Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/145

 And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all The stretching landskip into smoke decays! Happy ! where the , Inspiring vigor, abroad Walks, unconfin'd, even to thy farthest cotts, And scatters plenty with unsparing hand.

is thy soil, and merciful thy clime; Thy streams unfailing in the summer's drought; Unmatch'd thy guardian-oaks; thy valleys float With golden waves: and on thy mountains fllocksflocks [sic] Bleat numberless; while roving round their sides, Bellow the blackening herds in lusty droves. Beneath, thy meadows glow, and rise unquell'd Against the mower's scythe. On every hand, Thy villas shine. Thy country teems with wealth; And property assures it to the swain, Pleas'd, and unwearied, in his guarded toil.

are thy cities with the sons of art; And trade and joy, in every busy street, Mingling are heard: even drudgery him self, As at the car he sweats, or dusty hews The palace-stone, looks gay. Thy crouded ports, Where rising masts an endless prospect yield, With labour burn, and echo to the shouts Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves His last adieu, and loosening every sheet, Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind.

, firm, and graceful, are thy generous youth; By hardship sinew'd, and by danger fir'd, Scattering the nations where they go; and first Or