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Unpractis'd he to fawn, or seek for pow'r,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learnt to prize,
More skill'd to raise the wretched, than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wand'ring, but reliev'd their pain;
The long remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending, swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd:
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sate by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.
Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their wo;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And e'en his failings lean'd to Virtue's side:
But in his duty prompt at every call,

He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow,
guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,
The rev'rend champion stood. At his control
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last falt'ring accents whisper'd praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
The service past, around the pious man
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran:
E'en children follow'd with endearing wile,

And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile;
His ready smile a parent's warmth express'd,

Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distress'd;

To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heav'n.
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

GOLDSMITH.

CHAPTER VI.

THE WISH.

CONTENTMENT, parent of delight,
So much a stranger to our sight,
Say, goddess, in what happy place
Mortals behold thy blooming face;
Thy gracious auspices impart,
And for thy temple choose my heart.
They, whom thou deignest to inspire,
Thy science learn, to bound desire;
By happy alchymy of mind

They turn to pleasure all they find;
They both disdain in outward mien
The grave and solemn garb of spleen,
And meretricious arts of dress,
To feign a joy, and hide distress:
Unmov'd when the rude tempest blows,
Without an opiate they repose;
And, cover'd by your shield, defy
The whizzing shafts that round them fly;
Nor, meddling with the gods' affairs,
Concern themselves with distant cares;
But place their bliss in mental rest,
And feast upon the good possess'd.
Forc'd by soft violence of pray'r,
The blithsome goddess sooths my care.
I feel the deity inspire,

And thus she models my desire.

L

Two hundred pounds half-yearly paid,
Annuity securely made;

A farm some twenty miles from town,
Small, tight, salubrious, and my own;
Two maids, that never saw the town,
A serving man, not quite a clown;
A boy to help to tread the mow,
And drive, while t' other holds the plough;
A chief of temper form'd to please,
Fit to converse, and keep the keys;
And, better to preserve the peace,
Commission'd by the name of niece;
With understandings of a size
To think their master very wise:
May Heaven ('t is all I wish for) send
One genial room to treat a friend,
Where decent cupboard, little plate,
Display benevolence, not state;
And may my humble dwelling stand
Upon some chosen spot of land;

A pond before full to the brim,

Where cows may cool, and geese may swim:
Behind, a green like velvet neat,

Soft to the eye, and to the feet;
Where od❜rous plants in ev'ning fair
Breathe all around ambrosial air;
From Eurus, foe to kitchen ground,
Fenc'd by a slope with bushes crown'd,
Fit dwelling for the feather'd throng,
Who pay their quitrents with a song;
With op'ning views of hill and dale,
Which sense and fancy too regale,
Where the half cirque, which vision bounds,
Like amphitheatre surrounds :

And woods impervious to the breeze,

Thick phalanx of embodied trees,

From hills, through plains, in dusk array

Extended far, repel the day:

Here stillness, height, and solemn shade

Invite, and contemplation aid;
Here nymphs from hollow oaks relate

The dark decrees and will of fate :

And dreams beneath the spreading beech
Inspire, and docile fancy teach;
While soft as breezy breath of wind
Impulses rustle through the mind:
Here Dryads, scorning Phoebus' ray,
While Pan melodious pipes away.
In measur'd motions frisk about,
Till old Silenus puts them out.
There see the clover, pea, and bean,
Vie in variety of green;

Fresh pasture speckled o'er with sheep,
Brown fields their fallow sabbaths keep,
Plump Ceres golden tresses wear,
And poppy topknots deck her hair,
And silver streams through meadows stray,
And Naïads on the margin play,

And lesser nymphs on side of hills
From plaything urns pour down the rills.
Thus shelter'd, free from care and strife,

May I enjoy a calm through life;
See faction, safe in low degree,
As men at land see storms at sea;
And laugh at miserable elves,
Not kind, so much as to themselves,
Curs'd with such souls of base alloy,
As can possess, but not enjoy;
Debarr'd the pleasure to impart,
By av'rice, sphincter of the heart,
Who wealth, hard earn'd by guilty cares,
Bequeath, untouch'd, to thankless heirs.
May I, with look ungloom'd by guile,
And, wearing Virtue's liv'ry, smile,
Prone the distressed to relieve,
And little trespasses forgive,
With income not in Fortune's pow'r,
And skill to make a busy hour,
With trips to town life to amuse,
To purchase books, and hear the news,
To see old friends, brush off the clown,
And quicken taste at coming down.”
Unhurt by sickness' blasting rage,
And slowly mell'wing into age;

When fate extends its gath'ring gripe,
Fall off like fruit grown fully ripe;
Quit a worn being without pain,
In hope to blossom soon again.

CHAPTER VII.

GRONGAR HILL.

SILENT nymph, with curious eye,
Who, the purple ev'ning, lie
On the mountain's lonely van,
Beyond the noise of busy man,
Painting fair the form of things,
While the yellow linnet sings;
Or the tuneful nightingale
Charms the forest with her tale;
Come with all thy various hues,
Come and aid thy sister Muse:
Now while Phoebus, riding high,
Gives lustre to the land and sky!
Grongar Hill invites my song,
Draw the landscape bright and strong,
Grongar, in whose mossy cells,
Sweetly musing Quiet dwells:
Grongar, in whose silent shade,
For the modest Muses made,
So oft I have, the ev'ning still,
At the fountain of a rill,
Sate upon a flow'ry bed,

With my hand beneath my head:

While stray'd my eyes o'er Towy's flood,

Over mead, and over wood,

From house to house, from hill to hill,
Till Contemplation had her fill.

About his chequer'd sides I wind,

And leave his brooks and meads behind,
And groves and grottoes where I lay,
And vistas shooting beams of day:
Wide and wider spreads the vale,
As circles on a smooth canal;

GREEN.

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