Wouldst thou, possessor of a flock, employ
(Apprised that he is such) a careless boy,
And feed him well, and give him handsome pay,
Merely to sleep, and let them run astray?
Survey our schools and colleges, and see
A sight not much unlike my simile.
From education, as the leading cause,
The public character its colour draws;
Thence the prevailing manners take their cast,
Extravagant or sober, loose or chaste.
And, though I would not advertise them yet,
Nor write on each-" This building to be let,"
Unless the world were all prepared to embrace
A plan well worthy to supply their place;
Yet, backward as they are, and long have been,
To cultivate and keep the MORALS clean
(Forgive the crime), I wish them, I confess,
Or better managed, or encouraged less.

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TO THE REVEREND MR. NEWTON.

AN INVITATION INTO THE COUNTRY.*

HE swallows in their torpid state
Compose their useless wing,
And bees in hives as idly wait
The call of early Spring.

The keenest frost that binds the stream,

The wildest wind that blows,

Are neither felt nor feared by them,
Secure of their repose.

But man, all feeling and awake,

The gloomy scene surveys,

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With present ills his heart must ache,
And pant for brighter days.

Old Winter, halting o'er the mead,

Bids me and Mary mourn;

But lovely Spring peeps o'er his head,

And whispers your return.

Then April, with her sister May,
Shall chase him from the bowers,

* Poems, Ed. 1782, p. 351.

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And weave fresh garlands every day,
To crown the smiling hours.

And if a tear, that speaks regret
Of happier times, appear,

A glimpse of joy, that we have met,
Shall shine and dry the tear.

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CATHARINA.

ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON.

HE came

-she is gone-we have metAnd meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set,

And seems to have risen in vain.

Catharina has fled like a dream

(So vanishes Pleasure, alas!) But has left a regret and esteem That will not so suddenly pass.

The last evening-ramble we made,
Catharina, Maria, and I,

Our progress was often delayed

By the nightingale warbling nigh.

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* Written probably in 1790; see Letter to Mrs. King, dated 31st. Dec. in that year. The lines were printed in the Poems, Ed. 1794, vol. II. p. 352. The "Catharina" alluded to was the lady mentioned in our Memoir of the Poet, vol. I. p. clii. "Now Mrs. Courtenay" was added to the title in Ed. 1803. A poem written by Cowper on her marriage, will be found in our third volume.

We paused under many a tree,

And much she was charmed with a tone, Less sweet to Maria and me,

Who so lately had witnessed her own.*

My numbers that day she had sung,

And gave them a grace so divine,

As only her musical tongue

Could infuse into numbers of mine.

The longer I heard, I esteemed

The work of my Fancy the more,
And e'en to myself never seemed
So tuneful a poet before.

Though the pleasures of London exceed
In number the days of the year,
Catharina, did nothing impede,

Would feel herself happier here;
For the close-woven arches of limes

On the banks of our river, I know, Are sweeter to her many times

Than aught that the city can show.

So it is, when the mind is endued

With a well-judging taste from above, Then, whether embellished or rude, "Tis Nature alone that we love.

*

The

This stands in Eds. 1794, 1798, 1799, 1800, 1803, 1805, 1806(2), "Who had witness'd so lately her own." transposition now adopted is found in Eds. 1808, 1810, 1812, 1817, and all subsequent editions.

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+ All;" in the Eds. enumerated in the last note from 1794 to 1806. Aught" was introduced in 1808, and has been followed from that time.

•AAM

The achievements of Art may amuse,

May even our wonder excite,
But groves, hills, and valleys diffuse
A lasting, a sacred delight.

Since then in the rural recess
Catharina alone can rejoice,
May it still be her lot to possess

The scene of her sensible choice!
To inhabit a mansion remote

From the clatter of street-pacing steeds,

And by Philomel's annual note

To measure the life that she leads.

With her book, and her voice, and her lyre,
To wing all her moments at home;
And with scenes that new rapture inspire,
As oft as it suits her to roam;
She will have just the life she prefers,

With little to hope or to fear,

And ours would be pleasant as hers,

Might we view her enjoying it here.

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