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Each greedy wretch for tardy rifing wealth

Which comes too late, that courts the tafte in vain, ,,Or naufeates with diftempers. Yes, ye Rich!

Still, ftill be rich, if thus ye fafhion life; „And piping, careless, filly fhepherds we, We filly fhepherds, all intent to feed


Our fnowy flocks, and wind the fleeky Fleece."

,,Deem not, however, our occupation mean,
Damon reply d,,, while the fupreme accounts
Well of the faithful fhepherd, rank'd alike
With king and prieft: they alfo fhepherds are;
For fo th' All-feeing ftyles them, to remind
Elated man, forgetful of his charge."

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But hafte, begin the rites: fee purple Eve
Stretches her fhadows: all ye Nymphs and

Hither affemble! Pleas'd with honours due,
Sabrina, guardian of the cryftal flood,

Shall blefs our cares, when fhe by moonlight

,,Skims o'er the dales, and eyes our fleeping folds;

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Or in hoar caves around Plynlymmon's brow,
Where precious minerals dart their



Among her fifters fhe reclines; the lov'd Vaga, profufe of graces, Ryddol rough, ,,Blithe Yftwith, and Clevedoc, *) fwitt of foot; „And mingles various feeds of flow'rs and herbs, „In the divided torrents, ere they burst


Thro' the dark clouds, and down the mountain roll.

,,Nor taint-worm fhall infect the yeaning herds,


*) Vaga, Ryddol, Yftwith, and Clevedoc, rivers, the fprings of which rife in the fides of Plynlym


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„Nor penny-grafs, nor fpearwort's pois'nous


He faid: with light fantaftic toe the nymphs
Thither affembled, thither every/fwains,
And o'er the dimpled ftream a thoufand flow'rs;
Pale lilies, rofes, violets, and pinks,

Mix'd with the greens of burnet, mint, and thy


And trefoil, fprinkled with their sportive arms.

Such custom holds along th' irriguous vales
From Wreakin's brow to rocky Dolvoryn *)
Sabrina's early haunt, ere yet she fled
The fearch of Guendolen, her stepdame proud,
With envious hate enrag'd. The jolly cheer,
Spread on a moffy bank, untouch'd abides
Till ceafe the rites; and now the mossy bank
Is gaily circled, and the jolly cheer

Difpers'd in copious measure: early fruits

And thofe of frugal store, in husk or rind;

Steep'd grain, and curdled milk with dulcet


Soft temper'd, in full merriment they quaff,
And caft about their gibes; and fome apace
Whistle to roundelays: their little - ones
Look on delighted; while the mountain-woods
And winding vallies with the various notes

Of pipe, fheep, kine, and birds, and liquid



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*) Dalvoryn, a ruinous caftle in Montgomeryfhire, on the

banks of the Severn,


Unite their echoes: near at hand the wide
Majestic wave of Severn flowly rolls
Along the deep-divided glebe: the flood,
And trading bark with low-contracted fail
Linger among the reeds and copfy banks
To liften, and to view the joyous scene.



Dr. John Armstrong war ein einsichtvoller und geschickter Arzt, der zu Anfange dieses Jahrhunderts im Kirchspiel Castleton geboren wurde, und im J. 1779 in London starb. Sein erstes Lehrgedicht, The Oeconomy of Love hatte zu viel freie Stellen, die er in einer umgeänderten Ausgabe vom J. 1768 größtentheils wegließ; indeß fand er doch dieß Gedicht einer Aufnahme in die Sammlung seiner wizigen Schriften nicht würdig, die er im J. 1770 unter dem Titel, Miscellanies, in zwei Bånden herausgab. An der Spiße dieser Sammlung steht sein besseres, und von Seiten des Jnhalts sowohl als der Ausführung überaus schäßbares Lehrgedicht: The Art of preferving Health, in vier Büchern, worin Vorschriften der Lebensordnung in vierfacher Nücksicht, auf Luft, Nahrung, Bewegung und Gemüthszustand, ertheilt werden. Zur Probe gebe ich hier nur eine kurze Stelle des lezten Buchs, weil das ganze Gedicht neulich im zweiten Bande von Hrn. Benzler's Poetical Library, einer sehr empfehlungswerthen Sammlung der besten englischen didaktis schen und beschreibenden Gedichte abgedruckt ist. -- Vergl. Dusch's Briefe, Th. II. Br. 15.

B. IV. v. 220-303.


How to live happieft; how avoid the pains,
The disappointments, and disgufts of those,
Who would in pleasure all their hours employ,
The precepts here of a divine old man
I could recite. Tho' old, he ftill retain'd
His manly fenfe, and energy of mind.
Virtuous and wife he was, but not fevere;
He still remember'd that he once was young
His eafy prefence check'd no decent joy.
Him even the diffolute admir'd; for he

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A graceful loofenefs, when he pleas'd, put on,
And laughing could inftruct. Much had, he-

Much more had feen; he ftudied from the life
And in th' original perus'd mankind.

Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life,

He pitied man: and much he pitied thofe
Whom falfely failing fate has curs'd with

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To diffipate their days in queft of joy.
Our aim is Happinefs; 'tis your's, 'tis mine!
He faid, 'tis the purfuit of all that live;

Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain'd.

But they the wideft wander from the mark,

Who thro' the flow'ry paths of faunt'ring joy
Seek this coy Goddefs, that from ftage to

Invites us ftill, but fhifts as we purfue.

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For, not to name the pains that Pleasure brings.
To counterpoife itself, relentless Fate

Forbids that we thro' gay voluptuous wilds

Should ever roam: And were the Fates more


Our narrow luxuries would foon be ftale.

Were thefe exhauftlefs. Nature would grow

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And cloy'd with pleafure, fqueamishly complain

That all was vanity, and life a dream.

Let nature reft; be bufy for yourself,

And for your friend; be bufy even in vain,
Rather than teize her fated appetites
Who never fafts, no banquet e'er enjoys;
Who never toils or watches, never fleeps.
Let nature reft: And when the taste of joy
Grows keen, indulge; but fhun fatiety.
'Tis not for mortals always to be bleft.
But him the leaft the dull or painful hours
Of life opprefs, whom fober fenfe conducts,
And virtue thro' this labyrinth, we tread.

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