When most severe, and muft'ring all its force, Whose favour, like the clouds of spring, might low'r, And utter now and then an awful voice, But had a bleffing in its darkest frown, Threat'ning at once and nourishing the plant. His fhelt'ring fide, and wilfully forewent Till time has stol'n away the flighted good, Is cause of half the poverty we feel, And makes the world the wildernefs it is. The few that pray at all pray oft amiss, And, feeking grace t' improve the prize they hold, Would urge a wifer fuit than afking more. The night was winter in his roughest mood; The morning fharp and clear. But now at noon Upon the fouthern fide of the flant hills, And where the woods fence off the northern blast, And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue And through the trees I view th' embattled tow'r The foothing influence of the wafted trains, And fettle in foft mufings as I tread The walk, ftill verdant, under oaks and elms, The frequent flakes, has kept a path for me. No noife is here, or none that hinders thought. With flender notes, and more than half fupprefs'd: From spray to spray, where'er he refts he fhakes. That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below. Stillness, accompanied with founds fo foft, Charms more than filence. Meditation here May think down hours to moments. Here the heart May give an useful leffon to the head, And learning wifer grow without his books. Have oft-times no connexion. Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men ; Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Surrender judgment, hood-wink'd. Some the style Of error leads them by a tune entranc'd. While floth feduces more, too weak to bear The infupportable fatigue of thought, And fwallowing, therefore, without paufe or choice, The total grift unfifted, hufks and all. But trees, and rivulets whofe rapid course Defies the check of winter, haunts of deer, And sheep-walks populous with bleating lambs, And lanes in which the primrose ere her time Peeps through the mofs that clothes the hawthorn root, Deceive no student. Wifdom there, and truth, Not fhy, as in the world, and to be won By flow folicitation, feize at once The roving thought, and fix it on themselves. What prodigies can pow'r divine perforin Familiar with th' effect we flight the cause, The regular return of genial months, And renovation of a faded world, See nought to wonder at. Should God again, As once in Gibeon, interrupt the race Of the undeviating and punctual fun, How would the world admire! but speaks it less |