Good heav'n! what forrows gloom'd that parting day That call'd them from their native walks away; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past,
Hung round the bow'rs, and fondly look'd their last,
And took a long farewell, and wish'd, in vain,
For feats like these beyond the western main;
And, fhudd'ring still to face the distant deep,
Return'd and wept, and ftill return'd to weep!
The good old fire, the firft prepar'd to go
To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe;
But for himself, in confcious virtue brave,
He only wish'd for worlds beyond the grave:
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears,
The fond companion of his helpless years,
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for her father's arms:
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And bleft the cot where every pleasure rofe;
And kifs'd her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clafp'd them close, in forrow doubly dear;
Whilft her fond husband ftrove to lend relief
In all the filent manliness of grief.
O luxury! thou curft by heaven's decree,
How ill exchang'd are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with infidious joy,
Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!
Kingdoms by thee, to fickly greatness grown,
Boast of a florid vigour not their own;
At every draught more large and large they grow,
A bloated mafs of rank unwieldy woe;
Till, fapp'd their ftrength, and every part unfound, Down, down they fink, and spread a ruin round!
Even now the devastation is begun,
And half the business of destruction done;
Even now, methinks, as pond'ring here I stand,
I fee the rural virtues leave the land:
Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the fail
That idly waiting flaps with every gale―
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pafs from the fhore, and darken all the strand;
Contented toil, and hofpitable care,
And kind connubial tenderness, are there;
And piety, with wishes plac'd above,
And steady loyalty, and faithful love.
And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,
Still firft to fly where sensual joys invade;
Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame,
To catch the heart, or ftrike for honest fame;
Dear, charming.nymph, neglected and decry'd,
My shame in crowds, my folitary pride;
Thou source of all my blifs, and all my woe,
That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so;
Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel,
Thou nurse of every virtue-fare thee well!—
Farewell! and, oh, where'er thy voice be try'd,
On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's fide;
Whether where equinoctial fervors glow,
Or winter wraps the polar world in fnow-
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime ;
Aid flighted truth; with thy persuasive strain,
Teach erring man to fpurn the rage of gain;
Teach him that states, of native strength poffeft,
Though very poor, may still be very bleft;
That trade's proud empire haftes to swift decay,
As ocean fweeps the labour'd mole away;
While felf-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks refift the billows and the sky.
"But now the founds of population fail"No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale"No busy steps the grafs-grown foot-way tread, "But all the bloomy flush of life is fled; "All but yon widow'd, folitary thing, "That feebly bends befide the plashy spring; "She, wretched matron, forc'd, in age, for bread, "To ftrip the brook with mantling creffes spread, "To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, "To feek her nightly fhed, and weep till morn; "She only left of all the harmless train, "The fad hiftorian of the penfive plain."
gentle Hermit of the dale,
"And guide my lonely way,
"To where yon taper cheers the vale
"With hospitable ray ;
"For here forlorn and loft I tread,
"With fainting steps and flow, "Where wilds, immeafurably fpread, "Seem length'ning as I go."
"Forbear, my fon," the Hermit cries,
"To tempt the dang'rous gloom;
"For yonder phantom only flies "To lure thee to thy doom.
"Here to the houseless child of want, "My door is open still;
"And though my portion is but fcant, "I give it with good will.
"Then turn to-night, and freely share
"Whate'er my cell beftows
"My rushy couch and frugal fare,
"My bleffing and repofe.
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