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And woods impervious to the breeze,
Thick phalanx of embodied trees,
From hills through plains in dusk array
Extended far, repel the day.
Here stilness, height, and folemn shade
Invite, and contemplation aid :
Here nymphs from hollow oaks relate
The dark decrees and will of Fate,
And dreams beneath the spreading beech
Inspire, and docile Fancy teach ;
While soft as breezy breath of wind
Impulses rustle through the mind :
Here Dryads, scorning Phæbus' ray,
While Pan melodious pipes away,
In measur'd motions frisk about,
Till old Silenus puts them out.
There see the clorer, pea, and bean,
Vie in variety of green ;
Fresh pastures fpeckled o'er with sheep,
Brown fields their fallow fabbaths keep,
Plump Ceres golden tresses wear,
And poppy top-knots deck her hair,
And silver streams through meadows stray,
And Naiads on the margin play,
And lesser nymphs on side of hills
From play-thing urns pour down the rills.

Thus shelter'd, free from care and strife,
May I enjoy a calm through life;
See faction, fafe in low degree,
As men at land see storms at sea,
And laugh at miserable elves,
Not kind, so much as to themselves,

Curs'd

2

Curs'd with such souls of base alloy,
As can poffefs but not enjoy ;
Debarr'd the pleasure to impart
By Av'rice, sphincter of the heart,
Who wealth, hard earn'd by guilty cares,
Bequeath untouch'd to thankless heirs.
May I, with look ungloom'd by Guile,
And wearing Virtue's liv'ry smile,
Prone the distressed to relieve,
And little trespasses forgive,
With income not in Fortune's pow'r,
And kill to make a busy hour,
With trips to town, life to amuse,
To purchase books, and hear the news,
To see old friends, brush off the clown,
And quicken Tafte at coming down.
Unhurt by Sickness' blasting rage,
And slowly mellowing into age,
When Fate extends its gathering gripe,
Fall off like fruit grown fully ripe ;
Quit a worn being without pain,
In hope to blossom foon again.

GREEN.

CHAP. VII.

GRONGAR HILL.

Silent nymph, with curious eye !

Who, the purple'ev'ning, lie,
On the mountain's lonely van
Beyond the noise of busy man,
Painting fair the form of things,
While the yellow linnet fings;

N.

Or

Or the tuneful nightingale
Charms the forest with her tale ;
Come with all thy various hues,
Come and aid thy lifter muse :
Now while Phæbus riding high
Gives lustre to the land and sy !
Grongar hill invites my song,
Draw the landscape bright and strong ;
Grongar, in whose mofly cells
Sweetly-musing Quiet dwells;
Grongar, in whose filent shade,
For the modest Muses made,
So oft I have, the evening ftill,
At the fountain of a rill,
Sat upon a flow'ry bed,
With

my

hand beneath my head ;
While stray'd my eyes o'er Towy's flood,
Over mead, and over wood,
From house to house, from hill to hill,
Till Contemplation had her fill.

About his chequer'd fides I wind
And leave his brooks and meads behind.
And groves and grottoes where I lay.
And viftoes shooting beams of day;
Wide and wider spreads the vale ;
- As circles on a smooth canal;
The mountains round, unhappy fate!
Sooner or later of all height !
Withdraw their summits from the skies,
And lessen as the others rise;
Still the prospect wider spreads,
Adds a thousand woods and meads,

And

Still it widens, widens still,
And finks the newly risen hill.

Now I gain the mountain's brow;
What a landscape lies below!
No clouds, no vapours intervene,
But the

gay
the
open

scene
Does the face of Nature show,
In all the hues of heav'n's bow !
And, swelling to embrace the light,
Spreads around beneath the fight.
Old castles on the cliffs arise,
Proudly tow'ring in the skies !
Rushing from the woods, the spires
Seem from hence ascending fires !
Half his beams Apollo sheds
On the yellow mountain-heads!
Gilds the fleeces of the flocks,
And glitters on the broken rocks !

Below me trees unnumber'd rise,
Beautiful in various dyes:
The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,
The yellow beech, the fable yew,
The slender fir, that taper grows,
The Aturdy oak, with broad-spread boughs;
And beyond, the purple grove,
Haunt of Phillis, queen of Love !
Gaudy as the op’ning dawn,
Lies a long and level lawn,
On which a dark hill, steep and high,
Holds and charms the wand'ring eye;
Deep are his feet in Towy's flood,
His fides are cloth'd with waving wood,

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Whore

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And ancient towers crown his brow,
That caft an awful look below;
Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps ;
And with her arms from falling keeps;
So both a safety from the wind
One mutual dependence find.

'Tis now the raven's bleak abode;
'Tis now th' apartment of the toad;
And there the fox securely feeds;
And there the pois’nous adder breeds,
Conceal'd in ruins, moss, and weeds:
While, ever and anon, there falls
Huge heaps of hoary noulder'd walls.
Yet time has been, that lifts the low,
And level lays the lofty brow,
Has seen this broken pile complete
Big with the vanity of state;
But transient is the smile of Fate;
A little rule, a little sway,
A fun-beam in a winter's day,
Is all the proud and mighty have
Between the cradle and the grave.

And, see! the rivers how they run,
Through woods and meads, in shade and fun,
Sometimes swift, sometimes flow,
Wave fucceeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life to endless sleep!
Thus is Nature's vesture wrought,
To instruct our wand'ring thought;
Thus the dresses green and gay,
To disperse our cares away.

The

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