This subtle spoiler, of the beaver kind, Far off perhaps, where ancient alders shade The deep still pool, within some hollow trunk Contrives his wicker couch, whence he surveys His long purlieu, lord of the stream, and all The finny shoals his own. But you, brave Youths! Dispute the felon's claim; try ev'ry root,
And ev'ry reedy bank; encourage all
The busy-spreading pack, that fearless plunge
Into the flood, and cross the rapid stream.
Bid rocks and caves, and each resounding shore, 390
Proclaim your bold defiance; loudly raise
Each cheering voice, till distant hills repeat
The triumphs of the vale. On the soft sand
See there his seal impress'd! and on that bank
Behold the glitt'ring spoils, half-eaten fish,
Scales, fins, and bones, the leavings of his feast.
Ah! on that yielding sag-bed, see, once more
His seal I view. O'er yon dank rushy marsh
The sly goose-footed prowler bends his course,
And seeks the distant shallows. Huntsman! bring 400
Thy eager pack, and trail him to his couch.
Hark! the loud peal begins, the clam'rous joy,
The gallant chiding, loads the trembling air.
Ye Naiads fair! who o'er these floods preside,
Raise up your dripping heads above the wave,
And hear our melody. Th' harmonious notes
Float with the stream, and ev'ry winding creek
And hollow rock, that o'er the dimpling flood
Nous pendant, still improve from shore to shore
Our sweet reiterated joys. What shouts!
What clamour loud! what gay heart-cheering sounds
Urge thro' the breathing brass their mazy way!
Not quires of Tritons glad with sprightlier strains
The dancing billows, when proud Neptune rides
In triumph o'er the deep. How greedily
They snuff the fishy steam that to each blade
Rank-scenting clings! See! how the morning dews
They sweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop
Dispers'd, and leave a track oblique behind.
Now on firm land they range; then in the flood
They plunge tumultuous, or thro' reedy pools
Rustling they work their way: no holt escapes
Their curious search. With quick sensation now
The fuming vapour stings; flutter their hearts,
And joy redoubled bursts from ev'ry mouth
In louder symphonies. Yon hollow trunk,
That with its hoary head incurv'd salutes
The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort
And dread abode. How these impatient climb,
While others at the root incessant bay!
They put him down. See, there he dives along!
Th' ascending bubbles mark his gloomy way.
Quick fix the nets, and cut off his retreat
Into the shelt'ring deeps. Ah! there he vents!
The pack plunge headlong, and protended spears
Menace destruction, while the troubled surge
Indignant foams, and all the scaly kind,
Affrighted, hide their heads. Wild tumult reigns,
And loud uproar. Ah! there once more he vents!
See! that bold hound has seiz'd him; down they sink,
Together lost; but soon shall he repent
His rash assault. See! their escap'd, he flies,
Half-drown'd, and clambers up the slipp'ry bank,
With ouze and blood distain'd. Of all the brutes,
Whether by Nature form'd, or by long use,
This artful diver best can bear the want
Of vital air. Unequal is the fight
Beneath the whelming element; yet there
He lives not long, but respiration needs
At proper intervals. Again he vents:
Again the crowd attack. That spear has pierc'd
His neck; the crimson waves confess the wound.
Fix'd is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest,
Where'er he flies; with him it sinks beneath,
With him it mounts, sure guide to ev'ry foe.
Inly he groans, nor can his tender wound
Bear the cold stream. Lo! to yon sedgy bank
He creeps disconsolate: his num'rous foes
Surround him, hounds and men. Pierc'd thro' and thro',
On pointed spears they lift him high in air;
Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain.
Bid the loud horns, in gaily-warbling strains,
Proclaim the felon's fate. He dies, he dies!
Rejoice, ye scaly Tribes! and leaping dance. Above the wave, in sign of liberty
Restor'd; the cruel tyrant is no more.
Rejoice, secure and bless'd, did not as yet
Remain some of your own rapacious kind,
And man, fierce man! with all his various wiles.
O happy, if ye knew your happy state,
Ye rangers of the fields! whom Nature boon
Cheers with her smiles, and ev'ry element
Conspires to bless. What if no herces frown
From marble pedestals, nor Raphael's works,
Nor Titian's lively tints, adorn our walls?
Yet these the meanest of us may behold,
And at another's cost may feast at will
Our wond'ring eyes: what can the owner more?
But vain, alas! is wealth not grac'd with pow'r.
The flow'ry landscape and the gilded dome,
And vistas op'ning to the weary'd eye,
Thro' all his wide domain; the planted grove,
The shrubby wilderness, with its gay choir
Of warbling birds, cann't lull to soft repose
Th' ambitious wretch, whose discontented soul
Is harrow'd day and night: he mourns, he pines,
Until his prince's favour makes him great.
See, there he comes, the exalted idol comes!
The circle's form'd, and all his fawnings laves
Devoutly bow to earth; from ev'ry mouth
The nauseous flatt'ry flows, which he returns
With promises that die as soon as born.
Vile intercourse! where virtue has no place.
Frown but the monarch, all his glories fade;
He mingles with the throng, outcast, undone,
The pageant of a day; without one friend
To sooth his tortur'd mind; all, all are fled;
For tho' they bask'd in his meridian ray,
The insects vanish as his beams decline.
Not such our friends; for here no dark design, 500 No wicked int'rest, bribes the venal heart;
But inclination to our bosoms leads,
And weds them there for life; our social cups
Smile as we smile; open and unreserv'd,
We speak our inmost souls; good-humour, mirth,
Soft complaisance, and wit, from malice free,
Smooth ev'ry brow, and glow on ev'ry cheek.
O happiness sincere! what wretch would groan
Beneath the galling load of pow'r, or walk
Upon the slipp'ry pavements of the great,
Who thus could reign, unenvy'd and secure?
Ye guardian Pow'rs! who make mankind your care,
Give me to know wise Nature's hidden depths,
Trace each mysterious cause, with judgment read
Th' expanded volume, and submiss adore
That great creative Will who at a word
Spoke forth the wondrous scene.
Tathis gross clay confin'd, flutters on earth
With less ambitious wing, unskill'd to range
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