Who now but meets him mufing, when he roves 245

His ruin'd Tufculan's romantic groves?

In Rome's great forum, who but hears him roll

His moral thunders o'er the subject foul?

And hence that calm delight the portrait gives:

We gaze on every feature till it lives!

250

Still the fond lover views the abfent maid;

And the loft friend ftill lingers in his fhade!

Say why the penfive widow loves to weep, 8
When on her knee she rocks her babe to sleep:
Tremblingly ftill, fhe lifts his veil to trace

255

The father's features in his infant face.

The hoary grandfire fmiles the hour away,

Won by the charm of Innocence at play;

He bends to catch each artless burst of joy,
Forgets his age, and acts again the boy.

260

What tho' the iron fchool of War erafe

Each milder virtue, and each fofter grace;

.

What tho' the fiend's torpedo-touch arrest
Each gentler, finer impulse of the breast;
Still shall this active principle prefide,
And wake the tear to Pity's felf denied.

265

The intrepid Swifs, that guards a foreign shore, Condemn'd to climb his mountain-cliffs no more, If chance he hears the fong fo fweetly wild 9 Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguil'd, 270 Melts at the long-loft scenes that round him rise, And finks a martyr to repentant fighs.

Ask not if courts or camps diffolve the charm: Say why VESPASIAN lov'd his Sabine farm;10

Why great NAVARRE, when France and freedom

bled, 11

Sought the lone limits of a forest-shed.

When DIOCLETIAN's felf-corrected mind 12

The imperial fafces of a world refign'd,

Say why we trace the labours of his spade,

275

In calm Salona's philofophic fhade.

280

Say, when ambitious CHARLES renounc'd a throne, 13

To mufe with monks unletter'd and unknown,

What from his foul the parting tribute drew?

What claim'd the forrows of a laft adieu?

The ftill retreats that footh'd his tranquil breaft, 285

Ere grandeur dazzled, and its cares opprefs'd.

Undamp'd by time, the generous Inftinct glows

Far as Angola's fands, as Zembla's fnows;

Glows in the tiger's den, the ferpent's neft,
On every form of varied life impreft.

The focial tribes its choiceft influence hail:

And, when the drum beats brifkly in the gale,

290

The war-worn courfer charges at the found,

And with young vigour wheels the pasture round.

Oft has the aged tenant of the vale
Lean'd on his ftaff to lengthen out the tale;
Oft have his lips the grateful tribute breath'd,
From fire to fon with pious zeal bequeath'd.

When o'er the blafted heath the day declin'd,

295

And on the fcath'd oak warr'd the winter wind; 300

When not a diftant taper's twinkling ray

Gleam'd o'er the furze to light him on his way;

When not a sheep-bell footh'd his listening ear,

And the big rain-drops told the tempest near;

Then did his horfe the homeward track defcry, 14 305

The track that shunn'd his fad, inquiring eye;

And win each wavering purpose to relent,

With warmth fo mild, fo gently violent,

That his charm'd hand the careless rein refign'd,

And doubts and terrors vanish'd from his mind. 310

Recall the traveller, whofe alter'd form

Has borne the buffet of the mountain-storm;

And who will firft his fond impatience meet?
His faithful dog's already at his feet!

Yes, tho` the porter spurn him from his door, 315
Tho' all, that knew him, know his face no more,

His faithful dog fhall tell his joy to each,

With that mute eloquence which paffes fpeech.

And fee, the master but returns to die!

Yet who shall bid the watchful fervant fly?

320