The villain spider lives, cunning and fierce,
Mixture abhor'd! Amid a mangled heap
Of carcaffes, in eager watch he fits,
O'erlooking all his waving fnares around.
Near the dire cell the dreadlefs wand'rer oft
Paffes, as oft the ruffian fhows his front;
The prey
at last enfnar'd, he dreadful darts,
With rapid glide, along the leaning line;
And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs,
Strikes backward grimly pleas'd: the flutt'ring wing,
And fhriller found declare extreme distress,
And ask the helping hofpitable hand.
RESOUNDS the living furface of the ground:
Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum,
To him who mufes through the woods at noon;
Or drowfy fhepherd, as he lies reclin'd,
With half-fhut eyes, beneath the floating fhade
Of willows grey, close-crouding o'er the brook.
GRADUAL, from these what num'rous kinds defcend, Evading even the microscopic eye!
Full Nature fwarms with life; one wond'rous mafs
Of animals, or atoms organiz'd,
Waiting the vital Breath, when PARENT-HEAVEN
Shall bid his fpirit blow. The hoary fen,
In putrid steams, emits the living cloud
Of peftilence. Thro' fubterranean cells,
Where Yearching fun-beams fcarce can find a way, 295
Earth animated heaves. The flow'ry leaf
Wants not its foft inhabitants. Secure,
Within its winding citadel, the stone
Holds multitudes. But chief the foreft-boughs,
That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze,
The downy orchard, and the melting pulp
Of mellow fruit, the namelefs nations feed
Of evanefcent infects. Where the pool
Stands mantled o'er with green, invifible,
Amid the floating verdure millions stray.
Each liquid too, whether it pierces, fooths,
Inflames, refrefhes, or exalts the taste,
With various forms abounds. Nor is the stream
Of pureft crystal, nor the lucid air,
Tho' one transparent vacancy it seems,
Void of their unfeen people. These, conceal'd
By the kind art of forming HEAVEN, escape
The groffer eye of Man : for, if the worlds
In worlds enclos'd fhould on his fenfes burit,
From cates ambrofial, and the nectar'd bowl,
He would abhorrent turn; and in dead night,
When filence fleeps o'er all, be ftunn'd with noise.
LET no prefuming impious railer tax
CREATIVE WISDOM, as if ought was form'd
In vain, or not for admirable ends.
Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce
His works unwife, of which the smallest part.
Exceeds the narrow vifion of her mind?
As if upon a full proportion'd dome,
On fwelling columns heav'd, the pride of art!
A critic fly, whofe feeble ray fcarce fpreads
An inch around, with blind presumption bold,
Should dare to tax the ftructure of the whole.
And lives the man, whose univerfal eye
Has swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things;
Mark'd their dependence fo, and firm accord,
As with unfault'ring accent to conclude
That This availeth nought? Has any seen
The mighty chain of beings, lefs'ning down
From INFINITE PERFECTION to the brink
Of dreary Nothing, defolate abyfs!
From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns?
Till then alone let zealous praise ascend,
And hymns of holy wonder, to that POWER,
Whose wisdom fhines as lovely on our minds,
As on our smiling eyes his fervant-fun.
THICK in yon ftream of light, a thousand ways, Upward, and downward, thwarting, and convolv'd, The quiv'ring nations fport; till, tempeft-wing'd, Fierce Winter fweeps them from the face of day. 345 Ev'n fo luxurious Men, unheeding, pafs
An idle fummer life in fortune's fhine,
A feafon's glitter! Thus they flutter on
From
toy to toy, from vanity to vice;
Till, blown away by death, oblivion comes
Behind, and ftrikes them from the book of life.
Now fwarms the village o'er the jovial mead : The ruftic youth, brown with meridian toil, Healthful and ftrong; full as the fummer-rofe Blown by prevailing funs, the ruddy maid,
Half naked, fwelling on the fight, and all
Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek.
Even stooping age is here; and infant-hands
Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load
O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppreffion roll.
Wide flies the tedded grain; all in a row
Advancing broad, or wheeling round the field,
They spread the breathing harvest to the fun,
That throws refreshful round a rural smell :
Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground,
And drive the dusky wave along the mead,
The ruffet hay-cock rifes thick behind,
In order gay. While heard from dale to dale,
Waking the breeze, refounds the blended voice
Of happy labour, love, and focial glee.
OR rushing thence, in one diffufive band,
They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog
Compell'd, to where the mazy-running brook
Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt and high,
And That fair-spreading in a pebbled shore.
Urg'd to the giddy brink, much is the toil,
The clamour much of men, and boys, and dogs,
Ere the foft fearful people to the flood
Commit their woolly fides. And oft the swain,
On fome impatient feizing, hurls them in :
Embolden'd then, nor hesitating more,
Faft, faft, they plunge amid the flashing wave,
And panting labour to the fartheft shore.
Repeated this, till deep the well-wafh'd fleece
Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt
The trout is banifh'd by the fordid stream;
Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow
Slow move the harmless race: where, as they spread
Their fwelling treafures to the funny ray,
Inly disturb'd, and wond'ring what this wild
Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints
The country fill; and, tofs'd from rock to rock,
Inceffant bleatings run around the hills.
At laft, of fnowy white, the gather'd flocks
Are in the wattled pen innum'rous prefs'd,
Head above head: and, rang'd in lufty rows
The shepherds fit, and whet the founding fhears.
The housewife waits to roll her fleecy ftores,
With all her gay-dreft maids attending round.
One, chief, in gracious dignity enthron'd,
Shines o'er the reft, the paft'ral queen, and rays
Her fmiles, sweet-beaming, on her fhepherd-king;
While the glad circle round them yield their fouls
To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall.
Meantime, their joyous task goes on apace:
Some mingling ftir the melted tar, and fome,
Deep on the new-fhorn vagrant's heaving fide,
To ftamp the mafter's cypher ready ftand;
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