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And silent cypher, while her proxy plays.
Others are dragg’d into a crowded room
Between supporters; and, once seated, sit,
Through downright inability to rise,
Till the stout bearers lift the corpse again.
These speak a loud memento. Yet e'en iness
Themselves love life, and cling to it, as he
That overhangs a torrent, to a twig.
They love it, and yet loathe it; fear to die,
Yet scorn the purposes for which they live.
Then wherefore not renounce them ? No-the

The slavish dread of solitude, that breeds,
Reflection and remorse, the fear of shame,
And their invet'rate habits, all forbid.
Whom call we gay? That honour has bee!

The boast of mere pretenders to the name.
The innocent are gay—the lark is gay,
That dries his feathers, saturate with dew,
Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams
Of day-spring overshoot his humble nest.
The peasant too, a witness of his song,
Himself a songster, is as gay as he.

But save me from the gayety of those, Whose headaches nail them to a noonday bed ; And save me too from theirs, whose haggard

eyes Flash desperation, and betray their pangs For property stripp'd off by cruel chance; From gayety, that fills the bones with pain, The mouth with blasphemy, the hear' with wo. The earth was made so various, that tho

mind Of desultory man, studious of changu, And pleas’d with novelty, might be indulg'i. Prospects, however lovely, may be seen Till half their beauties fade: the weary sight Too well acquainted with their smiles, slideg

off, Fastidious, seeking less familiar scenes. Then snug enclosures in the shelter'd valo, Where frequent hedges intercept the eye, Delight us; happy to renounce awhile, Not senseless of its charms, what still we love, That such short absence may endear it more. Then forests, or the savage rock, may please, That hides the sea-mew in his hollow clefts Above the reach of inan. His hoary head, Conspicuous many a league, the mariner Bound homeward, and in hope already there Greets with three cheers exulting. At nig

waist A girdle of half-wither'd shrubs he shows, And at his feet the baffled billows die. The common, overgrown with fern, and rough With prickly gorse, that, shapeless and de.

form’d, And dang’rous to the touch, has yet its bloom, And decks itself with ornaments of gold, Yields no unpleasing ramble ; there the turf Smells fresh, and, rich in odorif 'rous herbs And fungous fruits of earth, regales the sense With luxury of unexpected sweets.

There oiten wanders one, whom butter days Jaw better clad, in cloak of satin trimm'd With lace, and hat with splendid riband bound A serving maid was she, and fell in love With one who left her, went to sea, and died. Her fancy followed him through foaming waves To distant shores; and she would sit and weep At what a sailor suffers ; fancy too, Delusive most where warmest wishes are, Would oft anticipate his glad return, And dream of transports she was not to know. She heard the doleful tidings of his deathAnd never smil'd again! and now she roams The dreary waste; there spends the livelong

day, And there, unless when charity forbids, The livelong night. A tatter'd apron hides, Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown More tatter'd still; and both but ill conceal A bosom heav'd with never-ceasing sighs. She begs an idle pin of all she meets, And hoards them in her sleeve; but needful

food, Though press'd with hunger oft, or comelier

clothes, Though pinch'd with cold, asks never.-Kate ia

I see a column of slow rising smoke
O’ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild.
A vagabond and useless tribe there eat
Their miserable meal. A kettle, slung
Between two poles upon a stick transverse,

Receives the morsel-flesh obscene of dog.
Or vermin, or at best of cock purioin'd
From his accustom'd perch. Hard faring race,
They pick their fuel out of ev'ry hedge,
Which, kindled with dry leaves, just saves un.

quench'd The spark of life. The sportive wind blows

wide Their flutt'ring rags, and shows a tawny skin, The vellum of the pedigree they claim. Great skill have they in palmistry, and more To conjure clean away the gold they touch, Conveying worthless dross into its place; Loud when they beg, dumb only when they

steal. Strange! that a creature rational, and cast In human mould, should brutalize by choice His nature; and, though capable of arts, By which the world might profit, and himself Self-banish'd from society, prefer Such squalid sloth to honourable toil! Yet even these, though feigning sickness oft They swathe the forehead, drag the limping

limb, And vex their flesh with artificial gores, Can change their whine into a mirthful note, When safe occasion offers; and with dance, And music of the bladder and the bag, Beguile their woes, and make the woods

resound. Such health and gayety of heart enjoy The hocseless rovers of the sylvan world;

And, breathing wholesome air, and wand'ring

much, Need other physic none to heal th' effects Of loathsome diet, penury, and cold. Blest he, though undistinguish'd from the

crowd By wealth or dignity, who dwells secure, Where man by nature fierce has laid aside His fierceness, having learnt, though slow to

learn, The manners and the arts of civil life. Ilis wants indeed are many; but supply Is obvious, plac'd within the easy reach Of temp’rate wishes and industrious hands. Here virtue thrives as in her proper soil ; Not rude and surly, and beset with thorns, And terrible to sight, as when she springs, (If e'er she spring spontaneously,) in remote And barb'rous climes, where violence prevails, And strength is lord of all; but gentle, kind, By culture tam’d, by liberty refreshed, And all her fruits by radiant truth matur'd. War and the chase engross the savage whole; War follow'd for revenge or to supplant The envied tenants of some happier spot: The chase for sustenance, precarious trust! His hard condition with severe constraint Binds all his faculties, forbids all growth Of wisdom, proves a school, in which he learne Sly circumvention, unrelenting hate, Mean self-attachment, and scaice aught beside Thus fare the shiv’ring natives of the north,

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