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But thou, O nymph, retir'd and coy
In what brown hamlet dost thou joy
To tell thy tender tale ?
The lowliest children of the ground,
Moss rose and violet blossom round,
And lily of the vale.
O say what soft propitious hour
I best may choose to bail thy power,
And court thy gentle sway!
When autumn, friendly to the muse,
Shall thy own modest tinis diffuse,
And shed thy milder day?
When Eve, her dewy star beneath,
Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,
And every storm is laid ?
If such an hour was e'er thay choice,
Oft let me hear thy soothing voice,
Low whisp'ring through the shade,
The shepherd and the philosopher.
REMOTE from cities liv'd a swain,
Unvex'd with all the cares of gain;
His head was silver'd o'er with age,
And long experience made him sage;
In summer's heat and winter's cold,
He fed his flock and penn'd the fold;
His bours in cheertul labour iew,
Nor envy por ambition knew :
His wisdom and his honest-fame,
Through all the country raised his name.
A deep philosopher (whose rules
Of moral life were drawn from schods)
The shepherd's homely cottage soughto
And thus explor'd his reach of thought,
"Whence is thy learning ? Hall thy toil
O'er books consum'd the midnight oil ?
Hast thou old Greece and Rome survey'd,
And the vast sense of Piato weigb'd ?
Hath Socrates thy soul refin'd ?
And hast thou tathom'd Tully's mind ?
Or, like the wise Ulysses, thrown,
By various fates, on realms unknown,
Hast thou through many cities stray'd,
Cheir customs, laws, and manners weigh'a w
The shepherd modesly replied,
"I n'er the paths of learning tried ;
For have I roam'd in foreign parte,
To read mankind, their laws and arts ;
For man is practis'd in disguise,
He cheats the most discerning eyes.
Who by that search shall wiser grow ?
By that ourselves we never know.
The little knowledge I have gain'd,
Was all from simple nature drain'd :
Hence my life's maxims took their rise,
Hence grew my settled bate to vice.
The daily labours of the bee
Awake my soul to industry.
Who can observe the careful ant,
And not provide for future want ?
My dog (the trustiest of his kind)
With gratitude inflames my mind ;
I mark his true, his faithful way,
And in my service copy Tray.
In constancy and nuptial love,
I learn my duty from the doye.
The hen, who from the chilly air,
With pious wing protects her care,
And ev'ry towl that flies at large,
Instructs me in a parent's charge.
"From nature too I take my rule,
To shun contempt and ridicule.
I never, with important air,
In conversation overbear.
Can grave and formal pass for wise,
When men the solemn owl despise ?
My tongue within my lips I rein ;
For who talks much must talk in vain.
We from the wordy torrent fly :
Who listens to the chatt'ring pye?
Nor would I, with felonious flight,
By stealth invade my neighbour's right :
Rapacious animals we hate ;
Kites, hawks, and wolves, deserve their fate
Do not we just abhorrence find
Against the toad and serpent kind ;
But envy, calumny, and spite,
Bear stronger venom in their bite,
Thus ey'ry object of creation
Can furnish hints to contemplation ;
And, from the most minute and meani,
A virtuous mind can morals glean.
Thy fame is just,” the sage replies, *Thy virtue proves thee truly wise. Pride often guides the author's ped, Books as affected are as men :
But he who studies nature's laws,
From certain truth his maxims draws ;
And those, without our schools, guffice
To make men moral, good, and wise."
The road to happiness open to all men.
Or happiness ! our being's end and aim ;
Good, pleasure, ease, content! wbate'er thy name ;
That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die ;
Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies,
O'erlook'd seen double, by the fool and wise ;
Plant of celestial seed, if dropt below,
Say in what mortal soil thou Jeign’st to grow ?
Fair op'ning to some court's propitious shine,
Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine?
Twin'd with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield,
Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field !
Where grows ? where grows it not ? if vain our toil,
We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
Fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere ;
'Tis no where to be found, or evóry where ;
Tis never to be bought, but always free ;
And, fled from monarchs, St. John ! dwells with thee.
Ask of the learnód the way. The learnód are blind;
This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind.
Some place the bliss in action, some in easc ;
Those call it pleasure, and contentment these."
Some sunk to beasts, fmd pleasure end in pain ;
Some swelld to gods, confess c'en virtue vain :
Or indolent, to each extreme they fall,
To trust in evóry thing, or doubt of all.
Who thus define it, say they more or less
Than this, that happiness is happiness ?
Take nature's path, and mad opinion's leave ;
All states can reach it, and all heads conceive :
Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell;
There needs but thinking right, and meaning well,
And mourn our various portions, as we please,
Equal is common sense, and common ease,
Remember, man; "the universal cause
Acts not by partial, but by genéral laws ;'
And makes wbat happiness we justsly call
Subsist not in the good of one, but alla
The goodness of Providencé.
The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And teed me with a shepherd's care ;
His presence shall my wants supply,
Aad guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I taipt,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,
To fertile vales, and dewy meads,
My weary wand'ring steps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow..
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
Tho' in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill;
For thou, O Lord, art with we still :
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Tho'in a bare and rugged way
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile;
The barreo wilderness shall stuile,
With sudded greens and herbage crown'd, ·
And streams shall murmur all around,
The Creator's works attest his greatness.
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame,
Their grea: Original proclaim :
Th’un wearied suo, from day to day,
Does bis Creator's pow'r display;
And publishes to ep'ry land,
The work of an Almighty hand,
Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail,
The moon takes ap the wondrous tale ;
And, nightly, to the list'oing earth,
Repeats the story of her birth :
Whilst 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 solemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball!
What thonor real voice por sound,
Amid their radiant orbs be found !
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice ;
For ever singing as they shine,
"The hand that made us is Divine," ADDISON.
An address to the Deity. O THOU! whose balance does the mountaios weigh; Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey; Whose breath cao turn those wat’ry worlds to flame, That flame to tempest, and that tempest tame; Earth's meanest son, all trembling, postrate falls, And on the boundless of thy goodness calls.
O! give the winds all past offence to sweep; To scatter wide, or bury in the deep. Thy pow'r, my weakness, may I ever see, And wholly dedicate my soul to thee. Reign o'er my will; my passions ebb and flow At thy command, oor human motive know! If anger boil, let anger be my praise, And sin the graceful indignation raise. My love be warmeto suecor the distress’d, And lift the burden from the soul oppress'd. O may my understanding ever read This glorious volume which thy wisdom made! May sea, and land, and earth, and heav'n be join'd, To bring the eternal Author to my mind! When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll, May thoughts of thy dread vengeance shake my soul! When earth's in bloom, or planets proudly shine, Adore, my heart, the Majesty divine !
Grant I may ever at the morning ray,