While fea-born gales their gelid wings expand, Yet ftill the lofs of wealth is here supply'd Here may be feen, in bloodlefs pomp array'd, My foul turn from them-turn we to furvey Yet ftill, c'en here Content can fpread a charm, Redrets the clime, and all its rage difarm. Tho' poor the peafant's hut, his feaft tho' small, He fees his little lot the lot of all; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, "To fname the meannefs of his humble thed; No coftly lord the fumptuous banquet deal, To make him loath his vegetable meal; But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil, Each with contracting, lits him to the foil. Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose, Thus ev'ry good his native wilds impart, Such are the charms to barren states affign'd: Their wants but few, their wifhes all confin'd. Yet let them only share the praises due ; If few their wants, their pleasures are but few: For ev'ry want that ftimulates the breaft, Becomes a fource of pleasure when redreft. When from fuch lands each pleafing fcience flies, That first excites defire, and then fupplies; Unknown to them, when fenfual pleatures cloy, To fill the languid paufe with finer joy; Unknown thofe pow'rs that raife the foul to flame, Catch ev'ry nerve, and vibrate thro' the frame. Their level life is but a mould'ring fire, Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong defire; Unfit for raptures; or, if raptures cheer On fome high feftival of once a year, In wild excefs the vulgar breaft takes fire, Till, bury'd in debauch, the blifs expire. But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow; Their morals, like their pleafures, are but low: For, as refinement ftops, from fire to fon, Unalter'd, unimprov'd, the manners run; And love's and friendship's finely-pointed dart Fall blunted from each indurated heart. Some fterner virtues o'er the mountain's breaft May fit, like falcons cowering on the neft; But all the gentler morals, fuch as play [way, Thro' life's more cultur'd walks, and charm the Thefe far difpers'd, on timorous pinions fly, To fport and flutter in a kinder sky. To kinder fkies, where gentler manners reign, I turn-and France difplays her bright domain. Gay fprightly land of mirth and focial ease, Pleas'd with thy felf, whom all theworld can pleafe, How often have I led thy fportive choir, With tunclefs pipe, beide the murm'ring Loire! Where fhading elms along the margin grew, And, frefhen'd from the wave, the zephyr flew; And haply, tho' my harth touch falt'ring ftill, But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's fkill, Yet would the villa e praise my wondrous pow'r, Heavens! how unlike their Belgic sires of old! War in each breast, and freedom on cach brow; So blett a life these thoughtless realıns display, | Wherc lawns extenu that fcorn Arcadian pride, Thus idly busy rolls thcir world away: And brighter streams than fam'd Hydaspis glide. Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear; There all around the gentlest breezes stray; For bonour forms the social temper here. There gentle music melts on ev'ry spray; Honour, that praisc which rcal merit gains, Creation's mildest charms are there combin'd; Or e'en inaginary worth obrains, Extremes are only in the master's inind! They please, are pleas'd, they give to get e teem, Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band, But while this fofter art their bliss supplies, Fierce in their native hardiness of foul, True to imagin'd right, above controul, For praisc too dearly lov’d, or warmly fought, Whilce'en the peasant boasts these rights to scan, Enfeebles all internal strength of thought ; And learns to venerate himself as man. And the weak foul, within itself vnbleft, Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictur'd Leans for all pleasure on another's breaft. here ; Hence oftenation here, with tawdry art, Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear; Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart : Too bless'd indeed were fuch without alloy, Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, But fofter'd e'un by Freedom ills annoy; And trims her robes of frize with copper lace; That independance Britons prize too high, Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer, Kecps man from man, and breaks the social tie; To boati one fplendid banquet once a year; The felf-dependant lordlings stand alone; The mind fill turns where thifting fashion draws, All claims that bind and fiveeten life unknown; Nor weighs the folid worth of felf-applaute. Here, by the bonds of Nature feebly held, To men of other minds my fancy fies, Minds combat minds, repelling and repell’d. Einbofom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Ferments arife, imprison'd factions roar, Mcthinks her piztient fons before me stand, Repress’d ambition struggles round her shore, Where the broad ocean leans againtt the land; Till, over-wrought, the general system feels And, fedulous to stop the coming tide, Its motions stop, or phirnzy fire the wheels. Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. Nor this the worst. As Nature's ties decay, Onward mcthinks, and diligently flow, As duty, love, and honour fail to fway, The firm connected bulwark seems to grow; Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Spreads its long arms amidst the wat’ry roar, Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. Scoops out an cinpiic, and usurps the shore, Henco all obedience bowys to those alone, While thic pent occan, rising o'er the pile, And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown; Secs an amphibious world bencati him fimile; Till time may come, when, stripp'd of all her The flow canal, the yellow-blossom'd vale, charms, The willow-tufted bank, the gliding fail, The land of scholars and the nurse of arms, The crowded inart, the cultivated plain, Where noble stems transinit the patriot fame, A new creation, rescu'd from his reign. Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for fame, Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil One link of level avarice Thall lie, Impels the native to repeated toil, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonour'd die. Industrious babits in cach bofom reign, Yet think not, thus when Freedom's ills I state, And industry begets a love of gain. I mean to flatter kings, or court the great : Hence all the good from opulence that springs, Ye pow'rs of truth, that bid my soul aspire, With all those ills superfluous treasure brings, Far from my bosom drive the low desire ! Are here dilplay’d. Thcir much-lov'd wealth im. And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts ; [parts The rabble's rage, and tyrant's angry ftcel; But view them clofer, craft and fraud appear; Thou transitory flower, alike undone E'en liberty itself is barter'd here! By proud Contempt, or Favour's foft'ring fun, At gold's fupcrior charms all freedom flics; Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endura, The needy fell it, and the rich man buys; I only would repress them to secure : A land of trrants, and a den of flaves! For just experience tells, in ev'ry foil, Here wretches seck dihonourable graves, That thosc who think mult govern those that toil; And calmly bent, in fervitude conform; And all that Freedom's highest aims can reach, Dull as their lakes that suinber in the storm. Is but to lay proportion'd loads on cach. Hence, Reart Hence, fhould one order difproportion'd grow, O, then, how blind to all that truth requires, To call it freedom when themfelves are free; Yes, brother, curfe me with that baleful hour, Vain, very vain, my weary fearch, to find annoy, § 21. The Deferted Village. GOLDSMITH. SWEET Auburn! lovelieft village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring fwain; Where finiling fpring its earliest visit paid, round. And still as cach repeated pleasure tir'd, prove, [thefe These were thy charms, fweet village! fports like With sweet fucceffion, taught c'en toil to pleafe; Thefe round thy bow'rs their cheerful influence thed, [are fled. Thefe were thy charms-But all these charms Sweet fmiling village, lovelieft of the lawn, Thy fports are fled, and all thy charms with drawn; Amidft thy bow'rs the Tyrant's hand is feen, The hollow founding bittern guards its neft; Far, far away thy children leave the land. Ill fares the land, to haft'ning ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay: Princes and Lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made: But a bold peafantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supply'd. A time there was, ere Engla!ld's griefs began, | The noisy gecse that gabhl'd o'er the pool, But times are alter'd: trade's unfccling train And Gill'd caclı pause the nightingale had made. Bui all the bloomy Aull of life is Acd ! And ev'ry pang that folly pays to pride. All but yon widow'd, tolitary thing, Thele gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom, That feebly bends belide the plathy Spring; Thosc calin defires that alk'd but little room, She, wretched matron, forc'd, in age, for bread, Tlicle healthful sports that grac'd the peaceful To strip the brook with mantling creffes spread, fccne, To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, Liv'd in cach look, and brighten'd all the green; To leck her nightly thed, and weep till morn; Thesc, far departing, teck a kinder Thore; She only left, of all the harmless train, And rural mirth and manners are no more. The fad historian of the pensive plain. Sweet Auburn! parent of the blissful hour, Near yonder cople, where once the garden Thy glades forlorn confefs the tyrant's pow'r. smil'd, Here, as I take my folitary rounds, And still where many a garden-Aower growswild, Amidst thy tangling walks and ruin'd grounds, There, where a few torn thrubs the place disclose, And many a year claps'd, return to view The village preacher's modeli mantion rote. Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew, A man he was to all the country dear, Remenbrance wakes with all her busy train, And passing rich, with forty pounds a year! Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. Remote from towns, he ran his godly race, In all my wand'rings, round this world of care, Nor ere had chang’d, nor willi'd to change his In all my griefs--and God has giv'n my share— Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for pow'r, [place; I ftill had hopes, my latett hours to crown, By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour; Amidst thefe humble bow'rs to lay inc down : Fár other aims his heart had learn'd to prize; To husband out life's taper ai the close, More bent to raise the wretched than to rife. And keep the flame from watting by repose : His house was known to all the vagrant train; 1 mil had hopes, for pride attends us ftill, He chid their wand'rings,but reliev'd their pain. Amidti the livains to thew my book-Icarn’d skill; The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, Around my fire an ev'niny group to draw, Whose beard, descending, livept his aged brcast; And tell of all I felt, and all I law; The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud, And, as an hare, whom hounds and hors pursuc, Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd; Pants to the place from whence at firtt he few, The broken foldier, kindly bade to stay, I still had hopes, my long vexations past, Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away ; Here to return —and die at home at laft. W'epi o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, O bleti retirement, friend to life's decline, Shoulder'd his crutch, and thew'd how fields Retrcats from care, that never must be mine, [glow, How blett is he who crowns, in shades like these, Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn’d to A youth of labour with an age of eafc! And quite forget their vices in their woe; Who quits a world where firong temptationstry, Careless their merits or their faults to scan, And, fince 'is hard to coinbat, learns to fly! His pity gave cre charity began. For him no wretches, born to work and weer, Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, Explore the mine, or tempt the dang’rous deup; And cr’n his failings lean’d to Virtue's líde; No surly porter fands in guilty ftatc, But in his duty prompt at ev'ry call, To ipurn imploring fainine from the gate ; He watch'd and wept, he pray'd, and felt for all. But on he moves to meet his latter end, And, as a bird each fond endcarment tries, Angels around befriendin, virtue's friend; To tcmpt her new-fledg’d offspring to the skics, Siaks to the grase with unperceiv'il decay, He try'd each art, reprov'd each dull delay, While rclignation gently slopes the way: Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way. And, all his proipeċts brighi'ning to thc last, Belide the bed, where parting iifc was laid, His heav'n commences crc the world be patt! And furrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dilinay'd, Sivce: was the found, when oft, at ev’ning's The rev'rend champion stood. At his controul close, Despair and anguith Had the itruggling soul; Up yonder hiil the village murmur rose; Comfort came down, the trenbling wretch to There, as I past, with carluis fteps and flow, raise, The mingling notes came foften'd from below; And his lait fault'ring accents whisper'd praise. The swain reiponlive as the nilk-maid fung, At church, with meek and unaffected grace, The fober herd that low'd to meet their young; His looks adoru'd the venerabic place; Truth Were won. Fruth from his lips prevail'd with double fway, | Obfcure it finks, nor fhall it more impart And fools who came to fcoff, remain'd to pray. His ready fimile a parent's warmth expreft; For ev'n tho' vanquish'd, he could argue ftill; Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around. Where grey-beard mirth and finiling toil retir'd; And news much older than their ale went round. Vain tranfitory fplendour! could not all An hour's importance to the poor man's heart; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain, Ye friends to truth, ye ftatefmen who furvey As fome fair female, unadorn'd and plain, Where |