 | The Works of Mr. Henry Needler |  |
A Description of a Summer-Night in the Country.
Stretch'd on his homely Bed, the weary'd HindNow sleeps secure; no Cares disturb his Mind:
No Use of Down or Opiate Drugs he knows;
His wholesom Labour gives a sweet Repose.
The Beasts and Birds are now retir'd to Rest,
Those to their grassy Couch, These to their Nest.
The Winds too are asleep, and scarcely move
Thro' the still Horrour of the gloomy Grove.
Now pearly Dews refresh the gelid Air,
And kindly Nature's vital Juice repair.
All's hush'd; and universal Silence reigns,
Save where the mournful Nightingale complains,
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At the shrill Screeking of foreboding Owls.
Deckt with unrivall'd Beams, the silver Moon
Has wheel'd her rolling Orb to Night's pale Noon,
Temp'ring the Darkness with so bright a Ray,
As might almost compare with that of Day;
Whilst thousand lesser Lights with Her combine,
And All in one united Splendour shine.
Nor Heav'n alone those radiant Beauties knows;
Each Bush with num'rous living Spangles glows,
Diffusing all around a Lustre far,
Such as might guide the wand'ring Traveller.
As if a Show'r of Stars from yonder Sky
Had fall'n, and Earth design'd with Heav'n to vie.
| The Works of Mr. Henry Needler | |