Cafts a long look where England's glories fhine,
And bids his bofom fympathize with mine.

Vain, very vain, my weary fearch, to find
That blifs which only centers in the mind!
Why have I ftray'd from pleasure and repofe,
To feek a good each government beftows?
In ev'ry government, though terrors reign,,
Though tyrant kings, or tyrant laws reftrain,
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
Still to ourselves in ev'ry place confign'd,
Our own felicity we make or find:

With fecret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestick joy..
The lifted ax, the agonizing wheel,

Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel,
To men remote from power but rarely known,
Leave reason, faith, and confcience, all our own.

Trudging as the ploughmen go,

(To the fmoaking hamlet bound) Giant-like their fhadows grow, Lengthen'd o'er the level ground.

Where the rifing foreft fpreads
Shelter for the lordly dome!
To their high-built airy beds,
See the rooks returning home!

As the lark, with vary'd tune,
Carols to the evening loud;
Mark the mild refplendent moon,
Breaking through a parted cloud!

Now the hermit howlet peeps

From the barn or twifted brake; And the blue mift flowly creeps, Curling on the filver lake.

As the trout in fpeckled pride,
Playful from it's bofom fprings;

To the banks, a ruffled tide
Verges in fucceffive rings.

Tripping through the filken grass,
O'er the path-divided dale,
Mark the rofe-complexion'd lafs
With her well-pois'd milking pail!

Linnets with unnumber'd notes,

And the cuckow-bird with two,

Tuning fweet their mellow throats,
Bid the fetting fun adieu.

ODE