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Or, if you rather choose the rural fhade,
And find a fane in every facred grove;
There, let the fhepherds flute, the virgin's lay,
The prompting feraph, and the poet's lyre,
Still fing the God of feafons as they roll.
For me, when I forget the darling theme,
Whether the bloffom blows, the fummer-ray
Ruffets the plain, infpiring autumn gleams,
Or winter rifes in the black'ning eaft-
Be my tongue muté; may fancy paint no more;
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!

SHOULD fate command me to the fartheft verge
Of the green earth; to diftant barbarous climes ;
Rivers unknown to fong; where firft the fun
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam
Flames on th' Atlantic ifles; 'tis nought to me,
Since God is ever prefent, ever felt,

In the void wafte, as in the city full;

And, where he vital spreads, there must be joy.
When, even, at laft, the folemn hour fhall come,
And wing my myftic flight to future worlds,
I chearful, will obey. There, with new powers,
Will rifing wonders fing. I cannot go,
Where univerfal love not fmiles around;
Suftaining all yon orbs, and all their fons;
From feeming evil, ftill educing good;
And better thence again; and better still
In infinite progreffion-But I lofe
Myfelf in Hin, in light ineffable!
Come, then, expreffive Silence-mufe His praife.

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TOW, morn, her rofy fteps in th' eastern clime
Advancing, fow'd the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak'd: fo cuftom'd; for his fleep
Was airy light, from pure digeftion bred,
And temp❜rate vapours bland, which th' only found
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly difpers'd; and the fhrill matin fong
Of birds on every bough. So much the more
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve
With treffes difcompos'd, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet reft. He, on his fide
Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love,
Hung over her enamour'd; and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces. Then, with voice
Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus.-" Awake,

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"My faireft, my efpous'd, my latest found;
"Heav'n's laft best gift, my ever new delight,
"Awake!-The morning fhines, and the fresh field
"Calls us.
We lose the prime to mark how fpring
"Our tended plants; how blows the citron grove ;
"What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed ;
"How nature paints her colours; how the bee
"Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid fweet."

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folar blaze,

HEN, now, no more th'alternate twins are fir'd, And Cancer reddens with the Short is the doubtful empire of the night; And foon, obfervant of approaching day,




The meek-ey'd morn appears, mother of dews;
At first, faint-gleaming in the dappled east, NA
Till far o'er æther fpreads the widening glow,
And, from before the luftre of her face,gor
White break the clouds away. With quicken'd ftep,
Brown night retires. Young day pours in apace,
And opens all the lawny profpect wide.
The dripping rock, the mountain's mifty' top,
Swell on the fight, and brighten with the dawn."
Blue, thro' the dusk, the fuoaking currents fhine"
And, from the bladed field, the fearful hare
Limps, awkward; while, along the foreft-glade,
The wild deer trip, and, often turning, gaze

At early paffenger. Mufic awakes,

The native voice of undiffembled joy ;
And, thick, around the woodland, hymns arife.


Rous'd by the cock, the foon-clad fhepherd leaves
His moffy cottage, where with peace he dwells';:
And, from the crowded fold, in order, drives
His flock, to tafte the verdure of the morn.


FALSELY luxurious, will not man awake
And, fpringing from the bed of floth, enjoy
The cool, the fragrant, and the filent hour,
To meditation due and facred fong?

For, is there aught in fleep can charm the wife?
To lie in dead oblivion, lofing half
The fleeting moments of too fhort a life!
Total extinction of th' enlighten'd soul!
Or elfe, to feverish vanity alive,
Wilder'd, and toffing thro' diftemper'd dreams!
Who would, in fuch a gloomy fate, remain
Longer than nature craves? when every mufe,
And every blooming pleasure, wait without,
To bless the wildly-devious morning walk.

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BUT, yonder comes the powerful king of day, Rejoicing in the eaft. The leffening cloud, The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow Illum'd with fluid gold, his near approach Betoken glad. Lo! now, apparent all, Aflant the dew-bright earth, and colour'd air, He looks, in boundless majefty, abroad; And sheds the fhining day, that, burnish'd, plays On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering ftreams, High-gleaming from afar.-Prime chearer, light! Of all material beings, first and best ! Efflux divine! nature's refplendent robe ! Without whofe vefting beauty, all were wrapt In uneffential gloom; and thou, O fun! Soul of furrounding worlds! in whom, beft feen," Shines out thy maker-may I fing of thee?





'OW, came ftill evening on; and twilight gray, Had, in her fober livery, all things clad. Silence accompanied: for beaft and bird, They to their graffy couch, these to their nefts, Were flunk; all, but the wakeful nightingale. She, all night long, her amorous descant fung. Silence was pleas'd.-Now, glow'd the firmament With living fapphires. Hefperus, that led The ftarry hoft, rode brightest; till the moon, Rifing in clouded majefty, at length, Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, And, o'er the dark, her filver mantle threw.

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IGHT, fable goddefs! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now, ftretches forth Her leaden fceptre, o'er a flumb'ring world. Silence, how dead and darknefs, how profound! Nor eye, nor lift'ning ear, an object finds. Creation fleeps. 'Tis as the gen'ral pulfe Of life stood still, and nature made a pause, An awful pause, prophetic of her end.

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