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But corn was hous'd, and beans were in the stack;
The sun, accomplishing his early march,
Sheep graz’d the field ; some with soft bosom press’d
But when the huntsman with distended cheek,
* Two woods-belonging to John Throckmorton, Esq.
The man to solitude accustom'd long Perceives in every thing that lives a tongue ; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees, Have speech for him, and understood with ease ; After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flow'rs rejoicing all ; Knows what the freshness of their hue implies, How glad they catch the largess of the skies ; But, with precision nicer still, the mind He scans of ev'ry locomotive kind; Birds of all feather, beasts of ev'ry name, That serve mankind, or shun them, wild or tame; The looks and gestures of their griefs and fears Have all articulation in his ears ; He spells them true by intuition's light, And needs no glossary to set him right.
This truth premis'd was needful as a text, To win due credence to what follows next.
Awhile they mus'd; surveying ev'ry face, Thou hadst suppos'd them of superiour race ; Their periwigs of wool, and fears combin'd Stamp'd on each countenance such marks of mind, 'That sage they seem'd as lawyers o'er a doubt, Which, puzzling long, at last they puzzle out ; Or academick tutors, teaching youths, Sure ne'er to want them, mathematick truths ; When thus a mutton, statelier than the rest, A ram, the ewes and wethers sad, address'd.
Friends! we have liv'd too long. I never heard Sounds such as these, so worthy to be fear'd. Could I believe, that winds for ages pent In Earth's dark womb have found at last a vent, And from their prison-house below arise, With all these hideous howlings to the skies, I could be much compos’d, nor should appear, For such a cause, to seel the slightest fear.
Yourselves have seen, what time the thunders roll'd
Him answer'd then his loving mate and true,
How ! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave ? For can we find it less ? Contemplate first The depth how awful ! falling there we burst ; Or should the brambles, interpos'd, our fall In part abate, that happiness were small : For with a race like theirs no chance I see Of peace or ease to creatures clad as we. Meantime, noise kills not. Be it Dapple's bray, Or be it not, or be it whose it may, And rush those other sounds, that seem by tongues Of demons utter'd from whatever lungs, Sounds are but sounds, and till the cause appear, We have at least commodious standing here. Come fiend, come fury, giant, monster, blast From Earth or Hell, we can but plunge at last.
While thus she spake, I fainter heard the peals, For Reynard, close attended at his heels By panting dog, tir'd man, and spatter'd horse, Through mere good fortune, took a diff'rent course.
The flock grew calm again, and I the road
MORAL. Beware of desp'rate steps. The darkest day, Live till to-morrow, will have pass'd away.
WHEN the British warriour queen,
Bleeding from the Roman rods,
Counsel of her country's gods.
Sat the Druid, hoary chief;
Full of rage, and full of grief
Weep upon thy matchless wrong..
Al the terrours of our tongues.
Rome shall perish-write that word
In the blood that she hast spilld ; Perish, hopeless and abhorr’d,
Deep in ruin as in guilt.
Rome, for empire far renown'd,
Tramples on a thousand states; Soon her pride shall kiss the groundHark! the Gaul is at her gates !
VI. Other Romans shall arise,
Heedless of a soldier's name ; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame.
From the forests of our land,
VIII. Regions Cæsar never knew
Thy posterity shall sway;
Pregnant with celestial fire,
Felt them in her bosom glow;
Dying hurl'd them at the foe.