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“ That norish'd up my fortune, say, ah where, “ In what sequester's desart, halt thou drawn “ The kindest aspect, of delighted heaven? “ Into such beauty spread, and blown so fair; Tho' poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, “ Beat keen and heavy, on thy tender years ? " O let me now, into a richer soil, “ Transplant thee fafe! where vernal suns, .

and showers, “ Diffuse their warmest, largest influence ; " And of my garden be the pride, and joy! “ It ill befits thee, oh it ill befits “ Acasto's daughter, his whose open stores, “ Tho'vast, were little to his ampler heart, « The father of a country, thus to pick “ The very refuse of those harvest-fields, “. Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy. “. Then throw that shameful pittance from

thy hand, " But ill-apply'd to such a rugged talk; " The fields, the master, all, my fair, are

thine ; “ If to the various blessings which thy house Has on me lavilh'd, thou wilt add that bliss, “ That dearest bliss the power of blessing thee!" Here ceas'd the youth: yet still his speaking

eye Express’d the sacred triumph of his soul, With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love, Above the vulgar joy divinely rais’d. Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm Of goodness irresistible, and all In sweet disorder loft, she blush'd consent. The news immediate to her mother brought, While, pierc'd with anxious thought, the pin'd away

The

The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate;
Amaz’d, and scarce believing what she heard,
Joy seiz'd her wither’d veins, and one bright

gleam
Of setting life shone on her evening-hours :
Not less enraptur’d than the happy pair;
Who flourish'd long in tender bliss, and rear'd
A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves,
And good, the grace of all the country round.

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The pale descending year, yet pleasing still,
A gentler mood inspires ; for now the leaf
Incessant rustles from the mournful grove.
Oft startling such as, studious, walk below,
And slowly circles thro’ the waving air.
But mould a quicker breeze amid the boughs
Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams;
Till choak'd and matted with the dreary

shower,
The forest-walks at every rising gale,
Roll wide the wither'd waste, and whistle bleak.
Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields;
And shrunk, into their beds, the flowery race
Their sunny robes resign. Even what remain'd
Of bolder fruits falls from the naked tree;
And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all a, .

round
The desolated prospect thrills the soul.

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·WINTER.

SEE, Winter comes, to rule the vary'd year,

Sullen, and fad, with all his rising train; Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these

my theme, These, that exalt the soul to folemn thought, And heavenly musing. Welcome kindred

glooms ! Cogenial horrors, hail ! with frequent foot Pleas'd have I, in my chearful morn of life, When nurs’d by careless solitude I liv’d, And sung of nature with unceasing joy; Pleas'd have I wander'd thro' your rough

domain ; Trode the pure virgin-snows, myself as pure; Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burli; Or seen the deep fermenting tempest brew'd, In the grim evening-sky. * * * * * *

Then comes the father of the tempeft forth, Wrapt in black glooms. First joyless rains

obscure Drive thro’ the mingling skies with vapour

foul; Dash on the mountain's brow and shake the

woods, That grumbling wave below. Th’ unsightly

plain Lies à brown deluge; as the low-bent clouds · Pour food on flood, yet unexhausted still Combine, and deepening into night shut up The day's fair face. The wanderers of heaven, Each to his home, retire ; save those that love

TO

To take their pastime in the troubled air,
Or skimming futter round the dimply pool.
The cattle from th' untasted fields return,
And ask, with meaning lowe, their wonted

stalls, ; :
Or şuminate in the contiguous shade..
Thither the houshold feathery people crowd,
The crested cock, with all his female train,
Pensive, and dripping ; while the cottage-hind
Hangs o’er th’ enlivening blaze, and taleful

there Recounts his simple frolick: much he talks, And much he laughs, nor recks the storm that

blows Without, and rartles on his humble roof. Wide o'er the brim, with many a torrent

swell’d, And the mix'd ruin of its banks o'erspread, At last the rous’d-up river pours along; Resistless, roaring, dreadful down it comes, From the rude mountain, and the mossy wild, Tumbling thro’rocks abrupt, and sounding far; Then o'er the sanded valley floating spreads, Calm, sluggish, silent; till again constrain'd, Between two meeting hills it bursts a way, Where rocks and woods o’erhang the turbid

stream ; There gathering triple force, rapid, and deep, It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders

thro'.

The mountain thunders; and its sturdy fons
Stoop to the bottom of the rocks they fhade.
Lone on the midnight steep, and all agast,
The dark way-faring stranger breathless toils,
And, often falling, climbs against the blast.
• Gg

Low

Low waves the rooted forrest, vex'd, and sheds What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain ; Dash'd down, and scatter’d, by the tearing

wind's Asliduous fury, its gigantic limbs. Thus struggling thro' the dissipated grove, The whirling tempelt raves along the plain ; And on the cottage thatch’d, or lordly roof, Keen-fastening, fhakes them to the folid base. Sleep frighted flies; and round the rocking

dome, For entrance eager, howls the favage blast. Then too, they say, thro' all the burthen'd

air, Long groans are heard, shrill sounds, and di.

stant fighs, That, utter'd by the demon of the night, Warn the devoted wretch of woe and death. Huge uproar lords:it wide. The clouds

commix'd With stars swift-gliding sweep along the sky. All nature reels. Till nature's King, who oft Amid tempestuous darkness dwells alone, And on the wings of the careering wind Walks dreadfully serene, commands a calm.; Then straight air, sea and earth are hush'd at

once. As yet 'tis midnight deep. The weary

clouds, Slow-meeting mingle into solid gloom. Now, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleep, Let me associate with the serious night, And contemplation here sedate compear; Let me shake off th'intrusive cares of day, And lay the meddling senses all aside.

Where now, ye lying vanities of life!

Ye

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