Had left the dungeon of eternal night,

Till black with thunder all the South defcends, adorod &
Scarce in a fhow'rlefs day the heavens indulge
Our melting clime; except the baleful Eaft
Withers the tender fpring, and fourly checks
The fancy of the year. Our fathers talk
Of fummers, balmy airs, and fkies ferene.'
Good Heaven! for what unexprated crimes
This difmal change! The brooding elements
Do they, your pow'rful minifters of wrath,
Prepare fome fierce exterminating plague ?
Or is it fix'd in the decrees above

That lofty Albion melt into the main ?
Indulgent nature! O diffolve this gloom!
Bind in eternal adamant the winds

That drown or wither: give the genial Weft
To breathe, and in its turn the fprightly North:
And may once more the circling feafons rule
The year; not mix in ev'ry monstrous day.
Meantime, the moift malignity to fhun
Of burthen'd fkies, mark where the dry champaign
Swells into cheerful hills; where marjoram
And thyme, the love of bees, perfume the air;
And where the*cynorrhodon with the rofe
For fragrance vies; for in the thirfly foil
Moft fragrant breathe the aromatic tribes.
There bid thy roofs high on the bafking fteep
Afcend; there light thy hofpitable fires.
And let them fee the winter morn arife;
The fummer evening blushing in the weft: b
While with umbrageous oaks the ridge behind
O'erhung, defends you from the bluft'ring north,
And bleak affliction of the peevith caft.
Oh! when the growling winds contend, and all
The founding forest fluctuates in the form;
To fink in warm repofe, and hear the din

Howl

* The wild rofe, or that which grows on the common briar.

Howl o'er the fteady battlements, delights
Above the luxury of vulgar fleep.

The murmuring rivulet, and the hoarfer ftrain
Of waters rufhing o'er the flippery rocks,
Will nightly lull you to ambrofial reft.
To pleafe the fancy is no trifling good,
Where health is ftudied; for whatever moves
The mind with calm delight, promotes the juft
And natural movements of th'harmonious frame.
Befides, the fportive brook for ever shakes
The trembling air, that floats from hill to hill,
From vale to mountain, with inceffant change
Of pureft element, refreshing ftill

Your airy feat, and uninfected gods.
Chiefly for this I praife the man who build
High on the breezy ridge, whofe lofty fides
Th'ethereal deep with endless billows chafes,
His purer manfion nor contagious years
Shall reach, nor deadly putrid airs annoy.

you

But may no fogs, from lake or fenny plain,
Involve my hiil! and wherefoe'r build;
Whether on fun-burnt Epfom, or the plains
Wafh'd by the filent Lee; in Chelfea low,
Or high Blackheath with wint'ry winds affail'd,
Dry be your houfe; but airy more than warm.
Elfe ev'ry breath of ruder wind will strike
Your tender body thro' with rapid pains;
Fierce coughs will teafe you, hoarfenefs bind your voice,
Or moift Gravedo load your aching brows.
Thefe to defy, and all the fates that dwell
In cloifter'd air, tainted with fleaming life,
Let lofty cielings grace your ample rooms;
And ftill at azure noontide may your dome
At ev'ry window drink the liquid sky.

Need we the funny fituation here,
And theatres open to the fouth, commend?
Here, where the morning's mifty breath infefs
More than the torrid noon? How fickly grow,

How

How pale, the plants in thofe ill-fated vales
That, circled round with the gigantic heap
Of mountains, never felt, nor ever hope
To feel, the genial vigour of the fun!
While on the neighb'ring hill the rose inflames
The verdant fpring; in virgin beauty blows
The tender lily, languifhingly fweet;
O'er ev'ry hedge the wanton woodbine roves.
And autumn ripens in the fummer's ray.
Nor lefs the warmer living tribes demand
The fofl'ring fun; whofe energy divine
Dwells not in mortal fire ; whofe
gen'rous heat
Glows thro' the mass of groffer elements,
And kindles into life the pond'rous fpheres.
Cheer'd by thy kind invigorating warmth,
We court thy beams, great majesty of day;
If not the foul, the regent of this world,
Firft-born of heaven, and only less than God!

BOOK II. DIET.

ENOUGH of Air. A defert fubject now,
Rougher and wilder, rises to my fight.
A barren wafte, where not a garland grows
To bind the Mufe's brow; not even a proud
Stupendous folitude frowns o'er the heath,
To roufe a noble horror in the foul:
But rugged paths fatigue, and error leads
Thro' endless labyrinths the devious feet,
Farewel, ethereal fields! the humbler arts
Of life; the Table and the homely Gods
Demand my fong. Elyfian gales, adieu!

The blood, the fountain whence the spirits flow,
The gen'rous ftream that waters ev'ry part,
And motion, vigour, and warm life conveys.
To every particle that moves or lives;

This

This vital fluid, through unnumber'd tubes
Pour'd by the heart, and to the heart again
Refunded; fcourg'd for ever round and round;
Enrag'd with heat and toil, at laft forgets
Its balmy nature; virulent and thin

It grows; and now, but that a thousand gates
Are open to its flight, it would deflroy
The parts it cherish'd and repair'd before.
Besides, the flexible and tender tubes
Melt in the mildest most nectareous tide
That ripening nature rolls; as in the ftream
Its crumbling banks; but what the vital force
Of plaftic fluids hourly batters down,
That very force, thofe plaftic particles
Rebuild: fo mutable the ftate of man.
For this the watchful appetite was given,
Daily with fresh materials to repair
This unavoidable expence of life,
This neceffary waste of flesh and blood.
Hence the concoctive pow'rs, with various art,
Subdue the cruder elements to chyle;
The chyle to blood; the foamy purple tide
To liquors, which thro' finer arteries
To different parts their winding course pursue;
To try new changes, and new forms put on,
Or for the public, or fome private ufe.

Nothing fo foreign but th'athletic hind
Can labour into blood. The hungry meal
Alone he fears, or aliments too thin;
By vi'lent pow'rs too eafily fubdued,
Too foon expell'd. His daily labour thaws
To friendly chyle the moft rebellious mafs
That falt can harden, or the fmoke of years;
Nor does his gorge the rancid bacon rue,
Nor that which Čeftria fends, tenacious paste
Of folid milk. But ye of fofter clay,
Infirm and delicate! and ye who waste
With pale and bloated floth the tedious day !

Avoid

Avoid the flubborn aliment, avoid
The full repaft; and let fagacious age
Grow wifer, leffon'd by the dropping teeth.

Half fubtiliz'd to chyle, the liquid food
Readieft obeys th'affimilating pow'rs;
And foon the tender vegetable mafs

Relents; and foon the young of those that tread
The fleadfaft earth, or cleave the green abyfs,
Or pathless sky. And if the Steer muft fall,
In youth and fanguine vigour let him die;
Nor ftay till rigid age or heavy ails
Abfolve him ill-requited from the yoke.
Some with high forage and luxuriant ease
Indulge the veteran ox; but wifer thou,
From the bald mountain or the barren downs
Expect the flocks by frugal nature fed;
A race of purer blood, with exercise
Refin'd, and fcanty fare: for, old or young,
The ftall'd are never healthy, nor the cramm'd.
Not all the culinary arts can tame

To wholesome food th'abominable growth
Of reft and gluttony; the prudent taste.
Rejects like bane fuch loathsome lusciousness.
The languid ftomach curfes even the pure
Delicious fat, and all the race of oil:*
For more the oily aliments relax

Its feeble tone;" and with the eager lymph
(Fond to incorporate with all it meets)
Coyly they mix, and fhun with flipp'ry wiles
The woo'd embrace. Th'irrefoluble oil,
So gentle late and blandifhing, in floods
Of rancid bile o'erflows: what tumults hence.
What horrors rife, were naufeous to relate.
Chufe leaner viands, ye whofe jovial make
Too faft the gummy nutriment imbibes :
Chufe fober meals, and roufe to active life
Your cumbrous clay; nor on th' enfeebling down,
Irrefolute, protract the morning hours.

But