By age when summond to resign his breath, He follows but where Nature points the road, In Fortune’s varying storms for ever tost, Scrambling for toys, then tossing them away. Is safe, whatever ills are here endur'd; With Wisdom's richest harvest Folly grows, Have thus or win'd things, that the restless inind From this just contrast plainly it appears, No happiness complete on earth may find; How conscience can inspire both hopes and fears: And, by this friendly chastisement made wise, But whence proceed these hopes, or 'n hence this To heav'n her satest best retreat may rise. • dread, Come then, since now in safety we have pass'd If nothing really cin affect the dead? Thro' Error's rocks, and see the port at last; See all things join to promise, and presage Let us review and ricollect the whole. -The sure arrival of a future age ! Thus slands my argument.-The thinking soul But claims by Nature Immortality; We question not, but cannot apprehend But still his merit you cannot regard, [friends. It follows, that a time must surely come, A system of consummate skill appcar, And ev'ry cloud dispers'd, be beanviful and clear. From the self-conscious joy her essence brings, Doubi we of this? What solid proof remains, The beauty, fitness, harmony of things. That o'er the world a wise Disposer reigns ? It may be so: yet he deserves applause, Whilst all creation speaks a pow'r divine, Who follows where instructive Nature draws ; Is it dcficient in the main design? Aims at rewards by her indulgence giv'n, Not só: the day shall come, (pretend not now And soars triumphamt on her wings to heav'n. Presumptucu: to inquire or when, or how Say what this vénal virtuous man pursues ; But) after death shall come th' important day, No mean rewards, no mercenary views; When God to all his justice shall display; Not wealth usurious, or a num'rous train, Each ac:ion with impartial eves regard, Not fame by fraved acquir'd, or title vain! And in a just proporrion punish and reward. * Bishop of Worcester. END OF THE FIRST BOOK. ELEGANT EXTRACTS. PO E T I C A L. BOOK TIIE SECOND. DIDACTIC, DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE, AND PATHETIC. $1. The Traveller ; or, a Prospect of Society. Lakes, forests, cities, plains, extending wide, Inscribed to the Rev. Nir. H. Goldsinith. The pompotkings, the shepherd's humbler pride. When ihusCreation'scharms around combine, By Dr. Goldsmith. Amidst obe store should thankless pride repine? EMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Say, shoulel the philosophic mind disdain[rain) Or ontvard, where the rude Carinthian boor Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can, Against the houseless stranger shuts the door : These little things are great to little man ; Or where Campania's plain forsaken lies, And wiser he, whose sympathetic mind A weary waste expanding to the skies : Exults in all the good of all mankind. (crownd: Where'er I roamn, whatever realms to'see, Ye glitt'ring towns, with wealth and splendor My heart, untravell’d, fondly turns to thee : Ye ficlelo, where summer spreads profusion round; Stíll to niy brother turns, with censeless pain, Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale; And drags, at each remove, a length’ning chain. Ye bending swains, that dress the powry vale ; Eternal blessings crown my carliest friend, For ne your tributary stores combine : And round his dwelling guardian saints attend; Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine! Bless'd be that spot where cheerful guests retire, As some lone miser visiting his store, To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire; Bends at his treasure, counts, recunnts it o'er;: Bless'd that abode where want and pain repair, Hoards after hoards his rising raptures fill, And ev'ry stranger finds a ready chair: Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still: Bless'd be those feasts,with simple plentycrown'd, Thus to my breast alternate passions rise, [plies: Where all the ruddy family around Pleas'd with each good that Heaven to man supLangh at the jest or pranks that never fail, Yet ofi a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall, Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale; To see the hoard of human bliss so small; Or press the bushful stranger to his tood, And ofi I wish, amidst the scene, to find And learn the luxury of doing good! Some spot to real happiness consign'd, But me, not destin'd snch delights to share, Where irty worn soul, each wand'ring hope atrest, My prime of life in wand'ring spent, and care; May gather bliss to see my fellows blest. Impell’d, with steps unceasing pursue But where to find that happiest spot below, Some fleeting good that mocks me with the view; Who can direct, when all pretend to know; That, like the circle bonnding earth and skiei, The shudu'ring tenant of the frigid zone Allures from far, yet as I follow flies; Boldly proclains that happiest spot his own; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, Extols ihe treasures of his stormy scas, And find no spot of all the world my own. And his long nights of revelry and ease : E’en now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, The naked negro, panting at the fine, I sit ne down a pensive hour to spend ; Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine ; And plac'd on high, above the storms career, Basks in the glure, or stems the tepid wave, Loek downward whereanlıundred realisappear; And thanks luis sods for all the good they gave. to Sucha Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam : The canvas glow'd beyond e'en Nature warm: Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied Sull grants her bliss at labor's earnest call; By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride ; With food as well the peasant is supplied From these the feeble heart and long-fall'n mind On Idra's cliffs as Amo's shelvy side; An easy compensation seem 10 hind. And tho' the rocky-crested summits frown, Here inay be scen, in bloodless pomp array'd, These rocks by custom turn to beds of down. The pasteboard iriumph, and the cavalcade; From art more various are the blessings sent; l'rucussions form’d for piety and love, Wealth, commerce, honor, liberty, content. A mistress or a saint in ev'ry grove. Yet these each other's pow'r so strong contest, By sports like these are all their cares beguild, That either seems destructive of the rest. [fails; The sports of children satisfy the child : Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment Lach nobler aim, repress'd by long control, And honor sinks where commerce long prevails. Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; Hence ev'ry state, to one lov'd blessing prone, While low delights, succeeding fast behind, Conforms and models life to that alone. In happier nieanness occupy the mind :Each to the fav'rite happiness attends, As in ihose domes where Cæsars once bore sway, And spurns the plan that aims at other ends ; Defac'd by time, and tou’ring in decay, Till carried to excess in each domain, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, This fav'rite good begets peculiar pain. The shelter-secking peasant builds his shed; But let us try these truths with closer eyes, And, wondering man could want the larger pile, And trace them through the prospect as it lies: Esults, and owns his coitage with a smile. llere for a while, my proper cares resign'd, My sonl, turn from them--turn we to survey Here let me sit, in sorrow for mankind; Where rougher climes a nobler race display ; Like yon neglecter! shrub at random cast, Where the bleakSwiss their stormymansiontread, That shades the steep, and sighs at ev'ry blast. And force a churlish soil for scanty bread : Far to the right, where Apennine ascends, No product here the barren hills afford. Bright as the summer, Italy exiends ; But man and stiel, the soldier and his sword. Its uplands sloping deck the mountain's side, No vernal blooms ih ir' torpid rocks array, Woods over woods in gay theatric pride; But winter ling’ring chills the lap of May; Whileoft some temple's mould'ring tops between No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast, With venerable grandeur mark the scene. But mieteors glare, and storiny glooms invest: Could Nature's bounty satisfy the breast, Yet still e'en here Content can spread a charm, The sons of Italy were surely blest. Reclress the clime, and all its rage disarm. But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, With patient angle trolls the finny deep, While his lov'd partner, boasiful of her hoard, And e'en those hills that round his mansion rise, They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteein; Such are the charins to barren states assign'd: Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art, The firin counected bulwark seerys to grow; In wild excess the vulgar breast iakes fire, Spreads its long arms amidst the wat'ry roar, Till buried in debauch the bliss expire. Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore; But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow; While the pent ocean, rising o'er the pile, With all those ills superfluous treasure brings, War in each breast, and freedom on each brow; Have led their children thro' the mirthful nraze; How much unlike the sons of Britain now! And the gay grandsire, skilld in gestic lore, Fir'dat the sound, my Genius spreads herwing, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore. And flies where Britain courts the western spring: So blest a life these thoughtless realms display, Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride; Extremes are only in the master's mind! Intent on high designs a thoughtful'band, Till, half a patriot, half a coward grown, Yes, brother, cirse with me that baleful hour; True to imagin'd right above control : When first ambition struck at regal pow'r, While e'en the peasant boasts these rights to scan, And thus, polluting honor in its source, And learns to venerate himself as man. Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictur'd Have we not seen, round Britain's peopled shore, here, Her useful sous exchang'd for useless ore ; Thine are those charms, that dazzle and endear; Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste, 'Too ble-t indeed were snch without alloy, But foster'd e'en by Frecelom ills annoy. Like Haring tapers, brightning as they waste ; That independence Britons prize too high, Seen Opulence, her grandeur to maintain, Keeps man from inan, and breaks the social tie; And over fields, whiere scatter'd hamlets rose, Lead stern Depopulation in her train, In barren solitary pomp repose ? The smiling long-frequcnted village fall? Beheld the duteous son, the sire decay'd, Ferments arise, imprison'd factious roar, The modest matron, and the blushing maid, Repress'd ambition struggles round her shore; Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train, Till, over-wrought, the general system feels To traverse climes beyond the western main ; lis motions stop, or phrenzy fire the wheels. Vor this the worst. As Nature's ties decay, And Ningara stuns with thund'ring sound? Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around As duty, love, and honor fail to sway, Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Thro' tangled forests, and thru' dangerous ways'; Een now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. Where beasts with inan divided empire clain, Hence all obedience bow's to these alone, And the brown Indian niarks with murd'rousaine, And talents sinks, and nerit weeps unknown; There, while above the giddy tempest Hies, Till time may come, when stripp'd of all her And all around distressful yells arise, charms, The land of scholars and the nurse of arms, The pensive exile, bending with his woc, Where noble stems transmit the patriot Hame, To stop too fearful, and too faint to go, Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for And bids his bosom sympathize with inine. Casts a long look where England's glories shine One sink of lerel avarice shall lie, [faine, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonor'd lie. Vain, very vain, my weary search to find Yet think not thus, when I'reedom's ills I state, Why have I stray'd from pleasure and repose, That bliss which only centres in the mind ? I mean to Aatter kings, or court the great : Ye pow'rs of truth that bid my soul aspire, To seek a good cach government bestows? Far from my bosom drive the low desire! In ev'ry government, tho' terrors reign, And thou fáir Freedom, taught alike to feel Though iyrant kings or tvrant laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, The rabble's rage, and tyrant's angry steel ; That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Thou transitory flow'r, alike undone Still to ourselves in ev'ry place consign'd, Our own felicity we make or find : Glides the sinooth current of domestic joy: That those who think must govern those who toil; Luke's iron crown, and Dainiens' bed of steel, The lified ax, the agonizing wheel, And all that Freedom's highest aims can reach, To men remote from pow'r but rarely known, Is but to lay proportion'd loads on each. Leave reason, faith, and conscience, allour own. Hence, should one order disproportion'd grow, Its double weight must ruin all below. (), then, how blind to all that truth requires, Who think it freedom when a part aspires, $ 2. The Deserted l'illage. Goldsmith. Calm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms, Sweet Auburn ! loveliest village the plain, Except when fast approaching danger warms: Where health and plenty cheer'd the laboring But when contending chiefs blockade the throne, swain ; Contracting regal pow'r to stretch their own; Where smiling spring its carliest visit paid, When I be hold a factious band agree And parting summer's ling'ring blooms clelay'd ; To call it freedom when themselves are free ; Dear lovely bow'rs of innocence and ease, Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, Scats of my youth when ev'ry sport could please, Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law; How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green, The wealth of climes, where satage nations where humble happiness endear'd each scene ! roan, How often have I pans'd on ev'ry charm, Pillag‘d from slaves, to purchase slaves at home; The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm, Fear, pity, justice, indignation start, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, [hill, Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart; The decent church that topp'd the neighb'ring |