Reflection and remorse, the fear of shame, And their invet'rate habits, all forbid. 490 Whom call we gay? That honour has been long That dries his feathers, saturate with dew, But save me from the gayety of those, Whose headachs nail them to a noonday bed; 500 The Earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleas'd with novelty, might be indulg'd. Till half their beauties fade; the weary sight, 510 Too well acquainted with their smiles, slides off Then snug enclosures in the shelter'd vale, Not senseless of it's charms, what still we love, Bound homeward, and in hope already there, And at his feet the baffled billows die. The common, overgrown with fern, and rough 520 With prickly gorse, that, shapeless and deform'd, There often wanders one, whom better days Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimm'd With lace, and hat with splendid riband bound. A serving maid was she, and fell in love With one who left her, went to sea, and died. Her fancy follow'd him through foaming waves To distant shores; and she would sit and weep At what a sailor suffers; fancy too, Delusive most where warmest wishes are, Would oft anticipate his glad return, And dream of transports she was not to know. She heard the doleful tidings of his death 530 541 And never smil'd again! and now she roams The dreary waste; there spends the livelong day, The livelong night. A tatter'd apron hides, 550 And hoards them in her sleeve; but needful food, Though press'd with hunger oft, or comelier clothes, Though pinch'd with cold, asks never.-Kate is craz'd. I see a column of slow rising smoke O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild. A vagabond and useless tribe there eat Their miserable meal. A kettle, slung Between two poles upon a stick transverse, Receives the morsel-flesh obscene of dog, Or vermin, or at best of cock purloin'd 560 |