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An annual guest, in other lands,

Another spring to hail.
Sweet bird ! thy bow'r is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou halt no forrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year!
O could I fy, I'd fly with thee :

We'd make, with social wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the Spring.

SECTION XIX.
Day. A Pastoral in Three Parts.

LOGAN

MORNING.

In the barn the tenant cock,

Close to Partlet perch'd on high, Briskly crows (the shepherd's clock !)

Jocund that the morning's nigh. Swiftly from the mountain's brow,

Shadows, nurs'd by night, retire ; And the peeping funbeam, now,

Paints with gold the village spire. Philomel forfakes the thorn,

Plaintive where she prates at night; And the lark, to meet the morn,

Soars beyond the faepherd's fight. From the low-roof'd cottage ridge,

See the chatt'ring fwallow spring; Darting through the one-arch'd bridge,

Quick the dips her dappled wing. Now the pine tree's waving top

Gently greets the morning gale ;
Kidlings, now, begin to crop

Dailies on the dewy dale.
From the balmy sweets, uncloy'd,

(Restless till her talk be done,) Now the busy bee's employ'd,

Sipping dew before the fun. Trickling through the crevic'd rock,

Where the limpid Aream diltils, Sweet refreshment waits the flock,

When 'tis fun-drove from the hills."

Colin's for the promis'd corn

(Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) Anxious ; while the huntsman's horn,

Boldly founding, drowns his pipe.
Sweet; O sweet, the warbling throng,

On the white emblossom'd spray !
Nature's universal song

Echoes to the rising day.

NOON.

1

Fervid on the glittring flood,

Now the noontide radiance glows ;
Drooping o'er its infant bud,

Not a dew-drop's left the rose.
By the brook the shepherd dines,

Froin the fierce meridian heat,
Shelter'd by the branching pines,

Pendant o'er his grassy Yeat.
Now the flock forsakes the glade,

Where uncheck'd the sunbeams fall,
Sure to find a pleasing lhade

By the ivy'd abbey wall.
Echo, in her airy round,

O'er the river, rock and hill,
Cannot catch a single sound,

Save the clack of yonder mill.
Cattle court the zephyr's bland,

Where the streamlet wanders cool ;
Or with languid filence stand

Midway in the marshy pool.
But from mountain, dell, or stream,

Not a flutt'ring zephyr springs;
Fearful left the noontide beam

Scorch its soft, its filken wings.
Not a leaf has leave to stir,

Nature's lull’d, serene, and still !
Quiet e'en the shepherd's cur,

Sleeping on the heath.clad hill.
Languid is the landscape round,

Till the fresh descending show'r,
Grateful to the thirsty ground,

Raises ev'ry fainting flow'r.

Now the hill, the hedge, are green,

Now the warblers throats in tune ; Blithsome is the verdant scene,

Brighten'd by the beams of Noon !

EVENING.

O'ER the heath the heifer strays

Free-(the furrow'd talk is done ;) Now the village windows blaze,

Burnith'd by the setting fun. Now he fets behind the hill,

Sinking from a golden fky : Can the pencil's mimic skill

Copy the refulgent dye? Trudging as the ploughmen go,

(To the smoking hamlet bound,) Giant-like their shadows grow,

Lengthen'd o'er the level ground. Where the rising forest spreads

Shelter for the lordly dome ! To their high-built airy beds,

See the rooks returuing home! As the lark, with vary'd tune,

Carols to the ev'ning loud ; Mark the mild resplendent mooo,

Breaking through a parted cloud! Now the hermit howlet peeps

From the barn or twisted brake ; And the blue milt flowly creeps,

Curling on the filver lake. As the trout in speckled pride,

Playful from its bosom fprings ; To the banks a ruffled tide

Verges in successive rings. Tripping through the filken grass

O'er the path-divided dale, Mark the role-complexion's lass

With her well-poil'd milking pail ! Linnets with unnunber'd notes,

And the cuckoo bird with two, Tuning sweet their mellow throats, Bid the setting fun adieu.

CUNNINGHAM

SECTION XX.

The Order of Nature. See, thro' this air, this ocean, and this eartha All matter quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high progreffive life may go ! Around, how wide ! how deep extend below!. Valt chain of being ! which from God began, Nature etherial, human, angel, man ; Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach; from infinite to thee, From thee to nothing. On superior powers Were we to press, inferior might on ours; Or in the full creation leave a void, Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroy'd ; From nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike

And, if each system in gradation roll,
Alike effential to th' amazing whole,
The least confusion but in one, not all
That system only, but the whole must fall.
Let earth, unbalanc'd from her orbit fly,
Planets, and suns run lawless thro' the sky ;
Let ruling angels from their fpheres be hurl'd,
Being on being wreck’d, and world on world ;
Heaven's whole foundations to their centre nod,
And nature tremble to the throne of God
All this dread ORDER break--for whom ? for thee
Vile worm ! Oh madness ! pride ! impiety!

What if the foot, ordain'd the dust to tread,
Or hand, to toil, aspir'd to be the head ?
What if the head, the eye, or ear, repin'd
To serve mere engines to the ruling mind ?
Just as absurd for any part to claim
To be another, in this general frame :
Just as absurd, to mourn the tabs or pains,
The great directing MIND OF ALL ordains

All are but parts of one stupendous white,
Whose body nature is, and God the foal :
That, chang'd thro? all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth, as in th? etherial frame ; .
Warms in the fun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees
Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unspent ;

Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart ;
As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns,
As he rapt seraph that adores and burns ;
no no

;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals aíi.t

Cease than, nor ORDER imperfection name ; Our

proper bliss depends on what we blame.
Know thy own point : this kind, this due degree
Of blindness, weakness, Heaven bestows on thee.
Submit- In this, or any other fphere,
Secure to be as bleft as thou canst bear :
Safe in the hand of one disposing Power,
Or in the natal, or the mortal hour.
All nature is but art, unknown to thee ;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not fee ;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good :
And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason's fpite,
One truth is clear, WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT, POPE,

SECTION XXI.
Confidence in Divine Protection.
How are thy servants bleft, O Lord !

How fure is their defence !
Eternal Wisdom is their guide,

Their help Omnipotence.
In foreign realms, and lands remote,

Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes 1 pafs'd unhurt,

And breath'd in tainted air.
Thy mercy sweeten'd every foil,

Made every region please ;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm’d,

And smooth'd the Tyrrhene seas.
Think, O my soul, devoutly think,

How, with affrighted eyes,
Thousaw'st the wide extended deep

In all its horrors rise !
Confusion dwelt in every face,

And fear in every heart,
When waves on waves, and gulfs in gulfs,

O'ercame the pilot's art.
Yet then, from all my griefs, O Lord,

Thy mercy set me free ;

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