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Besides this great advantage-if in debt,
You'll have with creditors no tête-à-tête :

So leave the bull-dog bailiffs all behind;
Who hunt you, with what nose they may,
Must hunt for needles in a lack of hay.

The SOUTH SEA ISLANDERS COMPASSIONATED, but

chiefly OMAI.

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(From the “Task,” in the Second Volume of Mr. Cowper's Poems.)

V’N the favor'd isles

So lately found, although the constant fun
Cheer all their seasons with a grateful smile,
Can boast but little virtue ; and inert
Through plenty, lose in morals what they gain
In manners, victims of luxurious ease.
These therefore I can pity, placed remote
From all that science traces, are invents,
Or inspiration teaches; and inclosed
In boundless oceans never to be pass'd
By navigators uninformed as they,
Or plough'd perhaps by British bark again.
But far beyond the rest, and with most cause,
Thee, gentle savage *, whom no love of thee
Or thine, but curiofity perhaps,
Or else vain-glory, prompted us to draw
Forth from thy native bow'rs, to show thee here
With what superior skill we can abuse
The gifts of Providence, and squander life.
The dream is past. And thou hast found again
Thy cocoas and bananas, palms and yams,
And homestall thatch'd with leaves. But halt thou found
Their former charms? And having seen our state,
Our palaces, our ladies, and our pomp
Of equipage, our gardens, and our sports,
And heard our music; are thy simple friends,
Thy fimple fare, and all thy plain delights,
As dear to thee as once? And have thy joys
Loft nothing by comparison with ours?
Rude as thou art (for we return'd thee rude
And ignorant, except of outward show)
I cannot think thee yet so dull of heart
And spiritless, as never to regret
Sweets tasted here, and left as soon as known.
Methinks I see thee straying on the beach,
And alking of the surge that bathes thy foot,

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:

His wrath is busy and his frown is felt.
The rocks fall headlong and the vallies rise,
The rivers die into ofienfive pools,
And, charged with putrid verdure, breathe a grofs
And mortal nuisance into all the air.
What felid was, by transformation strange
Grows fluid, and the fixt apd rooted earth
Tormented into billows heaves and swells,
Or with vortiginous and hideous whirl
Sucks down its prey infatiable. Immense
The tumult and the overthrow, the pings
And agonics of human and of brute
Multitudes, fugitive on every fide,
And fugitive in vain. The tylvan scene
Migrates uplifted, and with all its foil
Alighting in far distant fields, finds out
A new posletfor, and survires the change.
Oce:in has caught the frenzy, and upwrought
To an enormous and o'erbearing height,
Not by a mighty wind, but by that voice
Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore
Refiftless. Never such a sudden flood,
Upridged so high, and sent on such a charge,
Poffels'd an inland scene. Where now the throng
That press's the beach, and hasty to depart,
Look'd to the sea for safety. They are gone,
Gone with the refluent wave into the deep,
A prince with half his people. Ancient tow'rs,
And roofs embattled high, the gloomy Scenes
Where beauty oft and letter'd worth consume
Life in the unproductive shades of death,
Fall prone ; the pale inhabitants come farth,
And, happy in their unforeseen release
From all the rigors of restraint, enjoy
The terrors of the day that sets them free.
Who then that has thee, would not hold thee fast,
Freedom! whom they that lose thee so regret,
That ev'n a judgment making way for thee,
Seems in their eyes a mercy for thy fake.

DOMESTIC LIFE in the COUNTRY.

(From the same Poem.)

, peace,

H friendly to the best pursuits of man,

Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace,
Domnestic life, in rural leisure pass'd!
Few know thy value, and few talle thy sweets,
Though many boat thy favours, and átfeat

Ra

то

Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
With stripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart
Weeps when the fees inflicted on a bea it.
Then what is man? And what man seeing this,
And having human feelings, does not blush
And hang his head, to think himself a man?
I would not have a llave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me. while I fleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That finews bought and cold have ever earn'd.
No: dear as freedom is, and in my heart's
Just estimation priz'd above all price,
I had much rather be myself the slave,
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.
We have no slaves at home-Then why abroad?
And they themselves once ferried o'er the wave,
That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd.
Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs
Reccive our air, that moment they are fret,
They touch our country, and their thackles fall.
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
And jealous of the blefing. Spread it then,
And let it circulate through ev'ry vein
Of all your empire. That where Britain's power
Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.

SICIL

AN

EARTHQUAKES,

[From the same Poem.)
A Lie featteria where the mapely coĽumn ftood.
Her palaces are duft. In all her streets
The voice of finging and the sprightly chord
Are filent Revelry, and dance, and show
Suffer a fyncope and folemn pause,
While God performs upon the trembling stage
Of his own works, his dreadful part alone.
How does the earth receive him?With what signs
Of gratulation and delight, her king ?
Pours the not all her choicest fruits abroad,
Her sweetest flow'rs, her aromatic gums,
Disclosing paradise where'er he treads ?
She quakes at his approach. Her hollow womb,
Conceiving thunders through a thousand deeps
And fiery carerns, roars beneath his fdor.

The hills more lightly and the mountains smoke,
For he has touch'd them. From th'extremest point
Of clevation down into th' abyss,

HS

1

His wrath is busy and his frown is felt.
The rocks fall headlong and the vallies rise,
The rivers die into offensive pools,
And, charged with putrid verdure, breathe a grofs
And mortal nuisance into all the air.
What tilid was, by transformation strange
Grows fluid, and the fixt and rooted earth
Tormented into billows hearcs and swells,
Or with vortiginous and hideous whirl
Sucks down its prey insatiable. Immense
The tumult and the overthrow, the pangs
And agonies of human and of brute
Multitudes, fugitive on every fide,
And fugitive in vain. The Tylvan scene
Migrates uplifted, and with all its foil
Alighting in far distant fields, finds out
A new poffeffor, and survives the change.
Ocean has caught the frenzy, and upwrought
To an enormous and o'erbearing height,
Not by a mighty wind, but by chat voice
Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore
Refiftless. Never such a sudden flood,
Upridged so high, and sent on such a charge,
Postess’d an inland scene. Where now the throng
That press'd the beach, and hasty to depart,
Look'd to the sea for safety. They are gone,
Gone with the refluent wave into the deep,
A prince with half his people. Ancient tow'rs,
And roofs embattled high, the gloomy fcenes
Where beauty oft and letter'd worth consume
Life in the unproductive shades of death,
Fall prone ; the pale inhabitants come farth,
And, happy in their unforeseen release
From all the rigors of restraint, enjoy
The terrors of the day that sets them free.
Who then that has thee, would not hold thee faste
Freedom ! whom they that life thee so regret,
That ev'n a judgment making way for thee,
Seems in their eyes a mercy for thy fake.

DOMESTIC LIFE in the COUNTRY.

[From the same Poem.)
H friendly to the best pursuits of man,

Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace,
Doinestic life, in rural leisure pass'd!
Few know thy value, and few talle thy sweets,
Though many boail thy favours, and átfeet

Ra

то

To understand and chuse thee for their own.
But foolish man foregoes his proper bliss
Ev'n as his first progenitor, and quits,
Though placed in paradise (for earth has still
Some traces of her youthful beauty left)
Substantial happiness for transient joy:
Scenes form’d for contemplation, and to nurse
The growing seeds of wisdom ; that suggeft,
By ev'ry pleasing image they present,
Reflections such as meliorate the heart,
Compose the pailions, and exalt the mind;
Scenes such as these, 'ris his supreme delight
'To fill with riot and defile with blood.
Should some contagion kind to the poor brures
We perfecute, annihilate the tribes
That draw the sportsman over hill and dale
Fearless, and rapt away from all his cares ;
Should never game-toul hatch her eggs again,
Nor baited hook deceive the fishes eye;
Could pageantry, and dance, and feast and fong
Be quell'd in all our suamer-month retreats;
How many felt-deiuded nympha and swains,
Who dream they have a taste for fields and groves,
Would find them hideous nurs’ries of the spleen,
And crord the roads, impatient for the town!
They love the country, and none else, who seek
For their own like its filence and its shade.
Delights which who would leave, that has a heart
Susceptible of pity, or a mind
Cultured and capable of sober thought,
For all the savage din of the swift pack
And clamours of the field ? detefted sport,
That owes its pleasures to another's pain,
That feeds upon the fobs and dying shrieks
Of harmless nature, dumb, but yet endued
With eloquence that agonies inspire
Of filent tears and heart-diftending fighs!
Vain tears, alas! and lighs that never find
A corresponding tone in jovial souls.
Well-one at least is safe. One shelter'd haré
Has never heard the sanguinary yell
Of cruel man, exulting in her woes.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home,
Whom ten long years experience of my care
Has made at last familiar, she has lost
Much of her vigilant instinctive dread,
Not nredful here, beneath a roof like mine.
Yesothou mayest eat thy bread, and lick the hand
That feeds thee; thou may'lt frolic on the floor
At evening, and at night retire secure

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