And woods impervious to the breeze,
Thick phalanx of embodied trees,
From hills thro' 'plains in dusk array
Extended far, repel the day.
Here ftillness, height, and folemn shade
Invite, and contemplation aid :
Here nymphs from hollow oaks relate
The dark decrees and will of fate,
And dreams beneath the fpreading beech
Infpire, and docile fancy teach,
While foft as breezy breath of wind,
Impulses ruftle thro' the mind:
Here Dryads, fcorning Phoebus' ray,
While Pan melodious pipes away,
In meafur'd motions frisk about,
"Till old Silenus puts them out.
There fee the clover, pea, and bean,
Vie in variety of green;
Fresh paftures fpeckled o'er with sheep,
Brown fields their fallow fabbaths keep,
Plump Ceres golden treffes wear,
And poppy-top-knots deck her hair,
And filver-ftreams through meadows ftray,
And Naiads on the margin play,
And leffer nymphs on fide of hills
From play-thing urns pour down the rills.
Thus fhelter'd, free from care and strife,
May I enjoy a calm thro' life;
See faction, fafe in low degree
As men at land fee forms at fea,
And laugh at miferable elves,
Not kind, fo much as to themselves,
Curs'd with fuch fouls of base alloy,
As can poffefs, but not enjoy ;
Debar'd the pleasure to impart
By av'rice, sphincter of the heart,
Who wealth, hard earn'd by guilty cares,
Bequeath untouch'd to thankless heirs.
May I, with look ungloom'd by guile,
And wearing Virtue's liv'ry-fmile,
Prone the diftreffed to relieve,
And little trefpaffes forgive,
With income not in Fortune's pow'r,
And skill to make a bufy hour,
With trips to town life to amuse,
To purchase books, and hear the news,
To fee old friends, brush off the clown,
And quicken tafte at coming down,
Unhurt by fickness' blasting rage,
And flowly mellowing in age,
When Fate extends its gathering gripe,
Fall off like fruit grown fully ripe,
Quit a worn being without pain,
Perhaps to bloffom foon again.
But now more serious see me grow,
And what I think, my Memmius, krow.
Th' enthulian's hopes, and raptures wild Have never yet my reason foil'd.
His fpringy foul dilates like air,
When free from weight of ambient care,
And, hush'd in meditation deep,
Slides into dreams, as when asleep;
Then, fond of new difcoveries grown;
Proves a Columbus of her own,
Difdains the narrow bounds of place,
And thro' the wilds of endless space,
Borne up on metaphyfick wings,
Chafes light forms, and fhadowy things;
And in the vague excurfion caught,
Brings home some rare exotick thought:
The melancholy man fuch dreams,
As brightest evidence, esteems;
Fain would he fee fome diftant scene
Suggested by his restless Spleen,
And Fancy's telescope applies
With tinctur'd glass to cheat his eyes.
Such thoughts, as love the gloom of night,
I close examine by the light;
For who, tho' brib'd by gain to lie,
Dare fun-beam-written truths deny,
And execute plain common sense
On faith's mere hearsay evidence?
That fuperftition mayn't create,
And club its ill with thofe of fate,
-I many a notion take to task,
Made dreadful by its vifor-mask.
Thus fcruple, fpafm of the mind,
Is cur'd, and certainty I find,
Since optick reafon fhews me plain,
I dreaded spectres of the brain,
And legendary fears are gone,
Tho' in tenacious childhood fown.
Thus in opinions I commence
Freeholder in the proper fenfe,
And neither fuit nor service do,
Nor homage to pretenders shew,
Who boast themselves by spurious roll
Lords of the manor of the foul;
Preferring fenfe, from chin that's bare,
To nonfenfe thron'd in whisker'd hair.
To thee, Creator uncreate,
O Entium Ens! divinely great!
Held, Mufe, nor melting pinions try,
Nor near the blazing glory fly,
Nor ftraining break thy feeble bow,
Unfeather'd arrows far to throw :
Thro' fields unknown nor madly stray,
Where no ideas mark the way.
With tender eyes, and colours faint,
And trembling hands forbear to paint.
Who features veil'd by light can hit ?
Where can, what has no outline, fit?
My foul, the vain attempt forego,
Thyfelf, the fitter fubject, know.
He wifely fhuns the bold extreme,
Who foon lays by th' unequal theme,
Nor runs, with wisdom's Sirens caught,
On quickfands fwall'wing fhipwreck'd thought;
But, confcious of his distance, gives
Mute praife, and humble negatives.
In one, no object of our fight,
Immutable and infinite,
Who can't be cruel, or unjust,
Calm and refign'd, I fix my truft;
To him my past and present state
I owe, and muft my future fate.
A ftranger into life I'm come,
Dying may be our going home,
Transported here by angry Fate,
The convicts of a prior state.
Hence I no anxious thoughts bestow
On matters, I can never know;
Thro' life's foul way, like vagrant pass'd,
He'll grant a fettlement at laft,
And with fweet ease the wearied crown,
By leave to lay his being down.
If doom'd to dance th' eternal round
Of life no fooner loft but found,
And diffolution foon to come,
Like fpunge, wipes out life's prefent sum,
|