Man in society is like a flow'r Blown in its native bed; 'tis there alone 660 His faculties, expanded in full bloom, Shine out; there only reach their proper use. But man, associated and leagued with man By regal warrant or self-join'd by bond 665 Like flow'rs selected from the rest, and bound And bundled close to fill some crowded vase, Contracts defilement not to be endur'd. 670 Hence charter'd boroughs are such publick plagues In all their private functions, once combin❜d, Become a loathsome body, only fit 675 For dissolution, hurtful to the main. 680 Build factories with blood, conducting trade At the sword's point, and dying the white robe ' Hence, too, the field of glory, as the world Misdeems it, dazzled by its bright array, 685 With all its majesty of thund'ring pomp, Is but a school, where thoughtlessness is taught For folly, gallantry for ev'ry vice. 690 But slighted as it is, and by the great Abandon'd, and, which still I more regret, Infected with the manners and the modes It knew not once, the country wins me still. 695 But there I laid the scene. There early stray'd My fancy, ere yet liberty of choice Had found me, or the hope of being free. My very dreams were rural; rural too 700 The first-born efforts of my youthful muse, Ere yet her ear was mistress of their pow'rs. No bard could please me but whose lyre was tun'd 705 Of Tityrus, assembling, as he sang, The rustick throng beneath his fav'rite beech. New to my taste, his Paradise surpass'd 710 To speak its excellence. I danc'd for joy. As twice seven years, his beauties had then first 715 And still admiring, with regret suppos'd The joy half lost, because not sooner found. Determin'd and possessing it at last, 720 With transports such as favour'd lovers feel, I studied, priz'd, and wish'd that I had known, Ingenious Cowley! and, though now reclaim'd 725 By modern lights from an erroneous taste, I cannot but lament thy splendid wit Though stretch'd at case in Chertsey's silent bow'rs, For a lost world in solitude and verse. "Tis born with all: the love of Nature's works Is an ingredient in the compound man, Infus'd at the creation of the kind. And, though th' Almighty Maker has throughout 730 Discriminated each from each, by strokes 735 And all can taste them: minds that have been form'd And tutor'd with a relish more exact, 741 But none without some relish, none unmov'd. It is a flame that dies not even there, Where nothing feeds it; neither business, crowds, t 745 The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer The citizen, and brace his languid frame! A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms 755 760 Though sickly samples of th' exub'rant whole. What are the casements lin'd with creeping herbs, Of orange, myrtle, or the fragrant weed, The Frenchman's darling?* are they not all proofs, And they that never pass their brick-wall bounds, *Magnionette. To range the fields, and treat their lungs with air, Hail, therefore, patroness of health and ease, 775 780 785 790 He gives a tongue to enlarge upon, a heart 795 To artists ingenuity and skill; To me, an unambitious mind, content In the low vale of life, that early felt A wish for ease and leisure, and ere long 800 VOL. II.-9 THE TASK. BOOK V. THE WINTER MORNING WALK. ARGUMENT OF THE FIFTH BOOK. A frosty morning-The foddering of cattle-The woodman and his dog-The poultry-Whimsical effects of a frost at a waterfall-The empress of Russia's palace of ice-Amusement of monarchs-War, one of them-Wars, whence-And whence monarchy-The evils of it-English and French loyalty contrasted-The Bastile, and a prisoner there-Liberty the chief recommendation of this country-Modern patriotism questionable, and why-The perishable nature of the best human institutions-Spiritual liberty not perishable- The slavish state of man by nature-Deliver him, Deist, if you can-Grace must do it--The respective merits of patriots and martyrs stated-Their different treatment--Happy freedom of the man whom grace makes free--His relish of the works of God -Address to the Creator. 'TIS morning; and the sun with ruddy orb Seen through the leafless wood. His slanting ray And tinging all with his own rosy hue, 10 |