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Allur'd by my report : but sure no less
That self-condemn'd they must neglect the prize,
And what they will not taste must yet approve.
What we admire we priase ; and when we praise
Advance it into notice, that, its worth
Acknowledg’d, others may admire it too.
I therefore recommend, though at the risk
Of popular disgust, yet boldly still,
The cause of piety and sacred truth,
And virtue, and those scenes which God or.

dain'd Should best secure them, and promote them

most ; Scenes that I love, and with regret perceive Forsaken, or through folly not enjoy’d. Pure is the nymph, though lib'ral of her smiles, And chaste, though unconfin'd, whom I extol. Not as the prince in Shushan, when he call'd, Vain-glorious of her charms, his Vashti forth, To grace the full pavilion. His design Was but to boast his own peculiar good, Which all might view with envy, none partake. My charmer is not mine alone; my sweets, And she that sweetens all my bitters too, Nature, enchanting Nature, in whose form And lineaments divine I trace a hand That errs not, and find raptures still renew'd, Is free to all men-universal prize. Strange that so fair a creature should yet want Admirers, and be destin'd to divide With meaner objects e'en the few she finds! Stripp'd of her ornaments, her leaves and flow'rs,

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She loses all her influence. Cities then
Attract us, and neglected nature pines,
Abandon'd as unworthy of our love.
But are not wholesome airs, though unperfum'd
By roses; and clear suns, though scarcely felt;
And groves, if unharmonious, yet secure
From clamour, and whose very silence charms :
To be preferr'd to smoke, to the eclipse,
That metropolitan volcanoes make,
Whose Stygian throats breathe darkness all day

long ; And to the stir of Commerce, driving slow, And thund'ring loud, with his ten thousand

wheels ? They would be, were not madness in the head, And folly in the heart; were England now, What England was, plain, hospitable, kind, And undebauch'd. But we have bid farewell To all the virtues of those better days, And all their honest pleasures. Mansions once Knew their own masters; and laborious hinds, Who had surviv'd the father, serv'd the son. Now, the legitimate and rightful lord Is but a transient guest, newly arriv'd, And soon to be supplanted. He that saw His patrimonial timber cast its leaf, Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price To some shrewd sharper, ere it buds again. Estates are landscapes, gaz'd upon a while, Then advertis'd, and auctioneer'd away. The country starves, and they that feed th'



And surfeited lewd town with her fair dues, By a just judgment stript and starve themselves. The wings that waft our riches out of sigḥt, Grow on the gamester's elbows, and the alert And nimble motion of those restless joints, That never tire, soon fans them all away. Improvement, too, the idol of the age, Is fed with many a victim. Lo, he comes ! Th' omnipotent magician, Brown, appears! Down falls the venerable pile, th' abode Of our forefathers-a grave whisker'd race, But tasteless. Springs a palace in its stead, But in a distant spot; where more expos'd It may enjoy th' advantage of the north, And aguish east, till time shall have transform'd Those naked acres to a shelt'ring grove. He speaks. The lake in front becomes a lawn; Woods vanish, hills subside, and valleys rise : And streams, as if created for his use, Pursue the track of his directing wand. Sinuous or straight, now.rapid and now slow, Now murm'ring soft, now roaring in cascadesE'en as he bids! The enraptur'd owner smiles. 'Tis finish’d, and yet, finish'd as it seems Still wants a grace, the loveliest it could show, A mine to satisfy th' enormous cost. Drain'd to the last poor item of his wealth, He sighs, departs,and leaves th' accomptish'd plan That he has touch'd, retouch'd many a long day Labour'd, and many a night pursu'd in dreams, Just when it meets his hopes, and proves the


He wanted, for a wealthier to enjoy!
And now perhaps the glorious hour is come,
When, having no ştake left, no pledge t'endear,
Her int’rests, or that gives her sacred cause
A moment's operation on his love,
He burns with most intense and flagrant zeal.
To serve his country. Ministerial grace
Deals him out money from the public chest ;
Or, if that mine be shut, some private purse
Supplies bis need with‘a usurious loan,
To be refunded duly, when his yote.
Well-manag'd shall have earn'd its worthy price.
O innocent, compar'd with arts like these,
Crape, and cock'd pistol, and the whistling ball
Sent through the trav’ller's temples! He that finds
One drop of Heav'n's sweet mercy in his cup,
Can dig, beg, rot, and perish, well content,
So he may wrap himself in honest rags
At his last gasp : but could not for a world
Fish up his dirty and dependent bread
From pools and ditches of the commonwealth,
Sordid and sick’ning at his own success.

Ambition, avarice, penury, incurr'd
By endless riot, vanity, the lust
Of pleasure and variety, despatch
As duly as the swallows disappear,
The world of wand'ring knights and squires to

town. London engulfs them all! The shark is there, And the shark's prey; the spendthrift, and the

leech That sucks him: there the sycophant, and he


Who, with bareheaded and obsequious bows
Begs a warm office, dooin'd to a cold jai!
And groat per diem, if his patron frown,
The levee swarms, as if in golden pomp
Were character'd on ev'ry statesman's door,
Batter'd and bankrupt fortunes mended here."
These are the charms that sully and eclipse
The charms of nature. 'Tis the cruel gripe,
That lean, hard-handed Poverty inflicts,
The hope of better things, the chance to win,
The wish to shine, the thirst to be amus'd,
That at the sound of Winter's hoary wing
Unpeople all our countries of such herds
of flutt'ring, loit'ring, cringing, begging, loose,
And wanton vagrants, as make London, vast
And boundless as it is, a crowded coop.

O thou resort and mart of all the earth,
Checker'd with all complexions of mankind,
And spotted with all crimes; in whom I see
Much that I love, and more that I admire,
And all that I abhor; thou freckled fair,
That pleasest and yet shockest me! I can laugh,
And I can weep, can hope and can despond
Feel wrath and pity, when I think on thee!
Ten righteous would have sav'd a city once,
And thou hast many righteous.-Well for thee-
That salt preserves thee; more corrupted else,
And therefore more obnoxious, at this hour,
Than Sodom in her day had pow'r to be,
For whom God heard his Abr' ham plead in vain.

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