XIV.

From his languid flocks, the fwain,
By the funbeams fore oppreft,
Plunging on the wat'ry plain,
Plows it with his glowing breaft.

XV.

Where the mantling willows nod,
From the green bank's flopy fide,
Patient, with his well-thrown rod,
Many an angler breaks the tide!

XVI.

On the ifles, with ofiers dreft,

Many a fair-plum'd halcion breeds! Many a wild bird hides her nest, Cover'd in yon crackling reeds.

XVII.

Fork-tail'd pratlers as they pass
To their neflings in the rock,
Darting on the liquid glass,

Seem to kifs the mimick'd flock.

XVIII.

Where the ftone Crofs lifts its head,

Many a faint and pilgrim hoar, Up the hill was wont to tread, Barefoot, in the days of yore.

XIX.

Guardian of a facred well,

Arch'd beneath yon reverend shades,

O'er the trembling groves beneath,
Tott'ring with a load of years.

80

XXI.

Turn to the contrasted scene,

Where, beyond these hoary piles,

Gay, upon the rifing green,

Many an attic building fmiles!

THE

DESERTED VILLAGE.

SWEET

WEET AUBURN, lovelieft village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheared the labouring

fwain,

Where fmiling fpring its earlieft vifit paid,

5

And parting fummer's lingering blooms delayed.
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,
How often have I loitered o'er thy green,
Where humble happiness endeared each scene!
How often have I paused on every charm,
The fheltered cot, the cultivated farm,
The never failing brook, the bufy mill,

10

The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill, The hawthorn bufh, with feats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made! How often have I bleft the coming day,

When toil remitting lent its turn to play,

And all the village train, from labour free,
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree,
While many a paftime circled in the fhade,
The young contending as the old furveyed;
*Born 1729; dyed 1774.

15

20

25

And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,
And flights of art and feats of strength went round;
And still as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired;
The dancing pair that fimply fought renown
By holding out to tire each other down;
The fwain miftruftlefs of his fmutted face,
While fecret laughter tittered round the place;
The bashful virgin's fide-long looks of love,
The matron's glance that would thofe looks
reprove!

30

These were thy charms, fweet village; sports like

thefe,

With fweet fucceflion, taught even toil to please; Thefe round thy bowers their chearful influence fhed, Thefe were thy charms---But all these charms are fled.

Sweet fmiling village, loveliest of the lawn, 35
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is feen,
And defolation faddens all thy green:
One only mafter grafps the whole domain,
And half a tillage flints thy fmiling plain;

No more thy glaffy brook reflects the day,
But, choaked with fedges, works its weedy way.
Along thy glades, a folitary gueft,

The hollow founding bittern guards its neft;
Amidst thy defert walks the lapwing flies,

And tires their ecchoes with unvaried cries.

40

45

Sunk are thy bowers in fhapeless ruin all,
And the long grafs o'ertops the mouldering wall;
And trembling, fhrinking from the fpoiler's hand,
Far, far away thy children leave the land.

50

Ill fares the land, to haftening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peafantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be fupplied.

55

A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintained its man ; For him light labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life required, but gave no more: 50 His beft companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.

But times are altered; trade's unfeeling train
Ufurp the land and difpoffefs the fwain ;
Along the lawn, where scattered hamlets role, 65
Unwieldy wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose;
And every want to opulence allied,

And every pang that folly pays to pride.
Thofe gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,
Those calm defires that afked but little room, 70
Thofe healthful sports that graced the peaceful scene,
Lived in each look, and brightened all the green
Thefe far departing feek a kinder shore,
And rural mirth and manners are no more.