Sing, philosophie Muse! the dire effects
Of this contagious bite on hapless man.
The rustic swains, by long tradition taught
Of leeches old, as soon as they perceive
The bite impress, to the sea-coasts repair.
Plung'd in the briny flood, th' unhappy youth
Now journeys home secure, but soon shall wish
The seas as yet had cover'd him beneath
The foaming surge full many a fathom deep.
A fate more dismal, and superior ills,
Hang o'er his head devoted. When the moon,
Closing her monthly round, returns again
To glad the night, or when full-orb'd she shines
High in the vault of heaven, the lurking pest
Begins the dire assault. The pois'nous foam,
Thro' the deep wound instill'd with hostile rage,
And all its fiery particles saline,
Invades th' arterial fluid, whose red waves
Tempestuous heave, and, their cohesion broke,
Fermenting, boil; intestine war ensues,
And order to confusion turns embroil'd.
Now the distended vessels scarce contain
The wild uproar, but press each weaker part,
Unable to resist: the tender brain
And stomach suffer most: convulsions shake
His trembling nerves, and wand'ring pungent
pains

The wound: spare nor thy flesh, nordreadth'event: But skim with wanton wing th' irriguous vale
Vulcan shall save when Esculapius fails. [means Where winding streams amid the flow'ry mead>
Here should the knowing Muse recount the Perpetual glide along, and undermine
The cavern'd banks, by the tenacious roots
To stop this growing plague: and here, alas!
Each hand presents a sov reign cure and boasts Of hoary willows arch'd, gloomy retreat
Of the bright scaly kind, where they at will
Infallibility; but boasts in vain.
On the green watry recd, their pasture gaze;
On this dependeach to his sep'rate scat
Suck the moist soil; or slumber at their ease,
Confine, in fetters bound; give each his mess
Rock'd by the restless brook that draws aslope
Apart, his range in open air: and then
Its humid train, and laves their dark abodes.
If deadly symptoms to thy grief appear,
Where rages not oppression? where, alas!
Devote the wretch, and let him greatly fall,
Is Innocence secure? Rapine and Spoil
A gen'rous victim for the public weal.
Haunte'enthelowestdeeps; seas have theirsharks,
Rivers and ponds inclose the rav'nous pike;
He in his turn becomes a prey, on him
Th' amphibious otter feasts. Just is his fate
Deserv'd: but tyrants knowno bounds; nor spears,
That bristle on his back, defend the perch
From his wide greedy jaws ; nor burnish'd mail
The yellow carp; nor all his arts can save
Th' insinuating eel, that hides his head
Beneath the slimy mud; nor yet escapes
Without remorse
The crimson-spotted trout, the river's pride,
And beauty of the stream.
This midnight pillager, raging around,
Insatiate, swallows all. The owner mourns
Th' unpeopled rivullet, and gladly hears
The huntsman's early call, and sees with joy
The jovial crew, that march upon its banks
In gay parade, with bearded lances arm'd.

This subule spoiler, of the beaver kind,
Far off perhaps, where antient alders shade
The deep still pool, within some hollow trunk
Contrives his wicker couch, whence he surveys
His long purlieu, lord of the stream, and all
The finny shoals his own. But you, brave youths!
Dispute the felon's claim; try ev'ry root,
And ev'ry reedy bank; encourage all
The busy spreading pack, that fearless plunge
Into the flood, and cross the rapid stream.
Bid rocks and caves, and each resounding shore,
Proclaim your bold defiance! loudly raise
Each cheering voice, till distant hills repeat
On the soft sand
The triumphs of the vale.
See there his seal impress'd! and on that bank
Behold the glitt ring spoils, half-eaten fish,
Scales, fins, and bones, the leavings of his feast.
Ah! on that yielding sag-bed, see, once more
dank rushy marsh
His scal I view. O'er yon
The sly goose-footed prowler bends his course,
And seeks the distant shallows. Huntsman,bring
Thy cager pack, and trail him to his couch
Hark! the loud peal begins, the clam'rous joy,
The gallant chiding, loads the trembling air.

Ye Naiads fair, who o'er these floods preside,
Raise up your dripping heads above the wave,
And hear our melody. The harmonious notes
Float with the stream, and ev'ry winding creck
And hollow rock, that e'er the dimpling flood
Nods pendant, still improve from shore to shore
Our sweet reiterated joys. What shouts !
What clamor loud! what gay heart-cheering

sounds

Pinch sore the sleepless wretch: his flutt'ring pulse
Oft intermits; pensive and sad, he mourns
His cruel fate, and to his weeping friends
Laments in vain; to hasty anger prone,
Resents each slight offence, walks with quick step,
And wildly stares: at last with boundless sway
The tyrant phrensy reigns; for as the dog
Whose fatal bite convey'd th' infectious bane,
Raving he foams, and howls, and barks, and bites.
Like agitations in his boiling blood
Present like species to his troubled mind,
His nature and his actions all canine.
So (as old Homer sung) th' associates wild
Of wand'ring Ithacus, by Circe's charms
To swine transform'd, ran grunting thro' the
Dreadful example to a wicked world! [groves.
See there distress'd he lies! parch'd up with thirst,
But dares not drink; till now at last his soul
Trembling escapes, her noisome dungeon leaves,
And to some purer region wings away.

One labor yet remains, celestial Maid!
Another element demands thy song.
No more o'er craggy steeps, thro' coverts thick
With pointed thorn, and briers intricate,
Urge on with horn and voice the painful pack,Urge thro' the breathing brass their mazy way!

Not

Not choirs of Tritons gald with sprightlier strains | Nor Titan's lively tints, adorn our walls?
The dancing billows, when proud Neptune rides Yet these the meanest of us may behold,
In triumph o'er the deep. How greedily And at another's cost may feast at will
They snuff the fishy steam that to each blade
Our wond'ring eyes: what can the ownermore?
Rank-sceming clings! See how the morning dews But vain, alas! is wealth not grac'd with pow'r.
Theysweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop The flow'ry landscape and the gilded dome,
Dispers'd, and leave a track oblique behind. And vistas op'ning to the wearied eye.
Now on firm land they range; then in the flood Thro' all his wide domain; the planted grove,
They plunge tumultuous, or thro' reedy pools The shrubby wilderness, with its gay choir
Rustling they work their way: no hole escapes Of warbling birds, can't lull to soft repose
Their curious search. With quick sensation now Th'ambitious wretch, whose discontented soul
The fuming vapor stings; flutter their hearts, Is harrow'd day and night he mourns, he pines,
And joy redouble bursts from ev'ry mouth Until his prince's favor makes him great.
In louder symphonies. Yon hollow trunk, See there he comes, th' exalted idol comes!
That with its hoary head incurv'd salutes The circle's form'd, and all his fawning slaves
The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort, Devoutly bow to earth; from ev'ry mouth
And dread abode. How these impatient climb, The nauseous flatt'ry flows, which he returns
While others at the root incessant bay!
With promises that die as soon as born.
They put him down. See, there he dives along! Vile intercourse! where Virtue has no place.
Th'ascending bubbles mark his gloomy way. Frown but the monarch, all his glories fade;
Quick fix the nets, and cut off his retreat He mingles with the throng, outcast, undone,
Into the shelt'ring deeps. Ah! there he vents! The pageant of a day; without one friend
The pack plunge headlong, and protendedspears To sooth his tortur'd mind; all, all are fled;
Menace destruction, while the troubled surge For tho' they bask’d in his meridian ray,
Indignant foams, and all the scaly kind
The insects vanish as his beams decline.
Affrighted hide their heads. Wild tumult reigns,
And loud uproar. Ah! there once more he vents!
See! that bold hound has seis'd him; down they
sink,

Together lost; but soon shall he repent
His rash assault. See! there escap'd he flies
Half drown'd, and clambers up the slippery bank,
With ouze and blood distain'd. Of all the brutes,
Whether by nature form'd, or by long use,
This artful diver best can bear the want
Of vital air. Unequal is the fight
Beneath the whelming element: yet there
He lives not long, but respiration needs
At proper intervals. Again he vents;
Again the crowd attack. That spear has pierc'd
His neck, the crimson waves confess the wound,
Fix'd is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest,
Where'er he flies; with him it sinks beneath,
With him it mounts; sure guide to ev'ry foe.
Inly he groans, nor can his tender wound
Bear the cold stream. Lo! to yon sedgy bank
He creeps disconsolate: his num'rous foes
Surround him, hounds and men. Piere'd thro'
and thro'

On pointed spears they lift him high in air ;
Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain.
Bid the loud horns, in gaily-warbling strains,
Proclaim the felon's fate. He dies! he dies!

Rejoice ye scaly tribes! and leaping dance
Above the wave, in sign of liberty
Restor'd; the cruel tyrant is no more.
Rejoice, secure and blest, did not as yet
Remain some of your own rapacious kind,
And man, fierce man! with all his various wiles

O happy, if ye knew your happy state,
Ye rangers of the fields! whom Nature boon
Cheers with her smiles, and ev'ry element
Conspires to bless. What if no heroes frown
From marble pedestals, nor Raphael's works,

Not such our friends; for here no dark design,
No wicked int'rest, bribes the renal heart;
But inclination to our bosoms leads,
And weds them there for life; our social cups
Smile as we smile; open and unreserv'd,
We speak our inmost souls; good-humor, mirth,
Soft complaisance, and wit from malice free,
Smooth ev'ry brow, and glow from ev'ry cheek.

O happiness sincere! what wretch would groan
Beneath the galling load of pow'r, or walk
Upon the slipp'ry pavements of the great,
Who thus could reign unenvied and secure?
Ye guardian Pow'rs, who make mankind your

care,

Give me to know wise Nature's hidden depths,
Trace each mysterious cause, withjudgementread
Th' expanded volume, and submiss adore
That great creative Will, who at a word
Spoke forth the wond'rous scene. But if my soul,
To this gross clay confin'd, flutters on earth
With less ambitious wing, unskill'd to range
From orb to orb, where Newton leads the way,
And view with piercing eyes the grand machine,
Worlds above worlds; subservient to his voice
Who, veil'd in clouded majesty, alone
Gives light to all, bids the great system move,
And changeful seasons in their turns advance,
Unmov'd, unchang'd, himself; yet this at leas
Grant me propitious-an inglorious life
Calm and serene, nor lost in false pursuits
Of wealth or honors; but enough to raise
My drooping friends, preventing modest want
That dares not ask: and if, to crown my joys,
Ye grant me health, that, ruddy in my cheeks,
Blooms in my life's decline; fields, woods, and

streams,

Each tow'ring hill, each humble vale below,
Shall hear mycheeringvoice: myhounds shallwake
The lazy morn, and glad th' horizon round.

§ 50. Rural Sports; a Georgic. GAY. Inscribed to Mr. POPE, 1713*.

"--securi prælia ruris "Pandimus."

When heifers seek the shade and cooling lake,
And in the middle path-way basks the snake;
O lead me, guard me from the sultry hours,
Hide me, ye forests, in your closest bow'rs,,
Where the tall oak his spreading arms entwines,
And with the heech a mutual shade combines ;
Where flowsthemurm'ringbrook inviting dreams
Whose rolling current winding round and round,
Where bordering hazel overhangs the streams,
With frequent falls makes all the wood resound;
Upon the mossy couch my limbs I cast,
And e'en at noon the sweets of ev'ning taste.

Here I peruse the Mantuan's Georgie strains,
And learn the labors of Italian swain's;
In ev'ry page I see new landscapes rise,
And all Hesperia opens to my eyes;

I wander o'er the various rural toil,
And know the nature of each diffrent soil :
This waving field is gilded o'er with corn,
That spreading trees with blushing fruit adorn :
Here I survey the purple vintage grow,
Climb round the poles, and rise in graceful row:
Now I behold the steed curvet and bound,
And paw with restless hoof the smoking ground:
The dewlapp'd bull now chafes along the plain,
While burning love ferments in ev'ry vein;
His well-arm'd front against his rival aims,
And by the dint of war his mistress claims:
The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flow'rs exhaust the fragrant dew;
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies;
Some against hostile drones the hive defend;
Others with sweets the waxen cells distend:
Each in the toil his destin'd office bears,
And in the little bulk a mighty soul appears.
Or when the ploughman leaves the task of day,
And trudging homeward whistles on the way;
When the big-udder'd cows with patience stand,
Waiting the strokings of the damsel's hand;
No warbling cheers the woods; the feather'dchoir,
To court kind slumbers, to the sprays retire:
When no rude gale disturbs the sleeping trees,
Nor aspen leaves confess the gentlest breeze;
Engag'd in thought, to Neptune's bounds I stray,
To take my farewell of the parting day;
Far in the deep the sun his glory hides,
A streak of gold the sea and sky divides:
The purple clouds their amber linings show,
And edg'd with flame rolls ev'ry wave below:
Here pensive I behold the fading light,
And o'er the distant billow lose my sight.

Now Night in silent state begins to rise,
And twinkling orbs bestrew th' uncloudy skies;
Her borrow'd lustre-growing Cynthia lends,
And on the main a glitt'ring path extends ;
Millions of worlds bang in the spacious air;
Which round their suns their annual circles steer;
Sweet contemplation elevates my sense,
While I survey the works of Providence.
O could the Muse in loftier strains rehearse
Pho-The glorious Author of the universe,

Who reins the winds, gives the vast ocean bounds,
Andcircumscribesthe floating worlds their rounds

My

NEMESIAN.

CANTO I.

You, who the sweetsof rural life have known,
Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the town;
In Windsor groves your easy hours employ,
And, undisturb'd, yourself and Muse enjoy.
Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows,
And no rude wind through rustling osier blows;
While all his wond'ring nymphs around thee
To hear the Syrens warble in thy song. [throng,
But I, who ne'er was blest by fortune's hand,
Nor brighten'd ploughshare in paternal land,
Long in the noisy town have been immur'd,
Respir'd its smoke, and all its cares endur'd;
Where news and politics divide mankind,
And schemes of state involve th' uneasy mind;
Faction embroils the world; and ev'ry tongue
Is mov'd by flatt'ry, or with scandal hung:
Friendship, for sylvan shades, the palace flies,
Where all must yield to int'rest's dearer ties;
Each rival Machiavel with envy burns,
And honesty forsakes them all by turns;
While calumny upon each party's thrown:
Which both promote, and both alike disown.
Fatigued at last, a calm retreat I choose,
And sooth'd the harass'd mind with sweet repose,
Wherefields and shades, and the refreshing clime,
Inspire the sylvan song, and prompt my rhyme,
My Muse shall rove through flow'ry meads and
plains,

And deck with rural sports her native strains;
And the same road ambitiously pursue,
Frequented by the Mantuan swain and you.

Tis not that rural sports alone invite,
But all the grateful country breathes delight;
Her blooming health exerts her gentle reign,
And strings the sinews of th' industrious swain.
Soon as the morning lark salutes the day,
Through dewy fields I take my frequent way,
Where I behold the farmer's early care
In the revolving labors of the year.
When the fresh Spring in all her state is crown'd,
And high luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground,
The laborer with a bending scythe is seen,
Shaving the surface of the waving green;
Of all her native pride disrobes the land,
And meads lays waste before his sweeping hand;
While with the mounting sun the meadow glows,
The fading herbage round he loosely throws:
But, if some sign portend a lasting show'r,
Th experienc'd swain foresees the coming hour,
His sun-burnt hands the scatt'ring fork forsake,
And ruddy damsels ply the saving rake;
In rising hills the fragrant harvest grows,
And spreads along the field in equal rows.
Now when the height of heaven bright
bus gains,
And level rays cleave wide the thirsty plains;

This Poem received many material corrections from the Author after it was first published.

Ce

The flutt'ring coveys from the stubble rise,
And on swift wing divide the sounding skies;
The scatt'ring lead pursues the certain sight,
And death in thunder overtakes their flight.
Cool breathes the morning air, and Winter's hand
Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land;
Now to the copse thy lesser spaniel take,
Teach him to range the ditch, and forcethebrake;
Not closest coverts can protect the game:
Hark! the dog opens; take thy certain aim.
The woodcock flutters; how he wav'ring flies!
The wood resounds: he wheels, he drops, he
dies.