Mid bafil tufts, and odorous breezes curl
The ftream befprent with many a filver lote;
White, on the fmooth canal, light fhips unfurl
Their fportive fails, and gently as they float,
Flutter the billing doves, and croud the neighbouring cote.
While the gay gilded mofque fhines, half-conceal'd
By tamarinds and the broad-ieav'd fycamore,
And, as beneath their trembling verdure veil'd,
Airs, Eden-born, delicious incenfe pour,
Softening the fervours of the fummer-hour!
While rich pomegranates bid their cooling feeds
To the parcht palate a keen fense restore,
And, round each whispering iflet of cane reeds,
Its melon's grateful pulp the tepid water feeds.
Not ivory palaces, their roofs inlaid
With mafly gold, where thrones of coral glow,
Starr'd with the gems of Ormuz; not the flade
Ambrofial, waving its peach-flowers that blow
To pearly grapes, and kifs the turf below,
The genuine fon of Albion could induce
His dairy-meads, his fallows to forego:
Not all the fruits, that bloom o'er every fluice,
Would, in his mind, outvie the redftreak's vermeil juice.
Nor, if to innocence a gentle fmile
Beam, placid as the May's mild morning break;
If, with a modeft blush, to mark our isle,
Mantle to veins of azure the fair cheek;
Are not the charms of foreign beauty weak,
Beauty, that wantons with voluptuous air?
Can jetty ringlets that adorn the neck,
Sleek as they gliften to the funny glare,
Rival, O Albion's dames, your amber-brightening hair?
Yet pleasure views, and trembles at the gaze,
Thofe gloffy treffes their luxuriance spread
To rofeate effences; the diamond-blaze
Of many a crefcent on the turban'd head,
Or the pearl-luftre as by rainbows fed;
The full dark eye; the panting of the breast,
Through gaufe that feems to kindle; limbs that fhed Purpureal light by filken folds careft,
And the rich zone that checks the thin transparent vest.
See, as the rofe-lipt Almé weave the dance,
To melting airs they move, in amorous play;
Or, arch with nods and wreathed fmiles, they glance
Their nimble feet to frolic measures gay:
The cymbal's notes to love new warmth convey:
The burning aloe breathes its fragrance round.
O'er all the light faloon with fparkling ray,
The diamond trembles to the dancer's bound,
While with fantastic mirth the dizzy roofs refound.
See glowing virgins lave the polifht limb,
What time they bid the mufky bath exhale
Its fteaming odours, and along the brim
The dalliance of the loves lafcivious hail:
Or, when the clear night wafts her cooling gale,
See their fine forms, as eve's last colours die,
Slow on the flower embroider'd terrace fail;
While, glittering thro' its whole expanfe, the fky
With its deep azure fhade relieves the wearied eye.
Yes!-Home ftill charms: and he who, clad in fur,
His rapid rein-deer drives o'er plains of fnow,
Would rather to the fame wild tracts recur,
That various life had mark'd with joy or woe,
Than wander, where the spicy breezes blow,
To kifs the hyacinths of Azza's hair—
Rather, than where luxuriant fummers glow, To the white moffes of his hills repair,
And bid his antler train the fimple banquet fhare.
All love their native fpot; whether befide
Their ice-ribb'd mountains thro' a waste of night,
They catch the froft-gales from the ftormy tide,
And fhiver to the boreal flashes bright;
Or, if the fun vouchfafe a noonday light,
Hail, from the crags, his faint-reflected beams,
And flide, o'er mouldering bridge, from height to height, Where pine, or ebony, or benreed gleams,
To float their huge-hewn planks, along the gulphy streams:
Or, whether blinded by the folar glare,
The moon-ey'd Indian amid poifon'd dews
Tainting the breeze, to balfam groves repair,
And fleep, tho' venom many a plant diffufe:
Or whether he who journeys o'er Peru's
Re-echoing caverns, heap his ore, to pave
The streets with ingots, oft as he purfues
His burthen'd beaft, to where the boiling wave
Once fwallow'd Lima's walls, a univerfal grave.
E'en now, where rages red Vefuvio's flame,
Scarce from the fluid rocks his offspring fly;
Tho' cities, ftrown around, of ancient name,
The monuments of former vengeance lie.
And we have mark'd the indissoluble tie, By which a myriad down the yawning gloom Defcended erft, as Etna fir'd the sky
By which a myriad that efcap'd the doom,
Cling to the fulphur'd spot, and clasp their comrades' tomb.
DESCRIPTION of HAY-MAKING.
[From BEWSEY, a Poem.]
HERE fee the mowers, to their half-done task
Early returning, jocund, o'er the grafs,
That yesterday they cut: with ftone well-ply'd,
Bending, they whet the clear-refounding steel;
And now in order plac'd, ftep after step,
Slow following, with fucceffive well-tim'd ftrokes,
The fcythe they brandish: falling at their feet
In femicircles wide, a mingled heap
Of feedling ftalks and flow'rs of various hues.
In wild confusion lies, to bloom no more.
Meanwhile a num'rous train of men and boys,
And country maidens, bearing in their hands
The rural trophies, cheerfully begin
Their pleafing toil, and fcatter far and wide,
With airy tofs, the odoriferous hay;
Light burden! While as now the climbing fun,
In fplendour clad, pours forth his floping rays
Stronger, the field is all a moving scene
Of gaiety and bufinefs, mirth and toil.
Many the jokes, aad frequent are the laughs,
Enlivening their labour: on the copfe.
Of yonder hedge, where gay the wild-rofe blooms,
Is laid the copious can, with needful store
Of liquor fill'd, and cover'd from the fight
Of bufy flies. Full oft the heated swain
Thither is seen to pace, and from the cup
First takes a long, deep draught: then to the fair,
Not afking, but whofe warm flufl'd cheeks betray
Her thirst, flow carrying, prefents the cup
With awkward gallantry. Fatigued, the band
Awhile repofe: the fun-burnt clown, robust,
Pulls on his knee his modeft-looking fair,
Pleas'd, and yet half afham'd: ah! happy he,
If from her lips he gains at last the kifs,
With many ftruggles won; nor is ev'n fhe,
Tho' her diforder'd locks with many a frown
Now the adjufts, difpleas'd at heart to lofe
The fragrant prize the wifh'd not to withhold.
She feeks not to enfnare a captive train
Of flaves, to grace the triumph of her eyes;
Nor, having won her lover's faithful heart,
To leave him, proud-exulting in his pains.
For him alone the riband gay is feen,
On Sundays ftreaming in het hat of straw,
Luring at church unwary eyes from pray'rs.
Still near her thro' the field he strives to toil,
And oft, when unperceiv'd, they tell their love
In fidelong glances: language fweet! that speaks
In filence more than all th' affected fop,
Practis'd in flatt'ry's arts, with oily tongue,
Pours in his vainer fair's deluded ears.
Here 'tis, that Love beftrews his pleafing joys,
Unblended with his cares; for here no fears
Of rankling jealoufy disturb the breaft.
He knows his maiden true, as fle her swain;
And fo fhall each be prov'd, for Hymen foon
In bondage fweet fhall join their willing hands.
Be kind, ye Southern breezes! blow not yet,
Nor bid your train of gloomy clouds and flow'rs,
Unwelcome now, deform the tranquil fky!
But let the frequent wain, unstopp'd by rains,
Clear the dry hay field of its dulky piles!
REPAST of LUCIAN and SWIFT, in the House of RIDICULE.
[From the PARADISE of TASTE, by ALEXANDER THOMSON, Efq.]
TOW turning to the other table,
Which rather look'd more comfortable,
Thereon two covers we furvey'd
And things in rank for supper laid,
While warm and fnug, another pair
Of fatirifts were feated there-
The Greek, whofe lively fancy drew
So many a pleafing interview;
Who heroes old fo well could show
Converfing in the shades below,
And whofe celestial dialogues
Made all Olympus whores and rogues:
His meffmate was Hibernia's boast,
In cauftic wit himself a hoft;
Expose to view who durft prefume
The fecrets of the dreffing-room;
Who ev'n reveal'd to vulgar fight
The raptures of the bridal night,
And trembling Strephon's eager joy,
To find a woman in his Chloe;
But worst of all, whose faithlefs hand,
At flighted rancour's dire command,
The vile difguftful picture drew
Of that inhuman brute Yahoo.
Before them, hunger's best relief,
An ample difh of fteaks of beef,
Stood fmoking, juicy, fat, and nice,
Of which they each fecur'd a flice,
And feafon'd it, without difpute,
As beft it might his palate fuit.
The Greek was mighty well content
With pickles from Jamaica fent,
And pepper brought from Surinam,
More hot and fiery than a dram.
Not fo St. Patrick's dirty dean,
Who rubb'd along his platter clean
Of aflafoetida a pound,
Which threw a difmal french around,
And then he gobbled up in hafte
His odoriferous repaft;
Which done, no longer would he stay,
But inftant rose, and ran away.
Then to my keen inquiring eye
My gracious guide made this reply:-
"I cannot bring my tuneful tongue,
"To founds of other order ftrung,
"To tell you now the fhameful place
"Where this ftrange wretch has hid his face,
"Who views thofe fights with pleafure's fmiles,
"From which each other eye recoils;
"To whom those founds alone are dear,
"That ftrike with pain each other ear:
"If curiofity be ftrong,
"Much better go with him along,
"And fee him there, in all his glory,
"Rehearling of a filthy flory;
"But me you must, my child, excufe,
"Whofe eye fuch objects never views."
To this what answer I should make,
Long time to think I did not take:
"I feel," fays I, "no inclination
"For fuch minute inveftigation;
"And rather ne'er would fee his face,
"Than follow him to fuch a place."
SITUATION OF SHAKESPEAR, in the ISLAND of FANCY.
HERE up to heav'n a mass of rock was pil'd,
Which feem'd to mingle with the midnight sky;
Of rude accefs it was, and profpect wild,
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