ARGUMENT of the FIFTH BOOK.
A frosty morning.-The foddering of cattle.-The woodman and his dog.-The poultry.-Whimsical effects of frost at a waterfall.-The Empress of Ruffia's palace of ice.—Amusements of monarchs.— War, one of them.-Wars, whence.-And whence monarchy.—The evils of it.—English and French loyalty contrafted.-The Bafile, and a prisoner there.-Liberty the chief recommendation of this country.― Modern patriotism questionable, and why. The perishable nature of the best human inflitutions. Spiritual liberty not perishable.—The flavish ftate of man by nature.-Deliver him, Deift, if you can. Grace must do it.-The respective merits of patriots and martyrs ftated—Their different treatment.— Happy freedom of the man whom grace makes free His relifh of the works of God.-Address to the Creator.
'TIS morning; and the fun with ruddy orb
Afcending, fires the horizon; while the clouds
That crowd away before the driving wind,
More ardent as the disk emerges more,
Refemble most some city in a blaze,
Seen through the leaflefs wood. His flanting ray
Slides ineffectual down the fnowy vale,
And tinging all with his own rofy hue,
From ev'ry herb and ev'ry spiry blade
Stretches a length of fhadow o'er the field.
Mine, spindling into longitude immense,
In spite of gravity, and fage remark
That I myself am but a fleeting fhade,
Provokes me to a smile. With eye askance
I view the muscular proportioned limb
Transform'd to a lean fhank. The fhapeless pair,
As they design'd to mock me, at my
fide
Take ftep for step; and as I near approach
The cottage, walk along the plaister'd wall,
Prepofterous fight! the legs without the man.
The verdure of the plain lies buried deep
Beneath the dazzling deluge; and the bents,
And coarfer grass upfpearing o'er the rest,
Of late unfightly and unfeen, now shire
Confpicuous, and in bright apparel clad,
And fledg'd with icy feathers, nod fuperb.
The cattle mourn in corners where the fence
Screens them, and feem half petrify'd to fleep
In unrecumbent fadnefs. There they wait
Their wonted fodder, not like hung'ring man
Fretful if unfupply'd, but filent, meek,
And patient of the flow-pac'd swains delay.
He from the stack carves out th' accuftom'd load,
Deep-plunging, and again deep plunging oft
His broad keen knife into the folid mafs;
Smooth as a wall the upright remnant stands,
With fuch undeviating and even force
He fevers it away; no needless care
Left ftorms fhould overfet the leaning pile
Deciduous, or its own unbalanc'd weight.
Forth goes the woodman, leaving unconcern'd The cheerful haunts of man to wield the axe And drive the wedge in yonder foreft drear, From morn to eve his solitary task.
Shaggy, and lean, and fhrewd, with pointed ears
And tail cropp'd fhort, half lurcher and half cur,
His dog attends him. Clofe behind his heel
Now creeps he flow; and now with many a frisk
Wide-scamp'ring, fnatches up the drifted fnow
With iv'ry teeth, or ploughs it with his fnout;
Then shakes his powder'd coat and barks for joy.
Heedlefs of all his pranks, the sturdy churl
Moves right toward the mark; nor ftops for aught,
But, now and then, with preffure of his thumb
T' adjust the fragrant charge of a short tube
That fumes beneath his nofe: the trailing cloud
Streams far behind him, scenting all the air.
Now from the rooft, or from the neighb'ring pale,
Where, diligent to catch the firft faint gleam
Of smiling day, they goffip'd fide by fide,
Come trooping at the housewife's well known call
The feather'd tribes domeftic. Half on wing,
And half on foot, they brush the fleecy flood,
Confcious, and fearful of too deep a plunge.
The fparrows peep, and quit the shelt❜ring eaves
To feize the fair occafion. Well they eye
The scatter'd grain, and thievifhly refolv'd
T' escape th' impending famine, often scar'd
|