Thanks to Benevolus-he fpares me yet
These chefnuts ranged in correfponding lines;
And, though himself so polished, still reprieves
The obfolete prolixity of fhade.
Defcending now (but cautious, left too faft)
A fudden fteep upon a ruftic bridge
We pass a gulph, in which the willows dip
Their pendent boughs, ftooping as if to drink.
Hence, ancle deep in mofs and flowery thyme,
We mount again, and feel at every step
Our foot half funk in hillocks green and foft,
Raifed by the mole, the miner of the foil.
He, not unlike the great ones of mankind,
Disfigures earth: and, plotting in the dark,
Toils much to earn a monumental pile,
That may record the mischiefs he has done.
The fummit gained, behold the proud alcove
That crowns it! yet not all its pride fecures
The grand retreat from injuries impreffèd
By rural carvers, who with knives deface
The pannels, leaving an obfcure, rude name
John Courtney Throckmorton, Efq. of Wefton Underwood.
In characters uncouth, and fpelt amifs.
So ftrong the zeal to immortalize himself
Beats in the breast of man, that even a few
Few tranfient years, won from the abyfs abhorred
Of blank oblivion, feem a glorious prize,
And even to a clown. Now roves the eye;
And, pofted on this fpeculative height,
Exults in its command. The sheep-fold here
Pours out its fleecy tenants over the glebe.
At first, progreffive as a stream, they seek
The middle field; but, fcattered by degrees,
Each to his choice, foon whiten all the land.
There from the fun-burnt hay-field homeward creeps
The loaded wain; while, lightened of its charge,
The wain that meets it paffes fwiftly by ;
The boorish driver leaning over his team
Vociferous, and impatient of delay.
Nor lefs attractive is the woodland fcene,
Diverfified with trees of every growth,
Alike, yet various. Here the gray fmooth trunks
Of afsh, or lime, or beech, distinctly shine,
Within the twilight of their diftant shades;
There, loft behind a rifing ground, the wood
Seems funk, and shortened to its topmoft boughs.
'No tree in all the grove but has its charms,
Though each its hue peculiar; paler fome,
And of a wannish gray; the willow fuch,
And poplar, that with filver lines his leaf,
And ash far-ftretching his umbrageous arm;
Of deeper green the elm; and deeper still,
Lord of the woods, the long-surviving oak.
Some gloffy-leaved, and shining in the fun,
The maple, and the beech of oily nuts
Prolific, and the lime at dewy eve
Diffufing odours: nor unnoted pafs
The fycamore, capricious in attire,
Now green, now tawny, and, ere autumn yet
Have changed the woods, in scarlet honours bright.
Over thefe, but far beyond (a spacious map
Of hill and valley interpofed between),
The Oufe, dividing the well-watered land,
Now glitters in the fun, and now retires,
As bafhful, yet impatient to be seen.
Hence the declivity is sharp and short,
And fuch the re-afcent; between them weeps
A little naiad her impoverished urn
All fummer long, which winter fills again.
The folded gates would bar my progrefs now,
But that the lord of this enclosed demefne,
Communicative of the good he owns,
Admits me to a fhare; the guiltless eye
Commits no wrong, nor waftes what it enjoys.
Refreshing change! where now the blazing fun?
By short tranfition we have loft his glare,
And stepped 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 confecrated roof
Re-echoing pious anthems while beneath
The checquered earth feems restless as a flood
Brushed by the wind. So fportive is the light
Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance,
Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick,
And darkening and enlightening, as the leaves
Play wanton, every moment, every spot.
with nerves new-braced and spirits cheered, We tread the wilderness, whose well rolled walks, With curvature of flow and easy sweep
Deception innocent-give ample space
To narrow bounds. The grove receives us next;
Between the upright fhafts of whofe tall elms
We may difcern the thresher at his task.
Thump after thump refounds the conftant flail,
That seems to fwing uncertain, and yet falls
Full on the deftined ear. Wide flies the chaff,
The ruftling ftraw sends up a frequent mift
Of atoms, sparkling in the noon-day beam.
Come hither, ye that press your beds of down,
And fleep not; fee him fweating over his bread
Before he eats it.-"Tis the primal curse,
But foftened into mercy; made the pledge
Of cheerful days, and nights without a groan.
By ceaseless action all that is fubfifts. Conftant rotation of the unwearied wheel That nature rides upon maintains her health, Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads
An inftant's pause, and lives but while fhe moves. Its own revolvency upholds the world.
Winds from all quarters agitate the air,
And fit the limpid element for use,
Elfe noxious; oceans, rivers, lakes, and streams,
All feel the freshening impulfe, and are cleanfed
By reftlefs undulation: even the oak
Thrives by the rude concuffion of the storm:
He feems indeed indignant, and to feel
The impreffion of the blaft with proud difdain,
Frowning, as if in his unconfcious arm
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