The Morning in Summer.
THE meek-ey'd Morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint gleaming in the dappled caft;
Till far o'er ether fpreads the wid'ning glow;
And from before the luftre of her face,
White break the clouds away. With quickened step,
Brown Night retires: Young Day pours in apace,
And opens all the lawny profpect wide.
The dripping rock, the mountain's mifty top,
Swell on the fight, and brighten with the dawn.
Blue, thro' the dufk, the fmoaking currents fhine;
And from the bladed field the fearful hare
Limps, awkward: while along the foreft-glade
The wild deer trip, and often turning gaze
At early passenger. Mufic awakes,
The native voice of undifsembled joy;
And thick around the woodland hymns arise.
Rous'd by the cock, the foon-clad fhepherd leaves
His mofsy cottage, where with Peace he dwells;
And from the crowded fold, in order, drives
His flock to taste the verdure of the Morn.
Falfely luxurious, will not man awake;
And, fpringing from the bed of Sloth, enjoy,
The cool, the fragrant, and the filent hour,
To meditation due and facred fong?
For is there aught in sleep can charm the wife?
To lie in dead oblivion, lofing half
The fleeting moments of too short a life;
Total extinction of th' enlightened foul!
Or elfe to feverish vanity alive,
Wildered, and tofsing thro' diftemper'd dreams?
Who would, in fuch a gloomy ftate, remain
Longer than Nature craves; when ev'ry Muse
And ev'ry blooming pleafure waits without,
To blefs the wildly devious morning walk?
Rural Sounds, as well as Rural Sights, delightful.
NOR rural fights alone, but rural founds
Exhilarate the fpirit, and reftore
The tone of languid Nature. Mighty winds,
That fweep the skirt of some far spreading wood
Of ancient growth, make Mufic, not unlike
The dash of Ocean on his winding fhore,
And lull the fpirit while they fill the mind,
Unnumber'd branches waving in the blaft,
And all their leaves faft flutt'ring all at once.
Nor lefs compofure waits upon the roar
Of diftant foods; or on the foster voice
Of neighb'ring fountain; or of rills that flip
Through the cleft rock, and, chiming as they fall
Upon loofe pebbles, lose themselves at length
In matted grafs, that, with a livelier green,
Betrays the fecret of their filent course.
Nature inanimate employs fweet founds,
But animated Nature fweeter ftill,
To footh and fatisfy the human ear.
Ten thoufand warblers cheer the day, and one
The live-long night.. Nor thefe alone, whofe notes
Nice-finger'd Art muft emulate in vain,
But cawing rooks, and kites that fwim fublime,
In ftill repeated circles, fcreaming loud,
The jay, the pye, and ev'n the boding owl
That hails the rifing moon, have charms for me.
Sounds inharmonious in themfelves, and harfh,
Yet heard in fcenes where Peace for ever reigns,
And only there, please highly for their fake.
THE rose had been wash'd, just wafli'd in a flower, Which Mary to Anna convey'd;
The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flower,
And weigh'd down its beautiful head.
The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet,
And it seem'd to a fanciful view,
Το weep for the buds it had left with regret, On the flourishing buth where it grew.
I hastily feiz'd it, unfit as it was
For a nofegay, fo dripping and drown'd;
And fwinging it rudely, too rudely, alas!
I fnapp'd it-it fell to the ground.
And fuch, I exclaim'd, is the pitilefs part,
Some act by the delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart, Already to forrow refign'd.
This elegant rofe, had I fhaken it lefs,
Might have bloom'd with its owner a-while;
And the tear that is wip'd with a little addrefs,
May be follow'd perhaps by a fmile.
Care of Birds for their Young.
AS THUS the patient dam afsiduous fits,
Not to be tempted from her tender task,
Or by fharp hunger, or by fmooth delight,
Tho' the whole loofened Spring around her blows,
Her fympathizing partner takes his ftand
High on th' opponent bank, and ceafelefs fings
The tedious time away; or else supplies
Her place a moment, while fhe fudden flits
To pick the fcanty meal. Th' appointed time
With pious toil fulfill'd, the callow young,
Warm'd and expanded into perfect life,
Their brittle bondage break, and come to light,
A helpless family, demanding food
With constant clamour. O what pafsions then,
What melting fentiments of kindly care,
On the new parents feize! Away they fly
Affectionate, and undefiring bear
The most delicious morfel to their
Which equally distributed, again
The fearch begins. Even fo a gentle pair,
By fortune funk, but form'd of gen'rous mould,
And charm'd with cares beyond the vulgar breast,
In fome lone cot amid the diftant woods,
Suftain'd alone by providential Heaven,
Oft, as they weeping eye their infant train,
Check their own appetites, and give them all.
Liberty and Slavery contrafted. Part of a Letter written from
Italy by ADDISON.
How has kind Heav'n adorn'd the happy land,
And scatter'd blessings with a wasteful hand!
But what avail her unexhaufted ftores,
Her blooming mountains, and her funny shores,
With all the gifts that heav'n and earth impart,
The smiles of Nature, and the charms of Art,
While proud Opprefsion in her valleys reigns,
And Tyranny ufurps her happy plains?
The poor inhabitant beholds in vain
The redd'ning orange, and the swelling grain;
Joylefs he fees the growing oils and wines,
And in the myrtle's fragrant fhade repines.
Oh, Liberty, thou pow'r fupremely bright,
Profufe of blifs, and pregnant with delight!
Perpetual pleasures in thy presence reign;
And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton train.
Eas'd of her load, Subjection grows more light;
And Poverty looks cheerful in thy fight.
Thou mak'ft the gloomy face of Nature gay;
Giv'ft beauty to the fun, and pleasure to the day.
On foreign mountains, may the fun refine
The grape's foft juice, and mellow it to wine;
With citron groves adorn a distant soil,
And the fat olive fwell with floods of oil:
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