Elegy II. Noon

High in the zenith of his wide domain Flames the bright power, that rules the noontide ray, O'er the fierce steeds loose shakes the golden rein, And darts around intolerable day.

Beside his chariot, born with rapid speed, Enfeebling Sweats and paly Languors ride, Wan Sickness, mounted on a sun-beam steed, Flashes her pestilential falchion wide.

The vermeil verdure of th' enamell'd mead, The flocks, the herds, all feel the sultry power, Scorch'd nature fainting droops her languid head, And all creation mourns the fervent hour.

By gelid founts, and rills that purl the glade, Where Dian's sylvan train at noon resort, The Dryad Coolness seeks the sheltering shade, While round her moss-bed balmy breezes sport.

Oft now sequester'd in the lonely dale, Where nought obtruding may their joys prevent, The happy lover sighs the tender tale, While glowing blushes speak the soft consent.

Around the turf ten thousand Cupids play, Or sweetly prattling lisp th' extatic bliss, Short-breathing wishes throng, and romping May, The ruffling dalliance, and the kindling kiss.

With purest truth here artless passion charms, No fraud nor sordid thoughts love's shrine invade, An equal flame each beating bosom warms, No airs distract the swain, nor falshood mourns the maid.

In flowery scenes, where waves the leafy shade, Where woodbine's bloom, and thymy verdure spring, In vacant mood is learned Leisure laid, And to blithe echo sweeps the vocal string.

Or smit with sacred love of antient song, Where art and genius rule with mingled rage, He rolls the raptures of the tuneful throng, That drew with classic skill fair virtue's page.

Now where Augusta lifts her head sublime, And wealthy Commerce holds her honour'd stand, The sons of industry from every clime With Albion's chiefs appear, a motley band.

Beneath th' auspicious beamings of her smile Britannia sees her real glories rise, Calm peace and cheerful plenty crown her isle, To hostile shores while want and terror flies.

And long, lov'd isle, may bounteous heaven pour These gracious blessings on thy favour'd land, And as thou stand'st the first in regal power, In virtue may'st thou too the foremost stand!

Now Hospitality, a matron hoar, Whose step on piteous charity attends, With liberal hand unfolds her genial store, His dreary path where pensive Penury bends.

Her generous smiles sad Sorrow's tumults calm, And glad the meagre sons of needy Care, O'er wounded minds free pours the healing balm, That sooths each woe-sprung thought and gloomy fear.

Erst was she frequent in Britannia seen, The warm inspirer of each noble breast, But rarely now she treads this earthly scene, To heaven is flown each heaven-descended guest.

For see, where-e'er the gilded turrets rise And modern Grandeur holds her pompous seat, From costly cates where fragrant fumes arise, There lavish Luxury leads the princely treat.

The daedal arches flowery wreaths entwine, And joyous music swells the festive strain, The bowls high foam with wit-inspiring wine, And laughing Comus leads his jovial train.

T'arrest the pleasures of the thoughtless band, See every dire disease in troops appear, A death-dart arms each spectre's meagre hand, And Want exulting swells the ghastly rear.

Far other scenes the decent dome displays, Where modest Temperance holds her artless reign, There gaudy Greatness pours no idle blaze, Nor wanton Folly leads her revel train.

Content is there, and Innocence, and Health, The breast humane that feels another's woe, Virtues that yield such happiness, as Wealth With all her pageant pomp can ne'er bestow.

Hail blissful state! where beams the eye serene, The manly heart, and brow unknown to care, Where bright-eyed Hope illumes each darkling scene, Averting every shaft of fell despair.