Not sordid souls of earthly mould,
Who, drawn by kindred charms of gold,
To dull embraces move:
So two rich mountains of Peru
May rush to wealthy marriage too,
And make a world of love.
Not the mad tribe, that Hell inspires
With wanton flames; those raging fires
The purer bliss destroy;
On Etna's top let furies wed,
And sheets of lightning dress the bed,
T'improve the burning joy.
Nor the dull pairs, whose marble forms
None of the melting passions warms,
Can mingle hearts and hands;
Logs of green wood, that quench the coals,
Are married just like stoic souls,
With osiers for their bands.
Not minds of melancholy strain,
Still silent, or that still complain,
Can the dear bondage bless:
As well may heavenly concerts spring
From two old lutes with ne'er a string,
Or none beside the bass.
Nor can the soft enchantments hold
Two jarring souls of angry mould,
The rugged and the keen:
Sampson's young foxes might as well
In bonds of cheerful wedlock dwell,
With firebrands tied between.
Nor let the cruel fetters bind
A gentle to a savage mind;
For love abhors the sight:
Loose the fierce tiger from the deer,
For native rage and native fear
Rise and forbid delight.
Two kindest souls alone must meet,
"Tis friendship makes the bondage sweet, And feeds their mutual loves.
Bright Venus on her rolling throne,
Is drawn by gentlest birds alone,
And Cupids yoke the doves.
THE FIRST HOUSEWIFE.
So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent What choice to choose for delicacy best, What order so contriv'd as not to mix Tastes not well join'd, inelegant, but bring Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change: Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk Whatever Earth, all bearing mother, yields In India East or West, or middle shore In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, She gathers, tribute large, and on the board Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the grape She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold Wants her fit vessels pure; then strows the ground With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd. MILTON.
Ан, gentle shepherd! thine the lot to tend, Of all that feel distress, the most assail'd,Feeble,-defenceless. Lenient be thy care: But spread around thy tend'rest diligence In flow'ry spring time, when the new dropp'd lamb,
Tott'ring with weakness by his mother's side, Feels the fresh world about him, and each thorn, Hillock, or furrow, trips his feeble feet.
O! guard his meek, sweet innocence from all
Th' innum'rous ills, that rush around his life.
Mark the quick kite, with beak and talons prone,
Circling the skies, to snatch him from the plain.
Observe the lurking crows. Beware the brake;
There the sly fox the careless minute waits.
Nor trust thy neighbour's dogs, nor earth, nor sky.
Thy bosom to a thousand cares divide.
Eurus oft flings his hail: the tardy fields
Pay not their promis'd food: and oft the dam
O'er her weak twins with empty udder mourns,
Or fails to guard when the bold bird of prey
Alights, and hops, in many turns around,
And tires her, also turning. To her aid
Be nimble and the weakest, in thine arms,
Gently, convey to the warm cot; and oft,
Between the lark's note and the nightingale's,
His hungry bleating still with tepid milk:
In this soft office may thy children join,
And charitable habits learn in sport.
SHEEP-WASHING.
-Ir verdant elder spreads
Her silver flow'rs; if humble daisies yield
To yellow crow-foot and luxuriant grass,
Gay shearing-time approaches. First, howe'er,
Drive to the double fold, upon the brim
Of a clear river; gently drive the flock,
And plunge them one by one into the flood:
Plung'd in the flood, not long the struggler sinks,
With his white flakes that glisten through the tide :
The sturdy rustic, in the middle wave,
Awaits to seize him rising: one arm bears
His lifted head above the limpid stream,-
While the full clammy fleece the other laves
Around, laborious, with repeated toil;
And then resigns him to the sunny bank,
Where, bleating loud, he shakes his dripping locks.
-IN green vales, amid her mountains bleak, Buxtonia smiles, the goddess-nymph of Peak; Deep in warm waves, and pebbly bath she dwells, And calls Hygeia to her sainted wells.
Hither in sportive bands bright Devon leads
Graces and Loves from Chatsworth's flow'ry meads.-
Charm'd round the nymph, they climb the rifted rocks;
And steep in mountain-mist their golden locks;
On vent'rous step her sparry caves explore,
And light with radiant eyes her realms of ore.
-Oft by her bubbling founts and shadowy domes,
In gay undress the fairy legion roams,
Their dripping palms in playful malice fill,
Or taste with ruby lip the sparkling rill;
Crowd round her baths, and, bending o'er the side,
Unclasp'd their sandals, and their zones untied,
Dip with gay fear the shudd'ring foot undress'd,
And quick retract it to the fringed vest;
Or cleave with brandish'd arms the lucid stream,
And sob, their blue eyes twinkling in the steam.
-High o'er the chequer'd vault with transient glow
Bright lustres dart, as dash the waves below ;
And Echo's sweet responsive voice prolongs
The dulcet tumult of their silver tongues.—
O'er their flush'd cheeks uncurling tresses flow,
And dewdrops glitter on the necks of snow;
Round each fair nymph her dropping mantle clings,
And Loves emerging shake their show'ry wings.
DARWIN'S BOTANIC GARDEN.
ELEGY ON REVISITING THE SCENES OF
EARLY LIFE.
HAIL, loveliest scene these eyes have e'er survey'd!
Where my gay childhood innocently grew :
Where oft my feet with truant pastime play'd,
And my warm youth life's freshest pleasures knew!
Roll back, ye hasty suns, and bring again
Those days of gold; then stand forever still!
Ere through my frame had pierc'd the shaft of Pain ;
Ere my warm spirits Care had learn'd to chill.
Delightful Hope! gay, laughing prophetess!
The flatt'ring painter of Futurity!
That told'st me I should feel unmingled bliss;
Come, tell me o'er again the charming lie!
Repeat that tale I heard of days to come;
All rich with bright impossibilities!
Walks always smooth, and flow'rs of lasting bloom,
And thornless roses, and unclouded skies!
Return that health, which bloom'd without my care; Came uninvok'd, and, though neglected, staid: Which ask'd nor lenient herb, nor fount, nor air, Contemn'd all danger, and despis'd all aid. Again, my bosom glow as then it glow'd;
When round I look'd, and felt that all was fair; When high on Rapture's eagle-wing I rode; Tow'r'd to the sun, and spurn'd the clouds of care! Those slumbers sound again my senses bind, That made but one sweet instant all my night; That heard nor barking cur, nor howling wind, Nor Time's deep, solemn toll proclaim his flight. And, O the fervours, Heav'n, renew, that ran
Through my young nerves (sensation all divine!) Ere broke that golden dream, which show'd me man Not fairer in his form than pure within.
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