AUTUM N.

CROWN'D with the fickle and the wheaten fheaf,
While AUTUMN, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleas'd, I tune. Whate'er the Wintry froft
Nitrous prepar'd, the various-bloffom'd Spring
Put in white promise forth, and Summer funs
Concocted ftrong, rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and fwell my glorious theme.

ONSLOW! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, infpire, and dignify her fong,
Would from the Public Voice thy gentle ear
Awhile engage. Thy noble cares fhe knows,
The patriot virtues that diftend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bofom glow;
While listening fenates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving thro' the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods sweeter than her song.

But she too pants for public virtue, she,

Tho' weak of power, yet ftrong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Affumes a bolder note, and fondly tries

To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra weighs in equal fcales the year;
From heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook
Of parting Summer, a ferener blue,

With golden light enlivened, wide invefts
The happy world. Attemper'd funs arise,
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft thro' lucid clouds
A pleafing calm; while broad, and brown, below
Extenfive harvefts hang the heavy head.

Rich, filent, deep, they ftand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain :
A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air

Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.
Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;

The clouds fly different; and the fudden fun
By fits effulgent gilds th' illumin'd field,
And black by fits the fhadows fweep along.
A gaily-checker'd, heart-expanding view,
Far as the circling eye can fhoot around,
Unbounded toffing in a flood of corn.

These are thy bleffings, INDUSTRY! rough power!

Whom labour still attends, and fweat, and pain;

Yet the kind fource of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life:

Raifer of human kind! by Nature caft,
Naked, and helplefs, out amid the woods.
And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
With various feeds of art deep in the mind
Implanted, and profufely pour'd around
Materials infinite; but idle all.

Still unexerted, in th' unconfcious breast,
Slept the lethargic powers; corruption still,
Voracious, fwallowed what the liberal hand
Of bounty scatter'd o'er the savage year :
And ftill the fad barbarian, roving, mix'd
With beasts of prey; or for his acorn-meal
Fought the fierce tufky boar; a fhivering wretch!
Aghaft, and comfortlefs, when the bleak north,
With Winter charg'd, let the mix'd tempeft fly,
Hail, rain, and fnow, and bitter-breathing frost:
Then to the fhelter of the hut he fled;

And the wild feafon, fordid, pin'd away.
For home he had not; home is the refort
Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,
Supporting and fupported, polifh'd friends,

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And dear relations mingle into blifs.
But this the rugged favage never felt,
Even defolate in crowds; and thus his days
Roll'd heavy, dark, and unenjoy'd, along:
A wafte of time! till INDUSTRY approach'd,
And rous'd him from his miserable sloth;
His faculties unfolded; pointed out,
Where lavish Nature the directing hand
Of Art demanded; fhew'd him how to raise
His feeble force by the mechanic powers,
To dig the mineral from the vaulted earth,
On what to turn the piercing rage of fire,
On what the torrent, and the gather'd blast;
Gave the tall ancient forest to his axe;

Taught him to chip the wood, and hew the ftone,
Till by degrees the finish'd fabric rofe;
Tore from his limbs the blood polluted fur,
And wrapt them in the woolly vestment warm,
Or bright in gloffy filk, and flowing lawn ;
With wholesome viands fill'd his table, pour'd
The generous glafs around, infpir'd to wake
The life-refining foul of decent wit:
Nor stopp'd at barren bare neceffity;
But ftill advancing bolder, led him on
To pomp, to pleasure, elegance, and grace;