I'm juft inform'd, (and laugh me not to scorn)
By one unfeen, by thee, thou'rt English-born.
Of England I-To me the British state
Rifes, in dear memorial, ever great!
Here ftand we confcious :-Diffidence fufpend!
Free flow our words!-Did ne'er thy Mufe extend
To grots, where Contemplation fmiles ferene,
Where angels vifit, and where joys convene
To groves, where more than mortal voices rife,
Catch the rapt foul, and waft it to the skies?
This cave-Yon walks!-But, ere I more unfold,
What artful fcenes thy eyes fhall here behold,
Think fubjects of my toil: nor wondering gaze!
What cannot Industry completely raife?
Be the whole earth in one great landscape found,
By Industry is all with beauty crown'd!
He, he alone, explores the mine for gain,
Hues the hard rock, or harrows up the plain ;
He forms the fword to fmite; he fheaths the steel, 275 Draws health from herbs, and fhews the baim to heal; Or with loom'd wool the native robe supplies ;
Or bids young plants in future forefts rife ;
Or fells the monarch oak, which, borne away,
Shall, with new grace, the diftant ocean fway;
Hence golden Commerce views her wealth encrease,
The blifsful child of Liberty and Peace.
He fcoops the ftubborn Alps, and, ftill employ'd,
Fills, with foft fertile mould, the fteril void;
Slop'd up white rocks, fmall, yellow harvests grow, 285
And, green on terrac'd stages, vineyards blow!
By him fall mountains to a level space,
An ifthmus finks, and funder'd feas embrace!
He founds a city on the naked fhore,
And defolation ftarves the tract no more.
From the wild waves he won the Belgic land;
Where wide they foam'd, her towns and traffics ftand;
He clear'd, manur'd, enlarg'd the furtive ground,
And firms the conqueft with his fenceful mound.
Ev'n mid the watery world his Venice rofe,
Each fabric there, as Pleafure's feat he fhows!
There marts, sports, councils, are for a&tion fought,
Landscapes for health, and folitude for thought.
What wonder then I, by his potent aid,
A manfion in a barren mountain made?
Part thou haft view'd !-If further we explore,
Let Industry deferve applause the more.
No frowning care yon bleft apartment fees, There Sleep retires, and finds a couch of ease. Kind dreams, that fly remorse, and pamper'd wealth, 305 There fhed the fmiles of innocence and health. Mark! Here defcends a grot, delightful feat! Which warms e'en winter, tempers fummer heat! See!-Gurgling from a top, a spring distils! In mournful measures wind the dripping rills; Soft coos of diftant doves, receiv'd around, In foothing mixture, fwell the watery found; And hence the ftreamlets feek the terrace' fhade, Within, without, alike to all convey'd.
Pafs on-New fcenes, by my creative power,
Invite Reflection's fweet and folemn hour.
We enter'd, where, in well-rang'd order, flood
Th'inftructive volumes of the wise and good.
Thefe friends (faid he) though I defert mankind,
Good angels never would permit behind.
Each genius, youth conceals, or time displays,
I know; each work fome feraph here conveys,
Retirement thus prefents my fearchful thought,
What heaven infpir'd, and what the Mufe has taught;
What Young fatiric and fublime has writ,
Whofe life is virtue, and whofe Mufe is wit.
Rapt I forefee thy Mallet's early aim
Shine in full worth, and shoot at length to fame.
Sweet fancy's bloom in Fenton's lay appears,
And the tipe judgment of inftructive years.
In Hill is all that generous fouls revere,
To Virtue and the Mufe for ever dear :
And Thomson, in this praife, thy merit fee,
The tongue, that praifes merit, praises thee.
Thefe fcorn (faid I) the verfe-wright of their age, 335
Vain of a labour'd, languid, useless page;
To whofe dim faculty the meaning fong
Is glaring, or obfcure, when clear, and strong;
Who, in cant phrafes, gives a work disgrace;
His wit, and oddnefs of his tone and face;
Let the weak malice, nurs'd to an eflay,
In fome low libel a mean heart display;
Thofe, who once prais'd, now undeceiv'd, despise,
It lives contemn'd a day, then harmless dies.
*He had then juft written THE EXCURSION.
Or fhould fome nobler bard, their worth, unpraife, 345 Deferting morals, that adorn his lays,
Alas! too oft each fcience fhews the fame,
The great grow jealous of a greater name:
Ye bards, the frailty mourn, yet brave the shock;
Has not a Stillingfleet oppos'd a Locke?
Oh, ftill proceed, with facred rapture fir'd!
Unenvy'd had he liv'd, if unadmir'd.
Let Envy, he replied, all ireful rife,
Envy pursues alone the brave and wife;
Maro and Socrates infpire her pain,
And Pope, the monarch of the tuneful train!
To whom be Nature's, and Britannia's praise!
All their bright honours rufh into his lays!
And all that glorious warmth his lays reveal,
Which only poets, kings, and patriots feel!
Though gay as mirth, as curious thought fedate,
As elegance polite, as power elate;
Profound as reason, and as justice clear;
Soft as compaflion, yet as truth fevere;
As bounty copious, as perfuafion fweet,
Like nature various, and like art complete;
So fine her morals, fa fublime her views,
His life is almost equal'd by his Muse.
O Pope! Since Envy is decreed by fate,
Since the purfues alone the wife and great;
In one fmall, emblematic landscape see,
How vat a distance 'twixt thy foe and thee!
Truth from an eminence furveys our scene
(A hill, where all is clear, and all ferene).
Rude earth-bred ftorms o'er meaner valleys blow, 375
And wandering mists roll, blackening, far below;
Dark, and debas'd, like them, is Envy's aim,
And clear, and eminent, like Truth, thy fame.
Thus I. From what dire caufe can envy fpring?
Or why embofom we a viper's fting?
'Tis Envy ftings our darling paffion, pride. Alas! (the man of mighty foul replied)
Why chufe we miferies? Moft derive their birth
From one bad fource-we dread superior worth;
Prefer'd, it feems a fatire on our own;
Then heedless to excel we meanly moan:
Then we abstract our views, and Envy fhow,
Whence fprings the mifery, pride is doom'd to know.
Thus folly pain creates: By wifdom's power,
We fhun the weight of many a restless hour——— 390
Lo! I meet wrong; perhaps the wrong I feel
Tends, by the fcheme of things, to public weal.
J. of the whole, am part-the joy men fee,
Muft circulate, and fo revolve to me.
Why fhould I then of private lofs complain?
Of lofs, that proves, perchance, a brother's gain?
The wind, that binds one bark within the bay,
May waft a richer freight its wishi`d-for way.
If rains redundant flood the abject ground,
Mountains are but fupplied, when vales are drown'd; 400
If, with foft moifture fwell'd, the vale looks gay,
The verdure of the mountain fades away.
Shall clouds but at my welfare's call defcend?
Shall gravity for me her laws fufpend?
|