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He leaves the fens, and leaps upon the ground,
And hiffing rolls his glaring eyes around.
With thirst inflam'd, impatient of the heats,
He rages in the fields, and wide deftruction

threats.

O! let not fleep my clofing eyes invade
In open plains, or in the fecret fhade,
When he, renew'd in all the fpeckled pride
Of pompous youth, has caft his flough afide,
And in his fummer liv'ry rolls along,
Erect, and brandishing his forky tongue,
Leaving his neft and his imperfect young ;
And, thoughtless of his eggs, forgets to rear
The hopes of poifon for the coming year.

DRYDEN'S VIRGIL.

CONTENT.

How clad with fmiles the vernal morn!
How gay the bloom-befpangled thorn!
The lark is up, the welkin rings,
And with his flock the fhepherd fings:
O! let my days with his be spent,
In rural fhades with mild content,

The Summer Evening Walk.

The blackbird warbles on the bough,
The milkmaid fings beneath her cow;
The mower, up with early dawn,
Prepares to fleece the clover'd lawn;
The farmer views his blooming wheat,
And starts the lev'ret from her feat;
Whilft I this lonely vale frequent,
To mufe the praises of content.,

Pleas'd with my little flock of sheep
That on my native downs I keep,
Mine are the joys of peace and health,
And fure I want no greater wealth:
No vain defires my foul infeft,
Nor dwells ambition in my breaft:
Heaven, all fuch follies to prevent,
Tamed all my thoughts to foft content.

69

WILLIAMS

THE SUMMER EVENING WALK.

WHEN day declining sheds a milder gleam, What time the may-fly haunts the pool or ftream;

When

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The Summer Evening Walk.

When the still owl fkims round the graffy me ad,
What time the tim'rous hare limps forth to feed;
Then be the time to fteal adown the vale,
And liften to the vagrant cuckoo's tale;
To hear the clam'rous curlew call his mate,
Or the foft quail his tender pain relate;
To fee the swallow fweep the dark'ning plain
Belated, to fupport her infant train ;

To mark the fwift in rapid giddy ring
Dash round the fteeple, unfubdued of wing
Amufive birds! fay where your hid retreat
When the froft rages and the tempests beat?
Whence your return, by fuch nice inftinct led,
When spring, soft season, lifts her bloomy head?
Such baffled fearches mock man's prying pride:
The God of nature is your fecret guide.

While deep'ning fhades obfcure the face of day,
To yonder bench, leaf-shelter'd, let us stray,
Till blended objects fail the swimming fight,
And all the fading landscape finks in night;
To hear the drowfy dor come brufhing by,
With buzzing wing, or the fhrill cricket cry;

Το

Recovery from Sickness.

71

To fee the feeding bat glance thro' the wood;
To catch the diftant falling of the flood;
While o'er the cliff th' awaken'd churn owl hung
Thro' the still gloom protracts his chatt'ring fong;
While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings,
Unseen, the foft enamour'd woodlark fings:
Each rural fight, each found, each fmell, combine,
The tinkling fheep-bell or the breath of kine;
The new-mown hay that fcents the fwelling
breeze,

Or cottage chimney fmoking thro' the trees.

RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS.

SEE the wretch that long has toft,

On the thorny bed of pain,
At length repair his vigour loft,
And breathe, and walk again :

The meanest flow'net of the vale,
The fimpleft note that swells the gale,
The common fun, the air, the skies,

To him are op'ning paradise.

WHITE,

GRAI

72

The Whirlwind,-To Leven Water.

THE WHIRLWIND.

WHEN forth from gloomy clouds a whirlwind fprings,

That bears the thunder on its dreadful wings, Wide o'er the blafted fields the tempeft sweeps, Then, gather'd, fettles on the hoary deeps; Th' afflicted deeps tumultuous mix and roar ; The waves behind impel the waves before, Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore.

DRYDEN,

TO LEVEN WATER.

PURE ftream! in whofe tranfparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents stain thy limpid fource;
No rocks impede thy dimpling course,
That fweetly warbles o'er its bed,

With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread ;

While, lightly pois'd, the fcaly brood
In myriads cleave thy cryftal flood;

The

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