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Near yonder copfe, where once the garden fmil'd, A man fevere he was, and ftern to view;
And still where many a garden flow'r grows wild, I knew him well, and every truant knew.
There, where a few torn fhrubs the place difclofe, Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to tr
The village preacher's modest manfion rofe. The day's difafters in his morning face:
A man he was to all the country dear,
Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited
And paffing rich with forty pounds a year; At all his jokes, for many a joke had be;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Full well the bufy whifper circling round
Nor'er had chang'd, nor with'd to change, his Convey'd the difmal tidings when he frowa
Unskilful he to fawn, or feek for pow'r, [place; Yet he was kind, or, if fevere in aught,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour; The love he bore to learning was in fault;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, The village all declar'd how much he know
More bent to raise the wretched than to rife. 'Twas certain he could write and cypher to
His houfe was known to all the vagrant train; Lands he could meafure, terms and tides pre
He chidtheirwand'rings, but reliev'd their pain. And ev'n the story ran that he could gange
The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, In arguing too the parfon own'd his kiil,
Whofe beard defcending fwept his aged breaft; For,even though vanquish'd, he could argue
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud, While words of learned length, and thund
Claim'd kindred there,and hadhisclaims allow'd;| found,
The broken foldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of forrow done,
Shoulder' his crutch,and fhew'd how fields were


Pleas'd with his guefs the good man learn'd to
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to fcan,
His pity gave ere charity began,

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And ev'n his failings lean'd to Virtue's fide;
But, in his duty prompt at ev'ry call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt her new-fledg'd offspring to the fkies:
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Befide the bed, where parting life was laid,
And forrow, guilt, and pain, by turns difay 'd.
The rev'rend champion ftood: At his controul
Defpair and anguish fled the struggling foul;
Comfort came downthe trembling wretch toraife,
And his last falt'ringaccents whisper'd praife.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double fway,
And fools, who came to fcoff, remain'd to pray.
The fervice paft, around the pious man,
With ready zeal each honeft rustic ran;
Ev'n children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown to fhare the good man's

is ready fimile a parent's warmth exprefs'd, Their welfare pleas'd him, and their care ditrefs'd;

To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his ferious thoughts had rett in heaven.
As fome tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the


Tho' roundits breaft the rolling clouds areípread,
Eternal funthine fettles on its head.

Befide yon traggling fence that skirts the way,
With bloffom furze unprofitably gay,
There, in his noify mansion skill'd to rule,
The village matter taught his little school;

Amaz'd the gazing ruftics rang'd around;
And ftill they gaz`d, and still the wonder gr
That one finall head could carry all he kne
But paft is all his fame,: the very spot,
Where many a time he triumph'd is forget

Near yonder thorn that lifts its head on h
Where once the fign-poft caught the palling
Low lies that houfe where nut-brown dra

Where grey-beard mirth and fmiling toil reti
Where village ftatesmen talk'd with looks ;

And news much older than their ale went roo
Imagination fondly ftoops to trace
The parlour fplendours of that feltive plac
The white-wash'd wall, the nicely fanded
The varnish'd clock that click'd behind


The cheft contriv'd a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a cheft of draw'rs by day;
The pictures plac'd for ornament and ue,
The twelve good rules, the royal game of
The hearth, except when winter chill'd the c
With afpen boughs,and flow'rs, and fennel
While broken tea-cups, wifely kept for they
Rang'd o'er the chimney, gliften'd in a row.

Vain tranfitory fplendour! could not all
Reprieve the tottring manfion from its fall
Obfcure it finks, nor thall it more impart
An hour's importance to the poor man's hea
Thither no more the peafant thall repair
To fwect oblivion of his daily care;
No more the farmer's new, the barber's tal
No more the woodman's ballad fhall prevail
No more the finith his dulky brow fhall clea
Relax his pond 'rous ftrength, and lean to hea
The hot himmelf no longer holl be found,
Careful to fee the mantling blifs go round;
Nor the coy maid, balf willing to be pret,
Shall kifs the cup to pafs it to the reft.

Yes! let the rich deride, the proud difdai
Thefe fimple bleffings of the lowly train:
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the glofs of art
Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play,
The foul adopts, and owns their firit-born f


Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind,

The dome where pleasure holds her midnight

The toiling pleafure fickens into pain;
And, ev'n while fashion's brighteft arts decoy,
The heart diftrafting aiks, if this be joy?
Ye friends to truth, pe fatefmen who furvey,
The rich man's joys increafe, the poor's decay,
Tis yours to judge how wide the limits ftand
Between a fplendid and a happy land.
Proud fwells the tide with loads of freighted ore,
And fhouting folly hails them from her fhore;
Hoards, ev'n beyond the mifer's with, abound,
And rich men flock from all the world around;
Yet count onrgains: this wealth is but a name
That leaves our afeful product still the fame.
Not fo the lofs: the man of wealth and pride
Takes up a space that many poor fupplied;
Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds,
Space for his horfes, equipage, and hounds;
The rube that wraps his limbs in filken floth,
Has robb'd the neighb'ring fields of half their

Unenvied unmolefted, unconfin'd:
But the long pomp, the midnight mafquerade, Here, richly deck'd, admits the gorgeous train;
With all the freaks of wanten wealth array'd,Tumultuous grandeur crouds the blazingfquare,
In thefe, ere trifters half their with obtain, The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare.
Sure fcenes like thefe no troubles e'er annoy!!
Sure thefe denote one univerfal joy! Leyes
Are these thy ferious thoughts? Ah, turn thine
Where the poor houfelefs fhiv'ring female lies.
She, once, perhaps, in village plenty bleft,
Has wept at tales of innocence diftreft;
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrofe peeps beneath the thorn;
Now loft to all; her friends, her virtue fled,
Near her betrayer's door the lays her head;
And pinch'd with cold, and fhrinking from the

His fest, where folitary fports are feen,
Indignant fpurns the cottage from the green;
Around the world tach needful product flies,
For all the luxuries the world fupplies.
While thus the land adorn'd for pleasure all,
le barren fplendour feebly waits the fall.

As fame fair female, unadorn'd and plain,
re to pleafe while youth confirms her reign,
Sights ev'ry borrow'd charm that drefs fupplies:
Nor fares with art the triumph of her eyes:
Butwhenthefecharmsarepaft (forcharmsarefrail)|
When time advances, and when lovers fail,
She then thines forth, folicitous to blefs,
In all the glaring impotence of drefs.
Thus fares the land, by luxury betray'd,
In nature's fimpleft charms at first array'd;
But, verging to decline, its fplendours rife,
Its vitas ftrike, its palaces furprise.
While land,
The mournful peafant leads his humble band;
The country blooms-a garden and a grave!
And while he finks, without one arm to fave,
To age the preffure of contiguous pride?
Where then, ah where, thall poverty refide,
to feme common's fencelefs limits ftray'd,
He drives his flock to pick the feanty blade,
And evin the bare-worn common is denied.

To e profufion that he muft not fhare; To fee tea thoufand baneful arts combin'd To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; To ke each joy the fons of pleafure know Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe. , while the courtier glitters in brocade, re the pale artift plies the fickly trade; re, while the proud their long-drawn pomp


ere the black gibbet glooms befide the way.

With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And blefs'd the cot where every pleasure rofe;
And kifs'd herthoughtlefsbabeswithmany a tear,
And clafp'd them clofe, in forrow doubly dear;
Whilft her fond husband ftrove to lend relief
In all the filent manlinefs of grief.

O, luxury! thou curft by Heaven's decree,
How ill exchang'd are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with infidious joy,
Diffufe their pleasures only to destroy!
Kingdoms, by thee to fickly greatnefs grown,
Boalt of a florid vigour not their own.
Atev'ry draught more large and large they grow,
A bloated mafs of rank unwieldly woe;
Till fapp'd their strength,and ev'ry partunfound,
Down, down they fink, and spread a ruin round.
Even now the devaflation is begun,

And half the bus'nefs of deftruction done;
Ev'n now, methinks, as pond'ring here I ftand,
I fee the rural virtues leave the land.
Down where yon anch'ring veffel spreads the fail,
That idly waiting flaps with every gale,
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pafs from the thore, and darken all the ftrand.
Contented toil, and hofpitable care,
And kind connubial tenderness, are there;
And piety with wishes plac'd above,
And steady loyalty, and faithful love.
And thou, fweet poetry, thou loveliest maid,
Still first to fly where fenfual joys invade;
Unfit in thefe degen'rate times of thame
To catch the heart, or ftrike for honeft fame;
Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried,
My fhame in crowds, my folitary pride!
Thou fource of all my blifs and all my woe,
That found ft me poor at firft, and keep'ft me fo;
Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excél,
Thou fource of ev'ry virtue, fare thee well!
Farewell! and, oh! where'er thy voice be tried,
On Torrio's cliffs, or Pambamarca's fide,
Whether where equinoctial fervours glow,
Or winter
wraps the polar world in fnow,
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redrefs the rigours of th' inclement clime;
Aid flighted truth with thy perfuative strain,
Teach erring man to fpurn the rage of gain;
Teach him that itates, of native strength poffeft,
Though very poor, may ftill be very bleft;
That trade's proud empire haftes to fwift decay,
As ocean fweeps the labour'd mole away;
While felf dependant pow'r can time defy,
As rocks relift the billows and the sky.

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Forbear, my fon,' the Hermit cries,
To tempt the dang`rous gloom;
For yonder phantom only flies
To lure thee to thy doom.
Here to the houseless child of want
'My door is open ftill;

And, tho' my portion is but fcant,
I give it with good-will.
Then turn to-night, and freely share
My rufhy couch and frugal fare,
"Whate'er my cell beftows;
No flocks that range the valley free
My blefling and repofe.
To flaughter I condemn;
Taught by that power that pities me,
I learn to pity them:

But from the mountain's graffy fide
A guiltless feaft I bring;

A fcrip with herbs and fruit fupplied,
And water from the spring.

Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego;
All earth-born cares are wrong:
Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.'
Soft as the dew from heaven defcends,
His gentle accents fell:
The modeft ftranger lowly bends,
And follows to the cell.
Far in a wilderness obfcure

The lonely manfion lay;
A refuge to the neighb'ring poor,
And ftrangers led aftray.

No ftores beneath its humble thatch
Requir'd a master's care;

The wicket, op'ning with a latch,
And now, when bufy crowds retire
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

To take their ev'ning rest,
The Hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheer'd his penfive gueft;
And fpread his vegetable store,

And gaily prefs'd and smil'd;
And, fkill'd in legendary lore,
The ling ring hours beguil'd.
Around in fympathetic mirth

Its tricks the kitten tries,
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,
The crackling faggot flies.
But nothing could a charm impart
To footh the ftranger's woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.

His rifing cares the Hermit fpied,
With anfw'ring care opprefs'd:

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And whence, unhappy youth,' he cried,
The forrows of thy breast?

From better habitations spurn'd,

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Reluctant doft thou rove?

Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,
• Or unregarded love?



Why fit we fad when Phofphor fhines fo clear,
And lavish Nature paints the purple year?


Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, While yon flow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow; Here western winds on breathing rofes blow. I'll ftake yon lamb that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing fhade furveys.


And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines,
And fwelling clusters bend the curling vines:
Four figures rifing from the work appear,
The various featons of the rolling year;
And what is that, which binds the radiant fky,
Where twelve fair figns in beauteous order lie?


Then fing by turns, by turns the Mufes fing, Now hawthorns bloffom, now the daifies fpring: Now leavesthe trees,and flow'rs adorntheground; Begin, the vales fhall ev'ry note rebound.


Infpire me, Phoebus, in my Delia's praise, With Waller'sftrains,orGranville's moving lays! A milk-white Bull hall at your altars ftand, That threats a fight, and spurns the rifing fand.


O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize,
And make my tongue victorious as her eyes:
No lambs or theep for victims I'll impart;
Thy victim, Love, fhall be the shepherd's heart.


Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain; Then hid in fhades, eludes her eager fwain; But feigns a laugh, to fee me fearch around, And by that laugh the willing fair is found.


The fprightly Sylvia trips along the green; She runs, but hopes the does not run unfeen; While a kind glance at her purfuer flies-How much at variance are her feet aud eyes!


O'er golden fands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; Bleft Thames's thorest he brighteft beauties yield: Feed here, my lambs, I'll feek no distant field.

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All nature mourus, the fkies relent in fhow'rs. Huth'd are the birds, and clos'd the drooping


If Delia mile, the flow'rs begin to fpring,
The fkics to brighten, and the birds to ing.

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Say, Daphnis, fay, in what glad foil appe Tell me but this, and I'll difclaim the pri A wond'rous Tree that facred Monarchs be And give the conqueft to thy Sylvia's eye


The Thistle fprings, to which the Lily yie
Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fit
And then a nobler prize I will refign;
For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine

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A foft retreat from fudden vernal show'rs;
Now rife, and hafte to yonder woodbine boy
The turf with rural dainties thall be crown
While op'ning bloomsdiffufe theirfweetsarot
For, fee! the gath'ring flocks to fhelter te
And from the Pleiads fruitful show`rs desc


Addreffed to Dr. Garth.


n's tu

A SHEPHERD'S boy (he feeks no better na
Led forth his flocks along the filver Tham
Where dancing funbeams on the waters play
And verdant alders form'd a quiv'ring that
Soft as he mourn'd, the ftreams forgot to f
The flocks around a dumb compaflion fhov
The Naiads wept, in ev'ry wat`ry bow'r,
And Jove contented in a filent fhow'r.

Accept, O Garth, the Mufe's early lays,
That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays;
Hear what from Love unpractis'd hearts endu
From Love, the fole difeafe thou can't not ci
Defence from Phoebus, not from Cupid's bea
Ye fhady beeches, and ye cooling streams
To you I mourn, nor to the deaf I fingi
The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay-
The woods fhall anfwer, and their echo ring
Why art thou prouder and more hard than the
The bleating theep with my complaints agre
They parch'd with heat, and I inflam'd by th
The fultry Sirius burns the thirfty plains,
While in thy heart eternal winter reigns.

While your Alexis pines in hopele fs love?
Where tray, ye Mufes, in what lawn or grow
Or elfe where Cam his winding vales divides
In thofe fair fields where facred His glides,

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