Ah no! To diftant climes, a dreary scene,
Where half the convex world intrudes between,
Through torrid tracts with fainting fteps they go,
Where wild Altama murmurs to their wo.
Far different there from all that charm'd before,
The various terrors of that horrid shore ;
Those blazing funs that dart a downward ray,
And fiercely fhed intolerable day;
Thofe matted woods where birds forget to fing,
But filent bats in drowfy clufters cling;
Thofe pois'nous fields with rank luxuriance crown'd,
Where the dark scorpion gathers death around;
Where at each step the ftranger fears to wake
The rattling terrors of the vengeful fnake:
Where crouching tygers wait their hapless prey,
And favage men more murd'rous ftill than they;
While oft in whirls the mad tornada flies,
Mingling the ravag'd landscape with the fkies.
Far different thefe from ev'ry former scene,
The cooling brook, the graffy vefted green,
The breezy covert of the warbling grove,
That only shelter'd thefts of harmless love.
Good Heaven! what forrows gloom'd that parting day,
That call'd them from their native walks away;
When the poor exiles, ev'ry pleasure past,
Hung round the bow'rs, and fondly look'd their laft,
And took a long farewel, and wish'd in vain
For feats like thefe beyond the western main;
And fhudd'ring ftill to face the deftin'd deep,
Return'd and wept, and ftill return'd to weep.
The good old fire, who firft prepar'd to go
To new-found worlds, and wept for other's wo;
But for himself, in confcious virtue brave,
He only wish'd for worlds beyond the grave
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears,
The fond companion of his helpless years,
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for a father's arms.
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes
And bleft the cot where ev'ry pleasure rofe;
And kit her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clafpt them clofe, in forrow doubly dear;
Whilft her fond husband strove to lend relief
In all the filent manliness of grief.
O luxury thou curft by heav'n's decree, How ill exchang'd are things like thefe for thee ! How do thy potions with infidious joy, Diffuse their pleasures only to deftroy ! Kingdoms by thee, to fickly greatnefs grown, Boat of a florid vigour not their own.
At ev'ry draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mals of rank unwieldy wo;
Till fapp'd their flrength, and ev'ry part unfound, Down, down they fink and spread a ruin round,
Ev'n now the devaftation is begun,
And half the business of destruction done ;
Ev'n now methinks, as pond'ring here I ftand,
I fee the rural virtues leave the land.
Down where yon anch'ring veffe! fpreads the fail
That idly waiting flaps with ev ry gale,
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pafs from the fhore, and darken all the ftrand.
Contented toil, and hofpitable care.
And kind connubial tenderness are there;
Aud piety with wifhes plac d above
And fteady loyalty, and faithful love.
And thou fweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,
Still first to fly where fenfual joys invade;
Unfit in thefe degen rate times of fhame,
To catch the heart, or fliike for honest same;
Dear charming nymph, neglected and decry'd,
My fame in crowds, my folitary pride.
Thou fource of all my blifs, and all my wo,
That found'ft me poor at first, and keep'ft me fo;
Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel,
Thou nurse of ev'ry virtue fare thee well,
Farewel, and O! where'er thy voice be try'd,
On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's fide,
Whether where equinoctial fervours glow,
Or winter warps the polar world in fnow,
Still let thy voice prevailing over time,
Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime:
Aid flighted truth, with thy perfuafive ftrain;
Teach erring man to fpurn the rage of gain,
Teach him, that ftates of native ftrength poffeft,
Tho' very poor may still be very bleft;
That trade's proud empire haftes to swift decay,
And ocean fweeps the labour'd mole
away;
While felf-dependant pow'r can time defy,
As rocks refit the billows and the sky.
HANKS, my lord, for your venifon, for finer or
fatter
Never rang'd in a foreft, or fmoak'd in a platter;
The haunch was a picture for painter's to study,
The fat was fo white, and the lean was fo ruddy,
Tho' my stomach was sharp, I could scarce help re-
gretting,
To fpoil fuch a delicate picture by eating;
I had thoughts in my chamber to fet it in view,
To be fhewn to my friends as a piece of virtu;
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