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Reproach their owner with that love of rest, That palls and satiates, and makes languid life, To which he forfeits ev'n the rest he loves.
A pedlar's pack, that bows the bearer down. Not such the alert and active. Measure life Health suffers, and the spirits ebb, the heart By its true worth, the comforts it affords,
Recoils from its own choice-at the full feast And theirs alone seems worthy of the name. Is famish'd - finds no music in the song, Good health, and, its associate in the most,
No smartness in the jest; and wonders why. Good temper; spirits prompt to undertake,
Yet thousands still desire to journey on, And not soon spent, though in an arduous task; Though halt, and weary of the path they tread The pow'rs of fancy and strong thought are theirs; The paralytic, who can hold her cards, Ev'n age itself seems privileg'd in them
But cannot play them, borrows a friend's hand, With clear exemption from its own defects.
To deal and shuffle, to divide and sort
Her mingled suits and sequences; and sits,
Others are dragg'd into the crowded room
Through downright inability to rise, Who oft'nest sacrifice are favor'd least.
Till the stout bearers lift the corpse again. The love of Nature, and the scentes she draws, These speak a loud memento. Yet ev'n these Is Nature's dictate. Strange! there should be found, Themselves love life, and cling to it, as he, Who, self-imprison'd in their proud saloons,
That overhangs a torrent, to a iwig. Renounce the odors of the open field
They love it, and yet lothe it; fear to die, For the unscented fictions of the loom;
Yet scorn the purposes for which they live. Who, satisfied with only pencil'd scenes,
Then wherefore not renounce them? No, the dread Prefer to the performance of a God
The slavish dread of solitude, that breeds Th' inferior wonders of an artist's hand!
Reflection and remorse, the fear of shame, Lovely indeed the mimic works of Art;
And their invet'rate habits, all forbid. But Nature's works far lovelier. I admire,
Whom call we gay? That honor has been long None more admires, the painter's magic skill, The boast of mere pretenders to the name. Who shows me that which I shall never see,
The innocent are gay--the lark is gay, Conveys a distant country into mine,
That dries his feathers, saturate with dew, And throws Italian light on English walls :
Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams But imitative strokes can do no more
of day-spring over-shoot his humble nest. Than please the eye-sweet Nature's, ev'ry sense. The peasant too, a witness of his song, The air salubrious of her lofty hills,
Himself a songster, is as gay as he. The cheering fragrance of her dewy vales, But save me from the gaiety of those, And music of her woods—no works of man Whose head-aches nail them to a nuon-day bed ; May rival these ; these all bespeak a pow'r
And save me too from theirs, whose haggard eyes Peculiar, and exclusively her own.
Flash desperation, and betray their pangs Beneath the open sky she spreads the feast; For properly stripp'd off by cruel chance; "Tis free to all-'tis ev'ry day renew'd;
From gaiety, that fills the bones with pain, Who scorns it starves deservedly at home.
The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with woe. He does not scorn it, who, imprison'd long
The Earth was made so various, that the mind In some unwholesome dungeon, and a prey
Of desultory man, studious of change, To sallow sickness, which the vapors, dank
And pleas'd with novelty, might be indulg'd. And clamry, of his dark abode have bred,
Prospects, however lovely, may be seen Escapes at last to liberty and light:
Till half their beauties fade; the weary sight, His cheek recovers soon its healthful hue;
Too well acquainted with their smile, slides off His eye relumines its extinguish'd fires ;
Fastidious, seeking less familiar scenes. He walks, he leaps, he runs is wing'd with joy, Then snug inclosures in the shelter'd vale, And riots in the sweets of ev'ry breeze.
Where frequent hedges intercept the eye, He does not scorn it, who has long endur'd
Delight us; happy to renounce awhile, A fever's agonies, and fed on drugs.
Not senseless of its charms, what still we love, Nor yet the mariner, his blood inflam'd
That such short absence may endear it more. With acrid salts; his very heart athirst,
Then forests, or the savage rock may please, To gaze at Nature in her green array,
That hides the seamew in his hollow clefts Upon the ship's tall side he stands, possess'd Above the reach of man. His hoary head, With visions prompted by intense desire :
Conspicuous many a league, the mariner, Fair fields appear below, such as he left
Bound homeward, and in hope already there, Far distant, such as he would die to find
Greets with three cheers exulting. At his waist He seeks them headlong, and is seen no more. A girdle of half-wither'd shrubs he shows,
The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns; And at his feet the based billows die. The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, The common, overgrown with fern, and rough And sullen sadness, that o'ershade, distort,
With prickly gorse, that, shapeless and deform'd, And mar, the face of Beauty, when no cause | And dang'rous to the touch, has yet its bloom, For such immeasurable woe appears,
And decks itself with ornaments of gold, These Flora banishes, and gives the fair
Yields no unpleasing ramble; there the turf Sweet smiles, and bloom less transient than her own. Smells fresh, and, rich in odorif'rous herbs It is the constant revolution, stale
And fungous fruits of earth, regales the sense And tasteless, of the same repeated joys,
With luxury of unexpected sweets.
There often wanders one, whom better days And terrible to sight, as when she springs Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimm'd
(If e'er she springs spontaneous) in remote With lace, and hat with splendid riband bound. And barb'rous climes, where violence preva, A serving.maid was she, and fell in love
And strength is lord of all; but, gentle, kuid, With one who left her, went to sea, and died. By culture tam'd, by liberty refreshid, Her fancy follow'd him through foaming waves And all her fruits by radiant truth maturd. To distant shores; and she would sit and weep War and the chase engross the savage whole; At what a sailor suffers; fancy too,
War follow'd for revenge, or to supplant Delusive most where warmest wishes are,
The envied tenants of some happier spot: Would oft anticipate his glad return,
The chase for sustenance, precarious trust! And dream of transports she was not to know. His hard condition with severe constraint She heard the doleful tidings of his death
Binds all his faculties, forbids all growth And never smild again! and now she roams Of wisdom, proves a school, in which be letree The dreary waste ; there spends the livelong day, Sly circumvention, unrelenting bate, And there, unless when charity forbids,
Mean self-attachment, and scarce aught beside The livelong night. A tatter'd apron hides,
Thus fare the shiv'ring natives of the north Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown
And thus the rangers of the western world, More tatter'd still; and both but ill conceal Where it advances far into the deep, A bosom heav'd with never-ceasing sighs.
Tow'rds the antarctic. Even the favor'd isles She begs an idle pin of all she meets,
So lately found, although the constant Sun And hoards them in her sleeve ; but needful food, Cheer all their seasons with a grateful smile. Though press'd with hunger oft, or comelier clothes, Can boast but liule virtue ; and, inert Though pinch'd with cold, asks never.-Kate is Through plenty, lose in morals what they gas craz'd.
In manners--victims of luxurious ease. I see a column of slow-rising smoke
These therefore I can pity, plac'd remote O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild. From all that science traces, art inventa, A vagabond and useless tribe there eat
Or inspiration teaches ; and inclos'd Their miserable meal. A kettle, slung
In boundless oceans never to be passid Between two poles upon a stick transverse,
By navigators uninform'd as they, Receives the morsel-Aesh obscene of dog, Or plow'd perhaps by British bark again : Or vermin, or at best of cock purloin'd
But far beyond the rest, and with most case, From his accustom'd perch. Hard-faring race! Thee, gentle savage!* whom no lore of thee They pick their fuel out of ev'ry hedge,
Or thine, but curiosity perhaps, Which, kindled with dry leaves, just saves un. Or else vain-glory, prompted us to draw quench'd
Forth from thy native bow'rs, to show thee bere The spark of life. The sportive wind blows wide With what superior skill we can abuse Their flutt'ring rags, and shows a tawny skin, The gifis of Providence, and squander Ite. The vellum of the pedigree they claim.
The dream is past; and thou hast found agun Great skill have they in palmistry, and more
Thy cocoas and bananas, palms and yarns, To conjure clean a way the gold they touch, And homestall thatch'd with leaves. Ber has to Conveying worthless dross into its place;
found Loud when they beg, dumb only when they steal. Their former charms ? And, having seen our start, Strange! that a creature rauonal, and cast
Our palaces, our ladies, and our pomp In human mould, should brutalize by choice Of equipage, our gardens, and our sports, His nature ; apd, though capable of arts,
And heard our music; are tby simple friends, By which the world might profit, and himself, Thy simple fare, and all thy plain delights, Self-banish'd from society, prefer
As dear to thee as once? And have thy jors Such squalid sloth to honorable toil!
Lost nothing by comparison with ours ! Yet even these, though feigning sickness oft Rude as thou art, (for we return'd thee rude They swathe the forehead, drag the limping limb, And ignorant, except of outward show.) And vex their flesh with artificial sores,
I cannot think thee yet so dull of heart Can change their whine into a mirthful pole, And spiritless, as never to regret When safe occasion offers; and with dance, Sweets tasted here, and left as soon as know And music of the bladder and the bag,
Methinks I see thee straying on the beach. Beguile their woes, and make the woods resound. And asking of the surge, that bathes thy fot. Such health and gaiety of heart enjoy
If ever it has wash'd our distant shore. The houseless rovers of the sylvan world ;
I see thee weep, and thine are honest tears, And, breathing wholesome air, and wand'ring much, A patriot's for his country : thou art sad Need other physic none to heal th' effects
At thought of her forlorn and abject state, Of lothesome diet, penury, and cold.
From which no pow'r of bine can raise her up Blest he, though indistinguish'd from the crowd Thus Fancy paints thee, and, though api lo ert By wealth or dignity, who dwells secure,
Perhaps errs liule, when she paints thee thos. Where man, by nature fierce, has laid aside She tells me too, that duly ev'ry morti His fierceness, having learnt, though slow to learn, Thou climb'st the mountain-top, with eager eye The manners and the arts of civil lise.
Exploring far and wide the wat'ry waste His wants indeed are many; but supply
For sight of ship from England. Ev'ry speck Is obvious, plac'd within the easy reach
Seen in the dim horizon turns thee pole of temp'rate wishes and industrious hands.
With conflict of contending hopes and fears Here virtue thrives as in her proper soil ; Not rude and surly, and beset with thorns,
But comes at last the dull and dusky eve,
Nor is it well, nor can it come to good, And sends thee to thy cabin, well-prepar'd
That, through profane and infidel contempt To dream all night of what the day denied. Of Holy Writ, she has presum'd t'annul Alas! expect it not. We found no bait
And abrogate, as roundly as she may, To tempt us in thy country. Doing good,
The total ordinance and will of God; Disinterested good, is not our trade.
Advancing Fashion to the post of Truth, We travel far. 'tis true, but not for nought;
And cent'ring all authority in modes And must be brib'd to compass Earth again
And customs of her own, till sabbath-rites By oiher hopes and richer fruits than yours. Have dwindled into unrespected forms,
But though true worth and virtue in the mild | And knees and hassocks are well-nigh divorc'd. kap And genial soil of cultivated life
God made the country, and man made the town. with Thrive most, and may perhaps thrive only there, What wonder then that health and virtue, gifts yra Yet not in cities oft; in proud, and gay,
That can alone make sweet the bitter draught And gain-devoted cities. Thither flow,
That life holds out to all, should most abound As to a common and most noisome sewer,
And least be threaten'd in the fields and groves? The dregs and feculence of ev'ry land.
Possess ye therefore, ye who, borne about In cities foul example on most minds
In chariots and sedans, know no fatigue 9931 Begets its likeness. Rank abundance breeds, But that of idleness, and taste no scenes
a In gross and pamper'd cities, sloth, and lust, But such as art contrives, possess ye still JCH And wantonness, and gluttonous excess.
Your element; there only can ye shine ; 10. In cities, vice is hidden with most ease,
There only minds like yours can do no harm. Or seen with least reproach; and virtue, taught Our groves were planted to console at noon hem By frequent lapse, can hope no triumph there The pensive wand'rer in their shades. At eve, pia Beyond th' achievement of successful flight. The moonbeam, sliding softly in between 1 I do confess them nurs'ries of the arts,
The sleeping leaves, is all the light they wish, ? In which they flourish most; where, in the beams Birds warbling all the music. We can spare er Of warm encouragement, and in the eye
The splendor of your lamps; they but eclipse of public note, they reach their perfect size. Our softer satellite. Your songs confound mit Such London is, by taste and wealth proclaim'd Our more harmonious notes; the thrush departs The fairest capital of all the world,
Scar'd, and th' offended nightingale is mute. By riot and incontinence the worst.
There is a public mischief in your mirth;
Grac'd with a sword, and worthier of a fan,
Has made what enemies could ne'er have done, Gives more than female beauty to a stone,
Our arch of empire, stedfast but for you,
A mutilated structure, soon to fall.
Reflections suggested by the conclusion of the for.
mer book. Peace among the nations recommended With which she calculares, computes, and scans,
on the ground of their common fellowship in sorAll distance, motion, magnitude, and now
row. Prodigies enumerated. Sicilian earthquakes. Measures an atom, and now girds a world?
Man rendered obnoxious to these calamities by In London. Where has commerce such a mart,
sin. God the agent in them. The philosophy " So rich, so throng'd, so drain'd, and so supplied,
that stops at secondary causes reproved. Our own Signs As London--opulent, enlarg'd, and still
late miscarriages accounted for. Satirical notice Increasing, London ? Babylon of old
taken of our trips to Fontaine-Bleau. But the Not more the glory of the Earth than she,
pulpit, noi satire, the proper engine of reformaA more accomplish'd world's chief glory now.
tion. The reverend advertiser of engraved ser. She has her praise. Now mark a spot or two,
mons. Petit-maître parson. The good preacher. That so much beauty would do well to purge:
Picture of a theatrical clerical coxcomb. Story. And show this queen of cities, that so fair
tellers and jesters in the pulpit reproved. AposMay yet be foul; so witty, yet not wise.
trophe to popular applause. Retailers of ancient It is not seemly, nor of good report,
philosophy expostulated with. Sum of the whole
matter. Effects of sacerdotal mismanagement on That she is slack in discipline; more prompt Tavenge than to prevent the breach of law;
the laity. Their folly and extravagance. The That she is rigid in denouncing death
mischiets of profusion. Profusion itself, with all On petty robbers, and indulges life
its consequent evils, ascribed, as to its principal And liberty, and oft-times honor too,
cause, to the want of discipline in the universities.
Sorne boundless contiguity of shade,
Where runior of oppression and deceit,
Of unsuccessful or successful war,
Still they are frowning signals, and bespeak Might never reach me more. My ear is pain'd, Displeasure in His breast, who smites the Earth My soul is sick, with ev'ry day's report
Or heals it, makes it languish or rejoice.
And stand expos'd by common peccancy
To what no few have felt, there should be peace, or brotherhood is sever'd, as the flax
And brethren in calamity should love. That falls aaunder at the touch of fire.
Alas for Sicily! rude fragments now He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
Lie scatter'd, where the shapely column stood. Not color'd like his own; and, having pow'r Her palaces are dust. In all her streets T' enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause The voice of singing and the sprightly chord Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
Are silent. Revelry, and dance, and show Lands intersected by a narrow frith
Suffer a syncope and solemn pause; Abhor each other. Mountains interpos'd
While God performs upon the trembling stage Make enemies of nations, who had else
of his own works his dreadful part alone. Like kindred drops been mingled into one. How does the Earth receive him !-- with what signs Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys; Of gratulation and delight her king? And, worse than all, and most to be deplor'd
Pours she not all her choicest fruits abroad, As human nature's broadest, foulest blot,
Her sweetest flowers, her aromatic gums, Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat | Disclosing Paradise where'er he treads? With stripes, that Mercy with a bleeding heart She quakes at his approach. Her hollow womb, Weeps, when she sees inflicted on a beast.
Conceiving thunders through a thousand deers Then what is man? And what man, seeing this, And fiery caverns, roars beneath his foot. And having human feelings, does not blush, The hills move lightly, and the mountains smoke, And hang his head, to think himself a man? For he has touch'd them. From th' extremest point I would not have a slave to till my ground, Of elevation down into the abyss, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
His wrath is busy, and his frown is felt. And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth The rocks fall headlong, and the valleys rise, That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. The rivers die into offensive pools, No: dear as freedom is, and in my heart's
And, charg'd with putrid verdure, breathe a gross Just estimation priz'd above all price,
| And mortal nuisance into all the air. I had much rather be myself the slave,
What solid was, by transformation strange,
Sucks down its prey insatiable. Immense
And fugitive in vain. The sylvan scene
Alighting in far-distant fields, finds out
Ocean has caught the frenzy, and, upwrought Sure there is need of social intercourse,
| To an enormous and o'erbearing height. Benevolence, and peace, and mutual aid,
Not by a mighty wind, but by that voice Between the nations, in a world that seems Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore To toll the death-bell of its own decease,
Resistless. Never such a sudden flood, And by the voice of all its elements
Upridg'd so high, and sent on such a charge, To preach the gen'ral doom.* When were the winds | Possess'd an inland scene. Where now the throng Let slip with such a warrant to destroy ?
That press'd the beach, and, hasty to depart, When did the waves so haughtily o'erleap
Look'd to the sea for safely? They are gone, Their ancient barriers, deluging the dry ?
Gone with the refluent wave into the deep, Fires from beneath, and meteors † from above, A prince with half his people! Ancient tow'rs, Portentous, unexampled, unexplain'd,
And roofs embattled high, the gloomy scenes, Have kindled beacons in the skies; and th' old Where beauty oft and letter'd worth consume And crazy Earth has had her shaking fits
Life in the unproductive shades of death, More frequent, and foregone her usual rest. Fall prone : the pale inhabitants come forth, Is it a time to wrangle, when the props
And, happy in their unforeseen release And pillars of our planet seem to fail,
From all the rigors of restraint, enjoy * And Nature ( with a dim and sickly eye
The terrors of the day, that sets them free. To wait the close of all ? But grant her end Who then, that has thee, would not hold thee, More distant, and that prophecy demands
Freedom! whom they that lose thee so regret, A longer respite, unaccomplish'd yet;
That ev'n a judgment, making way for thee,
Seems in their eyes a mercy for thy sake? * Alluding to the calamities in Jamaira.
Such evil Sin hath wrought; and such a flame August 18, 1783.
Kindled in Heav'n, that it burns down to Earth, 1 Alluding to the fog, that covered both Europe and And in the furious inquest, that it makes Asia during the whole summer of 1783.
On God's behalf, lays waste his fairest works.
The very elements, though each be meant
England, with all thy faults, I love thee still The minister of man, to serve his wants.
My country! and, while yet a nook is left, Conspire against him. With his breath he draws Where English minds and manners may be found, A plague into his blood ; and cannot use
Shall be constrain'd to love thee. Though thy clime Life's necessary means, but he must die.
Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd
Of patriot eloquence to Nash down fire
Should England prosper, when such things, as smooth
With odors, and as profligate as sweet; Far guiltier England, lest he spare not thee! Who sell their laurel for a myrıle wreath,
Happy the man, who sees a God employ'd And love when they should fight; when such as these In all the good and ill, that chequer life!
Presume to lay their hand upon the ark Resolving all events, with their effects
Of her magnificent and awful cause? And manifold results, into the will
Time was when it was praise and boast enough And arbitration wise of the Supreme.
In ev'ry clime, and travel where we might, Did not his eye rule all things, and intend
That we were born her children. Praise enough The least of our concerns (since from the least To fill th' ambition of a private man, The greatest oft originate); could chance
That Chatham's language was his mother's tongue Find place in his dominion, or dispose
And Wolfe's great name compatriot with his own. One lawless particle to thwart his plan;
Farewell those honors, and farewell with them Then God might be surpris'd, and unforeseen The hope of such hereafter; they have fallin, Contingence might alarm him, and disturb
Each in his field of glory; one in arms, The smooth and equal course of his affairs. And one in council-Wolfe upon the lap This truth Philosophy, though eagle-ey'd
Or smiling Victory that moment won, In nature's tendencies, oft overlooks;
And Chatham heart-sick of his country's shame! And, having found his instrument, forgets,
They made us many soldiers. Chatham, still
Consulting England's happiness at home,
If any wrong'd her. Wolfe, where'er he fought,
Those suns are set. O rise some other such!
Of old achievements, and despair of new.
With lavender, and sprinkle liquid sweets,
The nose of nice nobility! Breathe soft,
Ye clarionets; and sofier still, ye Rules; By necessary laws their sure effects;
That winds and waters, lull'd by magic sounds, of action and reaction: he has found
May bear us smoothly to the Gallic shore ! The source of the disease that nature feels.
True, we have lost an empire-let it pass. And bids the world take heart and banish fear. True ; we may thank the perfidy of France, Thou fool! will thy discov'ry of the cause
That pick'd the jewel out of England's crown, Suspend th' effect, or heal it? Has not God With all the cunning of an envious shrew. Still wrought by means since first he made the world?! And let that pass-'twas but a trick of state ! And did he not of old employ his means,
A brave man knows no malice, but at once To drown it? What is his creation less
Forgets in peace the injuries of war, Than a capacious reservoir of means,
And gives his direst foe a friend's embrace. Form'd for his use, and ready at his will?
And, sham'd as we have been, to th' very beard Go, dress thine eyes with eye-salve; ask of him, i Brav'd and defied, and in our own sea prov'd Or ask of whomsoever he has taught;
Too weak for those decisive blows, that once And learn, though late, the genuine cause of all. Insur'd us mast'ry there, we yet retain