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And painted walls enchant the gazer's eyes:
Whofe table flows with hofpitable cheer,
And all the various bounties of the year;

Whofe yallies fmile, whofe gardens breathe the Spring,
Whose carved mountains bleat, and forests fing,
For whom the cooling fhade in Summer twines,
While his full cellars give their generous wines;
From whofe wide fields unbounded Autumn pours
A golden tide into his swelling ftores:

Whofe Winter laughs; for whom the liberal gales
Stretch the big fheet, and toiling commerce fails;
When yielding crowds attend and pleasure serves,
While youth, and health, and vigour ftring his nerves,
Ee'n not all thefe, in one rich lot combin'd,
Can make the happy man, without the Mind;
Where judgment fits, clear-fighted, and furveys
The chain of reafon, with unerring gaze;
Where Fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes,
His fairer fcenes and bolder figures rise ;
Where focial love exerts her foft command,
And plays the paffions with a tender hand;
Whence every virtue flows, in rival ftrife,
And all the moral harmony of life. -

A

Nor canft thou, Doddington, this truth decline,
Thine is the fortune, and the mind is thine..

THOMSON.

At forty-two, his eyes grave wisdom wear,
And the dark future dims him o'er with care:
On to the nine-and-fortieth, toils increase,
And bufy hopes and fears disturb his peace;
At fifty-fix, cool reason reigns entire,
Then life burns fteady, and with tem'prate fire;
But fixty-three unbinds the body's strength,
Ere the unwearied mind has run her length;
And when from feventy, age furveys its laft,
Tir'd the ftops short-and wishes all were past.

HILL.

THE CREATOR's WORKS MANIFEST HIS POWER..

THE fpacious firmament on high,
With all the blue etherial sky,

And spangled heav'ns, a fhining frame,

Their great Original proclaim :

Th' unwearied fun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power difplay,

And publishes to ev'ry land,

The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale
And, nightly, to the list'ning earth,
Repeats the story of her birth:

Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,

Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And fpread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in folemn filence, all
Move round the dark terreftrial ball!
What tho' nor real voice nor found,
Amid their radiant orbs be found!
In Reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever finging as they fhine-

"The hand that made us is Divine."

ADDISON.

THE IGNORANCE OF MAN.

BEHOLD, yon new-born infant, griev❜d
With hunger, thirst, and pain,
That afks to have the wants reliev'd,

It knows not to complain.

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Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale
And, nightly, to the list'ning earth,
Repeats the ftory of her birth:

Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,

Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And fpread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in folemn filence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball!
What tho' nor real voice nor found,
Amid their radiant orbs be found!
In Reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,

For ever finging as they fhine

"The hand that made us is Divine."

ADDISON.

THE IGNORANCE OF MAN.

BEHOLD, yon new-born infant, griev❜d
With hunger, thirst, and pain,

That afks to have the wants reliev'd,

It knows not to complain.

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