Its plumy burden; and their self-taught wings
Winnow the waving element. On ground
Alighted, bolder up again they lead,
Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight;
Till, vanish'd every fear, and every power
Rous'd into life and action, light in air
Th' acquitted parents fee their foaring race,
And once rejoicing never know them more.
High from the fummit of a craggy cliff,
Hung o'er the deep, fuch as amazing frowns
On utmost Kilda's fhore, whofe lonely race
Refign the fetting fun to Indian worlds,
The royal eagle draws his vigorous young,
Strong-pounc'd, and ardent with paternal fire.
Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own,
He drives them from his fort, the towering feat,
For ages of his empire; which, in peace,
Unftain'd he holds, while many a league to fea
He wings his course, and preys in distant ifles.
·Should I my steps turn to the rural seat,
Whofe lofty elms, and venerable oaks,
Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs,
In early Spring, his airy city builds,
And ceafelefs caws amufive; there, well-pleas'd,
I might the various polity furvey
Of the mixt houfhold kind.
Calls all her chirping family around,
Fed and defended by the fearless cock;
Whofe breaft with ardour flames, as on he walks,
*The farthest of the western islands of Scotland,
Graceful and crows defiance. In the pond,
The finely-checker'd duck, before her train,
Rows garrulous. The ftately-failing swan
Gives out his fnowy plumage to the gale;
And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet
Bears forward fierce, and guards his ofier-isle,
Protective of his young. The turkey nigh,
Loud threatening reddens; while the peacock spreads
His every-colour'd glory to the fun,
And fwims in radiant majefty along.
O'er the whole homely scene, the cooing dove
Flies thick in amorous chace, and wanton rolls
The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. 785
While thus the gentle tenants of the shade
Indulge their purer loves, the rougher world
Of brutes, below, rush furious into flame,
And fierce defire. Through all his lufty veins
The bull, deep-fcorch'd, the raging paflion feels. 790
Of pafture fick, and negligent of food,
Scarce feen, he wades among the yellow broom,
While o'er his ample fide the rambling sprays
Luxuriant fhoot; or through the mazy wood
Dejected wanders, nor th' inticing bud
Crops, though it preffes on his carelefs fenfe.
And oft, in jealous maddening fancy wrapt,
He feeks the fight; and, idly-butting, feigns
His rival gor'd in every knotty trunk.
Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins: 800 Their eyes flash fury; to the hollow'd earth,
Whence the fand flies, they mutter bloody deeds,
And, groaning deep, th' impetuous battle mix:
While the fair heifer, balmy breathing, near,
Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed,
With this hot impulse feiz'd in every nerve,
Nor heeds the rein, nor hears the founding thong;
Blows are not felt; but, toffing high his head,
And by the well-known joy to diftant plains
Attracted strong, all wild he bursts away;
O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies:
And, neighing, on th' aërial fummit takes
Th' exciting gale; then, steep-descending, cleaves
The headlong torrents foaming down the hills,
Ev'n where the madness of the ftraiten'd ftream
Turns in black eddies round; fuch is the force
With which his frantic heart and finews fwell.
Nor undelighted by the boundless Spring
Are the broad monfters of the foaming deep:
From the deep ooze and gelid cavern rous'd,
They flounce and tumble in unwieldly joy.
Dire were the ftrain, and dissonant, to fing
The cruel raptures of the favage kind:
How by this flame their native wrath fublim'd,
They roam, amid the fury of their heart,
And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme
The far-refounding waste in fiercer bands,
I fing, enraptur'd, to the British Fair,
Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow,
Where fits the fhepherd on the graffy turf,
Inhaling, healthful, the defcending fun.
Around him feeds his many-bleating flock,
Of various cadence; and his sportive lambs,
This way and that convolv'd, in friskful glee,
Their frolicks play. And now the fprightly race 835 Invites them forth; when swift, the fignal given,
They start away, and sweep the maffy mound
That runs around the hill; the rampart once
Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times,
When difunited Britain ever bled,
Lost in eternal broil: ere yet she grew
To this deep-laid indissoluble state,
Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden heads;
And o'er our labours, Liberty and Law,
Impartial, watch; the wonder of a world!
What is this mighty Breath, ye fages, fay,
That, in a powerful language, felt, not heard,
Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through their breast
These arts of love diffuses? What, but God?
Infpiring God! who, boundless Spirit all,
And unremitting Energy, pervades,
He ceafelefs works alone; and
Adjufts, fuftains, and agitates the whole.
Seems not to work: with fuch perfection fram'd
Is this complex ftupendous fcheme of things.
But, though conceal'd, to every purer eye
Th' informing Author in his works appears:
Chief, lovely Spring, in thee, and thy foft fcenes,
The Smiling God is feen; while water, earth,
And air, atteft his bounty; which exalts
The brute creation to this finer thought,
And annual melts their undefigning hearts
Profufely thus in tenderness and joy.
Still let my fong a nobler note affume,
And fing th' infufive force of Spring on Man;
When heaven and earth, as if contending, vye
To raise his being, and ferene his foul.
Can he forbear to join the general smile
Of Nature? Can fierce paflions vex his breast,
While every gale is peace, and every grove
Is melody? Hence! from the bounteous walks
Of flowing Spring, ye fordid fons of earth,
Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe!
Or only lavish to yourselves; away!
But come, ye generous minds, in whofe wide thought,
Of all his works, creative Bounty burns
With warmest beam; and on your open front
And liberal eye, fits, from his dark retreat
Inviting modeft Want. Nor, till invok'd
Can reflefs goodness wait: your active fearch
Leaves no cold wintery corner unexplor'd;
Like filent-working Heaven, furprizing oft
The lonely heart with unexpected good.
For you the roving fpirit of the wind
Blows Spring abroad; for you the teeming clouds 885 Defcend in gladfome plenty o'er the world;
And the fun fheds his kindest rays
Ye flower of human race! In these green days,
Reviving ficknefs lifts her languid head:
Life flows afresh; and young-ey'd Health exalts 890
The whole creation round. Contentment walks
The funny glade, and feels an inward blifs
Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings
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