Of scatters o'er the blooms the pungent dust
Of pepper, fatal to the frosty tribe:
Or, when th' envenom'd leaf begins to curl,
With sprinkled water drowns them in their neft;
Nor, while they pick them up with busy bill,
The little trooping birds unwifely fcares.
Be patient, fwains; thefe cruel-feeming winds
Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep reprefs'd
Thofe deepening clouds on clouds, furcharg'd with rain, That, o'er the vast Atlantic hither borne,
In endless train, would quench the fummer-blaze, 140 And, chearlefs, drown the crude unripened year.
The north-east spends his rage; he now fhut up
Within his iron cave, th' effufive fouth
Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven
Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers diftent.
At first a dusky wreath they seem to rife,
Scarce ftaining æther; but by fwift degrees,
In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour fails
Along the loaded fky, and mingling deep
Sits on th' horizon round a fettled gloom :
Not fuch as wintery-storms on mortals shed,
Oppreffing life; but lovely, gentle, kind,
And full of every hope and every joy,
The wifh of Nature. Gradual finks the breeze
Into a perfect calm; that not a breath
Is heard to quiver through the clofing woods,
Or ruftling turn the many twinkling leaves
Of afpin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus'd
In glaily breadth, feem through delufive lapfe
Forgetful of their course. 'Tis filence all,
And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks
Drop the dry sprig, and mute-imploring eye
The falling verdure. Hufh'd in short suspense,
The plumy people streak their wings with oil,
To throw the lucid moisture trickling off;
And wait th' approaching fign to strike, at once,
Into the general choir. Ev'n mountains, vales,
And forests seem, impatient, to demand
The promis'd sweetness. Man fuperior walks
Amid the glad creation, mufing praise,
And looking lively gratitude. At last,
The clouds confign their treasures to the fields;
And, foftly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelufive drops, let all their moisture flow,
In large effufion, o'er the freshen'd world.
The ftealing shower is scarce to patter heard,
By fuch as wander through the forest walks,
Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.
But who can hold the fhade, while Heaven defcends
In univerfal bounty, shedding herbs,
And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap?
Swift fancy fir'd anticipates their growth;
And, while the milky nutriment distils,
Beholds the kindling country colour round.
Thus all day long the full-distended clouds
Indulge their genial ftores, and well-fhower'd earth
Is deep-enrich'd with vegetable life;
Till, in the western fky, the downward fun
Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush
Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam.
The rapid radiance inftantaneous strikes
Th' illumin'd mountain, through the forest streams,
Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mift,
Far fmoaking o'er th' interminable plain,
In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems.
Moist, bright, and green, the landskip laughs around.
Full fwell the woods; their very mufic wakes,
Mix'd in wild concert with the warbling brooks
Increas'd, the distant bleatings of the hills,
And hollow lows refponfive from the vales,
Whence blending all the sweeten'd zephyr springs.
Mean time refracted from yon eastern cloud,
Beftriding earth, the grand ethereal bow
Shoots up immenfe ; and every hue unfolds,
In fair proportion running from the red,
To where the violet fades into the sky.
Here, awful Newton, the dissolving clouds
Form, fronting on the fun, thy fhowery prifm;
And to the fage-instructed eye unfold
The various twine of light, by thee disclos'd
From the white mingling maze. Not fo the boy;
He wondering views the bright enchantment bend,
Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs
To catch the falling glory; but amaz'd
Beholds th' amusive arch before him fly,
Then vanish quite away. Still night fucceeds,
A foften'd fhade, and faturated earth
Awaits the morning-beam, to give to light,
Rais'd through ten thousand different plastick tubes,
The balmy treasures of the former day.
Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild, O'er all the deep-green earth, beyond the power Of botanifts to number up their tribes : Whether he steals along the lonely dale,
In filent search; or through the foreft, rank
With what the dull incurious weeds account,
Burfts his blind way; or climbs the mountain rock, Fir'd by the nodding verdure of its brow.
With fuch a liberal hand has Nature flung
Their feeds abroad, blown them about in winds, 230
Innumerous mix'd them with the nurfing mold,
The moistening current, and prolific rain.
But who their virtues can declare? who pierce,
With vifion pure, into these secret stores,
Of health, and life, and joy? The food of man, 235
While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told
A length of golden years; unflesh'd in blood,
A ftranger to the favage arts of life,
Death, rapine, carnage, furfeit, and difeafe;
The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world.
The first fresh dawn then wak'd the gladden'd race Of uncorrupted man, nor blush'd to fee
The fluggard fleep beneath its facred beam :
For their light flumbers gently fum'd away;
And up they rofe as vigorous as the fun,
Or to the culture of the willing glebe,
Or to the chearful tendance of the flock.
Meantime the fong went round; and dance and sport,
Wisdom and friendly talk, fucceffive, ftole
Their hours away; while in the rofy vale
Love breath'd his infant fighs, from anguish free,
And full replete with blifs; fave the sweet pain,
That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more.
Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed,
Was known among those happy fons of Heaven;
For reafon and benevolence were law.
Harmonious Nature too look'd finiling on.
Clear fhone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales,
And balmy spirit all. The youthful fun
Shot his best rays, and ftill the gracious clouds
Drop'd fatnefs down; as o'er the swelling mead,
The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure.
This when, emergent from the gloomy wood,
The glaring lion faw, his horrid heart
Was meeken'd, and he join'd his fullen joy.
For mufic held the whole in perfect peace :
Soft figh'd the flute; the tender voice was heard,
Warbling the varied heart; the woodlands round
Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flow'd
In confonance. Such were thofe prime of days.
But now thofe white unblemish'd manners, whence The fabling poets took their golden age, Are found no more amid thefe iron times, Thefe dregs of life! Now the distemper'd mind Has loft that concord of harmonious powers, Which forms the foul of happiness; and all Is off the poife within: the paffions all Have burst their bounds; and reason, half extinct, Or impotent, or elfe approving, fees
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