 To whate'er else we contemplate as parts 
 Of this fair system. Then, the thesis changed, 
 The venerable group would for a while 
 Expatiate free on man's capricious will, 
 (The dread misleader of his brightest powers,) 
 JIow prone to censure ; how, at seasons, urged 
 By sheer perverseness to oppose whate'er 
 Gains credence with the many ; while, full oft, 
 The habit, like Infection's subtle taint, 
 *E'er he's aware, contaminates his faith. 
 How then 'twill see (for hyper-sceptic eyes 
 Are quick as nice) some attribute supreme 
 Of our Great Author, thwart the current creed 
 Which makes him with attention so minute 
 Watch o'er our paths, and call for full belief 
 
 y 4M-
 
 118 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 In tenets mystic beyond Reason's power 
 
 Clearly to fathom ; hence, forsooth, conclude 
 
 At once, without one hesitating check, 
 
 'Tis palpably a sounding forth the praise 
 
 Of Heavenly Wisdom and its Sovereign Sway 
 
 (And in such god-like, worm-like imps as us 
 
 Shews fit humility) to scorn the book 
 
 That fills the world with these incongruous tales. 
 
 Thus, this proud meekness, this implicit trust 
 
 In self-conceit, not only may destroy 
 
 A saving Faith, but Common Sense abjure. 
 
 A sad and perilous bent! Sad, to forego 
 
 The thousand heart-felt soothings which belong 
 
 Appropriate to docility of mind 
 
 By Christian hopes led on ; and perilous, 
 
 Since self-sufficiency assigns to Chance, 
 
 (With adverse odds, alarming as they're plain,) 
 
 Their future fate ; which way the beam may turn 
 
 That to their frailties only has opposed 
 
 Their own vain merits, and the dubious hope 
 
 That truth has still their confidence inspired.
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 110. 
 
 But, what can cure the Sceptic ? wipe the film 
 From Prepossession's eye, and free the breast 
 From long-accustomed Pride, perhaps afraid 
 That breast, when naked, might too keenly feel 
 Some pangs our flesh is heir to? Not man's power, 
 Or else the cure were had. For all that Wit 
 And Wisdom can achieve, or Reason ask, 
 Or sharp and shifty Petulance demand, 
 Lies in his reach, and fitted to the end : 
 The Recipe but short : " With candid aim, 
 And serious care, peruse and be made whole." 
 
 O ! ye, who thus in your Redeemer's cause 
 Have stood forth zealous Champions ; spared no 
 
 toil, 
 No danger fear'd, to vindicate his Faith 
 From the Gainsayer's scorn ; how great must be 
 Your final recompence ! how high your joy 
 (Inferior only to what constant warms 
 The sainted Martyr) oft to recollect, 
 Amid angelic hosts of kindred zeal,
 
 120 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 'Twas your's, while here on earth, to dedicate, 
 Well-pleased, long studious labours, in support 
 Of Heaven's Revealed Will; co-active with 
 The views of Him, whose once-approving smiles 
 Contain, summ'd up, all blessings, all renown ! 
 What, if amid your conflicts, have escaped 
 Some terms of harshness ; warmth that better might 
 Have been subdued, such shade of mortal source 
 Annul not the fair purport, nor impair 
 The genuine lustre of th' attending truth, 
 The wrangler who on trivial points like these 
 Grounds his dissent, but little comprehends 
 What is in man, what various frailties here 
 Must try his Faith to win a Heavenly Crown. 
 
 Yet flows the pious strain, and Fancy still 
 Recounts its form and progress. The events 
 Of times already past faithful compared 
 With their prophetic signs (and those which now' 
 An inconsiderate world have cause to fear 
 The dread completion of some threat'ning page,
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 121 
 
 But slightly view'd) right on to future scenes, 
 
 Of import vast, the tuneful descant rolls ; 
 
 To those Millennian ages, when frail man, 
 
 Of his true dignity and good aware 
 
 (And deeply conscious of the vital power 
 
 To cleanse, to cheer, to charm, to elevate, 
 
 Which fair Religion evermore might boast), 
 
 Amply regains his paradise and peace, 
 
 And lives what Heaven design'd. When the whole 
 
 heart 
 Of Gentile and of Jew, with ardent zeal 
 To Christ is turn'd ; the one come fully in; 
 The other with unspeakable displays 
 Of penitence and joy again restored 
 To his long-wish'd-for Zion. When fallen, 
 Fallen, fallen, no more the bigot powers 
 Of Antichrist shall falsify God's word, 
 And chain the free-born soul; but sacred truth, 
 And conscious duty, leagued with candour fair, 
 Alone control opinion, and inspire 
 The meet and moral deed : When Satan bound
 
 122 THE ItUKAL SAEBATH. 
 
 Fast in th' infernal pit, no more attempts 
 
 (Till end the long, long limits of his doom) 
 
 With visions of apostate form to warp 
 
 Th' unstable mind, or in the paths of sin 
 
 To cheer the heedless wanderer ; and, the while, 
 
 Streams of prevenient grace unbounded flow 
 
 To purify and guide the docile heart ; 
 
 Check all perversion ; banish wild desire, 
 
 And baneful vanity ; and fix the eye, 
 
 Delighted, on the fair exhaustless page 
 
 Of Heaven-drawn Wisdom. When in presence real, 
 
 Or manifest in most conspicuous signs, 
 
 Not yet beheld of man, or fully felt, 
 
 Messiah shall peculiar, 'mid his saints, 
 
 Reign for a thousand years, and strife, and woe, 
 
 And sin, shall be no more ; but, in their stead, 
 
 Joys anallay'd, and harmony and love, 
 
 Shall bless all sentient being ; while around 
 
 Nature herself, through all her ample stores 
 
 Of renovated charms, genial and gay, 
 
 Proclaims the new-born Age. A glorious age !
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 123 
 
 And prelude meet to that still higher bliss 
 So soon to follow, and this vista close 
 Of temporary warfare ; and which all 
 Found faithful to their God assured shall share, 
 When Time in dread Eternity is lost. 
 
 A glorious age ! and happy surely they 
 Whom Heaven ordains to sojourn then on earth, 
 And see (as Salem then again to rise 
 With crystal battlements and golden towers 
 Resplendent as the sun, will far excel 
 Its ancient grandeur) see, each pious act, 
 Each deed of social intercourse, each form 
 Of fair creation, so supremely charm 
 That well may pious fervency shout forth 
 (And shout it will, in triumph, through the world) 
 " Salvation, Glory, and the Throne or 
 
 God 
 Now dwell with men." An age of wonder, too, 
 Great as the measure of its promised joys ; 
 And which, as it draws nigh, must rouse the mind
 
 124 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 With expectations powerful as they're new. 
 
 So the inhabitants (if such there be) 
 
 Of neighbouring Luna, whose long-customed homes 
 
 Fall central on the hemisphere remote, 
 
 When, curious, urged by popular renown 
 
 To climb the summits whence may first be seen 
 
 This earth's huge orb, for ever turning round 
 
 A wond'rous, varying face ; as they proceed, 
 
 Will feel their object in importance rise, 
 
 And more and more the ardent mind employ. 
 
 But here, recurring to the lapse of time, 
 And stated meet observances, at length, 
 The converse ends. A converse which these strains, 
 So much its matter, and so fair its form, 
 Can but in part suggest ; though Fancy's powers 
 (Active beyond the range of terms precise) 
 In shadowing to the mind its full display, 
 May better speed. And now the glowing heart 
 In every eye sits lambent, glist'ning around 
 Ineffable delight ; and with new charms
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 125 
 
 And higher social fervency awakes 
 
 Each amity of life. And, trust the Muse, 
 
 It is a beam of rapture that again, 
 
 When this mortality is fresh attired 
 
 In fair immortal features, will convey 
 
 Joy to the joyful, and with power diffuse 
 
 Its living lustre through the realms of Heaven. 
 
 Heaven ! what a word ! How forcibly it strikes 
 The due awaken'd mind ! How great, and yet, 
 How hazardous its prize ! How near at hand 
 The awful day that must the lot decide, 
 No more to be reversed. Then deep, and long, 
 And with the truest earnestness prepared. 
 Here pause reflection ; and while mere self-ends 
 And bounden duty urge us to obtain 
 This prize of our high-calling, let us feel 
 More generous motives ; view this scene of things, 
 This wonderful display of power benign, 
 All that we are, and know, sustain, and do, 
 Or hope, or fear, as lower destined parts
 
 126 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Of preparation, circumstance, and means 
 
 Of such Salvation ; uttering, hence, aloud 
 
 A warning voice, that should to th' inmost shake 
 
 Probation's ear, and rouse to heavenly cares 
 
 Each anxious thought and energy of man. 
 
 But topics thus momentous, and replete 
 With various argument, appal the Muse, 
 And check her drooping powers. Enough for her 
 She deems it now, when in each laureate grove 
 Crouds of admirers prosperous court the smiles 
 Of fair Urania, and in accents sweet 
 Devolve their hallow'd lays -enough for her, 
 That to adorn one district of the scene 
 She lent her tuneful aid, and, willing, form'd 
 Her Sabbath Song in meek Religion's cause. 
 
 Then, thou endearing Earth, to thy well-known 
 And mildly verdant groves, and soothing haunts, 
 Let me again direct a dazzled eye. 
 On thy soft mossy couch a weary frame
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 327 
 
 A little longer triflingly recline. 
 
 So Nature bids; and to her just behests 
 
 Tis fit we yield. As thy attractive orb 
 
 Will not allow whate'er is from it thrown 
 
 Far to recede, but soon with equal force 
 
 Brings back th' ascending missile; so, we find, 
 
 Our loftiest thoughts, soar as they may, can't long 
 
 Maintain their flight; but to th' alluring scenes 
 
 Of thy loved precincts speedily return 
 
 For meet repose, and objects better framed 
 
 For fond endearment. Hence, the devious Muse, 
 
 Now near her goal, stoops from her low'ring height 
 
 To touch on humbler themes, and gently close 
 
 This warbling effort of her sylvan lyre. 
 
 Now springs the temperate breeze,as day declines, 
 And rustling fans the groves, or skims the pools, 
 With cheering freshness. Broad the shadows spread. 
 And homeward to their airy citadel 
 The clamorous rooks repair; deaf'ning, at times, 
 The blackbird's sonnet and the beetle's hum.
 
 128 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Forthwith again the villagers appear 
 Group'd various in the pathways, viewing round 
 Their grassy meads, and fields of waving grain, 
 Not unattcntive to the frequent calls 
 Of heart-felt gratitude, and what the day 
 Peculiar from true piety demands. 
 
 And now to those who shunn'd the noon-tide 
 beam 
 The social walk how pleasing! as it thus 
 With joy and health allures. But most it draws' 
 The happy, anxious votaries of love 
 To taste its beauties. Fill'd with liveliest hopes ; 
 Affections warm, and dreams of nuptial bliss, 
 Which spring instinctive in the youthful heart, 
 And ne'er have quiet till some object dear 
 Gives them their play, and to the highest flame 
 Fans all their fervours; they in pairs select 
 Through winding groves, or o'er the lawns remote, 
 Their lonely paths pursue ; bless'd to descry 
 (What ardent love still hoped, yet often fear'd)
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 129 
 
 A mutual flame each other's breast inspire. 
 
 'Tis done ; the happy secret has escaped 
 
 Its long concealment : Hence, then, dark distrust ! 
 
 Appalling doubts, and slow consuming sighs ! 
 
 The world has not a care. Each wandering wish 
 
 Finds its contented home. A calm of joy, 
 
 And soft affection, prompts at every call 
 
 To manifest regard, chastised and pure 
 
 As their unsullied virtues. Thus possess'd 
 
 Of all their heart holds dear ; so happy made 
 
 In schemes of future bliss, by Fancy deck'd 
 
 In every pleasing semblance that may win 
 
 Attention, or preserve ; how should the notes 
 
 Of the sweet nightly songster, which have now 
 
 Just risen on the groves, (and to the still, 
 
 Calm ear of Eve, their tuneful offerings brought,) 
 
 Claim partial audience ! how a care employ, 
 
 O'ercome with sounds far sweeter of their own! 
 
 And happy be the fair connubial scenes 
 
 These visions prelude, and whose heart-felt joys 
 
 Perhaps no blandishments of after-life 
 
 K
 
 130 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Can e'er surpass. But here our closing strain, 
 Leaves to suggestions of the youthful mind 
 How great their sum of bliss. And see the sun, 
 Whose lonely orb, while blazing from on high 
 Pass'd with slight note, now, stooping to the west, 
 Recalls observance, as his fiery beams, 
 Flaming through wreaths of deep-embattled clouds, 
 Up, o'er th' horizon's saffron-tinted zone, 
 In various forms, their golden lustre throw. 
 Eut ah ! all quick decays ! He veils his head 
 Amid the sable sky-form'd hills that seem 
 Rear'd o'er the glimmering main. And now the 
 
 shades 
 Of gathering night spread gradual all around, 
 And, thick'ning o'er each warm ethereal streak, 
 Soon wrap the world in gloom. Silence succeeds. 
 And downy rest ere long will seal each eye 
 In peaceful slumbers ; while the dusky brows 
 Of distant mountains gleam with wand'ring fires, 
 The active sportiveness of youth has form'd 
 To lengthen out the still too-fleeting day ;
 
 THE nUHAL SABBATH. 131 
 
 With trifles pleased, as yet they scarce regard 
 The splendour chaste and long accustom'd beams, 
 Shook from the silvery orb of Hesper fair, 
 Now left the beauteous regent of the sky. 
 
 So glides the Sabbath-Dai/ the Muse has here 
 Soft-touch'd with what delineating skill 
 Her powers allow ; declining many a theme 
 That once her meditated plan embraced, 
 And many more which these portentous times 
 Press on the mind, attentive to the scope 
 Of that prophetic strain (how much forgot !) 
 Whose voices, thund'rings, lightnings, are vouch- 
 safed, 
 Age afier age, to shew, that, howsoe'er 
 We revel in our guilt, or careless scan 
 Our present warfare, and our future weal, 
 There is a God, who will not, cannot, still 
 Bear with our follies; but (with awful signs 
 Preface of Retribution) will step forth 
 And claim regard ; make manifest his power ;
 
 132 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 Declare his lasting enmity to sin, 
 And vindicate each tittle of his Word. 
 Yes, who so meditates with fitting care 
 These sacred pages, must with awe perceive, 
 E'en ?iow, and in their most tremendous form, 
 God's judgments are gone forth, and many a sign, 
 Once dimly shadow'd, bursting into light 
 Apparent as th' events (peculiar dread) 
 They typify, as evidently meant 
 To rouse, and scourge, a vain apostate world. 
 O ! may they prove availing ! soon awake 
 Man's inattention to his Sovereign God ; 
 His duties, and his hopes ; make him to be 
 (What well he might with half the anxious care 
 He squanders on enjoyments short as vain) 
 The glory and reward of that high love 
 (Display'd in forms so many) which has here 
 Placed him a candidate for heavenly bliss ! 
 May frantic passions, sprung from sheer self-will, 
 Perverseness, vanity, the pride of life, 
 And pride of science, never more mislead
 
 THE RURAL SABBATH. 135 
 
 The mind from that humility which best 
 Protects its virtues and adorns its powers ! 
 May these fair times arrive, replete with all 
 That's gracious, comely, and of good report ; 
 Fit to prelude the wond'rous, happy age, 
 Destined throughout peculiarly to prove 
 Religion's glory and the Scoffer's shame ! 
 And may the Muse, pious as tuneful, quit 
 Each path licentious tending to disgrace 
 The powers of Fancy ; and her brightest gifts 
 Fervent apply to decorate and teach 
 Sound principles and truth; to the purged ear, 
 (With every winning attribute of song), 
 Convey real wisdom ; feelings that of old 
 Graced the Judcean harp, and which are still 
 Grateful, beyond the victor's shouts, to all 
 Who love their God, and wish the good of Man! 
 Then, haply, this slight effort (though pour'd forth 
 Amid obscurest shades, in days which shun 
 All home, and sober thinking) may appear 
 To some congenial minds, not framed amiss,
 
 131 THE RURAL SABBATH. 
 
 (Join'd with attempts more potent), to lead in 
 The powerful thrillings of the Christian lay 
 Which then shall pierce each region; touch each 
 
 heart ; 
 And, knowing her best province and reward, 
 Raise hih the honours of the tuneful Muse, j
 
 ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 GENIUS OF THE LAKES.
 
 ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 GENIUS OF THE LAKES. 
 
 (IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND.*) 
 
 I. 
 
 Hail, O thou! whose rising fame 
 
 Unusual progress makes, 
 Thou, whom Fancy here shall name 
 
 The Genius of the Lakes ; 
 The Muse, who ever loves to trace 
 Whate'er is fair on Nature's face, 
 
 * A few quarto copies of this Ode were printed and thrown 
 jnto the way of actual tourists in 1780 (at which time the 
 chief descriptions of the Lakes were to be found in Gray, 
 Young, Pennant, Hutchinson, and West) ; and it is here in- 
 serted partly for the sake of the biographical additions made to 
 the second of the annexed Notes.
 
 138 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 And see, though long with clouds o'ercast, 
 Neglected worth shine forth at last, 
 And simple taste and truth prevail, 
 Greets thee well, and bids thee hail ! 
 And if the strain may interpose 
 Aught form'd to sooth, or gently close 
 One beauteous effort of thy skill, 
 Let the Muse her aim fulfil, 
 Let her unfold, drawn from the Dorian lyre, 
 What thy bright sylvan groves, and varying fate 
 inspire. 
 
 II. 
 Long ere these happier days of genuine taste, 
 
 Which give thy magic scenes encomium due, 
 Through many an age, with like enchantment graced, 
 Thy rills kept tinkling, and thy thickets grew ; 
 Yet this was felt by few : 
 Unconscious of their matchless charms, 
 
 Unskill'd in scenic art, 
 And how refined perception warms 
 Whate'er can touch the heart,
 
 OF THE LAKES. 139 
 
 Then, save the joy which gen'ral nature yields, 
 The swain with fervour slight survey 'd thy beauteous 
 fields. 
 
 III. 
 Still, howe'er, without regret, 
 
 Thou'dst ply thy plastic skill ; 
 Toil but seems an easy debt, 
 When Fancy has its will. 
 To form thy wat'ry rounds complete, 
 By prototypes supremely neat, 
 And give them what might challenge fame,. 
 Though ne'er bestow'd, was all thy aim : 
 Content, the while, with self-applause, 
 Beauty's charms, and soft repose. 
 Thus innate worth still acts her part, 
 The best spectator her own heart ; 
 And thus, though o'er the sylvan green, 
 " Full many a flowret blush unseen," 
 Yet oft these blooms, once noticed, have been found 
 The pride of Flora's host, and through the world 
 renown'd.
 
 140 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 IV. 
 
 And now, when bright thy day of honour dawns, 
 
 Which quells the darksome shades of many a year, 
 What wond'ring crowds, to trace thy fairy lawns, 
 At Summer's call, in gayest trim appear ! 
 Sure this is praise sincere ! 
 See o'er thy rocks, along thy glades, 
 
 They rove with raptured eye ; 
 Now mark thy rills, and bold cascades, 
 Or scale some mountain high ; 
 Inspired by Taste, to Nature's int'rests true, 
 They deem all labour light, which brings thy charms 
 to view. 
 
 V. 
 
 Yearly honours such as these 
 
 Must gratitude inspire ; 
 Thou, whose pleasure is to please, 
 
 I know wilt feel its fire. 
 And, O when, with sickness pale, 
 Some virgin seeks thy balmy gale,
 
 OF THE LAKES. 141 
 
 Or hopeless, cheerless lover sees 
 His vigour waste by slow degrees, 
 While Nature in the dim sunk eye 
 Bids Art its speediest help apply, 
 Then thy breezes wing with health : 
 To cheer their minds, as if by stealth, 
 Thy soothing pictures interpose, 
 And hide Remembrance from its woes ! 
 So shall assiduous fame with joy relate, 
 Around thy realms so gay, Health's fairest pleasures 
 wait. 
 
 VI. 
 See, from the hills tost onward to the plains, 
 
 Streams white with foam down rocky channels leap, 
 Till join'd the lake, some fretful speed remains, 
 But there, at once, they all in quiet sleep. 
 Peace smiles upon the deep ! 
 So, many a train of busy cares, 
 Which hurt the human mind, 
 In Taste's fair bosom, unawares, 
 A soft oblivion find ;
 
 142 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 With gentlest lapse Life's mingled waters glide, 
 And fair reflected skies still gild the placid tide. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Twilight now has o'er each scene 
 Her dubious shadows thrown, 
 Straight the sportive fays convene 
 
 To gambol on the lawn. 
 By dew-brush'd footsteps, round and round, 
 Still their pranks next morn are found ; 
 And oft some glimpse of real array 
 Daunts the lone shepherd on his way. 
 Ha ! heard ye not from Bowdaii-stone 
 The spell-fixt ghost its fate bemoan ? 
 And clearer still (born on the breeze 
 Which waves those dank o'er-hanging trees, 
 As ever tost from steep to steep) 
 Lawdore's tormented spirit weep ; 
 While, fired with rage, on Skiddaw's clouded head, 
 Daemons of awful might display their thund'ring 
 tread ?
 
 OF THE LAKES. 14-3 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Tales such as these, which minds uncultured view 
 
 As half the source of Nature's mystic laws, 
 Erst o'er thy glades factitious horrors threw, 
 Till thoughts more just with science' sun arose; 
 And then the fabled cause, 
 No longer mighty to alarm, 
 
 But leagued with fancy gay, 
 Gave many a note of wilder charm 
 To deck the sylvan lay ; 
 Gave thy fair paths new topics to engage 
 The strains of sprightlicr wit, or contemplation sage. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Now the Muse, O power divine ! 
 
 Upborn on bolder wing, 
 Sees stern Winter's frowns decline ; 
 
 She sees returning Spring. 
 No more the hills are wreath'd with snow; 
 The shudd'ring tempests cease to blow ;
 
 144 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 And the soft enliv'ning gales 
 
 Gently cheer the sprouting vales ; 
 
 While, to new-deck each loved domain, 
 
 Thou begin'st thy toils again ; 
 
 To strew the groves and meads with flowers, 
 
 To hang fresh foliage o'er the bowers, 
 
 To smooth the lakes, and, all day long, 
 
 Give rapture to some linnet's soug ; 
 Then softly o'er th' extended landscape throw 
 The warm ethereal hues bright summer suns bestow. 
 
 X. 
 
 But small this art to the creative sway, 
 
 Which scoop'd the beds where countless streams 
 unite ; 
 First form'd the lawns, and, round the varying bay, 
 Scatter'd the oaks with arms of giant might; 
 And what else strikes the sight; 
 The foaming torrent head-long sent, 
 
 The gray rock's ivy'd face, 
 Some cliff tremendous, forward bent, 
 Or grotto's dim recess,
 
 OF THE LAKES. 145 
 
 Till, next, as if to guard these objects dear, 
 Th' encircling mountains huge their tow' ring heads 
 uprear. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Lo ! thy wand'ring eye to please, 
 
 O'er Thurston's* smooth expanse, 
 Verged with lawns of tufted trees, 
 
 ' The lightsome sun- beams dance. 
 
 ' On Windermere's long-scatter'd isles 
 Though Kirkston frown, fair Orrest smiles. 
 Cheerful Wythop waves his woods: 
 And round Derwent's glassy floods, 
 With many a fringed glade between, 
 Falcon's cliffs sublime are seen. 
 And hark ! to greet thy ear, remote 
 (While nearer flows the stock-dove's note) 
 Down Harter-hills, and Swarth-fell 
 
 steep, 
 A thousand humming cataracts sweep ; 
 
 * Otherwise Coniston. 
 L
 
 146 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 The eagles scream on Guramara high, 
 And Ulls' grand echoing sounds reverb'rat 
 through the sky. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Though Claude and Rosa join their utmost art, 
 
 Though greater Brown his rich invention strain, 
 They only prove thy views a charm impart, 
 ; Tis right to copy, but to rival, vain. 
 So fares what poets feign : 
 The vale of Tempe, fields that smile 
 
 With gay Elysian flowers, 
 Or what might young restraint beguile 
 In Amara's jealous bowers;* 
 These scenes of labour'd fancy ill convey 
 What thy fair tints and forms at ev'ry step display. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Happy, sure, in these retreats 
 To ply the shepherd's trade ! 
 
 * See Paradise Lost, Book iv. line 281.
 
 OF THE LAKES. 14~ 
 
 (If the sweets be native sweets 
 
 Then still more happy made;) 
 At morn, as o'er the mountain's head 
 Slow-pacing clouds their vapoure spread, 
 Along the breezy heights to stray, 
 While nibbling flocks roam all the way, 
 And hear below the sky-lark's note 
 Blithe mixing with the horn remote ; 
 At noon, in some lone shady dell 
 The legend's wond'rous tale to spell 
 Fast by the brooks ; and then, at eve, 
 If some dear Lucy but give leave, 
 
 Pipe to the echos, till bright Hesper's ray 
 
 Shine o'er the dusky hills, where sunk the god of 
 day. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But happier far, when here some youthful mind, 
 Sanguine through hope, and Nature's prompt 
 desire, 
 
 With raptured eye, and fancy unconfined, 
 Drinks the deep magic of the Muse's lyre :
 
 148 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 And oft with daring fire, 
 Himself attempts to make its strings, 
 
 With thrilling tones suggest, 
 The high-born images of things, 
 That warm the Poet's breast ; 
 That, worthy of the scenes from whence they rose, 
 With charms of genuine grace might win deserved 
 applause. 
 
 XV. 
 Grateful to each lib'ral glow, 
 And truth's inspiring flame, 
 To thy happy soil we owe 
 
 Full many an honour'd name. 
 There the pious Gilpin spent 
 His early youth of serious bent, 
 And Sandys, and Gibson, Mills renown'd, 
 Skill'd in Scripture lore profound. 
 The various realms of classic taste 
 Thy Aglionby and Hudson graced. 
 And learning's amplest stores we find, 
 In Barlow's deep retentive mind;
 
 OF THE LAKES. 149 
 
 While, dear to Science, thou may'st claim 
 The highest praise from Chambers' name. 
 And Him,* who had he reach'd maturer age, 
 Th' admiring world had seen a second Newton 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Nor dumb the Muse. To Cumbria's list'ning 
 swains, 
 Relph sweetly warbles on his ivy-leaf; \ 
 Who but applauds when Tickell pours his strains, 
 And Brown gives energy to scenic grief? 
 
 And ah ! what soft reprieve 
 To the more tender throbs of care 
 
 Do Langhorne's notes convey, 
 As down the vale of Eden fair 
 They wind their tuneful way \\ 
 
 * Joseph Sowerby. See his name in the second of the 
 following notes. 
 
 T Alluding more particularly to his pastorals in the Cum- 
 berland dialect. 
 
 X Vide his beautiful little Ode to the river Eden.
 
 150 ODE TO THE GENIUS 
 
 And, were it meet to dwell on living fame, 
 
 Still do thy studious sons high Attic honours claim. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Objects three the duly wise 
 
 With raptured eye explore, 
 Things material, Moral ties, 
 
 And Revelation's lore. 
 As each unfolds a world complete, 
 Where all that's fit and comely meet, 
 So each on each, through kindred laws 
 And kindred charms, new light bestows ; 
 While, through the whole, no part is seen 
 Where Beauty's footsteps have not been. 
 And, O were the Taste, which now 
 Decks with praise thy modest brow, 
 Extended to the bright domains, 
 Where heavenly-fair Religion reigns, 
 Then would thy scenes a happy medium prove 
 To the first great intent of Nature's ardent love!'
 
 OF THE LAKES. 151 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 For though refined pursuits deserve applause, 
 And genuine pleasure at each step reveal, 
 Yet Nature ne'er her brightest smile bestows, 
 Till holy Faith instruct us how to feel ; 
 
 Till from vain crowds we steal, 
 And Virtue see a God confess'd 
 
 O'er ev'ry atom reign, 
 And find her own well-cultured breast 
 A Paradise contain ; 
 And thus the fond admiring soul prepare 
 For scenes of endless bliss, past utt'rancegood and 
 fair. 
 
 February, 17 80.
 
 [ 153 ] 
 
 THREE OCCASIONAL NOTES. 
 
 NOTE I. 
 Stanza XII. lines 10, 11. 
 
 These scenes of lab our' d fancy ill convey 
 
 What thy fair tints and forms at ev'ry step display. 
 
 In Article 8th of the Addenda to the new editions of The 
 Guide to the Lakes it is recommended, as a particular that 
 would greatly contribute to the perfection of this beautiful re- 
 gion, to have proper objects placed on some of the eminences 
 with which it abounds. The author of this piece is fully aware 
 of the vanity ready to be attributed to every one, who on any 
 occasion attempts to dictate to the public ; and yet he cannot 
 but here (with the greatest deference) take the opportunity to 
 suggest another particular of a like kind, which he fancies may 
 merit attention by future tourists. What is here meant is the 
 erection of neat inscribed pillars, tablets, &c. by the affluent 
 visitors, near a favourite lake or station,* commemorative of 
 some friend, person of genius, &c. or of the time when they 
 themselves enjoyed the pleasure of viewing the surrounding 
 objects. They might thus, in a part which gives the fairest 
 
 * There is no doubt but that leave for erections of this sort 
 might easily be gained on any proper site, and that they would 
 long be preserved almost religiously inviolate.
 
 154 NOTES. 
 
 play to genuine feeling and fancy, either evince their regard 
 for merit, and their love of nature, or record their friendships, 
 and recall to the minds of posterity, that they too had visited 
 Arcadia. The undertaking would not only beautify these 
 scenes, and give occasion to many a pleasing reflection, but, 
 I flatter myself, be a credit to the national taste, and in time 
 become itself a new inducement to make a tour, which must 
 contribute to health, while it recreates with the most innocent 
 of pleasures. Invention would find endless hints for these 
 erections and inscriptions ; but it is submitted to those, who 
 approve of the design, whether it would not be proper, as a 
 specimen of such commemorative ornaments, to begin with a 
 memorial of the late Dr. Brown on the borders of Derwent- 
 waler, and of Mr. Gray near the lake of Grasmere. These 
 lakes have received singular honour from their pens, and the 
 world will long be amused and instructed by their more ela- 
 borate performances. 
 
 NOTE II. 
 
 Stanza XV. lines 3, 4. 
 
 To thy happy soil we owe 
 Full many an honour' d name. 
 
 The difficulty of introducing a list of names into verse is 
 evident. When they are numerous, a part only must be se- 
 lected ; and whatever be the rule of preference laid down by 
 the poet, still they may prove intractable on account of accent 
 and quantity. Regularity and completeness must not there- 
 fore in this case be expected. But as the deficiency may be
 
 NOTES. 155 
 
 remedied by a note, and the author fancies a catalogue of the 
 celebrated men, who have been born in the district of the 
 lakes, or at least in the counties of Westmorland and Cumber- 
 land, might entertain his readers, he has subjoined the follow- 
 ing one, chiefly from the ordinary Biographies. This he was 
 more especially induced to draw up, as the late historians of 
 these two counties, Burn and Nicolson, have not thought 
 proper to allot a distinct portion of their volumes to so agree- 
 able a topic ; nor do their detached accounts enter regularly 
 
 into the index. After all, the author is conscious that this 
 
 list is imperfect, but he had not the opportunities he could 
 have wished to complete it. 
 
 Bainbridge (Christopher), Archbishop of York, and 
 Cardinal-priest of the Romish church. Though an author, 
 and accounted learned, his writings are lost, and his name is 
 now chiefly remembered as an ambassador from Henry VIII. 
 to Pope Julius II. He was born at Hilton, near Appleby, 
 (West) ; when, is not certain, but he died (at Rome) in 1514. 
 
 Skelton (John), poet laureat to Henry VIII. Though 
 harsh in his satires, his other productions are allowed to dis- 
 cover imagination. Neither the place nor time of his birth are 
 recorded, but he is said to be descended from the Skettons in 
 Cumberland. 
 
 Gilpin (Bernard), rector of Houghton. A zealous re- 
 former, well skilled in all the parts of learning then in esteem, 
 and for his many Christian virtues usually called The apostle 
 of the North. He was born in Kentmere, near Kendal, 0V.J 
 in 1517, and died in 1583. 
 
 Grindal (Edmund), Archbishop of Canterbury. A zealous 
 confessor ; a lover of learning, and the friend of the deserving.
 
 156 NOTES. 
 
 He founded and endowed St. Bees school, and was bom at 
 Hensingham, near Whitehaven, (Cumb.) in 1519 ; he died in 
 1583. 
 
 Sandys (Edwin), Archbishop of York. An active re- 
 former, and one of the most eminent protestant preachers and 
 divines of his time. He was concerned in making a new 
 translation of the Bible in 1505, and in drawing up the Com- 
 mon Prayer and Liturgy. He founded and endowed Hawks- 
 head school, and was born at or near Haivkshead, (Lancash.) 
 in 1519, and died in 1583. His second son, Sir Edwin, was 
 also famous for his learning, and the author of Europce Spe- 
 culum. His youngest son, George, gained much reputation 
 by an elegant translation of Ovid. 
 
 AiRtY (Henry), Provost of Queen's College, Oxford. Au- 
 thor of some few learned pieces, but most remembered for his 
 virtues. He was born in Kentmere {fV.) in 1559, and died in 
 1616. 
 
 Crackenthrop (Richard), a learned man, and author 
 of several tracts. He was born at or near Strickland {TV.) 
 Entered at Oxford in 1583, and died in 1624. 
 
 Aglionby (John), Chaplain in ordinary to James I. A 
 most accomplished scholar and critic. He had a considerable 
 hand in the translation of the New Testament appointed by 
 James I. in 1604. He was born at Nunnery, near Kirkoswald, 
 (C.) in 1566, and died in 1609. 
 
 Barlow (Thomas), Bishop of Lincoln. A man of prodi- 
 gious extent of learning, which he manifested in several pro- 
 ductions. He was born at Langhill, near Orton, {IV.) in 1607. 
 
 Barwick (John), Dean of St. Paul's. A learned man, and 
 a very active and loyal friend of Charles II. He left the great- 
 est part of his fortune to charitable uses for his native place:
 
 NOTES. 157 
 
 this was TVitherslack, near Kendal, (TV.) He was born in 
 1612, and died in 1664. His brother Peter was an eminent 
 physician in ordinary to Charles II. and died in August 1705. 
 
 Addison (Lancelot), Dean of Litchfield, and father of the 
 celebrated Joseph Addison. He was a man of great natural 
 endowments, learning, and worth, and author of several 
 valuable treatises. He was born at Mauldismeaburn, near 
 Appleby, (TV.) in 1632, and died 20th April 1703. 
 
 Mills (John), Chaplain in ordinary to Charles II. cele- 
 brated for his most learned and beautiful edition of the Greek 
 Testament. He was born at Hardendale, near Shap, {TV.) 
 about the year 1645, and died in 1707. 
 
 Nicolson (William), Bishop of Carlisle. A great scholar 
 and antiquarian, which he has evinced in a multiplicity of 
 writings. He was born at Orion, (TV.) about the year 1655, 
 and died in 1727. 
 
 Smith (John), a divine of distinguished abilities and learn- 
 ing. He was of so happy a genius, that in the 5th year of his 
 age he had learned the Latin grammar, and the Greek in his 
 9th. He was born at Lowther, near Shap, (TV.) in 1659, and 
 died in 1715. 
 
 Smith (Joseph), younger brother to the preceding Dr. 
 John Smith, was also an eminent divine, and born at Low- 
 ther. 
 
 Langbaine (Gerard), a learned writer of his" time. He 
 settled 24 1, per annum on the free-school of Barton Kirk, 
 (TV.) where he was born about 1608 ; he died in 1658. He 
 had a son Gerard, who was also a man of parts, and an 
 author, and died in 1692. 
 
 Hudson (John), a critic of great learning, and a man of 
 equal probity. He distinguished himself to the learned abroad
 
 158 NOTES. 
 
 as well as at home, by several valuable editions of Greek and 
 Latin authors. He was born at Widekope, near Cockermouth, 
 (C.) in 1662, and died in November 1719. 
 
 Gibson (Edmund), Bishop of London, A prelate of distin- 
 guished worth, learning, and vigilance ; author of several 
 well-known tracts, and famed for his knowledge in the En- 
 glish ecclesiastical constitution. He was born at Knipe, near 
 
 Shap, (W.) in 1669, and died in 1748. Thomas Gibson, 
 
 M. D. the noted author of a book on Anatomy, was his uncle, 
 and born at the same place. 
 
 Tickell (Thomas), a poet of great and well-known merit. 
 His elegant productions placed him in his own time at the 
 head of the minor poets, but his genius is the more admired, 
 the more it is known. He was born at Bridekirk, near 
 Cockermouth, (C.) * in 1686, and died in 1742. 
 
 Chambers (Ephraim), the celebrated author of the Dic- 
 tionary of Arts and Sciences. He was born at a village called 
 Milton, near the middle of the road between Burton and 
 Kendal (IV.) ; when, not certain, but he died the 15th of 
 May 1740. 
 
 Collinson (Petek), a noted and intelligent member of the 
 Royal Society, and distinguished by his virtues as well as 
 knowledge. He was born at Ings, or Hugill,ntzx Kendal, {W.) 
 in 1693, and died the llth of August 1768. 
 
 Shaw (Thomas), Principal of St. Edmund Hall, Regius 
 Professor of Greek at Oxford, and well known to the learned 
 world by his travels into Barlary and the Levant. He was 
 born at Kendal, (W.) in the year 1694,t and died in 1751. 
 
 * Dean is erroneously though commonly mentioned as his 
 birth-place. 
 + This date is from his friends. Noorthouck's is 1692.
 
 NOTES. 159 
 
 Seed (JEREMrAH), u A man of the most able head, and 
 amiable heart ;" author of some admirable and popular ser- 
 mons. He was born at Clifton, [W.) near Penrith ; when, 
 not ascertained, but he died in 1747. 
 
 Fothergill (George), Principal of St. Edmund Hall, in 
 Oxford; anthor of two volumes of excellent sermons, which 
 in the Critical Review are classed with the writings of these 
 able advocates of Christianity, Chillingworth, Hooker, and 
 Leland. He was born at Lockholme in Ravenstondale, {W.) 
 in 1705, died 1760. 
 
 D alton (John), a man of most elegant learning, exquisite 
 wk, and amiable manners. He adapted Milton's Masque to 
 the stage, and was author of the poem descriptive of the vale 
 of Keswick, &c. He was born at Dean, near Cockermouth, 
 (C.) in 1709, and died in 1763. 
 
 Relph (Josiah), schoolmaster of Sebergham, author of a 
 volume of poems, which, if not characterised by any strong 
 marks of genius, nevertheless entitle him to a respectable place 
 among the minor poets. His pastorals in the Cumberland 
 dialect have certainly great merit. The collection is introduced 
 with a biographical preface by the Rev. Mr. Denton mentioned 
 below ; and every one who reads it will allow with him, that 
 " Relph's life and virtues (whatever his genius and writings 
 may do) deserve very well to be remembered." He was born 
 at Sebergham, near Carlisle, (C.) in 1712, and died in 1743. 
 
 Sowerby (Joseph), a man of most extraordinary genius 
 and proficiency in the mathematics. Though, on account of 
 his early death, and other circumstances, he has not left any 
 works behind him to perpetuate his name, yet his uncommon 
 abilities, and amiable manners, deserve to be recorded ; and I 
 wish this slight revival of his memory may induce some
 
 160 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 person who knows his history to draw up a regular account of 
 his life for the inspection of the public. Though it is from the 
 fruit we are the most ready to praise the tree, yet promising 
 blossoms ever deserve admiration, should they not arrive at the 
 maturity which demands our gratitude. That what is related 
 of him here, and at the close of the stanza referred to, is not 
 without foundation, may be seen by the following character 
 which was inserted in the papers and magazines of the time, 
 and said to be drawn up by Dr. Bradley, professor of astro- 
 nomy at Oxford. But whoever wrote it, the concluding en- 
 comium, I am informed, was not judged extravagant by those 
 who knew his abilities ; and his pupils, that are yet alivc,speak 
 of him with an enthusiasm almost approaching to veneration. 
 
 " October 12, I74g. On Thursday last died at his lodgings 
 in Edmonton, Mr. John Sowerly, of Murrah* in Cumber- 
 land. A gentleman not only of uncommon genius, but singu- 
 lar proficiency in mathematical learning. Without education 
 to improve, without fortune to advance, without friends to 
 recommend him, without breeding to engage, without ad- 
 dress to win, without eloquence to persuade, he not only de- 
 served but procured the esteem of the most conversant in that 
 noble and abstruse science. But that excessive application to 
 study, which (under all these disadvantages) brought him into 
 the regard of the learned world, cut off, at the age of 28, a 
 genius that wanted only time to have ripened into that of a 
 second Newton" 
 
 To this list we may subjoin the following names (out of se- 
 veral others I have not opportunity to collect) which, though 
 they have not yet been introduced into our popular biography, 
 some of them, at least, will enrich it at a future period. 
 
 * In the parish of Graystock.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 161 
 
 Thomas Denton, M. A. late Rector of Ashtead, in Surrey, 
 besides some Biographical compilations, was author of the 
 Consolations of human life, in Dodsley's, and the House oj 
 Superstition, in Pearch's Collection of Poems. He was born 
 at Sebergham, near Carlisle, 1724, and died in 1777, (C.) At 
 Brough, (W.) was born William Thompson, Fellow of 
 Queen's College, Oxford, author of the poem on Sickness in 
 four hooks, and other poetical pieces. The late Dr. Joseph 
 Brown, Provost of Queen's College, Oxford, known to the 
 learned world by an elegant edition of Barbarini's Poems, was 
 born at IValermillock, near Ulls-icater, (C.) in 1700, and died 
 in 1769. Popular fame has given IViglon, in Cumberland, the 
 honour of being the birth place of Dr. Brown, author of the 
 Essays on the Characteristics, the tragedies of Barbarossa and 
 Athelstan, &c. but candour obliges the writer of the foregoing 
 lines to confess (what he has learned since they were written), 
 that Rothbury, in Northumberland, was the real place of his 
 nativity in 17 15, though he was brought from thence to Wigton 
 (where his father was Rector) so young as to be conveyed in a 
 basket. He died in 1766. 
 
 Dr. Langhorne, the poet, was born ixWinlon, near Kirkly 
 Stephen, {W.) and died 1779. 
 
 We may yet add, that Hogarth, the famous painter, was 
 of Westmorland extraction, from a place called Kirkby-Thore, 
 and that there are some reasons to think the great reformer 
 IVickhjfY/as born in one of these two counties. 
 
 In the late copious and valuable History of Cumberland by 
 Mr. Hutchinson, an ingenious native of that county has in- 
 serted at large the lives of such of the above named eminent 
 persons as came within that district, elegantly written with 
 
 M
 
 162 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 many new circumstances. He has also inserted the lives of 
 several other distinguished men not mentioned above ; and 
 from them the following additional names are taken as they 
 occur in the index. A like account might probably be given 
 to those of the County of Westmorland, and the other parts 
 adjoining to the Lakes, by as careful an inquiry ; but this will 
 best succeed in the hands of some future local historian. 
 
 Banks (Sir John) Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 
 was born at Keswick. He died in 1644, and left a handsome 
 sum of money for the benefit of the poor of his native place. 
 
 Benson (George) A learned, industrious, and eminent 
 non-conformist divine, author of several very valuable theo- 
 logical tracts, paraphrases, and notes on the New Testament, 
 was born at Salkeld in 1699, and died in 1762. 
 
 Bolton (Simpson) Author of valuable editions (with notes) 
 of some of the classics, was born (sometime within the 
 last century) at Redmain in the parish of Isle. 
 
 Carleton (Guy) Bishop of Chichester (after being Bishop 
 of Bristol) was born in the parish of Gilsland early in the 
 seventeenth century, and died in 1685. 
 
 Fletcher (Abram) A pipe-maker by trade, from un- 
 common abilities and exertions, under the greatest difficulties, 
 acquired such a knowledge of the mathematics, as enabled 
 him to publish a book in that science, called the Universal 
 Measure, which is said to be the best single volume of ma- 
 thematical rudiments extant in our language. He also made 
 great progress in other kinds of learned subjects; but his 
 singular life deserves to be read at large. He was born at 
 Little Broughton in 1714, and died in 1793. 
 
 Graham (George) The celebrated clock and watchmaker 
 (and to whose skill and industry in making mathematical
 
 163 
 
 instruments, the late astronomers of other countries, as well as 
 of our own, are so much indebted) was born at Horsgills in 
 the parish of Kirklenton in the year 1675. He died in 1751, 
 not more admired as a superior artist, than valued as a good 
 man. 
 
 Hall (Anthony) A writer of acute parts and penetrating 
 judgment ; author of several tracts in Latin (as Commentaries 
 on British Writers, Annals of English Kings, &c), was born 
 in the parish of Bowness in 1679, and died in 1723. 
 
 Hobson (Thomas) Author of a very poetical and philoso- 
 phical Poem, called Christianity the Light of the Moral World, 
 published in 1755, is said to have been a native of this Country. 
 He died in 1777- 
 
 Leake (John) Author of Lectures on the Theory and 
 Practice of Midwifery, and several other medical tracts (and 
 who was a chief promoter of the Westminster Lying-inn 
 Hospital), was born in the parish of Ainslable, and died in 1792. 
 
 Reay (William) The learned and worthy author of a 
 volume of highly esteemed Sermons, was born in the parish 
 of Denton. He died in 1756. 
 
 Ritson (Isaac) An uncommon genius, was born at Eamont 
 Bridge in 1761, and died in 1789. His abilities were such, 
 that if he had met with more encouragement, possessed less 
 volatility, and his life been spared to a longer date, it is pro- 
 bable he would have eminently signalized himself in some of 
 the paths of literature : for his mind seemed to be capable of 
 comprehending almost all subjects, with an intuitive felicity. 
 He had written a little, and planned more ; and a specimen 
 of his prose may be seen in the preface to Clarke's Survey of 
 the Lakes. But his life at large is worthy of perusal. 
 
 Salkeld (John) A profound theologian, authorof a Treatise
 
 16*4 NOTES. 
 
 on Angels (l6l3),and another on Paradise, was born at Corby 
 Castle, and died in 165P, aged 84. 
 
 Wallis (John) author of a History of Northumberland, 
 published in 1769, was born in the neighbourhood of Oreby. 
 
 Williamson (Sir Joseph) Secretary to Charles the Second, 
 was born at Bridekirk. He gave in his life time to Queen's 
 College Oxford, to the value of eight thousand pounds, and 
 a considerable number of books to the library of St. Bees. 
 
 It may yet be mentioned, that Ray, the naturalist, and Sir 
 John Harrington, the translator of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, 
 were considered as of Cumberland extraction. 
 
 NOTE III. 
 
 Stanza XVI. lines 10, 11. 
 
 And, were it meet to dwell on living fame, 
 
 Still do thy studious sons high Attic honours claim. 
 
 A properly informed mind, I should think, would always 
 experience a peculiar difficulty in publicly touching upon the 
 characters of men ; especially of those that are living. The 
 present licentious state of the press has, however, in a good 
 measure destroyed this delicacy, and the self-interested tourist 
 (as well as the factious politician) now finds his account, more 
 in retailing personal anecdotes, and giving glimpses (however 
 partial and imperfect) at living character, than in the avowed 
 purport of his title-page. When this practice terminates in 
 censure, there is certainly something cruel in it, and when in 
 praise, though well meant and morally right, it may never- 
 theless for many reasons give pain to the object. Partly from
 
 NOTES. l65 
 
 these considerations the author here foregoes a tempting op- 
 portunity to introduce a few pages into his work, which 
 would stand a great chance, merely of themselves, to recom. 
 mend the rest to public notice. For there are several men 
 now living, bom in the neighbourhood of the Lakes, that for 
 strength of genius, depth of learning, proficiency in arts, 
 elegance of taste, and rectitude of understanding, are an orna- 
 ment to their age and nation. Still however he declines being 
 particular : he is afraid of hurting the delicacy of some with 
 the manner of the notice, and offending all with the insig- 
 nificance of the vehicle.
 
 STANZAS 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 DOCTOR JOHNSON.
 
 STANZAS 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 DOCTOR JOHNSON. 
 
 I. 
 
 X rom scene to scene, when all around is gay, 
 
 Our fickle thoughts too wantonly are led ; 
 In vain what's worthy courts their lengthen'd stay, 
 
 New bubbles glitter, and its charms are fled ; 
 Nor can its hopes be sped, 
 Till the soft gloom of some afflictive hour 
 
 Needful assistance to attention brings; 
 Then most the judgment proves its destined power 
 
 To form unerring estimates of things ; 
 High virtuous deeds ; rare faculties of mind ; 
 All, all that wins esteem, and dignifies mankind.
 
 170 STANZAS ON THE 
 
 II. 
 
 You hear the sigh profound, that solemn flows, 
 
 Beating the billowy air from shore to shore; 
 You see the grief the rapid tale bestows 
 
 Which tells the nations Johnson is no more: 
 The Muses weep full sore : 
 Smit with th' extension of his letter'd fame, 
 
 His moral merits, and laborious days, 
 What powerful bursts of undisguised acclaim 
 
 Mix with the tears which speak a gentler praise ! 
 Now genuine Nature rules the soflen'd heart, 
 All feel his worth supreme, and what they feel impart. 
 
 III. 
 
 Grateful effusions ! Yes, fulfil your views, 
 Ye sons of Fancy and the tuneful Nine ; 
 
 To deck his grave, the fondest tokens use 
 
 That e'er were cull'd to honour human shrine ; 
 The flow'ry wreath entwine, 
 
 Of trim device, of hues surpassing fair, 
 
 And fragrant as the balmy sweets of morn ;
 
 DEATH OF DR. JOHNSON. Ifl 
 
 Let the slow requiem through the list'ning air, 
 
 In softest thrills of melody be born ; 
 And, where he sleeps, bid the high-sculptured stone, 
 Worthy his Albion's gift, in lasting traits make 
 known. 
 
 IV. 
 For, where did learning, in the rolls of time, 
 
 More brightly prove and urge its true intent ? 
 Where genius pierce to regions more sublime, 
 While judgment rare a stedfast guidance lent, 
 Than that we now lament ? 
 Yet Fancy, lovely Fancy ! still was found 
 
 Mingling her footsteps with these radiant powers, 
 An4 many a soothing note, of Attic sound, 
 
 She warbled as she dropp'd her waste of flowers, 
 And never through their less enlighten'd aisles 
 The blooming quire led on, without due cheering 
 smiles. 
 
 V. 
 P>ut, more to form real Wisdom's shining page, 
 Than brightest parts by rarest science taught ;
 
 1/2 STANZAS ON THE 
 
 Than the deep piercings of a Newton sage, 
 
 Or Plato's strains with honied cadence fraught, 
 Is rectitude of thought ; 
 
 That happy power of mind which promptly sees, 
 Just as it is, life's variegated scene, 
 
 And, to unfold what best may teach and please, 
 O'erlooks th' inferior lineaments between ; 
 
 Where Truth's important, winning radiance glows, 
 
 Alone, and with delight, its plastic glances throws. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And this was his ; supremely his. For still, 
 
 Though Learning bless'd him with her amplest 
 store, 
 From Native Sense he drew the leading skill, 
 
 Which gave the beauties of his manly lore. 
 Thus, round its destined shore, 
 In various forms of masterly design, 
 
 Shoot the fair chrystals of the chymic tide ; 
 Of which, if Art may scheme the bounding line, 
 
 111 can its works superior tests abide ;
 
 DEATH OF DR. JOHNSON. 173 
 
 What it achieves with slow remitting pains, 
 The Fixing Power, at once, unerringly obtains. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Drawn from these sacred founts, 'tis hence we view 
 
 Such varied charms illume his page divine; 
 Truth's common lore adorn'd with beauty new, 
 And rich accessions from its deepest mine: 
 The perfect fair design ; 
 Language, extensive as the forms of things, 
 
 Display'd with every blandishment of art ; 
 All that enchanting energy which springs 
 
 From clear perception, and a feeling heart j 
 Where order meet makes mere assertion yield 
 Proof, sought for oft in vain from reasoning's ampler 
 field. 
 
 VIII. 
 Though great the task, with philosophic eye, 
 
 Our tongue's extensive basis to explore, 
 And, for the real delight it may supply, 
 Augment the bounds of genuine critic lore, 
 His labours aim'd at more:
 
 174 STANZAS ON THE 
 
 To check unthinking Folly's headlong course ; 
 
 Just views of Life with vigour to display ; 
 Give Virtue its true pressure, form, and force, 
 
 And Vice those frowns which should her hopes 
 betray, 
 And shew, howe'er our pride the subject scan, 
 To act and think aright best proves the worth of 
 man. 
 
 IX. 
 Nor were these moral toils inspired in vain. 
 
 How just and strong the portraitures they draw! 
 How winning soft the cadence of their strain ! 
 
 How warm their deep-drawn exhortations glow ! 
 From virtue rare they flow ; 
 A virtue, lib'ral as the powers of mind 
 
 It joy'd with holy fervencies to raise, 
 And which with genius still must be combined 
 
 To reap the highest meed of ethic praise ; 
 For, if the head a weighty truth impart, 
 Its warm, its living force must issue from the heart.
 
 DEATH OF DIt. JOHNSON, 17$ 
 
 X. 
 
 Ever have rare ingenuous natures been 
 
 Smit with the tuneful accents of sweet sound ; 
 Ever in mental beauty's modest sheen, 
 
 The dearest charms of contemplation found. 
 Soft dance their joys around ! 
 And, can the heart resist the pure delight, 
 
 Nor catch one fervour of the Muse's fire ? 
 Ah ! no ; the feeling and the act unite, 
 
 And, hark ! what hands have smote the sounding 
 lyre! 
 Its thrilling tones, the trembling chords among, 
 Prove ev'ry varied form of soul-subduing song ; 
 
 XL 
 
 Fraught with the rapture of the prophet's lore, 
 Near Sion's sacred hill, commence the strains ; 
 
 Next, tuned to arts, around Ilissits shore, 
 
 The fair-form'd minstrelsy new power obtains ; 
 Then, on the Latian plains,
 
 1?6 STANZAS ON THE 
 
 While Echo's tuneful voice each dell pervades, 
 The classic warblings more luxuriant grow, 
 
 Till, through the openings of these western glades, 
 Their choral peals in fullest cadence flow ; 
 
 Till now, as smiling in their critic's praise, 
 
 They proudly with their own unite his laureate lays 
 
 XII. 
 
 Ah ! from the confines of yon parting cloud, 
 
 What bursts of glory catch the startled eye ! 
 Dark spiry wreaths the orient opening shroud ; 
 Beyond, what depths of bright savannas lie ! 
 And down them from on high, 
 See, to this nether sheen, in meet array, 
 
 What numerous quires of heavenly forms ad- 
 vance ! 
 Fair laurell'd crowns their hoary heads display ; 
 Their golden lyres in endless radiance glance ; 
 And now, as low they bend, seraphic strains, 
 From orb to orb rebound, through all th' ethereal 
 plains.
 
 DEATH OF DR. JOHNSON. 177 
 
 XIII. 
 
 'Tis they of parts supreme, who, while on earth, 
 
 Utter'd their dulcet lore in Virtue's cause, 
 That now receive, as of congenial worth, 
 
 Their Johnson's spirit with their best applause: 
 Who, at this solemn pause, 
 See, the Eternal Arbiter Divine, 
 
 Approve with smiles, a pilgrimage so fair, 
 And to their realms of endless bliss assign 
 
 The powers of mind which Pride could ne'er 
 ensnare, 
 That, in the fullest draughts of letter'd fame, 
 Still, still with faith revered the Christian's sacred 
 name. 
 
 XIV. 
 And now, adopted saint, if this weak lay 
 
 May haply touch the purged celestial ear, 
 Accept its praise, which hopes but to essay 
 One little boon to serve thy mem'rv here ; 
 To check, in its career, 
 
 N
 
 173 STANZAS, &C. 
 
 The froward calumny which Envy base, 
 
 On Worth's defeweeless tomb still gladly throws, 
 Then die itself, as surer strokes efface 
 
 The last vain efforts of thy harshest foes ; 
 When, from its innate strength, thy fame shall soar 
 Unhurt, through ev'ry realm, till time shall be no 
 more. 
 
 XV. 
 Yet, shall not Gratitude her thanks return 
 
 For the abundant labours of thy Muse ? 
 For Eloquence, whose periods while they burn, 
 
 Instruction's soundest, choicest truths infuse ? 
 For Wisdom's tow'ring views, 
 Deck'd with those images of Fancy's train 
 
 The mind still wishes in its toils to meet ? 
 And Virtue panting for our endless gain, 
 
 And all the magic of their union sweet ? 
 Yes, where thy worth the song of praise inspires, 
 Still shall her willing voice augment its tuneful firei. 

 
 [ 179] 
 
 CONTINUATION, 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND, 
 
 WHICH HAPPENED NEAR THE 
 SAME TIME. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 How swift the foot of Death! scarce has the tear, 
 
 Which join'd a general sorrow, ceased to flow, 
 Than the sad sympathies of friendship's bier 
 
 Renew its fountain with severer woe: 
 And much it must be so ! 
 Affection, won with notice ever kind, 
 
 Esteem, for worth, and wisdom's fairest lore, 
 Mem'ry, with many a pleasing thought combin'd, 
 
 Of studious joys, which now can be no more ; 
 These long possess'd, and seated in the heart, 
 As nature points the way, their varied pangs impart.
 
 180 STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Yet, ever in the tenderest hours of grief 
 
 Some soothing semblances the mind pursues. 
 Some glimpse of thought, which either brings lielief, 
 Or gives its sorrows less depressing hues : ! 
 And now it fondly views 
 Each sage, whose rites funereal chanced so r ear. 
 
 Alike with every Christian virtue grac'd ; 
 Vain Folly's foe; of truth the friend sincere; 
 
 Deep versed in things, and bright in lettev'd taste; 
 Johnson supremely guide the critic quill, 
 
 And James * best feel and teach how great that 
 critic skill. 
 
 XVIII. 
 But tears return; the drooping scenes around 
 
 Again their images of grief suggest, 
 And long, my James, long will thy loss be found 
 To touch thy friend's unalterable breast. 
 Yet, pleased the lay shall rest, 
 
 * See Note at the end. v
 
 THE REV. DK. JAMES. 181 
 
 To think it yields another mean to raise 
 The fond remembrance of departed joys ; 
 
 That, while its opening dwells on Johnson's praise 
 Thy kindred worth its closing strain employs ; 
 
 Pleased, though 'tis sorrow's boon, much pleased to 
 see 
 
 The sigh it heaves for him is mix'd with one for thee.
 
 [ 132 ] 
 SHORT ACCOUNT 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. DR. JAMES. 
 
 VV ere celebrity of name always proportioned to worth of 
 character, it would not need to be noted here, who he was 
 that is the subject of the above additional lines. But as, from 
 a number of evident causes, this cannot be the case, it may 
 -be proper (for the sake of some readers) to subjoin the fol- 
 lowing account. 
 
 The Reverend John James, D. D. here lamented, was 
 Rector of Arlhurrt, and Kirk Andrews in Cumberland, and 
 formerly Head Master of the Grammar School at St, Bees, in 
 the same county. As a Teacher, he was extensively know n 
 for his elegant learning, and natural abilities : for his assiduity, 
 attention to morals, affability of manners, and that happy, 
 conciliating, and encouraging temper of mind, which ever 
 gains the affections of the ingenious and ingenuous. As a 
 Preacher, he was powerful and pathetic. His style was manly, 
 animated, and clear ; and his delivery uncommonly pleasing. 
 He spoke from the heart, and the impression he made on his 
 hearers always witnessed the source, and secured their attention 
 and esteem. Need we add after this, that as a Man, he was 
 an ornament to humanity, and beloved by all who knew him ;
 
 ACCOUNT OF THE REV. DR. JAMES. 183 
 
 that he was affectionate to his relatives and friends, kind to 
 the deserving, compassionate to the distressed, exemplary in 
 his conduct, and a steady advocate and supporter of our most 
 holy religion. 
 
 He died the 1st of January 1785, and Dr. Johnson on the 
 13th of the preceding month. 
 
 Printed by W. Bulmer and Co. 
 Cleveland-Row, St. James's.
 
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