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Ambition, av'rice, penury incurr'd By endless riot, vanity, the lust Of pleasure and variety, despatch, As duly as the swallows disappear, The world of wand'ring knights and squires to town. London ingulfs them all! the shark is there, And the shark's prey; the spendthrift, and the leech That sucks him: there the sycophant, and he Who, with bareheaded and obsequious bows, Begs a warm office, doom'd to a cold gaol And groat per diem, if his patron frown. The levee swarms, as if in golden pomp Were character'd on ev'ry statesman's door, * Batter'd and bankrupt fortunes mended here.' These are the charms, that sully and eclipse The charms of nature. Tis the cruel gripe, That lean, hard-handed Poverty inflicts, The hope of better things, the chance to win, The wish to shine, the thirst to be amus'd, That at the sound of Winter's hoary wing Unpeople all our counties of such herds Or flutt'ring, loit'ring, cringing,

begging, loose, And wanton vagrants, as make London, vast. And boundless as it is, a crowded coop.

O, thou, resort and mart of all the earth, Chequer'd with all complexions of mankind, And spotted with all crimes; in whom I see Much that I love, and more that I admire, And all that I abhor; thou freckled fair, That pleasest and yet shoek'st me, I can laugh, And I can weep, can hope, and can despond, Feel wrath and pity, when I think on thee ! Ten righteous would have sav'd a city once, And thou hast many righteous.-Well for thee That salt preserves thee; more corrupted else, And therefore more obnoxious, at this hour, Than Sodom in her day had pow'r to be, For whom God heard his Abr’ham plead in vain.

THE TASK.

BOOK IV.

THE WINTER EVENING.

ARGUMENT OF THE FOURTH BOOK.

The post comes in.-The newspaper is read. The world contemplated

at a distance.-Address to Winter --The rural amusements of a winter evening compared with the fashionable ones.-Address to Evening.-A brown study.-Fall of snow in the evening.–The waggoner.-A poor family piece.--The rural thief.-Public houses. The multitude of them censured.—The farmer's daughter : what she was-what she is.-The simplicity of country manners almost lost.-Causes of the change.-Desertion of the country by the rich.- Neglect of magistrates. The militia principally in fault.-The new

recruit and his transforınation.-Reflection on bodies corporate.-The love of rural objects natural to all, and never to be totally extinguished.

HARK ! 'tis the twanging horn o’er yonder bridge,
That with its wearisome but needful length
Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the Moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright;
He comes the herald of a noisy world,
With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks;
News from all nations lumb’ring at his back.
True to his charge the close-pack'd load behind,
Yet careless what he brings, his one concern
Is to conduct it to the destin'd inn :
And, having dropp'd th' expected bag, pass on..
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted

wretch,

Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some;
To him indiff'rent whether grief or joy.
Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks,
Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet
With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheeks
Fast as the periods from his fluent quill,
Or charg'd with am'rous sighs of absent swains,
Or nymphs responsive, equally affect
His horse and him, unconscious of them all.
But, 0, th' important budget! usher'd in
With such heart-shaking music, who can say
What are its tidings? have our troops awak'd ?
Or do they still, as if with opium druggid,
Snore to the murmurs of th' Atlantic wave?
Is India free? and does she wear her plum’d
And jewell'd turban with a smile of

peace,
Or do we grind her still ? The grand debate,
The popular harangue, the tart reply,
The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit,
And the loud laugh- ! long to know them all;
I burn to set th' imprison'd wranglers free,
And give them voice and utt'rance once again.

Now stir the firs, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful ev'ning in.
Not such his ev'ning, who, with shining face
Sweats in the crowded theatre, and squeez'd
And bord with elbow-points through both his sides,
Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage :
Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb,
And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath
Of patriots, bursting with heroic rage,
Or placeman all tranquillity and smiles.
This folio of four pages, happy work!

Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds me hi
Inquisitive Attention, while I read, stes are
Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, 1
Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break;
What is it, but a map of busy life, adibdi
Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns ? 297
Here runs the mountainous and craggy ridge,
That tempts Ambition. On the summit see
The seals of office glitter in his eyes;
He climbs, he pants, he grasps them! At his heels,
Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends,
And with a dex’trous jerk, soon twists him down,
And wins them, but to lose them in his turn.
Here rills of oily eloquence in soft and a 10
Meanders lubricate the course they take;
The modest speaker is asham'd and griev'd, al
T engross a moment's notice; and yet begs,
Begs a propitious ear for his poor thoughts,
However trivial all that he conceives.
Sweet bashfulness! it claims at least this praise ;
The dearth of information and good sense,
That it foretells us, always comes to pass.
Catracts of declamation thunder here;
There forests of no meaning spread the page,
In which all comprehension wanders lost;
While fields of pleasantry amuse us there
With merry descants on a nation's woes. is awal
The rest appears a wilderness of strangers
But gay confusion; roses for the cheeks,
And lilies for the brows of faded age,
Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald,
Heav'n, earth, and ocean, plunderd of their sweets,
Nectareous essences, Olympian dews,
Sermons, and city feasts, and fav’rite airs,
Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits, no tedbi
And Katerfelto, with his hair on-end tot

his own wonders, wond'ring for his bread.
's pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat,

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To peep at such a world; to see the stir
Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd;
To hear the roar she sends through all her gates
At a safe distance, where the dying sound
Falls a soft murmur on th' uninjur'd ear.
Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease
The globe and its concerns, I seem advanc'd
To some secure and more than mortal height,
That lib’rates and exempts me from them all.
It turns submitted to my view, turns round
With all its generations; I behold
The tumult, and am still. The sound of war
Has lost its terrors ere it reaches me ;
Grieves, but alarms me not. I mourn the pride
And av'rice, that makes man a wolf to man;
Here the faint echo of those brazen throats,
By which he speaks the language of his heart,
And sigh, but never tremble at the sound.
He travels and expatiates, as the bee
From flow'r to flow'r, so he from land to land;
The manners, customs, policy, of all
Pay contribution to the store he gleans;
He sucks intelligence in ev'ry clime,
And spreads the honey of his deep research
At his return a rich repast for me.
He travels, and I too. I tread his deck,
Ascend his topmast, through his peering eyes
Discover countries, with a kindred heart
Suffer his woes, and share in his escapes;
While fancy, like the finger of a clock,
Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.

0, Winter, ruler of th' inverted year,
Thy scatter'd hair with sleet like ashes fillid,
Thy breath congeal’d upon thy lips, thy cheeks
Fring’d with a beard made white with other snows
Than those of age, thy forehead wrapp'd in clouds,
A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne
A sliding car, indebted to no wheels,

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