They meet their fate, or, weltering in the bowl, 265
With powerlefs wings around them wrapt, expire.
But chief to heedlefs flies the window proves
A conftant death, where, gloomily retir'd,
The villain spider lives, cunning and fierce,
Mixture abhorr'd! Amid a mangled heap
Of carcaffes, in eager watch he fits,
O'erlooking all his waving fnares around :
Near the dire cell the dreadlefs wanderer oft'
Paffes, as oft' the ruffian fhows his front;
The prey at last enfnar'd, he dreadful darts,
With rapid glide, along the leaning line,
And fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs,
Strikes backward, grimly pleas'd: the fluttering wing,
And fhriller found, declare extreme distress,
And ask the helping hospitable hand.
Refounds the living furface of the ground;
Nor undelightful is the ceafclefs hum
To him who mufes thro' the woods at noon,
Or drowsy fhepherd as he lies reclin'd,
With half-fhut eyes, beneath the floating fhade 285
Of willows grey, clofe-crowding o'er the brook.
Gradual from these what numerous kinds defcend, Evading even the microfcopic eye!
Full Nature fwarms with life; one wondrous mass
Of animals, or atoms organiz'd,
Waiting the vital breath, when Parent-Heaven
Shall bid his Spirit blow. The hoary fen,
In putrid fteams, emits the living cloud
Of peftilence. Thro' fubterranean cells,
Where fearching funbeams scarce can find a way, 295
Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf
Wants not its foft inhabitants. Secure,
Within its winding citadel the stone
But chief the forest-boughs,
That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze, 300
The downy orchard, and the melting pulp
Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed
Of evanefcent infects. Where the pool
Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible,
Amid the floating verdure millions ftray.
Each liquid, too, whether it pierces, fooths,
Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the tafte,
With various forms abounds. Nor is the stream
Of pureft crystal, nor the lucid air,
Tho' one transparent vacancy it seems,
Void of their unfeen people. Thefe, conceal'd
By the kind art of forming Heaven, escape
The groffer eye of Man ; for if the worlds
In worlds enclos'd fhould on his fenfes burst,
From cates ambrofial and the nectar'd bowl
He would abhorrent turn, and in dead night,
When filence fleeps o'er all, be stunn'd with noise.
Let no prefuming impious railer tax
Creative Wisdom, as if aught was form'd
In vain, or not for admirable ends.
Shall little haughty Ignorance pronounce
His works unwife, of which the smallest part
Exceeds the narrow vifion of her mind?
As if upon a full-proportion'd dome,
On fwelling columns heav'd, the pride of Art! 325
A critic fly, whofe feeble ray scarce spreads
An inch around, with blind prefumption bold,
Should dare to tax the ftructure of the whole.
And lives the man whose universal eye
Has fwept at once th' unbounded fcheme of things,
Mark'd their dependance fo, and firm accord, 331
As with unfaultering accent to conclude
That this availeth nought? Has any feen
The mighty chain of beings, leffening down
From Infinite Perfection to the brink
Of dreary Nothing, defolate abyss!"
From which aftonish'd thought, recoiling, turns?
Till then, alone let zealous praise ascend,
And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power
Whole Wisdom fhines as lovely on our minds, 340
As on our fmiling eyes his fervant fun.
Thick in yon' ftream of light a thousand ways, Upward and downward, thwarting and convolv'd, The quivering nations fport, till, tempeft-wing'd, Fierce Winter fweeps them from the face of day. 345' Even fo luxurious men, unheeding, pafs
An idle fummer-life in Fortune's fhine;
A season's glitter! Thus they flutter on
From toy to toy, from vanity to vice,
Till, blown away by Death, Oblivion comes 350 Behind, and ftrikes them from the Book of Life.
Now fwarms the village o'er the jovial mead;
The ruftic youth, brown with meridian toil,
Healthful and ftrong; full as the summer rofe,
Blown by prevailing funs, the ruddy maid,
Half naked, fwelling on the fight, and all
Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek.
Even ftooping Age is here, and infant-hands
Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load
O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppreffion roll.
Wide flies the tedded grain; all in a row
Advancing broad, or wheeling round the field,
They spread their breathing harvest to the fun,
That throws refreshful round a rural fmell;
Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground, 365
And drive the dusky wave along the mead,
The ruffet hay-cock rises thick behind,
In order gay; while, heard from dale to dale,
Waking the breeze, refounds the blended voice
Of happy labour, love, and focial glee.
Or rushing thence, in one diffusive band They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog Compell'd, to where the mazy-running brook Forms a deep pool, this bank abrupt and high, And that fair spreading in a pebbled fhore. Urg'd to the giddy brink, much is the toil, The clamour much of men, and boys, and dogs,
Ere the foft fearful people to the flood
Commit their woolly fides; and oft' the fwain,
On fome impatient feizing, hurls them in :
Embolden'd then, nor hefitating more,
Faft. faft they plunge amid the flashing wave,
And, panting, labour to the fartheft shore.
Repeated this, till deep the well-wafh'd fleece
Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt 385
The trout is banish'd by the fordid stream,
Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow
Slow move the harmless race, where, as they fpread
Their fwelling treafures to the funny ray,
Inly disturb'd, and wondering what this wild 395
Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints
The country fill, and, tofs'd from rock to rock,
Inceffant bleatings run around the hills.
At laft, of fnowy white, the gathered flocks
Are in the wattled pen innumerous prefs'd,
Head above head, and rang'd in lufty rows
The fhepherds fit, and whet the founding (hears.
The housewife waits to roll her fleecy ftores,
With all her gay-dreft maids attending round.
One, chief, in gracious dignity enthron'd,
Shines o'er the reft, the paftoral queen, and rays
Her fmiles, fweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king,
While the glad circle round them yield their fouls
To feftive mirth, and wit that knows no gall.
Mean time their joyous task goes on apace;
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