Abbildungen der Seite

And equal tranfport, free as Nature live,
Disdaining fear. What is the world to them,
Its pomp, its pleafure, and its nonfenfe all?
Who in each other clafp whatever fair
High fancy forms, and lavifh hearts can wifh;
Something than beauty dearer, fhould 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, fhews fome new charm,
The father's luftre, and the mother's bloom.
The infant reafon grows apaće, and calls,
For the kind hand of an affiduous care.
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To pour the frefh inftruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enlivening fpirit, and to fix
The generous purpofe in the glowing breaft.
Oh speak the joy! ye, whom the fudden tear
Surprizes often, while you look around.

And nothing strikes your eye but fights of blifs,
All various Nature preffing on the heart.
An elegant fufficiency, content,
Retirement, rural quiet, friendflip, books,
Eafe and alternate labour, ufeful life,
Progreflive virtue, and approving Heaven.
Thele are the matchlels joys of virtuous love;
And thus their moments fly. The Seafons thus,
As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll,
Still find them happy; and confenting SPRING
Sheds her own rofy garland on their heads:

Beisp. Samml. 3. B.


[merged small][ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Thomson. Till evening comes at laft, ferene and mild;
When after the long vernal day of life,
Enamour'd more, as more remembrance fwells
With many a proof of recollected love,
Together down they fink in focial fleep;
Together freed, their gentle fpirits fly

To fcenes, where love and blifs immortal reign.


[ocr errors]

G old s mit h.

B. 1. S. 81, dieser Sammlung ist schon dieses Dichters und seines beschreibenden Gedichts, The Deferted Village, das verddete Dorf, erwähnt worden. Seine Absicht war, die verderblichen Einflüsse des brittischen Lurus und der Auswandrungen nach Ost und Westindien auf die Entvdls kerung der Dörfer zu schildern; und dieß Gemählde, wår' es auch größtentheils bloß idealisch, ist ihm sehr geglückt. Es hat überaus viel Natur, Wahrheit und Interesse. Der Dichs ter führt darin den Bewohner eines solchen Dorfs, welches er Auburn kennt, redend ein. Die rührende Anrede an dasselbe, womit das Gedicht anfångt, und die schöne Charakterisirung des Dorfpredigers, werden hier zur Probe hinreichend seyn, da das englische Original in Deutschland mehr als Einmal abgedruckt und überscht ist.


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

Where fmiling fpring its earliest visit paid,
And parting fummer's lingering blooms delayed,
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and eafe

Seats of my youth, when every sport could pleafe,
How often have I loitered o'er thy green,
Where humble happiness endeared each scene;
How often have I paused on every charm,
The fheltered cot, the cultivated farm,
The never failing brook, the bufy mill
The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill,
The hawthorn bufh, with feats beneath the fhade,
For talking age and whifpering lovers made.
How often have I bleft 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 paftime circled in the fhade,
The young contending as the old furveyed;
And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,
And flights of art and feats of strength went round.
And still as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band infpired;
The dancing pair, that fimply fought renown
By holding out to tire each other down,
The fwain mistruftlefs of his fmutted face,
While fecret laughter tittered round the place,
The bafhful virgin's fide-long looks of love,
The matron's glance that would thofe looks re-

These were thy charms, fweet village; fports like
With fweet fucceffion, taught even toil to please;
Thefe round thy bowers their chearful influence
These were thy charms. But all these charms
are fled.

[ocr errors]

Sweet fmiling village, lovelieft of the lawn, Thy fports are fled, and all thy charms with drawn;

Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is feen,
And defolation faddens all thy green.

[ocr errors]

One only mafter grafps the whole domain,
And halfa tillage ftints thy fmiling plain;
No more thy glaffy brook reflects the day,
But choaked with fedges, works it weedy way,
Along thy glades a folitary guest,
The hollow founding bittern guards its neft
Amidst thy defert walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.
Sunk are thy bowers in fhapeless ruin all
And the long grafs o'ertops the mouldering




Near yonder copfe, where once the garden
And ftill where many a garden flower grows wild;
There, where a few thorn-fh rubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modeft mansion rofe.
A man he was, to all the country dear,
And paffing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor ere had changed, nor wilh'd to change his

Unfkilful he to fawn, or feek for power,
By doctrines fafhioned 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 their pain;
The long remembered beggar was his gueft,
Whofe beard defcending fwept his aged breaft;
The ruined fpend-thrift, now no longer proud,
Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed;
The broken foldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sate by his fire, and talked the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of forrow done,
Shouldered his crutch, and fhewed how fields were


Pleafed with his guests, the good man learned to glow,

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, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new fledged offfpring to the fkies;


« ZurückWeiter »