When ideas have any relation whatever, they are attractive of each other in the mind; and the

perception of any object naturally leads to the idea of another which was connected with it either in time or place, or which can be compared or contrafted with it. Hence arifes our attachment to inanimate objects; hence also, in fome degree, the love of our country, and the emotion with which we contemplate the celebrated fcenes of antiquity. Hence a picture directs our thoughts to the original: and, as cold and darkness suggest forcibly the ideas of heat and light, he, who feels the infirmities of age, dwells most on whatever reminds him of the vigour and vivacity of his youth.

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ANALYSIS OF THE FIRST PART.

The affociating principle, as here employed, is no lefs conducive to virtue than to happinefs; and, as fuch, it frequently difcovers itself in the moft tumultuous fcenes of life. It addreffes our finer feelings, and gives exercise to every mild and generous propenfity.

Not confined to man, it extends through all animated nature; and its effects are peculiarly ftriking in the domestic tribes.

THE

PLEASURES

F

MEMORY.

PART I.

TWILIGHT

WILIGHT's foft dews fteal o'er the village-green,

With magic tints to harmonize the scene.

Still'd is the hum that thro' the hamlet broke,

"When round the ruins of their ancient oak

The peasants flock'd to hear the minstrel play,

5

And games and carols clos'd the busy day.

Her wheel at reft, the matron charms no more

With treafur'd tales of legendary lore.

All, all are fled; nor mirth nor mufic flows

To chafe the dreams of innocent repose.

All, all are fled; yet ftill I linger here!
What pensive sweets this filent spot endear?

Mark yon old Manfion, frowning thro' the trees, Whofe hollow turret wooes the whistling breeze.

That cafement, arch'd with ivy's brownest shade, 15
First to these eyes the light of heav'n convey'd.

The mouldering gateway ftrews the grass-grown court,
Once the calm fcene of many a fimple fport;
When nature pleas'd, for life itfelf was new,
And the heart promis'd what the fancy drew.

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Childhood's lov'd group revifits every scene,
The tangled wood-walk, and the tufted green!

Indulgent MEMORY wakes, and, lo! they live!
Cloth'd with far fofter hues than Light can give.
Thou laft, best friend that Heav'n affigns below, 85
To footh and fweeten all the cares we know;
Whofe glad fuggeftions ftill each vain alarm,

When nature fades, and life forgets to charm;

Thee would the Muse invoke!—to thee belong

The fage's precept, and the poet's fong.

What foften'd views thy magic glass reveals,

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When o'er the landscape Time's meek twilight steals!

As when in ocean finks the orb of day,

Long on the wave reflected luftres play;

Thy temper'd gleams of happiness refign'd
Glance on the darken'd mirror of the mind.

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