Redrefs the clime, and all its rage
Though poor the peafant's hut, his feasts tho' fmall, He fees his little lot the lot of all;
Sees no contiguous palace fear its head
To shame the meanness of his humble shed;
No coftly lord the fumptuous banquet dèal
To make him loath his vegetable meal;
But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,
Each with contracting, fits him to the foil.
Chearful at morn, he wakes from short repofe,
Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes;
With patient angle trolls the finny deep,
Or drives his vent'rous plough-fhare to the fteep;
Or feeks the den where fnow-tracks mark the way,
And drags the struggling favage into day.
At night returning, every labour sped,
He fits him down the monarch of a fhed;
Smiles by his chearful fire, and round furveys.
His childrens' looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boaftful of her hoard,
Displays her cleanly platter on the board:
And haply too fome pilgrim, thither led,
With many a tale repays the nightly bed.
Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot paffion on his heart; And even thofe ills, that round his manfion rife, Enhance the blifs his fcanty fund fupplies.
Dear is that shed to which his foul conforms,
And dear that hill which lifts him to the ftorms;
And as a child, when scaring founds moleft,
Clings close and closer to the mother's breaft,
So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar,
But bind him to his native mountains more.
Such are the charms to barren fstates affign'd;
Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.
Yet let them only share the praifes due,
If few their wants, their pleasures are but few;
For every want that ftimulates the breaft,
Becomes a fource of pleasure when redreft,
Whence from fuch lands each pleafing fcience flies,
That first excites defire, and then fupplies;
Unknown to them, when fenfual pleasures cloy,
To fill the languid paufe with finer joy;
Unknown thofe powers that raise the foul to flame,
Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame.
Their level life is but a mouldering fire,
Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong defire;
Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures chear
On fome high festival of once a year,
In wild excefs the vulgar breast takes fire,
Till, buried in debauch, the blifs expire.
But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow: Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low, For, as refinement ftops, from fire to fon Unalter'd, unimprov'd the manners run;
Fall blunted from each indurated heart.
Some fterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast
May fit, like falcons cowering on the neft;
But all the gentler morals, fuch as play
Through life's more cultur'd walks, and charm the way
Thefe, far difpers'd on timorous pinions fly,
To fport and flutter in a kinder sky.
To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign,
I turn; and France difplays her bright domain.
Gay fprightly land of mirth and focial eafe,
Pleas'd with thyself, whom all the world can please,
How often have I led thy fportive choir,
With tuneless pipe, befide the murmuring Loire ?
Where fhading elms along the margin grew,
And freshen'd from the wave the zephyr flew ;
And haply, though my harsh touch falt'ring still,
But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill;
Yet would the village praise my wonderous power,
And dance, forgetful of the noon-tide hour.
Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the gay gandfire, fkill'd in geftic lore,
Has frisk'd beneath the burthen of threescore.
So bleft a life these thoughtless realms difplay, Thus idly bufy rolls their world away :
Theirs are thofe arts that mind to mind endear,
For honour forms the focial temper here.
Honour, that praife which real merit gains,
Or even imaginary worth obtains,
Here paffes current; paid from hand to hand,
It shifts in fplendid traffick round the land:
From courts, to camps, to cottages it strays,
And all are taught an avarice of praise;
They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem,
Till, feeming bleft, they grow to what they feem.
But while this fofter art their blifs fupplies,
It gives their follies alfo room to rife;
For praise too dearly lov'd, or warmly fought,
Enfeebles all internal ftrength of thought.
And the weak foul, within itself unbleft,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
Hence oftentation here, with tawdry art,
Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart;
Here vanity affumes her pert grimace,
And trims her robes of frize with copper
Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,
To boast one fplendid banquet once a year ;
The mind ftill turns where shifting fashion draws,
Nor weighs the folid worth of felf applause.
To men of other minds my fancy flies, Embofom'd in the deep where Holland lies.
And, fedulous to ftop the coming tide,.
Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride.
Onward methinks, and diligently flow,
The firm connected bulwark feems to grow;
Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar,
Scoops out an empire, and ufurps the shore.
While the pent occean rifing o'er the pile,
Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile;
The flow canal, the yellow bloffom'd vale,
The willow tufted bank, the gliding fail,
The crouded mart, the cultivated plain,
A new creation refcu'd from his reign.
Thus, while around the wave-fubjected foil
Impels the native to repeated toil,
Industrious habits in each bofom reign,
And industry begets a love of gain.
Hence all the good from opulence that springs,
With all those ills fuperfluous treasure brings,
Are here displayed. Their much-lov'd wealth imparts
Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts;
But view them clofer, craft and fraud appear
Even liberty itself is barter'd here,
At gold's fuperior charms all freedom flies,
The needy fell it, and the rich man buys;
A land of tyrants, and a den of flaves,
Here wretches feek difhonourable graves,
|