My fancy, ere yet liberty of choice

Had found me, or the hope of being free.
My very dreams were rural; rural, too,
The first born efforts of my youthful muse,
Sportive, and jingling her poetic bells

Ere yet her ear was mistress of their pow'rs.
No bard could please me but whose lyre was tun'd
To Nature's praises. Heroes and their feats
Fatigued me, never weary of the pipe
Of Tityrus, affembling, as he fang,

The ruftic throng beneath his fav'rite beech.
Then Milton had indeed a poet's charms:
New to my tafte, his Paradise furpafs'd
The struggling efforts of my boyifh tongue
To speak its excellence. I danc'd for joy.
I marvel'd much that, at fo ripe an age
As twice fev'n years, his beauties had then first
Engag'd my wonder; and, admiring ftill,
And still admiring, with regret fuppos'd

The joy half loft because not fooner found.

There, too, enamour'd of the life I lov'd,

Pathetic in its praife, in its purfuit
Determin'd, and poffeffing it at last

With transports fuch as favour'd lovers feel,

I ftudied, priz'd, and wifh'd that I had known,
Ingenious Cowley! and, though now reclaim'd
By modern lights from an erroneous taste,
I cannot but lament thy fplendid wit
Entangled in the cobwebs of the fchools.

I ftill revere thee, courtly though retir'd;
Though ftretch'd at eafe in Chertsey's filent bow'rs,
Not unemploy'd; and finding rich amends

For a loft world in folitude and verse.

'Tis born with all: the love of Nature's works

Is an ingredient in the compound man,

Infus'd at the creation of the kind.

And, though th' Almighty Maker has throughout

Discriminated each from each, by strokes

And touches of his hand, with fo much art

Diverfified, that two were never found

Twins at all points-yet this obtains in all,

That all difcern a beauty in his works,

And all can taste them: minds that have been form'd

And tutor❜d, with a relish more exact,

But none without fome relish, none unmov'd.

It is a flame that dies not even there, :

Where nothing feeds it: neither bufinefs, crowds,
Nor habits of luxurious city-life;

Whatever else they fmother of true worth
In human bofoms; quench it, or abate.
The villas with which London ftands begirt,
Like a fwarth Indian with his belt of beads,
Prove it. A breath of unadult'rate air,

The glimpse of a green pafture, how they cheer
The citizen, and brace his languid frame!

Ev'n in the ftifling bofom of the town,

A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms
That foothe the rich poffeffor; much confol'd,
That here and there fome fprigs of mournful mint,
Of nightshade, or valerian, grace the well

He cultivates.

Thefe ferve him with a hint

That Nature lives; that fight-refreshing green

Is ftill the liv'ry fhe delights to wear,

Though fickly famples of th' exub'rant whole.

What are the cafements lin'd with creeping herbs, The prouder fashes fronted with a range

Of orange, myrtle, or the fragrant weed,

*

The Frenchman's darling? are they not all proofs

That man, immur'd in cities, ftill retains

His inborn inextinguishable thirst

Of rural fcenes, compenfating his lofs
By fupplemental fhifts, the best he may?

The most unfurnifh'd with the means of life,

And they that never pass their brick-wall bounds
To range the fields and treat their lungs with air,
Yet feel the burning inftinct: over-head

Suspend their crazy boxes, planted thick,
And water'd duly. There the pitcher ftands

* Mignonette.

A fragment, and the spoutlefs tea-pot there
Sad witneffes how clofe-pent man regrets
The country, with what ardour he contrives
A peep at nature, when he can no more.

Hail, therefore, patronefs of health, and ease, And contemplation, heart-consoling joys And harmless pleasures, in the throng'd abode Of multitudes unknown! hail, rural life! Addrefs himself who will to the pursuit Of honours, or emoluments, or fame; I fhall not add myself to fuch a chase, Thwart his attempts, or envy his fuccess. Some must be great. Great offices will have Great talents. And God gives to ev'ry man. The virtue, temper, understanding, taste, That lifts him into life; and lets him fall Juft in the niche he was ordain'd to fill. To the deliv'rer of an injur❜d land

He gives a tongue t' enlarge upon, an heart