Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn,
Mature and perfect, from his dark retreat
Of thirty years and now his honeft front
Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid
Even with the vineyard's best produce to vie.
To cheat the thirsty moments, Whift a while
Walks his dull round, beneath a cloud of smoke, 525
Wreath'd, fragrant, from the pipe; or the quick dice,
In thunder leaping from the box, awake
The founding gammon: while romp-loving mifs
Is haul'd about in gallantry robuft.
At laft these puling idleneffes laid
Afide, frequent and full, the dry divan
Clofe in firm circle, and fet ardent in
For serious drinking. Nor evasion sly,
Nor fober shift, is to the puking wretch
Indulg'd apart; but earnest brimming bowls
Lave every foul, the table floating round,
And pavement, faithlefs to the fuddled foot.
Thus as they fwim in mutual fwill, the talk,
Vociferous at once from twenty tongues,
Reels faft from theme to theme; from horses, hounds, To church or miftrefs, politics or ghoft,
In endless mazes, intricate, perplex'd.
Mean time, with fudden interruption, loud
Th' impatient catch bursts from the joyous heart;
That moment touch'd is every kindred foul,
And, opening in a full-mouth'd cry of joy,
The laugh, the flap, the jocund curfe, go round, While, from their flumbersfhook, the kennel'dhounds Mix in the mufic of the day again.
As when the tempeft, that has vex'd the deep 550 The dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls, So, gradual, finks their mirth. Their feeble tongues, Unable to take up the cumbrous word,
Lie quite diffolv'd. Before their maudlin eyes, Seem dim and blue, the double tapers dance, 555 Like the fun wading thro' the misty sky.
Then fliding foft, they drop.
Confus'd above
Glaffes and bottles, pipes and gazetteers,
As if the table even itself was drunk,
Lie a wet broken scene; and wide below
Is heap'd the focial slaughter; where aftride
The lubber Power in filthy triumph fits,
Slumbrous, inclining ftill from fide to fide,
And steeps them drench'd in potent fleep till morn.
Perhaps fome doctor, of tremendous paunch, 565
Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink,
Outlives them all, and from his bury'd flock
Retiring, full of rumination fad,
Laments the weakness of thefe latter times.
But if the rougher fex by this fierce fport
Is hurried wild, let not fuch horrid joy
E'er ftain the bofom of the British Fair.
Far be the spirit of the chafe from them!
Uncomely courage, unbefeeming fkill;
To fpring the fence, to rein the prancing fteed; 575
The cap, the whip, the mafculine attire,
In which they roughen to the sense, and all
The winning foftness of their fex is loft.
In them 'tis graceful to diffolve at woe;
With every motion, every word, to wave
Quick o'er the kindling cheek the ready blush,
And from the fmalleft violence to fhrink
Unequal, then the lovelieft in their fears;
And by this filent adulation, foft,
To their protection more engaging man. may their eyes no miferable fight,
Save weeping lovers, fee! a nobler game,
Thro' Love's enchanting wiles purfu'd, yet fled,
In chafe ambiguous. May their tender limbs
Float in the loofe fimplicity of drefs!
And, fafhioned all to harmony, alone
Know they to feize the captivated foul,
In rapture warbled from love-breathing lips;
To teach the lute to languifh; with smooth step,
Difclofing motion in its every charm,
To fwim along, and fwell the mazy
dance;
To train the foliage o'er the fnowy lawn;
To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page;
To lend new flavour to the fruitful year,
And heighten Nature's dainties: in their race
To rear their graces into fecond life;
To give fociety its highest taste.
Well-ordered home man's best delight to make;
And by fubmiffive wisdom, modest skill,
With every gentle care-eluding art
To raise the virtues, animate the bliss,
And fweeten all the toils of human life:
This be the female dignity and praife!
Ye Swains! now haften to the hazel bank,
Where down yon' dale the wildly-winding brook
Falls hoarfe from fteep to fleep. In clofe array, 611
Fit for the thickets and the tangling fhrub,
Ye Virgins! come : for you their latest song
The woodlands raife; the clustering nuts for you
The lover finds amid the fecret fhade,
615
And, where they burnifh on the topmost bough,
With active vigour crufhes down the tree,
Or fhakes them ripe from the refigning hufk;
A gloffy shower, and of an ardent brown,
As are the ringlets of Melinda's hair;
Melinda! form'd with every grace complete,
Yet thefe neglecting, above beauty wife,
And far transcending fuch a vulgar praise.
Hence from the bufy joy-refounding fields,
In cheerful error, let us tread the maze
Of Autumn unconfin'd, and taste, reviv'd,
The breath of orchard big with bending fruit.
Obedient to the breeze and beating ray,
From the deep-loaded bough a mellow shower
Inceffant melts away. The juicy pear
Lies, in a foft profufion, scattered round. A various fweetnefs fwells the gentle race, By Nature's all-refining hand prepar'd, Of tempered fun and water, earth and air, In ever-changing compofition mixt. Such falling frequent thro' the chiller night, The fragrant flores, the wide projected heaps Of apples, which the lufty-handed Year, Innumerous, o'er the blufhing orchard shakes. A various fpirit, fresh, delicious, keen, 640 Dwells in their gelid pores; and, active, points The piercing cyder for the thirfty tongue; Thy native theme, and boon inspirer, too, Phillips! Pomona's bard, the fecond thou Who nobly durft, in rhyme-unfetter'd verfe, 645 With British freedom fing the British fong; How, from Silurian vats, high-fparkling wines Foam in tranfparent floods; fome ftrong, to cheer The wint'ry revels of the labouring hind, And tafteful fome, to cool the fummer-hours. 650 In this glad feafon, while his fweetest beams The fun theds equal o'er the meekened day, Oh lofe me in the green delightful walks Of, Dodington! thy feat, ferene and plain, Where fimple Nature reigns, and every view, 655 Diffufive, fpreads the pure Dorsetian downs
In boundless prospect, yonder fhagg'd with wood, Here rich with harveft, and there white with flocks!
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