And let them virtue with a look impart ;
But chief a while, O! lend us from the tomb,
Those long-lost friends for whom in love we fmart,
And fill with pious awe and joy-mixt woe the heart,
Or are you sportive ?-bid the morn of youth
Rife to new light, and beam afresh the days
Of innocence, fimplicity, and truth,
To cares eftrang'd, and manhood's thorny ways,
What tranfport, to retrace our boyish plays,
Our eafy blifs, when each thing joy supply'd,.
The woods, the mountains, and the warbling maze-
Of the wild brooks!-But, fondly wandering wide,.
My Mufe! refume the task, that yet doth thee abide..
One great amusement of our household was,.
In a huge crystal magic globe to spy,
Still as you turn'd it, all things that do pafs.
Upon this ant-hill earth; 'where conflantly
Of idly-bufy men the reflefs fry
Run buffling to and fro with foolish hafte,
In fearch of pleasures vain that from them fly,.
Or which obtain'd the caitiffs dare not taste :
When nothing is enjoy'd, can there be greater waflè ::
Of Vanity the Mirvour this was call'd,
Here you a muckworm of the town might fee,
At his dull defk, amid his legers flall'd,
Ate up with carking care and penurie.
Moft like to carcafe parch'd on gallow-tree.
"A penny faved is a penny got ;"
Firm to this fcoundrel maxim keepeth he,
Ne of its rigour will he bate a jot,
Till it has quench'd his fire and banifhed his pot.
Strait from the filth of this low grub, behold!
Comes fluttering forth a gaudy fpendthrift heir,
All gloffy gay, enamell'd all with gold,
The filly tenant of the fummer-air,
In folly loft, of nothing takes he care;
Pimps, lawyers, flewards, harlots, flatterers vile,
And thieving trade finen, him among them fhare:
His father's ghoft from Limbo-lake, the while,
Sees this, which more damnation doth upon
This globe pourtray'd the race of learned men
Still at their books, and turning o'er the page
Backwards and forwards: oft they fnatch'd the pen,
As if inspir'd, and in a Thespian rage,
Then write, and blot, as would your ruth engage,
Why, Authors! all this fcrawl and fcribbling lore?
To lofe the prefent, gain the future age,'
Praised to be when you can hear no more.
And much enrich'd'with fame when ufelefs worldly flore?
Then would a fplendid city rife to view.
With carts, and cars, and coaches, roaring all':
Wide pour'd abroad behold the giddy crew,'
See how they dafh along from wall to wall!
At every door, hark how they thundering call!
Good Lord! what can this giddy rout excite?
Why, on each other with fell tooth to fall,
A neighbour's fortune, fame, or peace, to blight, And make new tire fome parties for the coming night.
The puzzling fons of Party next appear'd.
In dark cabals and nightly juntos met,
And now they whifper'd clofe, now fhrugging rear'd
Th' important fhoulder: then, as if to get
New light, their twinkling eyes were inward set.
No fooner Lucifer recalls affairs,
Than forth they various rush in mighty fret ;
When, la! pufh'd up to power, and crown'd their cares,
In comes another fett, and kicketh them down ftairs.
But what most fhew'd the vanity of life,
Was to behold the nations all on fire,
In cruel broils engag'd, and deadly ftrife,
Moft Chriftian kings, inflam'd by black defire,
With honourable ruffians in their hire,
Caufe war to rage, and blood around to pour :
Of this fad work when each begins to, tire,
They fit them down juft where they were before.
Till for new scenes of woe peace fhall their force restore.
To number up the thoufands dwelling here,
An ufelefs were, and eke an endless task ;
From kings, and those who at the helm appear,
To gipfies brown in fummer-glades who bask.
Yea many a man, perdie, I could unmask,
Whose desk and table make a folemn fhow,
With tape-ty'd trafh, and fuits of fools that afk
For place or penfion laid in decent row;
But thefe I paffen by, with nameless numbers moe.
Of all the gentle tenants of the place,
There was a man of fpecial grave remark :
A certain tender gloom o'erfpread his face, to
Penfive, not fad, in thought involv'd, not dark;
As foot this man could fing as morning lark,
And teach the nobleft morals of the heart;
But these his talents were yburied stark;
Of the fine flores he nothing would impart,
Which or boon Nature gave, or nature-painted Art.
To noontide fhades incontinent he ran,
Where purls the brook with sleep-inviting found,
Or when Dan Sol to flope his wheels began,
Amid the broom he bask'd him on the ground,
Where the wild thyme and camomoil are found;
There would he linger, till the latest ray
Of light fate trembling on the welkin's bound,
Then homeward thro' the twilight fhadows ftray.
Sauntering and flow fo had he paffed many a day.
LIX.
Yet not in thoughtlefs flumber were they paft';
For oft' the heavenly fire, that lay conceal'd
Beneath the fleeping embers, mounted fast,
And all its native light anew reveal'd:
Oft' as he travers'd the cerulean field,
And markt the clouds that drove before the wind,
Ten thousand glorious fyftems would he build,
Ten thousand great ideas fill'd his mind;
But with the clouds they fled, and left no trace behind,
With him was fometimes join'd, in filent walk,
(Profoundly filent, for they never spoke)
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