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Bricks line the sides, but shiver'd long ago,
Nor yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, With which the fieldfare, wintry guest, is fed ; Nor Autumn yet had brush'd from every spray, With her chill hand, the mellow leaves away; But corn was housed, and beans were in the stack, Now therefore issued forth the spotted pack, With tails high mounted, ears hung low, and
throats With a whole gamut fillid of heavenly notes; For which, alas! my destiny severe, Though ears she gave me two, gave me no ear.
The Sun, accomplishing his early march, His lamp now planted on heaven's topmost arch, When, exercise and air my only aim, And heedless whither, to that field I came, Ere yet with ruthless joy the happy hound Told hill and dale that Reynard's track was found, Or with the high-raised horn's melodious clang All Kilwick * and all Dinglederry* rang. Sheep grazed the field; some with soft bosom
press'd The herb as soft, while nibbling stray'd the rest; Nor noise was heard but of the hasty brook, Struggling, detain'd in many a petty nook. All seem'd so peaceful, that, from them convey'd, To me their peace by kind contagion spread.
But when the huntsman with distended cheek 'Gan make his instrument of music speak, And from within the wood that crash was heard, Though not a hound from whom it burst appear'd,
* Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Esq.
The sheep recumbent and the sheep that grazed,
The man to solitude accustom'd long Perceives in every thing that lives a tongue ; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease; After long drought, when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all: Knows what the freshness of their hue implies, How glad they catch the largess of the skies; But, with precision nicer still, the mind He scans of every locomotive kind; Birds of all feather, beasts of every name, That serve mankind or shun them, wild or tame; The looks and gestures of their griefs and fears Have all articulation in his ears; He spells them true by intuition's light, And needs no glossary to set him right.
This truth premised was needful as a text, To win due credence to what follows next.
A while they mused; surveying every face, Thou hadst supposed them of superior race; Their periwigs of wool and fears combined, Stamp'd on each countenance such marks of mind That sage they seem'd as lawyers o'er a doubt, Which, puzzling long, at last they puzzle out;
Or academic tutors, teaching youths,
Friends! we have lived too long. I never heard
Him answer'd then his loving mate and true, But more discreet than he, a Cambrian ewe.
How, leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave? For can we find it less ? Contemplate first The depth, how awful! falling there, we burst: Or should the brambles, interposed, our fall In part abate, that happiness were small ?
For with a race like theirs no chance I see
While thus she spake, I fainter heard the peals,
Beware of desperate steps. The darkest day, Live till to-morrow, will have pass'd away.
O SAY, when I tried your affection to move,
Why deaf to my sighs and my prayers ? Perhaps it was right to dissemble your loveBut why did you kick me down stairs ?
LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED:
Thus says the prophet of the Turk, .
You laugh—'tis well—The tale applied