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Where turn th' ecstatic eye, how ease my breast
That pants with wild astonishment and love!
Dark forefts, and the op'ning lawn, refresh'd
With ever-gufhing brooks, hill, meadow, dale,
The balmy bean-field, the gay-clover'd close,
So sweetly interchang'd, the lowing ox,
The playful lamb, the distant water-fall
Now faintly heard, now fwelling with the breeze,
The found of pastoral reed from hazel-bower,
The choral birds, the neighing fteed, that snuffs
His dappled mate, stung with intense desire,
The ripen'd orchard when the ruddy orbs
Betwixt the green leaves blush, the azure skies,
The chearful fun that thro' earth's vitals pours
Delight and health and heat; all, all confpire,
To raise, to footh, to harmonize the mind,
To lift on wings of praise, to the great Sire
Of being and of beauty, at whofe nod
Creation started from the gloomy vault

Of dreary Chaos, while the griefly king
Murmur'd to feel his boisterous power confin'd.

What are the lays of artful Addison,

Coldly correct, to Shakespear's warblings wild?
Whom on the winding Avon's willow'd banks
Fair Fancy found, and bore the smiling babe
To a close cavern: (ftill the shepherds fhew
The facred place, whence with religious awe
They hear, returning from the field at eve,

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Strange

- Strange whifp'rings of sweet mufick thro' the air)
Here, as with honey gather'd from the rock,
She fed the little prattler, and with fongs

Oft' footh'd his wand'ring ears, with deep delight
On her foft lap he fat, and caught the founds.
Oft near fome crowded city would I walk,
Listening the far-off noises, rattling cars,
Loud fhouts of joy, fad shrieks of forrow, knells
Full flowly tolling, inftruments of trade,
Striking mine ears with one deep-fwelling hum.
Or wand'ring near the fea, attend the founds.
Of hollow winds, and ever-beating waves,
Ev'n when wild tempefts swallow up the plains,
And Boreas' blasts, big hail, and rains combine
To shake the groves and mountains, would I fit,
Penfively mufing on th' outrageous crimes
That wake heav'n's vengeance: at such folemn hours,
Dæmons and goblins thro' the dark air shriek,
While Hecat, with her black-brow'd fifters nine,
Rides o'er the earth, and scatters woes and death.
Then too, they fay, in dear Ægyptian wilds
The lion and the tiger prowl for prey

With roarings loud! the lift'ning traveller

Starts fear-ftruck, while the hollow-echoing vaults
Of pyramids increase the deathful founds.

But let me never fail in cloudless nights,
When filent Cynthia in her filver car

Thro' the blue concave flides, when fhine the hills,

Twinkle

Twinkle the streams, and woods look tip'd with gold,
To feek fome level mead, and there invoke
Old Midnight's fifter Contemplation fage,
(Queen of the rugged brow, and ftern-fixt eye)
To lift my foul above this little earth,
This folly-fetter'd world: to purge my ears,
That I may hear the rolling planet's fong,
And tuneful turning spheres: if this debarr'd:
The little Fayes that dance in neighbouring dales,
Sipping the night-dew, while they laugh and love,
Shall charm me with aërial notes.

As thus
I wander mufing, lo, what aweful forms
Yonder appear! fharp-ey'd Philosophy
Clad in dun robes, an eagle on his wrift,
First meets my eye; next, virgin Solitude
Serene, who blushes at each gazer's fight;
Then Wisdom's hoary head, with crutch in hand,
Trembling, and bent with age; laft Virtue's felf
Smiling, in white array'd, who with her leads
Sweet Innocence, that prattles by her fide,
A naked boy!-Harrass'd with fear I ftop,
I gaze, when Virtue thus- Whoe'er thou art,
Mortal, by whom I deign to be beheld

In these my midnight-walks; depart, and fay • 'That henceforth I and my immortal train

Forfake Britannia's ifle; who fondly stoops

• To Vice, her favourite paramour,'-She fpoke, And as she turn'd, her round and rofy neck,

Her

Her flowing train, and long ambrofial hair,
Breathing rich odours, I enamour'd view.

O who will bear me then to western climes,
(Since Virtue leaves our wretched land) to fields
Yet unpolluted with Iberian fwords:

The ifles of innocence, from mortal view
Deeply retir'd, beneath a plantane's shade,
Where Happiness and Quiet fit enthron'd,
With fimple Indian fwains, that I may hunt
The boar and tiger thro' Savannah's wild,
Thro' fragrant defarts, and thro' citron-groves.
There fed on dates and herbs, would I defpife
The far-fetch'd cates of Luxury, and hoards
Of narrow-hearted Avarice; nor heed

The diftant din of the tumultuous world.

So when rude whirlwinds rouze the roaring main,
Beneath fair Thetis fits, in choral caves,

Serenely gay, nor finking failors' cries

Disturb her sportive nymphs, who round her form
The light fantastick dance, or for her hair
Weave rofy crowns, or with according lutes
Grace the foft warbles of her honied voice,

ODE

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ODE to FANCY.

By the Same,

Parent of each lovely Mufe,
Thy spirit o'er my foul diffufe,
O'er all my artless fongs prefide,
My footsteps to thy temple guide,
To offer at thy turf-built fhrine,
In golden cups no coftly wine,
No murder'd fat'ling of the flock,
But flowers and honey from the rock.
O Nymph with loosely-flowing hair,
With buskin'd leg, and bosom bare,
Thy waift with myrtle-girdle bound,
Thy brows with Indian feathers crown'd,
Waving in thy fnowy hand

An all-commanding magick wand,

Of pow'r to bid fresh gardens blow
'Mid chearless Lapland's barren fnow,
Whose rapid wings thy flight convey
Thro' air, and over earth and fea,
While the vast various landscape lies
Confpicuous to thy piercing eyes.

O lover

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