XIV. From his languid flocks, the fwain, XV. Where the mantling willows nod, 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 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, 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. 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, 15 20 25 And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, 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 No more thy glaffy brook reflects the day, The hollow founding bittern guards its neft; And tires their ecchoes with unvaried cries. 40 45 Sunk are thy bowers in fhapeless ruin all, 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 And every pang that folly pays to pride. |