Forgetful of their courfe. 'Tis filence all,
And pleafing expectation. Herds and flocks
Drop the dry fprig, and mute-imploring eye
The falling verdure. Hush'd in short suspense,
The plumy people streak their wings with oil,
To throw the lucid moisture trickling off;
And wait th' approaching fign to strike, at once,
Into the general choir. Ev'n mountains, vales,
And forests seem, impatient, to demand
The promis'd sweetness. Man fuperior walks
Amid the glad creation, musing praise,
And looking lively gratitude. At laft,
The clouds confign their treasures to the fields;
And, foftly fhaking on the dimpled pool
Prelufive drops, let all their moisture flow,
In large effufion, o'er the freshen'd world.
The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard,
By fuch as wander through the forest walks,
Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.
But who can hold the fhade, while Heaven defcends
In univerfal bounty, fhedding herbs,
And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap?
Swift fancy fir'd anticipates their growth;
And, while the milky nutriment distils,
Beholds the kindling country colour round.
Thus all day long the full-diftended clouds
Indulge their genial stores, and well-fhower'd earth
Is deep-enrich'd with vegetable life,
Till, in the western sky, the downward fun
Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flufh
kkádla, gy vášhkuta; and every sne micida,
Ik tam dixiutum rudawg from the red,
The Mark but fislet fades into the iky.
lark, entul Newton, the diffolving clouds
Butik, Timling on the lun, thy fhowery prifm;
And in de lage-instructed eye unfold
The ratious twine of light, by thee difclos'd
Bom the stille mingling maze. Not fo the boy;
He wondering views the bright enchantment bend,
belightful, o'er the radiant helds, and rung
To catch the falling glory; but amaz'd
Beholds the amulive arch before him fly,
ihen vanith quite away. Still night fucceeds,
A fotten'd fhade, and faturated earth
Cuts the morning-beam, to give to light,
I through ten thousand different plaftick tubes,
The balmy treasures of the former day.
Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild,
O'er all the deep-green earth, beyond the power
Of botanists to number up their tribes :
Whether he steals along the lonely dale,
In filent fearch; or through the forest, rank
With what the dull incurious weeds account,
Burfts his blind way; or climbs the mountain rock,
Fir'd by the nodding verdure of its brow.
With fuch a liberal hand has Nature flung
Their feeds abroad, blown them about in winds, 230
Innumerous mix'd them with the nurfing mold,
The moistening current, and prolific rain.
But who their virtues can declare? who pierce,
With vifion pure, into these secret stores,
Of health, and life, and joy? The food of man, 235
While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told
A length of golden years; unflesh'd in blood,
A stranger to the savage arts of life,
Death, rapine, carnage, surfeit, and disease;
The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world.
The first fresh dawn then wak'd the gladden'd race Of uncorrupted man, nor blush'd to fee
The fluggard fleep beneath its facred beam :
For their light flumbers gently fum'd away;
And up they rofe as vigorous as the fun,
Or to the culture of the willing glebe,
Or to the chearful tendance of the flock.
Meantime the fong went round; and dance and sport, Wisdom and friendly talk, fucceffive, stole
Their hours away; while in the rosy vale
Love breath'd his infant fighs, from anguish free,
And full replete with blifs; fave the sweet pain,
That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more.
Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed,
Was known among those happy fons of Heaven; 255
For reafon and benevolence were law.
Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on.
Clear fhone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales,
And balmy spirit all. The youthful fun
Shot his best rays, and still the gracious clouds
Drop'd fatnefs down; as o'er the swelling mead,
The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure.
This when, emergent from the gloomy wood,
The glaring lion faw, his horrid heart
Was meeken'd, and he join'd his fullen joy.
For mufic held the whole in perfect peace :
Soft figh'd the flute; the tender voice was heard,
Warbling the varied heart; the woodlands round
Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flow'd
In confonance. Such were those prime of days.
But now those white unblemish'd manners, whence
The fabling poets took their golden age,
Are found no more amid these iron times,
Thefe dregs of life! Now the diftemper'd mind
Has loft that concord of harmonious powers,
Which forms the foul of happiness; and all
Is off the poife within: the paffions all
Have burst their bounds; and reafon, half extinct,
Or impotent, or elfe approving, fees
The foul diforder. Senfelefs, and deform'd,
Convulfive anger ftorms at large; or pale,
And filent, fettles into fell revenge.
Bafe envy withers at another's joy,
And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
Defponding fear, of feeble fancies full,
Weak and unmanly, loofens every power.
Ev'n love itself is bitterness of foul,
A penfive anguifh pining at the heart;
Or, funk to fordid intereft, feels no more
That noble with, that never-cloy'd defire,
Which, felfish joy difdaining, feeks alone
To bless the dearer object of its flame.
Hope fickens with extravagance; and grief,
Of life impatient, into madnefs fwells;
Or in dead filence waftes the weeping hours.
Thefe, and a thoufand mixt emotions more,
From ever-changing views of good and ill,
Form'd infinitely various, vex the mind
With endless storm: whence, deeply rankling, grows The partial thought, a liftlefs unconcern,
Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good;
Then dark difguft, and hatred, winding wiles,
Coward deceit, and ruffian violence:
At laft, extinct each focial feeling, fell
And joyless inhumanity pervades
And petrifies the heart. Nature difturb'd
Is deem'd, vindictive, to have chang'd her course.
Hence, in old dufky time, a deluge came :
When the deep-cleft difparting orb, that arch'd
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