Refreshing change! where now the blazing sun? By short transition we have lost his glare, And stepp'd at once into a cooler clime. Ye fallen avenues! once more I mourn Your fate unmerited, once more rejoice, That yet a remnant of your race survives. How airy and how light the graceful arch, Yet awful as the consecrated roof
Re-echoing pious anthems! while beneath The checker'd earth seems restless as a flood Brush'd by the wind. So sportive is the light Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance, Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick, And dark'ning and enlight'ning, as the leaves Play wanton, ev'ry moment, ev'ry spot.
And now, with nerves new-brac'd and spirits
We tread the wilderness, whose well-roll'd walks, With curvature of slow and easy sweep- Deception innocent-give ample space
To narrow bounds. The grove receives us next; Between the upright shafts of whose tall elms We may discern the thresher at his task. Thump after thump resounds the constant flail, That seems to swing uncertain, and yet falls Full on the destin'd ear. Wide flies the chaff, The rustling straw sends up a frequent mist Of atoms, sparkling in the noonday beam. Come hither, ye that press your beds of down, And sleep not; see him sweating o'er his bread
Before he eats it.-'Tis the primal curse, But soften'd into mercy; made the pledge Of cheerful days, and nights without a groan. By ceaseless action all that is subsists. Constant rotation of th' unwearied wheel, That Nature rides upon, maintains her health, Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads
An instant's pause, and lives but while she moves. Its own revolvency upholds the World.
Winds from all quarters agitate the air, And fit the limpid element for use,
Else noxious; oceans, rivers, lakes, and streams, All feel the fresh'ning impulse, and are cleans'd By restless undulation: ev'n the oak
Thrives by the rude concussion of the storm: He seems indeed indignant, and to feel Th' impression of the blast with proud disdain, Frowning, as if in his unconscious arm
He held the thunder: but the monarch owes His firm stability to what he scorns,
More fix'd below, the more disturb'd above. The law, by which all creatures else are bound, Binds man, the lord of all. Himself derives No mean advantage from a kindred cause, From strenuous toil his hours of sweetest ease. The sedentary stretch their lazy length When Custom bids, but no refreshment find, For none they need: the languid eye, the cheek Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid, shrunk,
And wither'd muscle, and the vapid soul,
Reproach their owner with that love of rest, To which he forfeits ev'n the rest he loves. Not such the alert and active. Measure life By its true worth, the comforts it affords, And theirs alone seems worthy of the name. Good health, and, its associate in the most, Good temper; spirits prompt to undertake, And not soon spent, though in an arduous task; The pow'rs of fancy and strong thought are theirs; Ev'n age itself seems privileg'd in them With clear exemption from its own defects. A sparkling eye beneath a wrinkled front The vet'ran shows, and, gracing a gray beard With youthful smiles, descends toward the grave Sprightly, and old almost without decay.
OPENING OF THE SECOND BOOK OF THE TASK.
O FOR a lodge in some vast wildnerness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war,
Might never reach me more. My ear is pain'd, My soul is sick, with ev'ry day's report Of wrong and outrage, with which earth is fill'd. There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart, It does not feel for man; the natʼral bond Of brotherhood is sever'd as the flax, That falls asunder at the touch of fire.
He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
Not colour'd like his own; and having pow'r T'enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey. Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interpos'd Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one. Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys; And, worse than all, and most to be deplor'd As human nature's broadest, foulest blot, Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat With stripes, that Mercy with a bleeding heart Weeps, when she sees inflicted on a beast. Then what is man? And what man, seeing this, And having human feelings, does not blush, And hang his head, to think himself a man? I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth, That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. No: dear as freedom is, and in my heart's Just estimation priz'd above all price,
I had much rather be myself the slave,
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. We have no slaves at home-Then why abroad? And they themselves, once ferried o'er the wave That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd. Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free;
They touch our country, and their shackles fall. That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then, And let it circulate through ev'ry vein
Of all your empire; that, where Britain's pow'r Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.
Arrival of the Post in a Winter Evening-The Newspaper-The World contemplated at a distance-Address to Winter-The rural Amusements of a Winter Evening compared with fashionable ones.
HARK! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright;- He comes, the herald of a noisy world,
With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks; News from all nations lumb'ring at his back. True to his charge, the close pack'd load behind, Yet careless what he brings, his one concern Is to conduct it to the destin❜d inn;
And, having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on. He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some; To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy. Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks,
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