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And see where furly Winter passes off,
Far to the North, and calls his ruffian Blafts ;
His Blaits obey, and quit the howling Hill,
The shatter'd Forest, and the ravag'd Vale:
While softer Gales succeed, at whose kind Touch,
Diffolving Snows in sudden Torrents loft,
The Mountains lift their green Heads to the Sky.

As yet the trembling Year is unconfirm'd,
And Winter oft at Eve resumes the Breeze,
Chills the pale Morn, and bids his driving Sleets
Deform the Day delightless ; so that scarce
The Bittern knows his Time, with bill inguspht
To shake the sounding Marsh; or from the Shore

The Plovers theirs, to scatter o'er the Heath,
And fing their wild Notes to the listening Waste:

At last from Arieś rolls the bounteous Sun, And the bright Bull receives Him. Then no more Th'expansive Atmosphere is cramp'd with Cold, But full of Life, and vivifying Soul, Lifts the light Clouds sublime, and spreads them thin, Fleecy, and white, o'er All-surrounding Heaven.

FORTH fly the tepid Airs; and unconfin'd, Unbinding Earth, the moving Softness strays. Joyous th' impatient Husbandman perceives Relenting Nature, and his lusty Steers Drives from their Stalls, to where the well-us'd Plow Lies in the Furrow loosen'd from the Frost. There, unrefusing to the harness'd yoke, They lend their Shoulder, and begin their Toil, Cheard by the fimple Song, and soaring Lark. Mean-while incumbent o'er the shining Share The Master leans, removes th' obstructing Clay, Winds the whole Work, and fide-long lays the Glebe.

WHITE thro' the neighb'ring Fields the Cower

ftalks,

With measur'd Step, and lib'ral throws the Grain

Into the faithful Bofom of the Earth.

The Harrow follows harsh, and shuts the Scene.

B: gracious, Heaven! for now laborious Man Has done his Due. Ye fostering Breezes blow! Ye softening Dews, ye tender Showers descend ! And temper all, thou influential Sun,

Into the perfect Year! Ncr, Ye who live
In Luxury and Ease, in Pomp and Pride,
Think these loft Themes unworthy of your Ear,
'Twas such as these the Rural Maro sung
To the full Roman Court, in all it's Height
Of Elegance and Taste. The facred Plow
Employ'd the Kings and Fathers of Mankind,
In ancient Times. And Some, with whom compar'd
You're but the Beings of a Summer's Day,
Have held the Scale of Justice, shook the Launce
Of mighty War, then with descending Hand,
Unus'd to little Delicacies, seiz'd
The Plow, and greatly independent liv'd.

Ye generous

Britons cultivate the Plow ! And o'er your Hills, and long 'with-drawing Vales, Let Autumn spread his Treafures to the Sun, Luxuriant, and unbounded. As the Sea, Far thro' his azure, turbulent Extent, Your Empire owns, and from a thousand Shores Wafts all the Pomp of Life into your Ports, So with superior Boon may your rich Soil,

Exuberant, Nature's better Blessings pour
O'er every Land ; the naked Nations cloath,
And be th' exhauftless Granary of the World.

Nor thro' the lenient Air alone, this Change
Delicious breathes; the penetrative Sun,
His force deep-darting to the dark Retreat
Of Vegetation, sets the streaming Power
At large, to wander o'er the verdant Earth
In various Hues, but chiefly Thee, gay Green!
Thou smiling Nature's universal Robe !
United Light and Shade 1 where the Sight dwells
With growing Strength, and ever-new Delight!

From the moist Meadow to the brown-brow'd

Hill,

Led by the Breeže, 'the vivid Verdure runs,
And swells, and deepens to the cherish'd Eye.
The Hawthorn whitens; and the juicy Groves
Put forth their Buds, unfolding by Degrees,
Till the whole leafy Forest stands display'd
In full Luxuriance, to the fighing Gales,
While the Deer rafle thro' the twining Brake,

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And the Birds fing conceal'd. At once array'd In all the Colours of the flushing Year, By Nature's swift and secret-working Hand, The Garden glows, and fills the liberal Air With lavish Fragrance ; while the promis’d Fruit Lies yet a little Embrio, unperceiv'd, Within it's Crimson Folds. Now from the Town Buried in Smoak, and Sleep, and noisome Damps, Oft let me wander o'er the dewy Fields, Where Freshness breathes, and dash the lucid Drops From the bent Bush, as thro' the fuming Maze Of Sweet-Briar Hedges I pursue my Walk; Or taste the Smell of Dairy ; or ascend Some Eminence, Augusta, in thy Plains, And see the Country far-diffus'd around One boundless Blush, one snow-empurpled Shower of mingled Blossoms; where the raptur'd Eye Travels from Joy to Joy, and, hid beneath The fair Profusion, yellow Autumn {pies.

If brush'd from Rufian Wilds a cutting Gale
Rise not, and scatter from his foggy Wings
The bittér Mildew, or dry blowing breathe

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