THE TAS K.

BOOK III.

ARGUMENT OF THE THIRD BOOK.

Self-recollection and reproof.—Addrefs to domeftic happiness.-Some account of myself.—The vanity of many of their pursuits who are reputed wise.— Juftification of my cenfures.-Divine illumination necessary to the most expert philosopher.—The queftion, What is truth? anfwered by other questions. -Domeftic happiness addreffed again.- Few lovers of the country.-My tame hare.-Occupa tions of a retired gentleman in his garden.—Pruning-Framing.-Greenhouse.-Sowing of flowerfeeds.-The country preferable to the town even in the winter-Reafons why it is deferted at that feafon.-Ruinous effects of gaming and of expenfive improvement.-Book concludes with an apoftrophe to the metropolis.

THE TASK.

BOOK III.

THE GARDEN.

As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that,
His devious courfe uncertain, feeking home;
Or, having long in miry ways been foil'd
And fore discomfited, from flough to flough
Plunging, and half despairing of escape;

If chance at length he find a greensward smooth
And faithful to the foot, his fpirits rife,

He chirrups brifk his ear-erecting fteed,

And winds his way with pleasure and with ease;
So I, defigning other themes, and call'd
Tadorn the Sofa with eulogium due,

To tell its flumbers, and to paint its dreams,

Have rambled wide. In country, city, feat
Of academic fame (howe'er deferv'd),
Long held, and scarcely difengag'd at laft.
But now, with pleasant pace, a cleanlier road
I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,
Courageous, and refresh'd for future toil,
If toil await me, or if dangers new.

Since pulpits fail, and founding-boards reflect Moft part an empty ineffectual found, What chance that I, to fame fo little known, Nor converfant with men or manners much, Should speak to purpose, or with better hope Crack the fatiric thong? Twere wiser far For me, enamour'd of sequester'd scenes, And charm'd with rural beauty, to repose,

Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or vine, My languid limbs, when summer fears the plains; Or, when rough winter rages, on the soft

And fhelter'd Sofa, while the nitrous air

Feeds a blue flame, and makes a cheerful hearth;
There, undifturb'd by folly, and appriz'd
How great the danger of disturbing her,

To mufe in filence, or at least confine