LITMIR.BIZ

      185Fly, if you can, these violent extremes

       Of air; the wholesome is nor moist nor dry.

       But as the power of chusing is deny'd

       To half mankind, a further task ensues;

       How best to mitigate these fell extreams,

      190How breathe unhurt the withering element,

       Or hazy atmosphere: Tho' custom moulds

       To every clime the soft Promethean clay;

       And he who first the fogs of Essex breath'd

       (So kind is native air) may in the fens

      195Of Essex from inveterate ills revive

       At pure Montpelier or Bermuda caught.

       But if the raw and oozy heaven offend,

       Correct the soil, and dry the sources up

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      Of watry exhalation; wide and deep

      200Conduct your trenches thro' the spouting bog;

       Solicitous, with all your winding arts,

       Betray th' unwilling lake into the stream;

       And weed the forest, and invoke the winds

       To break the toils where strangled vapours lie;

      205Or thro' the thickets send the crackling flames.

       Mean time, at home with chearful fires dispel

       The humid air: And let your table smoke

       With solid roast or bak'd; or what the herds

       Of tamer breed supply; or what the wilds

      210Yield to the toilsom pleasures of the chase.

       Generous your wine, the boast of rip'ning years,

       But frugal be your cups; the languid frame,

       Vapid and sunk from yesterday's debauch,

       Shrinks from the cold embrace of watry heavens.

      215But neither these, nor all Apollo's arts,

       Disarm the dangers of the dropping sky,

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      Unless with exercise and manly toil

       You brace your nerves, and spur the lagging blood.

       The fat'ning clime let all the sons of ease

      220Avoid; if indolence would wish to live.

       Go, yawn and loiter out the long slow year

       In fairer skies. If droughty regions parch

       The skin and lungs, and bake the thick'ning blood;

       Deep in the waving forest chuse your seat,

      225Where fuming trees refresh the thirsty air;

       And wake the fountains from their secret beds,

       And into lakes dilate the running stream.

       Here spread your gardens wide; and let the cool,

       The moist relaxing vegetable store

      230Prevail in each repast: Your food supplied

       By bleeding life, be gently wasted down,

       By soft decoction and a mellowing heat,

       To liquid balm; or, if the solid mass

       You chuse, tormented in the boiling wave;

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      235That thro' the thirsty channels of the blood

       A smooth diluted chyle may ever flow.

       The fragrant dairy from its cool recess

       Its nectar acid or benign will pour

       To drown your thirst; or let the mantling bowl

      240Of keen Sherbet the fickle taste relieve.

       For with the viscous blood the simple stream

       Will hardly mingle; and fermented cups

       Oft dissipate more moisture than they give.

       Yet when pale seasons rise, or winter rolls

      245His horrors o'er the world, thou may'st indulge

       In feasts more genial, and impatient broach

       The mellow cask. Then too the scourging air

       Provokes to keener toils than sultry droughts

       Allow. But rarely we such skies blaspheme.

      250Steep'd in continual rains, or with raw fogs

       Bedew'd, our seasons droop; incumbent still

       A ponderous heaven o'erwhelms the sinking soul.

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      Lab'ring with storms in heapy mountains rise

       Th' imbattled clouds, as if the Stygian shades

      255Had left the dungeon of eternal night,

       Till black with thunder all the south descends.

       Scarce in a showerless day the heavens indulge

       Our melting clime; except the baleful east

       Withers the tender spring, and sourly checks

      260The fancy of the year. Our fathers talk

       Of summers, balmy airs, and skies serene.

       Good heaven! for what unexpiated crimes

       This dismal change! The brooding elements

       Do they, your powerful ministers of wrath,

      265Prepare some fierce exterminating plague?

       Or is it fix'd in the Decrees above

       That lofty Albion melt into the main?

       Indulgent nature! O dissolve this gloom!

       Bind in eternal adamant the winds

      270That drown or wither: Give the genial west

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      To breathe, and in its turn the sprightly north:

       And may once more the circling seasons rule

       The year; not mix in every monstrous day.

      Mean time, the moist malignity to shun

      275Of burthen'd skies; mark where the dry champain

       Swells into chearful hills; where Marjoram

       And Thyme, the love of bees, perfume the air;

And where the^[2] Cynorrhodon with the rose For fragrance vies; for in the thirsty soil 280Most fragrant breathe the aromatic tribes. There bid thy roofs high on the basking steep Ascend, there light thy hospitable fires. And let them see the winter morn arise, The summer evening blushing in the west; 285While with umbrageous oaks the ridge behind O'erhung, defends you from the blust'ring north,

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      And bleak affliction of the peevish east.

       O! when the growling winds contend, and all

       The sounding forest fluctuates in the storm,

      290To sink in warm repose, and hear the din

       Howl o'er the steady battlements, delights

       Above the luxury of vulgar sleep.

       The murmuring rivulet, and the hoarser strain

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