"Of noon, flies harmless: and that very voice,
"Which thunders terror thro' the guilty heart,
"With tongues of feraphs whispers peace to thine.
"'Tis fafety to be near thee fure, and thus
"To clafp perfection!" From his void embrace,
Myfterious Heaven! that moment, to the ground,
A blacken'd corfe, was ftruck the beautious maid.
But who can paint the lover, as he ftood,
Pierc'd by fevere amazement, hating life,
Speechlefs, and fix'd in all the death of woe!
So, faint resemblance, on the marble tomb,
'The well diffembled mourner stooping stands,
For ever filent, and for ever fad.

In the poem on autumn, he introduces a profpect of the fields ready for harvest, with fome reflections in praise of industry, which are naturally excited by that scene. We are then presented with a defcription of reapers in a field, and with a tale relative to it which we fhall infert. This is followed by a description of an harvest storm, and of hunting and fhooting, with fuitable reflections on the barbarity of thofe paftimes. After which he gives us a defcription of an orchard, wall-fruit, and a vineyard; defcants on the fogs, that fo frequently prevail in the latter part of autumn, and by a beautiful and philofophical digreffion, endeavours to inveftigate the caufe of fprings and rivers. He then confiders the birds of feason, that now change their habitation, and speaks of the prodigious number that cover the western and northern ifles of Scotland. This na. turally leads him to defcribe that country. We are then entertained with a profpect of woods that are fading and difcoloured, of moon-light after a gentle dufky day, and of autumnal meteors. The morning fucceeds, which ufhers in a calm fun-fhiny day, fuch as ufually close this season. He then describes the country people at the end of harvest, giving loose to pleasure and diffolv'd in joy, and concludes with a panegyric on a philofophical country life.

The following pleafing and pathetick tale, which is naturally introduced in his defcription of the reapers, is, if I take not, borrowed from the ftory of RUTH in the Old

ment.

Soon as the morning trembles o'er the sky,
And, unperceiv'd, unfolds the spreading day;
Before the ripen'd field the reapers ftand,
In fair array: each by the lafs he loves,
To bear the rougher part, and mitigate
By nameless gentle offices her toil.

At once they stoop and fwell the lufty fheaves;
While thro' their chearful band the rural talk,
The rural fcandal, and the rural jeft,

Fly harmless, to deceive the tedious time,
And fteal unfelt the fultry hours away.
Behind the mafter walks, builds up the fhocks;
And, confcious, glancing oft on every fide
His fated eye, feels his heart heave with joy.
The gleaners spread around, and here and there,
Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick.
Be not too narrow, hufbandmen! but fling
From the full fheaf, with charitable stealth,
The liberal handful. Think, oh grateful think!
How good the GOD of HARVEST is to you;
Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields;
While thefe unhappy partners of your kind,
Wide hover round you, like the fowls of heaven,
And ask their humble dole. The various turns

Of fortune ponder; that your fons may want
What now, with hard reluctance, faint, ye give.

The lovely young LAVINIA once had friends; And fortune fmil'd, deceitful, on her birth. For, in her helpless years depriv'd of all, Of every stay, fave innocence and HEAVEN, She with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, And poor, liv'd in a cottage, far retir'd Among the windings of a woody vale ; By folitude and deep furrounding fhades, But more by bashful modefty, conceal'd. Together thus they fhunn'd the cruel scorn Which virtue, funk to poverty, would meet From giddy paffion and low-minded pride: Almost on nature's common bounty fed; Like the gay birds that fung them to repose, Content and careless of to-morrow's fare. Her form was fresher than the morning rofe,

When the dew wets its leaves; unftain'd, and pure,
As is the lily, or the mountain snow.
The modeft virtues mingled in her eyes,
Still on the ground dejected, darting all
Their humid beams into the blooming flowers:
Or when the mournful tale her mother told,
Of what her faithlefs fortune promis'd once,
'Thrill'd in her thought, they, like the dewy star
Of evening, fhone in tears.
A native grace
Sat fair proportion'd on her polish'd limbs,
Veil'd in a fimple robe, their beft attire,
Beyond the pomp of drefs; for loveliness.
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most.
Thoughtless of beauty, fhe was beauty's felf,
Reclufe amid the clofe-embowering woods.
As in the hollow breaft of Appenine,
Beneath the shelter of encircling hills,
A myrtle rifes, far from human eye,
And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild;
So flourish'd blooming, and unfeen by all,
The fweet LAVINIA; till, at length, compell'd
By ftrong neceffity's fupreme command,

With fmiling patience in her looks, she went
To glean PALEMON's fields. The pride of fwains
PALEMON was, the generous, and the rich;
Who led the rural life in all its joy
And elegance, fuch as Arcadian song
Tranfmits from ancient uncorrupted times;
When tyrant custom had not shackled man,
But free to follow nature was the mode.
He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes
Amufing, chanc'd befide his reaper-train
To walk, when poor LAVINIA drew his eye;
Unconscious of her power, and turning quick
With unaffected blushes from his gaze:
He faw her charming, but he faw not half
The charms her down-caft modefty conceal'd.
That very moment love and chafte defire
Sprung in his bofom, to himself unknown
For ftill the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh,
Which scarce the firm philofopher can fcorn,
hould his heart own a gleaner in the field :

;

And thus in fecret to his foul he figh❜d.
"WHAT pity! that fo delicate a form,
"By beauty kindled, where enlivening fenfe
"And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell,
"Should be devoted to the rude embrace.

"Of fome indecent clown! She looks, methinks,
"Of old ACASTO's line; and to my mind
"Recalls that patron of my happy life,
"From whom my liberal fortune took its rife ;
"Now to the dust gone down; his houses, land,
And once fair-spreading family, dissolv'd.

""Tis faid that in fome lone obfcure retreat,

66

Urg'd by remembrance fad, and decent pride, "Far from those scenes which knew their better days, "His aged widow and his daughter live,

Whom yet my fruitless fearch could never find. "Romantic with! Would this the daughter were !" When, ftrict enquiring, from herself he found She was the fame, the daughter of his friend, Of bountiful ACASTO; who can speak The mingled paffions that furpriz'd his heart, And thro' his nerves in fhivering transport ran? Then blaz'd his fmother'd flame, avow'd, and bold; And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er, Love, gratitude, and pity wept at once. Confus'd, and frightned at his fudden tears, Her rifing beauties flufh'd a higher bloom, As thus PALEMON, paffionate, and just, Pour'd out the pious rapture of his soul.

"And art thou then ACASTO's dear remains? "She, whom my reftlefs gratitude has fought, "So long in vain ? O heav'ns! the very fame "The foften'd image of my noble friend, "Alive his very look, his every feature, "More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than fpring! "Thou fole furviving bloffom from the root "That nourish'd up my fortune! Say, ah where, "In what fequefter'd defart, haft thou drawn "The kindeft afpect of delighted HEAVEN? "Into fuch beauty fpread, and blown so fair; "Tho' poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, "Beat keen, and heavy, on thy tender years? "O let me now, into a richer foil,

Tranfplant thee safe! where vernal funs, and showers, "Diffuse their warmeft, largest influence;

"And of my garden be the pride, and joy!

“Ill it befits thee, oh it ill befits
"ACASTO's daughter, his whose open ftores,
"Tho' yaft, were little to his ampler heart,
"The father of a country, thus to pick
"The very refuse of those harvest-fields,
"Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy.
"Then throw that fhameful pittance from thy hand,
But ill apply'd to such a rugged task;

"The fields, the mafter, all, my fair, are thine;
"If to the various bleffings which thy houfe
"Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that blifs,
"That dearest blifs, the pow'r of bleffing thee !"
HERE ceas'd the youth: yet ftill his speaking eye
Exprefs'd the facred triumph of his soul,
With confcious virtue, gratitude, and love,
Above the vulgar joy divinely rais'd.
Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm
Of goodness irrefiftable, and all

In fweet diforder loft, fhe blufh'd confent.
The news immediate to her mother brought,
While, pierc'd with anxious thought, fhe pin'd away
The lonely moments for LAVINIA's fate;
Amaz'd, and scarce believing what she heard,
Joy feiz'd her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam
Of fetting life fhone on her evening hours:
Not lefs enraptur'd than the happy pair;
Who flourish'd long in tender blifs, and rear'd
A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves,
And good, the grace of all the country round.

In his poem on Winter, he defcibes the approach of that feafon, and the various ftorms of rain, wind and snow that ufually fucceed; which is followed by a landscape, or view, of the fnow driven into mountains, and a pathetic tale of a husbandman bewilder'd and loft near his own home; which naturally introduces reflections on the wants and miseries of mankind. He then speaks of the wolves defcending from the Alps and Apennines, and describes a winter Evening, as fpent by philofophers, by the country people, and by those in London. He then prefents us with a froft, with a view