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THE TASK.

BOOK VI.

ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH BOOK.

Bells at a diftance.—Their effect.—A fine noon in winter. -A fheltered walk. -Meditation better than books.Our familiarity with the course of nature makes it appear lefs wonderful than it is.-The transformation that spring effects in a fhrubbery described.—A mistake concerning the course of nature corrected.-God maintains it by an unremitted act.-The amusements fashionable at this bour of the day reproved.—Animals happy, a delightful fight. -Origin of cruelty to animals.-That it is a great crime proved from feripture. That proof illuftrated by a tale. -A line drawn between the lawful and unlawful deftruction of them.-Their good and useful properties infift. ed on.An apology for the encomiums bestowed by the auther on animals.Inftances of man's extravagant praise of man.--The groans of the creation shall have an end.— A view taken for the restoration of all things.—An invocation and an invitation of him who shall bring it to pass. -The retired man vindicated from the charge of uselessnefs.-Conclufion.

THE TASK.

BOOK VI.

THE WINTER WALK AT NOON.

THERE is in fouls a fympathy with sounds ;
And, as the mind is pitch'd, the ear is pleas'd
With melting airs, or martial, brisk, or grave:
Some chord in unifon with what we hear
Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
How foft the mufic of thofe village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear
In cadence sweet, now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder ftill,
Clear and fonorous, as the gale comes on!
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where mem'ry flept. Wherever I have heard
A kindred melody, the fcene recurs,

And with it all its pleasures and its pains.
Such comprehenfive views the spirit takes,
That in a few fhort moments I retrace

(As in a map the voyager his course)

The windings of my way through many years.
Short as in retrospect the journey seems,

It feem'd not always fhort; the rugged path,
And profpect oft fo dreary and forlorn,
Mov'd many a figh at its difheart'ning length.
Yet, feeling present evils, while the past
Faintly imprefs the mind, or not at all,
How readily we wish time spent revok'd,
That we might try the ground again, where once
(Through inexperience, as we now perceive)
We mifs'd that happiness we might have found!
Some friend is gone, perhaps his fon's best friend!
A father, whofe authority, in fhow

When most fevere, and must'ring all its force,

Was but the graver countenance of love;

Whofe favour, like the clouds of fpring, 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.
We lov'd, but not enough, the gentle hand
That rear'd us. At a thoughtlefs age, allur'd
By ev'ry gilded folly, we renounc'd

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