Abbildungen der Seite


And equal transport, free as Nature live,
Disdaining fear. What is the world to them,
Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all?
Who in each other clasp whatever fair
High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish;
Something than beauty dearer, should they look
Or on the mind, or mind-illumin'd face;
Truth, goodness, honour, harmony, and love,
The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven,
Meantime a smiling offspring rises round,
And mingles both their graces. By degrees
The human bloffom blows, and every day,
Soft as it rolls along, shews some new charm,
The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom.
The infant reason grows apaće, and calls,
For the kind hand of an assiduous care.
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix
The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Oh speak the joy! ye, whom the sudden tear,
Surprizes often, while you look around.
And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss,
All various Nature pressing on the heart.
An elegant fufficiency, content,
Retirement, rural quiet, friendsliip, books,
Ease and alternate labour, useful life,
Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven.
Thele are the matchlels joys of virtuous love;
And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus,
As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll,
Still find them happy; and consenting SPRING
Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads:
Beisp. Samml. 3. B.


[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Thomron. Till evening comes at last, ferene and mild;

When after the long vernal day of life,

more, as more remembrance swells
With many a proof of recollected love,
Together down they sink in social sleep;
Together freed, their gentle spirits fly
To scenes, where love and bliss immortal reign.

Gold, Gold. rm i t h.


[ocr errors]

B. I. S. 81, dieser Sammlung ist schon dieses Dichters und feines beschreibenden Gedichts, The Deserted Village, das verddete Dorf, erw&hnt worden. Seine Absicht war, die verderblichen Einflusse des brittischen Lurus und der Auswandrungen nach Oft: und Wefindien auf die Entvdls kerung der Dörfer zu schildern; und dieß Gemåhide, wår’es auch großtentheils bloß idealisch, ift ilymm fehr geglickt. Es hat überaus viel Natur, Wahrheit und Interesse. Der Dichs ter führt darin den Bewohner eines solchen Dorfs, welches er Auburn nennt, redend ein. Die rührende Anrede an dasselbe, womit das Gedicht anfångt, und die schône Charakterisirung des Dorfpredigers, werden hier zur Probe hinreichend senin, da das englische Original in Deutschland mehr als Einmal abgedruckt und übersett ift.


Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain
Where health and plenty cheared the labouring

Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,
And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed,
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,
How often have I loitered o'er thy green,
Where humble happiness endeared each scene;
How often have I paused on every charm,
The Sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,
The never failing brook, the busy mill
The decent church tbat topt the neighbouring hill,
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the fhade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made.
How often have I blest the coming day,
When toil remitting lent its turn to play,


Goldsmith. And all the village train from labour free

Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree,
While many a pastime circled in the shade,
The young contending as the old surveyed;
And many a gambol frolicked o’er the ground,
And slights of art and feats of strength went round.
And still as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired;
The dancing pair, that fimply fought renown
By holding out to tire each other down,
The fwain mistrustless of his smutted face,
While secret laughter tittered round the place,
The bashful virgin's fide-long looks of love,
The matron's glance that would those looks re-

These were thy charms, sweet village; sports likę

these, With 'sweet succession, taught even toil to please; These round thy bowers their chearful influence

fhed, These were thy charms. But all these charms

are Aed.


Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn,
Thy sports are fed, and all thy charms with

Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen,
And desolation saddens all thy green.
One only master grasps the whole domain,
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain;
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,
But choaked with fedges, works it weedy way,
Along thy glades a solitary guest,
The hollow founding bittern guards its nest
Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.
Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all
And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering




Near yonder copse, where once the garden

And still where many a garden flower grows wild;
There, where a few thorn-fb rubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was, to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from town's he ran his godly race,
Nor ere had changed, nor wil h'd to change his

Uns kilful he to fawn, or seek for power,
By do&trines fashioned to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings, but relieved th ir pain;
The long remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruined spend-thritt, now no longer proud,
Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sate by his fire, and talked the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shouldered his crutch, and Shewed how fields were


Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to

And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings leaned to Virtue's fide;
But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watched and wept, he prayed and felt, for all.
And, is a bird each fond endearment tries,
To'tempt its new fledged offspring to the skies;

[ocr errors][merged small]
« ZurückWeiter »