• Life rifing ftill on life, in higher tone,

Perfection forms, and with perfection bliss.

In univerfal Nature this clear fhown,

• Nor needeth proof: to prove it were, I wis, • To prove the beauteous world excels the brute abyss.

Is not the field, with lively culture green,

A fight more joyous than the dead morafs?
• Do not the skies, with active ether clean,
• And fann'd by fprightly zephyrs, far surpass
• The foul November fogs and flumb'rous mafs

With which fad Nature veils her drooping face?
• Does not the mountain-ftream, as clear as glafs,
Gay-dancing on, the putrid pool difgrace?
The fame in all holds true, but chief in human race.

'It was not by vile loitering in ease

< That Greece obtain❜d the brighter palm of art;
That foft, yet ardent Athens, learn'd to please,
• To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart,
In all fupreme, compleat in every part;

It was not thence majestick Rome arofe,
And o'er the nations fhook her conquering dart:
For fluggard's brow the laurel never grows;
• Renown is not the child of indolent Repofe.

• Had unambitious mortals minded nought
• But in loose joy their time to wear away;
Had they alone the lap of Dalliance fought,
• Pleas'd on her pillow their dull heads to lay,
Rude Nature's ftate had been our ftaté to-day;
• No cities é'er their towery fronts had rais'd,

• No arts had made us opulent and gay;

• With brother brutes the human race had graz'd;

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None e'er had foar'd to fame, none honour'd been, none prais'd.

• Great

Great Homer's fong had never fir'd the breast
To thirft of glory and heroick deeds;
Sweet Maro's Mufe, funk in inglorious reft,

Had filent flept amid the Mincian reeds:
The wits of modern time had told their beads,

And monkish legends been their only strains; • Our Milton's Eden had lain wrapt in weeds,

Our Shakespeare stroll'd and laugh'd with Warwick swains, Ne had my mafter Spenfer charm'd his Mulla's plains.

Dumb, too, had been the fage hiftorick Mufe,

And perish'd all the fons of ancient fame; Thofe ftarry lights of virtue, that diffuse

F

Thro' the dark depth of time their vivid flame,
Had all been loft with fuch as have no name.
Who then had scorn'd his ease for others good?
• Who then had toil'd rapacious men to tame?
Who in the publick breach devoted stood,

.

And, for his country's caufe, been prodigal of blood?

But fhould your hearts to fame unfeeling be,

If right I read, you pleafure all require;'
• Then hear how best may be obtain❜d this fee,
How best enjoy'd this Nature's wide defire.
Toil, and be glad; let Industry inspire

Into your quicken'd limbs her buoyant breath:
Who does not act is dead; absorpt entire

In miry floth, no pride, no joy, he hath;

< O leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death!

Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven,
• When drooping health and spirits go amifs?
How tasteless, then, whatever can be given!
• Health is the vital principle of bliss,

• An

And exercise of health. In proof of this,
• Behold the wretch who flugs his life away,
• Soon fwallow'd in difeafe's fad abyfs;

While he whom toil has brac'd, or manly play,.
Has light as air each limb, each thought as clear as day.

O who can speak the vigorous joy of health! • Unclogg'd the body, unobfcur'd the mind; The morning rifes gay, with pleasing stealth, The temperate evening falls ferene and kind. • In health the wifer brutes true gladness find:

See! how the younglings frifk along the meads, As May comes on, and wakes the balmy wind! • Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds; Yet what but high-ftrung health this dancing pleasaunce breeds?

But here, instead, is fofter'd every ill

• Which or distemper'd minds or bodies know. Come, then, my kindred spirits! do not spill • Your talents here. This place is but a show, • Whose charms delude you to the den of Woes • Come, follow me; I will direct you right, • Where Pleasure's rofes, void of ferpents, grow,

• Sincere as sweet: come, follow this good knight, And you will blefs the day that brought him to your fight..

• Some he will lead to courts, and fome to camps; To fenates fome, and publick fage debates, Where, by the folemn gleam of midnight lamps, • The world is pois'd, and manag'd mighty states To high discovery some, that new-creates

The face of earth; fome to the thriving mart; • Some to the rural reign, and fofter fates;

To the sweet Mufes fome, who raise the heart: * All glory fhall be yours, all nature, and all art.

There are, I fee, who listen to my lay ;

Who, wretched, figh for virtue, but defpair. "All may be done," methinks I hear them say, « E'en death defpis'd, by generous actions fair; "All, but for those who to thefe bowers repair, "Their every power dissolv'd in luxury, "To quit of torpid fluggishness the lair,

"And from the powerful arms of Sloth get free; " 'Tis rifing from the dead-Alas !—it cannot be !"

• Would you, then, learn to diffipate the band

Of thefe huge threat'ning difficulties dire, That in the weak man's way like lions ftand,

His foul appall, and damp his rifing fire?

• Refolve, refolve! and to be men afpire.

Exert that nobleft privilege, alone,

Here to mankind indulg'd; control defire;

Let godlike Reafon from her fovereign throne

Speak the commanding word-"I will!"-and it is done.

Heavens! can you, then, thus wafte, in fhameful wife, Your few important days of trial here ?

Heirs of eternity! yborn to rife

Thro' endless ftates of being; ftill more near
To blifs approaching, and perfection clear,
'Can you renounce a fortune so fublime?

Such glorious hopes, your backward steps to fteer,
And roll, with vilest brutes, thro' mud and flime ?
No! no! your heaven-touch'd hearts difdain the fordid crime!'

Enough! enough!' they cry'd.-Straight from the crowd The better fort on wings of transport fly;

As when amid the lifelefs fummits proud

Of Alpine cliffs, where to the gelid fky

Snows

Snows pil'd on fnows in wintry torpor lie,

The rays divine of vernal Phoebus play;
Th' awaken'd heaps, in ftreamlets from on high,
Rouz'd into action, lively leap away,

Glad-warbling thro' the vales, in their new being gay,

Not lefs the life, the vivid joy ferene,

That lighted up thefe new-created men,
Than that which wings th' exulting fpirit clean,
When, juft deliver'd from this fleshly den,
It foaring feeks it's native skies agen.

How light it's effence! how unclogg'd it's powers!
Beyond the blazon of my mortal pen!

E'en fo we glad forfook these finful bowers, E'en fuch enraptur'd life, fuch energy was ours.

But far the greater part, with rage enflam'd,
Dire-mutter'd curfes, and blafphem'd high Jove.
Ye fons of hate!' they bitterly exclaim'd,

• What brought ye to this feat of peace and love?
• While with kind Nature, here, amid the grove,
'We pafs'd the harmless sabbath of our time ;
What to difturb it could, fell men! emove

• Your barbarous hearts? Is happiness a crime?
Then do the fiends of hell rule in yon heaven fublime!"

Ye impious Wretches!' quoth the knight in wrath, • Your happiness behold! Then ftraight a wand

He wav'd, an anti-magick power that hath

Truth from illufive falfhood to command.

Sudden the landfcape finks on every hand;

The pure quick ftreams are marshy puddles found; On baleful heaths the groves all blacken'd stand,

And o'er the weedy, foul, abhorred ground,

Snakes, adders, toads, each loathfome creature, crawls around.

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