 | A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects |  |
A Prospect.
'Twas tow'rds the Evening of the Day,
When Books lie still, and Scholars play,
That having got an Hour to spare,
I walked out to take the Air;
To which the Heavens did invite,
With Smiles that promised Delight.
When Books lie still, and Scholars play,
That having got an Hour to spare,
I walked out to take the Air;
To which the Heavens did invite,
With Smiles that promised Delight.
My Walk upon a Bank I took,
Which was the Margin to a Brook,
Whose crystal Streams so small did slide,
As if they fear'd to be descry'd,
Save that a Pebble, here and there,
Whisper'd their Flight into mine Ear.
Which was the Margin to a Brook,
Whose crystal Streams so small did slide,
As if they fear'd to be descry'd,
Save that a Pebble, here and there,
Whisper'd their Flight into mine Ear.
30
Hence I design'd to take a View,
Of Nature in her richest Hue:
Nor should I think my Labour lost
To see the like at double Cost.
The Birds, in various Notes, did sing
A Penegyrick to the Spring;
Each strove, I think, to do her best,
But Philomel excell'd the rest;
The Trees serv'd for a shady Screen,
Hung round with Canopies of green,
And some were here and there imboss'd
With Blossoms, at Dame Nature's Cost,
Which with a gentle Zephyr play'd,
And pretty whist'ling Murmurs made.
Which Way so e'er I turn'd mine Eye,
I saw well-mix'd Variety;
The fine wrought Tap'stry of the Field,
Did many pretty Landscapes yield;
Here Wheat, there Barley, did appear,
Some in the Blade, some in the Ear;
The Pease in Bloom, and Beans in Flow'r,
Stood waiting for a gentle Show'r;
For fear of which, in Haste home flies
The Bee with Honey-laden Thighs.
The Meadows, in their Grass-green Vest,
Methought were very neatly drest,
Not only neat, but richly fraught,
With checquer'd Flowers finely wrought,
Cowslips and Violets intermixt,
And tufted Daises cast betwixt;
Each Object did affect my Sight,
With sweetest innocent Delight.
Of Nature in her richest Hue:
Nor should I think my Labour lost
To see the like at double Cost.
The Birds, in various Notes, did sing
A Penegyrick to the Spring;
Each strove, I think, to do her best,
But Philomel excell'd the rest;
The Trees serv'd for a shady Screen,
Hung round with Canopies of green,
And some were here and there imboss'd
With Blossoms, at Dame Nature's Cost,
Which with a gentle Zephyr play'd,
And pretty whist'ling Murmurs made.
Which Way so e'er I turn'd mine Eye,
I saw well-mix'd Variety;
The fine wrought Tap'stry of the Field,
Did many pretty Landscapes yield;
Here Wheat, there Barley, did appear,
Some in the Blade, some in the Ear;
The Pease in Bloom, and Beans in Flow'r,
Stood waiting for a gentle Show'r;
For fear of which, in Haste home flies
The Bee with Honey-laden Thighs.
31
Methought were very neatly drest,
Not only neat, but richly fraught,
With checquer'd Flowers finely wrought,
Cowslips and Violets intermixt,
And tufted Daises cast betwixt;
Each Object did affect my Sight,
With sweetest innocent Delight.
But stay'd I there? Oh no, my Heart
Cry'd still, Give me the better Part,
Let me with Him for ever live,
That to these Things doth Being give;
Exterior Things may please each Sense,
And be enjoy'd without Offence,
But nothing but a Power divine,
Can make their Virtues truly mine;
Thy Wisdom, therefore so infuse
Into my Heart, that I may use
Thy Creatures as they ought to be,
And still return the Praise to Thee,
To whom the highest Praise is due,
O God most holy, just and true.
Cry'd still, Give me the better Part,
Let me with Him for ever live,
That to these Things doth Being give;
Exterior Things may please each Sense,
And be enjoy'd without Offence,
But nothing but a Power divine,
Can make their Virtues truly mine;
Thy Wisdom, therefore so infuse
Into my Heart, that I may use
Thy Creatures as they ought to be,
And still return the Praise to Thee,
To whom the highest Praise is due,
O God most holy, just and true.
| A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects | |