University of Virginia Library

A Sketch of NOON.

The Sun, with radiant splendours in his eye,
Swift roll'd his fiery chariot up the sky;
And as to zenith altitude he rose,
Bright and more bright his dazzling visage glows;
Till, all-refulgent from meridian height,
He pours a flood of glory on the sight.
Through Nature's depths the mighty radiance felt,
Earth seems to smoke, and rocks themselves to melt;
A sickly hue spreads o'er the verdant glade,
And all the landscape's laughing beauties fade;
The languid flow'r reclines its drooping head,
Its fragrant sweets, its deep vermilion fled;
Ev'n Industry, while the strong beam descends,
Faint and relax'd, her half-done task suspends,
And, underneath some lofty range of trees,
Sucks in the vital coolness of the breeze;
The flocks and herds to shelt'ring glooms retreat,
Weary and panting with oppressive heat;
While stretch'd, unactive, on the parch'd-up ground,
His pipe, his crook, his garland, strew'd around;
The sun-burnt shepherd's yielding eyelids close,
And all his senses sink in bland repose:
Silent as death are now the warbling throng,
Not Love itself inspires their various song;
All seek the closest covert of the wood,
Or in cool haunts pick up their scanty food;
Echo too, dormant in her marble grot,
Has half her arts of mimicry forgot;
Ev'n heat-enamour'd swallows quit the air,
And, silent, to their mud-built nests repair:
Nothing is heard but the dull hum of bees,
Or insects buzzing through the blossom'd trees;
The chirp of grasshopper amid the brake,
Or sleep-inviting tinkle of the lake;
Nature herself grows faint, with warmth opprest,
And all Creation sinks supine to rest.
Happy the youth, by no false taste betray'd,
Whom Contemplation leads now to the shade;
Who, unseduc'd by the vile love of pelf,
Can courts despise, and venerate himself;
Of more than crowns possess'd, while he can roam
Through Nature's works, nor ever be from home;
The systems of our earth, and yonder skies,
Glories hid, haply, from the monarch's eyes;
Eternal Wisdom's exquisite display,
While heav'n-born Newton leads the radiant way;
Calls forth fair order, harmony, and light,
From the dark womb of anarchy and night!
Thus, for one paltry kingdom, one poor spot
Almost in Nature's boundless scenes forgot,
Without the gilded gewgaw of a throne,
A thousand he may amply call his own.