Classic Poem

XXVI.

Touch'd by Thee, May , the Flocks and lusty Droves
That low in Pastures, or on Mountains bleat,
Revive their Frolicks and renew their Loves,
Stung to the Marrow with a generous Heat.
The stately Courser, bounding o'er the Plain,
Shakes to the Winds the Honours of his Mane,
(High-arch'd his Neck) and, snuffing, hopes the dappled Train.

XXVII.

The aireal Songsters sooth the list'ning Groves:
The mellow Thrush, the Ouzle sweetly shrill,
And little Linnet celebrate their Loves
In Hawthorn Valley, or on tufted Hill;
The soaring Lark, the lowly Nightingale,
A Thorn her Pillow, trills her doleful Tale,
And melancholy Musick dies along the Dale.

XXVIII.

This gay Exuberance of gorgeous Spring,
The gilded Mountain, and the herbag'd Vale,
The Woods that blossom, and the Birds that sing,
The murmuring Fountain and the breathing Dale:
The Dale, the Fountains, Birds and Woods delight,
The Vales, the Mountains and the Spring invite,
Yet unadorn'd by May , no longer charm the Sight.

XXIX.

When Nature laughs around, shall Man alone,
Thy Image, hang (ah me!) the sickly Head?
When Nature sings, shall Nature's Glory groan,
And languish for the Pittance poor of Bread!
O may the Man that shall his Image scorn,
Alive, be ground with Hunger, most forlorn,
Die unanell'd, and dead, by Dogs and Kites be torn.

XXX.

Curs'd may He be (as if he were not so.)
Nay doubly curs'd be such a Breast of Steel,
Which never melted at Another's Woe,
Nor Tenderness of Bowels knew to feel.
His Heart is black as Hell, in flowing Store
Who hears the Needy crying at his Door,
Who hears Them cry, ne recks; but suffers them be Poor.