Fondly they bill. Now to their morning care,
Like our first parents, part the amorous pair:
But ah!-a pair no more!-With spreading wings, 75
From the high-founding cliff a vulture springs;
Steady he fails along th' aerial grey,

Swoops down, and bears yon timorous dove away.
Start we, who worfe than vultures, Nimrods find,
Men meditating prey on human kind?

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Wild beasts to gloomy dens repace their way, Where their couch'd young demand the slaughter'd

prey.

Rooks, from their nodding nefts, black-fwarming fly,
And, in hoarfe uproar, tell the fowler nigh.
Now, in his tabernacle rouz'd, the fun
Is warn'd the blue ætherial fteep to run.
While on his couch of floating jasper laid,

From his bright eye Sleep calls the dewy fhade.
The crystal dome tranfparent pillars raise,

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Whence, beam'd from fapphires, living azure plays: 90
The liquid floor, in-wrought with pearls divine,
Where all his labours in mofaic fhine.

His coronet, a cloud of filver-white;
His robe with unconfuming crimson bright,
Varied with gems, all heaven's collected store!
While his loose locks descend, a golden shower.
If to his steps compar'd, we tardy find
The Grecian racers, who ou ftript the wind,
Fleet to the glowing race behold him start!
His quickening eyes a quivering radiance dart,
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And,

And, while this last nocturnal flag is furl'd,
Swift into life and motion look the world.
The fun-flower now averts her blooming cheek
From west, to view his eastern luftre break.
What gay, creative power his prefence brings !
Hills, lawns, lakes, villages!—the face of things,
All night beneath fucceffive fhadows mifs'd,
Inftant begins in colours to exift:

But abfent these from fons of riot keep,
Loft in impure, unmeditating fleep.
T'unlock his fence, the new-rifen fwain prepares,
And ere forth-driven recounts his fleecy cares;
When, lo! an ambush'd wolf, with hunger bold,
Springs at the prey, and fierce invades the fold!
But by the paftor not in vain defied,
Like our arch foe by fome celeftial guide.

Spread on yon rock the fea-calf I furvey:
Bask'd in the fun, his skin reflects the day.
He fees yon tower-like fhip the waves divide,
And flips again beneath the glaffy tide.

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The watery herbs, and shrubs, and vines, and flowers, Rear their bent heads, o'ercharg'd with nightly showers. Hail, glorious fun! to whose attractive fires,

The waken'd, vegetative life aspires !

The juices, wrought by thy directive force,

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Through plants, and trees, perform their genial course,
Extend in root, with bark unyielding bind
The hearted trunk; or weave the branching rind;
Expand in leaves, in flowery bloffoms fhoot,

Bleed in rich gums, and swell in ripen'd fruit.

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From

From Thee, bright, universal Power! began
Instinct in brute, and generous love in man.
Talk'd I of love?-Yon fwain, with amorous air,
Soft fwells his pipe, to charm the rural fair.
She milks the flocks; then, liftening as he plays,
Steals, in the running brook, a conscious gaze.

The trout, that deep, in winter, ooz'd remains,
Up-fprings, and funward turns its crimson ftains.

The tenants of the warren, vainly chac'd ; Now lur'd to ambient fields for green repaft, Seek their small vaulted labyrinths in vain; Entangling nets betray the fkipping train; Red maffacres through their republic fly, And heaps on heaps by ruthlefs fpaniels die.

The fisher, who the lonely beech has stray'd, And all the live-long night his net-work ípread, Drags in, and bears the loaded fnare away; Where flounce, deceiv'd, th' expiring finny prey.

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Near Neptune's temple (Neptune's now no more), Whofe ftatue plants a trident on the shore, In fportive rings the generous dolphins wind, And eye, and think the image huïnan-kind : Dear, pleafing friendship!-See! the pile commands The vale, and grim at Superstition stands !

Time's hand there leaves its print of moffy green, 155 With hollows, carv'd for fnakes, and birds obfcene. O Gibbs, whofe art the folemn fane can raile, Where GOD delights to dwell, and man to praife; When mouider'd thus the column falls away,

Like lome great prince majestic in decay;

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Wi.en

When Ignorance and Scorn the ground shall tread, Where Wisdom tutor'd, and Devotion pray'd; Where fhall thy pompous work our wonder claim; What, but the Mufe alone, preserve thy name?

The fun fhines, broken, through yon arch that rears This once-round fabric, half-depriv'd by years, Which rose a stately colonnade, and crown'd Encircling pillars now unfaithful found; In fragments, these the fall of those forebode, Which, nodding, juft up-heave their crumbling load. High, on yon column, which has batter'd stood, Like fome ftripp'd oak, the grandeur of the wood, The fork inhabits her aerial neft;

By her are liberty and peace carest ;

She flies the realms that own defpotic kings,
And only spreads o'er free-born states her wings.
The roof is now the daw's, or raven's haunt,
And loathfome toads in the dark entrance pant;
Or fnakes, that lurk to snap the heedless fly,
And fated bird, that oft comes fluttering by.
An aqueduct across yon vale is laid,
Its channel through a ruin'd arch betray'd;
Whirl'd down a steep, it flies with torrent-force,
Flashes, and roars, and plows a devious course.

Attracted mifts a golden cloud commence,

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While through high-colour'd air strike rays intenfe.
Betwixt two points, which yon steep mountains show,
Lies a mild bay, to which kind breezes flow.
Beneath a grotto, arch'd for calm retreat,
Leads lengthening in the rock-Be this my feat.

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Heat

Heat never enters here; but Coolness reigns
O'er zephyrs, and distilling, watery veins.
Secluded now I trace th' inftructive page,

And live o'er fcenes of many a backward age; Through days, months, years, through time's whole courfe I run,

And present stand where time itself begun.

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Ye mighty Dead, of just, distinguish'd fame, Your thoughts, (ye bright inftructors!) here I claim. Here ancient knowledge opens nature's springs; Here truths hiftoric give the hearts of kings. Hence contemplation learns white hours to find, And labours virtue on th' attentive mind: O lov'd retreat! thy joys content bestow, Nor guilt, nor fhame, nor fharp repentance know. What the fifth Charles long aim'd in power to fee, 205 That happiness he found referv'd in thee.

Now let me change the page Here Tully weeps,
While in death's icy arms his Tullia fleeps,
His daughter dear!-Retir'd I fee him mourn,
By all the frenzy now of anguish torn.

Wild his complaint! Nor fweeter Sorrow's ftrains,
When Singer for Alexis lost complains.
Each friend condoles, expostulates, reproves ;
More than a father raving Tully loves;
Or Salluft cenfures thus !-Unheeding blame,
He schemes a temple to his Tullia's name.
Thus o'er my Hermit once did grief prevail,
Thus rofe Olympia's tomb, his moving tale,

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The