When thus Creation's charms around combine,
Amidst the store, should thankless pride repine?
Say, fhould the philofophic mind difdain
That good which makes each humbler bofom vain ?
Let fchool-taught pride diffemble all it can,
Thefe little things are great to little man ;
And wifer he, whofe fympathetic mind.
Exults in all the good of all mankind.
Ye glittering towns, with wealth and fplendor crown'd;
Ye fields, where fummer fpreads profufion round;
Ye lakes, whofe veffels catch the bufy gale;
Ye bending fwains, that drefs the flowery vale;
For me your tributary ftores combine:
Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine.
As fome lone mifer, vifiting his ftore, Bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o'er; Hoards after hoards his rifing raptures fill, Yet ftill he fighs, for hoards are wanting ftill; Thus to my breast alternate paffions rife, Pleas'd with each good that heaven to man fupplies: Yet oft a figh prevails, and forrows fall, To fee the hoard of human blifs fo fmall; And oft I wish, amidst the scene, to find Some spot to real happiness consign'd, Where my worn foul, each wandering hope at rest, May gather blifs to fee my fellows bleft.
But where to find that happiest spot below, Who can direct, when all pretend to know?
Boldly proclaims that happieft fpot his own;
Extols the treasures of his ftormy feas,
And his long nights of revelry and ease;
The naked negro, panting at the line,
Boafts of his golden fands and palmy wine,
Basks in the glare, or ftems the tepid wave,
And thanks his gods for all the good they gave.
Such is the patriot's boaft, where'er we roam,
His firft, beft country, ever is at home.
And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare,
And eftimate the bleffings which they share,
Though patriots flatter, ftill fhall wisdom find
An equal portion dealt to all mankind;
As different good, by art or nature given,
To different nations makes their bleffings even.
Nature, a mother kind alikę to all,
Still grants her blifs at labour's earnest call;
With food as well the peasant is fupply'd
On Idra's cliffs as Arno's fhelvy fide;
And though the rocky crefted fummits frown,
Thefe rocks, by cuftom, turn to beds of down.
From art more various are the bleffings fent;
Wealth, commerce, honour, liberty, content.
Yet thefe each other's power fo ftrong conteft,
That either feems deftructive of the reft.
Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails;
And honour finks where commerce long prevails.
Hence every state to one lov'd blessing prone,
Conforms and models life to that alone.
Each to the fav'rite happiness attends,
And fpurns the plan that aims at other ends;
'Till carried to excefs in each domain,
This fav'rite good begets peculiar pain.
But let us try these truths with closer eyes,
And trace them through the prospect as it lies :
Here for a while my proper cares refign'd,
Here let me fit in forrow for mankind;
Like yon neglected fhrub at random caft,
That fhades the fleep, and fighs at every blaft.
Far to the right where Appennine ascends, Bright as the fummer, Italy extends; Its uplands floping deck the mountain's fide, Woods over woods in gay theatric pride; While oft fome temple's mould'ring tops between With venerable grandeur mark the scene.
Could nature's bounty fatisfy the breast,
The fons of Italy were furely bleft.
Whatever fruits in different climes were found,
That proudly rife, or humbly court the ground;
Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear,
Whose bright fucceffion decks the varied year;
Whatever sweet falute the northern sky
With vernal lives, that bloffom but to die;
THE TRAVELLER.
These here difporting own the kindred soil,
Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil;
While fea-born gales their gelid wings expand
To winnow fragrance round the smiling land.
But small the blifs that sense alone bestows, And fenfual blifs is all the nation knows. In florid beauty groves and fields appear, Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. Contrafted faults through all his manners reign: Though poor, luxurious; though fubmiffive, vain; Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue; And even in penance planning fins anew. All evils here contaminate the mind,
That opulence departed leaves behind;
For wealth was theirs, not far remov'd the date,
When commerce proudly flourish'd through the state;
At her command the palace learnt to rife,
Again the long-fall'n column fought the skies;
The canvas glow'd beyond e'en Nature warm,
The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form.
Till, more unfteady than the southern gale,
Commerce on other shores difplay'd her fail;
While nought remain'd of all that riches gave,
But towns unmann'd, and lords without a slave:
And late the nation found with fruitless skill
Its former ftrength was but plethoric ill.
Yet, ftill the loss of wealth is here supplied By arts, the fplendid wrecks of former pride;
From these the feeble heart and long-fallen mind
An eafy compensation seem to find.
Here may be feen, in bloodlefs pomp array'd,
The pafte-board triumph and the cavalcade;
Proceffions form'd for piety and love,
A mistress or a faint in every grove.
By sports like these are all their cares beguil❜d,
The sports of children fatisfy the child;
Each nobler aim, represt by long controul,
Now finks at last, or feebly mans the foul;
While low delights fucceeding faft behind,
In happier meanness occupy the mind:
As in thofe domes, where Cæfars once bore sway,
Defac'd by time and tott'ring in decay,
There in the ruin, heedless of the dead,
The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed;
And, wondering man could want the larger pile,
Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.
My foul turn from them, turn we to survey Where rougher climes a nobler race display, Where the bleak Swifs their stormy manfion tread, And force a churlish foil for fcanty bread; No product here the barren hills afford, But man and fteel, the foldier and his fword. No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter lingering chills the lap of May; No zephyr fondly fues the mountain's breast, But meteors glare, and ftormy glooms invest.
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