Was but to boast his own peculiar good, Which all might view with envy, none partake. My charmer is not mine alone; my sweets, And the that fweetens all my bitters too, Nature, enchanting Nature, in whose form That errs not, and find raptures still renew'd, Strange that fo fair a creature fhould yet want With meaner objects ev'n the few she finds! She lofes all her influence. Cities then Attract us, and neglected Nature pines, Abandon'd, as unworthy of our love. But are not wholesome airs, though unperfum'd By rofes; and clear funs, though scarcely felt; And groves, if unharmonious, yet fecure From clamour, and whofe very filence charms; To be preferr❜d to smoke, to the eclipse That Metropolitan volcanos make, Whofe Stygian throats breathe darkness all day long; And to the ftir of commerce, driving flow, And thund'ring loud, with his ten thousand wheels? They would be, were not madness in the head, What England was; plain, hofpitable, kind, And undebauch'd. But we have bid farewell To all the virtues of thofe better days, And all their honest pleasures. Mansions once Is but a tranfient gueft, newly arriv'd, The country starves, and they that feed th' o'ercharg'd And furfeited lewd town with her fair dues, Is fed with many a victim. Lo, he comes! He speaks. The lake in front becomes a lawn; Purfue the track of his directing wand, Sinuous or ftraight, now rapid and now flow, Drain'd to the last poor item of his wealth, He fighs, departs, and leaves th' accomplish'd plan And now perhaps the glorious hour is come, A moment's operation on his love, He burns with most intense and flagrant zeal Or, if that mine be fhut, fome private purfe To be refunded duly when his vote, Well-manag'd, fhall have earn'd its worthy price. One drop of heav'n's fweet mercy Can dig, beg, rot, and perish, well content, So he may wrap himself in honest rags At his last gasp; but could not for a world Fish up his dirty and dependent bread From pools and ditches of the commonwealthy Sordid and fick❜ning at his own fuccess. Ambition, av'rice, penury incurr'd By endless riot, vanity, the luft Of pleasure and variety, dispatch, As duly as the swallows disappear, The world of wand'ring knights and fquires to town. |