13. To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies!
One chorus let all beings raise !

All nature's incense rise.

SECTION XVI.
Conscience.

POPE.

1. O TREACH'ROUS conscience! while she seems to sleep,
On rose and myrtle, lull'd with syren song;
While she seems nodding o'er her charge, to drop
On headlong appetite the slacken'd rein,
And gives us up to license, unrecall'd,
Unmark'd ;-see, from behind her secret stand,
The sly informer minutes ev'ry fault,
And her dread diary with horror fills.
2. Not the gross act alone employs her pen :
She reconnoitres fancy's airy band,

A watchful foe! the formidable spy,
List'ning o'erhears the whispers of our camp;
Our dawning purposes of heart explores,
And steals our embryos of iniquity.

3. As all rapacious usurers conceal

Their doomsday-book from all-consuming heirs ;
Thus with indulgence most severe she treats
Us spendthrifts of inestimable time :

Unnoted, notes each moment misapply'd ;

In leaves more durable than leaves of brass,

Writes our whole history; which death shall read
In every pale delinquent's private ear;
And judgment publish; publish to more worlds
Than this; and endless age in groans resound.

SECTION XVII.-ON AN INFANT.

1. To the dark and silent tomb,
Soon I hasten'd from the womb;
Scarce the dawn of life began,
Ere I measur'd out my span.
2. I no smiling pleasures knew;
I no gay delights could view:
Joyless sojourner was I,
Only born to weep and die.
3. Happy infant, early bless'd!
Rest, in peaceful slumber, rest;
Early rescu'd from the cares
Which increase with growing years
4. No delights are worth thy stay,
Smiling as they seem, and gay;
Short and sickly are they all,
Hardly tasted ere they pall.

5. All our gaiety is vain,

All our laughter is but pain;

YOUNG

Lasting only, and divine,
Is an innocence like thine.

SECTION XVIII.

The cuckoo.

1. HAIL, beauteous stranger of the wood,
Attendant on the spring!

Now heav'n repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.
2. Soon as the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear:
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?

3. Delightful visitant! with thee
I hail the time of flow'rs,,

When heav'n is filled with music sweet,
Of birds among the bow'rs.

4. The school-boy, wand'ring in the wood,
To pull the flow'rs so gay,

Starts, thy curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.

5. Soon as the pea puts on the bloom,
Thou fly'st thy vocal vale,

An annual guest, in other lands,
Another spring to hail.

6. Sweet bird! thy bow'r is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear !

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year

ar!

7. O could I fly, I'd fly with thee;
We'd make, with social wing,
Our annual visits o'er the globe,
Com panions of the spring.

SECTION XIX,

Day.-A pastoral in three parts.

MORNING.

1. In the barn the tenant cock,

Close to Partlet perch'd on high,
Briskly crows, (the shepherd's clock)
Jocund that the morning's nigh.
2. Swiftly from the mountain's brow,
Shadows, nurs'd by night, retire,
And the peeping sun-beam, now
Paints with gold the village spire.
3. Philomel forsakes the thorn,

Plaintive where she prates at night;
And the lark to meet the morn,
Soars beyond the shepherd's sight.
4. From the low-roof'd cottage ridge,
See the chatt'ring swallow spring;
Darting through the one-arch'd bridge

236

LOGAN.

Quick she dips her dappled wing. 5. Now the pine tree's waving top Gently greets the morning gale; Kidlings now begin to crop

Daisies, on the dewy dale.

6. From the balmy sweets, uncloy'd, (Restless till her task be done,) Now the busy bee's employ'd, Sipping dew before the sun.

7. Trickling through the crevic'd rock, Where the limpid stream distils, Sweet refreshment waits the flock, When 'tis sun-drove from the hills. 8. Colins for the promised corn

(Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) Anxious ;-whilst the huntsman's horn, Boldly sounding, drowns his pipe.

9. Sweet-O sweet, the warbling throng, On the white emblossom'd spray! Nature's universal song

Echoes to the rising day.

NOON.

10. Fervid on the glitt'ring flood,

Now the noon-tide radiance glows:
Drooping o'er its infant bud,

Not a dew drop's left the rose..
11. By the brook the shepherd dines,
From the fierce meridian heat,
Shelter'd by the branching pines,
Pendant o'er his grassy seat.

12. Now the flock forsakes the glade, Where uncheck'd the sun-beams fall, Sure to find a pleasing shade.

By the ivy'd abbey wall.

13. Echo, in her airy round,

O'er the river, rock, and bill,

Cannot catch a single sound,

Save the clack of yonder mill!

14. Cattle court the zephyrs bland,

Where the streamlet wanders cool;
Or with languid silence stand
Midway in the marshy pool,

15. But from mountain, dell, or stream,
Not a flutt'ring zephyr springs ;
Fearful lest the noon-tide beam
Scorch its soft, its silken wings.

16. Not a leaf has leave to stir,

Nature's lull'd serene-and still!
Quiet e'en the shepherd's cur,
Sleeping on the heath-clad hill.

17. Languid is the landscape round,
Till the fresh descending show't,

19. O'er the heath the heifer strays,
Free-(the furrow'd task is done)-
Now the village windows blaze,
Burnish'd by the setting sun;

20. Now he sets behind the hill,
Sinking from a golden sky:
Can the pencil's mimic skill
Copy the refulgent dye ?
21. Trudging as the ploughmen go,
(To the smoking hamlet bound,)
Giant-like their shadows grow,
Lengthen'd o'er the level ground.
22. Where the rising forest spreads
Shelter for the lordly dome!
To their high-built airy beds,
See the rooks returning home!
23. As the lark, with vary'd tune,
Carols to the ev'ning load;
Mark the mild resplendent moon,
Breaking through a parted cloud!
24. Now the hermit owlet peeps

From the barn or twisted brake,
And the blue mist slowly creeps,
Curling on the silver lake.
25. As the trout in speckled pride,
Playful from its bosom springs;
To the banks a ruffled tide
Verges in successive rings.

26. Tripping through the silken grass
O'er the path-divided dale,
Mark the rose-complexion'd lass
With her well-pois'd milking pail!
27. Linnets with unnumber'd notes,
And the cuckoo bird with two,
Tuning sweet their mellow throats,
Bid the setting sun adieu.

SECTION XX.

The order of nature.

CUNNINGHAM.

1. SEE, through this air, this ocean, and this earth,
All matter quick, and bursting into birth.
Above, how high progressive life may go !
Around, how wide! how deep extend below!
Vast chain of being which from God began,

Natures ethereal, human; angel, man ;
Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see,
No glass can reach ; from infinite to thee,
From thee to nothing. On superior pow'rs
Were we to press, inferior might on ours;
Or in the full creation leave a void,

Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroy'd
From nature's chain, whatever link you strike,
Tenth or ten-thousandth, breaks the chain alike.
2. And, if each system in gradation roll,
Alike essential to th' amazing whole,
The least confusion but in one, not all
That system only, but the whole must fall.
Let earth, unbalanc'd from her orbit fly;
Planets and suns ran lawless through the sky;
Let ruling angels from their spheres be hurl'd,
Being on being wreck'd, and world on world;
Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod,
And nature tremble to the throne of GOD.

All this dread ORDER break-for whom? for thee?
Vile worm! Oh madness! pride! impiety!
3. What if the foot, ordain'd the dust to tread,.
Or hand to toil, aspired to be the head?
What if the head, the eye, or ear repin'd
To serve mere engines to the ruling mind?
Just as absurd for any part to claim
To be another in this gen'ral frame:
Just as absurd, to mourn the tasks or pains,
The great directing MIND OF ALL ordains.
4. All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body nature is, and God the soul:
That, chang'd through all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth, as in th' ethereal frame
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees;
Lives through all life, extends through all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unspent ;
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart;
As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns,
As the rapt seraph that adores and burns;
To him no high, no low, no great, no small;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.
5. Cease, then, nor ORDER imperfection name:
Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
Know thy own point: this kind, this due degrée
Of blindness, weakness, heav'n bestows on thee..
Submit. In this or any other sphere,
Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear:
Safe in the hand of one disposing Pow'r,
Or in the natai, or the mortal hour.
All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;