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Swiftly, from the mountain's brow,
Shadows, nurs'd by Night, retire;
And the peeping fun-beam, now,
Paints with gold the village fpire.

Philomel forfakes the thorn,

Plaintive where the prates at night;
And the lark, to meet the morn,
Soars beyond the fhepherd's fight.
From the low-roof'd cottage ridge,
See the chatt'ring fwallow fpring;
Darting through the one-arch'd bridge,
Quick fhe dips her dappled wing.

Now the pine-tree's waving top
Gently greets the morning gale;
Kidlings, now, begin to crop
Daifies, on the dewy dale.

From the balmy fweets, uncloy'd,
(Reflefs till her task be done,)
Now the bufy bee's employ'd,
Sipping dew before the fun.
Trickling through the crevic'd rock,
Where the limpid ftream diftils,
Sweet refreshment waits the flock,
When 'tis fun-drove from the hills.

Colin's for the promis'd corn

(Ere the harveft hopes are ripe) Anxious; whilft the huntfman's horn, Boldly founding, drowns his pipe.

Sweet-O fweet, the warbling throng, On the white emblofsom'd fpray! Nature's univerfal fong

Echoes to the rifing day.

NOON.

FERVID On the glitt'ring flood,

Now the noontide radiance glows: Drooping o'er its infant bud,

Not a dew-drop's left the rofe.

By the brook the fhepherd dines,
From the fierce meridian heat,
Shelter'd by the branching pines,
Pendant o'er his grassy seat.

Now the flock forfakes the glade,
Where uncheck'd the fun-beams fall,

Sure to find a pleasing shade
By the ivy'd abbey wall.

Echo, in her airy round,

O'er the river, rock, and hill, Cannot catch a fingle found,

Save the clack of yonder mill.

Cattle court the zephyrs bland,
Where the ftreamlet wanders cool;
Or with languid filence ftand
Midway in the marshy pool.

But from mountain, dell, or stream,
Not a flutt'ring zephyr fprings;

Fearful left the noontide beam

Scorch its foft, it's filken wings.

Not a leaf has leave to stir,

Nature's lull'd-ferene-and still!

Quiet e'en the fhepherd's cur,

Sleeping on the heath-clad hill.

Languid is the landscape round,
Till the fresh defcending fhow'r,
Grateful to the thirfty ground,
Raifes ev'ry fainting flow'r.

Now the hill-the hedge-are green,
Now the warblers' throats in tune;
Blithfome is the verdant fcene,
Brighten'd by the beams of Noon!

EVENING.

O'ER the heath the heifer ftrays
Free (the furrow'd tafk is done ;)
Now the village windows blaze,
Burnish'd by the setting fun.

Now he fets behind the hill,
Sinking from a golden sky:
Can the pencil's mimic fkill
Copy the refulgent dye?

Trudging as the ploughmen go,
(To the fmoaking hamlet bound,)
Giant like their fhadows grow,
Lengthen'd o'er the level ground.

Where the rifing foreft fpreads
Shelter for the lordly dome!
To their high-built airy beds,
See the rooks returning home!

As the lark, with vary'd tune,
Carols to the ev’ning loud;
Mark the mild refplendent moon,
Breaking through a parted cloud?

Now the hermit howlet peeps

From the barn or twisted brake;
And the blue mist slowly creeps,
Curling on the filver lake.
As the trout in fpeckled pride,
Playful from it's bofom fprings;

To the banks, a ruffled tide
Verges in fuccefsive rings.

Tripping through the filken grass
O'er the path-divided dale,
Mark the rofe-complexion'd lafs
With her well-pois'd milking pail!

Linnets with unnumber'd notes,

And the cuckoo-bird with two,

Tuning fweet their mellow throats,

Bid the fetting fun adieu.

SECTION XX.

The Order of Nature.

CUNNINGHAM.

SEE, thro' this air, this ocean, and this earth,
All matter quick, and bursting into birth.
Above, how high progressive life may go!
Around, how wide! how deep extend below!
Vaft chain of being! which from God began,
Nature ethereal, human; angel, man;
Beast, bird, fifli, infect, what no eye can see,
No glafs can reach; from infinite to thee,
From thee to nothing.-On fuperior pow'rs
Were we to prefs, inferior might on ours;
Or in the full creation leave a void,

Where, one ftep broken, the great fcale's deftroy'd:
From Nature's chain whatever link you ftrike,
Tenth or ten thoufandth, breaks the chain alike.

And, if each fyftem in gradation roll,
Alike effential to th' amazing whole,
The leaft confufion but in one, not all
That fyftem only, but the whole muft fall.
Let earth, unbalanc'd from her orbit fly,
Planets and funs run lawless thro' the fky;
Let ruling angels from their fpheres be hurl'd,
Being on being wreck'd, and world on world;
Heaven's whole foundations to their centre nod,
And Nature trembles to the throne of God.
All this dread ORDER break-for whom? for thee?
Vile worm! Oh madness! pride! impiety!
What if the foot, ordain'd the duft to tread,
Or hand, to toil, afpir'd to be the head?
What if the head, the eye, or ear, repin'd
To ferve mere engines to the ruling mind?
Juft as abfurd for any part to claim
To be another, in this gen'ral frame:
Juft as abfurd, to mourn the tasks or pains,
The great directing MIND OF ALL ordains.

All are but parts of one ftupendous whole,
Whofe body Nature is, and God the foul:
That, chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth, as in th' ethereal frame;
Warms in the fun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the ftars, and blofsoms in the trees;
Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unfpent;
Breathes in our foul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart;
As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns,
As the rapt feraph that adores and burns:
To him no high no low, no great no fmall;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.

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