-5>^ I s xbr c s^^ T^]l "■nil ^¥ ■ 'm^^^ liimil Doctri) I THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE I I. L U S T It A T I .\ I i 'Clje ,^fasons anil ^tWnWv, of tlir JJrar, T II E 1 1: CHANGES, EMPLOYMENTS, LESSONS, AND PLEASURES, TOPI C ALLY PARAGRAPHED; COMPLETE INDEX: JOSEPH WILLIAM JENKS. .M. A., BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY JOIL\ P. JEWETT AND COMPANV. CLEVELAND, OHIO: JEWETT, PROCTOR, AND WO RTIII XGTO X . NEW YOUK; SHELDON, BLAKEMAN, & CO. 1856. Au^V Entered, accordmg to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by JOSEPH WILLIAM JENKS, M. A., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of Massacliusettfi. VERY, COHSniLt. THE HON. MARSHALL PINCKNEY WILDER, THE UNITED STATES ACniCULTURAL SOCIETY, IM!ESIIi::XT OF THE AMEniCAX POMOLOGICAL SOCIETV, GEXEBOUS, AND SUriESSFfL l,L LOVEIIS OF i.ND HER CULTURE I I THE FRIEND OF AGRICULTURE AND RURAL ART ; — ^inb also to THE MEMBERS GEXEKALLY 3VE-NAMED USEFUL AND HONORED NATIONAL SOCIETIES; AS TO THOSE WHO WILL BEST BEST DESERVE THE PLACE OF PATRONS ENTERPRISE, CONCEIV SPIRIT KINDRED TO THEIR OWN, ilris irolume of %m\ |0ttrn IMS AND THEIR OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVAN J. W. JEXK3. iv::255G48 |lrcf;icf. TnosE nations that have the most taste for rural pursuits must ever rank higlicst ; for tlicy have tlio greatest number of happy homes, where that individuality and strength of character may be produced which isolation among natural scenes creates and nurtures ; — homes, where dwell the virtues which make strong the foundations of a state. Now, the cultivation of rural tastes through poetry and poetic fancies, by making countiy homes more attractive, tends to render tliese home influences more powerful, by rendering them more delightful. We may instance that in such a cul- tivation, investing with correspondent forms, all charming objects of a charming cUme, lay much of the beautiful strength of the Greek character, whose impress is so strong on all European, and, of course, on our own civilization. Americans, indeed, in the absence of pictures and statues, consequent upon the newness of our surroundings, are in a manner compelled to re- sort to nature for unages of beauty which shall cultivate and perfect the taste. Nowhere, how- ever, does man less need the appliances of the pictorial and statuary ai-ts than in our own wide counti-y, where nature lavishes so much of beauty and gi-andeur. We are frequently told, that, for the sesthetic cultivation so necessary tn n Infty civilization, our countiy lacks the v™ei;il.lr niin^ nf time- honored antiquity, round whirh Unit Imllowed ideas, that enlarge humuuity by cxtuuding its life into the past of our race, and aggrandize its heart with an inheritance of the accumulated sympathies of many generations. But, in the lack of mouldering ruins, we may supply their place by hallowing with poetry the antiquities of nature, — our solemn forests of undated age, and our rocks, hoary with the mosses of primeval time. These antedate the oldest of man's mon- uments, and arc coeval with that heavenly infancy of humanity when the works of God were a suffi- cient chronology, and dates were kept, not of selfish deetls of renown, but of progi-ess in the formation of character. The people of that Golden Age raiseil no pynvmids, temples, nor towers ; they passed easily to heaven from simple tents pitched upon mountains, beside lovely springs and streams, or in forest glades, under tlie shade of whose trees they enjoyed the companionship of angels, innocent like themselves, and, like them- selves, in love with everything beautiful and good. Rural poetry should therefore be held in lienor, because it tends to heighten, purify, multiply, and exphiin, tlic associations, correspondences, or anal- iv/iv^. wlii. Ii fvrii yot, in these iron ages, give 111.- 1 i!' I III I ifi' iind language to itselcnicnts. Ivh S 'it III I' nr, each form and function, may iliu.-. lucmiir :l companion, or a lesson ; and with tliia advantage over pictures and statues, that, while the heart prone to depravity may be corrupted by them, nature has no sights nor sounds wliicli ■ m mini^tir to vice, for all her influences :in- cliMiiin.; im 1 imrifying. It was unilrr tlif iiiipiilse of such thoughts that the compiler conceived the design, a decade of years since, of bringing into one volume, in an attractive form, the chief rural poems of tlie language ; tliat thus lio midit fiiltil n part of that obligation we :nv all mil. i- t,, lr,\ i-icty better than we fouml it. SIimuM ilii- m.Iiiihc contribute to awaken, cultivate, ur giatily, tUc rural tastes of his countryiueu and countrywomen, he will not regret the time and drudgery it has cost him to collect, arrange, paragraph, and Index, these choice portions of that legacy of English literature, which is the common inheritance of the two mightiest empires of mind. A glance at the volume will explain its con- veniences. How often, in a few moments of lei- sure, snatched from the busy hours of a busy people, do wo, in t-il:!:-/ v.y -i h,.,.]; nf poetry to solace oursrlvi's nlih i i i ii ; i.:i;.'e, vainly turn over till' liMM-. i . in,' page after page, read much tluit v.u .j.n- n "! i"!', and, after an harassing search, give up the passage in de.s- p.air, as we find the halcyon moments we could abandon to its charms have forever fled ; — how often do we close the book in a disagreeable state of mind, the memory of which prevents us from soon opening its pages again ! But, in the ar- rangement (which the editor believes to be entirely original) adopted in this volume, what with the minute division into conspicuous paragraphs, ac- cording to topics, with copious and exact captions, tlie ' arguments ' hciiding each separate book or canto of a poem, and the very full index at the end, — any favorite passage, and indeetl any sought-for sentiment, name, precept, description, or allusion, may be turned to without tlic loss of a moment. We thus find with ease what we are in the mood of reading, minister at once to the good tastes we are cidtivating, and put aside the book with a sense of improvement and pleas- ure which spreads its zest over many an otherwise weary and profitless hour. .). W. .). Boston, June, 1856. Conttitts, SPRING, pp. 1—134. MAKCH, pp. 1—40. Tbouson^s Spriso, 3 — 14 Pastorals fob Mabch, 15—18 Spenser's March, an Eclofuc, 15 Gray's Vicissitude, 10 Theocritus's Daphnis (Chapman), .... 1" HfSiOD's ■Works asp Days, 19—24 RcBAt Odks for March, 25, 26 Bryant's March, 25 Bion's Evening Star (Chapman), . . . .25 Burns's Mountain Daisy, 25 Moschus's Cupid a Runaway (Chapman), . . 26 Theocritus's DistafT (Chapman), .... 26 Giv's RcRAL Sports, 27—31 TvssER's March's HrsnASOBT, 31 RCSTIC BALI-iDS FOR MaRCB, 32—34 Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne, .... 32 Drayton's Robin in Sherwood, 34 Goi.DSJirrn'3 Desertbd Tillage, .... 35—38 llvMXS OP Praise for March, 39 Bryant's Forest Hymn, 39 Merrick's Psalm 8th, 40 Milton's Morning Hymn, 40 APRIL, pp. 41—78. Bloomfield's Farmer's Bor ; Spriso, Mrs. IIul Pastorals for April, Virgil's Tityrus and Melibffius, . Herbert's Northern Spring, Meleager's Spring (Buctcminster), Armstrokg's Art of Hbaltb ; Air, KcRAL Odes for April, . Jlrs. Barbauld's Spring, Longfellow's April Day, . . 47—50 61—54 fSprii I'ercivars Spring o^ I.«ngfeIlow's .\pril, 52 ' Clare's Spring Musings, 53 Warton's April, 54 Dodslet's Aoriccltcre, 65—70 Tcsser's April's Hosbasdrv, . • . . 7 ' RcsTic Ballads for April, .... 71—74 Bloomfield's Abner and the TVidow Jones, . 71—73 Tickell's lucy and Colin, 73 Bloomfleld's Fakenhara Ghost, .... 73 Bloomfield's Rosy Hannah 74 Dyer's Rcbal Poems, 75—77 Dyer's Gronpar Hill, 75. 76 Dyer's Country Walk, 70, 77 P.SALMS OF Praise for April, 78 Mrs. Barbauld's Divine Sovereignty, ... 78 Addison's Twenty-third Psalm, .... 78 MAY, pp. 79—134. Cowpeb's Gardes (Task), . Pastorals for May, .... Aikin'sWish Moschus's Choice, .... SOMERVILLE'S MAY GAMES, . . . . . 89—100 RCRAL Odes for May, 101, 102 Percival's Reign of May, .... 101, 102 Milton's May Morning, 102 Holmes's Spring Scene, .... .102 Anacpeon's Spring, 102 , Dryden's Emily a-Maying, 102 ' RiHSAT's Oektle Shephbrd 103—123 BrSTio Ballads, &c., for Mat, . . . 129, 130 Graves's Ballad to the Birds 129 Breton's Phillidn and Corydon, .... 129 Bloomfleld's Lucy, 129, 130 Street's Early Garden, 130 Heywood's Shepherd's Sang, 130 Forest Walk in Spring, . . 131—133 'dsser's May's Hdsbasdrv, 133 'SALMs OP Praise tor Mat, 134 Pope's Universal Prayer, 134 Addison's Nineteenth PsaUn, . . . 134 SUMMER, JUNE, pp. 135—192. Thomsos's Scmmee Pastorals for June, . Cunningham's Day, . Shenstone's Hope, Otway's Morning, Browse's Bbitassia's Pastorals (e HAL Odes for Jone, . Warton's Hamlet, . Bryant's Song of Wooing, Dawes's Spirit of Beauty, Motherwell's Summer Months, Mason's E.nglish Gardes, . Tcsser's Jcne's Hcsbandrt, RnsTio Ballads for Jitse, . The Children in the Wood, . Lady Barnard's Auld Rubin Gray Lyttelton's Progress of Love, Uncertainty, .... Jealousy, Psalms of Praise for June, Pope's Messiah, . Quarles's Delight in God, Ilerriok's Thanksgiving, . JULY, pp. 193—244. Bloomfield's Farmer's Bot ; Scmmeb, . . 193—197 Pastoral fob Jclt, Pope's Summer, 198 Ar.mstbong's Art of Health ; Diet, . . 193—204 Tl'SSbb's July's IIcsbandry, 204 Rural Odes for Jclt, 205, 206 Bryant's After a Tempest, 205 Rogers's Rural Retreat, . . . . . .205 pp. 135—296. Longfellow's Angler's Song, .... 205, 206 Drayton's Bouquet, 206 Bryant's Summer Wind, 206 Virgil's Georgics, 207-236 Elegy and Ballad for July, .... 2S7. 238 Gray's Elegy, 237 Bloomfield's Dolly, 2:S Milton's Rural Poems, 239 — 243 L'AUegro 239, 240 II Penseroso 240, 241 Lycidas, 241—243 Rhymed Lessons fob Jclt, Emerson's Wood-Notes, 244 Yaughan's Early Rising and Prayer, . . . 244 AUGUST, pp. 245—206. CowpER's Sofa (Task), 245—262 Pastobals for Augitst, 253, 254 Theocritus's Singers of Pastorals, . . . 243, 254 Parnell's Health, 254 Crabbe's Village, 255—260 Rural Odes for August, 261. 262 Bryant's Rivulet, . . ... . . .261 Street's August, 262 Anacreon's Grasshopper (CuwIeyJ, ... 262 Clare's Summer Insects, 262 ■Delille's COU.NTRY Gentleman, .... 263-289 Rustic Ballads foe August, Hood's Ruth, 290 Bloomfield's Gleaner's Song, 290 Collins's Fidele's Tomb, 290 Cowper's Shrubbery, 290 Pope's Windsor Forest, . . . ... 291—295 Tusser's August's Husbandry, 295 Psalms of Praise foe August, Beattie's Hei-mit, 296 Pope's Universal Order, 296 On the Deity, 296 AUTUMN, pp. 297—394. SEPTEMBER, pp. 2117— USO. Thomson's Aitcms, 297— ilO Tdsser's Septkmbkh's IIi-sdasdry 310 Pastorals for SBrreMBER, BrowDe'9 Britannia's Pastorals (extracts), Crabbe'3 PABisn Reoistbr ; Baptisms, S11-4J14 316—322 BCRAL Odes Foa Sei'tember, .... 323, 3i4 Lloyd's Country Box, 323 Clieetham's Happy Mean, 324 Rogers's Italian Cot, 324 Coleridge's Domestic Peace, 324 Clare's Brokes Heart, 325—327 RcsTic Ballad for September, Bloomtteld's Uorkcy, or Harvest Home, . 328, 329 Psalm and Lessons for September, .... Quarles's (Ps. 42 : 2) Longing to See God, . . 330 Pope's Mutual Dependence, 330 Gruhamc's Cliristian Sabbath 330 OCTOBER, pp. 331—358. Bloomfield's Farmer's Bov ; Actumx, Pastoral for AccrsT Ramsay's Richy and Sandy, Armstrong's Art of Prkservin( I'xercise, . . . , RcRAL Odes for October, . Longfellow's Autumn, Heal Bryant's Autumn Woods, .... Longfellow's Autumnal Nightfall, . SOMERVlLLE'a CnASE (abridqed), RcsTic Ballads for October, .... Whittier's Huskers, Hood's Season, Miss Elliot's Flowers of the Forest, . Psalm and Hymns for October, .... Quarles's (Psalm 42 : 1) Longing after God, Jones's Autumnal Hymn, .... Young's Immortality, 343, 3U . 344 345-355 NOVEMBER, pp. 359—394. Cowter's Retirement (Table Talk), Pastorals for November, . Burns'3 Cotter's Saturday Night, . Fletcher's (J.) Shepherd's Eve, . Crabbe's Parish Reoister : Marriagi C42l 337—0, 3-13,34-1 Odes for Novkmber, . , . . Hood*3 Autumn, .... llerrick's Farmer, .... Bryant's Sonnet for November, PlULIPS'S CiDEB, TrssBR's November's Husbandry, Ballad fob November, .... Crabbe's Gypsy, or the Hall of Justk Psalm of Praise for November, Lon^'fellow's Thanksgiving, . WINTER, pp. 395-515. DECEJIBER, pp. 395—443. Thomson's TVinter, 305 — 105 Pastorals for December, . Shenstone's Absence, Shenstone's Disappointment, . Crabbe's Parish Reoister ; Bcrials, Rural Odes for December, First of December, .... Bead's Stranger on the Door-Sill, . Grainger's Scoar-Cane, Tcssbr's December's HcsBASDRy, Ballads i Bloomfield's Market-Night, . Happy Fireside, Hymn of Praise for December, Milton's Christmas Hymn (abridged), J.VNU.VRY, pp. 445—406. Bloomfield's Farmer'sB TrssEE's Jaxcabt's Hcsd Pastoral for .Tascarv, Virgil's Melibtcus, . Arsistrong'3 Art of Health ; the Passion; KuRAL Ode for January, Winter, by W. Jenk3, D.D., . Cowper's TVister Kvening (Task), Ballad for Jancaet, . . . Hamilton's Braes of Yarrow, Hymn of Praise for January, . Coleridgc'3 Mont Blanc, . FEBRUARY, pp. 467— 51-J. Cowper's Winter Walks (Task), Winter Morning Walli, . Winter Wall£ at Noon, . TdSSER'S rEBBUARY'S HUSBANDRY, .... 486 Pastorals for Pebbuary, 487,488 Browne's Respect to Age, .... 487,488 Fletcher's (P.) Shepherd's Life, .... 488 Dyer's Fleece (Three Books), .... 489—509 RCBAL Ode and Description for Februaby, Greene's Shepherd and his Wife 510 Milton's Garden of Eden 610 Shenstone's Schoolmisteess 611—613 Ballads for February, Longfellow's VUlage Blacksmith, .... 514 My Father, 614 Concluding Hymn of Praise Thomson's Hymn of the Seasons, . . . 514,615 tisi of ^Illustrations. Frontispiece : Nature, the Alma JIater ; Beneath, a Cartoon kepeesexting Medita- tion AND Action. Title-page : The Seasons Personified, and their ever-changinq Circuit. March, its Rural Employments and Pleas- ures 3 April, its Rural Kmplovuenis and Pleas- ures, 41 View of Shenstonf.'s Cottage, the Leasowes, AT Uales-Owen, Shropshire, England, . . 50 May, ITS Rural Employments and Pleas- ures, 79 View of Co^vpee's Birth-place, at Berkuam- stead, Hertfordshire, England, .... 87 View of Thomson's Cottage, Kew-lane, near Richmond, Cou.vtv of Surrey, Eng., ... 100 View of Ramsay's Lodge, near Edinburgh, AND the Scenes of the 'Gentle Shepherd,' I'iS June, its Rural Occupations and Pleas- ures, 135 View of IIagley Park, the Residence of Lord Lyttelton ; and frequently the Abode of Thomson, 190 July, its Rural Occupations and Pleas- ures, 193 Page View of Austin (Ecston) Farm, the Residence OF Bloomfield as a Farmer's Boy, ... 107 View of Milton's Cottage, at Chalfont, . . 24:! August, its Rural Occupations and Enjoy- View of Gray's Tomb and Stoke Church and Cuurch-yaed, the Locality op Gray's ' Elegy,' 2C0 September, its Products ; Hop-pickixg ; tim: Chase 2'j7 October, its Employments and Amusements, . 331 View of Longfellow's Residence, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 314 November ; Felling Tisider, 359 View op Crabbe's Bikth-place, Aldborouoh, . 374 View op Bryant's Residence, Roslyn, Long Island, New York, 37G December, its Snow and Christmas Cueeu, . 395 January ; the Winter Farm-yard, .... 415 February ; Hauling Wood, 407 View of the Cottage of Suenstone's School- Mistress, at Hales-Owen, Shropshire, WHERE ShENSTONE RECEIVED THE RUDIMENTS OF HIS Education 513 |iurat |1octr THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. SPRING-MARCH 'iLl}( J^irst of tijc g^casoiis. THOMSON'S "SPRING." The suhjpct prnpn!;ni. Tn=:cribp,l ISVOCATIOS TO SPRIS'G. Come, gentle Spring ! ethereal mildness ! co And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, While music wakes around, veiled in a shower Of sliadowing roses, on our plains descend. Hertford' ! fitted or to shine in courts With unaffected grace, or walk the plain With innocence and meditation joined In soft assemblage, listen to my song, Which thy own season paints, when Nature all Is blooming and benevolent, like thee. 1 The Countess of Hertford, a patroness of poetry, had invited the poet to her residence, and during; his visit he "le dedicated his " Summer " to her j a And see where surly Winter passes off, Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts : His blasts obey, and quit the howling liill. The shattered forest, and the ravaged vale ; \Vhile softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, Iiissolving snows in livid torrents lost, The mountains lift their green heads to the sky. As yet the trembling year is unconfirmed. And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze. Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets Dcfirii] tlie ilay ilclightlcss ; so that scarce Th,. l.itt.rn knnws his time, with bill ingulfed, To .-^iKikr thr snuivling marsh ; or from the shore The plovuia when tu scatter o'er the heath. And sing their wild notes to the listening waste. EFFECTS op BETCRSINQ WARUTH. — PLOCGUIXG ; SOWING. At last from Aries rolls the boanteous sun. And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more The expansive atmosphere is -cramped with cold ; But, full of life and vivifying soul, Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin. Fleecy, and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven. Forth fly the tepid airs ; and unconfincd, EUEAL POETRY. — THOMSON. Unbinding eaitli, the moving softness strays. Joyous, tlie impatient husbandman perceives Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers Drives from their stalls, to where the well-used plough Lies in the furrow, loosened from the frost. There, unrefusing, to the harnessed yoke Tlicy lend their shoulder, and begin their toil. Cheered by the simple song and soaring lark. Jleanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share The master loans, removes the obstructing clay. Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe. While through the neighboring fields the sower stalks With measured step, and, liberal, throws the grain Into the faithful bosom of the ground : The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene. POWERS OF NATURE. ■ - FARMING A SITB- Be gracious, Heaven ! for now laborious man Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow ! Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend ! And temper all, thou world-reviving sun. Into the perfect year ! Jfor ye who live In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride, Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear : Such themes as these the rural Maro' sung To wide-imperial Rome, in the full height Of elegance and taste, by Greece refined. In ancient times the sacred plough employed The kings and awful fathers of mankind ; And some, with whom compared your insect-tribes Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the scale of craiiire. ruled the storm Of mighty war ; then, with unwearied hand. Disdaining little delicacies, seized The plough, and greatly independent lived. Ye generous Britons, venerate the plough ! And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales, Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun. Luxuriant and unbounded. As the sea. Far through his azure, turbulent domain, Your empire owns, and from a thousand shores Wafts all the pomp of life into your ports. So with superior boon may your rich soil. Exuberant, Nature's better blessings pour O'er every land, the naked nations clothe. And be the exhaustless granary of a world ! Nor only through the lenient air this change, Delicious, breathes ; the penetrative sun. His force deep-darting to the dark retreat Of vegetation, sets the steaming power At large, to wander o'er the verdant earth. In various hues ; but chiefly thee, gay green ! Thou smiling Nature's universal robe ! United light and shade ! where the sight dwells With growing strength, and , whence The fabling poets ln>,l-: Ihrli -mMih :i :>■. Are fol^nd no morr :i!iii'l lii' -■■ ii'ii liinr-. These dregs of life ! ]Hiiv tlir dM.'ini.riva mind Has lost that concord of iiarmonious powers Which forms the soul of happiness ; and all Is off the poise within : the passions all Have burst their bounds ; and reason, half extinct. Or impotent, or else approving, sees The foul disorder. Senseless and deformed, Convulsive anger storms at large ; or, pale And silent, settles into ftU Vevenge. Base envy withers at another's joy. And hates that excellence it cannot reach. Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full. Weak and unmanly, loosens every power. E'en love itself is bitterness of soul, A pensive anguish pining at the heart ; Or, sunk to sordid interest, feels no more That noble wish, that never-cloyed desire. Which, selfish joy disdaining, seeks alone To bless the dearer object of its flame. Hope sickens with extravagance ; and grief, Of life impatient, into madness swells. Or in dead silence wastes the weeping hours. VARIOUS CURSES BORN OF These, and a thousand mixed From ever-changing views of good and ill, Formed infinitely various, vex the mind With endless storm : whence, deeply rankling, grows The partial thought, a listless unconcern. Cold, and averting from our neighbor's good ; Then dark disgust, and hatred, winding wiles. Coward deceit, and ruflian violence : At last, extinct each social feeling, fell And joyless inhumanity pervades And petrifies the heart. Nature disturbed Is deemed, vindictive, to have changed her course. Hence, in old dusky time, a deluge came : When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arched The central waters round, impetuous rushed. With universal burst, into the gulf, And o'er the high-piled hills of fractured earth Wide dashed the waves, in undulation vast : Till, from tlio centre to the streaming clouds, A shoreless ocean tumbled round the globe. The seasons since have, with severer sway, Oppressed a broken world. The Winter keen Shook forth his waste of snows ; and Summer shot His pestilential heats. Great Spring, before. Greened all the year, and fruits and blossoms blushed, In social sweetness, on the self-same bough. Pure was the temperate air ; an even calm Perpetual reigned, save that the zephyrs bland Breathed o'er the blue expanse ; for then nor storms Were taught to blow, nor hurricanes to rage ; Sound slept the waters ; no sulphureous glooms Swelled in the sky, and sent the lightning forth ; While sickly damps and cold autumnal fogs Hung not, relaxing, on the springs of life. But now, of turbid elements the sport, From clear to cloudy tossed, from hot to cold. And dry to moist, with inward-eating change. Our drooping days are dwindled down to naught. Their period finished ere 'tis well begun. THE EATING OF ANIMAL FOOD BY MAN REPROBATED } PLEA AGAINST THE SLACGHTER OF SHEEP AND CATTLE FOR FOOD. — rVTUAGOHAS. And 3'et the wholesome herb neglected dies ; Though with the pure exhilarating soul Of nutriment and health and vital powers, Beyond the search of art, 't is copious blest. For, with holf ravine fired, ensanguined man Is now become the lion of the plain, And worse. The wolf, who from the nightly fold Fierce drags the bleating prey, ne'er drank her milk. Nor wore bur wanuiii'; (Icece ; nor has the steer, .•\t wl]"-r -tt.-n- . Ii. -I ili,> deadly tiger hangs. E'er pliii ! ; : i i i' 111' y too are tempered high, Witli Inn ■ ■ n . 1 , « i Id necessity , Nor ludguj i^;i\ ui iLlh _-baggy breast. But man, whom Nature formed of milder clay. With every kind emotion in his heart, And taught alone to weep ; while from her lap She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs, And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain. Or beams that gave them birth — shall he, fairform! Who wears sweet sidtI'--. ;tnd !m(,1-:j erect on heaven, I ! • I'cast of prey, !• I il; liut you, ye flocks, .'iiofful people, what, To merit death ? you, who have given us milk In luscious streams, and lent us your own coat Against the Winter's cold ? and the plain ox, That harmless, honest, guileless animal. In what has he offended ? he, whose toil. Patient and ever ready, clothes the land With all the pomp of harvest ; shall he bleed. And struggling groan beneath the cruel bauds E'en of the clown he feeds ? and that, perhaps. To swell the riot of the autumnal feast. Won by his labor ? Thus the feeling heart Would tenderly suggest : but 't is enough. In this late age, adventurous, to have tbuchcd Light on the numbers of the Samian sage.^ High Heaven forliids the bold, presumptuous strain, Whose wisest will has fixed us in a state That must not yet to pure perfection rise. Which, by rapacious hunger swallowed deep. Gives, as you tear it from the bleedmg breiL-t Of the weak, helpless, uncomplaining wreteli. Harsh pain and horror to the tender hand. HOW.— SMALL : I THE WATER. E er stoop to mm: And dip his toii;;ii Blood-stained, di-,- What have vou do I Vrken with his lively ray the potent sun ' Has pierced the streams, and roused the finny race, [ Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair ; j Chief should the western breezes curling play. And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds. I High to their fount, tliis day, amid the hills, I And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks; The next, pursue their rocky-channelled maze, Dovra to the river, in whose ample wave 1 The little naiads love to sport at large. .Just in the dubious point, where with the pool j Is mixed the trembling stream, or where it boils I Around the stone, or from the hollowed bank Reverted plays in undulating flow — There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly ; And, as you lead it round in artful cun-e. With eye attentive mark the springing game. Straight as above the surface of the flood They wanton rise, or urged by hunger leap. Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook ; Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, With various hand proportioned to their force. If yet too young, and easily deceived, A worthless prey soaroo bends your pliant rod. Him, piteous of his youth and the short space He has enjoyed the vital light of heaven. Soft disengage, and back into the stream The speckled captive throw. Now, when the first foul torrent of the brooks Swelled with the vernal rains, is ebbed away ; And, whitening, down their mossy-tinctured stream Descends the billowy foam — now is the time. While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile. To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly. The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring, Snatched from the hoary steed the floating line. And all thy slender, watery stores prepare. But let not on thy hook the tortured worm, Convulsive, twist in agonizing folds ; But should you lure From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots Of pendent trees, the monarch of the brook. Behoves you then to ply your finest art. Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly ; And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun Passes a cloud, he, desperate, takes the death, With sullen plunge. At once he darta along. Deep struck, and runs out all the lengthened line ; Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed. The cavcrned bank, his old secure abode ; And flics aloft, and flounces round the poid. Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand. That feels him still, yet to his furious course Gives way, you, now retiring, following now, Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage ; Till floating broad upon his breathless side, And to his &t« abandoned, to the shore You gayly drag your unresisting prize. RURAL POETRY. Thus pass the temperate hours ; but when the si Shakes from his noon-day throne the scatterir clouds. E'en shooting listless languor through the deeps, Then seek the bank where flowering elders crowd, Where scattered wild the lily of the vale Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang The dewy head, where purple violets lurk, With all the lowly children of the shade : Or lie reclined beneath yon spreading ash, Hung o'er the steep ; whence, borne on liquid win The sounding culver shoots ; or where the hawk. High, in the beetling cliff, his eyry builds. There let the classic page thy fancy lead Through rur.al scenes, such as the Mantuan swain Paints in the matchless harmony of song ; Orcat.-h |i i^.iri',. 1 1-:,].., '-IMiiig swift Athwail , -_i i - Orby tl,> ' : , I . , hilled, AndlM.t II, I. -11. 1., iiiiinn,,,. Ill I'l-' .hvam. Confused, of careless solitude, where mix Ten thousand wandering images of things, "Soothe every gust of passion into peace ; All but the swellings of the scftened heart. That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. I the Muse I can paint i skill, Behold yon bretitliini; prn Throw .all her beii\itv Iniih. Like Nature? Can iiuaiin: Amidst its gay evcatiMH. Imi Or can it mix them iviil, il,i And lose them in r-irl, , ihrr, ii. iqipfars In every bud that bluwa ? It laiicy, then, Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task, Ah, whiit shall language do ? ah, where find words TingeM I i . I.n. II Those hii.h. .Iriii,,,,-, tliiii .|>. ; , , , Where, Ullh llir imiil nl la, i._. : . Shines lively laliey aud thu U.rlin^ li. a.l 0, come ! and while the rosy-footed May Steals blushing on, together let us tread e was a native of Mantua, i(p), in classic mytholoiry, )f .iupitcr, and namet] Eu- leypersonilied beauty, taste, The morning dews, and gather in their prime Fresh-blooming flowers,' to grace thy braided ha And thy loved bosom that improves their sweets See, where the winding vale its lavish stores Irriguous spreads. See, how the lily drinks The latent rill, scarce oozing through the grass Of growth luxuriant ; or the humid bank. In fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, Where the breeze blows from yon extended field Of blossomed beans. Arabia cannot boast A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence [soul. Breathes through the sense, and takes the ravished Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot. Full of fresh verdure and unnumbered flowers. The negligence of Nature, wide, and wild ; Where, undisguised by mimic Art, she spreads Unbounded beauty to the roving eye. Here their delicious task the fervent bees, In swarming millions, tend ; around, athwart. Through the soft air, the busy nations fly. Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube. Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul ; And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows. And, yellow, load them with the luscious spoil. THE GARDEN IS SPRING. — THE BOWERY WALK THE At length the finished garden to the view Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. Snatched through the verdant maze the hurried eye Distracted wanders ; now the bowery walk Of covert close, where scarce a speck of day Falls on the lengthened gloom, protracted sweeps ; Now meets the bendinjj; s!;litliaing spire, The ethereal mountain, and the distant main. But why so far excursive ? when at hand, Along these blushing borders, bright with dew, And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers. Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace ; Throws out the snow-drop and the crocus first ; The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, And polyanthus of unnumbered dyes ; The yellow wall-flower, stained with iron brown ; And lavish stock that scents the garden round. From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed. Anemones : auriculas, enriched With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves ; And full ranunculus, of glowing red. Then comes the tulip-race, where Beauty plays Her idle freaks ; from family diffused To family, as flics the father-dust. The varied colors run ; and, while they break SPRING — MARCH. On the charmed eye, the exulting florist marks, With secret prido, the wonders of his hand. No gradual bloom is wanting ; from the bud, First-bom of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes : Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, Low bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils, Of potent fragrance ; nor Narcissus' fair. As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still ; Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks ; Nor, showered from every bush, the damask-rose. Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, With hues on hues expression cannot paint. The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom. ASCRIPTION OP PRAISE TO THE ACTHOR OF NATURE. — THE Hail, Source of Being ! Universal Soul Of heaven and earth ! Essential Presence, hail ! To Thee I bend the knee ; to Thee my thoughts Continual climb ; who, with a master hand, Hast the great whole into perfection touched. By Thee the various vcgetiitive tribes. Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves. Draw the live ether and imbibe the dew ; By Thee disposed into congenial soils Stands each attractive plant, and sucks and swells The juicy tide, a twining mass of tubes. At thy command the vernal sun awakes The torpid sap, detruded to the root By wintry winds, that now in fluent dance. And lively fermenttition, mounting, spreads All this innumerous-colored scene of things. THE ANIMAL WORLD J ITS VARIED VOICES OF LOVE. — THE As rising from the vegetable world My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend. My panting Muse ! and hark, how loud the woods Invito you forth in all your gayest trim. Lend me your song, ye nightingales ! 0, pour The mazy-running soul of melody Into my varied verse ! while I deduce. From the fii-st note the hollow cuckoo sings. The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme Unknown to fame — the Passion of the Groves. — l...VK-SiiN(.s OF THE LARK ; THRUSH j \fhca first the soul of love i I'arm thrcn^h the vital nir, a At lir-t laiiii-iv:ii M-l , liiii ii'i iH-r grows The soft iufusiuu pruvaloiit and wide. Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows In music imconfined. Up springs the lark, • A benutiful youth, who, in punishment fnr his indiffer- ence to love, was futilLHl to have been caused to become ennmored of tiis own iinjijie reflected in a spring ; and after pinnlg to death fur luve of it, to have been chanped into the pensile flower which bears his name Shrill-voiced and loud, the messenger of morn ; Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush Bending with dewy moisture o'er the heads Of the coy choristers that lodge within. Are prodigal of harmony. The thruFh And wood-lark, o'er tli. llnl ..,,;. , liu' throng Superior heard, run tin I i Ivngth Of notes; when listens _ i'. - i i„-iis To let them joy, and |iin|. - , im !|i i^lit Elate, to make her night c.\cel their Jay. The black-bird whistles from the thorny brake ; The mellow bulfinch answers from the grove ; Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze Poured out profusely, silent. Joined to these, Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw. And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone. Aid the full concert ; while the stock-dove breathes A melancholy murmur through the whole. COURTSHIP OF BIRBS. 'T is love creates their melody, and all Tliis waste of music is the voice of love, Th.it e'en to birds and beasts the tender arts Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind Try every winning way inventive love Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates Pour forth their little souls. First, wide around. With distant awe. in airy rings they rove, Their colors burnish, and by hopu inspired. They brisk advance ; then, on a sudden struck. Retire disordered ; then again approach ; In fond rotation spread the spotted wing. And shiver every feather with desire. THE BCILDINO OF NESTS. — THE VARIOUS PLACES CHOSEH Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods They haste away, all as their fancy leads, Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts — That Nature's great command may be obeyed, Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive Indulged in vain. Some to the holly-hedgo Nestling repair, and to the thicket some ; Some to the rude protection of the thorn Commit their feeble oTspring. The cleft tree O.Ters its kind concealment to a few. Their food its insoeti, and its moss their nests. Others apart, far in the grassy dale, Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. But most in woodland solitudes delight, brotJicr-ln-lnw, was fabled to have because Philomela, the bflnj: dishonored by her changed into this RURAL POETRY. In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks, Steep, aiKl .livldcd ],y ;i l.;.liblin- i.runk, "Whose niuMimr- .-n'i|ln> tlidn all tin.' live-long day, When l.y knid duly li.xr<|- Ai„m,- the roots Of hazel, \n-udvui uVr tiie iiiainlive stream. They frame the first foundation of their domes ; Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid, And bound with clay together. Now 't is naught But restless hurry through the busy air, Beat by unnumbered wings. The swallow sweeps The slimy pool, to build his hanging house Intent. And often, from the careless back Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills Pluck hair and wool ; and oft, when unobserved. Steal from the barn a straw ; till, soft and warm, Clean and complete, their habitation grows. As thus the patient dam assiduous sits, ot to be tempted from her tender task Or by sharp hunger, or by smooth delight. Tho Her s\ High. I Spring around her blo^ ikes his stand ik, and ceaseless sings r else supplies To pick the scanty meal. The appointed time With pious toil fulfilled, the callow young, Warmed and expanded into perfect life, Their brittle bondage break, and come to light, A helpless family, demanding food With constant clamor. what passions then, What melting sentiments of kindly care, On the new parents seize ! Away they fly Affectionate, and undesiring bear The most delicious morsel to their young ; Which equally distributed, again The search begins. Even so a gentle pair, By fortune sunk, but formed of generous mould. And charmed with cares beyond the vulgar breast. In some lone cot, amid the distant woods, Sustained alone by providential Heaven, Oft, as they weeping eye their infant train. Check their own appetites, and give them all. Nor toil alone they scorn ; exalting love, By the great Father of the Spring inspired. Gives instant courage to the fearful race. And to the simple, art. With stealthy wing. Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest. Amid a neighboring bush they silent drop. And whirring thence, as if alarmed, deceive The unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head Of wandering swain, tin' \\liit(-\\in,L;vd ploverwheels Her sounding fli.L-lit, ami linn dinrily on To tempt him fn.m Ikt m.-t. i'lm wild duck hence, O'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless waste Tho heath-hen, flutters, pious fraud I to lead The hot-pursuing spaniel far astray. THE CAGING OP Bl Be not the Muse ashamed here to bemoan Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant Man Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage From liberty confined, and boundless air. Dull are the pretty slaves, their plumage dull. Ragged, and all its brightening lustre lost ; Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes, Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech. 0, then, ye friends of love and love-taught song. Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear, If on your bosom innocence can win, Music engage, or piety persuade ! THE bird's nest BOBBED. — GRIEF OF THE PARENT BIRDS. But let not chief the nightingale lament Her mined care, too delicately framed To brook the harsh confinement of the cage. Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, The astonished mother finds a vacant nest, By the bard hand of unrelenting elowns Robbed, to the ground the vain provision falls ; Her pinions ruffle, and, low-drooping, scarce Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade ; Where, all abandoned to despair, she sings Her sorrows through the night ; and, on the bough. Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall Takes up again her lamentable strain Of winding woe ; till, wide around, the woods Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound. But now the feathered youth their former bounds. Ardent, disdain ; and, weighing oft their wings, Demand the free possession of the sky ; This one glad office more, and then dissolves Parental love at once, now needless grown ; Unlavish Wisdom never works in vain. 'T is on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild, [woods, AVhen naught but balm is breathing through the With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad On Nature's common, far as they can see. Or wing, their range and pasture. O'er the boughs Dancing about, still at the giddy verge Their resolution fails ; their pinions still. In loose libration stretched, to trast the void Trembling refuse ; till down before them fly The parent guides, and chide, exhort, command, Or push them off. The surging air receives Its plumy burdou ; and their self-tauixht wings Roused into life and action, light in air The acquitted parents see their soaring race, And once rejoicing never know them more. High from the summit of a craggy cliff, Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns SPRING — MARCH. Oq utmost Kilda'ai shore, whose lonely raco Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds, The royal eagle draws his vigorous young. Strong-pounced, and ardent with paternal firo. Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, He drives them from his fort, the towering seat, For ages, of his empire ; which, in peace, Unstained he holds, while many a league to sea Ko wings his course, and preys in distant isles. THE rOrXO OF Tira POCLTRT-TABD. — THE ROOK ; HEX i Should I my fir\>< tmti t^. t!i<' rural seat, ■\Vhoso lofty elms, :i 111 vhrmLi. >,;iks, Invito the rook, \\\\^' ln-h :iiiiil 111. I n -Ins of the foaming deep : From rip W. r|, ,,./> ;ujd gelid cavern roused, Thoy tlniiiH-- aiLii tiiiiiljlu in unwieldy joy. Dire were the strain, aud dissonant, to sing The cruel raptures of the savage kind ; How, by this flame their native wrath sublimed. They roam, amid the fury of their.heart, The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands. And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme I sing, enraptured, to tho British Fair, Forbids, and leads me to the mountain brow. Where sits the shepherd on the grassy turf. Inhaling, healthful, the descending sun. Around him feeds his many-bleating flock. Of various cadence ; and his sportive lambs, This way and that convolved, in friskful glee, Their frolics play. And now the sprightly race Invites them forth ; when swift, the signal given. They start away, and sweep the massy mound That runs around the hill ; the rampart once Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times, M'hen disunited Britain ever bled. Lost in eternal broil : ere yet she grew To this deep-laid indissoluble state, Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden heads ; And o'er our labors Liberty and Law, Impartial, watch ; tho wonder of a world ! CREATIVt: I.OVE. — INSTINCT. —SPRING, THE SMILE OF COD. What is this mighty breath, ye sages, say, That, in a powerful language, felt, not heard, Instructs the fowls of heaven, and through their breast These arts of love diffuses ? What, but God ? Inspiring God ! who, boundless Spirit all, And unremitting Energy, per^-ades. Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. He ceaseless works alone ; and yet alone Seems not to work : with such perfection framed Is this complex, stupendous scheme of things. But, though (^ncealed, to every purer eye The informing Author in his works appears : Chief, lovely Spring ! in thee, and thy soft scenes, The smiling God is seen ; while water, earth, And air attest his bounty ; which exalts The brute creation to this finer thought. KURAL POETRY. And, annual, molts their undesigning hearts Profusely thus in tenderness and joy. Still let my song a nobler note assume, And sing the infusive force of Spring on Man ; When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie To raise his being, and serene his soul. Can ho forbear to jniii i'.f ^.tucihI smilo Of Nature? Can ti. m ,. |,;, ..„.,,- >,a his breast, While every gale is i-.- , ;mm1 .--i y ,i;rove Is melody? Hcucu I lium thu Ijvunti'uus walks Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of earth, Hard, and unfeeling of anothei-'s woe, Or only lavish to yourselves, away ! But come, ye generous minds, in whose wide thought, Of all liis works, creative Bounty burns ^Vitll warmest iK-ain ; and on your open front And liberal eye sits, from his dark retreat Inviting modest Want. Nor, till invoked. Can restless Goodness wait ; your active search Leaves no cold wintry corner unexplored ; l;luwa fpiiug abroad ; for you the teeming clouds Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world ; And the sun sheds his kindest rays for you. Ye flower of Human Race ! In these green days. Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head ; Life flows afresh ; and young-eyed Health exalts The whole creation round. Contentment walks The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings To purchase. Pure serenity apace Induces tliciu;j;ht and contemplation still. By switi 'l> ^M ' ' i!m I \ , ..f Nature works. And \\:ii I' I 1 1 1 1 at last sublimed To ra|iiir, . ,,! . 1,1 i.ii r-ii,- heat. We feel t!iL |iii,.-ei.i Ikity, and taste ■■IV of Uou to see a happy world ! These are the sacred feelings of thy heart. Thy heart informed by reason's purer ray, Lyttelton,' the friend ! thy passions thus And meditations vary, as at large, [stray'st ; Coui'ting the Muse, through Hagley Park thou Thy Brii.. Tempe 2 ! There, alons; the dale 1 George. Lord Lyttelton, -III' I - ! ~ii I' ini^. Rnr- With woods o'erhung and shagged with mossy rocks, Whence on each hand the gushing waters play. And down the rough cascade white-dashing fall. Or gleam in lengthened vista through the trees. You silent steal ; or sit beneath the shade Of solemn oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand. And, pensive, listen to the various voice Of rural peace ; the herds, and flocks, the birds. The hollow-wliispering breeze, the plaint of rills. That, purling down amid the twisted roots Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shako On the soothed ear. From these abstracted oft. You wander through the philosophic world, Where in bright train continual wonders rise Or to the curious or the pious eye. And oft, conducted by historic truth. You tread the long extent of backward time ; Planning, with warm benevolence of mind And honest zeal unwarped by party rage, Britannia's weal ; how from the venal gulf To raise her virtue, and her arts revive. Or, turning thence thy view, these .graver thoughts The Muses charm ; while, with sure taste refined, You draw the inspiring breath of ancient song. Till nobly rises, emulous, thy own. Perhaps thy loved Lucinda shares thy walk. With soul to thine attuned. Then Nature all Wears to the lover's eye a look of love ; And all the tumult of a guilty world, Tossed by ungenerous passions, sinks away. The tender heart is animated peace ; And as it pours its copious treasures forth In varied converse, softening every theme, You, frequent-pausing, turn, and from her eyes, Where meekened sense and amiable grace And lively sweetness dwell, enraptured, drink That nameless spirit of ethereal joy, Unutterable happiness ! which love Alone bestows, and on a favored few. THE PROSPECT AT HiCLET PiBK. Meantime you gain the height from whose fair brow The bursting prospect spreads, immense, around : And snatched o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn. And verdant field, and darkening heath between. And villages embosomed soft in trees. And spiry towns by surging columns marked Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams : Wide-stretching from the hall, in whose kind haunt The Hospitable Genius lingers still. To where the broken landscape, by degrees Ascending, roughens into rigid hills ; O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise. THE MAmEN IN SPKISG. — EFFECTS OF LOVE. — WA Flushed by the spirit of the genial year. Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom SPRING — MARCH. 13 Shoots, loss and loss, tho livo carnation round j Her lips blush deeper sweets : she breathes of youth ; Tlie shining moisture swells into her eyes, In brighter flow ; her wishing bosom heaves With palpitations wild ; kind tumults seize Uer veins, and all her yielding soul is love. From tho keen gaze her lover turns away, Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick M'ith sighing languishmcnt. Ah, then, yo fair ! Bo greatly cautious of your sliding hearts : Dare not tho infectious sigh, the pleading look. Downcast and low, in meek submission dressed, But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue. Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth. Gain on your purposed will. Nor in tho bower, AVhcro woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch. While Evening draws her crimson curtains round, Trust your soft minutes with betraying man. Yonrn waksed from lawless lovk. — its e.\brv.itu.o And let tho aspiring youth beware of love. Of tho smooth glance beware ; for 't is too late When on his heart tho torrent-softness pours. Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame Dissolves in air away ; while the fond soul, Wrapped in gay visions of unreal bliss. Still paints the illusive form ; the kindling grace ; The enticing smile ; the modest seeming eye. Beneath whose beauteous bcanit!, belying heaven, Lurk scarehless cunning, cruelty, and death ; And still, falsc-warbling in his cheated ear, Her sirt.-ii \ li . I ti i'laijiiiLr. draws him on Toguil.ln! , ..is of fatal joy. E'en] 1 : . , i . ■...^ l;ipofl.:.vc Ingloriiiii- 1... I , V. 111].' ii..i'i.. Hows around, Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours ; Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears Her snaky crest : a quick-returning pang [still Shoots through the conscious heart ; where honor And great design, against the oppressive load Of luxury, by fits, impatient heave. But absent, what fantastic woes, aroused. Rage in each thought, by restless musing fed, Chill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of life ! Neglected fortune flies ; and, sliding swift. Prone into ruin fall his scorned affairs. 'T is naught but gloom around ; tho darkened sun Loses his light ; the rosy-bosomed Spring To weeping fancy pines ; and yon bright arch. Contracted, bends into a dusky vault. All Nature fiwlcs extinct ; and she alone. Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought. Fills every sense, and pants in every vein. Books are but fonnal dulness, tedious friends ; And sad amid tho social band he sits. Lonely, and unattcntivc. From his tongue Tho unfinished period falls : while, borne away On swelling thought, his waflod spirit flies To the vain bosom of his distant fair ; And leaves the semblance of a lover, fixed In melancholy site, with head declined. And love-dojeeted eyes. Sudden he starts. Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs To glimmering shades and sympathetic glooms ; Where tho dun umbrage o'er the falling stream. Romantic, hangs ; there through the pensive dusk Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation lost, Indulging all to love : or on the bank Thrown, amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. Thus in soft anguish ho consumes the day. Nor quits his deep retirement, till the moon Peeps throH^h the chambei-s of the fleecy cast, EnliL'l.t. H. .1 1.. li _-..■. -s, and in her train I'.:. I I _ II lli.urs; then forth he walks, i!. .1' I ' I I i i . 1 1 u' languish of her beam, * Willi II. iM .1 -...il. iiii.l woos the bird of eve To miji^'lu woes with his ; or, while the world And all the sons of Care lie hushed in sleep, Associates with tho midnight shadows drear ; And, sighing to the lonely taper, pours His idly-tortured heart into the page Meant for the moving messenger of love ; Where rapture burns on rapture, every line With rising frenzy fired. But, if on bed Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies. All night he tosses, nor the balmy power In any posture finds ; till the gray morn Lifts her pal,e lustre on the paler wretch, Exanimate by love : and then perhaps Exhausted nature sinks tt while to rest. Still interrupted by distracted dreams. That o'er the sick imagination rise, And in black colors paint the mimic scene. Oft with the enchantress of his soul ho talks ; Sometimes in crowds distressed ; or if retired To secret, winding, flower-enwoven bowers. Far from the dull impertinence of man. Just as he, credulous, his endless cares Begins to lose in blind oblivious love. Snatched from her yielded hand, he knows not how. Through forests huge, and long untravclled heaths With desolation brown, ho wanders waste. In night and tempest wrapped ; or shrinks aghast. Back, from the bending precipice ; or wades The turbid stream below, and strives to reach Tho further shore ; where, succorless and sad. She with extended anna his aid implores ; But strives in vain ; borne by the outrageous flood To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave. Or whelmed beneath tho boiling eddy sinks. These are the charming agonies of love, Whoso misery delights. But through tho heart Should jealousy its venom onco diffuse. RURAL POETRY. THOMSON. 'T is then delightful misery no more, But agony unmixed, incessant gall, Corroding every thought and blasting all Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then. Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, Farewell ! Ye gleamings of departed peace, Shine out your last ! the yellow-tinging plague Internal vision taints, and in a night Of livid gloom imagination wraps. Ah, then ! instead of love-enlivened cheeks. Of sunny features, and of ardent eyes With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, Suflfused and glaring with untender fire ; A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek, "Where the whole poisoned soul, malignant, sits, And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms For which he melts in fondness, eat him up With fervent anguish and consimiing rage. In vain reproaches lend their idle aid. Deceitful pride, and resolution frail. Giving false peace a moment. Fancy pours, Afresh, her beauties on his busy thought, Her first endearments twining round the soul With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. Straight the fierce storm involves his mind anew. Flames through the nerves and boils along the veins; AVhile anxious doubt distracts the tortured heart : For e'en the sad assurance of his fears Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth. Whom love deludes into his thorny wilds, Through flowery-tempting paths, or leads a life Of evered rapture, or of cruel care ; His brightest aims extinguished all, and all His lively moments running down to waste. A HAPPY MARBIAGE UNION. — SELFISH PASSION ; TRUE LOVE. But happy they ! the happiest of their kind ! AYhom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 'T is not the coarser tie of human laws. Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, That binds their peace, but harmony itself. Attuning all their passions into love ; Where friendship full exerts her softest power, Perfect esteem enlivened by desire Ineffable, and sympathy of soul ; Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will. With boundless confidence : for naught but love Can answer love, and render bliss secure. Let him, ungenerous, who, alone intent To bless himself, from sordid parents buys The loathing virgin, in eternal care. Well-merited, consume his nights and days : Let barbarous nations, whose inhuman love Is wild desire, fierce as the suns they feel ; Let Eastern tyrants from the light of heaven Seclude their bosom-slaves, meanly possessed Of a mere lifeless violated form : While those whom love cements in holy faith, And equal transport, free as Nature live. Disdaining fear. ^\Tiat is the world to them. Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all. Who in each other clasp whatever fair High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish ; Something than beauty dearer, should they look Or on the mind, or mind-illumined face : Truth, goodness, honor, harmony, and love, The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven ? Meantime a smiling offspring rises round. And mingles both their graces. By degrees. The human blossom blows ; and every day. Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm. The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. Then infant reason grows apace, and calls For the kind hand of an assiduous care. Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot. To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind. To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast. 0, speak the joy ! ye, whom the sudden tear Surprises often, while you look around, And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss. All various Nature pressing on the heart : An elegant sufficiency, content. Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books. Ease and alternate labor, useful life. Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven ! These are the matchless joys of virtuous love ; And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus, I As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll. Still find them happy ; and consenting Spring Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads : Till evening comes at last, serene and mild ; When after the long vernal day of life. Enamored more as more remembrance swells With many a proof of recollected love. Together down they sink in social sleep ; i Together freed, their gentle spirits fly I To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign. |);istor;ils for \\n #rst llfck of Itarcl). SPENSER'S "MARCH." Thomalin, have no care for-thy. AN ECLOGUE. Myself will have a double eye A II r. U M E K T . Ylike to my flock and thine ; For, alas ! at homo I have a sire, to discourse of love, described here as a person. One of A stopdame eke, as hot as fire, them relates a story of his haying discovered him lately, hid in a bush, and of his being wounded by him. That duly adays counts mine. Tbomalin, why sittcn wo so As weren overwent with woo, THOUALLV. Nay, but thy seeing will not serve ; My sheep for that may chance to swerve, And fall into some mischief ; Upon so fiiir ft morrow? The joyous time now nigheth fast That shall alegg this bitter blast, For sithens is but the third morrow That I chaunst to fall asleep with sorrow, And slake the Winter sorrow. And waked again with grief ; The while thilk same unhappy ewe, TnOJlALIS. Whose clouted leg herself doth shew. Siker, Willy, thou warnest well ; Fell headlong into a dell, For Winter's wrath begins to quell, And then unjointed both her bones ; And pleasant Spring appeareth ; Mought her neck been jointed attones, The grass now 'gins to bo rcfresht, She should have need no more spell ; The swallow peeps nut of her nest. Th' elf was so wanton and so wood. And cloudy welkin clcareth. (But now I trow can better good) WILLT. She mought no gang on the green. Seest not thilk same ha>rthorn stud. WILLY. How bragly it begins to bud Let be as may be that is past ; And utter his tender head ? That is to come let bo forecast ; Flora now callcth forth each flower. Now tell us what thou hast seen. AwD.i.U ,n:,k.- yr:,.\y Maia's bowcr. Th^t „.« .- „|.n-. Inanbed: THOMALIK. Tho.-hall «.. ,-|„„|.n „■ delight. It was upon a holy-day. And learn with Lettiee to wex light When shepherd's grooms han leave to play, That scornfully looks askaunee ; I cast to go a shooting ; Tho will we little Love awake. Long wandering up and down tho land, That now siccpcth in Lethe lake. With bow and bolts in either hand. And pray hini leaden our dauncc. For birds in bushes tooting ; At length, within the ivy tod TnoMAl.lN. (There shrouded was tho little god) Willy, I ween thou be a sot ; I heard a busie bustling ; For lusty Love still sleepeth not. I bent my bolt against the bush. But is abroad at his game. Lisfning if anything did rush. WILLY But then heard no more lustling. How kenst thou that ho is awoke? Tho peeping close into the quick, Or hast thyself his slumber broke? Or made privy to tho same? Whose shape appeared not, But, were it fairy, fiend, or snake. My courage earn'd it to awake. TIIOMALIS. And manfully thereat shot : No ; but happily I him spido. With that sprang forth a naked swain, flTien in a bush ho did him hide, With spotted wings like peacock's train. With wings of purple and blue ; And, laughing, lope to a tree ; And were not that my sheep would straj-. His gilden ((uivor at his back, The privy marks I would bewray And silver bow which was but slack. Whereby by chance I him knew. Which lightly ho bent at me : 16 RURAL POETRY. — SPENSER — GRAY. ' pi'iy* That seeing, I levelled again, And shot at him with might and mam, As thick as it had hailed. So long I shot that all was spent. Though pumy stones I hastily hent. And threw, but nought availed. He was so nimble and so wight, From bough to bough he leaped light. And oft the pumies latched : Therewith, afraid, I ran away ; But, he that earst seemed but t A shaft in earnest snatched, And hit me, running, in the heel For then I little smart did feel. But soon it sore increased ; And now it rankleth more and m And inwardly it festreth sore, Ne wot I how to ceaso it. Thomalin, I pity thy plight ! Perdy with Love thou diddest fight, — I know him by a token ; For once I heard my father say How he him caught upon a day (Whereof he will be wroken) Entangled in a fowling-net. Which he for carrion crows had set. That in our pear-tree haunted ! Tho said he was a winged lad, But bow and shafts as then none had, Else had he sore be daunted. But, see ! the welkin thicks apace, And stooping Phoebus steeps his face, — It 's time to haste us homeward. WILLY'S ESIBLEM. iunted scarce to gods . thomalin's EMBLESI. * VICISSITUDE: THE HARMONY OF NATURAL AND MORAL CHANGES. A LYRIC IDVL. Now the golden morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, AVith vermil cheek and whisper soft, She woos the tardy Spring ; Till April starts, and calls around The sleeping fragrance from the ground. And lightly o'er the living scene Scatters his freshest, tenderest greeu. New-born flocks, in rustic dance Frisking, ply their feeble feet ; Forgetful of their wintry trance, The birds his presence greet : But chief the skylark warbles high His trembling, thrilling ecstasy ; And, lessening from the dazzled sight. Melts into air and liquid light. Yesterday the sullen year Saw the snowy whirlwind fly ; Mute was the music of the air, The herd stood drooping by ; Their raptures now, that wildly flow. No yesterday nor morrow know ; 'T is man alone that joy descries. With forward and reverted eyes. Smiles on past misfortune's brow Soft reflection's hand can trace, And o'er the cheek of sorrow throw A melancholy grace : WTiile hope prolongs our happier hour ; Or deepest shades, that dimly lower, And blacken round our weary way, Gilds with a gleam of distant day. iY TO THE ABOVE. I surely ; quell, diminish in i utter, ])ut forth ; Mala, Still where rosy pleasure leads, See a kindred grief pursue. Behind the steps that misery treads Approaching comfort view : The hues of bliss more brightly gl >w Chastised by sabler tints of woe ; And blended form, with artful strife, The strength and harmony of life. hertla •, han, have ; cast, in..! i ■. ■ ■: .i :..■,-, i . .i . in;?, seeking ; tod, thick Ihih.Ii , ., [. ,, : ■ ._ im I. , ■ .,i ..M, moved; lope, leaped ; giMni, ^-ili ; [niiii) , |.ii ■ ; li.di, gathered up, took up ; wimble, shilting ; wi^'lit, i\yuck, en- ergetic ; hatched, caught ; earst, at first, before ; wote, know ; perdy, par Dieu, verily ; wroken, revenged ; tho, at that time } be, been } Plioebus, the suu } steeps, descends See the wretch that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain. At length repair his vigor lost. And breathe and walk again ! The meanest flow'ret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale The common sun, the air, tho skies, To him are opening Paradise. SPRING — MARCH. THEOCRITOS'S "DAPHNIS." J. M. CHAPMAN, M.i Sweet is the music wliicli the whispering pine Maiccs to the murmuring fountain ; sweet is thine, Breathed from the pipe : the second prize thy duo — To Pan, the horned ram ; to thee, the ewe ; And thine the yearling, when the ewe he talces — A savory mess the tender yearling makes. Sweeter thy song than yonder gliding down Of water from the rock's o'orhanging crown ; If a ewe-sheep for fee the Aluses gain, Thou, shepherd ! shalt a stall-fed lamb obtain ; But if it rather please the tuneful nine To take the lamb, the ewe shall then be thine. 0, wilt thou, for the Nymphs' sake, goatherd ! fill Thy pipe with music on this sloping hill, Where grow the tamarisks ? Wilt sit, dear friend, And play for me while I thy goats attend ? We must not pipe at noon in any case ; For then Pan rests him, wearied from the chase. Him, quick to wrath, wo fear, as us befits ; On his keen nostril sharp gall ever sits. But thou — to thee the griefs of Daphnis known, .And the first skill in pastoral song thine own — Come to yon elm, into whose shelter deep Afront Priapus and the Naiads peep — [seat : Where the thick oaks stand round the shepherd's There, sitting with me in that cool retreat, If thou wilt sing 03 when thou didst content With Lybian Chromis which could sing the best, Tliine, Thyrsis, this twin-bearing goat shall be, That fills two milk-pails thrice a day for me ; And this deep ivy-cup, with sweetest wax Bedewed, twin-eared, that of the graver smacks. Around its lips lu-sh ivy twines on high. Sprinkled with drops of bright cassidony ; And as the curling ivy spreads around. On every curl the saflron fruit is found. With flowing robe and Lydian head-dress on. Within, a woman to the life is done — An exquisite design ! on either side Two men with flowing locks each other chide. By turns contending for the woman's love ; But not a whit her mind the pleadings move. One while she gives to this a glance and smile. And turns and smiles on that another while. ' Dnphnis, s Mercury, was ! shepherd i This beautiful poem is the first of the Idyls of Theocritus, who aourishol in the latter pan of the third century B. C. He is called the father of pastoral poetry, such .-is the * ec- lo^e,' * bucolic,' * idyl,' * pastoral,* &c., and is imitjited by all other writers of i>astorals, from Virgil downwards. But the Hebrew idyl, calltU * Solomon's Song,' is earlier by seven hundred years, and the pofltoral poem of *Job' is still more ancient. — J. But neither any certain favor gains — Only their eyes are swollen for their pains. Hard by, a rugged rock and fisher old, Who drags a mighty net, and seems to hold, Preparing for the cast : he stands to sight, A fisher putting forth his utmost might. A youth's strength in the gray-head seems to dwell. So much the sinews of his neck ouUwell. And near that old man with his sea-tanned hue. With purple grapes a vineyard shines to view. A little boy sits by the thorn-hedge trim. To watch the grapes — two foxes watching him : One through the ranges of the vines proceeds, And on the hanging vintage slyly feeds ; The other plots and vows his scrip to search. And for his breakfast leaves him — in the lurch. Meanwhile he twines and to a rush fits well A locust-trap, with stalks of asphodel ; And twines away with such absorbing glee, Of scrip or vines ho never thinks — not he ! The juicy, curled acanthus hovers round Th' ^Eolian cup — when seen a marvel found. Hither a Caledonian skipper brought it. For a great cheese-cake and a goat I bought it ; Untouched by lip, this cup shall be thy hire. If thou wilt sing that song of sweet desire, I envy not : begin ! the strain outpour ; 'T will not be thine on dull Oblivion's shore. Begin, dear Muses ! the bucolic strain ; For Thyrsis sings, your own ^tnean swain. Where were ye, nymphs! when Daphnis pined away, Where through his Tempe Peneus ' loved to stray, Or Pindus lifts himself? Ye were not here — Where broad Anapus flows or Acis' clear, Or where tall JEtna looks out on the main. Begin, dear Muses ! the bucolic strain : From out the mountain-lair the lions growled. Wailing his death — the wolves and jackals howled. Begin, dear Muses ! the bucolic strain : Around him, in a long and mournful train. Sad-faced, a number of the horned kind. Heifers, bulls, cows, and calves, lamenting pined. Begin, io. First, Hermes 3 from the mountain came and said: " Daphnis, by whom art thou disquieted? For whom dost thou endure so fierce a flame ? " Begin, Ac. Then cowherds, goatherds, shepherds, thronging came, And asked what ailed him. E'en Priapus < went. And said: " Sad Daphnis, why this languishment? In every grove, by fountains far and near. Begin, Ac. Thee the loved girl is seeking everywhere. 1 s 3 4 Peneus is a river flowing from Mount Pindus through Tempe, a valley of Thessaly ; Anapus and Acis arc streams of Sicily -, Hermes is the Greek for Mercury ; Priapus was the god of gardens. 18 RURAL POETRY. THEOCRITUS. Ah, foolish lover ! to thyself unkind, Miscalled a cowherd, with a goatherd's mind ! Begin, Ac. The goatherd, when he sees his goats at play, Envies their wanton sport, and pines away. And thou, at sight of virgins, when they smile. Dost looli with longing eyes, and pine the while, Because with them the dance thou dost not lead." No word he answered, but his grief did feed. And brought to end his love, that held him fast. And only ended with his life at last. Begin, &c. Then Cypris^ came, the queen of soft desire, Smiling in secret, but pretending ire. And said : "To conquer love did Daphnis boast ; But, Daphnis, is not love now uppermost ? " Begin, Ac. Her answered he : " Thou cruel sorrow-feeder . Curst Cypris ! mankind's hateful mischief-breeder ! 'T is plain my sun is set : but I shall show The blight of love in Hades' house below. ' Where Cypris kissed a cowherd ' — men will speak — Hasten to Ida ! thine Anchises^ seek ! Around their hives swarmed bees are humming here. Here the low galingale — thick oaks are there. Begin, &o. Adonis, the fair youth, a shepherd too. Wounds hares, and doth all savage beasts pursue. Begin, &c. Go ! challenge Diomede to fight with thee — < I tame the cowherd Daphnis, fight with me.' Begin, &a. Ye bears, who in the mountain hollows dwell. Ye tawny jackals, bounding wolves, farewell ! The cowherd Daphnis never more shall rove In quest of you, through thicket, wood, and grove ! Farewell, ye rivers, that your stream profuse From Thymbris' pour ! farewell, sweet Arethuso ! Begin, Ac. I drove my kino — a cowherd whilome here — To pleasant pasture, aud to water clear. Begin, &c. 1 Voims, parliculai-ly worshipped on the island of Cyprus, whence she is called the Paphian queen, the Cyprian queen, and Cypris. . , , 2 Daphnis, determined not to yield to the passion of love, with which Venus, the goddess of Love, afflicted him even to death, taunts her with Anchises, Adonis, and Diomede, her lovers at various times. See the Classical Dictionaries. 3 Thymbris is the name of a mountain of Sicily. Pan ! Pan ! ' if seated on a jagged peak Of tall Lyncaeus = now ; or thou dost seek The height of Maenalus^ — leave them a while, And hasten to thy own Sicilian isle. The tomb which ever gods admire leave now — Lycaon's-* tomb and Helice'sS tall brow. Cease, cease, ye Muses ! the bucolic strain. Hasten, my king ! and take this pipe that clips," Uttering its honey breath, the player's lips. For even now, dragged downward, must I go. By love dragged down to Hades' house below. Cease, cease, ye Muses, &c. Now violets ye thorns and brambles bear ! Narcissus now on junipers appear ! And on the pine-tree pears ! Since Daphnis dies. To their own use all things be contraries ! The stag trail hounds ; in rivalry their song The mountain-owls with nightingales prolong ! " Cease, cease, Ac. He said, and ceased : and Cypris wished, indeed. To raise him up, but she could not succeed ; His fate-allotted threads of life were spent. And Daphnis to the doleful river' went, [scorned, The whirlpool gorged him — by the Nymphs not Dear to the Muses, and by them adorned. Cease ! cease, ye Muses ! the bucolic strain. Give me the cup and goat that I may drain The pure milk from her ; and, for duty's sake, A due libation to the Muses make. All hail, ye Muses ! hail, and favor me. And my hereafter song shall sweeter be. Honey and honey-combs melt in thy mouth, And figs from AegilusS ! for thou, dear youth. The musical cicada ^ dost excel. Behold the cup ! how sweetly doth it smell ! 'T will seem to thee as though the lovely Hours Had newly dipt it in their fountain showers. Hither, Cissaetha! milk her! yearling friskers. Forbear — behold the ram's huge beard and whiskers! td personification of ( ; god of shepherds, ; world of shades. J for the best tips. i several varieties. Ijcsioii's "(ilGrhs ani) Hai) 900 TO 1000 B. C. TRANSLATED FKOM THE GKEEK BY C. A. ELTON. THE AGES OF HUMANITY. FKOM "WORKS," PARI I. When gods alike and mortals rose to birth, A golden race tiie immortals formed on earth Of many-languaged men ; they lived of old, When Saturn reigned in heaven, an age of gold. Like gods they lived, with calm, untroubled mind ; Free from the toils and anguish of our kind : Nor e'er decrepid age misshaped their frame, — The hand's, the foot's proportions still the same. Strangers to ill, their lives in feasts flowed by ; Wealthy in flocks ; dear to the blest on high : Dying thoy sank in sleep, nor seemed to die. Theirs was each good ; the life-sustaining soil Yielded its copious fruits, unbribed by toil ; They with abundant goods, midst quiet lands. All willing shared the gatherings of their hands. When earth's dark womb had closed this race around, [ground. High Jove as da^nons' raised them= from the Earth-wandering spirits ' they their charge began. The ministers of good,< and guards of man. Mantled with mist of darkling air they glide, And compass earth, and pass on every side ; And mark, with earnest vigilance' of eyes, Where just deeds live, or crooked wrongs arise ; Their kingly state ;" and, delegate from heaven, By their vicarious hands the wealth of fields is given. 1 The dtemons, or daimonts, amon^ the ancients, were spirits, either goal nr had. Our modern word denious is always used in a bad sense. - An immortality of the soul is here distinctly enunci- ated, and also the origin of angels from the human race. 3 Compare J-;il' is nf gcxKls, benefac- nmn. '^'rvuiii'iVo Uiko 23; 25 j .Murk 10 : 44 ; Rom. la : The gods then formed a second race of man, Degenerate far ; and silver years began. Unlike the mortals of a golden kind : Unlike in frame of limbs and mould of mind. Yet still a hundred years beheld the boy Beneath the mother's roof, her infant joy ; All tender and unformed • but when the flower Of manhood bloomed, it withered in an hcmr. Their frantic follies wrought them pain and woe Nor mutual outrage could their hands forego ; Nor would they serve the gods ; nor altars raise That in just cities shed their holy blaze. Them angry Jove ingulfed ; who dared refuse The gods their glory and their sacred dues ; Yet named the second-blest in earth they lie, And second honors grace their memory. The Sivp ..f l,.-!ivi.ii and earth created then A r;ir, , tlf (iiii 1 1 niiiiiy-lauguaged men. T'nlikL-ili' -iK'i i!n y: uf brazen mould, Willi a-lLrii iv:ii->iii ;ns, terrible and bold ; Their thoughts were bent on violence alono. The deeds of battle, and the dying groan. Bloody their feasts, with wheaten food unblest ; Of adamant was each unyielding breast. Huge, nerved with strength, eaeh hardy giant stands, And mocks approach with unresisted hands : Their mansions, implements and armor shino In brass ; dark iron slept within the mine. They by each other's hands inglorious fell, In freezing darkness plunged, the house of hell ; Ficrccthouglitli. v«. IV, ili.ir iimrtal course was run; Death gloomy s I :ui4 -n.it- lud them from the sun. Them when the abyss had covered from the skies Lo ! the fourth ago on nurturing earth arise : Jove formed the race a lu-tter, juster line ; A race of her.n- ;iirl -I -i.hii|. divine ; Lights of the :i_- 1 il ! I. our own; As demigods mVi - ,u i i > .;i"n known. Y'et these dread ijattle huriied to tlieir end : Some where the seven-fold gates of Thebes a.scend ; The Cadmian realm, where they with fatal miglit Strove for the flocks of iEdipus in fight. 20 RURAL POETRY. — HESIOD. Some war in naties led to Troy's far shore ; O'er the great space of sea their course they bore ; For sake of Helen with the beauteous hair : And death for Helen's sake o'erwhelmed them there. Them an earth's utmost verge the god assigned A life, a seat distinct from human kind : Beside the deepening whirlpools of the main, In those blest isles where Saturn holds his reign, Apart from heaven's immortals : calm they share A rest unsullied by the clouds of care : And yearly thrice with sweet luxuriance crowned, Springs the ripe harvest from the teeming ground. 0, would that Nature had denied me birth Midst this fifth raee ; this iron age of earth : That long before within the grave I lay. Or long hereafter could behold the day ! Corrupt the race ; with toils and griefs opprest, Nor day nor night can yield a pause of rest. Still do the gods a weight of care bestow. Though still some good is mingled with the woe. Jove on this race of many-languaged man, Speeds the swift ruin which but slow began : For scarcely spring they to the light of day, Ere age untimely strews their temples gray. No fathers in the sons their features trace : The sons reflect no more the fathers' face ; The host with kindness greets his guest no more. And friends and brethren love not as of yore. Reckless of heaven's revenge, the sons behold The hoary parents wax too swiftly old : And impious point the keen dishonoring tongue, With hard reproofs and bitter mockery hung : Nor, grateful, in declining age repay The nurturing fondness of their better day. Now man's right hand is law : for spoil they wait. And lay their mutual cities desolate. Unhonored he by whom his oath is feared ; Nor are the good beloved, the just revered. "With favor graced the evil-doer stands. Nor curbs with shame nor equity his hands ; With crooked slanders wounds the virtuous man, And stamps with perjury what hate began. Lo ! ill-rejoicing Envy, winged with lies. Scattering calumnious rumors as she flies, The steps of miserable men pm'sue With haggard aspect, blasting to the view. Till those fair foiTOS in snowy raiment bright Leave the broad earth, and heavenward soar from Justice and Modesty from mortals driven, [sight : Rise to the immortal family of heaven : Dread sorrows to forsaken man remain ; No cure of ills, no remedy of pain.' ANCIENT GREEK HUSB.UsDRY. FROM "WORKS," PART II. When, Atlas-born, the Pleiad stars arise * Before the sun above the dawning skies, 'T is time to reap ; and when they sink below The morn-illumined West, 't is time to sow. Know too they set, immerged into the sun. While forty days entire their circle run ; And with the lapse of the revolving year, When sharpened is the sickle, reappear. Law of the fields, and known to every swain AVho turns the fallow soil beside the main ; Or who, rciiii'tr finiii liillnwr ocean's gales. Tills the ri.l. ul-lr .il in] l-winding vales. Plough iiiil.ril- ^lill, iiii.l Hiikcd sow the soil. And naked i^aii ; il kimlly tn thy toil Thou hope to gather all that Ceres yields. And view thy crops in season crown the fields ; Lest thou to strangers' gates penurious rove. And every needy effort fruitless prove. That I shall give or lend thee of my store. 0, foolish Perses ! be the labors thine AMiioh the good gods to earthly man assign ; Lr-I nitli thy >|iniise, thy babes, thou vagrant ply, A II' I -mhi.w in- 'iinr those arms which all deny. 'r\M' ■ iii:i> iii\ I'liiints benignant favor gain. Anil liiiiily ilii iir in:iy not be poured in vain ; If still persisting plead thy wearying prayer. Thy words are naught, thy eloquence is air. Did exhortation move, the thought should be. From debt releasement, days from hunger free. PROVIDE WELL ; AVOID ffiLENKSS AND PEOCRASTINATIO!!. A house, a woman, and a steer provide. Thy slave to tend the cows, but not thy bride. Within let all fit implements abound. Lest, with refused entreaty wandering round. Thy wants still press, the season glide away. And thou with scanted labor mourn the day. Thy task defer not till the moon arise. Or the third sun the unfinished work surprise ; The idler never shall his garners fill. Nor he that still defers and lingers still. Lo ! diligence can prosper every toil ; The loiterer strives with loss, and execrates the soil. ■\Vhen rests the keen strength of the o erpowering From heat that made the pores in rivers run ; [sun, I This was, then, about May 11 ; their cosmical setting was early in November ; their heliacal, on April 3d. ' That is, stripped of the outer garments, as the word is used John 21 : 7 ; Conip. Mat. 24 : 18. The precept is equiv- alent to saying, Do your work thorouglily and earnestly ■, ' strip to it,' and keep at it diligently, for winter is coming. 21 When rushes in fresh rains autumnal Jove, And man's unburthencd limbs now lighter move ; For now the star of day with transient light Rolls o'er our hoads and joys in longer night ; M'hcn frcm the wnrm the forest boles are sound, TriM- l.iiil iH. iiiui.', hut earthward cost around Tlirir wiih'-i in;; l'..li;ii;e, then remember well The tiiii..l.v lal)ni-. iLud thy timber fell. Hew from the wood a mortar of three feet, CWiwr mui,y-ear\ra l>lnrks tliy ^^h<■>A t-. round, And let three spans its utmust orbit bouud ; AVhereon slow-rolling thy suspended wain, Ten spans in breadth, may traverse firm the plain. HOW TO MAKE A PLOUGH. If hill or field supply a holm-oak bough Of bending figure like the downward plough, Bear it away : this durable remains While the strong steers in ridges cleave the plains : If with firm nails thy artist join the whole, Affix the share-beam, and adapt the pole. Two ploughs provide, on household works intent, This art-compacted, that of native bent : A prudent forethought : one may crashing fail, The other, instant yoked, shall jjrompt avail. Of elm or bay the draught-polo firm endures ; The plough-tail holm, the share-beam oak secures. PROPER AGE FOR ' PLOUG&MAS. Two males procure : be nine their sum of years : Tli> II !i,ih.i;il -1 I.I I i;x for toil the sturdy steers : N I i-trong-struggling spurn the soil Ai ■ , , I -li and mar the unfinished toil, hi i.^.i[\\- [-;uii^ iiiy ploughman : one with bread Of fuur-stjuared luaf in double portions fed. He steadily shall cut the furrow true, Nor towards his fellows glance a rambling view ; Still on his task intent : a stripling throws Heedless the seed, and in one furrow strews The lavish handful twice ; while wistful stray His longing thoughts to comrades far away. Mark yearly, when among the clouds on high Thou hear'st the shrill crane's migratory cry. Of ploughing time the sign and wintry rains : Care gnaws his heart who destitute remains Of the fit yoke ; for then the season fulls To feed thy horned sti-crs within their stalls. Easy to speak the word, " Bosoeoh thee friend ! Thy waggon and thy yoke of oxen lend : " Easy the prompt refutsal ; ** Nay, but I Have need of oxen, and their work is nigh." Rich in bis own conceit, be then too late May think to rear the waggon's timbered weight : Fool ! nor yet knows the complicated frame A hundred seasoned blocks may fitly claim : These let thy timely care provide before, And pile beneath thy roof the ready store. Improve the season, to the plough apply Both thou and thine ; and toil in wet and dry : Haste to the field with break of glimmering mom, That so thy grounds may wave with thickening com. SOWlNn. — BKUGIOl-8 BITES TO BE DIXV OBSKRVBD. Ill .spring upturn the glebe : and break again With sunuuLT tilth the iterated plain. It shall nut mock thy hopes : be lost thy toil. Raised in light ridge, to sow the fallowed soil : The fallowed soil bids execration fly, And brightens with content the infant's eye. Jove subterrcne,! chaste Ceres claim thy vow. When, grasping first the handle of the plough, O'er thy broad oxen's backs thy quickening hand With lifted stroke lets fall the goading wand ; Whilst, yoked and harnessed by the fastening thong, They slowly drag the draught-pole's length along. So shall the sacred gifts of earth appear. And ripe luxuriance clothe the plenteous ear. A boy should tread thy steps : with rake o'erlay The buried seed, and scare the birds away. PLENTY TOE RESULT OF A KIND PROVIDENCE AND GOOD Good is the apt economy of things. While evil management its mischief brings : Thus, if aerial Jove ^ thy cares befriend. And crown thy tillage with a prosperous end. Shall the rich ear in fulness of its grain Nod on the stalk and bend it to the plain. So shalt thou sweep the spider's films away. That round thy hollow bins lie hid from day ; I ween ; rejoicing in the foodful stores Obtained at length, and laid within thy doors : For plenteousness shall glad thee through the year Till the white blossoms of the spring appear : Nor thou on others' heaps a gazer be, But others owe their borrowed store to thee. If, ill-advised, thou turn the genial plains. His wintry tropic when the sun attains ; Thou, then, mayst reap, and idle sit between : Mocking thy gripe the meagre stalks are seen : Whilst, little joyful, gather'st thou in bands The com whose chaffy dust bestrews thy hands. In one scant basket shall thy harvest lie, And few shall pass tliee, then, with honoring eye. 3 be due. Ceres w 1 of crops, grain, and flowers. 22 RURAL POETRY. ■ Now thus, now otherwise is Jove's design ; To men inscrutable the ways divine ; But if thou late upturn the furrowed field, One happy ohance a remedy may yield. O'er the wide earth when men the cuckoo hear From spreading oali-leaves first delight their ea Three days and nights let heaven in ceaseless ra Deep as thy ox's hoof o'erflow the plains ; So shall an equal crop thy time repair With his who earlier launched the shining share Lay all to heart : nor let the blossomed hours Of spring escape thee ; nor the timely showers. Pass by the brazier's forge where loiterers meet, Nor saunter in the portico's thronged heat ; When in the wintry season rigid cold Invades the limbs and binds them in its hold, Lo ! then the industrious man, with thriving store, Improves his household management the more : And this do thou : lost intricate distress Of winter seize, and needy cares ojipress : Lest, famine-smitten, thou, at liiii;tli, In- seen To gripe thy tumid foot niih liiiml Im.iii luiiiycr lean. Pampering his empty b.iii.>. v.t iir,.■. h. ■■ m,,, WTiilst lie thy fraiU oVrshadod from the .sun : The sixth in vats tho gifts of Bacchus press ; [ncss. Of Bacchus* gladdening earth with store of pleasant- But when beneath tho skies on morning's brink The Pleiads, Ilyads, and Orion sink ;3 Know tlien the ploughing and the seed-time near : Thus well-disposed shall glide thy Rustic Year. HESIOD'S "BAYS." ANCIENT StH'ERSTITIONS COSXECTED WTTO THK DAYS OP TOE MONTH, AS LCCKY OR CSLCCKT. Thy household teach a decent heed to pay, And well observe each Jove -appointed day. The thirtieth < of the moon inspect with care Thy servants' tasks, and all their rations share : What time the people to the courts repair.* These days obey the all-wise Jove's behc-^t : The first new moon, the fourth, the seventh is blest: Phojbus, on this, from mild Latona born. The golden-swordod god, beheld the mora. of the Pleiads f.Tuly. the French, during their first re were held in the in the afternoon. well as the Orientals, ivfl. The Greek month ys ; this wiis cnpiet) by 24 KURAL POETRT. HESIOD. The eighth, nor less the ninth, with favoring skies, Speeds of the increasing month each rustic enterprise ; And on the eleventh let thy Bocks be shorn, And on the twelfth be reaped thy laughing corn. Both days are good : yet is the twelfth confest More fortunate, with fairer omen blest. On this the air-suspended spider treads In the full noon his fine and self-spun threads ; And the wise emmet, tracking dark the plain. Heaps provident the store of gathered grain. On this let careful woman's nimble hand Throw first the shuttle and the web expand. On the thirteenth forbear to sow thy grain ; But then the plant shall not be set in vain. The sixteenth profitless to plants is deemed, Auspicious to the birth of men esteemed ; But to the virgin shall unprosperous prove, Then born to light, or joined in wedded love. So to the birth of girls with adverse ray The sixth appears, an unpropitious day ; But then the swain may fence his wattled fold. And cut his kids and rams ; male births shall then This day is fond of biting gibes and lies, [be bold. And jocund tales, and whispered sorceries. Cut on the eighth the goat, and lowing steer. And hardy mule ; and when the noon shines clear, Seek on the twenty-ninth to sow thy race, For wise shall be the fruit of thy embrace. The tenth propitious lends its natal ray To men, to gentle maids the fourteenth day : Tame, too, thy sheep on this auspicious morn, And steers of flexile hoof and wreathed horn. And labor-patient mules ; and mild command Thy sharp-toothed dog with smoothly-flattering hand. Tne fourth and twenty-fourth no grief should prey Within thy breast, for holy either day. Fourth of the moon lead home thy blooming bride, And be the fittest auguries descried. Beware the fifth, with horror fraught and woe : 'T is said the furies walk their round below. Avenging the dread oath ; whose awful birth From discord rose, to scourge the perjured earth. On the smooth threshing-floor, the seventeenth Observant throw the sheaves of sacred corn : [morn. For chamber furniture the timber hew. And blocks for ships with shaping axe subdue. The fourth upon the stocks thy vessel lay. Soon with light keel to skim the watery way. The nineteenth mark among the better days. When past the fervor of the noontide blaze. Harmless the ninth : 't is good to plant the earth, And fortunate each male and female birth. Few know the twenty-ninth, nor heed the rules To broach their casks, and yoke their steers and mules And fleet-hoofed steeds ; and on dark ocean's way Launch the oared galley ; few will trust the day. Pierce on the fourth thy cask ; the fourteenth prize As holy ; and when morning paints the skies. The twenty-fourth is best — few this have known — But worst of days when noon has fainter grown. These are the days of which the careful heed Each human enterprise will favoring speed : Others there are, which intermediate fall, Marked with no auspice and unomencd all : And these will some, and those will others praise, But few are versed in mysteries of days. In this a step-mother's stern hate we prove, In that the mildness of a mothei-'s love. 0, fortunate the man ! 0, blest is he IVlio, skilled in this, fulfils his ministry : He to whose note the auguries are given. No rite transgressed, and void ofblame to Heaven ! liiral ([^cs for :^'narr() BRYANT'S "MARCH." AN IDYLLIC ODE. The stormy March is como at last, With wind and cloud and changing skies I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies. Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month ! in praise of thee ; Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak. Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou to northern lands again Tlie glad and glorious sun dost bring. And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring. And, in thy reign of blast and storm, Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day, MTicn the changed winds are soft and warn: And heaven puts on the blue of May. ing And Mir lull -|iiiiij-, tVum frost set free. That, l..i_'liil> h., 1.1114 il.iwn the hills, Aruju-t srt i„it tiimrc-tthesea. The year's departing beauty hides Of wintry storms the sullen threat ; But in thy sternest frown abides A look of kindly promise yet. Thou bring'st the hope of those ealra skies, And that soft time of sunny showers. When the wide bloom on earth that lies Seems of a brighter world than ours. BION'S "EVENING STAR." AN IDYLLIC ODE. TRANSLATED BY J. M. CHAPMAS, M.A. Hesper ! sweet Aphrodite's golden light ! Hesper ! bright ornament of swarthy night. Inferior to the moon's clear sheen, as far As thou outshinest every other star ; Dear Hesper, hail ! and give thy light to me. Leading the festive shepherd company. For her now course to-day began the moon. And is already set — 0, much too soon ! — 'T is not for impious theft abroad I stir, Nor to waylay the nightly traveller : I love ; and thou, bright stai of love ! shouldst lend The lover light — his helper and his friend. BURNS'S "MOUNTAIN DAISY." Wee, modest orimson-tipped flower. Thou 'st met me in an evil hour : For I maun crush amang tho stourc Thy slender stem. To spare thee now is past my power. Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! 't Is no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet Wi' speckled breast. When upward springing, blythe, to greet The purpling ea^t. Cauld blew the bitter, biting North Upon thy early, humble birth : Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth .\mid the storm. Scarce reared atove the parent earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flowers our gardens yield. High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield : But thou, beneath the random bield 0' clod or stune. Adorns the histie stibble-field. Unseen, alane. There in thy scanty mantle clad. Thy snawie bosom sunward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptcars thy bed. And low thou lies. Such is the fate of artless maid. Sweet floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betrayed. And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid Low in the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard. On life's rough ocean luckless starred ! Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore. Till billows rage, and gales blow hard. And whelm him o'er. Such fate to suffering worth is given. Who long with wants and woes has striven, By human pride or cunning driven To misery's brink. Till, wrenched of every stay but heaven, He ruined sink ! RURAL POETRY. — MOSCHUS — THEOCRITUS. E'en thou who moura'st the Daisy's fate, That fate is thine — no distant date ; Stern ruin's ploughshare drives elate Full on thy bloom, Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight, Shall be thy doom. GLOSSARY. Wee, little ; maun, must j stoure, dust put in motion by the wind ; neebor, neighbor -, weet, wetness ; cauki, cold ; glinted, peeped brightly ; bield, shelter ; stane, stone ; his- tie Btibble, dry stubble ; alane, alone : snawie, snowy. MOSCHUS'Si ''CUPID A RUNAWAY." AN IDYL. TRANSLATED BY J. M. CHAPMAN, M.A. Heb Eros thus proclaimed the Cyprian Queen : 2 If any one has in the highway seen My straying Eros, and reports to me His whereabouts, he shall rewarded be ; A kiss for him ; but, if it shall betide One bring Mm me, a kiss — and more beside. Midst twenty ho is notable to view : Not fair, but flamy is his dazzling hue ; Sharp are his eyes, and flame their glanced fleet ; His mind is wicked, but his speech is sweet. His word and meaning are not like at all ; His word is honey, and his meaning gall. He is a mischievous, deceitful child ; Beguiles with falsehood, laughs at the beguiled. He has a lovely head of curling hair, But saucy features, with a reckless stare. His hands are tiny, but afar they throw. E'en down to Dis^ and Acheron below. Naked his form, his mind in covert lies ; Winged as a feathered bird, he careless flies From girls to boys, from men to women flits, Sports with their heartstrings, on their vitals sits. Small is his bow, his arrow small to sight, But to Jove's court it wings its ready flight. Upon his back a golden quiver sounds, Full of sharp darts, with which e'en me he wounds. All cruel things by cruel Love are done ; His torch is small, yet scorches e'en the sun. But, should you take him, fast and safely bind him. And bring him to me with his hands behind him. If he should weep, take heed — he weeps at will ; But, should he smile — then drag him faster still ; And, should he offer you a kiss, beware ! Evil his kiss, his red lips poisoned are ! 1 Moschus was probably a pupil of Bion. Some scholars make tliem contemporary with Theocritus ; others place them a century later, at about 156 U. C. ' Eros is the Greek for Cupid, god of love, son of Venug, called ' Cyprian queen ' from Cyprus. See note 1, p. 18. a Pluto, King of Hades, Hell, the Shades, the classic spirit-world, of which Acheron was a river. And should he say,, with seeming friendship hot, "Accept my bow and arrows," touch them not ! Tears, smiles, words, gifts, deceitful wiles inspire. And everything he has is dipt in fire. THEOCRITUS'S "DISTAFF.' A LYRIC IDYL. TRANSLATED BV J. M. CHAPMAN, This sweet ditty was written to commend an ivory dis- taff, which the poet, about to sail to Miletus, intended as a present for Theugenis, the wife of Nicias, the physician. Undei- the semblance of teaching the distaff what sort of a mistress it is about to have, he cleverly and gracefully . her husband. Distaff ! quick implement of busy thrift, [gift ! Which careful housewives ply, blue-eyed Athene's ^ We go to rich Miletus, where is seen The fane of Cypris 'mid the rushes green : Praying to mighty Zeus,^ for voyage fair, Thither to Nicias would I now repair, Delighting and delighted by my host, AVhom the sweet-speaking Graces love the most Of all their favorites ; thee, distaff bright ! Of ivory wrought, with art most exquisite, A present for his lovely wife I take. With her thou many various works shalt make ; Garments for men, and such as women wear. Of silk, whose color is the sea-bluo clear. And she so diligent a housewife is, That ever, for well-ankled Theugenis, Thrice in a year are shorn the willing sheep Of the fine fleeces, which for her they keep. She loves what love right-minded women all ; For never should a thriftless prodigal Own thee with my consent ; 'twere shame and pity ! Since thou art of that most renowned city,3 Built by Corinthian Archias erewhile, The marrow of the whole Sicilian isle. But in the house of that physician wise. Instructed how by wholesome remedies From human kind diseases to repel. Thou shalt in future with lonians dwell, In beautiful Miletus ; that the fame For the best distafi" Theugenis may claim, And thou ma/st ever to her mind suggest The memory of her song-loving guest. The worth of offering from friend we prize. Not in the gift but in the giver lies. 1 Minerva, goddess of science, wisdoi ry, etc., inventress of the distaff, and 2 Zeus and Dios were the Greek, Jovis anil Ju] Latin names of the god of the air, ' ruler of gods am ch once had 1,200,000 souls, by Archias, B. C. 732, about twenty yea ian's ''^imil Sports." ANGLING, FOWLING, AND HUNTING. A OKOKOIC. Yon, who tho sweets of rural life have known, Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the town ; In Windsor groves your easy hours employ, And, undisturbed, yourself and muse enjoy ; Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows. And no rude wind through rustling osier blows ; While all his wondering nymphs around thoe throng, To hear the sirens warble in thy song. But I, who ne'er was blest by fortune's hand. Nor brightened ploughshares in paternal land. Long in the noisy town have been immured, Respired its smoke, and all its cares endured ; Where news and politics divide mankind, And schemes of state involve the uneasy mind ; Faction embroils the world ; and every tongue Is moved by flattery, or with scandal hung : Friendship, for sylvan shades, the palace flies, WTiere all must yield to interest's dearer ties ; Each rival Machiavel with envy burns, And honesty forsakes them all by turns ; While calumny upon each party 's thrown, ^\'hich both promote, and both alike disown. Fatigued, at last, a calm retreat I chose. And soothed my harassed mind with sweet repose, Where fields and shades, and the refreshing clime. Inspire the sylvan song, and prompt my rhyme. My muse shall rove through flowery meads and plains, And deck with Kural Sports her native strains. And the same road ambitiously pursue. Frequented by tho Mantuan swain and you.* 'T is not that Rural Sports alone invite. But all tho grateful country breathes delight ; Here blooming Health exerts her genial reign, And strings the sinews of the industrious swain. Soon as the morning lark salutes the day. Through dewy fields I take my frequent way. Where I behold the farmer's early care In the revolving labors of the year. 1 This poem was originally inscribed to Pope, in 1713. When the fresh Spring in all her state is crowned, .\nd high, luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground. The laborer with a bending scythe is seen, Sliaving the surface of the waving green ; ur all her native pride disrobes the land. And meads lay waste before his sweeping hand ; While with the mounting sun the meadow glows. The fading herbage round he loosely throws : But, if some .«i^ii portend a histing shuwcr. The e.\perieii 1 .u.nn t<;---' ■ ^ i:m . "Iiiiii- hour; His sunburnt Ii.mmI iKi i' i _ : i.-ake. And ruddy .l;i:ai N \'];. _ : 1 1 ■ ; In rising hilLs lU^ l^siai.t h.unM. j,i..u.<, And spreads along the lield in equal rows. Now when the height of heaven bright Phoebus And his steep * rays cleave wide the thirsty plains ; When heifers seek the shade and cooling lake, And in the middle pathway basks the snake ; lead me, guard me from the sultry hours. Hide me, ye forests, in your closest bowers, Where the tall oak his spreading arms entwines. And with the beech a mutual shade combines ; Where flows the murmuring brook, inviting dreams, Where bordering hazel overhangs tho streams, WTiose rolling current, winding round and round. With frequent falls makes all the wood resound ; Upon the mossy couch my limbs I cast, And e'en at noon the sweets of evening taste. vniGIL'3 ORAIS i VISES ; Here I peruse the Mantuan's Georgic strains. And learn the labors of Italian swains ; In every page I see new landscapes rise. And all Ilesporia opens to ray eyes ; T wander o'er the various rural toil, And know the nature of each different soil : This waving field is gilded o'er with corn, That spreading trees with blushing fruit adorn ; Here I survey the purple vintage grow. Climb round the poles, and rise in graceful row : Now I behold tho steed curvet and bound, And paw with restless hoof the smoking grr)und : The dew-lapped bull now chafes along the plain. While burning love ferments in every vein ; His well-armed front against his rival aims. And by the dint of war his mistress claims. 1 The original has * level,' but without meaning. — J. RURAL POETRY. The careful insect midst his works I view, Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew ; "With golden treasures load his little thighs, And steer his distant journey through the skies : Some against hostile drones the hive defend. Others with sweets the waxen cell distend ; Each in the toil his destined office bears. And in the little bulk a mighty soul appears. BVENINO IN THE CODNTBV. —SILENCE. —SBNSET. Or when the ploughman leaves the task of day, And, trudging homeward, whistles on the way; When the big-uddered cows with patience stand. Waiting the strokings of the damsel's hand ; No warbling cheers the woods ; the feathered choir, To court kind slumbers, to the sprays retire ; ■When no rude gale disturbs the sleeping trees. Nor aspen-leaves confess the gentlest breeze ; Engaged in thought to Neptune's bounds I stray. To take my farewell of the parting day. Far in the deep the sun his glory hides, A streak of gold the sea and sky divides : The purple clouds their amber linings show. And edged with flame rolls every wave below : Hero pensive I behold the fading light, And o'er the distant billow lose my sight. Now night in silent state begins to rise. And twinkling orbs bestrew the uncloudy skies ; Her borrowed lustre growing Cynthia lends. And on the main a glittering path extends : Millions of worlds hang in the spacious air, "Which round their suns their annual circles steer ; Sweet contemplation elevates my sense, While I survey the works of Providence. 0, could the muse in loftier strains rehearse The glorious Author of the universe. Who reins the winds, gives the vast ocean bounds. And circumscribes the floating worlds their rounds ; My soul should overflow in songs of praise, And my Creator's name inspire my lays ! As in successive course the seasons roll. So circling pleasures recreate the soul. When genial Spring a living warmth bestows. And o'er the year her verdant mantle throws. No swelling inundation hides the grounds. But crystal currents glide within their bounds ; The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake. Float in the sun, and skim along the lake ; With frequent leap they range the shallow strear Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams. Now let the fisherman his toils prepare. And arm himself with every watery snare ; His hooks, his lines, peruse with careful eye. Increase his tackle, and his rod retio. When floating clouds their spongy fleeces drain. Troubling the streams with swift-descending rain ; And waters, tumbling down the mountain's side, Bear the loose soil into the swelling tide ; Then soon as vernal gales begin to rise. And drive the liquid burthen through the skies. The fisher to the neighboring current speeds, Whose rapid surface purls unknown to weeds : Upon a rising border of the brook He sits him down and ties the treacherous hook ; Now expectation cheers his eager thought, His bosom glows with treasures yet unoaught. Before his eyes a banquet seems to stand. Where every guest applauds his skilful hand. Far up the stream the twisted hair he throws, Which down the murmuring current gently flows ; When if, or chance or hunger's powerful sway Directs the roving trout this fatal way. He greedily sucks in the twining bait, And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat ; Now, happy fisherman, now twitch the line ! How thy rod bends ! behold, the prize is thine ! Cast on the bank, he dies with gasping pains. And trickling blood his silver mail distains. You must not every worm promiscuous use, Judgment will tell the proper bait to choose : The worm that draws along immoderate size The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies ; And if too small, the naked fraud 's in sight, And fear forbids, while hunger does invite. Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains. Whose polished tails a shining yellow stains ; Cleanse them from filth ; to give a tempting gloss. Cherish the sullied reptile race with moss ; Amid the verdant bed they twine, they toil. And from their bodies wipe their native soil. But when the sun displays his gracious beams. And shallow rivers flow with silver streams. Then the deceit the scaly breed survey. Bask in the sun and look into the day : You now a more delusive art must try, And tempt their hunger with the curious fly. To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride ; Let nature guide thee ; sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require : The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail. Nor the dear purchase of the sable's t.^il. Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings. And lends the growing insect proper wings : Silks of all colors must their aid impart, And every fur promote the fisher's art. So the gay lady, with expensive care, Borrows the pride of land, of sea, and air ; Furs, pearls, aud plumes, the glittering thing displays, Dazzles our eyes, and easy hearts betrays. Mark well tho rarious seasons of the year, How the succeeding insect race appear ; In this revolving moon one color reigns, Which in the next the fickle trout disdains. Oft have I so.mi Ihf =ki!fn! niiglor try The vai-iuus - ,,|,.i - ,.t li,,. tn lu-heruus fly, AVhen he w iih inntlr-. pnn lijitU skimmed the brook. And tbo <.-•'% li-h ii i<>[- ilir skipping hook. thn llo gentl_v takus him tVuui thy uliiiling tide; Examines well his form with curious eyes, His gaudy vest, his wings, his horns, and size ; Then round his hook the chosen fur he winds, And on the back a speckled feather binds ; So just the colors shine through every part. That nature seems again to live in art. Let not thy wary step advance too near, While all thy hope hangs on a single hair ; The new-formed insect on the water moves, The speckled trout the curious snare approves ; Upon the curling surface let it glide, With natural motion from thy hand supplied ; Against the stream now gently- let it play, Now in the rapid eddy roll away. The scaly shoals float by, and, seized with fear, Behold their fellows tost in thinner air ; But soon they leap and catch the swimming bait, Plunge on the hook, and share an equal fate. IVben a brisk gale against the current blows. And all the watery plain in wrinkles flows, Then let the fisherman his art repeat, "VMiere bubbling eddies favor tho deceit. If an enormous salmon chance to spy The wanton errors of the floating fly, He lifts his silver gills above tho flood. And greedily sucks in the unfaithful food ; Then downward plunges with tho fraudful prey. And bears with joy the little spoil away : Soon in smart pain he feels the dire mistake, Lashes the wave, and beats the foaming lako ; With sudden rage he now aloft appears, And in his eye con\'ulsive anguish bears ; And now again, impatient of the wound. He rolls and wreathes his shining body round ; Then heatllong shoots beneath tho dashing tide. The trembling fins the boiling wave divide. Now hope exalts tho fisher's beating heart. Now he turns palo and fears his dubious art ; He views the trembling fish with longing eyes While the lino stretches with the unwieldy prize ; Each motion humors with his steady hands, And one slight hair the mi-ility Inilk cuuuuands ; Till, tired at last, despnil.,! ,>r ;,il hi. ^inM-th, Tho game athwart tho ,-tir;, I, I ini!,.M- in icnj^th. He now, with pleasure, ww- ilir -i [.m.' pri/.o Gnash bis sharp teeth, ami n-ll In- \.\ i-lmti-yci Then draws him to the >ii"ii\ u ith ;ii mhI rm-c. And lifts his nostrils in th- ^i^kni,,;- ;iii ; Upon tho burdened stream In- llnatiii;,' Ul^, Stretches his quivering limbs, and gasping dies. Would you preserve a numerous finny race, Let your fit- rce dogs the ravenous otter chase ; — The amphibiuus monster ranges all the shores, Darts through the waves, and every haunt explores; — Or let the gin his roving steps betray. And save from hostile jaws the scaly prey. I never wander where the bordering reeds O*erlook the muddy stream, whose tangling weeds Perplex the fisher ; I nor choose to bear The thievish nightly net, nor barbed spear ; Nor drain I ponds the golden carp to take. Nor troll for pikes, dispeoplers of the lake ; Around the steel no tortured worm shall twine. No blood of living insect stain my line. Let me, less crufi, cast the feathered hook. With pliant rod, athwart the pebbled brook ; Silent along tho mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey. CANTO II. Now, sporting muse, draw in the flowing reins, Leave the clear streams a while for sunny plains. [ Should you the various arms and toils rehearse, ' And all the fishermen adorn thy verso ; Should you the wide-encircling net display, And in its spacious arch enclose tho sea ; Then haul tho plunging load upon the land, And with the sole and turbot hide the sand ; It would extend the growing theme too long, And tiro tho reader with the watery song. i LET THE SPORTSMAN 5PARB THE STASDINO CROP J RBAPISO. Let the keen hunter from the chase refrain, I Nor render all the ploughman's labor vain, When Ceres pours out plenty from her horn. And clothes tho fields with golden cars of com. i Now, now, ye reapers, to your task repair ; Haste ! save the product of the bounteous year : To the wide-gathering hook long furrows yield, And rising sheaves extend through all the field. Yet, if for Sylvan Sports thy bosom glow, Let thy fleet greyhound urge his flying foe. KURAL POETRY. With what delight the rapid course I view ! How does my eye the circling race pursue ! He snaps deceitful air with empty jaws ; The subtle hare darts swift beneath his paws ; She flies, he stretches, now with nimble bound Eager he presses on, but overshoots his ground ; She turns, he winds, and soon regains the way, Then tears with gory mouth the screaming prey. "What various sport does rural life afford ! "What unbought dainties heap the wholesome board ! FOWLING ; THE Nor less the spaniel, skilful to betray, Rewards the fowler with the feathered prey. Soon as the laboring horse, with swelling veins, Hath safely housed the farmer's doubtful gains. To sweet repast the unwary partridge flies, "With joy amid the scattered harvest lies ; Wandering in plenty, danger he forgets. Nor dreads the slavery of entangling nets. The subtle dog scours with sagacious nose Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows Against the wind he takes his prudent way, While the strong gale directs him to his prey. Now the warm scent assures the covey near, He treads with caution, and he points with fear ; Then — lest some sentry fowl the fraud descry, And bid his fellows from the danger fly — Close to the ground in expectation lies, Till in the snare the fluttering covey rise. Soon as the blushing light begins to spread. And glancing Phoebus gilds the mountain's head, His early flight the ill-fated partridge takes, And quits the friendly shelter of the brakes. Or when the sun easts a declining ray. And drives his chariot down the western way, Let your obsequious ranger search around. Where yellow stubble withers on the ground : Nor will the roving spy direct in vain, But numerous coveys gratify thy pain. When the meridian sun contracts the shade. And frisking heifers seek the cooling glade ; Or when the country floats with sudden rains, Or driving mists deface the moistened plains ; In vain his toils the unskilful fowler trios, While in thick woods the feeding partridge lies. Nor must the sporting verse the gun forbear, But what 's the fowler's be the muses' care. See how the well-taught pointer leads the way : The scent grows warm ; he stops ; he springs the prey ; The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, Aud on swift wing divide the sounding skies ; The scattering lead pursues the certain sight, And death in thunder overtakes their flight. Cool breathes the morning air, and winter's hand Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land ; Now to the copse thy ksser spaniel take, Teach him to range the ditch, and force the brake ; Not closest coverts can protect the game : Hark ! the dog opens ; take thy certain aim, The woodcock flutters ; how he wavering flies ! The wood resounds ; he wheels, he drops, he dies. The towering hawk let future poets sing, Wko terror bears upon his soaring wing : Let them on high the frighted hem sun'cy. And lofty numbers paint their aiVy fray. Nor shall the mounting lark the muse detain. That greets the morning with his early strain ; When, *midst his song, the twinkling glass betrays, While from each angle flash the glancing rays. And in the sun the transient colors blaze, Pride lures the little warbler from the skies : The light-enamored bird deluded dies. But still the chase, a pleasant task, remains ; The hound must open in these rural strains. Soon as Aurora drives away the night. And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn ; The jocund thunder wakes the enlivened hounds ; They rouse from sleep, and answer sounds for sounds; Wide through the furzy field their route they take. Their bleeding bosoms force the thorny brake ; The flying game their smoking nostrils trace, No bounding hedge obstructs their eager pace ; The distant mountains echo from afar, And hanging woods resound the flying war. The tuneful noise the sprightly courser hears. Paws the green turf, and pricks his trembling ears ; The slackened rein now gives him all his speed, Back flies the rapid ground beneath the steed ; Hills, dales, and forests, far behind remain, [train. While the warm scent draws on the deep-mouthed AVhere shall the trembling hare a shelter find ? Hark ! death advances in each gust of wind ! New stratagems and doubling wiles she tries. Now circling turns, and now at large she flics ; Till, spent at last, she pants, and heaves for breath, Then lays her down, aud waits devouring death. But stay, adventurous muse ! hast thou the force To wind the twisted horn, to guide the horse ? To keep thy scat unmoved, hast thou the skill, O'er the high gate, and down the headlong hill ? Canst thou the stag's laborious chase direct, Or the strong fox through all his arts detect? The theme demands a more experienced lay : Ye mighty hunters ! spare this weak essay. 3i 0, happy plains, remote from war's alarms, And all the ravages of hostile arms ! And happy shepherds, who, secure from fear. On open downs preserve your fleecy care ! Whose spacious barns groan with increasing stoi And whirling flails disjoint the cracking floor ! No barbarous soldier, bent on cruel spoil. Spreads desolation o'er your fertile soil ; No trampling steed lays waste the ripened grain Nor crackling fires devour the promised gain ■ No flaming beacons cast their blaze afar, The dreadful signal of invasive war : No trumpet's clangor wounds the mother's ear, And calls the lover from his swooning fair. THE COrNTRY GIRL DESCRIBED ', OER HAPPY LOT. What happiness the rural maid attends. In cheerful labor while each day she spends ! She gratefully receives what Heaven has sent, And, rich in poverty, enjoys content ; — Such happiness, and such unblemished fame. Ne'er glad the bosom of the courtly dame : — She never feels the spleen's imagined pains, Nor melancholy stagnates in her veins ; She never loses life in thoughtless ease. Nor on the velvet couch invites disease ; Her homespun dress in simple neatness lies, And for no glaring equipage she sighs : Her reputation, which is all her boast, In a malicious visit ne'er was lost ; No midnight masquerade her beauty wears, And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs. If love's soft passion in her bosom reign, An equal passion warms her happy swain ; I No homebred jars her quiet state control, Xnr watchful jealousy torments her soul ; With secret joy she sees her little race Ilang on her brea^it, and her small cottage grace ; The fleecy ball their busy fingers cull, Or from the spindle draw the lengthening wool. Thus flow her hours with constant peace of mind, Till age the latest thread of life unwind. ADIEU TO TOR COUNTRY. Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife, The kind rewardcrs of inrlu?trious life ; Ye shady woods, wl n. r T u ^ ■] u> rove, Alike indulgent I' ' ■ I ■■.■■; Ye murmuring .-t I r, I i' n :, unlrrsroll. The sweet compos.', ni t\i- ^m n i .r .,,ul ; Farewell ! — The city calls mu frum your bowers : Farewell ! amusing thoughts and peaceful hours. fusscr's ''HIarrlj's Ijusbiinitni/' Worth r t the li White pcnson, both good for the pot and the purse, By sowing too timely, prove often the worse. Because tliey be tender, and bateth the cold, Prove JIarch ere ye sow, for being too bold. Spare meadow at Gregory,' marshes at Pasque.' For fear of dry summer no longer time ask. Then hedge them and ditch them, bestow thereon Com, meadow, and pasture, ask alway good fence.** In March, at the farthest, dry season or wet. Hop-roots, 80 well chosen, let skilful go set. The goeler< and younger, the better I love ; Well gutted and pared, the better they prove. * * In March is good grafling, the skilful do know, So long as the wind in the east do not blow : 1 These extracts arc frnm that rare old Farmer's hook, *Tusser*9 Five llundretl Points of Oood Ilusbandrv,' first published in England, in Klizaheth's reifm, three hundred years ago. The precepts were given in rhyme, so as to be From moon being changed, till past be the prime. For graffing and cropping is very good time. Things grafted or planted, the greatest and least. Defend against tempest, the bird and the beast ; Defended shall prosper, the tother is lost. The thing with the labor, the time, and the cost. Sow barley in March, in April and May, The later in sand, and the sooner in clay. AVhat worser for barley than wetness and cold ? What better to skilful than time to be bold? \\'ho soweth his barley too soon, or in rain, Of oats and of thistles shall often complain. * * I>ct barley bo harrowed finely as dust. Then workmanly trench it and fence it ye must. This season well plied, set sowing an end. And praise and pray God a good harvest to send.** In March and in April, from morning to night. In sowing and setting good housewives delight : To have in a garden or other like plot. To trim up their house, and to furnish their pot. • ' Land falling or lying full south or south-west, For profit by tillage, is lightly the best : * » At spring for the Summer sow garden ye shall ; At harvest for Winter, or sow not at all. * * ustit lallais for lliu-tl ' ROBES HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE." • ■Whan shaws been shecne, and shraddes full fayre, And leaves both large and longe, Itt's merrye walkyng in the fayre forrest To hear the small birdes songe/-! The woodweele sang and would not cease, gifting upon the spray, So loud, he wakened Robin Hood, In the greenwood where he lay. Now, by my faye, said jolly Robin, A sweaven I had this night ; I dreamt me of two mighty yeomen, That fast with me 'gan tight. Methought they did me beat and bind, And took my bow mo froe ; If I be Robin alive in this land I'll be wroken on them towe. Sweavens are swift, said Little John, As the wind blows over the hill ; For if it be never so loud this night, To-morrow it may be still. Buske ye, bowne ye, my merry men, all. And John shall go with me. For I '11 go seek yond wighty yeomen, In greenwood where they be. , They then cast on their gowns of green. And took their bows each one ; And they away to the green forest A shooting forth are gone ; Until they came to the merry green wood Where they had gladdest to be : There they were ware of a wight yeoman That leaned against a tree. A sword and a dagger he wore by his side. Of many a man the bane ; And he was clad in his capuU hide Top and tayll and mayne. Pil-5 to lie molested, sparing pii"r ii with what he got from iililKj s ' of all theeves the prince and 2 The antique spelling of Stand still, master, quoth Little John, Under this tree so green. And I will go to yond wight yeoman To know what he doth mean. Ah ! John, by me thou sett'st no store, And that I farley find : How often send I my men before, And tarry myself behind ? It is no cunning a knave to ken, An a man but hear him speak ; An it were not for bursting of my bow, John, I thy head would break. As often words they breeden bale. So they parted Robin and John ; And John is going to Barnesdale : The gates he knoweth each one. But when he came to Barnesdale, Great heaviness there he had. For he found two of his own fellowes Were slain both in a slade. And Scarlette he was flying afoot Fast over stock and stone. For the proud sheriffe with seven score men Fast after him is gone. One shoote now, I will shoote, quoth John, With his might and mayne ; I '11 make yond sheriff that wends so fast. To stop he shall be fain. Then John bent up his long bend bow. And settled him to shoot ; The bow was made of tender bough. And fell down at his foot. Woe worth, woe worth thee, wicked wood. That ever thou grew on tree ; For now this day thou art my bale. My boote when thou should be. His shoote it was hut loosely shot. Yet flew not the arrow in vain. For it met one of the sheriff's men. And William a Trent was slain. It had been better of AVilliam a Trent To have been abed with sorrow. Than to be that day iu the greenwood slade, To meet with Little John's arrow. For as it was said, when men be met, Five can do more than three. The sheriff hath taken Little John And bound him fast to a tree. SPRING - - MARCH. 33 Thou Shalt be drawn by dale and down, And hanged high on a hill. But thou mayest fail of thy purpose, quoth John, If it be Christ his will. My dwelling is in this wood, says Robin, By thee I set right naught : I am Robin Hood of Barnesdalo, Whom thou so long has sought. Let us leave talking of Little John, And think of Robin Hood, How ho is gone to the wight yeoman, Where under the leaves ho stood. He that had neither been kith nor kin Might have seen a full fayre sight. To soe how together these yeomen went With blades both brown and bright : Good-morrow, good fellow, said Robin so fair, Hood-morrow, good fellow, quo' he : Mothiuks, by this bow thou bears in thy hand, A good areher thou should'st be. To see how these yeomen together they fought Two hours of a summer's day : Yet neither Robin Hood nor Sir Guy Them settled to fly away. 1 am wilfulle of my way, quo' tho yeoman. And of my morning tyde. I '11 lead thee through the wood, said Robin : Good fellow, I '11 bo thy guide. Robin was reachles on a root, And stumbled at that tyde ; And Guy was quick and nimble withal. And hit him upon the side. I seek an outliwe, the stranger said, Men call him Robin Hood ; Rather I'd meet with that proud outliwo, Than forty pound so good. Ah.deere Ladye, said Robin Hood, thou That art both mother and may, I think it was never man's destinye To die before his day ! Now conic with me, thou wighty yeoman. And Robin thou soon shalt sec : But first let us some pastime find Under the greenwood tree. Robin thought on our Ladye deere. And soon leapt up again ; And straight he came with a backward stroke, And he Sir Guy hath slayne. First let us some mnsterye make Among tho woods so even ; We may chance to meet with Kobin Hood Here at some unsett Steven. He took .'^ir Guy's heiul by the hair. And .iii Ir-1 in tlir -li;iion. skilled to rule. The village master taui'-lit hi.- liitlr srlmol. A man severe he w;i,-, ;iiid -inn t.. \ i-u. — I knew him well, and every truanL knew ; Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face ; Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; Full well the busy whisper, circling round, Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned ; Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love ho bore to learning was in fault ; The village all declared how much he knew ; 'T was certain he could write, and cipher too ; SPRINa — MARCH. 37 could measure, terms and tides presage> the story ran that he could gauge ; ng, too, the parson owned his skill, though vanquished, he could argue still ; )rds of learned length and thundering souu the gazing rustics ranged around ; they gazed, and still the wonder grew small head could carry all he knew. is all his fame. The very spot any a time ho triumphed is forgot. Lands ho And oven In arguinj For ovoE AVhile VT> Amazed And still That one Cut past Where m; Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye, Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts ii Whore gray board mirth and smiling toil retired, Where village statesmen talked with looks profoun( And news much older than their ale went round. Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlor splendors of that festive place ; The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor. The varnished clock that clicked behind the door ; The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day ; The pictures placed for ornament and use, The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose ; The hearth, except when winter chilled the day. With aspen boughs, and flowers and fennel gay. While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show, Banged o'er the chimney, glistened in a row. Vain transitory splendors ! couhl not all Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall ! Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart An hour's importance to the poor man's heart ; Thither no more the peasant shall repair, , To sweet oblivion of his daily care ; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail ; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, Relax his pnn-irrnu- •tiTni:t!i. ami Icni tu hear ; The host liini->'ll n- 1m,,^> v -li.ill !„• |.,inHl, Careful to ^- trifl.rs half their wish obtain, The toiling pleasure sickens into pain ; And, e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart distrusting asks if this be joy ! Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's dcoay, 'T is yours to judge how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land. Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore, And shouting Folly hails them from her shore ; Hoards even beyond the miser's wish abound. And rich men flock from all the world around. Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name, Tliat leaves our useful products still the same. Not so tho loss. The man of wealth and pride Takes up a space that many poor supplied ; Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds ; The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth Hasi' Irnci." li.i.N ihc sons of wealth divide, Antl f\iM tii. li:iM -u"i II CMinmon is denied. If tntl,,. ,■,!> To see protu.i^ To see ten then To pamper lux , the T0£ Ext*)rtcd from h Here, while the There tho pale a ier glitters in brocade, plies the sickly trade ; [play. Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps dis- There the black gibbet glooms beside the way. Tho dome where Pleasure holds her midnight reign, Here, richly decked, admits the gorgeous train ; RURAL POETRY. GOLDSMITH. Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square, The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ! Sure these denote one universal joy ! Are these thy serious thoughts? — Ah, turn thine Where the poor, houseless, shirring female lies, [eyes She once, perhaps, in village plenty blest, Has wept at tales of innocence distrest ; Her modest looks the cottage might adorn. Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn ; Now lost to all — her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's door she lays her head, [shower. And, pinched with cold, and shrinking from the With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, When idly first, ambitious of the town. She left her wheel and robes of country brown. Do thine, sweet Auburn, thine the loveliest train. Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Even now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led, At proud men's doors they ask a little bread ! Ah, no ! To distant climes, a dreary scene. Where half the convex world intrudes between, Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. Far different there from all that charmed before, The various terrors of that horrid shore ; Those blazing suns, that dart a downward ray. And fiercely shed intolerable day ; Those matted woods where birds forget to sing, And silent bats in drowsy clusters cling ; Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crowned. Where the dark scorpion gathers death around ; Where at each step the stranger fears to wake The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake ; Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey. And savage men more murderous still than they ; While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies. Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies. Far diff'erent these from every former scene. The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green. The breezy covert of the warbling grove. That only sheltered thefts of harmless love. ! gloomed that parting Good heaven ! what ! day. That called them from their native walks away ; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round the bowers, and fondly looked their last. And took a long farewell, ajid wished in vain For seats like these beyond the western main ; And, shuddering still to face the distant deep. Returned and wopt, and still returned to weep. The good old sire the first prepared to go To new-found worlds, and wept for other's woe ; But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, The fond companion of his helpless years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms. And left a lover's for a father's arms. With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes. And blest the cot where every pleasure rose ; And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear. And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear ; Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief In all the silent manliness of grief. LUXCBV DESOrSCED J THE RCI.V OP NATIOSS. 0, luxury ! thou cursed by heaven's decree. How ill exchanged are things like these for thee ! How do thy potions, with insidious joy. Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy ! Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown. Boast of a fiorid vigor not their own : At every draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe ; Till sapped their strength, and every part unsound, Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round. REFLECTIO.VS OS EMIfTRATIOX. — THE RrHiL VIBTCES EXILED. Even now the devastation is begun. And half the business of destruction done ; Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail. That idly waiting flaps with every gale. Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. Contented toil, and hospitable care. And kind connubial tenderness are there ; And piety with wishes placed above. And steady loyalty, and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid ! Still first to fly where sensual joys invade ; Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame. To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried. My shame in crowds, my solitary pride. Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe. Thou found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so : Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel, Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well ! Farewell ! and, ! where'er thy voice he tried. On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's side, Whether where equinoctial fervors glow. Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, Still let thy voice, prevailing over time. Redress the rigors of the inclement clime : Aid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain. Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain ; Teach him that states, of native strength possest, Though very poor, may still bo very blest ; That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay. As ocean sweeps the labored mole away ; While self-dependent power can time defy, As rocks resist the billows and the sky. 'plural §uu\s of |lraisr for ^Uarrl). BRYANT'S " FOREST HYMN." The grovo3 were God's first templos. Ere man To how the shaft, and lay the architrave, [learned And spread the roof above them, — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; — in the darkling wood. Amidst the oool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication. For his simple heart Might not resist the sacred influences, That, from the stilly twilight of the place. And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit with the thought of boundless power And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect (jod's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised ? Let mo, at least. Hero, in the shadow of this aged wood. Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find Acceptance in his ear. Father, thy hand Ilath reared these venerable columns. Thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees. They in thy sun Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, And shot towards heaven. The century-living crow, Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till, at last, they stood. As now they stand, massy and tall and dark ; Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker. Here are seen No traces of man's pomp or pride ; — no silks Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair works. But Thou art here — Thou fiU'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summits of these trees In music ; — Thou art in the cooler breath. That, from the inmost darkness of the place. Comes, scarcely felt ; — the barky trunks, the ground. The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with Thee. Here is continual worship ; — nature, hero. In the tranquillity that Thou dost love. Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around. From perch to perch, the solitary bird Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, 'midst its herbs. Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left Thyself without a witness, in these shades. Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, Are here to speak of Thee. This mighty oak — By whose immovable stem I stand and seem Almost untiiliilatfd — not a prince. In all till |.[ 111 mM w. .rid beyond the deep, E'n « M III I ■> loftily as he Wi.i; !i I iiiijil of leaves with which Thy liiMil 111 .:i.ii .1 him. Nestled at his root Is btauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun. That delicate forest-flower, With scented breath, and Innk sn like a smile. Seems, as it issues fritm t!i. ~!i ii- 1. - Mi..uld, An emanation of the i 1 1 i 1 . _ I A visible token of tli.- n; . i _ 1 That are the soul of thi- m i.|. mm ■■!-■■ My heart is awed within me, when I think Of the great miracle that still goes on, In silence, round me — the perpetual work Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed Forever. Written on thy works I read The lesson of thy own eternity. Lo ! all grow old and die — but see, again. How on the faltering footsteps of decay Youth presses — ever gay and beautiful youth In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees Wave not less proudly that their ancestors Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost One of earth's charms : upon her bosom yet, After the flight of untold centuries. The freshness of her far beginning lies. And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate Of his 'arch enemy Death — yea, seals himself Upon the si'|iu!i'lirr, ami l.liiMiii- aii'i Miiik-S, Makes his own luinii-liiiinit. I'..r 111' raiiie forth From thine uwu bu^um, and sliall !i;lvc no end. There have been holy men who hid themselves Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived The generation born with them, nor seemed Less aged than tho hoary trees and rocks Around them ; — and there have been holy men Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. But let me often to these solitudes Retire, and in thy presence reassure My feeble virtue. Here its encmic.i. The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink And tremble and are still. God ! when Thou 40 RURAL POETRY. BRYANT MERRICK MILTON. Dost scare the world with tempests, sett'st on fire The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fiU'st With all the waters of the firmament The swift dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods And drowns the villages : when, at thy call. Uprises the great deep and throws himself Upon the continent, and overwhelms Its cities — who forgets not, at the sight Of these tremendous tokens ef thy power. His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? O, from these sterner aspects of thy face Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath Of the ma|.t. :in,| without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night. If better thou belong not to the dawn. Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling mori , ]'r;ii-i.' Him in thy sphere, •\w 1 1 linur of prime. I u-ii hi l)oth eye and soul, gi' ai.T, sound his praise both when thou climb'st, hast gained, and when thou in, now fly'st. With thy bri fill I Whileday an . Thou Sun, ..r III Acknowledge 1 1 In thy eternal e And when high fall'st. Moon, that now meet'st th With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies, And ye five other wandering fires that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light. Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gr.ay. Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold. In honor to the world's great Author rise, AVhether to deck with clouds the uncolored sky. Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers. Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow. Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye Pines, With every Plant in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow. Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices, all ye living Souls ; ye Birds, That, singing, up to heaven's gate ascend. Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Vc tliiii 111 uatrr,- -li.le, and ye that walk Tlh' .a till, a III I talrly tread, or lowly creep ; To hill ur Millcy, luuiitain, or fresh shade. Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail, universal Lord ! be bounteous still To give us only good ; and if the night Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. ''^^''?U\V . SPRING-APRIL, liMoointic Ill's ''Jarnur's tUii. Invocation, kc. Seed-time. Tl Milking. The d.iiry. Sufft forth. Sheep fnn butcher. Morning walks. v5uiit.iK tiiccse. spring coming fnnit uf changing. Laraibs at piay. The ipathy yields to Necessity and Hope. COME, blest Spirit ! whatsoe'er thou art, Thou rushing warmth that hover'st round my heart, Sweet inmate, hail ! thou source of sterling joy, That poverty itself cannot destroy. Be thou my Muse ; and, faithful still to mo, Retrace the paths uf wild obscurity. No deeds of arms my humblo linos rehearse, No Alpine wonders thunder through my verso. The roaring cataract, the snow-topt hill, Inspiring awe, till breath itself stands still : Nature's sublimer scenes ne'er charmed mine oyea. Nor science led me through the boundlesjs skies ; From meaner objects far my-rapturos flow : 0, point these raptures ! bid my bosom glow ! And lead my soul to ecstasies of praise For all the blessings of my infant days ! Bear me through regions where gay fancy dwells ; But mould to truth's fair form what memory tells. GILES, THE farmer's BOY, HIS JOTS, SORROWS, AND IDEAS ; Live, trifling incidents, and grace my song, That to the humblest menial belong : To him whose drudgery unheeded goes. His joys unreckoned as his cares or woes ; Though joys and cares in every path are sown. And youthful minds have feelings of their own, Quick springing sorrows, transient as the dew, Delights from trifles, trifles ever new. 'T was thus with Gii-es : meek, fatherless, and poor : Labor his portion, but ho felt no more ; No stripes, no tyranny, his steps pursued ; Ilis life was constant, cheerful servitude : Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look, The fields his study, nature was his book ; And, as revolving Seasons changed the scene From heat to cold, tempestuous to serene. Though every change still varied his employ, Vet each new duty brought its sharo of joy. RURAL POETRY. BLOOMFIELD. Giles's home and master. — grafton. — euston, in sh folk ; scenes of giles's boyhood. Where noble Grafton spreads his rich domains, Round Euston's watered vale, and sloping plains, Where woods and groves in solemn grandeur rise, Where the kite brooding unmolested flies ; The woodeocls and the painted pheasant race. And skulking foxes, destined for the chase ; There Giles, untaught Through every cii|im'. There his first tli.iuuli That stamp devition < og, strayed ul winding glade; ^ charms inclined, A little farm hi.s generous master tilled. Who with peculiar grace his station filled ; By deeds „f l,..siiit:ility c„,l,.arc.l, Served I'l !i..ti.n,, l-r hi- wmlh revered; Ahii|.|iv -li-i-inr, l.l.-i 111- |.|.iilruus board, His ficMs u.iv Ini.lliil, iiiul h,~ iKuns well stored. And four-score ewes he fed, a sturdy team. And lowing kine that grazed beside the stream : Unceasing industry he kept in view ; And never lacked a job for Giles to do. THE COMING OF SPRING ; VERDURE. Fled now the sullen murmurs of the north, The splendid raiment of the Spring peeps forth ; Her universal green, and the clear sky. Delight still more and more the gazing eye. Wide o'er the fields, in rising moisture strong. Shoots up the simple flower, or creeps along The mellowed soil ; imbibing fairer hues, Or sweets from frequent showers and evening dews ; That summon from its shed the slumbering ploughs. While health impregnates every breeze that blows. HORSE-PLOCGHISG ; THE PLOCGHED FIELD ; BIRDS THAT No wheels support the diving pointed share ; No groaning ox is doomed to labor there ; No helpmates teach the d teed his road and the goad); es hi; Draws his lif»h |.:ualklf, and, widening still. Treads slow the heavy dale, or climbs the hill : Strong on the wing his busy followers play, [day ; AVhere writhing earth-worms meet the unwelcome Till all is changed, and hill and level down Assume a livery of sober brown : — Hour after hour and day to day succeeds ; Till every clod and deep-drawn furrow spreads To crumbling mould ; a level surface clear. And strewed with oift-n to crown the rising year ; And o'er the whole Giles once transverse again, In earth's moist bosom buries up the grain. The work is done ; no more to Man is given ; The grateful farmer trusts the rest to Heaven. Yet oft with anxious heart he looks around. And marks the first green blade that breaks the In fancy sees his trembling oats uprun, [ground ; His tufted barley yellow with the sun ; Sees clouds propitious shed their timely store, And all his harvest gathered round his door. Ihit still unsafe tliv 1m:_- -v,,.;,, .,i,nn l..>l.)w, A favorite morsel with lli- n".l> ;uM -r.nv ; From field to field the fluck increasing goes ; To level crops most formidable foes : Their danger well the wary plunderers know. And place a watch on some conspicuous bough ; Yet oft the skulking gunner by surprise Will scatter death amongst them as they rise. These, bung in triumph round the spacious field. At best will but a short-lived terror yield : Nor guards of property (not penal law. But harmless riflemen of rags and straw) ; Familiarized to these, they boldly rove. Nor heed such sentinels that never move. Let, then, your birds lie prostrate on the earth. In dying posture, and with wings stretched forth ; Shift them at eve or morn from place to place. And death shall terrify the pilfering race ; In the mid air, while circling round and round, They call their lifeless comrades from the ground ; With quickening wing, and notes of loud alarm. Warn the whole flock to shun the impending harm. GILES'S WALK AT DAWN ; HIS MATINS, AND THOSE OF THE MORNING BIRDS ; THE BLACKBIRD, WHITE-THROAT, TUIICSH. This task had Giles, in fields remote from home ; Oft has he wished the rosy mom to come. \'et never famed was he nor foremost found To break the seal of sleep ; his sleep was sound : But when at daybreak summoned from his bed. Light as the lark that carolled o'er his head, — His sandy way deep-worn by hasty shower: Again disturbed, when Giles with wearying strides From ridge to ridge the ponderous harrow guides ; His heels deep sinking every step he goes. Till dirt usurp the empire of his shoes. Welcome, green headland ! firm beneath his feet ; Welcome the friendly bank's refreshing seat ; There, warm with toil, his panting horses browse Their sheltering canopy of pendent boughs ; Till rest, delicious, chase each transient pain. And new-born vigor swell in every vein. rched with oaks that formed fantastic bowers, Waving aloft their towering branches proud. In borrowed tinges from the eastern cloud (Whence inspiration, pure as ever flowed, And genuine transport in his bosom glowed) — His own shrill matin joined the various notes Of nature's music, from a thousand throats : The blackbird strove with emulation sweet. And echo answered from her close retreat ; The sporting white-throat, on some twig's end borne Poured hymns to freedom and the rising morn ; 43 Stopped in her song, perobanoe, the starting thrush Shook a white shower from the black-thoru bush, Where dew-drops thick as early blossoms bung, And trembled as the minstrel sweetly sung. PHEASANT. — TUB OBATU ; WOOU J FOX AND HIS VICTIMS. Acro.ss his path, in either grove to hide, The timid rabbit scouted by his side ; Or bold cock-pheasant stalked along the road, Whose gold and purple tints alternate glowed. But groves no further fenced the devious way ; A wide-extended heath before him lay, M'hcre on the grass the stagnant shower had run. And shone a mirror to the rising sun (Thus doubly seen), lighting a distant wood. Giving new life to each expanding bud ; EtFacing quick the dewy foot-marks found, Where prowling lleynard trod his nightly round ; To shun whose thefts 't was Giles's evening care Ilis feathered victims to suspend In air, High on the bough that nodded o'er his head ; And thus each morn to strew the field with dead. His simple errand done, he homeward hies ; Another instantly its place supplies. The clattering dairy-maid immersed in steam, Singing and scrubbing midst her milk and cream. Bawls out, ' Go fetch the cows ! ' — he hears no more ; For pigs, and ducks, and turkeys, throng the door. And sitting hens, for constant war prepared ; A concert strange to that which late he heard. Straight to the meadow then he whistling goes ; With well-known halloo calls his lazy cows : Down the rich pasture heedlessly they graze, Or hear the summons with an idle gaze ; For well they know the cow-yard yields no more Its tempting fragrance, nor Its wintry store. Reluctance marks their steps, sedate and slow ; The right of conquest all the law they know : Subordinate they one by one succeed ; And one among them always takes the lead, Is ever foremost, whercsoo'er they stray ; Allowed precedence, undisputed sway ; With jealous pride her station is maintained. For many a broil that post of honor gained. At home, the yard affords a grateful scone : For Spring makes e'en a miry cow-yard clean. Thence from its chalky bed behold convoyed The rich manure that drenching Winter made, Which, piled near home, grows green with many a A promised nutriment fi)r Autumn's seed. [weed, Forth comes the maid, and like the mornjng smiles; The mistress too, and followed close by Giles. A friendly tripod forms their humble seat, With pails bright scoured, and delicately sweet. Where shadowing elms obstruct the morning ray. Begins their work, begins the simple lay ; The full-charged udder yields its willing streams, While Mary sings some lover's amorous dreams ; And crouching Giles beneath a neighboring tree Tugs o'er his pail, and chants with eiiuul glee ; AVhose hat with tattered brim, of nap so bare, From the cow's side purloins a coat of hair, A mottled ensign of his harmless trade, An unambitious, peaceable cockade. As unambitious, too, that cheerful aid The mistress yields beside her rosy maid : With joy she views her plenteous recking s And bears a brimmer to the dairy door ; Ilcr o..w^ .liMiiiys.'.l, the lusrinus uu-.vl I., r Till •■'-•■ .■,.,,,, ,.>,,ll th..M 1^.;M..I i ■ At once luregueti iU quality and name ; From knotty particles first floating wide Cc.n<;caliim' InittrrV -la-ln-.I fr^m side to side ; Sir- .1111- ■■: I,. *■, ;(iiii. ilii ..n^:i tl.nving coolcrs stray. An. I mill wholesome whey. I'ui . li: _ II.: I \\ -. cold and clear, I'ur uaiiiiiii^ .-Liiil-.aai.- aiL uiiuclcomo here. Brisk goes the work beneath each busy hand, And Giles must trudge, whoever gives command ; A Gibeonite, that serves them all by turns : He drains the pump, from him the fagot burns ; From him the noisy hog?: demand th.-ir f..od ; While at his heelsVun nl,M,^ ,, -In, in,, I. mud. Or down his path in r\] ■ i' . u i i With equal claims uiMii ',i ii i, i,i_ ,ih.[. Thus wastes the mom, lill > r h uitli i I. ;i-iiro sees The bustle o'er, and pressed the new-made cheese. srPFOLK SKra-MILK CUHKSE. — LONDON THE GRAVE 0? PRO- VISIONS ; ITS MARKET AND SUPPLIES. Unrivalled stands thy country cheese, Giles ! Whose very name alone engenders smiles ; Whose fame abroad by every tongue is spoke, The well-kuown butt of many a flinty joke, That pass like current coin the nation through ; And, ah ! experience proves the satire true. Provision's grave, thou ever-craving mart, Dependent, huge Metropolis ! where Art IK-r pouring thousands stows in breathless rooms, Midst pois'nous smokes and steams, and rattling Where grandeur revels in unbounded stores; [looms; Restraint, a slighted stranger at their doors ! Thou, like a whirlpool, drain'st the countries round, Till London market, London price, resound Through every town, round every passing load, And dairy produce throngs the eastern road : Delicious veal, and butter, every hour, From Essex lowlands, and the banks of Stour ; And further far, where numerous herds repose, From Orwell's brink, from Wevony, or Ouse. RURAL POETRY. BLOOMFIELD. DESCRIPTION OF THE I 3 run mad for cream, thing but its name ; ty treads, lilie these, Hence Suefolk ' dairy-wi And leave their milk with Its name derision And strangers tell To cheese converti'^l, wlmi '^ni ^"- "■ ouclm. . What, but the ci.iiHiH.ii lirtu-"! ;. iiost! If drought o'ertak. il l.^t,-, th.n .!,,■ kmfe. Most fair it bids for stubborn length of life. And, like the oaken shelf whereon 't is laid, Mocks the weak efforts of the bending blade Or in the hog-troii-li nvt-^ in perfrct spite, Toobig to swall"". ini'l '■'•• b:ii'l *" ''i'^'=- Inglorious vieturv ' Or Severn's flowery 'l:i Was your rich milk tc Farewell your pride ! farewell renowned ch The skimmer dread, whose ravages alone Thus turn the mead's sweet nectar into stoi Neglected now the early daisy lies : Nor thou, pale primrose, bloom'st the only prize : Advancing Spring profusely spreads abroad Flowers of all hues, with sweetest fragrance stored ; Where'er she treads, Love gladdens every plain. Delight on tiptoe bears her lucid train ; Sweet Hope with conscious brow before her flies. Anticipating wealth from summer skies ; All nature feels her renovating sway ; The sheep-fed pasture, and the meadow gay. And trees, and shrubs, no longer budding seen. Display the new-grown branch of lighter green ; On airy downs the shepherd idling lies. And sees to-morrow in the marbled skies. ■ Here, then, my soul, thy darling theme pursue, For every day was Giles a shepherd too. High fences, proud to charm the gazing eye. Where many a nestling first essays to fly ; Where blows the woodbine, faintly streaked with red. And rests on every bough its tender head ; Round the young ash its twining branches meet. Or orown the hawthorn with its odors sweet. PLEASIIKE IN TBE GAMBOLS who have felt and s FOOD NECESSARY-, FENCES, WOODBINE, ASH, UA« IIK'H.'.. Small was his charge : no wilds had" they to roam But bright enclosures circling round their home. Nor yellow-blossomed furze, nor stubborn thorn. The heath's rough produce, had their fleeces torn : Yet ever roving, ever seeking thee. Enchanting spirit, dear Variety ! happy tenants, prisoners of a day ! Released to ease, to pleasure, and to play ; Indulged through every field by turns to range, And taste them all in one continual change. For though luxuriant their grassy food. Sheep long confined but loathe the present good ; Bleating around the homeward gate they meet. And starve, and pine, with plenty at their feet. Loosed from the winding lane, a joyful throng, See, o'er yon pasture how they pour along ! Giles round their boundaries takes his usual stroll ; Sees every pass secured, and fences whole ; 1 Suffolk, a county ui the eastern part of Englan.1, with the North Si bridgeshire v „t Norfolk north, Essex south, and Cam- t i population in 1851, 337,000. SVMPATHT WITH INNOCENCE Say, ye that know, ye Spring's morning smiloH, Say, did you give the tli Did your eye brighten, ' Leaped o'er your path n Or gazed in merry eUi>t. Yo who can smile, to wi If spotless innocence, and infant mirth, Excites to praise, or gives reflection birth ; In shades like these pursue your favorite joy. Midst Nature's revels, sports that never cloy. LAMBKINS AT PLAY. A few begin a short but vigorous race. And indolence abashed soon flies the place ; Thus challenged forth, see thither, one by one. From every side assembling playmates run : A thousand wily antics mark their stay, A starting crowd, impatient of delay. Like the fond dove from fearful prison freed, Each seems to say, ' Come, let us try our speed ; ' Away they scour, impetuous, ardent, strong. The green turf trembling as they bound along ; Adown the slope, then up the hillock climb. Where every molehill is a bed of thyme ; There panting stop ; yet scarcely can refrain ; A bird, a leaf, will set them off again : Or, if a gale with strength unusual blow. Scattering the wild-brier roses into snow, Tlieir little limbs increasing efforts try ; Like the torn flower the fair assemblage fly. LAMBS, LIKE SPRING FLORETS, DESTINED TO EARLY DEATH. Ah, fallen rose ! sad emblem of their doom ; Frail as thyself, they perish while they bloom ! Though unoffending innocence may plead. Though frantic ewes may mourn the savage deed. Their shepherd comes, a messenger of blood, And drives them bleating from their sports and food : Care loads his brow, and pity wrings his heart. For, lo, the murdering butcher with his cart Demands the firstlings of bis flock to die, And makes a sport of life and liberty ! His gay companions Giles beholds no more ; Closed are their eyes, their fleeces drenched in gore; Nor can compassion, with her softest notes. Withhold the knife that plunges through their Down, indignation ! hence, ideas foul ! [throats. Away the shocking image from my soul ! Let kindlier visitants attend my way. Beneath approaching Summer's fervid ray ; Nor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy, Whilst the sweet theme is Universal Joy. 4!:istor:il5 for J^jri 'TITYUUS AND MELIBtEUS." A BUCOI.IC. I Miintuan neighbors in the < Bexeath the shade which becohen boughs diffuse, You, Tityrus, entertain your sylvan muse ; Kound the wide world in banishment wo roam, Forced from our plesvsing fields and 'native home ; While, stretched at ease, you sing your happy loves ; And Amaryllis fills the shady groves. TITVBrS. These blessings, friend, a deity bestowed ; For never can I deem him less than god. The tender firstlin<;s •■{my wnMlly l.ieed Shall on his holy ;iltav. lit,,, 1,1 i. He gave my kine tc> -m/r th,- iIum'i v phiin, And to my pijKj reiu'wia the nual >lniin. I envy not your fortune, but admire, That while the raging sword and wasteful fire Destroy the wretched neighborhood around, No hostile arms approach your happy ground. Far different is my fate ; my feeble goats With pains I drive from their forsaken cots ; And this you see I scarcely drag along, AVho yeaning on the rocks has left her young (The hope and promise of my failing fold). My loss, by dire portents, the gods foretold ; For, had I not been blind, I might have seen Yon riven oak, the fairest of the green. And the hoarse raven, on the blasted bough, By croaking from the left presaged the coming blow. But tell me, Tityrus, what heavenly power Preserved your fortunes in that fatal hour? Fool that I wai! ! I tliought imperial Rome Like Mantua, where on market-days we come. And thither drive our tender lambs from home. So kids and whelps their sires and dams express ; .\nd so the great T measured by the less. liut country-towns, compared witli her, appear Like shrubs, when lofty cypresses are near. What great occasion called you hence to Rome ? Freedom, which camo at length, though slow to Nor did my search of liberty begin, [come. Till my black hairs were changed upon my chin : Nor .^ma^ylIis would vouchsafe a look. Till i;;,l:,t.:,' .,h ;M1. , I.Hlids I broke. Till iIm II .1 in Ipl, li.,|iele.ss, homely swain, I sniijir III ii . I i !i: iinr ospircd to gain ; Th..„^-1, „i;,„> :, , , i„, iv„„, „,y folds was bought. And many a .-li. i -. 1m imiiilIiv miirkets brought, Yetall thelittl.' iln.t I -..i I -|,r,it. And still returiRil a- miiitv :t- I went. We stood amazed to see your mistress mourn ; Unknowing that she pined for your return : We wondered why she kept her fruit so long, For whom so late the ungathered apples hung. But now the wonder ceases, since I see She kept them only, Tityrus, for thee. For thee the bubbling springs appeared to mourn. And whispering pines made vows for thy return. What shonld I do? while here I was enchained ; No glimpse of godlike liberty remained ; Nor could I hope in any place but there To find a god so present to my prayer. There first the youth of heavenly birth I viewed. For whom our monthly victims are renewed. Ho heard my vows, and graciously decreed My grounds to be restored, my former flocks to feed. 0, fortunate old man ! whoso farm remains l''or you sufficient, and requites your pains, Tliough rushes overspread the neighboring plains. Though hero the marshy grounds approach your And there the soil a stony harvest yields. [fields. Your teeming ewes shall no strange meadows try, Nor fear a rot from tainted company. Behold, yon bordering fence of sallow trees [bees ; Is fraught with flowers, the flowers are fraught with The busy bees, with a soft, murmuring strain. Invite to gentle sleep the laboring swain ; While from the neighboring rock, with rural songs, The pruncr's voice the pleasing dream prolongs ; Stock-doves and turtles tell their amorous pain, And, from the loftj elms, of love complain. TITTBCS. The inhabitants of seas and skies shall change, And fish on shore and stags in air shall range, The banished Parthian dwell on Arar's brink. And the blue German shall the Tigris drink, Ere I, forsaking gratitude and truth, Forget the figure of that godlike youth. MELIBCECS. But we must beg our bread in climes unknown, Beneath the scorching or the freezing zone : And some to far Oasis shall be sold, Or try the Libyan heat ..r Scythiiui cold ; The rest amon>; tli- I'.iiiin- l.r r,,i,|i„iHl, — A race of men I r . iii ' i' . i 'li-,i"inijd. 6, must the wr. t . i . ii . i inMuni, Nor after length ul lullin- ,) i.ii-- ii-turn? Are we condemned, by fate's unjust decree. No more our houses and our homes to see ? Or shall wo mount again the rural throne, And rule the country kingdoms, once our own? Did we for these barbarians plant and sow ? On these, on these, our happy fields bestow? [flow ! Good Heaven ! what dire effects from civil discord Now let me graft my pears, and prune the vine — Tliu fruit is theirs, the labor only mine. Farewell my pastures, my paternal stock. My fruitful fields, and my more fruitful flock ! No more, my goats, shall I behold you climb The steepy cliffs, or crop the flowery thyme ! No more, extended in the grot below. Shall see you browsing on the mountain's brow The prickly shrubs ; and after on the bare, Lean down the deep abyss, and hang in air. No more my sheep shall sip the morning dew ; No more my song shall please the rural crew ; Adieu, my tuneful pipe ! and all the world adieu ! This night, at least, with me forget your care ! Chestnuts and curds and cream shall be your fare ; The carpet-ground shall be with leaves o'erspread. And boughs shall weave a covering for your head. For, see ! yon sunny hill the shade extends, And curling smoke from cottages ascends ! HERBERT-S "NORTHERN SPRING.^ A DESCRIPTIVE IDYL. Yestreen the mountain's rugged brow ■\Vas mantled o'er with dreary snow ; The sun set red behind the hill. And every breath of wind was still ; But ere he rose, the southern blast A veil o'er heaven's blue arch had cast ; Thick rolled the clouds, and genial rain Poured the wide deluge o'er the plain. Fair glens and verdant vales appear. And warmth awakes the budding year. 0, 't is the touch of fairy hand That wakes the spring of northern land ! It warms not there by slow degrees. With changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze ; But sudden on the wondering sight Bursts forth the beam of living light, And instant verdure springs around. And magic flowers bedeck the ground. Returned from regions far away, The red-winged throstle pours his lay ; The soaring snipe salutes the spring, While the breeze whistles through his wing ; And, as he hails the melting snows, The heath-cock claps his wing and crows. IIELEAGER'S "SPRING.' AN IDYL. TRANSLATED BY J. S. BUCKMINSTBR.' Now Winter's storms, which chilled the sky. Before the tepid breezes fly ; Smiling advance the rosy hours. Strewing around their purple flowers ; Brown earth is crowned with herbage green. And decked with bloom each twig is seen ; The rose displays its lovely hues In meads, which quaff the morning dews ; His whistle shrill the shepherd blows ; His kids the gladsome goatherd knows ; E'en now I see the sailor's boat, Wafted by gentle breezes, float ; And Bacchus' girls, with ivy crowned. Shout, lo ! through the echoing ground. The bees in clusters round the hive. Loaded with liquid sweets, arrive ; And, murmuring still in busy mood. Elaborate their luscious food. The race of warblers ' pour their throats ; ' The blue wave wafts the halcyon's notes ; The swallow twittering flits along ; The white swan pours his piercing song ; And Philomela mourns the woods among. Does, then, the green earth teem with gladness 7 Has Nature dropt her robe of sadness ? Do the swains pipe ; the flocks rejoice ; The mountains echo Bacchus' voice ; The mariners their sails unloose ; The bees distil their luscious juice ? Has spring inspired the warbling throng ? — And can't the poet make a song ? of Decapolia, east of the Sea of Galilee. He wrote in Greek, ard first collected a Greek Anthology. The translation was made hy that eleirant schol.ir, the lamented pastor of Brat- '■ 1 church, Boston, and first appeared in the Litertu-y Miscellany, 1805. ^nnstroiui's "^rt of iljcaltl).' ADDBES3 TO HEALTH. — HER ATTRIBUTES AND POWER. Daighter of Piean, queen of every joy, Hygcia ; ' whose indulgent smile sustains The various race lu.\uriant nature pours, Anil on the immortal essences bestows Immortal youth ; auspicious, descend ! Thou, cheerful guardian of the rolling year. Whether thou wauton'st on the western gale, Or shak'st the rigid pinions of the north, Diffusest life and vigor tlimugh the tracts Of air, through earth, and ..ccan's deep domain. When through the blue serenity of heaven Thy power approaches, all the wasteful host Of pain and sickness, squalid and deformed, Confounded sink into the loathsome gloom, Where, in deep Erebus involved, the fiends Grow more profane. Whatever shapes of death, Shook from the hideous chambers of the globe, Swarm through the shuddering air: whatever plagues Or meagre famine breeds, or with slow wings Rise from the putrid watery element. The damp waste forest, motionless and rank. That smothers earth and all the breathless winds, Or the vile carnage of the inhuman field ; Whatever baneful breathes the rotten south ; Whatever ills the extremes or sudden change Of cold and hot, or moist and dry, produce ; They fly thy pure effulgence ; they, and all The secret poisons of avenging Heaven, And all the pale tribes halting in the train Of vice and heedless pleasure : or if aught The comet's glare amid the burning sky. Mournful eclipse, or planets ill combined, Portend disastrous to the vital world. Thy salutary power averts their rage. Averts the general bane : and but for thee Nature would sicken, nature soon would die. Without thy cheerful active energy No rapture swells the breast, no poet sings. No more the maids of Ilelicim delight. Come, then, with me, goddess, heavenly-gay ! Begin the song ; and let it sweetly flow. And let it sweetly teach thy wholesome laws : ' How best the fickle fabric to support Of mortal man ; in healthful body how 1 Hygeia, the goildcss of health, was, according to 1 genealogy of the heathen deities, the daughter of £sculaptu who, as well as Apollo, was distinguished by the name Pseon, Psean, or Pieeon. A healthful mind the longest to maintain.' 'T is hard, in such a strife of rules, to ehooso The best, and those of most extensive use ; Harder in clear and animated song Dry philosophic precepts to convey. Yet with tliy aid the secret wilds I trace Of nature, and with daring steps proceed Through paths the muses never trod before. Nor should T wander doubtful of my way. Had 1 tilt; liu'lit- ..f tliat .sagacious mind Wlji.'li i:iH.:lii I" i h. n^u-, tnhgue the loins. Then ii:iirliiiiL'- Im ;it -iii.'.-.d-, till ropious sweats O'erflou — ;i -lp>ii ;. hrf tnim furnior ills. Benealli M|ir:ii.i| ~li. irks the wretches pine ; The \\'2-'\ -ink-. I In- li;ihit melts away ; The clin rtiil, jmir, ;nMl iiniraated bloom Dies from the face, with squalid atrophy Devoured, in sallow melancholy clad. And oft the sorceress, in her sated wrath, Resigns them to the furies of her train ; The bloated Hydrops, and the yellow fiend Tinged with her owu-accumulated gall. aOPSy, PALSY, GOCT, AGE In quest of sites, avoid the mournful plain Where osiers thrive, and trees that love the lake ; Where many lazy, muddy rivers flow : Nor, for the wealth that all the Indies roll, Fix near the marshy margin of tho miiin. For from the humid soil and watery reign Eternal vapors rise ; the spongy air Forever weeps ; or, turgid with the weight Of waters, pours a sounding deluge down. Skies such as these let every mortal shun Who dreads the dropsy, palsy, or the gout. Tertian,, corrosive scurvy, or catarrh ; Or any other injury that grows From raw-spun fibres, idle and unstrung. Skin ill-perspiring, and the purple flood In languid eddies loitering into phlegm. Yet not alone from humid skies we pine ; For Air may be too dry. The subtle heaven. That winnows into dust the blasted downs, Bare and extended wide without a stream. Too fast imbibes the attenuated lymph. Which by the surface from the blood exhales. The lungs grow rigid, and with toil essay Their flexible vibrations ; or, inflamed, Their tender, ( \ri-iiiM\ iir_^ structure thaws. Spoiled of il- lnii|H.i \rln. |.-. the blood Amassoflri-; ntiKun.-, ;i .Ir.issy tide That slow u^ Letlir wiiinl. i> (liiuugh the veins ; Unactive in the services of life. Unfit to lead its pitchy current through The secret mazy channels of the brain. The melancholic Fieod (that worst despair Of physie) hence the rust-complexioned man Pursues, whose blood is dry, whose fibres gain Too stretehed a tone : and hence, in climes adust. So sudden tumults seize the trembling nerves. And burning fevers glow with double rage. Fly, if you can, these violent extremes Of Air ; the wholesome is nor moist nor dry. But as the power of choosing is denied To half mankind, a further task ensues ; How best to miti,L,'ate these fell extremes. How breatlif iinliui I r,-' v, lilirrlii_r clrmrnt, Or hazy atm- :■■ ■■.! n .-n-h.iii moulds To every elim. ■ - ■ ■: r '.r. ih. ;ni >'i;iy ; And he wlm 1ir-i r!,^' !..- - -t i:--r\ hn-.ithcd (So kind is native air), may in the feus Of Essex from inveterate ills revive At pure Montpelier or Bermuda caught. SPRING — APRIL. But if the raw and oosy heaven offend, Correct the soil, and dry the sources up Of watery exhalation ; wide and deep Conduct your trenches through the quaking bog ; Solicitous, with all your winding arts. Betray the unwilling lake into the stream ; And weed the forest, and invoke the winds To break the toils where strangled vapors lie ; Or through the thickets send the crackling flames. GOOD FntES. — ROAST MEATS ; Meantime at home with cheerful fire dispel The humid air : and let your table smoke "With solid roast or baked ; or what the herds Of tamer breed supply ; or what the wilds Yield to the toilsome pleasures of the chase. Generous your wine, the boast of ripening years ; lUit frugal be your cups : the languid frame, Vapid and sunk from yesterday's debauch, Shrinks from the cold embrace of watery heavens. But neither these, nor all ApoUo'-s arts. Disarm the dangers of the dropping sky, Unless with exercise and manly toil You brace your nerves, and spur the lagging blood. The fattening clime let all the suns of ease Avoid ; if indolence would wish to live, Go, yawn and loiter out the long slow year In fairer skies. Provokes to keener toils than sultry droughts Allow. But rarely wo such skies blaspheme. FICIAI. POSDS ; SCCCCLESI VEGETABLES J SOl'PS J BOILED If droughty regions parch The skin and lungs, and bake the thickening blood ; Deep in the waving forest choose your seat, Where fuming trees refresh the thirsty air ; .And wake the fountains from their secret beds, And into lakes dilate the rapid stream. Ilere spread your gardens wide ; and let the cool, The moist relaxing vegetable store. Prevail in each repast ; your food supplied By bleeding life, be gently wasted down, By soft decoction and a mellowing heat, Tu liquid balm ; or, if the solid mass Y'ou choose, ti)rmented in the boiling wave ; That through the thirsty channels of the blood A smooth, diluted chyle may ever flow. The fragrant dairy from its cold recess Its nectar, acid or benign, will pour To drown your thirst ; or let the mantling bowl Of keen sherbet the fickle taste relieve. For with the viscous blood the simple stream Will hardly mingle ; and fermented cups Oft dissipate more moisture than they give. Yet when pale seasons rise, or winter rolls Ilis horrors o'er the world, thou may'st indulge In feasts more genial, and impatient broach The mellow cask. Then too the scourging air Steeped in continual rains, or with raw fogs Bedewed, our seasons droop : incumbent still A ponderous heaven o'erwhelms the sinking soul. Laboring with storms, in heapy mountains rise The imbattled clouds, aa if the Stygian shades Had left the dungeon of eternal night. Till black with thunder all the south descends. Scarce in a showerless day the heavens indulge Our melting clime ; except the baleful oast Withers the tender spring, and sourly checks The fancy of the year. Our fathers talk Of summers, balmy airs, and skies serene. Good Heaven ! for what unexpiated crimes This dismal change '! The brooding elements. Do they, your powerful ministers of wrath, Prepare some fierce exterminating plague ? Or is it fixe