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Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly, to the list ning earth,
Repeats the story of her birth :
Whilft all the stars that round her burn,,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings, as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole..

What though, in folemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ?...
What thongh no real voice nor found.:
Amid their radiánt orbs be found ?
In Reason's ear they all rejoice"
And utter forih a glorious voice, ,
For ever singing as they shine,
th The hand that made us is divine."""

IV. Rural Charms..

SWEET Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain !

Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring fwain ; Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's ling’ring blooms delay'd: : Dear lovely bow'rs of innocence and ease ! Seats of my youth, when ev'ry fport could please ! How often have I loiter'd o’er thy green, Where humble happiness endear'd each scene!. How often have I pausid on ev'ry charm !! The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topp'd the neighbouring hill; The hawthorn bush, with fears beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made.

How often have I bless'd the coming day, When toil, remitting, lent its turn to play, And all the village-train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the fpreading tree !! While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old survey'd ; And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground, And flights of art, and feats of strength, went round;

And

And Nill, as each repeated pleasure tir'd,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band infpir'd :
The dancing pair, that simply fought renown
By holding out to tire each other down;
The swain, miltrustless of his smutted face,
While secret laughter titter'd round the place ;
The bashful virgin's fide-long looks of love;
The matron's glance, that would those looks reprove.

Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close,
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose.
There, as I pass’d with careless steps and flow,
The mingling notes came foften'd from below.
The swain, responsive as the milkmaid sung;
The fober herd, that low'd to meet their young.;
The noisy geese, that gabbled o'er the pool ;
The playful children, just let loose from school;
The watch-dog's voice, that bay'd the whisp'ring wind ;
And the loud laugh, that spoke the vacant mind :-
These all, in soft confusion, fought the shade,
And, fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.

V. The Painter who pleased Nobody and Every Body. LEST 'men suspect your tale untrue,

Keep probability in view.
The trav’ller, leaping o'er those bounds,
The credit of his book confounds;
Who with his tongue hath armies routed,
Makes ev'n his real courage

doubted.
But flatt'ry never seems absurd ;
The flatter'd always take your word:-
Impoflibilities seem just;
They take the strongest praise on trust::
Hyperboles, though e'er fo great,
Will still come short of self-conceit.

So very like a painter drew,
That every eye the picture knew ; -
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So just, that life itself was there.
No flatt'ry with his colours laid,
To bloom restor'd the faded maid ;
He gave each muscle all its strength ;
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length,

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His honest pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
He lost his friends; his practice faild;
Truth should not always be reveald ;
In dufty piles his pictures lay,
For no one lent the second pay.

Two butto's, franght with ev'ry grace,
A Venus' and Apollo's face,
He plac'd in view : refoly'd to please,
Whoever fat, he drew from there ;
From these corrected ev'ry feature,
And spirited each awkward creature.

All things were fet; the hour was come,
His pallet ready o'er his thumb:
My Lord appear'd, and, seated right
lo proper attitude and light,
The painter look'd, he sketch'd the piece;
Then dipt his pencil, talk'd of Greece,
Of Titian's times, of Guido's air
Tlose eyes, my Lord, the spirit oliere:
Might well a Raphael's hand require,
To give them all the native fire :
The features fraught with fense and wit,
You'll grant, are very hard to hit";
But yet, with patienee, you fall view
As much as paint or are rar do ;
Observe the work'. My Lord reply'd,
"Till now I thought my mouth was wide;
Besides, my nofe is somewhat long;
Dear Sir, for me, 'tis far too young."
“O, pardon ine" the artist cry'd,
" In this we painters must decide.
The piece ev's common eyes must strike;
i warrant it extremely like.rs
My Lord examin'd it anewa
No looking-glass feem'd half fo true.

A lady came. With borrow'd grace
He from his Venus form'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the painter's art,
So like the picture in his heart.!
To ev'ry age fome charm he lent;
Ey'n beauties were alınoft contenta.

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Through all the town his art they prais'd,
His custom grew, his price was rais’d.
Had he the real likeness shown,
Would any inan the pi&ture own?
But when thus happily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.

VI. Diversity in the Hanian Character,
VIRTUOUS and vicious ev'ry man must be,

Fow in th’extreme, but all in the degree ;
The rogue and fool by fits arc fair and wise,
And ev'n the best, by fits, what they defpike.
'Tis but by parts we follow good or ill,
For, Vice or Virtue, Self directs it ftill:
Each individual seeks a fev'ral goal;
But Heav'n's great view is one, and that the Whole.
That counter works'each folly and caprice ;
That disappoints th effect of ev'ry vice :
That happy frailties to all ranks apply'd--
Shame to the virgin, to the marron pride,
Fear to the statesman, rashness to the chief,
To kings presumption, and to crowds belief.
That Virtue's ends from Vanity can raise,
Which seeks no int'rest, no reward but praise;
And build on wants, and on defects of mind,
The joy, the peace, the glory of mankind.

Heaven forming each on other to' depend,
A master, or a servant, or a friend,
Bids each on other for affistance call,
Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all..
Wants, frailties, paffions, closer ftill ally
The common int’reft, or endear the tie.
To these we owe true frieuddhip, love fincere,
Each home-felt joy that life inherits here:
Yet, from the same, we learn, in its decline,
Those joys, those loves, those int'refts to resign:
Taught half by reason, half hy niere decay,
To welcome death, and calliy pafs away.

Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf,
Not one will change his neighbour with himself.
The learn'd is happy nature to explore,
The fool is happy that he knows no more ;

The

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age :

The rich is happy in the plenty given,
The poor contents him with the care of Heavin,
See the blind beggar dance, the cripple sing,
The sot a hero, lunatic a king,
The starving chymist in his golden views
Supremely bleft, the poet in his muse.

See fome trange comfort ev'ry state attendi
And Pride bestow'd on all, a common friend;
See fome fit Paffion ev'ry age fupply,
Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.

Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleas'd with a rattle, tickled with a straw:
Some livelier play thing gives his youth delight,
A little louder, but as empty quite :
Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper ftage;
And cards and counters are the toys of
Pleas'd with this bauble still, as that before ;
Till tir'd he feeps, and Life's poor play is o'er!

Mean while Opinion gilds with varying rays
Those painted clouds that beautify our days;
Each want of happiness by Hope supply'd,
And each vacuity of lense by Pride.
These build as fast as knowledge can destroy;
In Folly's cup still laughs the bubble, joy:
One prospect loft, another ftill we gain ;
And not a vanity is giv’n in vain ;
Ev'n mean self-love becomes, by force divine,
The scale to measure others' wants by thine.
See ! and confess one comfort ftill mult rise ;
Tis this: Though Man's a fool, yet God is wise.

VII. The Toilet.
AND, now, unveild, the toilet stands display'd,

Each giver vase in myftic order laid.
Fiilt, rob’d in white, the nymph intent adores,
With head uncover'd, the cosmetic pow'rs,
A beav'aly image in the glass appears :
To that the bends, to that her eye the rears.
Th’inferiour priestess, at the altar's side,
Trembling, begins the facred rites of pride.
Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here
The various offrirgs of the world appear :

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