THINGS AS THEY WERE, &c. A POEM. BOOK I. RETURN fair Plenty ! angel ever bright, Return, and bless this once high-favour'd isle; Oft have we greeted thee with calm delight,— Again on us, sweet cherub, deign to smile. Revisit soon the British nymphs and swains, And chase our gloomy fears and cares away : On whom our wishes ardent now are stay'd; Why absent thus from this thy fav'rite state: Discover what thy charming smiles repel, And why so chang'd, so dreary is our fate. What are the causes of this scarcity? This woeful dearth which now we feel so keen? Which, like the winter's frost, we cannot flee, Destroys and blasts fair Nature's works unseen. "Tis fell Monopoly, with his fierce band, Which plenty from Great Britain's shore affrights; This cruel foe we cannot now withstand, Deprives us of our just and natural rights. But chiefly the monopolizing farms, Are the grand cause of all our pain and grief; The fruitful source of these corroding harms:Of ills that ask redress, these are the chief. The tempests, fury-wing'd, sometimes o'erturn When snows dissolve, or rains continue long; Such far-spread ills, such fell distress, and fear This dreadful monster rules our fruitful land, Blessing, and being blest, ACASTO dwelt, A moment's pain, that there his lot was cast. Was he unwell? their grieving hearts were moy'd. Belov'd and loving! all his happy hours, Glided along in sweet tranquillity; And all exerted still their utmost pow'rs T'avert or sooth each sad calamity. From his lov'd mansion rarely did he stray, To seek for pleasures in the smoky town; Where numbers dream their useless lives away, Or seek in noise and mirth their cares to drown. Rather among his tenants would he roam, And taste their joys, and gladden all the place; Or walk around his charming happy home, And with his eye the beauteous landscape trace. Thence he beheld spread o'er the wide champaign, Innum'rous cots, and farms of small extent, Where multitudes of peasants could obtain, What their few wants required, and were content. Here, near at hand, the lowing kine did feed B3 There, num'rous flocks of snowy white were spread, In prospect fair all o'er the enamell'd vale. Embosom'd soft in tufted trees appear'd, The hamlets scatter'd o'er this ample space; While tow'rs and spires their lofty heads uprear'd, And did the fair, the varied landscape grace. Some miles in front, each steering for its port, Rich freighted ships were riding o'er the wave; Of coasters too, a numerous resort, Which rarely did the ocean's fury brave: Or waiting for a favourable wind, To waft them to some friendly foreign shore, A fleet was view'd; and when the fates were kind, Old Neptune's sons would cheerfully unmoor. From Dean's high forest o'er the wood-crown'd hills, Oe'r Vaga's banks, and Piercefield's shady grove; Oe'r dim-discover'd towr's, and seats, and vills, From nearer views th' unsated eye might rave. From thence o'er Monmouth's pleasant woods and vales, Far stretching westward down the sea-wash'd shore; Where oft the foaming billow greatly swells, When blust ring winds and furious tempests roar. More distant still, and mingling with the sky, Height above height the Cambrian hills uprear'd Their tow'ring heads; and to the keenest eye, The heav'ns and earth uniting here appear'd. Such was thy lot Acasto! such thy joys, Such was thy unadulterated taste; Thrice happy thou, who far from strife and noise, Didst spend thy days in pleasures pure and chaste. Ye great, ye wealthy ones, who read my tale, When you like him survey your various lands. And joys unfading be your glorious crown. Ah me! that lawn* (but now 'tis vain to weep) And then retrace my youthful days in vain; Those scenes where once my careless childhood stray'd 'A stranger then to wasting grief and pain.' Then near ten thousand sheep graz'd on the plain, And I among the frisking lambkins ran ; Then met at eve's approach the youthful train, And void of care our rural sports began. As heretofore adown th' empurpled west, Bright Phoebus rides and sheds his influence sweet, But now to play ere they retire to rest, No sprightly youths, no rosy maidens meet. Then could each cottager among the flock, Survey or more or less he call'd his own; Besides of geese and ducks he had a stock, Which did on festive days his table crown. *So called by GILPIN in his observations on the Wye, &c. |