LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO
 
 J<l
 
 ZTbe 
 
 EDITED BY OWEN EDWARDS. 
 
 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER
 
 Melsb Xtbrarg. 
 
 Edited by OWEN M. EDWARDS, Aulhot 
 of " Wales" Each volume Foolscap 8i>o. 
 2s. Cloth; is. paper. 
 
 Vols. 1-3 THE MABINOGION. 
 
 4 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER. 
 
 Edited by EDWARD THOMAS, B.A., 
 Author of "Jforae Solitariae" 
 
 5 A SHORT HISTORY OF WALES. 
 
 By the EDITOR. 
 
 6 A SHORT HISTORY OF WELSH 
 
 LITERATURE. By the EDITOR. 
 
 7 THE WORKS OF GEORGE HERBERT. 
 
 Edited by Miss LOUISE I. GUINEY.
 
 POEMS OF 
 
 JOHNLDYER 
 
 EDITED BY EDWARD 
 THOMAS, AUTHOR 
 OF "HORAE SOLI- 
 TARIAE" LONDON 
 T. FISHER UNWIN 
 ii PATERNOSTER 
 BUILDINGS. MXCIII
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 JOHN DYER, 1701-1757. 
 
 JOHN DYER was born at Aberglasney, a considerable 
 house, in the parish of Llangathen, in Caermarthen- 
 shire, in 1700 according to some, in 1701 according 
 to others; more probably in 1701. The register 
 which would have shown the date of his birth has 
 been lost, and I can only learn that he was fifty-six 
 years old when he died in 1757. He was the second 
 son of a solicitor " of great reputation," and from 
 father and mother had English blood. He was 
 educated, first at a country school, then at West- 
 minster School, under Dr Freind. Of his attainments 
 we know nothing. It is likely that he painted and 
 wrote verse at an early age ; and he is said to have 
 planned " Grongar Hill " when he was sixteen years 
 old. Before he was ripe for a university, he 
 was called from Westminster to his father's office. 
 Having no taste for the law, he left it on his father's
 
 8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 death, soon afterwards. His taste for painting led 
 him to become a pupil of Jonathan Richardson, in 
 Lincoln's Inn Fields. Richardson's written work 
 inspired Reynolds, but his teaching would not seem 
 to have matured Dyer's capacity to anything beyond 
 a skilled mediocrity. According to one of his own 
 published letters, the youth, on leaving Richardson, 
 became " an itinerant painter " in South Wales and 
 the neighbouring counties of England. He must 
 have paid visits to London about this time. Savage 
 and Aaron Hill were among his friends. From an 
 epistle by the former, it appears that, like his master, 
 he painted portraits. His character, gentle, amiable, 
 independent and unworldly, endeared him to those 
 whom he met, if it did not attract the literary 
 world. 
 
 Probably in 1724, he went, still as a painter, to 
 Italy. He spent two years in Rome and Florence 
 and other cities that were a matter of course. Like 
 some of the next century's poets, whom he faintly but 
 certainly foreshadowed, he was delighted by the 
 riches of Nature, the Renaissance, the Middle Ages, 
 and antiquity, which he saw. With a milder rapture 
 than Shelley's, he was happy in sight of the Baths 
 of Caracalla and the Coliseum. He is said to have 
 been more successful with pen and ink sketches 
 than with crayon and oils ; but it may be conjectured 
 that his work in colour and line had little but the 
 indirect value of training his eye in a way that
 
 INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 afterwards served him as a poet of Nature. To 
 "Clio" probably the "Clio" whom he is known 
 to have painted he addressed some trifling " Verses 
 from Rome"; Clio sent back a set of verses of 
 equal merit. 
 
 1726, the year of his return to England, was a 
 year of some literary activity for Dyer. It was the 
 year of the publication of Thomson's " Winter." 
 Savage's Miscellany of that date contained five 
 pieces from Dyer's pen, viz. : " The Inquiry," an 
 unimportant composition that proves his rural 
 contentment ; " To Aaron Hill," a complimentary 
 epistle; "An Epistle to a Painter," i.e. to Richardson; 
 "The Country Walk," and " Grongar Hill." As 
 then published, " Grongar Hill" was not significant. 
 In form "an irregular ode," divided into stanzas, 
 it displayed some unattractive Pindarism and the 
 antics of that day. " The Country Walk," the one 
 wild flower of the collection, slender but unique, in 
 manner suggested the turn which was given later 
 to "Grongar Hill." He was again an itinerant 
 painter. 
 
 In 1727, "Grongar Hill" appeared in its final 
 shape. The revision had been happy, but somewhat 
 imperfectly inspired. Thus the opening lines are 
 negligent and vague, and " unhappy fate," etc., is 
 indefensible. But when we consider the fitness of 
 the metre, and the skilful presentation of a mood so 
 uncommon in his day, breathing in the first lines,
 
 16 INTRODUCTION 
 
 and gracefully completed in the last, we must grant 
 to the poem a very special claim. If we exclude 
 consideration of the age in which it appeared, 
 it has still a charm, if only for the small number 
 of readers who care for all the poetry of Nature. 
 As a product of 1727, it must be allowed that 
 it adds to the strength of a necessary link in 
 the chain of English literature that deals poetic- 
 ally with Nature. It has been praised in English 
 and Welsh, and in the last century was para- 
 phrased in Welsh. The manner of Dyer's work, 
 and the combination of personal fancy with 
 accurate observation, make him a closer relative 
 to Wordsworth than his bulky rival Thomson, who 
 was in many ways far more richly gifted. It is 
 necessary to add, since it has been wrongly located, 
 that Grongar is in Caermarthenshire, and in sight of 
 Aberglasney. 
 
 It is obvious that Dyer must have been much out 
 of doors. He probably knew South Wales intimately. 
 He had a short, practical experience of agriculture, 
 and a love of animals. At the same time he was 
 not a hearty out-door philosopher. His health was 
 always indifferent, and the Campagna had injured it. 
 He seems to have had an amiable, constitutional 
 melancholy, and must have known the angrier moods 
 of that "sweet enemy"; for, in 1729, he is said to 
 have written his epitaph. He called himself "old 
 and sickly " in middle age ; for many years in later
 
 INTRODUCTION 1 1' 
 
 life he was deaf; yet remained true to the 
 character which was given to him by Aaron Hill, 
 who says, 
 
 "You look abroad serene 
 And marking both extremes, pass clear between." 
 
 After the publication of "Grongar Hill," he 
 continued to write verse. Italy lived impressively in 
 his memory. He probably took many notes during 
 his tour, and certainly made a preparatory sketch of 
 "The Ruins of Rome," which was published in its 
 final shape in 1740. Portions of it have been praised 
 by Johnson, Hervey, Wordsworth and others. It 
 is, indeed, a dignified and impassioned meditation. 
 Like " Grongar Hill," it hints at the ampler manner 
 of the next century. In execution it is sometimes 
 tame, and the poet here uses Miltonisms for the 
 first time; but the conception, and some of the 
 thoughts, might well remind us of Shelley. Here, 
 again, Dyer is to be respected as an interesting 
 link, though " The Ruins of Rome " appears less 
 like a finished poem than a first draft by a powerful 
 hand. 
 
 In 1740, or at about that time, he married a Miss 
 Ensor; and failing health and, we may surmise, an 
 aptitude of temperament, led him into the Church. 
 He was presented by " one Mr Harper " to the 
 living of Catthorpe in Leicestershire, in the following 
 year. In 1751, he left Catthorpe for Belchford in 
 Lincolnshire, to which he was appointed by Lord
 
 12 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Hardwicke, Chancellor of the Exchequer, on the 
 recommendation of Daniel Wray, Deputy Teller ; and 
 in the same year, Sir John Heathcote presented him 
 to the living of Coningsby in Lincolnshire, and in 
 1755 to Kirky-on-Bane in the same county, in place 
 of Belchford. He became LL.B., Cantab., by royal 
 mandate, in 1752. 
 
 Coningsby Rectory was then his home, which he 
 left seldom and unwillingly. He was probably care- 
 ful in the performance of his duties, preached fair 
 sermons, and built part of the present rectory. He 
 kept his registers with singular neatness. His poems 
 are more or less clearly impressed by reminiscences 
 of such writers as Spenser, Drayton, Milton, Gray, 
 Appollonius Rhodius, Theocritus, Lucretius and 
 Virgil ; he quoted from Columella and Janus Vitalis, 
 and in his leisure must have been mainly occupied 
 with books. There seems to be no reason for be- 
 lieving that he understood Welsh. His letters do 
 not lead us to suppose that he was often afield in his 
 later years : he was unable to tell Duncombe when 
 the swallows had appeared, but was "told they 
 had been skimming about his garden this fort- 
 night." Perhaps Lincolnshire was not altogether 
 consoling to one who had known the Towy valley. 
 His last work was full of reminiscences of Wales. 
 At Coningsby, he was busy with his longest poem, 
 "The Fleece." He composed laboriously; and 
 Akenside, who was giving him medical advice,
 
 INTRODUCTION 13 
 
 helped him in the work. It is his biggest effort, 
 and when we consider the subject, his greatest 
 success. A very large proportion of dulness is to be 
 expected from Dyer on wool ; but it does not 
 obscure the excellence of his design ; even where 
 his thought is rustic, the style is pure; in some 
 places he is nearly grand ; in many, felicitous. 
 These isolated lines are characteristic of Dyer at 
 his best : 
 
 " Or the tall growth of glossy-rinded beech," 
 " No prickly brambles, white with woolly theft," 
 " Rolling by ruins hoar of antient towns," 
 " Long lay the mournful realms of elder fame 
 
 In gloomy desolation. ..." 
 " Nor what the peasant, near some lucid wave, 
 Pactolus, Simois or Meander slow, 
 Renowned in story, with his plough upturns." 
 
 Wordsworth found parts of the poem "dry 
 and heavy," and parts superior to any writer in 
 verse since Milton, for imagination and purity 
 of style. It was praised, among Dyer's contem- 
 poraries, by Dr James Grainger, a verse-writer in 
 The Monthly Review, and by Gray. 
 
 I do not think it necessary to add much size 
 and no light to this volume, by commenting on 
 the numerous proper names of men and places in 
 " The Fleece." I have retained Dyer's spelling e.g. 
 "Mincoy" for "Minikoi" almost as it was in the 
 first edition. His abbreviations as "ev'n" for
 
 14 INTRODUCTION 
 
 " even " have been as carefully as possible preserved, 
 as illustrating Dyer's (and his century's) preferences in 
 rhythm. In Book I. the 72nd and 8gth lines have 
 been changed in accordance with Dyer's directions 
 to the printer. In former editions, these lines have 
 been : 
 
 " Or marl with clay deep mixed, be then thy choice," 
 
 and 
 
 "At a meet distance from the upland ridge." 
 
 These unimportant changes, and possibly others, 
 had been suggested, as we learn from Duncombe's 
 correspondence, to Dodsley the publisher; but without 
 effect, because the poet died of a consumptive malady 
 in the year of publication, i5th December, 1757, 
 "aged 56," says the register at Coningsby. There he 
 was buried and remains without memorial. 
 
 Postscript. I thank Mr John Jenkins ("Gwili"), 
 the Rev. Arthur Wright, Rector of Coningsby, and 
 the Rev. J. Alex. Williams, Vicar of Llangathen, for 
 their answers to my enquiries concerning the poet. 
 
 EDWARD THOMAS. 
 
 Note by the Publisher. 
 
 The portrait which appears as a frontispiece to this volume 
 is taken from an Edition of Dyer's Poems, bearing the date 
 1779. There is, however, some doubt as to its being an 
 authentic likeness of the poet.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 TO THE POET, JOHN DYER. BY WILLIAM WORDS- 
 WORTH l6 
 
 GRONGAR HILL 17 
 
 THE COUNTRY WALK 22 
 
 AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND IN TOWN ... 27 
 
 TO AURELIA 29 
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 30 
 
 THE FLEECE 47
 
 TO THE POET, JOHN DYER 
 BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 
 
 Bard of the Fleece, whose skilful genius made 
 
 That work a living landscape fair and bright ; 
 
 Nor hallowed less with musical delight 
 
 Than those soft scenes through which thy childhood strayed, 
 
 Those southern tracts of Cambria, ' deep embayed, 
 
 With green hills fenced, with Ocean's murmur lulled'; 
 
 Though hasty fame hath many a chaplet culled 
 
 For worthless brows, while in the pensive shade 
 
 Of cold neglect she leaves thy head ungraced, 
 
 Yet pure and powerful minds, hearts meek and still, 
 
 A grateful few, shall love thy modest lay, 
 
 Long as the shepherd's bleating flock shall stray 
 
 O'er naked Snowdon's wide aerial waste ; 
 
 Long as the thrush shall pipe on Grongar Hill !
 
 GRONGAR HILL 
 
 SILENT Nymph ! with curious eye, 
 
 Who, the purple ev'ning, He 
 
 On the mountain's lonely van, 
 
 Beyond the noise of busy man, 
 
 Painting fair the form of things, 5 
 
 While the yellow linnet sings, 
 
 Or the tuneful nightingale 
 
 Charms the forest with her tale ; 
 
 Come, with all thy various hues, 
 
 Come, and aid thy sister Muse ; 10 
 
 Now while Phoebus, riding high, 
 
 Gives lustre to the land and sky, 
 
 Grongar Hill invites my song ; 
 
 Draw the landscape bright and strong ; 
 
 Grongar in whose mossy cells, 15 
 
 Sweetly musing Quiet dwells ; 
 
 Grongar, in whose silent shade, 
 
 For the modest Muses made, 
 
 So oft I have, the ev'ning still, 
 
 At the fountain of a rill 20 
 
 Sat upon a flow'ry bed, 
 
 With my hand beneath my head, 
 
 While stray'd my eyes o'er Towy's flood, 
 
 Over mead and over wood,
 
 1 8 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 From house to house, from hill to hill, 2 5 
 
 Till Contemplation had her fill. 
 
 About his chequer'd sides I wind, 
 And leave his brooks and meads behind, 
 And groves and grottoes where I lay, 
 And vistoes shooting beams of day. 3 
 
 Wide and wider spreads the vale, 
 As circles on a smooth canal : 
 The mountains round, unhappy fate ! 
 Sooner or later, of all height, 
 
 Withdraw their summits from the skies, 35 
 
 And lessen as the others rise : 
 Still the prospect wider spreads, 
 Adds a thousand woods and meads ; 
 Still it widens, widens still, 
 And sinks the newly-risen hill. 4 
 
 Now I gain the mountain's brow, 
 What a landskip lies below ! 
 No clouds, no vapours intervene ; 
 But the gay, the open scene 
 
 Does the face of Nature show 45 
 
 In all the hues of heaven's bow, 
 And, swelling to embrace the light, 
 Spreads around beneath the sight. 
 
 Old castles on the cliffs arise, 
 
 Proudly tow'ring in the skies ; 5 
 
 Rushing from the woods, the spires 
 Seem from hence ascending fires ; 
 Half his beams Apollo sheds 
 On the yellow mountain-heads, 
 
 Gilds the fleeces of the flocks, 55 
 
 And glitters on the broken rocks. 
 
 Below me trees unnumber'd rise, 
 Beautiful in various dyes ;
 
 GRONGAR HILL 19 
 
 The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, 
 
 The yellow beech, the sable yew, . v 60 
 
 The slender fir, that taper grows, 
 
 The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs, 
 
 And beyond the purple grove, 
 
 Haunt of Phillis, queen of love ! 
 
 Gaudy as the op'ning dawn, 6 5 
 
 Lies a long and level lawn, 
 
 On which a dark hill, steep and high, 
 
 Holds and charms the wand'ring eye : 
 
 Deep are his feet in Towy's flood, 
 
 His sides are cloath'd with waving wood, 7 
 
 And ancient towers crown his brow, 
 
 That cast an awful look below ; 
 
 Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps, 
 
 And with her arms from falling keeps ; 
 
 So both a safety from the wind 75 
 
 On mutual dependence find. 
 
 'Tis now the raven's bleak abode ; 
 'Tis now th' apartment of the toad ; 
 And there the fox securely feeds, 
 And there the pois'nous adder breeds, So 
 
 Conceal'd in ruins, moss, and weeds ; 
 While, ever and anon, there falls 
 Huge heaps of hoary moulder'd walls. 
 Yet Time has seen, that lifts the low, 
 And level lays the lofty brow, 85 
 
 Has seen this broken pile compleat, 
 Big with the vanity of state : 
 But transient is the smile of Fate ! 
 A little rule, a little sway, 
 
 A sunbeam in a winter's day, 90 
 
 Is all the proud and mighty have 
 Between the cradle and the grave.
 
 20 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 And see the rivers how they run 
 Thro' woods and meads, in shade and sun ! 
 Sometimes swift and sometimes slow, 95 
 
 Wave succeeding wave, they go 
 A various journey to the deep, 
 Like human life to endless sleep : 
 Thus is Nature's vesture wrought, 
 To instruct our wand'ring thought ; io 
 
 Thus she dresses green and gay, 
 To disperse our cares away. 
 
 Ever charming, ever new, 
 When will the landskip tire the view ! 
 The fountain's fall, the river's flow, 105 
 
 The woody vallies warm and low ; 
 The windy summit, wild and high, 
 Roughly rushing on the sky ! 
 The pleasant seat, the ruin'd tow'r, 
 The naked rock, the shady bow'r ; 1 10 
 
 The town and village, dome and farm, 
 Each give each a double charm, 
 As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm. 
 
 See on the mountain's southern side, 
 Where the prospect opens wide, "5 
 
 Where the ev'ning gilds the tide, 
 How close and small the hedges lie ! 
 What streaks of meadows cross the eye ! 
 A step, methinks, may pass the stream, 
 So little distant dangers seem ; 120 
 
 So we mistake the future's face, 
 Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass ; 
 As yon summits soft and fair, 
 Clad in colours of the air, 
 
 Which, to those who journey near, 125 
 
 Barren, brown, and rough appear ;
 
 GRONGAR HILL 21 
 
 Still we tread the same coarse way ; 
 The present's still a cloudy day. 
 
 O may I with myself agree, 
 
 And never covet what I see ; 13 
 
 Content me with an humble shade, 
 My passions tam'd, my wishes laid ; 
 For while our wishes wildly roll, 
 We banish quiet from the soul ; 
 'Tis thus the busy beat the air, 135 
 
 And misers gather wealth and care. 
 
 Now, ev'n now, my joys run high, 
 As on the mountain-turf I lie ; 
 While the wanton Zephyr sings, 
 
 And in the vale perfumes his wings ; 14 
 
 While the waters murmur deep ; 
 While the shepherd charms his sheep ; 
 While the birds unbounded fly, 
 And with music fill the sky, 
 Now, ev'n now, my joys run high. 145 
 
 Be full, ye Courts ! be great who will ; 
 Search for Peace with all your skill : 
 Open wide the lofty door, 
 Seek her on the marble floor : 
 
 In vain ye search, she is not there ; 150 
 
 In vain ye search the domes of Care ! 
 Grass and flowers Quiet treads, 
 On the meads and mountain-heads, 
 Along with pleasure close ally'd, 
 Ever by each other's side, 155 
 
 And often, by the munn'ring rill, 
 Hears the thrush, while all is still, 
 Within the groves of Grongar Hill.
 
 THE COUNTRY WALK 
 
 THE morning's fair ; the lusty sun 
 With ruddy cheek begins to run, 
 And early birds, that wing the skies, 
 Sweetly sing to see him rise. 
 
 I am resolv'd, this charming day, 
 In the open field to stray, 
 And have no roof above my head, 
 But that whereon the gods do tread. 
 Before the yellow barn I see 
 A beautiful variety 10 
 
 Of strutting cocks, advancing stout, 
 And flirting empty chaff about : 
 Hens, ducks, and geese, and all their brood, 
 And turkeys gobbling for their food, 
 While rustics thrash the wealthy floor, 15 
 
 And tempt all to crowd the door. 
 
 What a fair face does Nature show ! 
 Augusta ! wipe thy dusty brow ; 
 A landscape wide salutes my sight 
 Of shady vales and mountains bright ; 20 
 
 And azure heavens I behold, 
 And clouds of silver and of gold. 
 And now into the fields I go, 
 Where thousand flaming flowers glow, 
 22
 
 THE COUNTRY WALK 23 
 
 And every neighb'ring hedge I greet, 25 
 
 With honey-suckles smelling sweet. 
 
 Now o'er the daisy-meads I stray, 
 
 And meet with, as I pace my way, 
 
 Sweetly shining on the eye, 
 
 A riv'let gliding smoothly by, 3 
 
 Which shows with what an easy tide 
 
 The moments of the happy glide : 
 
 Here, finding pleasure after pain, 
 
 Sleeping, I see a weary'd swain, 
 
 While his full scrip lies open by, 35 
 
 That does his healthy food supply. 
 
 Happy swain ! sure happier far 
 Than lofty kings and princes are ! 
 Enjoy sweet sleep, which shuns the crown, 
 With all its easy beds of down. 4 
 
 The sun now shows his noon-tide blaze, 
 And sheds around me burning rays. 
 A little onward, and I go 
 Into the shade that groves bestow, 
 And on green moss I lay me down, 45 
 
 That o'er the root of oak has grown ; 
 Where all is silent, but some flood, 
 That sweetly murmurs in the wood ; 
 But birds that warble in the sprays, 
 And charm ev'n Silence with their lays. 5 
 
 Oh ! pow'rful Silence ! how you reign 
 In the poet's busy brain ! 
 His num'rous thoughts obey the calls 
 Of the tuneful water-falls ; 
 
 Like moles, whene'er the coast is clear, 55 
 
 They rise before thee without fear, 
 And range in parties here and there. 
 
 Some wildly to Parnassus wing, 
 And view the fair Castalian spring,
 
 24 . THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Where they behold a lonely well 60 
 
 Where now no tuneful Muses dwell, 
 But now and then a slavish hind 
 Paddling the troubled pool they find. 
 
 Some trace the pleasing paths of joy, 
 Others the blissful scene destroy, 65 
 
 In thorny tracks of sorrow stray, 
 And pine for Clio far away. 
 But stay Methinks her lays I hear, 
 So smooth ! so sweet ! so deep ! so clear ! 
 No, it is not her voice I find ; 70 
 
 'Tis but the echo stays behind. 
 
 Some meditate Ambition's brow, 
 And the black gulf that gapes below ; 
 Some peep in courts, and there they see 
 The sneaking tribe of Flattery : 75 
 
 But, striking to the ear and eye, 
 A nimble deer comes bounding by ! 
 When rushing from yon rustling spray 
 It made them vanish all away. 
 
 I rouse me up, and on I rove ; 80 
 
 'Tis more than time to leave the grove. 
 The sun declines, the evening breeze 
 Begins to whisper thro' the trees ; 
 And as I leave the sylvan gloom, 
 As to the glare of day I come, 85 
 
 An old man's smoky nest I see 
 Leaning on an aged tree, 
 Whose willow walls, and furzy brow, 
 A little garden sway below : 
 
 Thro' spreading beds of blooming green, 90 
 
 Matted with herbage sweet and clean, 
 A vein of water limps along, 
 And makes them ever green and young.
 
 THE COUNTRY WALK 2$ 
 
 Here he puffs upon his spade, 
 
 And digs up cabbage in the shade : 95 
 
 His tatter'd rags are sable brown, 
 
 His beard and hair are hoary grown ; 
 
 The dying sap descends apace, 
 
 And leaves a wither'd hand and face. 
 
 Up Grongar Hill I labour now, 100 
 
 And catch at last his bushy brow. 
 Oh ! how fresh, how pure, the air ! 
 Let me breathe a little here. 
 Where am I, Nature ? I descry 
 
 Thy magazine before me lie. 105 
 
 Temples ! and towns ! and towers ! and woods ! 
 And hills ! and vales ! and fields ! and floods ! 
 Crowding before me, edg'd around 
 With naked wilds and barren ground. 
 
 See, below, the pleasant dome, 1 10 
 
 The poet's pride, the poet's home, 
 Which the sunbeams shine upon 
 To the even from the dawn. 
 See her woods, where Echo talks, 
 Her gardens trim, her terrace walks, U5 
 
 Her wildernesses, fragrant brakes, 
 Her gloomy bow'rs and shining lakes. 
 Keep, ye Gods ! this humble seat 
 For ever pleasant, private, neat. 
 
 See yonder hill, uprising steep, I20 
 
 Above the river slow and deep ; 
 It looks from hence a pyramid, 
 Beneath a verdant forest hid ; 
 On whose high top there rises great 
 The mighty remnant of a seat, I2 . 
 
 An old green tow'r, whose batter'd brow 
 Frowns upon the vale below.
 
 26 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Look upon that flow'ry plain, 
 How the sheep surround their swain, 
 How they crowd to hear his strain ! 130 
 
 All careless with his legs across, 
 Leaning on a bank of moss, 
 He spends his empty hours at play, 
 Which fly as light as down away. 
 
 And there behold a bloomy mead, . 135 
 
 A silver stream, a willow shade, 
 Beneath the shade a fisher stand, 
 Who, with the angle in his hand, 
 Swings the nibbling fry to land. 
 
 In blushes the descending sun 140 
 
 Kisses the streams, while slow they run ; 
 And yonder hill remoter grows, 
 Or dusky clouds do interpose. 
 The fields are left, the labouring hind 
 His weary oxen does unbind ; 145 
 
 And vocal mountains, as they low, 
 Re-echo to the vales below ; 
 The jocund shepherds piping come, 
 And drive the herd before them home ; 
 And now begin to light their fires, 150 
 
 Which send up smoke in curling spires ; 
 While with light hearts all homeward tend, 
 To Aberglasney I descend. 
 
 But, oh ! how bless'd would be the day 
 Did I with Clio pace my way, j^ 
 
 And not alone and solitary stray.
 
 AN EPISTLE 
 
 TO A FRIEND IN TOWN. 
 
 HAVE my friends in the town, in the gay busy town, 
 Forgot such a man as John Dyer? 
 Or heedless despise they, or pity the clown, 
 Whose bosom no pageantries fire ? 
 
 No matter, no matter content in the shades 5 
 (Contented ! why everything charms me) 
 Fall in tunes all adown the green steep, ye cascades ! 
 Till hence rigid virtue alarms me : 
 
 Till outrage arises, or misery needs 
 
 The swift, the intrepid avenger ; 10 
 
 Till sacred religion or liberty bleeds, 
 
 Then mine be the deed and the danger. 
 
 Alas ! what a folly, that wealth and domain 
 
 We heap up in sin and in sorrow ! 
 
 Immense is the toil, yet the labour how vain ! 15 
 
 Is. not life to be over to-morrow, 
 
 87
 
 28 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Then glide on my moments, the few that I have, 
 
 Smooth-shaded, and quiet, and even, 
 
 While gently the body descends to the grave, 
 
 And the spirit arises to heaven. 20
 
 TO AURELIA 
 
 SEE, the flowery Spring is blown, 
 
 Let us leave the smoky Town : 
 
 From the Mall, and from the Ring, 
 
 Every one has taken wing ; 
 
 Cloe, Strephon, Corydon, 5 
 
 To the meadows all are gone ; 
 
 What is left you worth your stay ? 
 
 Come, Aurelia, come away. 
 
 Come, Aurelia, come and see 
 
 What a lodge I've dress'd for thee ; 10 
 
 But the seat you cannot see, 
 
 'Tis so hid with jessamy, 
 
 With the vine that o'er the walls, 
 
 And in every window, crawls ; 
 
 Let us there be blithe and gay ! 15 
 
 Come, Aurelia, come away. 
 
 Come with all thy sweetest wiles, 
 
 With thy graces and thy smiles ; 
 
 Come, and we will merry be, 
 
 Who shall be so blest as we ? ao 
 
 We will frolic all the day, 
 
 Haste, Aurelia, while we may : 
 
 Ay ! and should not life be gay ? 
 
 Yes, Aurelia come away.
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 
 
 " Aspice murorum moles, prseruptaque saxa, 
 Ohrutaque horrenti vasta theatra situ : 
 H<ec sunt Roma. Viden' velut ipsa cadavera tantse 
 Urbis adhuc spirent imperiosa minas?" JANUS VITALIS. 
 
 [" Look at all the walls, the stones dislodged, the vast theatres 
 brought low by the power of decay. That is Rome. And do 
 you see how the very corpse of such a city is still imperial and 
 seems to offer menaces ? ] 
 
 ENOUGH of Grongar, and the shady dales 
 
 Of winding Towy, Merlin's fabled haunt, 
 
 I sung inglorious. Now the love of arts, 
 
 And what in metal or in stone remains 
 
 Of proud Antiquity, thro' various realms 5 
 
 And various languages and ages fam'd, 
 
 Bears me remote o'er Gallia's woody bounds, 
 
 O'er the cloud-piercing Alps remote, beyond 
 
 The vale of Arno, purpled with the vine, 
 
 Beyond the Umbrian and Etruscan hills, 10 
 
 To Latium's wide champaign, forlorn and waste, 
 
 Where yellow Tiber his neglected wave 
 
 Mournfully rolls. Yet once again, my Muse ! 
 
 Yet once again, and soar a loftier flight ; 
 
 Lo! the resistless theme, imperial Rome. 15 
 
 FalPn, fall'n, a silent heap ! her heroes all 
 Sunk in their urns ; behold the pride of pomp, 
 
 30
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 3! 
 
 The throne of nations, fall'n ! obscur'd in dust ; 
 
 Ev'n yet majestical : the solemn scene 
 
 Elates the soul, while now the rising sun 20 
 
 Flames on the ruins in the purer air 
 
 Tow'ring aloft upon the glittering plain, 
 
 Like broken rocks, a vast circumference ! 
 
 Rent palaces, crush'd columns, rifled moles, 
 
 Fanes roll'd on fanes, and tombs on bury'd tombs ! 25 
 
 Deep lies in dust the Theban obelisk 
 Immense along the waste ; minuter art, 
 Gliconian forms, or Phidian, subtly fair, 
 O'erwhelming ; as th' immense leviathan 
 The finny brood, when near lerne's shore 30 
 
 Outstretch'd, unwieldy, his island length appears 
 Above the foamy flood. Globose and huge, 
 Gray-mouldering temples swell, and wide o'ercast 
 The solitary landscape, hills and woods, 
 And boundless wilds ; while the vine-mantled brows 35 
 The pendent goats unveil, regardless they 
 Of hourly peril, tho' the clefted domes 
 Tremble to every wind. The pilgrim oft, 
 At dead of night, 'mid his oraison hears 
 Aghast the voice of Time, disparting tow'rs, 40 
 
 Tumbling all precipitate down-dash'd, 
 Rattling around, loud thund'ring to the moon ; 
 While murmurs soothe each awful interval 
 Of ever-falling waters ; shrouded Nile, 
 Eridanus, and Tiber with his twins, 45 
 
 And palmy Euphrates : they with dropping locks 
 Hang o'er their urns, and mournfully among 
 The plaintive echoing 'ruins pour their streams. 
 
 Yet here, advent'rous in the sacred search 
 Of ancient arts, the delicate of mind, 50 
 
 Curious and modest, from all climes resort, 
 Grateful society ! with these I raise
 
 32 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The toilsome step up the proud Palatin, 
 Thro' spiry cypress groves, and tow'ring pine, 
 Waving aloft o'er the big ruin's brows, 55 
 
 On num'rous arches rear'd ; and, frequent stopp'd, 
 The sunk ground startles me with dreadful chasm, 
 Breathing forth darkness from the vast profound 
 Of aisles and halls within the mountain's womb. 
 Nor these the nether works ; all these beneath, 60 
 And all beneath the vales and hills around, 
 Extend the cavern'd sewers, massy, firm, 
 As the Sibyllin-e grot beside the dead 
 Lake of Avernus ; such the sewers huge, 
 Whither the great Tarquinian genius dooms 65 
 
 Each wave impure ; and proud with added rains, 
 Hark how the mighty billows lash their vaults, 
 And thunder ! how they heave their rocks in vain ! 
 Tho' now incessant time has roll'd around 
 A thousand winters o'er the changeful world, 70 
 
 And yet a thousand since, th' indignant floods 
 Roar loud in their firm bounds, and dash and swell 
 In vain, convey'd to Tiber's lowest wave. 
 
 Hence over airy plains, by crystal founts, 
 That weave their glitt'ring wave with tuneful lapse 75 
 Among the sleeky pebbles, agate clear, 
 Cerulean ophite, and the flow'ry vein 
 Of orient jasper, pleas'd I move along, 
 And vases boss'd, and huge inscriptive stones, 
 And intermingling vines, and figur'd nymphs, 80 
 
 Floras and Chloes of delicious mould, 
 Cheering the darkness ; and deep empty tombs, 
 And dells, and mould'ring shrines, with old decay 
 Rustic and green, and wide-em bow'ring shades, 
 Shot from the crooked clefts of nodding tow'rs ; 85 
 A solemn wilderness ! with error sweet 
 I wind the lingering step, where'er the path
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 33 
 
 Mazy conducts me, which the vulgar foot 
 O'er sculptures maim'd has made; Anubis, Sphinx, 
 Idols of antique guise, and horned Pan, 9 
 
 Terrific, monstrous shapes ! prepost'rous gods 
 Of fear and ignorance, by the sculptor's hand 
 Hewn into form, and worshipp'd ; as ev'n now 
 Blindly they worship at their breathless mouths 
 In varied appellations : men to these 95 
 
 (From depth to depth in dark'ning error fall'n) 
 At length ascrib'd th' Inapplicable Name. 
 How doth it please and fill the memory 
 With deeds of brave renown, while on each hand 
 Historic urns and breathing statues rise, io 
 
 And speaking busts ! Sweet Scipio, Marius stern, 
 Pompey superb, the spirit-stirring form 
 Of Caesar, raptur'd with the charm of rule 
 And boundless fame ; impatient for exploits, 
 His eager eyes upcast, he soars in thought 105 
 
 Above all height : and his own Brutus see, 
 Desponding Brutus ! dubious of the right, 
 In evil days of faith, of public weal, 
 Solicitous and sad. Thy next regard 
 Be Tully's graceful attitude ; uprais'd, 1 1 
 
 His outstretch'd arm he waves, in act to speak 
 Before the silent masters of the world, 
 And eloquence arrays him. There behold, 
 Prepar'd for combat in the front of war, 
 The pious brothers; jealous Alba stands "5- 
 
 In fearful expectation of the strife, 
 And youthful Rome intent : the kindred foes 
 Fall on each other's neck in silent tears ; 
 In sorrowful benevolence embrace 
 Howe'er they soon unsheath the flashing sword I2 
 Their country calls to arms ; now all in vain 
 The mother clasps the knee, and ev'n the fair 
 C
 
 34 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Now weeps in vain ; their country calls to arms. 
 
 Such virtue Clelia, Codes, Manlius, rouz'd ; 
 
 Such were the Fabii, Decii ; so inspir'd I2 5 
 
 The Scipios battled, and the Gracchi spoke : 
 
 So rose the Roman state. Me now, of these 
 
 Deep musing, high ambitious thoughts inflame 
 
 Greatly to serve my country, distant land, 
 
 And build me virtuous fame ; nor shall the dust 13 
 
 Of these fall'n piles with show of sad decay 
 
 Avert the good resolve, mean argument, 
 
 The fate alone of matter. Now the brow 
 
 We gain enraptur'd ; beauteously distinct 
 
 The num'rous porticoes and domes upswell, J 35 
 
 With obelisks and columns interpos'd, 
 
 And pine, and fir, and oak ; so fair a scene 
 
 Sees not the dervise from the spiral tomb 
 
 Of ancient Chammos, while his eye beholds 
 
 Proud Memphis' relics o'er th' Egyptian plain ; MO 
 
 Nor hoary hermit from Hymettus' brow, 
 
 Tho' graceful Athens in the vale beneath. 
 
 Along the windings of the Muse's stream, 
 
 Lucid Ilyssus weeps her silent schools 
 
 And groves, unvisited by bard or sage. MS 
 
 Amid the tow'ry ruins, huge, supreme, 
 
 Th' enormous amphitheatre behold, 
 
 Mountainous pile ! o'er whose capacious womb 
 
 Pours the broad firmament its vary'd light, 
 
 While from the central floor the seats ascend 15 
 
 Round above round, slow wid'ning to the verge, 
 
 A circuit vast and high ; nor less had held 
 
 Imperial Rome and her attendant realms, 
 
 When, drunk with rule, she will'd the fierce delight, 
 
 And op'd the gloomy caverns, whence out rush'd, i55 
 
 Before th' innumerable shouting crowd, 
 
 The fiery madded tyrants of the wilds,
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 35 
 
 Lions and tigers, wolves and elephants, 
 
 And desp'rate men, more fell. Abhorr'd intent ! 
 
 By frequent converse with familiar death '60 
 
 To kindle brutal daring apt for war ; 
 
 To lock the breast, and steel th' obdurate heart, 
 
 Amid the piercing cries of sore distress 
 
 Impenetrable. But away thine eye ! 
 
 Behold yon' steepy cliff; the modern pile 165 
 
 Perchance may now delight, while that rever'd 
 
 In ancient days the page alone declares, 
 
 Or narrow coin thro' dim cerulean rust. 
 
 The fane was Jove's, its spacious golden roof, 
 
 O'er thick-surrounding temples beaming wide, 1 7 
 
 Appear'd, as when above the morning hills 
 
 Half the round sun ascends, and tower'd aloft, 
 
 Sustain'd by columns huge, innumerous 
 
 As cedars proud on Canaan's verdant heights 
 
 Dark'ning their idols, when Astarte lur'd '75 
 
 Too-prosp'rous Israel from his living Strength. 
 
 And next regard yon' venerable dome 
 Which virtuous Latium, with erroneous aim, 
 Rais'd to her various deities, and nam'd 
 Pantheon ; plain and round, of this our world 180 
 Majestic emblem ; with peculiar grace 
 Before its ample orb projected stands 
 The many-pillar'd portal ; noblest work 
 Of human skill ! Here, curious Architect, 
 If thou essay'st, ambitious, to surpass 185 
 
 Palladius, Angelus, or British Jones, 
 On these fair walls extend the certain scale, 
 And turn th' instructive compass : careful mark 
 How far in hidden art the noble plan 
 Extends, and where the lovely forms commence 19 
 Of flowing sculpture ; nor neglect to note 
 How range the taper columns, and what weight
 
 36 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Their leafy brows sustain ; fair Corinth first 
 Boasted their order, which Callimachus 
 (Reclining studious on Asopus' banks 195 
 
 Beneath an urn of some lamented nymph) 
 Haply compos'd ; the urn with foliage curl'd 
 Thinly conceal'd the chapiter inform'd. 
 
 See the tall obelisks from Memphis old, 
 One stone enormous each, or Thebes, convey'd ; 200 
 Like Albion's spires they rush into the skies : 
 And there the temple where the summon'd state 
 In deep of night conven'd ; ev'n yet methinks 
 The veh'ment orator in rent attire 
 Persuasion pours ; Ambition sinks her crest ; 205 
 
 And, lo ! the villain, like a troubled sea, 
 That tosses up her mire ! Ever disguis'd 
 Shall Treason walk ? shall proud Oppression yoke 
 The neck of Virtue ? Lo ! the wretch abash'd, 
 Self-betray'd Catiline ! O Liberty ! 210 
 
 Parent of happiness, celestial born ; 
 When the first man became a living soul 
 His sacred genius thou : be Britain's care ; 
 With her secure prolong thy lov'd retreat ; 
 Thence bless mankind ; while yet among her sons, 215 
 Ev'n yet there are, to shield thine equal laws, 
 Whose bosoms kindle at the sacred names 
 Of Cecil, Raleigh, Walsingham, and Drake. 
 May others more delight in tuneful airs, 
 In mask and dance excel ; to sculptur'd stone 220 
 Give with superior skill the living look ; 
 More pompous piles erect, or pencil soft 
 With warmer touch the visionary board : 
 But thou thy nobler Britons teach to rule, 
 To check the ravage of tyrannic sway, 225 
 
 To quell the proud, to spread the joys of peace, 
 And various blessings of ingenious trade.
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 37 
 
 Be these our arts ; and ever may we guard, 
 
 Ever defend, thee with undaunted heart. 
 
 Inestimable good ! who giv'st us Truth, 230 
 
 Whose hand upleads to light, divinest Truth ! 
 
 Array'd in ev'ry charm ; whose hand benign 
 
 Teaches umvear'd Toil to clothe the fields, 
 
 And on his various fruits inscribes the name 
 
 Of Property : O nobly hail'd of old 235 
 
 By thy majestic daughters, Judah fair, 
 
 And Tyrus and Sidonia, lovely nymphs, 
 
 And Libya bright, and all-enchanting Greece, 
 
 Whose num'rous towns, and isles, and peopled seas, 
 
 Rejoic'd around her lyre ; th' heroic note 240 
 
 (Smit with sublime delight) Ausonia caught, 
 
 And plann'd imperial Rome. Thy hand benign 
 
 Rear'd up her tow'ry battlements in strength, 
 
 Bent her wide bridges o'er the swelling stream 
 
 Of Tuscan Tiber ; thine those solemn domes 245 
 
 Devoted to the voice of humbler pray'r ; 
 
 And thine those piles undeck'd, capacious, vast, 
 
 In days of dearth, where tender Charity 
 
 Dispens'd her timely succours to the poor. 
 
 Thine, too, those musically-falling founts, 250 
 
 To slake the clammy lip ; adown they fall, 
 
 Musical ever, while from yon' blue hills, 
 
 Dim in the clouds, the radiant aqueducts 
 
 Turn their innumerable arches o'er 
 
 The spacious desert, bright'ning in the sun, 255 
 
 Proud and more proud in their august approach : 
 
 High o'er irriguous vales, and woods, and towns, 
 
 Glide the soft-whisp'ring waters in the wind, 
 
 And, here united, pour their silver streams 
 
 Among the figur'd rocks, in murm'ring falls, 260 
 
 Musical ever. These thy beauteous works ; 
 
 And what beside felicity could tell
 
 38 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Of human benefit : more late the rest ; 
 
 At various times their turrets chanc'd to rise, 
 
 When impious Tyranny vouchsaf'd to smile. 265 
 
 Behold by Tiber's flood, where modern Rome 
 Couches beneath the ruins ; there of old 
 With arms and trophies gleam'd the Field of Mars : 
 There to their daily sports the noble youth 
 Rush'd emulous, to fling the pointed lance, 270 
 
 To vault the steed, or with the kindling wheel 
 In dusty whirlwinds sweep the trembling goal ; 
 Or, wrestling, cope, with adverse swelling breasts, 
 Strong grappling arms, close heads, and distant feet ; 
 Or clash the lifted gauntlets : there they form'd 275 
 Their ardent virtues : in the bossy piles, 
 The proud triumphal arches, all their wars, 
 Their conquests, honours, in the sculptures live. 
 And see from ev'ry gate those ancient roads, 
 With tombs high verg'd, the solemn paths of Fame ! 280 
 Deserve they not regard ? o'er whose broad flints 
 Such crowds have roll'd, so many storms of war, 
 So many pomps, so many wond'ring realms : 
 Yet still thro' mountains pierc'd, o'er vallies rais'd, 
 In even state to distant seas around 285 
 
 They stretch their pavements. Lo ! the fane of Peace 
 Built by that prince who to the trust of pow'r 
 Was honest, the delight of human-kind. 
 Three nodding aisles remain, the rest an heap 
 Of sand and weeds ; her shrines, her radiant roof 290 
 And columns proud, that from her spacious floor, 
 As from a shining sea, majestic rose 
 An hundred foot aloft, like stately beech . 
 Around the brim of Dion's glassy lake, 
 Charming the mimic painter : on the walls 295 
 
 Hung Salem 's sacred spoils ; the golden board 
 And golden trumpets, now conceal'd, entomb'd
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 39 
 
 By the sunk roof. O'er which, in distant view, 
 
 Th' Etruscan mountains swell, with ruins crown'd 
 
 Of ancient towns ; and blue Soracte spires, 300 
 
 Wrapping his sides in tempests. Eastward hence, 
 
 Nigh where the Cestian pyramid divides 
 
 The mould'ring wall, behold yon' fabric huge, 
 
 Whose dust the solemn antiquarian turns, 
 
 And thence, in broken sculptures cast abroad, 305 
 
 Like Sibyl's leaves, collects the builder's name 
 
 Rejoic'd, and the green medals frequent found 
 
 Doom Caracalla to perpetual fame : 
 
 The stately pines, that spread their branches wide 
 
 In the dun ruins of its ample halls, 310 
 
 Appear but tufts, as may whate'er is high 
 
 Sink in comparison, minute and vile. 
 
 These and unnumber'd, yet their brows uplift, 
 Rent of their graces ; as Britannia's oaks 
 On Merlin's mount, or Snowden's rugged sides, 315 
 Stand in the clouds, their branches scatter'd round 
 After the tempest ; Mausoleums, Cirques, 
 Naumachios, Forums ; Trajan's column tall, 
 From whose low base the sculptures wind aloft, 
 And lead thro' various toils up the rough steep 320 
 Its hero to the skies ; and his dark tow'r 
 Whose execrable hand the City fir'd, 
 And while the dreadful conflagration blaz'd 
 Play'd to the flames ; and Phoebus' letter'd dome ; 
 And the rough relics of Carinas's street, 325 
 
 Where now the shepherd to his nibbling sheep 
 Sits piping with his oaten reed, as erst 
 There pip'd the shepherd to his nibbling sheep, 
 When th' humble roof Anchises' son explor'd 
 Of good Evander, wealth-despising king ! 330 
 
 Amid the thickets : so revolves the scene ; 
 So Time ordains, who rolls the things of pride
 
 40 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 From dust again to dust. Behold that heap 
 
 Of mould'ring urns (their ashes blown away, 
 
 Dust of the mighty ! ) the same story tell ; 335 
 
 And at its base, from whence the serpent glides 
 
 Down the green desert street, yon' hoary monk 
 
 Laments the same, the vision as he views, 
 
 The solitary, silent, solemn scene, 
 
 Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits, lie 34 
 
 Blended in dust together ; where the slave 
 
 Rests from his labours ; where th' insulting proud 
 
 Resigns his pow'r ; the miser drops his hoard ; 
 
 Where human folly sleeps. There is a mood 
 
 (I sing not to the vacant and the young), 345 
 
 There is a kindly mood of melancholy 
 
 That wings the soul, and points her to the skies : 
 
 When tribulation clothes the child of man, 
 
 When age descends with sorrow to the grave, 
 
 'Tis sweetly-soothing sympathy to pain, 35 
 
 A gently-wak'ning call to health and ease. 
 
 How musical ! when all-devouring Time, 
 
 Here sitting on his throne of ruins hoar, 
 
 While winds and tempests sweep his various lyre, 
 
 How sweet thy diapason, Melancholy ! 355 
 
 Cool ev'ning comes ; the setting sun displays 
 
 His visible great round between yon tow'rs, 
 
 As thro' two shady cliffs : away, my Muse ! 
 
 Tho' yet the prospect pleases, ever new 
 
 In vast variety, and yet delight 360 
 
 The many-ngur'd sculptures of the path 
 
 Half beauteous, half effac'd ; the traveller 
 
 Such antique marbles to his native land 
 
 Oft hence conveys ; and ev'ry realm and state 
 
 With Rome's august remains, heroes and gods, 365 
 
 Deck their long galleries and winding groves ; 
 
 Yet miss we not th' innumerable thefts ;
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 4! 
 
 Yet still profuse of graces teems the waste. 
 
 Suffice it now th' Esquilian Mount to reach 
 With weary wing, and seek the sacred rests 370 
 
 Of Maro's humble tenement. A low 
 1'lain wall remains ; a little sun-gilt heap, 
 Grotesque and wild : the gourd and olive brown 
 Weave the light roof; the gourd and olive fan 
 Their am'rous foliage, mingling with the vine, 375 
 Who drops her purple clusters thro' the green. 
 Here let me lie, with pleasing fancy sooth'd : 
 Here flow'd his fountain, here his laurels grew ; 
 Here oft the meek good man, the lofty bard, 
 Fram'd the celestial song, or social walk'd 380 
 
 With Horace and the ruler of the world : 
 Happy Augustus ! who so well inspir'd 
 Could'st throw thy pomps and royalties aside, 
 Attentive to the wise, the great of soul, 
 And dignify thy mind. Thrice glorious days, 3^5 
 Auspicious to the Muses ! then rever'd, 
 Then hallow'd was the fount, or secret shade, 
 Or open mountain, or whatever scene 
 The poet chose to tune th' ennobling rhyme 
 Melodious ; ev'n the rugged sons of War, 39 
 
 Ev'n the rude hinds, rever'd the poet's name : 
 But now another age, alas ! is ours 
 Yet will the Muse a little longer soar, 
 Unless the clouds of care weigh down her wing 
 Since Nature's stores are shut with cruel hand, 395 
 And each aggrieves his brother ; since in vain 
 The thirsty pilgrim at the fountain asks 
 Th' o'erflowing wave Enough the plaint disdain. 
 
 Seest thou yon fane? ev'n now incessant time 
 Sweeps her low mould'ring marbles to the dust ; 40 
 And Phoebus' temple, nodding with its woods, 
 Threatens huge ruin o'er the small rotund.
 
 42 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 'Twas there, beneath a fig-tree's umbrage broad, 
 Th' astonish'd swains with rev'rend awe beheld 
 Thee, O Quirinus ! and thy brother twin, 45 
 
 Pressing the teat within a monster's grasp 
 Sportive, while oft the gaunt and rugged wolf 
 Turn'd her stretch'd neck, and form'd your tender 
 
 limbs : 
 
 So taught of Jove, ev'n the fell savage fed 
 Your sacred infancies ; your virtues, toils, 4' 
 
 The conquests, glories, of th' Ausonian state, 
 Wrapp'd in their secret seeds. Each kindred soul, 
 Robust and stout, ye grapple to your hearts, 
 And little Rome appears. Her cots arise, 
 Green twigs of osier weave the slender walls, 4'5 
 
 Green rushes spread the roofs ; and here and there 
 Opens beneath the rock the gloomy cave. 
 Elate with joy, Etruscan Tiber views 
 Her spreading scenes enamelling his waves, 
 Her huts and hollow dells, and flocks and herds, 4 2 
 And gath'ring swains, and rolls his yellow car 
 To Neptune's court with more majestic train. 
 
 Her speedy growth alarm'd the states around, 
 Jealous ; yet soon, by wondrous virtue won, 
 They sink into her bosom. From the plough 4 2 5 
 Rose her dictators ; fought, o'ercame, return'd ; 
 Yes, to the plough return'd, and hail'd their peers ! 
 For then no private pomp, no household state, 
 The public only swell'd the gen'rous breast. 
 Who has not heard the Fabian heroes sung ? 43 
 
 Dentatus' scars, or Mutius' flaming hand ? 
 How Manlius sav'd the Capitol ? the choice 
 Of steady Regulus? As yet they stood, 
 Simple of life ; as yet seducing wealth 
 Was unexplor'd, and shame of poverty 435 
 
 Yet unimagin'd Shine not all the fields
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 43 
 
 With various fruitage? murmur not the brooks 
 
 Along the flow'ry vallies? they, content, 
 
 Feasted at Nature's hand, indelicate, 
 
 Blithe, in their easy taste, and only sought 44 
 
 To know their duties ; that their only strife, 
 
 Their gen'rous strife, and greatly to perform. 
 
 They thro' all shapes of peril and of pain, 
 
 Intent on honour, dar'd in thickest death 
 
 To snatch the glorious deed. Nor Trebia quell'd, 445 
 
 Nor Thrasymene, nor Cannte's bloody field, 
 
 Their dauntless courage : storming Hannibal 
 
 In vain the thunder of the battle roll'd ; 
 
 The thunder of the battle they return'd 
 
 Back on his Punic shores, till Carthage fell, 45 
 
 And danger fled afar. The City gleam'd 
 
 With precious spoils : alas, prosperity ! 
 
 Ah, baneful state ! yet ebb'd not all their strength 
 
 In soft luxurious pleasures; proud desire 
 
 Of boundless sway, and feverish thirst of gold, 455 
 
 Rouz'd them again to battle. Beauteous Greece, 
 
 Torn from her joys, in vain with languid arm 
 
 Half rais'd her rusty shield ; nor could avail 
 
 The sword of Dacia, nor the Parthian dart, 
 
 Nor yet the car of that fam'd British chief 460 
 
 Which sev'n brave years beneath the doubtful wing 
 
 Of vict'ry dreadful roll'd its grinding wheels 
 
 Over the bloody war : the Roman arms 
 
 Triumph'd till Fame was silent of their foes. 
 
 And now the world unrivall'd they enjoy'd 4 6 5 
 In proud security : the crested helm, 
 The plated greave and corselet, hung unbrac'd ; 
 Nor clank'd their arms, the spear and sounding shield, 
 But on the glitt'ring trophy to the wind. 
 
 Dissolv'd in ease and soft delights they lie, 47 
 Till ev'ry sun annoys, and ev'ry wind
 
 44 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Has chilling force, and ev'ry rain offends ; 
 
 For now the frame no more is girt with strength 
 
 Masculine, nor in lustiness of heart 
 
 Laughs at the winter-storm and summer-beam, 475 
 
 Superior to their rage : enfeebling vice 
 
 Withers each nerve, and opens ev'ry pore 
 
 To painful feeling : flow'ry bow'rs they seek, 
 
 (As ether prompts, as the sick sense approves) 
 
 Or cool nymphean grots, or tepid baths ; 480 
 
 (Taught by the soft lonians) they along 
 
 The lawny vale, of ev'ry beauteous stone, 
 
 Pile in the roseat air with fond expense : 
 
 Thro' silver channels glide the vagrant waves, 
 
 And fall on silver beds crystalline down, 485 
 
 Melodious murmuring ; while Luxury 
 
 Over their naked limbs, with wanton hand, 
 
 Sheds roses, odours, sheds unheeded bane. 
 
 Swift is the flight of wealth ; unnumber'd wants, 
 Brood of Voluptuousness, cry out aloud 49 
 
 Necessity, and seek the splendid bribe. 
 The citron board, the bowl emboss'd with gems, 
 And tender foliage wildly wreath'd around 
 Of seeming ivy, by that artful hand, 
 Corinthian Thericles ; whate'er is known 495 
 
 Of rarest acquisition ; Tyrian garbs, 
 Neptunian Albion's high testaceous food, 
 And flavour'd Chian wines, with incense fum'd, 
 To slake Patrician thirst : for these their rights 
 In the vile streets they prostitute to sale ; 500 
 
 Their ancient rights, their dignities, their laws, 
 Their native glorious freedom. Is there none, 
 Is there no villain, that will bind the neck 
 Stretch'd to the yoke? They come; the market 
 
 throngs. 
 But who has most by fraud or force amass'd ? 505
 
 THE RUINS OF ROME 45 
 
 Who most can charm Corruption with his doles ? 
 
 He be the monarch of the state ; and, lo ! 
 
 Didius, vile usurer ! thro' the crowd he mounts, 
 
 Beneath his feet the Roman Eagle cowers, 
 
 And the red arrows fill his grasp uncouth. 510 
 
 O Britons ! O my countrymen ! beware ; 
 
 Gird, gird your hearts : the Romans once were free, 
 
 Were brave, were virtuous. Tyranny howe'er 
 
 Deign'd to walk forth a while in pageant state, 
 
 And with licentious pleasures fed the rout, 515 
 
 The thoughtless many : to the wanton sound 
 
 Of fifes and drums they danc'd, or in the shade 
 
 Sung Caesar, great and terrible in war ; 
 
 Immortal Caesar ! Lo ! a god, a god ! 
 
 He cleaves the yielding skies. Caesar meanwhile 520 
 
 Gathers the ocean pebbles, or the gnat 
 
 Enrag'd pursues ; or at his lonely meal 
 
 Starves a wide province ; tastes, dislikes, and flings 
 
 To dogs and sycophants. A god, a god ! 
 
 The flow'ry shades and shrines obsene return. 525 
 
 But see along the North the tempest swell 
 O'er the rough Alps, and darken all their snows ! 
 Sudden the Goth and Vandal, dreaded names, 
 Rush as the breach of waters, whelming all 
 Their domes, their villas ; down the festive piles, 53 
 Down fall their Parian porches, gilded baths, 
 And roll before the storm in clouds of dust. 
 
 Vain end of human strength, of human skill, 
 Conquest, and triumph, and domain, and pomp, 
 And ease, and luxury ! O Luxury ! 535 
 
 Bane of elated life, of affluent states, 
 What dreary change, what ruin, is not thine ? 
 How doth thy bowl intoxicate the mind ! 
 To the soft entrance of thy rosy cave 
 How dost thou lure the fortunate and great ! 540
 
 46 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Dreadful attraction ! while behind thee gapes 
 Th' unfathomable gulf where Ashur lies 
 O'envhelm'd, forgotten, and high-boasting Cham, 
 And Elam's haughty pomp, and beauteous Greece, 
 And the great queen of earth, imperial Rome ! 545
 
 THE FLEECE 
 
 IN FOUR BOOKS 
 
 " Post majores quadrupedes ovilli pecoris secunda ratio est, quce 
 prima sit, si ad utilitatis magnitudincm referas : nam id 
 praecipue nos contra frigoris violentiam protegit, corpori- 
 busque nostris liberaliora pnebet velamina." 
 
 COLUMEU.A. 
 
 ["After the larger animals, our concern is with sheep, which would 
 come first, if extent of usefulness were considered ; for they 
 furnish us with excellent clothes, and before all others pro- 
 tect us from the cold."] 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 THE care of sheep, the labours of the loom, 
 
 And arts of trade, I sing. Ye rural Nymphs ! 
 
 Ye Swains, and princely Merchants ! aid the verse. 
 
 And ye, high-trusted Guardians of our Isle 
 
 Whom public voice approves, or lot of birth, 5 
 
 To the great charge assigns ! ye Good of all 
 
 Degrees, all sects ! be present to my song. 
 
 So may distress, and wretchedness, and want, 
 
 The wide felicities of labour learn : 
 
 So may the proud attempts of restless Gaul 10 
 
 From our strong borders, like a broken wave, 
 
 In empty foam retire. But chiefly Thou, 
 
 The people's Shepherd, eminently plac'd 
 
 47
 
 48 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Over the numerous swains of every vale, 
 
 With well-permitted power and watchful eye 15 
 
 On each gay field to shed beneficence, 
 
 Celestial office ! Thou protect the song. 
 On spacious airy downs and gentle hills, 
 
 With grass and thyme o'erspread, and clover wild, 
 
 Where smiling Phcebus tempers ev'ry breeze, 20 
 
 The fairest flocks rejoice : they nor of halt, 
 
 Hydropic tumours, nor of rot, complain, 
 
 Evils deform'd and foul : nor with hoarse cough 
 
 Disturb the music of the past'ral pipe ; 
 
 But, crowding to the note, with silence soft 25 
 
 The close-woven carpet graze, where Nature blends 
 
 Flow'rets and herbage of minutest size, 
 
 Innoxious luxury. Wide airy downs 
 
 Are Health's gay walks to shepherd and to sheep. 
 
 All arid soils, with sand or chalky flint, 3 
 
 Or shells deluvian mingled, and the turf 
 That mantles over rocks of brittle stone, 
 Be thy regard ; and where low-tufted broom, 
 Or box, or berry'd juniper, arise ; 
 Or the tall growth of glossy-rinded beech ; 35 
 
 And where the burrowing rabbit turns the dust ; 
 And where the dappled deer delights to bound. 
 
 Such are the downs of Banstead, edg'd with woods 
 And towery villas ; such Dorcestrian fields, 
 Whose flocks innumerous whiten all the land : 4 
 Such those slow-climbing wilds that lead the step 
 Insensibly to Dover's windy cliff, 
 Tremendous height ! and such the clover'd lawns 
 And sunny mounts of beauteous Normanton, 
 Health's cheerful haunt, and the selected walk 45 
 Of Heathcote's leisure : such the spacious plain 
 Of Sarum, spread like Ocean's boundless round, 
 Where solitary Stonehenge, gray with moss,
 
 THE FLEECE 49 
 
 Ruin of ages ! nods : such, too, the leas 
 
 And ruddy tilth which spiry Ross beholds, 5 
 
 From a green hillock, o'er her lofty elms ; 
 
 And Lemster's brooky tract and airy Croft ; 
 
 And such Harleian Eywood's swelling turf, 
 
 Wav'd as the billows of a rolling sea ; 
 
 And Shobden, for its lofty terrace fam'd, 55 
 
 Which from a mountain's ridge, elate o'er woods, 
 
 And girt with all Siluria, seas around 
 
 Regions on regions blended in the clouds. 
 
 Pleasant Siluria ! land of various views, 
 
 Hills, rivers, woods, and lawns, and purple groves 60 
 
 Pomaceous, mingled with the curling growth 
 
 Of tendril hops, that flaunt upon their poles, 
 
 More airy wild than vines along the sides 
 
 Of treacherous Falernum, or that hill 
 
 Vesuvius, where the bowers of Bacchus rose, 65 
 
 And Herculanean and Pompeian domes. 
 
 But if thy prudent care would cultivate 
 Leicestrian Fleeces, what the sinewy arm 
 Combs thro' the spiky steel in lengthen'd flakes ; 
 Rich saponaceous loam, that slowly drinks 70 
 
 The blackening shower, and fattens with the draught, 
 Or heavy marl's deep clay, be then thy choice, 
 Of one consistence, one complexion, spread 
 Thro" all thy glebe ; where no deceitful veins 
 Of envious gravel lurk beneath the turf, 75 
 
 To loose the creeping waters from their springs, 
 Tainting the pasturage : and let thy fields 
 In slopes descend and mount, that chilling rains 
 May trickle off, and hasten to the brooks. 
 
 Yet some defect in all on earth appears : So 
 
 All seek for help, all press for social aid. 
 Too cold the grassy mantle of the marie, 
 In stormy winter's long and dreary nights, 
 D
 
 50 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 For cumbent sheep ; from broken slumber oft 
 
 They rise benumb'd, and vainly shift the couch ; 85 
 
 Their wasted sides their evil plight declare : 
 
 Hence, tender in his care, the shepherd swain 
 
 Seeks each contrivance. Here it would avail 
 
 At a meet distance from the sheltr'ing mound 
 
 To sink a trench, and on the hedge-long bank 90 
 
 Sow frequent sand, with lime, and dark manure, 
 
 Which to the liquid element will yield 
 
 A porous way, a passage to the foe. 
 
 Plough not such pastures ; deep in spongy grass 
 
 The oldest carpet is the warmest lair, 95 
 
 And soundest : in new herbage coughs are heard. 
 
 Nor love too frequent shelter, such as decks 
 The vale of Severn, Nature's garden wide, 
 By the blue steeps, of distant Malvern wall'd, 
 Solemnly vast. The trees of various shade, IOD 
 
 Scene behind scene, with fair delusive pomp 
 Enrich the prospect, but they rob the lawns. 
 Nor prickly brambles, white with woolly theft, 
 Should tuft thy fields. Applaud not the remiss 
 Dimetians, who along their mossy dales 105 
 
 Consume, like grasshoppers, the summer hour, 
 While round them stubborn thorns and furze increase, 
 And creeping briars. I knew a careful swain 
 Who gave them to the crackling flames, and spread 
 Their dust saline upon the deepening grass; no 
 
 And oft with labour-strengthen'd arm he delv'd 
 The draining trench across his verdant slopes, 
 To intercept the small meandring rills 
 Of upper hamlets. Haughty trees, that sour 
 The shaded grass, that weaken thorn-set mounds, 115 
 And harbour villain crows, he rare allow'd ; 
 Only a slender tuft of useful ash, 
 And mingled beech and elm, securely tall,
 
 THE FLEECE 1 
 
 The little smiling cottage warm embower'd ; 
 
 The little smiling cottage ! where at eve 120 
 
 He meets his rosy children at the door, 
 
 Prattling their welcomes, and his honest wife, 
 
 With good brown cake and bacon slice, intent 
 
 To cheer his hunger after labour hard. 
 
 Nor only soil, there also must be found 125 
 
 Felicity of clime, and aspect bland, 
 Where gentle sheep may nourish locks of price. 
 In vain the silken Fleece on windy brows, 
 And northern slopes of cloud-dividing hills, 
 Is sought, tho' soft Iberia spreads her lap 130 
 
 Beneath their rugged feet and names their heights 
 Biscaian or Segovian. Bothnic realms, 
 And dark Norwegian, with their choicest fields, 
 Dingles, and dells, by lofty fir embower'd, 
 In vain the bleaters court. Alike they shun 135 
 
 Libya's hot plains. What taste have they for groves 
 Of palm, or yellow dust of gold ? no more 
 Food to the flock than to the miser wealth, 
 Who kneels upon the glittering heap and starves. 
 Ev'n Gallic Abbeville the shining Fleece, 140 
 
 That richly decorates her loom, acquires 
 Basely from Albion, by th' ensnaring bribe, 
 The bate of avarice, which with felon fraud 
 For its own wanton mouth from thousands steals. 
 
 How erring oft the judgment in its hate 145 
 
 Or fond desire ! Those slow-descending showers, 
 Those hovering fogs, that bathe our growing vales 
 In deep November (loath'd by trifling Gaul, 
 Effeminate), are gifts the Pleiads shed, 
 Britannia's handmaids : as the beverage falls 150 
 
 Her hills rejoice, her valleys laugh and sing. 
 
 Hail, noble Albion ! where no golden mines, 
 No soft perfumes, nor oils, nor myrtle bowers,
 
 52 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The vigorous frame and lofty heart of man. 
 Enervate : round whose stern cerulean brows 155 
 
 White-winged snow, and cloud, and pearly rain, 
 Frequent attend, with solemn majesty : 
 Rich queen of Mists and Vapours ! these thy sons 
 With their cool arms compress, and twist their nerves 
 For deeds of excellence and high renown. 160 
 
 Thus form'd, our Edwards, Henries, Churchills, 
 
 Blakes, 
 Our Lockes, our Newtons, and our Miltons, rose. 
 
 See the sun gleams ; the living pastures rise, 
 After the nurture of the fallen shower, 
 How beautiful ! how blue th' ethereal vault ! 165 
 
 How verdurous the lawns ! how clear the brooks ! 
 Such noble warlike steeds, such herds of kine, 
 So sleek, so vast ! such spacious flocks of sheep, 
 Like flakes of gold illumining the green, 
 What other paradise adorn but thine, 170 
 
 Britannia ! happy if thy sons would know 
 Their happiness. To these thy naval streams, 
 Thy frequent towns superb of busy trade, 
 And ports magninc, add, and stately ships 
 Innumerous. But whither strays my Muse? 175 
 
 Pleas'd, like a traveller upon the strand 
 Arriv'd of bright Augusta, wild he roves, 
 From deck to deck, thro' groves immense of masts ; 
 'Mong crowds, bales, cars, the wealth of either Ind ; 
 Thro' wharfs, squares, and palaces, and domes, 180 
 In sweet surprise, unable yet to fix 
 His raptur'd mind, or scan in order'd course 
 Each object singly, with discoveries new 
 His native country studious to enrich. 
 
 Ye Shepherds ! if your labours hope success, 185 
 Be first your purpose to procure a breed 
 To soil and clime adapted. Every soil
 
 THE FLEECE 53 
 
 And clime, ev'n every tree and herb, receives 
 
 Its habitant peculiar : each to each 
 
 The Great Invisible, and each to all, 190 
 
 Thro' earth, and sea, and air, harmonious suits. 
 
 Tempestuous regions, Darwent's naked Peaks, 
 
 Snowden and blue Plynlymmon, and the wide 
 
 Aerial sides of Cader-ydris huge ; 
 
 These are bestow'd on goat-horned sheep, of Fleece *95 
 
 Hairy and coarse, of long and nimble shank, 
 
 Who rove o'er bog or heath, and graze or brouze 
 
 Alternate, to collect, with due dispatch, 
 
 O'er the bleak wild, the thinly-scatter'd meal : 
 
 But hills of milder air, that gently rise 2 
 
 O'er dewy dales, a fairer species boast, 
 
 Of shorter limb, and frontlet more ornate : 
 
 Such the Silurian. If thy farm extends 
 
 Near Cotswold Downs, or the delicious groves 
 
 Of Symmonds, honour'd thro' the sandy soil 205 
 
 Of elmy Ross, or Devon's myrtle vales, 
 
 That drink clear rivers near the glassy sea, 
 
 Regard this sort, and hence thy sire of lambs 
 
 Select : his tawny Fleece in ringlets curl ; 
 
 Long swings his slender tail ; his front is fenc'd 2I 
 
 With horns Ammonian, circulating twice 
 
 Around each open ear, like those fair scrolls 
 
 That grace the columns of th' Ionic dome. 
 
 Yet should thy fertile glebe be marly clay, 
 Like Melton pastures, or Tripontian fields, 215 
 
 Where ever-gliding Avon's limpid wave 
 Thwarts the long course of dusty Watling-street ; 
 That larger sort, of head defenceless, seek, 
 Whose Fleece is deep and clammy, close and plain : 
 The ram short-limbed, whose form compact 
 
 describes 220 
 
 One level line along his spacious back ;
 
 54 
 
 Of full and ruddy eye, large ears, stretch'd head, 
 Nostrils dilated, breast and shoulders broad, 
 And spacious haunches, and a lofty dock. 
 
 Thus to their kindred soil and air induc'd, 225 
 
 Thy thriving herd will bless thy skilful care, 
 That copies Nature, who, in every change, 
 In each variety, with wisdom works, 
 And powers diversifi'd of air and soil, 
 Her rich materials. Hence Sabasa's rocks, 230 
 
 Chaldrea's marie, Egyptus' water'd loam, 
 And dry Gyrene's sand, in climes alike, 
 With different stores supply the marts of trade : 
 Hence Zembla's icy tracks no bleaters hear : 
 Small are the Russian herds, and harsh their Fleece; 235 
 Of light esteem Germanic, far remote 
 From soft sea-breezes, open winters mild, 
 And summers bath'd in dew : on Syrian sheep 
 The costly burden only loads their tails : 
 No locks Gormandel's, none Malacca's, tribe 240 
 
 Adorn ; but sleek of flix, and brown like deer, 
 Fearful and shepherdless, they bound along 
 The sands. No Fleeces wave in torrid climes, 
 Which verdure boast of trees and shrubs alone, 
 Shrubs aromatic, caufee wild, or thea, 2 45 
 
 Nutmeg, or cinnamon, or fiery clove, 
 Unapt to feed the Fleece. The food of wool 
 Is grass or herbage soft, that ever blooms 
 In temp'rate air, in the delicious downs 
 Of Albion, on the banks of all her streams. 250 
 
 Of grasses are unnumber'd kinds, and all 
 (Save where foul waters linger on the turf) 
 Salubrious. Early mark when tepid gleams 
 Oft mingle with the pearls of summer showers, 
 And swell too hastily the tender plains ; 255 
 
 Then snatch away thy sheep : beware the rot ;
 
 THE FLEECE 55 
 
 And with detersive bay-salt rub their mouths, 
 
 Or urge them on a barren bank to feed, 
 
 In hunger's kind distress, on tedded hay ; 
 
 Or to the marish guide their easy steps, 260 
 
 If near thy tufted crofts the broad sea spreads. 
 
 Sagacious care foreacts. When strong disease 
 
 Breaks in, and stains the purple streams of health, 
 
 Hard is the strife of art. The coughing pest 
 
 From their green pasture sweeps whole flocks away. 265 
 
 That dire distemper, sometimes may the swain, 
 Tho' late, discern ; when on the lifted lid, 
 Or visual orb, the turgid veins are pale, 
 The swelling liver then her putrid store 
 Begins to drink : ev'n yet thy skill exert, 2 7 
 
 Nor suffer weak despair to fold thy arms ; 
 Again detersive salt apply, or shed 
 The hoary med'cine o'er their arid food. 
 
 In cold stiff soils the bleaters oft complain 
 Of gouty ails, by shepherds term'd the Halt : 2 75 
 
 Those let the neighb'ring fold or ready crook 
 Detain, and pour into their cloven feet 
 Corrosive drugs, deep-searching arsenic, 
 Dry allum, verdigrise, or vitriole keen : 
 But if the doubtful mischief scarce appears, 280 
 
 'Twill serve to shift them to a dryer turf, 
 And salt again. Th' utility of salt 
 Teach thy slow swains ; redundant humours cold 
 Are the diseases of the bleating kind. 
 
 Th' infectious scab, arising from extremes 285 
 
 Of want or surfeit, is by water cured 
 Of lime, or sodden staves-acre, or oil 
 Dispersive of Norwegian tar, renown'd 
 By virtuous Berkeley, whose benevolence 
 Explored its pow'rs, and easy med'cine thence 290 
 Sought for the poor. Ye PoorJ with grateful voice
 
 56 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Invoke eternal blessings on his head. 
 
 Sheep also pleurisies and dropsies know, 
 Driven oft from Nature's path by artful man, 
 Who blindly turns aside, with haughty hand, 2 95 
 
 Whom sacred Instinct would securely lead. 
 But thou, more humble Swain ! thy rural gates 
 Frequent unbar, and let thy flocks abroad 
 From lea to croft, from mead to arid field, 
 Noting the fickle seasons of the sky. 300 
 
 Rain-sated pastures let them shun, and seek 
 Changes of herbage and salubrious flowers. 
 By their All-perfect Master inly taught, 
 They best their food and physic can discern ; 
 For He, Supreme Existence ! ever near, 305 
 
 Informs them. O'er the vivid green observe 
 With what a regular consent they crop, 
 At every fourth collection to the mouth, 
 Unsav'ry crow-flow'r ; whether to awake 
 Languor of appetite with lively change, 310 
 
 Or timely to repel approaching ills, 
 Hard to determine. Thou, whom Nature loves, 
 And with her salutary rules intrusts, 
 Benevolent Mackenzie ! say the cause. 
 This truth howe'er shines bright to human sense ; 3 J 5 
 Each strong affection of th' unconscious brute, 
 Each bent, each passion of the smallest mite, 
 Is wisely giv'n : harmonious they perform 
 The work of perfect reason (blush, vain Man !), 
 And turn the wheels of Nature's vast machine. '.." 3 20 
 
 See that thy scrip have store of healing tar, 
 And marking pitch and raddle ; nor forget 
 Thy shears true pointed, nor th' officious dog, 
 Faithful to teach thy stragglers to return ; 
 So may'sf thou aid who lag along, or steal 325 
 
 Aside into the furrows" or the shades,
 
 THE FLEECE 57 
 
 Silent to droop ; or who at ev'ry gate 
 
 Or hillock rub their sores and loosen'd wool. 
 
 But rather these, the feeble of thy flock, 
 
 Banish before th' autumnal months. Ev'n age 330 
 
 Forbear too much to favour : oft renew 
 
 And thro' thy fold let joyous youth appear. 
 
 Beware the season of imperial Love, 
 Who thro' the world his ardent spirit pours ; 
 Ev'n sheep are then intrepid ! the proud ram 335 
 With jealous eye surveys the spacious field : 
 All rivals keep aloof, or desp'rate war 
 Suddenly rages ; with impetuous force, 
 And fury irresistible, they dash 
 
 Their hardy frontlets : the wide vale resounds : 340 
 The flock, amaz'd, stands safe afar ; and oft 
 Each to the other's might a victim falls ; 
 As fell of old, before that engine's sway, 
 Which hence ambition imitative wrought, 
 The beauteous tow'rs of Salem to the dust. 345 
 
 Wise custom at the fifth or six return, 
 Or ere they 'ave past the twelfth, of orient morn, 
 Castrates the lambkins ; necessary rite, 
 Ere they be number'd of the peaceful herd. 
 But kindly watch whom thy sharp hand has grieved, 350 
 In those rough months that lift the turning year : 
 Not tedious is the office ; to thy aid 
 Favonius hastens ; soon their wounds he heals, 
 And leads them skipping to the flow'rs of May ; 
 May ! who allows to fold, if poor the tilth, 355 
 
 Like that of dreary houseless common fields, 
 Worn by the plough ; but fold on fallows dry. 
 Enfeeble not thy flock to feed thy land, 
 Nor in too narrow bounds the pris'ners crowd ; 
 Nor ope the wattled fence while balmy Mom 360 
 
 Lies on the reeking pasture : wait till all
 
 58 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The crystal dews, impearl'd upon the grass, 
 
 Are touch'd by Phoebus' beams, and mount aloft, 
 
 With various clouds to paint the azure sky. 
 
 In teasing fly-time, dank or frosty days, 3 6 5 
 
 With unctuous liquids, or the lees of oil, 
 Rub their soft skins between the parted locks : 
 Thus the Brigantes: 't is not idle pains: 
 Nor is that skill despis'd which trims their tails, 
 Ere summer-heats, of filth and tagged wool. 37 
 
 Coolness and cleanliness to health conduce. 
 
 To mend thy mounds, to trench, to clear, to soil, 
 Thy grateful fields, to medicate thy sheep, 
 Hurdles to weave, and cheerly shelters raise, 
 Thy vacant hours require ; and ever learn 375 
 
 Quick ether's motions : oft the scene is turn'd ; 
 Now the blue vault, and now the murky cloud, 
 Hail, rain, or radiance: these the moon will tell, 
 Each bird and beast, and these thy fleecy tribe. 
 When high the sapphire cope, supine they couch, 380 
 And chew the cud delighted ; but ere rain 
 Eager, and at unwonted hour, they feed. 
 Slight not the warning ; soon the tempest rolls, 
 Scatt'ring them wide, close rushing at the heels 
 Of th' hurrying o'ertaken swains : forbear 3^5 
 
 Such nights to fold ; such nights be theirs to shift 
 On ridge or hillock ; or in homesteads soft, 
 Or softer cots, detain them. Is thy lot 
 A chill penurious turf, to all thy toils 
 Untractable ? Before harsh winter drowns 39 
 
 The noisy dykes, and starves the rushy glebe, 
 Shift the frail breed to sandy hamlets warm ; 
 There let them sojourn, till gay Procne skims 
 The thick'ning verdure and the rising flow'rs. 
 And while departing autumn all embrowns 395 
 
 The frequent-bitten fields, while thy free hand
 
 59 
 
 Divides the tedded hay, then be their feet 
 
 Accustom'd to the barriers of the rick, 
 
 Or some warm umbrage ; left, in erring flight, 
 
 When the broad dazzling snows descend, they run 400 
 
 Dispers'd to ditches, where the swelling drift 
 
 Wide overwhelms: anxious, the shepherd swains 
 
 Issue with axe and spade, and, all abroad, 
 
 In doubtful aim explore the glaring waste, 
 
 And some, perchance, in the deep delve upraise, 45 
 
 Drooping, ev'n at the twelfth cold dreary day, 
 
 With still continu'd feeble pulse of life, 
 
 The glebe, their Fleece, their flesh, by hunger gnaw'd. 
 
 Ah, gentle Shepherd ! thine the lot to tend, 
 Of all that feel distress, the most assail'd, 410 
 
 Feeble, defenceless : lenient be thy care ; 
 But spread around thy tend'rest diligence 
 In flow'ry spring-time, when the new-dropp'd lamb, 
 Tott'ring with weakness by his mother's side, 
 Feels the fresh world about him, and each thorn, 4'5 
 Hillock, or furrow, trips his feeble feet : 
 O ! guard his meek sweet innocence from all 
 Th' innumerous ills that rush around his life ; 
 Mark the quick kite, with beak and talons prone, 
 Circling the skies to snatch him from the plain ; 420 
 Observe the lurking crows ; beware the brake, 
 There the sly fox the careless minute waits ; 
 Nor trust thy neighbour's dog, nor earth, nor sky : 
 Thy bosom to a thousand cares divide. 
 Eurus oft slings his hail ; the tardy fields 4 2 5 
 
 Pay not their promis'd food ; and oft the dam 
 O'er her weak twins with empty udder mourns, 
 Or fails to guard when the bold bird of prey 
 Alights, and hops in many turns around, 
 And tires her, also turning : to her aid 43 
 
 Be nimble, and the weakest in thine arms
 
 60 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Gently convey to the warm cot and oft, 
 
 Between the lark's note and the nightingale's, 
 
 His hungry bleating still with tepid milk : 
 
 In this soft office may thy children join, 435 
 
 And charitable habits learn in sport : 
 
 Nor yield him to himself ere vernal airs 
 
 Sprinkle thy little croft with daisy flowers : 
 
 Nor yet forget him ; life has rising ills : 
 
 Various as ether is the past'ral care : 440 
 
 Thro' slow experience, by a patient breast, 
 
 The whole long lesson gradual is attain'd, 
 
 By precept after precept, oft receiv'd 
 
 With deep attention ; such as Nuceus sings 
 
 To the full vale near Soar's enamour'd brook, 445 
 
 While all is silence : sweet Hinclean swain ! 
 
 Whom rude Obscurity severely clasps : 
 
 The Muse, howe'er, will deck thy simple cell 
 
 With purple violets and primrose flowers, 
 
 Well-pleas'd thy faithful lessons to repay. 45 
 
 Sheep no extremes can bear : both heat and cold 
 Spread sores cutaneous ; but more frequent heat. 
 The fly-blown vermin from their woolly nest 
 Press to the tortur'd skin, and flesh, and bone, 
 In littleness and number dreadful foes ! 455 
 
 Long rains in miry winter cause the halt ; 
 Rainy luxuriant summers rot your flock ; 
 And all excess, ev'n of salubrious food, 
 As sure destroys as famine or the wolf. 
 Inferior theirs to man's world-roving frame, 460 
 
 Which all extremes in every zone endures. 
 
 With grateful heart, ye British Swains ! enjoy 
 Your gentle seasons and indulgent clime. 
 Lo ! in the sprinkling clouds your bleating hills 
 Rejoice with herbage, while the horrid rage 4 6 5 
 
 Of winter irresistible o'erwhelrqs
 
 THE FLEECE 6 1 
 
 Th' Hyperborean tracks : his arrowy frosts, 
 
 That pierce thro' flinty rocks, the Lappian flies, 
 
 And burrows deep beneath the snowy world ; 
 
 A drear abode ! from rose diffusing hours, 47 
 
 That dance before the wheels of radiant day, 
 
 Far, far remote ; where, by the squalid light 
 
 Of fetid oil inflam'd, sea-monsters' spume, 
 
 Or fir-wood, glaring in the weeping vault, 
 
 Twice three slow gloomy months with various ills .475 
 
 Sullen he struggles ; such the love of life ! 
 
 His lank and scanty herds around him press, 
 
 As, hunger-stung, to gritty meal he grinds 
 
 The bones of fish, or inward bark of trees, 
 
 Their common sustenance ; while ye, O Swains ! 480 
 
 Ye, happy at your ease, behold your sheep 
 
 Feed on the open turf, or crowd the tilth, 
 
 Where, thick among the greens, with busy mouths 
 
 They scoop white turnips : little care is yours ; 
 
 Only at morning hour to interpose 485 
 
 Dry food of oats, or hay, or brittle straw, 
 
 The wat'ry juices of the bossy root 
 
 Absorbing ; or from noxious air to screen 
 
 Your heavy teeming ewes with wattled fence 
 
 Of furze or copse-wood in the lofty field, 49 
 
 Which bleak ascends among the whistling winds : 
 
 Or, if your sheep are of Silurian breed, 
 
 Nightly to house them dry on fern or straw, 
 
 Silk'ning their Fleeces. Ye nor rolling hut 
 
 Nor watchful dog require, where never roar 495 
 
 Of savage tears the air, where careless Night 
 
 In balmy sleep lies lull'd, and only wakes 
 
 To plenteous peace. Alas ! o'er warmer zones 
 
 Wild terror strides, their stubborn rocks are rent, 
 
 Their mountains sink, their yawning caverns flame, 5 
 
 And liery torrents roll impetuous down,
 
 62 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Proud cities deluging ; Pompeian tow'rs, 
 
 And Herculanean, and what riotous stood 
 
 In Syrian valley, where now the Dead Sea 
 
 'Mong solitary hills infectious lies. 55 
 
 See the swift Furies, famine, plague, and war, 
 In frequent thunders rage o'er neighboring realms, 
 And spread their plains with desolation wide ! 
 Yet your mild homesteads ever-blooming smile 
 Among embracing woods, and waft on high 5 10 
 
 The breath of plenty, from the ruddy tops 
 Of chimneys curling o'er the gloomy trees 
 In airy azure ringlets to the sky. 
 Nor ye by need are urg'd, as Attic swains, 
 And Tarentine, with skins to clothe your sheep, 5 J 5 
 Expensive toil, howe'er expedient found 
 In fervid climates, while from Phoebus' beams 
 They fled to rugged woods and tangling brakes. 
 But those expensive toils are now no more, 
 Proud Tyranny devours their flocks and herds : 5 20 
 Nor bleat of sheep may now, nor sound of pipe, 
 Sooth the sad plains of once sweet Arcady, 
 The shepherds' kingdom : dreary solitude 
 Spreads o'er Hymettus, and the shaggy vale 
 Of Athens, which in solemn silence sheds 5 2 5 
 
 Her venerable ruins to the dust. 
 
 The weary Arabs roam from plain to plain, 
 Guiding the languid herd in quest of food, 
 And shift their little home's uncertain scene 
 With frequent farewell ; strangers, pilgrims all, 53 
 As were their fathers. No sweet fall of rain 
 May there be heard ; nor sweeter liquid lapse 
 Of river, o'er the pebbles gliding by 
 In murmurs : goaded by the rage of thirst, 
 Daily they journey to the distant clefts 535 
 
 Of craggy rocks, where gloomy palms o'erhang
 
 THE FLEECE 63 
 
 The ancient wells, deep sunk by toil immense, 
 
 Toil of the patriarchs, with sublime intent 
 
 Themselves and long posterity to serve. 
 
 There, at the public hour of sultry noon, 540 
 
 They share the bev'rage, when to wat'ring come, 
 
 And grateful umbrage, all the tribes around, 
 
 And their lean flocks, whose various bleatings fill 
 
 The echoing caverns : then is absent none, 
 
 Fair nymph or shepherd, each inspiring each 545 
 
 To wit, and song, and dance, and active feats ; 
 
 In the same rustic scene, where Jacob won 
 
 Fair Rachel's bosom, when a rock's vast weight 
 
 From the deep dark-mouth'd well his strength remov'd, 
 
 And to her circling sheep refreshment gave. 550 
 
 Such are the perils, such the toils, of life, 
 In foreign climes. But speed thy flight, my Muse ! 
 Swift turns the year, and our unnumber'd flocks 
 On Fleeces overgrown uneasy lie. 
 
 Now, jolly Swains ! the harvest of your cares 555 
 Prepare to reap, and seek the sounding caves 
 Of high Brigantium, where, by ruddy flames, 
 Vulcan's strong sons, with nervous arm, around 
 The steady anvil and the glaring mass 
 Clatter their heavy hammers down by turns, 5 60 
 
 Flatt'ning the steel : from their rough hands receive 
 The sharpen'd instrument that from the flock 
 Severs the Fleece. If verdant elder spreads 
 Her silver flow'rs ; if humble daisies yield 
 To yellow crow-foot, and luxuriant grass, 565 
 
 Gay shearing-time approaches. First, howe'er, 
 Drive to the double fold, upon the brim 
 Of a clear river, gently drive the flock, 
 And plunge them one by one into the flood : 
 Plung'd in the flood, not long the struggler sinks, 570 
 With his white flakes that glisten thro' the tide ;
 
 64 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The sturdy rustic, in the middle wave, 
 
 Awaits to seize him rising ; one arm bears 
 
 His lifted head above the limpid strearrij 
 
 While the full clammy Fleece the other laves 575 
 
 Around, laborious, with repeated toil ; 
 
 And then resigns him to the sunny bank, 
 
 Where, bleating loud, he shakes his dripping locks. 
 
 Shear them the fourth or fifth return of morn, 
 Lest touch of busy fly-blows wound their skin. 580 
 Thy peaceful subjects without murmur yield - 
 Their yearly tribute : 'tis the prudent part 
 To cherish and be gentle, while ye strip 
 The downy vesture from their tender sides. 
 Press not too close ; with caution turn the points, 585 
 And from the head in regular rounds proceed : 
 But speedy, when ye chance to wound, with tar 
 Prevent the wingy swarm and scorching heat ; 
 And careful house them, if the low'ring clouds 
 Mingle their stores tumultuous : thro' the gloom 590 
 Then thunder oft with pond'rous wheels rolls loud, 
 And breaks the crystal urns of heav'n ; adown 
 Falls streaming rain. Sometimes among the steeps 
 Of Cambrian glades (pity the Cambrian glades !) 
 Fast tumbling brooks on brooks enormous swell, 595 
 And sudden overwhelm their vanish'd fields : 
 Down with the flood away the naked sheep, 
 Bleating in vain, are borne, and straw-built huts, 
 And rifted trees, and heavy enormous rocks, 
 Down with the rapid torrent to the deep. 600 
 
 At shearing-time along the lively vales 
 Rural festivities are often heard ; 
 Beneath each blooming arbour all is joy 
 And lusty merriment. While on the grass 
 The mingled youth in gaudy circles sport, 605 
 
 We think the Golden Age again return'd,
 
 THE FLEECE 65 
 
 And all the fabled Dryades in dance : 
 
 Leering they bound along, with laughing air, 
 
 To the shrill pipe, and deep remurm'ring-cords 
 
 Of th' ancient harp, or tabor's hollow sound. 610 
 
 While th' old apart, upon a bank reclin'd, 
 Attend the tuneful carol, softly mix'd 
 With every murmur of the sliding wave, 
 And every warble of the feather'd choir, 
 Music of Paradise! which still is heard 615 
 
 When the heart listens, still the views appear 
 Of the first happy garden, when Content 
 To Nature's flowery scenes directs the sight. 
 Yet we abandon those Elysian walks, 
 Then idly for the lost delight repine ; 620 
 
 As greedy mariners, whose desp'rate sails 
 Skim o'er the billows of the foamy flood, 
 Fancy they see the lessening shores retire, 
 And sigh a farewell to the sinking hills. 
 
 Could I recall those notes which once the Muse 625 
 Heard at a shearing, near the woody sides 
 Of blue-topp'd Wreakin ! Yet the carols sweet 
 Thro' the deep maze of the memorial cell 
 Faintly remurmur. First arose in song 
 Hoar-headed Damon, venerable Swain ! 630 
 
 The soothest shepherd of the flow'ry vale, 
 " This is no vulgar scene ; no palace roof 
 Was e'er so lofty, nor so nobly rise 
 Their polish'd pillars as these aged oaks, 
 Which o'er our Fleecy wealth and harmless sports 635 
 Thus have expanded wide their shelt'ring arms 
 Thrice told an hundred summers. Sweet Content, 
 Ye gentle shepherds ! pillow us at night" 
 
 " Yes, tuneful Damon, for our cares are short, 
 Rising and falling with the cheerful day," 640 
 
 Colin reply'd ; " and pleasing weariness 
 E
 
 66 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Soon our unaching heads to sleep inclines. 
 
 Is it in cities so ? where, poets tell, 
 
 The cries of Sorrow sadden all the streets, 
 
 And the diseases of intemp'rate wealth. 645 
 
 Alas ! that any ills from wealth should rise ! " 
 
 " May the sweet nightingale on yonder spray, 
 May this clear stream, those lawns, these snow-white 
 
 lambs, 
 
 Which with a pretty innocence of look 
 Skip on the green, and race in little troops ; 650 
 
 May that great lamp which sinks behind the hills, 
 And streams around variety of lights, 
 Recall them erring ! this is Damon's wish." 
 
 " Huge Breaden's stony summit once I climb'd 
 After a kidling : Damon, what a scene ! 655 
 
 What various views unnumberd spread beneath ! 
 Woods, tow'rs, vales, caves, dells, cliffs, and torrent 
 
 floods, 
 
 And here and there, between the spiry rocks, 
 The broad flat sea. Far nobler prospects these 
 Than gardens black with smoke in dusty towns, 660 
 Where stenchy vapours often blot the sun : 
 Yet, flying from his quiet, thither crowds 
 Each greedy wretch for tardy-rising wealth, 
 Which comes too late, that courts the taste in vain, 
 Or nauseates with distempers. Yes, ye Rich ! 665 
 Still, still be rich, if thus ye fashion life ; 
 And piping, careless, silly shepherds we, 
 We silly shepherds, all intent to feed 
 Our snowy flocks, and wind the sleeky Fleece." 
 
 " Deem not, however, our occupation mean," 670 
 Damon reply'd, " while the Supreme accounts 
 Well of the faithful shepherd, rank'd alike 
 With king and priest : they also shepherds are ; 
 For so th' All-seeing styles them, to remind
 
 THE FLEECE 67 
 
 Elated man, forgetful of his charge." 675 
 
 " But haste, begin the rites : see purple Eve 
 Stretches her shadows : all ye Nymphs and Swains ! 
 Hither assemble. Pleas'd with honours due, 
 Sabrina, guardian of the crystal flood, 
 Shall bless our cares, when she by moonlight clear 680 
 Skims o'er the dales, and eyes our sleeping folds ; 
 Or in hoar caves around Plynlymmon's brow, 
 Where precious minerals dart their purple gleams, 
 Among her sisters she reclines ; the lov'd 
 Vaga, profuse of graces, Ryddol rough, 685 
 
 Blithe Ystwith, and Clevedoc, swift of foot ; 
 And mingles various seeds of flow'rs and herbs, 
 In the divided torrents, ere they burst 
 Thro' the dark clouds, and down the mountain roll. 
 Nor taint-worm shall infect the yeaning herds, 690 
 Nor penny-grass nor spearwort's pois'nous leaf." 
 He said : with light fantastic toe the nymphs 
 Thither assembled, thither every swain ; 
 And o'er the dimpled stream a thousand flow'rs, 
 Pale lilies, roses, violets, and pinks, (95 
 
 Mix'd with the greens of burnet, mint, and thyme, 
 And trefoil, sprinkled 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 7o 
 
 The search of Guendolen, her stepdame proud, 
 With envious hate enrag'd. The jolly cheer, 
 Spread on a mossy bank, untouch'd abides 
 Till cease the rites ; and now the mossy bank 
 Is gaily circled, and the jolly cheer 7S 
 
 Dispers'd in copious measure; early fruits, 
 And those of frugal store, in husk or rind ; 
 Steep'd grain, and curdled milk with dulcet cream 
 Soft temper'd, in full merriment they quaff,
 
 68 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 And cast about their gibes ; and some apace 7io 
 
 Whistle to roundelays : their little ones 
 
 Look on delighted ; while the mountain-woods 
 
 And winding valleys with the various notes 
 
 Of pipe, sheep, kine, and birds, and liquid brooks, 
 
 Unite their echoes : near at hand the wide 7^ 
 
 Majestic wave of Severn slowly rolls 
 
 Along the deep-divided glebe : the flood, 
 
 And trading bark with low contracted sail, 
 
 Linger among the reeds and copsy banks 
 
 To listen, and to view the joyous scene. 7 2 
 
 BOOK II 
 
 Now of the sever'd lock begin the song 
 With various numbers, thro' the simple theme 
 To win attention : this, ye Shepherd Swains ! 
 This is a labour. Yet, O Wray ! if thou 
 Cease not with skilful hand to point her way, 
 The lark-wing'd Muse above the grassy vale, 
 And hills, and woods, shall, singing soar aloft ; 
 And he whom learning, wisdom, candour, grace, 
 Who glows with all the virtues of his sire, 
 Royston ! approve, and patronise the strain. 
 Thro' all the brute creation none as sheep 
 To lordly man such ample tribute pay. 
 For him their udders yield nectareous streams ; 
 For him their downy vestures they resign ; 
 For him they spread the feast : ah ! ne'er may he 
 Glory in wants which doom to pain and death
 
 THE FLEECE 69 
 
 His blameless fellow-creatures. Let disease, 
 
 Let wasted hunger, by destroying live, 
 
 And the permission use with trembling thanks, 
 
 Meekly reluctant : 't is the brute beyond ; 20 
 
 And gluttons ever murder when they kill. 
 
 Ev'n to the reptile every cruel deed 
 
 Is high impiety. Howe'er not all, 
 
 Not of the sanguinary tribe are all ; 
 
 All are not savage. Come, ye gentle Swains ! 25 
 
 Like Brama's healthy sons on Indus' banks, 
 
 Whom the pure stream and garden fruits sustain ; 
 
 Ye are the sons of Nature ; your mild hands 
 
 Are innocent : ye when ye shear relieve. 
 
 Come, gentle Swains ! the bright unsully'd locks 3 
 
 Collect ; alternate songs shall soothe your cares, 
 
 And warbling music break from every spray. 
 
 Be faithful, and the genuine locks alone 
 
 Wrap round ; nor alien flake nor pitch enfold ; 
 
 Stain not your stores with base desire to add 35 
 
 Fallacious weight ; nor yet, to mimic those, 
 
 Minute and light, of sandy Urchinfield, 
 
 Lessen, with subtle artifice, the Fleece ; 
 
 Equal the fraud : nor interpose delay, 
 
 Lest busy ether thro' the open wool 40 
 
 Debilitating pass, and every film 
 
 Ruffle and sully with the valley's dust. 
 
 Guard, too, from moisture, and the fretting moth 
 
 Pernicious : she, in gloomy shade conceal'd, 
 
 Her labyrinth cuts, and mocks the comber's care: 45 
 
 But in loose locks of fells she most delights, 
 
 And feeble Fleeces of distemper'd sheep, 
 
 Whither she hastens, by the morbid scent 
 
 Allur'd, as the swift eagle to the fields 
 
 Of slaught'ring war or carnage : such apart 5 
 
 Keep for their proper use : our ancestors
 
 70 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Selected such for hospitable beds 
 To rest the stranger, or the gory chief 
 From battle or the chase of wolves return'd. 
 
 When many-colour'd ev'ning sinks behind 55 
 
 The purple woods and hills, and opposite 
 Rises, full-orb'd, the silver harvest moon, 
 To light th' unwearied farmer, late a-field 
 His scatter'd sheaves collecting, then expect 
 The artists, bent on speed, from populous Leeds, 60 
 Norwich, or Froome ; they traverse every plain 
 And every dale where farm or cottage smokes : 
 Reject them not ; and let the season's price 
 Win thy soft treasures ; let the bulky wain 
 Thro' dusty roads roll nodding ; or the bark, 65 
 
 That silently adown the cerule stream 
 Glides with white sails, dispense the downy freight 
 To copsy villages on either side, 
 And spiry towns, where ready Diligence, 
 The grateful burden to receive, awaits, 70 
 
 Like strong Briareus, with his hundred hands. 
 
 In the same Fleece diversity of wool 
 Grows intermingled, and excites the care 
 Of curious skill to sort the several kinds. 
 But in this subtle science none exceed 75 
 
 Th' industrious Belgians, to the work who guide 
 Each feeble hand of want : their spacious domes, 
 With boundless hospitality, receive 
 Each nation's outcasts : there the tender eye 
 May view the maim'd, the blind, the lame, employ'd, 80 
 And unreject'd age : ev'n childhood there 
 Its little fingers turning to the toil 
 Delighted : nimbly, with habitual speed, 
 They sever lock from lock, and long, and short, 
 And soft, and rigid, pile in sev'ral heaps. 85 
 
 This the dusk hatter asks : another shines
 
 THE FLEECE 71 
 
 Tempting the clothier ; that the hosier seeks ; 
 
 The long bright lock is apt for airy stuffs ; 
 
 But often it deceives the artist's care, 
 
 Breaking unuseful in the steely comb : 90 
 
 For this long spungy wool no more increase 
 
 Receives while winter petrifies the fields : 
 
 The growth of Autumn stops ; and what tho' Spring 
 
 Succeeds with rosy finger, and spins on 
 
 The texture ? yet in vain she strives to link 95 
 
 The silver twine to that of Autumn's hand. 
 
 Be then the swain advis'd to shield his flocks 
 
 From winter's dead'ning frosts and whelming snows ; 
 
 Let the loud tempest rattle on the roof, 
 
 While they, secure within, warm cribs enjoy, 100 
 
 And swell their Fleeces, equal to the worth 
 
 Of cloath'd Apulian, by soft warmth improv'd ; 
 
 Or let them inward heat and vigour find 
 
 By food of cole or turnip, hardy plants. 
 
 Besides, the lock of one continued growth 105 
 
 Imbibes a clearer and more equal dye. 
 
 But lightest wool is theirs who poorly toil 
 Thro' a dull round in unim proving farms 
 Of common fields. Inclose, inclose, ye Swains ! 
 Why will you joy in common field, where pitch, no 
 Noxious to wood, must stain your motley flock, 
 To mark your property ? the mark dilates, 
 Enters the flake depreciated, defil'd, 
 Unfit for beauteous tint. Besides, in fields 
 Promiscuous held all culture languishes ; 115 
 
 The glebe, exhausted, thin supply receives ; 
 Dull waters rest upon the rushy flats 
 And barren furrows : none the rising grove 
 There plants for late posterity, nor hedge 
 To shield the flock, nor copse for cheering fire ; 120 
 And in the distant village every hearth
 
 ?2 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Devours the grassy sward, the verdant food 
 Of injur'd herds and flocks, or what the plough 
 Should turn and moulder for the bearded grain : 
 Pernicious habit ! drawing gradual on 125 
 
 Increasing beggary, and Nature's frowns. 
 Add too, the idle pilf'rer easier there 
 Eludes detection, when a lamb or ewe 
 From intermingled flocks he steals ; or when, 
 With loosen'd tether of his horse or cow, 130 
 
 The milky stalk of the tall green-ear'd corn, 
 The year's slow rip'ning fruit, the anxious hope 
 Of his laborious neighbour, he destroys. 
 
 There are who over-rate our spungy stores, 
 Who deem that Nature grants no clime but ours 135 
 To spread upon its fields the dews of heav'n, 
 And feed the silky Fleece ; that card nor comb 
 The hairy wool of Gaul can ne'er subdue, 
 To form the thread, and mingle in the loom, 
 Unless a third from Britain swell the heap : 140 
 
 Illusion all ; tho' of our sun and air 
 Not trivial is the virtue, nor their fruit 
 Upon our snowy flocks of small esteem : 
 The grain of brightest tincture none so well 
 Imbibes : the wealthy Gobelins must to this 145 
 
 Bear witness, and the costliest of their looms. 
 
 And though with hue of crocus or of rose 
 No pow'r of subtle food, or air, or soil, 
 Can dye the living Fleece ; yet 't will avail 
 To note their influence in the tinging vase : 150 
 
 Therefore from herbage of old pastur'd plains, 
 Chief from the matted turf of azure marl 
 Where grow the whitest locks, collect thy stores. 
 Those fields regard not thro' whose recent turf 
 The miry soil appears ; nor ev'n the streams *55 
 
 Of Yare or silver Stroud can purify
 
 THE FLEECE 73 
 
 Their frequent fully'd Fleece ; nor what rough winds, 
 Keen biting on tempestuous hills, imbrown. 
 
 Yet much may be perform'd to check the force 
 Of Nature's rigour : the high heath, by trees 160 
 
 Warm shelter'd, may despise the rage of storms : 
 Moors, bogs, and weeping fens, may learn to smile, 
 And leave in dikes their soon-forgotten tears. 
 Labour and Art will every aim achieve 
 Of noble bosoms. Bedford Level, erst 165 
 
 A dreary pathless waste, the coughing flock 
 Was wont with hairy Fleeces to deform, 
 And, smiling with her lure of summer flow'rs, 
 'I he heavy ox vain struggling to ingulf; 
 Till one of that high honour'd patriot name, 170 
 
 Russel ! arose, who drain'd the rushy fen, 
 Confin'd the waves, bade groves and gardens bloom, 
 And thro' his new creation led the Ouze 
 And gentle Camus, silver-winding streams : 
 God-like beneficence ! from chaos drear 175 
 
 To raise the garden and the shady grove. 
 
 But see lerne's moors and hideous bogs, 
 Immeasurable track ! the traveller 
 Slow tries his mazy step on th' yielding tuft, 
 Shudd'ring with fear : ev'n such perfidious wilds, 180 
 By labour won, have yielded to the comb 
 The fairest length of wool. See Deeping Fens, 
 And the long lawns of Bourn. 'Tis art and toil 
 Gives Nature value, multiplies her stores, 
 Varies, improves, creates : 'tis art and toil 185 
 
 Teaches her woody hills with fruits to shine, 
 The pear and tasteful apple ; decks with flow'rs 
 And foodful pulse the fields that often rise, 
 Admiring to behold their furrows wave 
 With yellow corn. What changes cannot Toil, 19 
 With patient Art, effect ? There was a time
 
 74 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 When other regions were the swain's delight, 
 
 And shepherdless Britannia's rushy vales, 
 
 Inglorious, neither trade nor labour knew, 
 
 But of rude baskets, homely rustic gear, *95 
 
 Woven of the flexile willow ; till at length, 
 
 The plains of Sarum open'd to the hand 
 
 Of patient Culture, and o'er sinking woods 
 
 High Cotswold show'd her summits. Urchinfield, 
 
 And Lemster's crofts, beneath the pheasant's brake 2 
 
 Long lay unnoted. Toil new pasture gives, 
 
 And in the regions oft of active Gaul 
 
 O'er less'ning vineyards spreads the growing turf. 
 
 In eldest times, when kings and hardy chiefs 
 In bleating sheepfolds met, for purest wool 2 5 
 
 Phoenicia's hilly tracks were most renown'd, 
 And fertile Syria's and Judea's land, 
 Hermon and Seir, and Hebron's brooky sides. 
 Twice with these murex, crimson hue, they ting'd 
 The shining Fleeces; hence their gorgeous wealth; 2I 
 And hence arose the walls of ancient Tyre. 
 
 Next busy Colchis, bless'd with frequent rains 
 And lively verdure (who the lucid stream 
 Of Phasis boasted, and a portly race 
 Of fair inhabitants), improv'd the Fleece, 215 
 
 When, o'er the deep by flying Phryxus brought, 
 The fam'd Thessalian ram enrich'd her plains. 
 
 This rising Greece with indignation view'd, 
 And youthful Jason an attempt conceiv'd 
 Lofty and bold : along Peneus' banks, 22 
 
 Around Olympus' brows, the Muses' haunts, 
 He rouz'd the brave to re-demand the Fleece. 
 Attend, ye British Swains ! the ancient song. 
 From ev'ry region of ^Egea's shore 
 The brave assembled ; those illustrious twins, 22 5 
 Castor and Pollux ; Orpheus, tuneful bard ;
 
 THE FLEECE 75 
 
 Zetes and Calais, as the wind in speed ; 
 Strong Hercules, and many a chief renown'd. 
 On deep lolcos' sandy shore they throng'd, 
 Gleaming in armour, ardent of exploits ; 2 3 
 
 And soon the laurel cord and the huge stone 
 Uplifting to the deck, unmoor'd the bark, 
 Whose keel, of wondrous length, the skilful hand 
 Of Argus fashion'd for the proud attempt ; 
 And in th' extended keel a lofty mast 235 
 
 Uprais'd, and sails full swelling, to the chiefs 
 Unwonted objects : now first, now they learn'd 
 Their bolder steerage over ocean wave, 
 Led by the golden stars, as Chiron's art 
 Had mark'd the sphere celestial. Wide abroad 2 4 
 Expands the purple deep ; the cloudy isles, 
 Scyros and Scopelos, and Icos, rise, 
 And Halonesos : soon huge Lemnos heaves 
 Her azure head above the level brine, 
 Shakes off her mists, and brightens all her cliffs ; 2 45 
 While they, her flattering creeks and opening bowers 
 Cautious approaching, in Myrina's port 
 Cast out the cabled stone upon the strand. 
 Next to the Mysian shore they shape their course, 
 But with too eager haste : in the white foam 250 
 
 His oar Alcides breaks; howe'er, not long 
 The chance detains ; he springs upon the shore, 
 And rifting from the roots a tapering pine, 
 Renews his stroke. Between the threat'ning tow'rs 
 Of Hellespont they ply the rugged surge, 255 
 
 To Hero's and Leander's ardent love 
 Fatal ; then smooth Propontis' wid'ning wave, 
 That like a glassy lake expands, with hills, 
 Hills above hills, and gloomy woods, begirt : 
 And now the Thracian Bosphorus they dare, 260 
 
 Till the Symplegades, tremendous rocks !
 
 76 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Threaten approach ; but they, unterrify'd, 
 
 Thro' the sharp-pointed cliffs and thund'ring floods 
 
 Cleave their bold passage ; nathless by the crags. 
 
 And torrents sorely shatter'd : as the strong 265 
 
 Eagle or vulture, in th' entangling net 
 
 Involv'd, breaks thro', yet leaves his plumes behind, 
 
 Thus thro' the wide waves their slow way they force 
 
 To Thynia's hospitable isle. The brave 
 
 Pass many perils, and to fame by such 270 
 
 Experience rise. Refresh'd, again they speed 
 
 From cape to cape, and view unnumber'd streams, 
 
 Halys, with hoary Lycus, and the mouths 
 
 Of Apsarus and Glaucus, rolling swift 
 
 To the broad deep their tributary waves, 275 
 
 Till in the long-sought harbour they arrive 
 
 Of golden Phasis. Foremost on the strand 
 
 Jason advanc'd : the deep capacious bay, 
 
 The crumbling terrace of the marble port, 
 
 Wond'ring he view'd, and stately palace-domes, 280 
 
 Pavilions proud of Luxury : around, 
 
 In every glitt'ring hall, within, without, 
 
 O'er all the timbrel-sounding squares and streets 
 
 Nothing appear'd but luxury, and crowds 
 
 Sunk deep in riot. To the public weal 285 
 
 Attentive none he found ; for he, their chief 
 
 Of shepherds, proud Aee'tes, by the name 
 
 Sometimes of King distinguished, 'gan to slight 
 
 The shepherd's trade, and turn to song and dance : 
 
 Ev'n Hydrus ceas'd to watch ; Medea's songs 290 
 
 Of joy, and rosy youth, and beauty's charms, 
 
 With magic sweetness lull'd his cares asleep, 
 
 Till the bold heroes grasp'd the Golden Fleece. 
 
 Nimbly they wing'd the bark, surrounded soon 
 
 By Neptune's friendly waves : secure they speed 295 
 
 O'er the known seas, by ev'ry guiding cape,
 
 THE FLEECE 77 
 
 With prosperous return. The myrtle shores, 
 
 And glassy mirror of lolcos' lake, 
 
 With loud acclaim receiv'd them. Every vale, 
 
 And every hillock, touch'd the tuneful stops 300 
 
 Of pipes unnumber'd, for the Ram regain'd. 
 
 Thus Phasis lost his pride : his slighted nymphs 
 Along the withering dales and pastures mourn'd ; 
 The trade-ship left his streams : the merchant shunnM 
 His desert borders ; each ingenious art, 305 
 
 Trade, Liberty, and Affluence, all retir'd, 
 And left to Want and Servitude their seats ; 
 Vile successors ! and gloomy Ignorance, 
 Following like dreary Night, whose sable hand 
 Hangs on the purple skirts of flying day. 310 
 
 Sithence the Fleeces of Arcadian plains, 
 And Attic and Thessalian, bore esteem ; 
 And those in Grecian colonies dispers'd, 
 Caria and Doris, and Ionia's coast, 
 And fam'd Tarentum, where Galesus' tide, 315 
 
 Rolling by ruins hoar of ancient towns, 
 Thro' solitary vallies seeks the sea : 
 Or green Altinum, by an hundred Alps 
 High-crown'd, whose woods and snowy peaks aloft 
 Shield her low plains from the rough northern blast. 320 
 Those too of Boetica's delicious fields, 
 With golden fruitage bless'd of highest taste, 
 What need I name ? the Turdetanian track, 
 Or rich Coraxus, whose wide looms unroll'd 
 The finest webs ? where scarce a talent weigh'd 3 2 S 
 A ram's equivalent. Then only tin 
 To late-improv'd Britannia gave renown. 
 
 Lo ! the revolving course of mighty Time, 
 Who loftiness abases, tumbles down 
 Olympus' brow, and lifts the lowly vale. 33 
 
 Where is the majesty of ancient Rome,
 
 78 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The throng of heroes in her splendid streets, 
 
 The snowy vest of peace, or purple robe, 
 
 Slow trail'd triumphal ? where the Attic Fleece, 
 
 And Tarentine, in warmest litter'd cots, 335 
 
 Or sunny meadows, cloth'd with costly care ? 
 
 All in the solitude of ruin lost, 
 
 War's horrid carnage, vain Ambition's dust. 
 
 Long lay the mournful realms of elder Fame 
 In gloomy desolation, till appear'd 34 
 
 Beauteous Venetia, rirst of all the nymphs 
 Who from the melancholy waste emerg'd : 
 In Adria's gulf her clotted locks she lav'd, 
 And rose another Venus : each soft joy, 
 Each aid of life, her busy wit restor'd ; 345 
 
 Science reviv'd, with all the lovely Arts, 
 And all the Graces. Restituted Trade 
 To every virtue lent his helping stores, 
 And cheer'd the vales around ; again the pipe 
 And bleating flocks awak'd the cheerful lawn. 35 
 
 The glossy Fleeces now, of prime esteem, 
 Soft Asia boasts, where lovely Cassimere, 
 Within a lofty mound of circling hills, 
 Spreads her delicious stores ; woods, rocks, caves, lakes, 
 Hills, lawns, and winding streams ; a region term'd 355 
 The Paradise of Indus. Next the plains 
 Of Lahor, by that arbour stretch'd immense, 
 Thro' many a realm, to Agra, the proud throne 
 Of India's worshipp'd prince, whose lust is law : 
 Remote dominions, nor to ancient fame 360 
 
 Nor modern known, till public-hearted Roe, 
 Faithful, sagacious, active, patient, brave, 
 Led to their distant climes advent'rous trade. 
 
 Add, too, the silky wool of Libyan lands, 
 Of Caza's bowery dales, and brooky Caus, 3 6 5 
 
 Where lofty Atlas spreads his verdant feet,
 
 THE FLEECE 79 
 
 While in the clouds his hoary shoulders bend. 
 
 Next proud Iberia glories in the growth 
 Of high Castile, and mild Segovian glades. 
 
 And beauteous Albion, since great Edgar chas'd 37 
 The prowling wolf, with many a lock appears 
 Of silky lustre ; chief, Silurian, thine ; 
 Thine, Vaga, favour'd stream ; from sheep minute 
 On Cambria bred : a pound o'erweighs a Fleece : 
 Gay Epsom's too, and Banstead's, and what gleams 375 
 On Vecta's isle, that shelters Albion's fleet, 
 With all its thunders ; or Salopian stores, 
 Those which are gather'd in the fields of Clun : 
 High Cotswold also 'mong the shepherd swains 
 Is oft remember'd, tho' the greedy plough 3 8 
 
 Preys on its carpet. He whose rustic Muse 
 O'er heath and craggy holt her wing display'd, 
 And sung the bosky bourns of Alfred's shires, 
 Has favour'd Cotswold with luxuriant praise. 
 Need we the levels green of Lincoln note, 3 8 5 
 
 Or rich Leicestria's marly plains, for length 
 Of whitest locks and magnitude of Fleece 
 Peculiar? envy of the neighbouring realms ! 
 But why recount our grassy lawns alone, 
 While ev'n the tillage of our cultur'd plains, 39 
 
 With bossy turnip and luxuriant cole, 
 Learns thro' the circling year their flocks to feed ? 
 
 Ingenious Trade, to clothe the naked world 
 Her soft materials not from sheep alone, 
 From various animals, reeds, trees, and stones, 395 
 Collects sagacious. In Euboa's isle 
 A wondrous rock is found, of which are woven 
 Vests incombustible ; Batavia flax ; 
 Siam's warm marish yields the fissile cane ; 
 Soft Persia's silk ; Balasor's shady hills 400 
 
 Tough bark of trees ; Peruvian Pito grass ;
 
 SO THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 And every sultry clime the snowy down 
 
 Of cotton, bursting from its stubborn shell 
 
 To gleam amid the verdure of the grove. 
 
 With glossy hair of Tibet's shagged goat 405 
 
 Are light tiaras woven, that wreath the head, 
 
 And airy float behind The beaver's flix 
 
 Hives kindliest warmth to weak enervate limbs, 
 
 When the pale blood slow rises through the veins. 
 
 Still shall o'er all prevail the shepherd's stores 4 10 
 
 For num'rous uses known : none yield such warmth, 
 
 Such beauteous hues receive, so long endure ; 
 
 So pliant to the loom, so various, none. 
 
 Wild rove the flocks, no burd'ning Fleece they bear 
 In fervid climes ; Nature gives not in vain. 4 J 5 
 
 Carmenian wool on the broad tail alone 
 Resplendent swells, enormous in its growth : 
 As the sleek ram from green to green removes, 
 On aiding wheels his heavy pride he draws, 
 And glad resigns it for the hatters' use. 420 
 
 Ev'n in the new Columbian world appears 
 The woolly covering : Apacheria's glades, 
 And Canses', echo to the pipes and flocks 
 Of foreign swains. While Time shakes down his sands, 
 And works continual change, be none secure : 4 2 5 
 Quicken your labours, brace your slackening nerves, 
 Ye Britons ! nor sleep careless on the lap 
 Of bounteous Nature ; she is elsewhere kind. 
 See Mississippi lengthen on her lawns, 
 Propitious to the shepherds ; see the sheep 43 
 
 Of fertile Arica, like camels form'd, 
 Which bear huge burdens to the sea-beat shore, 
 And shine with Fleeces soft as feathery down. 
 
 Coarse Bothnic locks are not devoid of use ; 
 They clothe the mountain carl, or mariner 435 
 
 Labouring at the wet shrouds or stubborn helm,
 
 THE FLEECE 8 1 
 
 While the loud billows dash the groaning deck. 
 
 All may not Stroud's or Taunton's vestures wear, 
 
 Nor what from Fleece Rataean mimic flowers 
 
 Of rich Damascus: many a texture bright 44 
 
 Of that material in Prsetorium woven, 
 
 Or in Norvicum, cheats the curious eye. 
 
 If any wool peculiar to our Isle 
 Is given by Nature, it is the comber's lock, 
 The soft, the snow-white, and the long-grown flake. 445 
 Hither be turn'd the public's wakeful eye 
 This Golden Fleece to guard, with strictest watch, 
 From the dark hand of pilfering Avarice, 
 Who, like a spectre, haunts the midnight hour, 
 When Nature wide around him lies supine 45 
 
 And silent, in the tangles soft involv'd 
 Of death-like sleep: he then the moment marks, 
 While the pale moon illumes the trembling tide, 
 Speedy to lift the canvass, bend the oar, 
 And waft his thefts to the perfidious foe. 455 
 
 Happy the patriot who can teach the means 
 To check his frauds, and yet untroubled leave 
 Trade's open channels. Would a gen'rous aid 
 To honest toil in Cambria's hilly tracks, 
 Or where the Lune or Coker wind their streams, 460 
 Be found sufficient ? Far their airy fields, 
 Far from infectious luxury, arise. 
 O might their mazy dales and mountain sides 
 With copious Fleeces of lerne shine, 
 And gulfy Caledonia, wisely bent 465 
 
 On wealthy fisheries and flaxen webs, 
 Then would the sister realms amid their seas, 
 Like the three Graces in harmonious fold, 
 By mutual aid enhance their various charms, 
 And bless remotest climes ! To this lov'd end 47<> 
 Awake, Benevolence ! to this lov'd end 
 F
 
 82 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Strain all thy nerves, and every thought explore. 
 
 Far, far away whose passions would immure, 
 
 In your own little hearts, the joys of life ; 
 
 (Ye worms of pride !) for your repast alone 475 
 
 Who claim all Nature's stores, woods, waters, meads, 
 
 All her profusion ; whose vile hands would grasp 
 
 The peasant's scantling, the weak widow's mite, 
 
 And in the sepulchre of Self entomb 
 
 Whate'er ye can, whate'er ye cannot, use. 480 
 
 Know, for superior ends th' Almighty Pow'r 
 
 (The Pow'r whose tender arms embrace the worm) 
 
 Breathes o'er the foodful earth the breath of life, 
 
 And forms us manifold ; allots to each 
 
 His hair peculiar, wisdom, wit, and strength ; 485 
 
 Wisdom, and wit, and strength, in sweet accord, 
 
 To aid, to cheer, to counsel, to protect, 
 
 And twist the mighty bond. Thus feeble man, 
 
 With man united, is a nation strong ; 
 
 Builds tow'ry cities, satiates every want, 490 
 
 And makes the seas profound, and forests wild; 
 
 The gardens of his joys. Man, each man, 's born 
 
 For the high bus'ness of the public good. 
 
 For me, 'tis mine to pray that men regard 
 Their occupations with an honest heart 495 
 
 And cheerful diligence : like the useful bee, 
 To gather for the hive not sweets alone, 
 But wax, and each material ; pleas'd to find 
 Whate'er may sooth distress, and raise the fall'n, 
 In life's rough race. O be it as my wish ! 500 
 
 'Tis mine to teach th' inactive hand to reap 
 Kind Nature's bounties, o'er the globe diffus'd. 
 
 For this I wake the weary hours of rest ; 
 With this desire the merchant I attend ; 
 By this impell'd the shepherd's hut I seek, 55 
 
 And, as he tends his flock, his lectures hear
 
 THE FLEECE 83 
 
 Attentive, pleas'd with pure simplicity, 
 
 And rules divulg'd beneficent to sheep : 
 
 Or turn the compass o'er the painted chart, 
 
 To mark the ways of traffic ; Volga's stream, 5 10 
 
 Cold Hudson's cloudy streights, warm Afric's cape, 
 
 Latium's firm roads, the Ptolemean fosse, 
 
 And China's long canals : those noble works, 
 
 Those high effects of civilizing trade, 
 
 Employ me, sedulous of public weal: 515 
 
 Yet not unmindful of my sacred charge ; 
 
 Thus also mindful, thus devising good 
 
 At vacant seasons oft, when ev'ning mild 
 
 Purples the vallies, and the shepherd counts 
 
 His flock, returning to the quiet fold 520 
 
 With dumb complacence ; for religion this, 
 
 To give our every comfort to distress, 
 
 And follow virtue with an humble mind ; 
 
 This pure religion. Thus, in elder time, 
 
 The reverend Blasius wore his leisure hours, 5 2 5 
 
 And slumbers broken oft ; till, fill'd at length 
 
 With inspiration, after various thought, 
 
 And trials manifold, his well-known voice 
 
 Gather'd the poor, and o'er Vulcanian stoves, 
 
 With tepid lees of oil, and spiky comb, 530 
 
 Shew'd how the Fleece might stretch to greater length, 
 
 And cast a glossier whiteness. Wheels went round ; 
 
 Matrons and maids with songs reliev'd their toils, 
 
 And every loom receiv'd the softer yarn. 
 
 What poor, what widow, Blasius ! did not bless 535 
 
 Thy teaching hand? thy bosom, like the morn, 
 
 Op'ning its wealth, what nation did not seek 
 
 Of thy new-modell'd wool the curious webs ? 
 
 Hence the glad cities of the loom his name 
 Honour with yearly festals: thro' their streets 540 
 The pomp, with tuneful sounds and order just,
 
 #4 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Denoting Labour's happy progress, moves, 
 
 Procession slow and solemn : first the rout, 
 
 Then servient youth, and magisterial eld ; 
 
 Each after each, according to his rank, 545 
 
 His sway, and office, in the commonweal ; 
 
 And to the board of smiling Plenty's stores 
 
 Assemble, where delicious cates and fruits 
 
 Of every clime are pil'd ; and with free hand 
 
 Toil only tastes the feast, by nerveless Ease 550 
 
 Unrelish'd. Various mirth and song resound ; 
 
 And oft they interpose improving talk, 
 
 Divulging each to other knowledge rare, 
 
 Sparks from experience that sometimes arise, 
 
 Till night weighs down the sense, or morning's dawn 555 
 
 Rouzes to labour man, to labour born. 
 
 . Then the sleek brightening lock from hand to hand 
 Renews its circling course ; this feels the card ; 
 That in the comb admires its growing length ; 
 This blanch'd, emerges from the oily wave ; 560 
 
 And that the amber tint, or ruby, drinks. 
 
 For it suffices not in flow'ry vales 
 Only to tend the flock, and shear soft wool ; 
 Gums must be stor'd of Guinea's arid coast, 
 Mexican woods, and India's brightening salts; 565 
 Fruits, herbage, sulphurs, minerals, to stain 
 The Fleece prepar'd, which oil-imbibing earth 
 Of Wooburn blanches, and keen alum-waves 
 Intenerate. With curious eye observe 
 In what variety the tribe of salts, 5-0 
 
 Gums, ores, and liquors, eye-delighting hues 
 Produce, abstersive or restringent ; how 
 Steel casts the sable ; how pale pewter, fus'd 
 In fluid spirituous, the scarlet dye ; 
 And how each tint is made, or mix'd, or chang'd, 575 
 By mediums colourless ; why is the fume
 
 THE FLEECE 85 
 
 Of sulphur kind to white and azure hues, 
 
 Pernicious else ? why no materials yield 
 
 Singly their colours, those except that shine 
 
 With topaz, sapphire, and cornelian rays : 580 
 
 And why, tho' Nature's face is cloath'd in green, 
 
 No green is found to beautify the Fleece 
 
 But what repeated toil by mixture gives. 
 
 To find effects while causes lie conceal'd 
 Reason uncertain tries : howe'er, kind Chance 5 8 5 
 Oft, with equivalent discovery, pays 
 Its wandering efforts. Thus the German sage, 
 Diligent Drebet, o'er alchymic fire 
 Seeking the secret source of gold, receiv'd 
 Of alter'd cochineal the crimson store. 590 
 
 Tyrian Melcartus thus (the first who brought 
 Tin's useful ore from Albion's distant isle, 
 And for unwearied toils and arts the name 
 Of Hercules acquir'd), when o'er the mouth 
 Of his attendant sheep-dog he beheld 595 
 
 The wounded murex strike a purple stain, 
 The purple stain on Fleecy woofs he spread, 
 Which lur'd the eye, adorning many a nymph, 
 And drew the pomp of trade to rising Tyre. 
 
 Our vallies yield not, or but sparing yield, 600 
 
 The dyer's gay materials. Only weld, 
 Or root of madder, here, or purple woad, 
 By which our naked ancestors obscur'd 
 Their hardy limbs, inwrought with mystic forms, 
 Like Egypt's obelisks. The powerful sun 605 
 
 Hot India's zone with gaudy pencil paints, 
 And drops delicious tints o'er hill and dale, 
 Which trade to us conveys. Not tints alone ; 
 Trade to the good physician gives his balms ; 
 Gives cheering cordials to th' afflicted heart ; 610 
 
 Gives to the wealthy delicacies high ;
 
 86 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Gives to the curious works of Nature rare ; 
 
 And when the priest displays, in just discourse, 
 
 Him, the all-wise Creator, and declares 
 
 His presence, pow'r, and goodness, unconfin'd, 615 
 
 'Tis Trade, attentive voyager, who fills 
 
 His lips with argument. To censure Trade, 
 
 Or hold her busy people in contempt, 
 
 Let none presume. The dignity, and grace, 
 
 And weal, of human life, their fountains owe 620 
 
 To seeming imperfections, to vain wants 
 
 Or real exigencies ; passions swift 
 
 Forerunning reason ; strong contrarious bents, 
 
 The steps of men dispersing wide abroad 
 
 O'er realms and seas. There, in the solemn scene, 625 
 
 Infinite wonders glare before their eyes, 
 
 Humiliating the mind enlarg'd ; for they 
 
 The clearest sense of Deity receive 
 
 Who view the widest prospect of his works, 
 
 Ranging the globe with trade thro' various climes; 630 
 
 Who see the signatures of boundless love, 
 
 Nor less the judgments of Almighty Pow'r, 
 
 That warn the wicked, and the wretch who 'scapes 
 
 From human justice ; who, astonish'd, view 
 
 Etna's loud thunders and tempestuous fires ; 635 
 
 The dust of Carthage ; desert shores of Nile ; 
 
 Or Tyre's abandon'd summit, crown'd of old 
 
 With stately towers ; whose merchants, from their isles 
 
 And radiant thrones, assembled in her marts ; 
 
 Whither Arabia, whither Kedar, brought 640 
 
 Their shaggy goats, their flocks, and bleating lambs ; 
 
 Where rich Damascus pil'd his Fleeces white, 
 
 Prepar'd, and thirsty for the double tint 
 
 And flow'ring shuttle. While th' admiring world 
 
 Crowded her streets, ah ! then the hand of Pride 645 
 
 Sow'd imperceptible his pois'nous weed,
 
 THE FLEECE 87 
 
 Which crept destructive up her lofty domes, 
 
 As ivy creeps around the graceful trunk 
 
 Of some tall oak. Her lofty domes no more, 
 
 Not ev'n the ruins of her pomp, remain ; 650 
 
 Not ev'n the dust they sunk in; by the breath 
 
 Of the Omnipotent offended hurl'd 
 
 Down to the bottom of the stormy deep : 
 
 Only the solitary rock remains, 
 
 Her ancient site ; a monument to those 655 
 
 Who toil and wealth exchange for sloth and pride. 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 PROCEED, Arcadian Muse I resume the pipe 
 
 Of Hermes, long disus'd, tho' sweet the tone, 
 
 And to the songs of Nature's choristers 
 
 Harmonious. Audience pure by thy delight, 
 
 Tho' few ; for every note which Virtue wounds, 5 
 
 However pleasing to the vulgar herd, 
 
 To the purg'd ear is discord. Yet too oft 
 
 Has false dissembling Vice to am'rous airs 
 
 The reed apply'd and heedless youth allur'd ; 
 
 Too oft, with bolder sound, inflam'd the rage I0 
 
 Of horrid war. Let now the Fleecy looms 
 
 Direct our rural numbers, as of old, 
 
 When plains and sheepfolds were the Muses' haunts. 
 
 So thou, the friend of every virtuous deed 
 And aim, tho' feeble, shall these rural lays 1 S 
 
 Approve, O Heathcote ! whose benevolence 
 Visits our vallies, where the pasture spreads,
 
 88 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 And where the bramble, and would justly act 
 True charity, by teaching idle Want 
 And Vice the inclination to do good ; 20 
 
 Good to themselves, and in themselves to all, 
 Thro' grateful toil. Ev'n Nature lives by toil : 
 Beast, bird, air, fire, the heav'ns, and rolling worlds, 
 All live by action : nothing lies at rest 
 But death and ruin : man is born to care ; 25 
 
 Fashion'd, improv'd, by labour. This of old 
 Wise states observing, gave that happy law 
 Which doom'd the rich and needy, every rank, 
 To manual occupation ; and oft call'd 
 Their chieftains from the spade, or furrowing plough, 3 
 Or bleating sheepfold. Hence utility 
 Thro' all conditions ; hence the joys of health ; 
 Hence strength of arm, and clear judicious thought ; 
 Hence corn, and wine, and oil, and all in life 
 Delectable. What simple Nature yields 35 
 
 (And Nature does her part) are only rude 
 Materials, cumbers on the thorny ground ; 
 'Tis toil that makes them wealth; that makes the 
 (Yet useless, rising in unshapen heaps) [Fleece 
 
 Anon, in curious woofs of beauteous hue, 40 
 
 A vesture usefully succinct and warm, 
 Or, trailing in the length of graceful folds, 
 A royal mantle. Come, ye village Nymphs ! 
 The scattered mists reveal the dusky hills ; 
 Gray dawn appears ; the golden Morn ascends, 45 
 And paints the glitt'ring rocks, and purple woods, 
 And flaming spires : arise, begin your toils ; 
 Behold the Fleece beneath the spiky comb 
 Drop its long locks, or from the mingling card 
 Spread in soft flakes, and swell the whiten'd floor. 5 
 Come, village Nymphs, ye Matrons, and ye Maids ! 
 Receive the soft material ; with light step
 
 THE FLEECE 89 
 
 Whether ye turn around the spacious wheel, 
 
 Or, patient-sitting, that revolve which forms 
 
 A narrower circle. On the brittle work 55 
 
 Point your quick eye, and let the hand assist 
 
 To guide and stretch the gently-lessening thread ; 
 
 Even, unknotted, twine will praise your skill. 
 
 A dift'rent spinning every different web 
 
 Asks from your glowing ringers ; some require 60 
 
 The more compact and some the looser wreath ; 
 
 The last for softness, to delight the touch 
 
 Of chamber'd delicacy : scarce the cirque 
 
 Need turn around, or twine the length'ning flake. 
 
 There are, to speed their labour, who prefer 65 
 Wheels double spol'd, which yield to either hand 
 A sev'ral line ; and many yet adhere 
 To th' ancient distaff, at the bosom fix'd, 
 Casting the whirling spindle as they walk : 
 At home, or in the sheepfold, or the mart, 7 
 
 Alike the work proceeds. This method still 
 Norvicum favours, and th' Icenian towns : 
 It yields their airy stuffs an apter thread. 
 This was of old, in no inglorious days, 
 The mode of spinning when th' Egyptian prince 75 
 A golden distaff gave that beauteous nymph, 
 Too-beauteous Helen ! no uncourtly gift 
 Then, when each gay diversion of the fair 
 Led to ingenious use. But patient art, 
 That on experience works, from hour to hour, 80 
 
 Sagacious, has a spiral engine form'd, 
 Which on an hundred spoles, an hundred threads, 
 With one huge wheel, by lapse of water, twines, 
 Few hands requiring , easy-tended work, 
 That copiously supplies the greedy loom. 85 
 
 Nor hence, ye Nymphs ! let anger cloud your brows; 
 The more is wrought the more is still requir'd :
 
 90 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Blithe o'er your toils, with wonted song, proceed : 
 
 Fear not surcharge ; your hands will ever find 
 
 Ample employment. In the strife of trade 9 
 
 These curious instruments of speed obtain 
 
 Various advantage, and the diligent 
 
 Supply with exercise, as fountains sure, 
 
 Which ever-gliding feed the flow'ry lawn : 
 
 Nor, should the careful State, severely kind, 95 
 
 In every province to the house of toil 
 
 Compel the vagrant, and each implement 
 
 Of ruder art, the comb, the card, the wheel, 
 
 Teach their unwilling hands, nor yet complain : 
 
 Yours with the public good shall ever rise, 100 
 
 Ever, while o'er the lawns and airy downs 
 
 The bleating sheep and shepherd's pipe are heard ; 
 
 While in the brook ye blanch the glist'ning Fleece, 
 
 And th' am'rous youth, delighted with your toils, 
 
 Quavers the choicest of his sonnets, warm'd 105 
 
 By growing traffic, friend to wedded love. 
 
 The am'rous youth, with various hopes inflam'd, 
 Now on the busy stage see him step forth, 
 With beating breast : high-honour'd he beholds 
 Rich industry. First he bespeaks a loom ; no 
 
 From some thick wood the carpenter selects 
 A slender oak, or beech of glossy trunk, 
 Or sapling ash : he shapes the sturdy beam, 
 The posts, and treadles, and the frame combines : 
 The smith, with iron-screws and plated hoops, 115 
 Confirms the strong machine, and gives the bolt 
 That strains the roll. To these the turner's lathe 
 And graver's knife the hollow shuttle add. 
 Various professions in the work unite, 
 For each on each depends. Thus he acquires 120 
 The curious engine, work of subtle skill ; 
 Howe'er in vulgar use around the globe.
 
 THE FLEECE 9 1 
 
 Frequent observ'd, of high antiquity 
 
 No doubtful mark : th' advent'rous voyager, 
 
 Toss'd over ocean to remotest shores, 125 
 
 Hears on remotest shores the murm'ring loom, 
 
 Sees the deep-furrowing plough and harrow'd field, 
 
 The wheel-mov'd wagon, and the discipline 
 
 Of strong-yok'd steers. What needful art is new ? 
 
 Next the industrious youth employs his care 130 
 To store soft yarn ; and now he strains the warp 
 Along the garden-walk, or highway side, 
 Smoothing each thread ; now fits it to the loom, 
 And sits before the work : from hand to hand 
 The thready shuttle glides along the lines, 135 
 
 Which open to the woof and shut altern ; 
 And ever and anon, to firm the work, 
 Against the web is driv'n the noisy frame, 
 That o'er the level rushes, like a surge 
 Which, often dashing on the sandy beach, 140 
 
 Compacts the traveller's road : from hand to hand 
 Again, across the lines oft op'ning, glides 
 The thready shuttle, while the web apace 
 Increases, as the light of eastern skies, 
 Spread by the rosy fingers of the morn, 145 
 
 And all the fair expanse with beauty glows. 
 
 Or if the broader mantle be the task, 
 He chuses some companion to his toil. 
 From side to side, with amicable aim, 
 Each to the other darts the nimble bolt, 15 
 
 While friendly converse, prompted by the work, 
 Kindles improvement in the op'ning mind. 
 
 What need we name the sev'ral kinds of looms? 
 Those delicate, to whose fair-colour'd threads 
 Hang figur'd weights, whose various numbers 
 guide i55 
 
 The artist's hand : he, unseen, flow'rs, and trees,
 
 92 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 And vales, and azure hills, unerring works : 
 Or that whose num'rous needles, glitt'ring bright, 
 Weave the warm hose to cover tender limbs : 
 Modern invention ; modern is the want. I ^> 
 
 Next from the slacken'd beam the woof, unroll'd, 
 Near some clear-sliding river, Aire or Stroud, 
 Is by the noisy fulling-mill receiv'd, 
 Where tumbling waters turn enormous wheels, 
 And hammers, rising and descending, learn 165 
 
 To imitate the industry of man. 
 
 Oft the wet web is steep'd, and often rais'd, 
 Fast dripping, to the river's grassy bank, 
 And sinewy arms of men, with full-strain'd strength 
 Wring out the latent water : then up-hung 170 
 
 On rugged tenters, to the fervid sun 
 Its level surface, reeking, it expands, 
 Still brightening in each rigid discipline, 
 And gathering worth, as human life in pains, 
 Conflicts, and troubles. Soon the clothier's shears *75 
 And burler's thistle skim the surface sheen. 
 The round of work goes on from day to day, 
 Season to season. So the husbandman 
 Pursues his cares ; his plough divides the glebe ; 
 The seed is sown ; rough rattle o'er the clods 180 
 The harrow's teeth ; quick weeds his hoe subdues ; 
 The fickle labours, and the slow team strains, 
 Till grateful harvest-home rewards his toils. 
 
 The ingenious artist, learn'd in drugs, bestows 
 The last improvement; for th' unlabour'd Fleece l8 5 
 Rare is permitted to imbibe the dye. 
 In penetrating waves of boiling vats 
 The snowy web is steep'd, with grain of weld, 
 Fustic, or logwood, mix'd, or cochineal, 
 Or the dark purple pulp of Pictish woad, 19 
 
 Of stain tenacious, deep as summer skies,
 
 THE FLEECE 93 
 
 Like those that canopy the bow'rs of Stowe 
 After soft rains, when birds their notes attune, 
 Ere the melodious nightingale begins. 
 
 From yon broad vase behold the saffron woofs '95 
 Beauteous emerge ; from these the azure rise ; 
 This glows with crimson ; that the auburn holds ; 
 These shall the prince with purple robes adorn, 
 And those the warrior mark, and those the priest. 
 
 Few are the primal colours of the art ; 200 
 
 Five only ; black, and yellow, blue, brown, red ; 
 Yet hence innumerable hues arise. 
 
 That stain alone is good which bears unchang'd 
 Dissolving waters, and calcining suns, 
 And thieving air's attacks. How great the need 205 
 With utmost caution to prepare the woof, 
 To seek the best-adapted dyes, and salts, 
 And purest gums ! since your whole skill consists 
 In opening well the fibres of the woof 
 For the reception of the beauteous dye, 210 
 
 And wedging every grain in every pore, 
 Firm as a diamond in rich gold enchas'd. 
 
 But what the pow'rs which lock them in the web ; 
 Whether incrusting salts, or weight of air, 
 Or fountain-water's cold contracting wave, 215 
 
 Or all combin'd, it well befits to know. 
 Ah ! wherefore have we lost our old repute ? 
 And who inquires the cause why Gallia's sons 
 In depth and brilliancy of hues excel ? 
 Yet yield not, Britons ! grasp in every art 220 
 
 The foremost name. Let others tamely view, 
 On crowded Smyrna's and Byzantium's strand, 
 The haughty Turk despise their proffer'd bales. 
 
 Now see, o'er vales and peopled mountain-tops 
 The welcome traders gathering every web, 225 
 
 Industrious, every web too few. Alas !
 
 94 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Successless oft their industry, -when cease 
 
 The loom and shuttle in the troubled streets ; 
 
 Their motion stopp'd by wild Intemperance, 
 
 Toil's scoffing foe, who lures the giddy rout 2 3 
 
 To scorn their task-work, and to vagrant life 
 
 Turns their rude steps, while Misery, among 
 
 The cries of infants, haunts their mould'ring huts. 
 
 O when, thro' every province, shall be rais'd 
 Houses of labour, seats of kind constraint, 235 
 
 For those who now delight in fruitless sports 
 More than in cheerful works of virtuous trade, 
 Which honest wealth would yield, and portion due 
 Of public welfare ? Ho, ye Poor ! who seek, 
 Among the dwellings of the diligent, 240 
 
 For sustenance unearn'd ; who stroll abroad 
 From house to house, with mischievous intent, 
 Feigning misfortune : Ho, ye Lame ! ye Blind ! 
 Ye languid limbs, with real want oppress'd, 
 Who tread the rough highways, and mountains 
 wild, 245 
 
 Thro' storms, and rains, and bitterness of heart ; 
 Ye children of Affliction ! be compell'd 
 To happiness : the long-wish'd daylight dawns, 
 When charitable Rigour shall detain 
 Your step-bruis'd feet. Ev'n now the sons of 
 Trade, 250 
 
 Where'er their cultivated hamlets smile, 
 Erect the mansion ; here soft Fleeces shine ; 
 The card awaits you, and the comb and wheel : 
 Here shroud you from the thunder of the storm ; 
 No rain shall wet your pillow '. here abounds 255 
 
 Pure beverage : here your viands are prepar'd : 
 To heal each sickness the physician waits, 
 And priest entreats to give your Maker praise.
 
 THE FLEECE 95 
 
 Behold in Calder's vale, where wide around 
 Unnumber'd villas creep the shrubby hills, 260 
 
 A spacious dome for this fair purpose rise : 
 High o'er the open gates, with gracious air, 
 Eliza's image stands. By gentle steps 
 Up-rais'd, from room to room we slowly walk, 
 And view with wonder, and with silent joy, 265 
 
 The sprightly scene ; where many a busy hand, 
 Where spoles, cards, wheels, and looms, with motion 
 
 quick, 
 
 And ever-murm'ring sound, th' unwonted sense 
 Wrap in surprise. To see them all employ'd, 
 All blithe, it gives the spreading heart delight, 276 
 As neither meats, nor drinks, nor aught of joy 
 Corporeal can bestow. Nor less they gain 
 Virtue than wealth, while, on their useful works 
 From day to day intent, in their full minds 
 Evil no place can find. With equal scale 275 
 
 Some deal abroad the well-assorted Fleece ; 
 These card the short, those comb the longer 
 
 flake; 
 
 Others the harsh and clotted lock receive, 
 Yet sever and refine with patient toil, 
 And bring to proper use. Flax too, and hemp, 280 
 Excite their diligence. The younger hands 
 Ply at the easy work of winding yarn 
 On swiftly-circling engines, and their notes 
 Warble together as a choir of larks ; 
 Such joy arises in the mind employ'd. 285 
 
 Another scene displays the more robust 
 Rasping or grinding tough Brasilian woods, 
 And what Campeachy's disputable shore 
 Copious affords to tinge the thrifty web, 
 And the Caribbee isles, whose dulcet canes 290
 
 96 
 
 Equal the honeycomb. We next are shown 
 
 A circular machine, of new design, 
 
 In conic shape : it draws and spins a thread 
 
 Without the tedious toil of needless hands. 
 
 A wheel, invisible, beneath the floor, 295 
 
 To every member of th' harmonious frame 
 
 Gives necessary motion. One, intent, 
 
 O'erlooks the work : the carded wool, he says, 
 
 Is smoothly lapp'd around those cylinders, 
 
 Which, gently turning, yield it to yon' cirque 300 
 
 Of upright spindles, which with rapid whirl 
 
 Spin out, in long extent, an even twine. 
 
 From this delightful mansion (if we seek 
 Still more to view the gifts which honest toil 
 Distributes) take we now our eastward course 305 
 To the rich fields of Burstal. Wide around 
 Hillock and valley, farm and village, smile ; 
 And ruddy roofs and chimney-tops appear 
 Of busy Leeds, up-wafting to the clouds 
 The incense of thanksgiving : all is joy ; 310 
 
 And trade and bus'ness guide the living scene, 
 Roll the full cars, adown the winding Aire 
 Load the slow-sailing barges, pile the pack 
 On the long tinkling train of slow-pac'd steeds. 
 As when a sunny day invites abroad 315 
 
 The sedulous ants, they issue from their cells 
 In bands unnumber'd, eager for their work, 
 O'er high o'er low they lift, they draw, they haste 
 With warm affection to each other's aid, 
 Repeat their virtuous efforts, and succeed. 320 
 
 Thus all is here in motion, all is life : 
 The creaking wain brings copious store of corn ; 
 The grazier's sleeky kine obstruct the roads ; 
 The neat-dress'd housewives, for the festal board
 
 THE FLEECE 97 
 
 Crown'd with full baskets, in the field-way paths 325 
 
 Come tripping on ; the echoing hills repeat 
 
 The stroke of axe and hammer ; scaffolds rise, 
 
 And growing edifices ; heaps of stone, 
 
 Beneath the chisel, beauteous shapes assume 
 
 Of frieze and column. Some, with even line, 33 
 
 New streets are marking in the neighb'ring fields, 
 
 And sacred domes of worship. Industry, 
 
 Which dignifies the artist, lifts the swain, 
 
 And the straw cottage to a palace turns, 
 
 Over the work presides. Such was the scene 335 
 
 Of hurrying Carthage, when the Trojan chief 
 
 First view'd her growing turrets : so appear 
 
 Th' increasing walls of busy Manchester, 
 
 Sheffield, and Birmingham, whose reddening fields 
 
 Rise and enlarge their suburbs. Lo ! in throngs, 340 
 
 For every realm, the careful factors meet, 
 
 Whispering each other. In long ranks the bales, 
 
 Like War's bright files, beyond the sight extend. 
 
 Straight, ere the sounding bell the signal strikes, 
 
 Which ends the hour of traffic, they conclude 345 
 
 The speedy compact ; and, well-pleas'd transfer, 
 
 With mutual benefit, superior wealth 
 
 To many a kingdom's rent, or tyrant's hoard. 
 
 Whate'er is excellent in art proceeds 
 From labour and endurance. Deep the oak 350 
 
 Must sink in stubborn earth its roots obscure, 
 That hopes to lift its branches to the skies. 
 Gold cannot gold appear until man's toil 
 Discloses wide the mountain's hidden ribs, 
 And digs the dusky ore, and breaks and grinds 355 
 Its gritty parts, and laves in limpid streams 
 With oft-repeated toil, and oft in fire 
 The metal purifies : with the fatigue 
 And tedious process of its painful works 
 G
 
 98 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The lusty sicken, and the feeble die. 360 
 
 But cheerful are the labours of the loom, 
 By health and ease accompany'd : they bring 
 Superior treasures speedier to the state 
 Than those of deep Peruvian mines, where slaves 
 (Wretched requital !) drink, with trembling hand, 3 6 5 
 Pale Palsy's baneful cup. Our happy swains 
 Behold arising in their fattening flocks 
 A double wealth, more rich than Belgium's boast, 
 Who tends the culture of the flaxen reed ; 
 Or the Cathayans, whose ignobler care 37 
 
 Nurses the silk-worm ; or of India's sons, 
 Who plant the cotton grove by Ganges' stream. 
 Nor do their toils and products furnish more 
 Than gauds and dresses, of fantastic web, 
 To the luxurious : but our kinder toils 375 
 
 Give clothing to necessity ; keep warm 
 Th' unhappy wanderer, on the mountain wild 
 Benighted, while the tempest beats around. 
 
 No, ye soft sons of Ganges, and of Ind, 
 Ye feebly delicate ! life little needs 380 
 
 Your feminine toys, nor asks your nerveless arm 
 To cast the strong-slung shuttle or the spear. 
 Can ye defend your country from the storm 
 Of strong invasion ? Can ye want endure, 
 In the besieged fort, with courage firm ? 3 8 5 
 
 Can ye the weather-beaten vessel steer, 
 Climb the tall mast, direct the stubborn helm 
 Mid wild discordant waves with steady course ? 
 Can ye lead out, to distant colonies, 
 Th' o'erflowings of a people, or your wrong'd 39 
 
 Brethren, by impious persecution driven, 
 And arm their breasts with fortitude to try 
 New regions, climes, tho' barren, yet beyond 
 The baneful pow'r of tyrants ? These are deeds
 
 THE FLEECE 99 
 
 To which their hardy labours well prepare 395 
 
 The sinewy arm of Albion's sons. Pursue, 
 
 Ye sons of Albion ! with unyielding heart, 
 
 Your hardy labours : let the sounding loom 
 
 Mix with the melody of every vale ; 
 
 The loom, that long renown'd wide envy'd gift 400 
 
 Of wealthy Flandria, who the boon receiv'd 
 
 From fair Venetia ; she from Grecian nymphs ; 
 
 They from Phenice, who obtain'd the dole 
 
 From old ^Egyptus. Thus around the globe 
 
 The golden-footed Sciences their path 45 
 
 Mark, like the sun, enkindling life and joy, 
 
 And follow'd close by Ignorance and Pride, 
 
 Lead Day and Night o'er realms. Our day arose 
 
 When Alva's tyranny the weaving arts 
 
 Drove from the fertile vallies of the Scheld. 4*0 
 
 With speedy wing and scatter'd course they fled, 
 
 Like a community of bees, disturb'd 
 
 By some relentless swain's rapacious hand ; 
 
 While good Eliza to the fugitives 
 
 Gave gracious welcome ; as wise Egypt erst 4 J 5 
 
 To troubled Nilus, whose nutricious flood 
 
 With annual gratitude enrich'd her meads. 
 
 Then from fair Antwerp an industrious train 
 
 Cross'd the smooth channel of our smiling seas, 
 
 And in the vales of Cantium, on the banks 420 
 
 Of Stour alighted, and the naval wave 
 
 Of spacious Medway : some on gentle Yare 
 
 And fertile Waveney pitch'd, and made their seats 
 
 Pleasant Norvicum and Colcestria's tow'rs : 
 
 Some to the Darent sped their happy way : 425 
 
 Berghem, and Sluys, and elder Bruges, chose 
 
 Antona's chalky plains, and stretched their tents 
 
 Down to Clausentum, and that bay supine 
 
 Beneath the shade of Vecta's cliffy isle.
 
 IOO THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Soon o'er the hospitable realm they spread, 
 With cheer reviv'd, and in Sabrina's flood, 
 And the Silurian Tame, their textures blanch'd 
 Not undelighted with Vigornia's spires, 
 Nor those by Vaga's stream, from ruins rais'd 
 Of ancient Ariconium ; nor less pleas'd 
 With Salop's various scenes, and that soft track 
 Of Cambria deep embay'd, Dimetian land, 
 By green hills fenc'd, by ocean's murmur lull'd, 
 Nurse of the rustic bard who now resounds 
 The fortunes of the Fleece ; whose ancestors 
 Were fugitives from Superstition's rage, 
 And erst from Devon thither brought the loom, 
 Where ivy'd walls of old Kidwelly's tow'rs, 
 Nodding, still on their gloomy brows project 
 Lancastria's arms, emboss'd in mould'ring stone. 
 
 Thus, then, on Albion's coast the exil'd band, 
 From rich Menapian towns, and the green banks 
 Of Scheld, alighted, and, alighting, sang 
 Grateful thanksgiving. Yet at times they shift 
 Their habitations, when the hand of Pride, 
 Restraint, or southern Luxury, disturbs 
 Their industry, and urges them to vales 
 Of the Brigantes ; where, with happier care 
 Inspirited, their art improves the Fleece, 
 Which occupation erst, and wealth immense, 
 Gave Brabant's swarming habitants, what time 
 We were their shepherds only ; from which state 
 With friendly arm they rais'd us : nathless some 
 Among our old and stubborn swains misdeem'd 
 And envy'd who enrich'd them ; envy'd those 
 Whose virtues taught the varletry of towns 
 To useful toil to turn the pilfering hand. 
 
 And still when bigotry's black clouds arise, 
 (For oft they sudden rise in Papal realms)
 
 THE FLEECE IOF 
 
 They from their isle, as from some ark secure, 4 6 5 
 
 Careless, unpitying, view the fiery bolts 
 
 Of Superstition and tyrannic rage, 
 
 And all the fury of the rolling storm, 
 
 Which fierce pursues the suffrers in their flight. 
 
 Shall not our gates, shall not Britannia's arms, 47 
 
 Spread ever open to receive their flight ? 
 
 A virtuous people, by distresses oft 
 
 (Distresses for the sake of truth endur'd) 
 
 Corrected, dignify'd ; creating good 
 
 Wherever they inhabit : this our isle 475 
 
 Has oft experienc'd ; witness all ye realms 
 
 Of either hemisphere where commerce flows: 
 
 Th' important truth is stamp'd on every bale ; 
 
 Each glossy cloth, and drape of mantle warm, 
 
 Receives th' impression ; every airy woof, 480 
 
 Cheyney, and baize, and serge, and alepine, 
 
 Tammy, and crape, and the long countless list 
 
 Of woollen webs ; and every work of steel ; 
 
 And that crystalline metal, blown or fus'd, 
 
 Limpid as water dropping from the clefts 485 
 
 Of mossy marble : not to name the aids 
 
 Their wit has giv'n the Fleece, now taught to link 
 
 With flax, or cotton, or the silk-worm's thread, 
 
 And gain the graces of variety ; 
 
 Whether to form the matron's decent robe, 490 
 
 Or the thin-shading trail for Agra's nymphs ; 
 
 Or solemn curtains, whose long gloomy folds 
 
 Surround the soft pavilions of the rich. 
 
 They, too, the many-colour'd Arras taught 
 To mimic nature, and the airy shapes 495 
 
 Of sportive fancy ; such as oft appear 
 In old Mosaic pavements, when the plough 
 Upturns the crumbling glebe of Weldon field, 
 Or that o'ershaded erst by Woodstock's bower,
 
 102 THE POEMS OF JOHN~DYER 
 
 Now grac'd by Blenheim, in whose stately rooms 5 
 
 Rise glowing tapestries that lure the eye 
 
 With Marlb'rough's wars : here Schellenbergh exults 
 
 Behind surrounding hills of ramparts steep, 
 
 And vales of trenches dark ; each hideous pass 
 
 Armies defend ; yet on the hero leads 5S 
 
 His Britons, like a torrent, o'er the mounds. 
 
 Another scene is Blenheim's glorious field, 
 
 And the red Danube. Here the rescued states 
 
 Crowding beneath his shield ; there Ramillies' 
 
 Important battle : next the tenfold chain 510 
 
 Of Arleux burst, and th' adamantine gates 
 
 Of Gaul flung open to the tyrant's throne. 
 
 A shade obscures the rest Ah ! then, what pow'r 
 
 Invidious from the lifted sickle snatch'd 
 
 The harvest of the plain ? So lively glows 515 
 
 The fair delusion, that our passions rise 
 
 In the beholding, and the glories share 
 
 Of visionary battle. This bright art 
 
 Did zealous Europe learn of Pagan hands, 
 
 While she assay'd with rage of holy war, 520 
 
 To desolate their fields : but old the skill ; 
 
 Long were the Phrygians' picturing looms renown'd ; 
 
 Tyre also, wealthy seat of arts, excell'd, 
 
 And elder Sidon, in th' historic web. 
 
 Far-distant Tibet in her gloomy woods 5 2 5 
 
 Rears the gay tent, of blended wool unwoven. 
 And glutinous materials : the Chinese 
 Their porcelain, Japan its varnish, boasts. 
 Some fair peculiar graces every realm, 
 And each from each a share of wealth acquires. 530 
 
 But chief by numbers of industrious hands 
 A nation's wealth is counted : numbers raise 
 Warm emulation : where that virtue dwells 
 There will be Traffic's seat ; there will she build
 
 THE FLEECE 103 
 
 Her rich emporium. Hence, ye happy Swains ! 535 
 
 With hospitality inflame your breast, 
 
 And emulation: the whole world receive, 
 
 And with their arts, their virtues, deck your isle. 
 
 Each clime, each sea, the spacious orb of each, 
 
 Shall join their various stores, and amply feed 540 
 
 The mighty brotherhood, while ye proceed, 
 
 Active and enterprising, or to teach 
 
 The stream a naval course, or till the wild, 
 
 Or drain the fen, or stretch the long canal, 
 
 Or plough the fertile billows of the deep: 545 
 
 Why to the narrow circle of our coast 
 
 Should we submit our limits, while each wind 
 
 Assists the stream and sail, and the wide main 
 
 Woos us in every port ? See Belgium build 
 
 Upon the foodful brine her envy'd power, 550 
 
 And half her people floating on the wave, 
 
 Expand her fishy regions: thus our Isle, 
 
 Thus only may Britannia be enlarg'd. 
 
 But whither, by the visions of the theme 
 
 Smit with sublime delight, but whither strays 555 
 
 The raptur'd Muse, forgetful of her talk ? 
 
 No common pleasure warms the gen'erous mind 
 When it beholds the labours of the loom ; 
 How widely round the globe they are dispers'd, 
 From little tenements by wood or croft, 560 
 
 Thro' many a slender path, how sedulous, 
 As rills to rivers broad, they speed their way 
 To public roads, to Fosse, or Watling-street, 
 Or Armine, ancient works ; and thence explore, 
 Thro' ev'ry navigable wave, the sea 565 
 
 That laps the green earth round : thro' Tyne and Tees, 
 Thro' Weare and Lune, and merchandising Hull, 
 And Swale and Aire, whose crystal waves reflect 
 The various colours of the tinctur'd web ;
 
 104 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Thro' Ken, swift rolling down his rocky dale, 570 
 Like giddy youth impetuous, then at Wick 
 Curbing his train, and with the sober pace 
 Of cautious eld meand'ring to the deep ; 
 Thro' Dart and sullen Exe, whose murm'ring wave 
 Envies the Dune and Rother, who have won 575 
 
 The serge and kersie to their blanching streams ; 
 Thro' Towy, winding under Merlin's tow'rs, 
 And Usk that, frequent among hoary rocks, 
 On her deep waters paints th' impending scene, 
 Wild torrents, crags, and woods, and mountain 
 snows. 580 
 
 The northern Cambrians, an industrious tribe, 
 Carry their labours on pigmean steeds, 
 Of size exceeding not Leicestrian sheep, 
 Yet strong and sprightly : over hill and dale 
 They travel unfatigu'd, and lay their bales 585 
 
 In Salop's streets, beneath whose lofty walls 
 Pearly Sabrina waits them with her barks, 
 And spreads the swelling sheet. For nowhere far 
 From some transparent river's naval course 
 Arise and fall our various hills and vales, 590 
 
 No where far distant from the masted wharf. 
 We need not vex the strong laborious hand 
 With toil enormous, as th' Egyptian king, 
 Who joined the sable waters of the Nile 
 From Memphis' towers to th' Erythraean gulf; 595 
 Or as the monarch of enfeebled Gaul, 
 Whose will imperious forc'd an hundred streams 
 Thro' many a forest, many a spacious wild, 
 To stretch their scanty trains from sea to sea, 
 That some unprofitable skiff might float 600 
 
 Across irriguous dales and hollow'd rocks. 
 
 Far easier pains may swell our gentler floods, 
 And thro' the centre of the isle conduct
 
 THE FLEECE IO5 
 
 To naval union. Trent and Severn's wave, 
 
 By plains alone disparted, woo to join 605 
 
 Majestic Thamis. With their silver urns 
 
 The nimble-footed Naiads of the springs 
 
 Await, upon the dewy lawn, to speed 
 
 And celebrate the union ; and the light 
 
 Wood-nymphs, and those who o'er the grots preside, 610 
 
 Whose stores bituminous, with sparkling fires, 
 
 In summer's tedious absence, cheer the swains, 
 
 Long sitting at the loom ; and those besides 
 
 Who crown with yellow sheaves the farmer's hopes, 
 
 And all the genii of commercial toil : 61$ 
 
 These on the dewy lawns await to speed 
 
 And celebrate the union, that the Fleece 
 
 And glossy web to every port around 
 
 May lightly glide along. Ev'n now behold, 
 
 Adown a thousand floods the burden'd barks, 620 
 
 With white sails glist'ning, thro' the gloomy woods 
 
 Haste to their harbours. See the silver maze 
 
 Of stately Thamis, ever checker'd o'er 
 
 With deeply-laden barges, gliding smooth 
 
 And constant as his stream : in growing pomp, 625 
 
 By Neptune still attended, slow he rolls 
 
 To great Augusta's mart, where lofty Trade, 
 
 Amid a thousand golden spires enthron'd, 
 
 Gives audience to the world ; the strand around 
 
 Close swarms with busy crowds of many a realm. 630 
 
 What bales, what wealth, what industry, what fleets ! 
 
 Lo, from the simple Fleece how much proceeds !
 
 106 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 BOOK IV 
 
 Now, with our woolly treasures amply stor'd, 
 
 Glide the tall fleets into the wid'ning main, 
 
 A floating forest : every sail unfurl'd 
 
 Swells to the wind, and gilds the azure sky. 
 
 Meantime, in pleasing care, the pilot steers 5 
 
 Steady ; with eye intent upon the steel, 
 
 Steady before the breeze the pilot steers, 
 
 While gaily o'er the waves the mounting prows 
 
 Dance, like a shoal of dolphins, and begin 
 
 To streak with various paths the hoary deep. 10 
 
 Batavia's shallow sounds by some are sought, 
 
 Or sandy Elb or Weser, who receive 
 
 The swain's and peasant's toil with grateful hand, 
 
 Which copious gives return ; while some explore 
 
 Deep Finnic gulfs, and a new shore and mart, 15 
 
 The bold creation of that Kesar's power, 
 
 Illustrious Peter ! whose magnific toils 
 
 Repair the distant Caspian, and restore 
 
 To trade its ancient ports. Some Thanet's strand 
 
 And Dover's chalky cliff behind them turn. 20 
 
 Soon sinks away the green and level beach 
 
 Of Rumney Marish and Rye's silent port, 
 
 By angry Neptune clos'd, and Vecta's isle, 
 
 Like the pale moon in vapour, faintly bright. 
 
 An hundred op'ning marts are seen, are lost ; 25 
 
 Devonia's hills retire, and Edgecumb Mount, 
 
 Waving its gloomy groves, delicious scene ! 
 
 Yet steady o'er the waves they steer ; and now 
 
 The fluctuating world of waters wide,
 
 THE FLEECE IO? 
 
 In boundless magnitude, around them swells, 30 
 
 O'er whose imaginary brim nor towns, 
 
 Nor woods, nor mountain-tops, nor aught appears, 
 
 But Phoebus' orb, refulgent lamp of light, 
 
 Millions of leagues aloft : heav'n's azure vault 
 
 Bends overhead, majestic, to its base, 35 
 
 Uninterrupted clear circumference ; 
 
 Till, rising o'er the flickering waves, the Cape 
 
 Of Finisterre, a cloudy spot, appears. 
 
 Again, and oft, the advent'rous sails disperse : 
 
 These to Iberia, others to the coast 4 
 
 Of Lusitania, th ancient Tarshish deem'd 
 
 Of Solomon ; fair regions ! with the webs 
 
 Of Norwich pleas'd, or those of Manchester ; 
 
 Light airy clothing for their vacant swains 
 
 And visionary monks. We, in return, 45 
 
 Receive Cantabrian steel, and Fleeces soft, 
 
 Segovian or Castilian, far renowned ; 
 
 And gold's attractive metal, pledge of wealth, 
 
 Spur of activity, to good or ill 
 
 Pow'rful incentive ; or Hesperian fruits, 5 
 
 Fruits of spontaneous growth, the citron bright, 
 
 The fig, and orange, and heart-cheering wine. 
 
 Those ships, from ocean broad, which voyage thro' 
 The gates of Hercules, find many seas, 
 And bays unnumber'd, opening to their keels ; 55 
 But shores inhospitable oft to fraud 
 And rapine turn'd or dreary tracks become 
 Of desolation. The proud Roman coasts, 
 Fall'n, like the Punic, to the dashing waves 
 Resign their ruins. Tiber's boasted flood, 6 
 
 Whose pompous moles o'erlook'd the subject deep, 
 Now creeps along thro' brakes and yellow dust, 
 While Neptune scarce perceives its murm'ring rill. 
 Such are th' effects when virtue slacks her hand ;
 
 108 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Wild Nature back returns. Along these shores 65 
 
 Neglected Trade with difficulty toils, 
 
 Collecting slender stores, the sun-dry'd grape, 
 
 Or capers from the rock, that prompt the taste 
 
 Of Luxury. Ev'n Egypt's fertile strand, 
 
 Bereft of human discipline has lost 7 
 
 Its ancient lustre : Alexandria's port, 
 
 Once the metropolis of trade, as Tyre 
 
 And elder Sidon, as the Attic town, 
 
 Beautiful Athens, as rich Corinth, Rhodes, 
 
 Unhonour'd droops. Of all the num'rous marts 75 
 
 That in those glitt'ring seas with splendour rose, 
 
 Only Byzantium, of peculiar site, 
 
 Remains in prosperous state, and Tripolis, 
 
 And Smyrna, sacred ever to the Muse. 
 
 To these resort the delegates of Trade, 80 
 
 Social in life, a virtuous brotherhood, 
 And bales of softest wool from Bradford looms, 
 Or Stroud, dispense ; yet see with vain regret 
 Their stores, once highly priz'd, no longer now 
 Or sought, or valued : copious webs arrive, 85 
 
 Smooth wov'n, of other than Britannia's Fleece. 
 On the throng'd strand alluring: the great skill 
 Of Gaul, and greater industry, prevails, 
 That proud imperious foe. Yet, ah it is not 
 Wrong not the Gaul ; it is the foe within 9 
 
 Impairs our ancient marts, it is the bribe ; 
 'Tis he who pours into the shops of trade 
 That impious poison : it is he who gains 
 The sacred seat of parliament by means 
 That vitiate and emasculate the mind ; 95 
 
 By sloth, by lewd intemperance, and a scene 
 Of riot worse than that which ruin'd Rome. 
 This, this the Tartar and remote Chinese, 
 And all the brotherhood of life, bewail.
 
 THE FLEECE 109 
 
 Meantime (while those who dare be just oppose too 
 The various powers of many-headed Vice), 
 Ye Delegates of Trade ! by patience rise 
 O'er difficulties, in this sultry clime 
 Note what is found of use ; the flix of goat, 
 Red wool, and balm, and Caufee's berry brown 105 
 Or drooping gum, or opium's lenient drug ; 
 Unnumbered arts await them, trifles oft, 
 By skilful labour, rise to high esteem. 
 Nor what the peasant, near some lucid wave 
 Pactolus, Simois, or Mseander slow, no 
 
 Renowned in story, with his plough upturns, 
 Neglect ; the hoary medal, and the vase, 
 Statue, and bust, of old magnificence 
 Beautiful relics : oh ! could modern time 
 Restore the mimic art, and the clear mien 115 
 
 Of patriot sages, Walsinghams and Yorkes, 
 And Cecils in long-lasting stone preserve ! 
 But mimic art and nature are impair'd 
 Impair'd they seem or in a varied dress 
 Delude our eyes : the world in change delights : 120 
 Change then your searches, with the varied modes 
 And wants of realms. Sabean frankincense 
 Rare is collected now : few altars smoke 
 Now in the idol fane ; Panchaia views 
 Trade's busy fleets regardless pass her coast : 125 
 
 Nor frequent are the freights of snow-white woofs 
 Since Rome, no more the mistress of the world, 
 Varies her garb, and treads her darken'd streets 
 With gloomy cowl, majestical no more. 
 
 See the dark spirit of tyrannic pow'r ! 13 
 
 The Thracian channel, long the road of trade 
 To the deep Euxine and its naval streams, 
 And the Mseotis, now is barr'd with chains, 
 And forts of hostile battlement. In aught
 
 1 10 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 That joys mankind the arbitrary Turk J 35 
 
 Delights not : insolent of rule, he spreads 
 Thraldom and desolation o'er his realms. 
 Another path to Scythia's wide domains 
 Commerce discovers : the Livonian gulf 
 Receives her sails, and leads them to the port 1 4 
 Of rising Petersburg, whose splendid streets 
 Swell with the webs of Leeds ; the Cossac there, 
 The Calmuc, and Mungalian, round the bales 
 In crowds resort, and their warm'd limbs enfold, 
 Delighted ; and the hardy Samoi'd, J 45 
 
 Rough with the stings of frost, from his dark caves 
 Ascends, and thither hastes, ere winter's rage 
 O'ertake his homeward step ; and they that dwell 
 Along the banks of Don's and Volga's streams, 
 And borderers of the Caspian, who renew I 5 
 
 That ancient path to India's climes which fill'd 
 With proudest affluence the Colchian state. 
 
 Many have been the ways to those renown'd 
 Luxuriant climes of Indus, early known 
 To Memphis, to the port of wealthy Tyre, *55 
 
 To Tadmor, beauty of the wilderness, 
 Who down along Euphrates sent her sails, 
 And sacred Salem, when her numerous fleets 
 From Ezion-geber pass'd th' Arabian gulf. 
 
 But later times, more fortunate, have found 160 
 O'er ocean's open wave a surer course, 
 Sailing the western coast of Afric's realms, 
 Of Mauritania, and Nigritian tracks, 
 And islands of the Orcades, the bounds, 
 On the Atlantic brine, of ancient trade, 165 
 
 But not of modem, by the virtue led 
 Of Gama and Columbus. The whole globe 
 Is now of commerce made the scene immense, 
 Which daring ships frequent, associated
 
 THE FLEECE III 
 
 Like doves or swallows in th' ethereal flood, J 7 
 
 Or, like the eagle, solitary seen. 
 
 Some with more open course to Indus steer ; 
 Some coast from port to port, with various men 
 And manners conversant, of th' angry surge, 
 That thunders loud, and spreads the cliffs with foam, *75 
 Regardless, or the monsters of the deep, 
 Porpoise or grampus, or the rav'nous shark 
 That chase their keels ; or threat'ning rock, o'erhead 
 Of Atlas old ; beneath the threatening rocks, 
 Reckless, they furl their sails, and bart'ring, take 180 
 Soft flakes of wool ; for in soft flakes of wool, 
 Like the Silurian, Atlas' dales abound. 
 The shores of Sus inhospitable rise, 
 And higher Bojador ; Zara, too, displays 
 Unfruitful deserts; Gambia's wave inisles 185 
 
 An ouzy coast, and pestilential ills 
 Diffuses wide ; behind are burning sands, 
 Adverse to life, and Nilus' hidden fount. 
 
 On Guinea's sultry strand the drapery light 
 Of Manchester or Norwich is bestow'd 190 
 
 For clear transparent gums and ductile wax, 
 And snow-white ivory ; yet the valued trade 
 Along this barbarous coast in telling wounds 
 The generous heart, the sale of wretched slaves : 
 Slaves by their tribes condemn'd, exchanging death 195 
 For lifelong servitude ; severe exchange ! 
 These till our fertile colonies, which yield 
 The sugar-cane and the Tobago leaf, 
 And various new productions, that invite 
 Increasing navies to their crowded wharfs. 200 
 
 But let the man whose rough tempestuous hours 
 In this advent'rous traffic are involv'd, 
 With just humanity of heart pursue 
 The gainful commerce : wickedness is blind :
 
 112 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Their sable chieftains may in future times 205 
 
 Burst their frail bonds, and vengeance execute 
 On cruel unrelenting pride of heart 
 And avarice. There are ills to come for crimes. 
 
 Hot Guinea, too, gives yellow dust of gold, 
 Which, with her rivers, rolls adown the sides 210 
 
 Of unknown hills, where fiery-winged winds, 
 And sandy deserts, rous'd by sudden storms, 
 All search forbid. Howe'er, on either hand, 
 Vallies and pleasant plains, and many a track 
 Deem'd uninhabitable erst, are found 2I 5 
 
 Fertile and populous ; their sable tribes, 
 In shade of verdant groves, and mountains tall, 
 Frequent enjoy the cool descent of rain, 
 And soft refreshing breezes : nor are lakes 
 Here wanting ; those a sea-wide surface spread, 220 
 Which to the distant Nile and Senegal 
 Send long meanders. Whate'er lies beyond, 
 Of rich or barren, Ignorance o'ercasts 
 With her dark mantle. Mon'motapa's coast 
 Is seldom visited ; and the rough shore 225 
 
 Of Cafres, land of savage Hottentots, 
 Whose hands unnatural hasten to the grave 
 Their aged parents. What barbarity 
 And brutal ignorance where social trade 
 Is held contemptible ! Ye gliding Sails ! 230 
 
 From these inhospitable gloomy shores 
 Indignant turn, and to the friendly Cape, 
 Which gives the cheerful mariner good hope 
 Of prosperous voyage, steer. Rejoice to view 
 What trade, with Belgian industry, creates, 235 
 
 Prospects of civil life, fair towns, and lawns, 
 And yellow tilth, and groves of various fruits, 
 Delectable in husk or glossy rind : 
 There the capacious vase from crystal springs
 
 THE FLEECE 11$ 
 
 Replenish, and convenient store provide, 240 
 
 Like ants, intelligent of future need. 
 
 See ! thro' the fragrance of delicious airs, 
 That breathe the smell of balms, how Traffic shapes 
 A winding voyage, by the lofty coast 
 Of Sofala, thought Ophir, in whose hills 2 45 
 
 Ev'n yet some portion of its ancient wealth 
 Remains, and sparkles in the yellow sand 
 Of its clear streams, tho' unregarded now ; 
 Ophirs more rich are found. With easy course 
 The vessels glide, unless their speed be stopp'd 250 
 By dead calms, that oft lie on those smooth seas 
 While ev'ry zephyr sleeps : then the shrouds drop ; 
 The downy feather, on the cordage hung, 
 Moves not ; the flat sea shines like yellow gold, 
 Fus'd in the fire ; or like the marble floor 255 
 
 Of some old temple wide. But where so wide, 
 In old or later time, its marble floor 
 Did ever temple boast as this, which here 
 Spreads its bright level many a league around ? 
 At solemn distances its pillars rise, 260 
 
 Sofal's blue rocks, Mozambic's palmy steeps, 
 And lofty Madagascar's glittering shores, 
 Where various woods of beauteous vein and hue, 
 And glossy shells in elegance of form, 
 For Pond's rich cabinet, or Sloan's, are found. 265 
 Such calm oft checks their course, till this bright 
 
 scene 
 
 Is brush'd away before the rising breeze, 
 That joys the busy crew, and speeds again 
 The sail full-swelling to Socotra's isle, 
 For aloes fam'd ; or to the wealthy marts 270 
 
 Of Ormus or Gombroon, whose streets are oft 
 With caravans and tawny merchants throng'd, 
 From neighbouring provinces and realms afar, 
 H
 
 114 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 And fill'd with plenty, tho' dry sandy wastes 
 
 Spread naked round; so great the power of trade. 275 
 
 Persia few ports : more happy Indostan 
 Beholds Surat and Goa on her coasts, 
 And Bombay's wealthy isle, and harbour fam'd, 
 Supine beneath the shade of cocoa groves. 
 But what avails or many ports or few, 280 
 
 Where wild Ambition frequent from his lair 
 Starts up, while fell Revenge and Famine lead 
 To havoc, reckless of the tyrant's whip, 
 Which clanks along the vallies ? Oft in vain 
 The merchant seeks upon the strand whom erst, 285 
 Associated by trade, he deck'd and cloath'd : 
 In vain whom rage or famine has devour'd 
 He seeks, and with increas'd affection thinks 
 On Britain. Still howe'er Bombaya's wharfs 
 Pile up blue indigo, and, of frequent use, 290 
 
 Pungent salt-petre, woods of purple grain, 
 And many-colour'd saps from leaf and flower, 
 And various gums ; the cloathier knows their worth ; 
 And wool resembling cotton, shorn from trees, 
 Nor to the Fleece unfriendly, whether mix'd 295 
 
 In warp or woof, or with the line of flax, 
 Or softer silk's material, tho' its aid 
 To vulgar eyes appears not. Let none deem 
 The Fleece in any traffic unconcern'd ; 
 By every traffic aided, while each work 300 
 
 Of art yields wealth to exercise the loom, 
 And every loom employs each hand of art. 
 Nor is there wheel in the machine of trade 
 Which Leeds or Cairo, Lima or Bombay, 
 Helps not, with harmony, to turn around, 305 
 
 Tho' all unconscious of the union act. 
 
 Few the peculiars of Canara's realm, 
 Or sultry Malabar, where it behoves
 
 THE FLEECE 115 
 
 The wary pilot, while he coasts their shores, 
 
 To mark o'er ocean the thick rising isles ; 310 
 
 Woody Cahetta, Birter rough with rocks, 
 
 Green-rising Barmur, Mincoy's purple hills, 
 
 And the minute Maldivias, as a swarm 
 
 Of bees in summer on a poplar's trunk, 
 
 Clustering innumerable : these behind 315 
 
 His stern receding, o'er the clouds he views 
 
 Ceylon's gray peaks, from whose volcanoes rise 
 
 Dark smoke and ruddy flame, and glaring rocks 
 
 Darted in air aloft ; around whose feet 
 
 Blue cliffs ascend, and aromatic groves, 320 
 
 In various prospect ; Ceylon also deem'd 
 
 The ancient Ophir. Next Bengala's bay, 
 
 On the vast globe the deepest, while the prow 
 
 Turns northward to the rich disputed strand 
 
 Of Cor'mandel, where Traffic grieves to see 325 
 
 Discord and Avarice invade her realms, 
 
 Portending ruinous war, and cries aloud, 
 
 " Peace, peace, ye blinded Britons ! and ye Gauls ! 
 
 Nation to nation is a light, a fire, 
 
 Enkindling virtue, sciences, and arts " ; 330 
 
 But cries aloud in vain. Yet, wise defence 
 
 Against Ambition's wide-destroying pride, 
 
 Madrass erected, and Saint David's fort, 
 
 And those which rise on Ganges' twenty streams, 
 
 Guarding the woven Fleece, Calcutta's tower, 335 
 
 And Maldo's and Patana's : from their holds 
 
 The shining bales our factors deal abroad, 
 
 And see the country's products, in exchange, 
 
 Before them heap'd ; cotton's transparent webs, 
 
 Aloes, and cassia, salutiferous drugs, 340 
 
 Alom, and lacque, and clouded tortoiseshell, 
 
 And brilliant diamonds, to decorate 
 
 Britannia's blooming nymphs. For these, o'er all
 
 Il6 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 The kingdoms round, our drap'ries are dispers'd, 
 
 O'er Bukor, Cabul, and the Bactrian vales, 345 
 
 And Cassimere, and Atoc, on the stream 
 
 Of old Hydaspes, Poms' hardy realm ; 
 
 And late-discover'd Tibet, where the Fleece, 
 
 By art peculiar, is compress'd and wrought 
 
 To threadless drapery, which in conic forms 350 
 
 Of various hues their gaudy roofs adorns. 
 
 The keels which voyage thro' Molucca's Straits 
 Amid a cloud of spicy odours sail, 
 From Java and Sumatra breath'd, whose woods 
 Yield fiery pepper, that destroys the moth 355 
 
 In woolly vestures. Ternate and Tidore 
 Give to the festal board the fragrant clove 
 And nutmeg, to those narrow bounds confin'd, 
 While gracious Nature, with unsparing hand, 
 The needs of life o'er every region pours. 360 
 
 Near those delicious isles the beauteous coast 
 Of China rears its summits. Know ye not, 
 Ye sons of Trade ! that ever-flow'ry shore, 
 Those azure hills, those woods and nodding rocks ? 
 Compare them with the pictures of your chart ; 365 
 Alike the woods and nodding rocks o'erhang. 
 Now the tall glossy tow'rs of porcelain 
 And pillar'd pagod shine ; rejoic'd they see 
 The port of Canton opening to their prows, 
 And in the winding of the river moor v 370 
 
 Upon the strand they heap their glossy bales ; 
 And works of Birmingham, in brass or steel, 
 And flint, and pond'rous lead, from deep cells rais'd, 
 Fit ballast in the fury of the storm, 
 That tears the shrouds, and bends the stubborn 
 mast : 375 
 
 These for the artists of the Fleece procure 
 Various materials ; and for affluent life
 
 THE FLEECE 117 
 
 The flavour'd thea and glossy-painted vase ; 
 Things elegant, ill-titled Luxuries, 
 In temperance us'd delectable and good. 380 
 
 They too from hence receive the strongest thread 
 Of the green silkworm. Various is the wealth 
 Of that renown'd and ancient land, secure 
 In constant peace and commerce ; till'd to th' height 
 Of rich fertility, where, thick as stars, 385 
 
 Bright habitations glitter on each hill, 
 And rock, and shady dale ; ev'n on the waves 
 Of copious rivers, lakes, and bord'ring seas, 
 Rise floating villages. No wonder, when 
 In every province firm and level roads, 390 
 
 And long canals, and navigable streams, 
 Ever with ease conduct the works of toil 
 To sure and speedy markets, thro' the length 
 Of many a crowded region, many a clime, 
 To the imperial tow'rs of Cambalu, 395 
 
 Now Pekin, where the Fleece is not unknown ; 
 Since Calder's woofs, and those of Exe and Frome, 
 And Yare, and Avon flow, and rapid Trent, 
 Thither by Russic caravans are brought, 
 Thro' Scythia's num'rous regions, waste and wild, 400 
 Journey immense ! which to th' attentive ear 
 The Muse, in faithful notes, shall brief describe. 
 From the proud mart of Petersburg, ere-while 
 The watery seat of Desolation wide, 
 Issue these trading caravans, and urge, 405 
 
 Thro' dazzling snows, their dreary trackless road ; 
 By compass steering oft from week to week, 
 From month to month; whole seasons view their 
 
 toils. 
 
 Neva they pass, and Kesma's gloomy flood, 
 Volga, and Don, and Oka's torrent prone, 410 
 
 Threatening in vain ; and many a cataract
 
 Il8 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 In its fall stopp'd, and bound with bars of ice. 
 
 Close on the left unnumber'd tracks they view 
 White with continual frost ; and on the right 
 The Caspian Lake, and ever-flow'ry realms, 415 
 
 Tho' now abhorr'd, behind them turn, the haunt 
 Of arbitrary rule, where regions wide 
 Are destin'd to the sword ; and on each hand 
 Roads hung with carcases, or under foot 
 Thick strown; while in their rough bewilder'd vales 420 
 The blooming rose its fragrance breathes in vain, 
 And silver fountains fall, and nightingales 
 Attune their notes, where none are left to hear. 
 
 Sometimes o'er level ways, on easy sleds, 
 The gen'rous horse conveys the sons of Trade, 425 
 And ever and anon the docile dog, 
 And now the light rein-deer, with rapid pace 
 Skims over icy lakes : now slow they climb 
 Aloft o'er clouds, and then adown descend 
 To hollow vallies, till the eye beholds 430 
 
 The roofs of Tobol, whose hill-crowning walls 
 Shine, like the rising moon, thro' watery mists ; 
 Tobol ! th' abode of those unfortunate 
 Exiles of angry state, and thralls of war ; 
 Solemn fraternity ! where earl and prince, 435 
 
 Soldier and statesman, and uncrested chief, 
 On the dark level of adversity 
 Converse familiar ; while amid the cares 
 And toils for hunger, thirst, and nakedness, 
 Their little public smiles, and the bright sparks 44 
 Of trade are kindled. Trade arises oft, 
 And virtue, from adversity and want : 
 Be witness, Carthage ! witness, ancient Tyre ! 
 And thou, Batavia ! daughter of distress. 
 This with his hands, which erst the truncheon held, 445 
 The hammer lifts ; another bends and weaves
 
 THE FLEECE 119 
 
 The flexile willow ; that the mattoc drives : 
 
 All are employ'd, and by their works acquire 
 
 Our fleecy vestures. From their tenements, 
 
 Pleas'd and refresh'd, proceeds the caravan 45 
 
 Thro' lively-spreading cultures, pastures green, 
 
 And yellow tillages in opening woods ; 
 
 Thence on, thro' Narim's wilds, a pathless road 
 
 They force, with rough entangling thorns perplex'd ; 
 
 Land of the lazy Ostiacs, thin dispers'd, 455 
 
 Who, by avoiding, meet the toils they loathe, 
 
 Tenfold augmented ; miserable tribe ! 
 
 Void of commercial comforts ; who nor corn, 
 
 Nor pulse, nor oil, nor heart-enlivening wine, 
 
 Know to procure; nor spade, nor scythe, nor share, 460 
 
 Nor social aid : beneath their thorny bed 
 
 The serpent hisses, while in thickets nigh 
 
 Loud howls the hungry wolf. So on they fare, 
 
 And pass by spacious lakes, begirt with rocks 
 
 And azure mountains, and the heights admire 4 6 5 
 
 Of white Imaus, whose snow-nodding crags 
 
 Frighten the realms beneath, and from their urns 
 
 Pour mighty rivers down, th' impetuous streams 
 
 Of Oby' and Irtis, and Jenisca swift, 
 
 Which rush upon the northern pole, upheave 47 
 
 Its frozen seas, and lift their hills of ice. 
 
 These rugged paths and savage landscapes pass'd, 
 A new scene strikes their eyes : among the clouds 
 Aloft they view, what seems a chain of cliffs, 
 Nature's proud work, that matchless work of art, 475 
 The wall of China, by Chihoham's power, 
 In earliest times, erected. Warlike troops 
 Frequent are seen in haughty march along 
 Its ridge, a vast extent ! beyond the length 
 Of many a potent empire : towers and ports, 480 
 
 Three times a thousand, lift thereon their brows
 
 120 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 At equal spaces, and in prospect round 
 Cities and plains, and kingdoms overlook. 
 
 At length the gloomy passage they attain 
 Of its deep-vaulted gates, whose opening folds 4 8 5 
 Conduct at length to Pekin's glittering spires, 
 The destin'd mart, where joyous they arrive. 
 Thus are the textures of the Fleece convey'd 
 To China's distant realm, the utmost bound 
 Of the flat floor of steadfast earth ; for so 49 
 
 Fabled Antiquity, ere peaceful Trade 
 Inform'd the opening mind of curious man. 
 
 Now to the other hemisphere, my Muse ! 
 A new world found, extend thy daring wing. 
 Be thou the first of the harmonious Nine, 495 
 
 From high Parnassus, the unweary'd toils 
 Of industry and valour, in that world 
 Triumphant, to reward with tuneful song. 
 Happy the voyage o'er th' Atlantic brine 
 By active Raleigh made, and great the joy 5 
 
 When he discern'd, above the foamy surge, 
 A rising coast, for future colonies 
 Opening her bays, and figuring her capes, 
 Ev'n from the northern tropic to the pole. 
 No land gives more employment to the loom, 55 
 Or kindlier feeds the indigent ; no land 
 With more variety of wealth rewards 
 The hand of Labour : thither from the wrongs 
 Of lawless rule the free-born spirit flies ; 
 Thither Affliction, thither Poverty, 5 10 
 
 And Arts and Sciences : thrice happy clime, 
 Which Britain makes th' asylum of mankind ! 
 
 But joy superior far his bosom warms 
 Who views those shores in ev'ry culture dress'd ; 
 With habitations gay, and numerous towns, 5 ! 5 
 
 On hill and valley, and his countrymen
 
 THE FLEECE 121 
 
 Form'd into various states, pow'rful and rich, 
 
 In regions far remote ; who from our looms 
 
 Take largely for themselves, and for those tribes 
 
 Of Indians, ancient tenants of the land, S 20 
 
 In amity conjoin'd, of civil life 
 
 The comforts taught, and various new desires, 
 
 Which kindle arts, and occupy the poor, 
 
 And spread Brittania's flocks o'er every dale. 
 
 Ye who the shuttle cast along the loom, 5 2 5 
 
 The silk-worms' thread inweaving with the Fleece, 
 Pray for the culture of the Georgian tract, 
 Nor slight the green savannahs and the plains 
 Of Carolina, where thick woods arise 
 Of mulberries, and in whose water'd fields 53 
 
 Upsprings the verdant blade of thirsty rice. 
 Where are the happy regions which afford 
 More implements of commerce and of wealth ? 
 
 Fertile Virginia, like a vigorous bough, 
 Which overshades some crystal river, spreads 535 
 Her wealthy cultivations wide around, 
 And, more than many a spacious realm, rewards 
 The Fleecy shuttle : to her growing marts, 
 The Iroquese, Cheroques, and Oubacks, come, 
 And quit their feathery ornaments uncouth 54 
 
 For woolly garments ; and the cheers of life, 
 The cheers, but not the vices, learn to taste. 
 Blush, Europeans ! whom the circling cup 
 Of Luxury intoxicates. Ye routs, 
 Who for your crimes have fled your native land ; 545 
 And ye voluptuous idle, who in vain 
 Seek easy habitations, void of care ; 
 The sons of Nature with astonishment 
 And detestation mark your evil deeds, 
 And view, no longer aw'd, your nerveless arms, 550 
 Unfit to cultivate Ohio's banks.
 
 122 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 See the bold emigrants of Accadie, 
 And Massachuset, happy in those arts 
 That join the polities of trade and war, 
 Bearing the palm in either ; they appear 555 
 
 Better exemplars ; and that hardy crew 
 Who on the frozen beach of Newfoundland 
 Hang their white fish amid the parching winds ; 
 The kindly Fleece, in webs of Duffield woof, 
 Their limbs, benumb'd, enfolds with cheerly 
 warmth, 560 
 
 And frize of Cambria, worn by those who seek, 
 Thro' gulfs and dales of Hudson's winding bay, 
 The beaver's fur, tho' oft they seek in vain, 
 While winter's frosty rigour checks approach 
 Ev'n in the fiftieth latitude. Say why, 565 
 
 (If ye the travell'd sons of Commerce know) 
 Wherefore lie bound their rivers, lakes, and dales, 
 Half the sun's annual course, in chains of ice ? 
 While the Rhine's fertile shore, and Gallic realms, 
 By the same zone encircled, long enjoy 570 
 
 Warm beams of Phrebus, and, supine, behold 
 Their plains and hillocks blush with clust'ring vines ? 
 
 Must it be ever thus ? or may the hand 
 Of mighty Labour drain their gusty lakes, 
 Enlarge the bright'ning sky, and, peopling, warm 575 
 The op'ning valleys and the yellowing plains ? 
 Or rather shall we burst strong Darien's chain, 
 Steer our bold fleets between the cloven rocks, 
 And thro' the great Pacific every joy 
 Of civil life diffuse ? Are not her isles 580 
 
 Numerous and large ? have they not harbours calm, 
 Inhabitants, and manners? haply, too, 
 Peculiar sciences, and other forms 
 Of trade, and useful products, to exchange 
 For woolly vestures ? 'Tis a tedious course 585
 
 THE FLEECE 123 
 
 By the Antarctic circle ; nor beyond 
 
 Those sea-wrapt gardens of the dulcet reed, 
 
 Bahama and Caribbee, may be found 
 
 Safe mole or harbour, till on Falkland's Isle 
 
 The standard of Britannia shall arise. 590 
 
 Proud Buenos Aires, low-couched Paraguay, 
 
 And rough Corrientes, mark, with hostile eye, 
 
 The labouring vessel : neither may we trust 
 
 The dreary naked Patagonian land, 
 
 Which darkens in the wind : no traffic there, 595 
 
 No barter, for the Fleece : there angry storms, 
 
 Bend their black brows, and, raging, hurl around 
 
 Their thunders. Ye adventurous Mariners ! 
 
 Be firm ; take courage from the brave : 't was there 
 
 Perils and conflicts inexpressible 600 
 
 Anson, with steady undespairing breast, 
 
 Endur'd, when o'er the various globe he chas'd 
 
 His country's foes. Fast-gathering tempests rouz'd 
 
 Huge ocean, and involv'd him : all around 
 
 Whirlwind, and snow, and hail, and horror : now, 605 
 
 Rapidly, with the world of waters, down 
 
 Descending to the channels of the deep, 
 
 He vievv'd th' uncover'd bottom of th' abyss, 
 
 And now the stars, upon the loftiest point 
 
 Toss'd of the sky-mix'd surges. Oft the burst 610 
 
 Of loudest thunder, with the dash of seas, 
 
 Tore the wild-flying sails and tumbling masts, 
 
 While flames, thick-flashing in the gloom, reveal'd 
 
 Ruins of decks, and shrouds, and sights of death. 
 
 Yet on he far'd, with fortitude his cheer, 615 
 
 Gaining, at intervals, slow way beneath 
 Del Fuego's rugged cliffs, and the white ridge 
 Above all height, by opening clouds reveal'd, 
 Of Montegorda, and inaccessible 
 Wreck-threatening Staten Land's o'erhanging shore, 620
 
 124 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Enormous rocks on rocks, in ever wild 
 
 Posture of falling ; as when Pelion rear'd 
 
 On Ossa, and on Ossa's tottering head 
 
 Woody Olympus, by the angry gods 
 
 'Precipitate on earth were doomed to fall. 625 
 
 At length, thro' every tempest, as some branch 
 Which from a poplar falls into a loud 
 Impetuous cataract, tho' deep immers'd, 
 Yet re-ascends, and glides, on lake or stream, 
 Smooth thro' the valleys ; so his way be won 630 
 
 To the serene Pacific, flood immense ! 
 And rear'd his lofty masts, and spread his sails. 
 Then Paita's walls, in wasting flames involv'd, 
 His vengeance felt, and fair occasion gave 
 To show humanity and continence, 635 
 
 To Scipio's not inferior. Then was left 
 No corner of the globe secure to Pride 
 And Violence, altho' the far-stretch'd coast 
 Of Chili, and Peru, and Mexico, 
 Arm'd in their evil cause ; tho' fell Disease, 640 
 
 Un'bating Labour, tedious Time, conspir'd, 
 And Heat inclement, to unnerve his force ; 
 Tho' that wide sea, which spreads o'er half the 
 
 world, 
 
 Deny'd all hospitable land or port ; 
 Where, seasons voyaging, no road he found 645 
 
 To moor, no bottom in th' abyss whereon 
 To drop the fastening anchor ; tho' his brave 
 Companions ceas'd, subdu'd by toil extreme ; 
 Tho' solitary left in Tinian's seas, 
 Where never was before the dreaded sound 650 
 
 Of Britain's thunder heard ; his wave-worn bark 
 Met, fought the proud Iberian, and o'ercame. 
 So fare it ever with our country's foes ! 
 
 Rejoice, ye Nations ! vindicate the sway
 
 THE FLEECE 12? 
 
 Ordain'd for common happiness. Wide, o'er 655 
 
 The globe terraqueous, let Britannia pour 
 
 The fruits of plenty from her copious horn. 
 
 What can avail to her, whose fertile earth 
 
 By Ocean's briny waves are circumscrib'd, 
 
 The armed host, and murdering sword of war, 660 
 
 And conquest o'er her neighbours ? She ne'er breaks 
 
 Her solemn compacts in the lust of rule : 
 
 Studious of arts and trade, she ne'er disturbs 
 
 The holy peace of states. 'Tis her delight 
 
 To fold the world with harmony, and spread, 665 
 
 Among the habitations of mankind, 
 
 The various wealth of toil, and what her Fleece, 
 
 To clothe the naked, and her skilful looms 
 
 Peculiar give. Ye, too, rejoice, ye Swains ! 
 
 Increasing commerce shall reward your cares. 670 
 
 A day will come, if not too deep we drink 
 
 The cup which luxury on careless wealth, 
 
 Pernicious gift ! bestows ; a day will come 
 
 When, thro' new channels sailing, we shall clothe 
 
 The Californian coast, and all the realms 675 
 
 That stretch from Hainan Straits to proud Japan, 
 
 And the green isles, which on the left arise 
 
 Upon the glassy brine, whose various capes 
 
 Not yet are figur'd on the sailors' chart : 
 
 Then every variation shall be told 680 
 
 Of the magnetic steel, and currents mark'd 
 
 Which drive the heedless vessel from her course. 
 
 That portion, too, of land, a track immense, 
 Beneath th' Antarctic spread, shall then be known, 
 And new plantations on its coast arise. 685 
 
 Then rigid winter's ice no more shall wound 
 The only naked animal ; but man 
 With the soft Fleece shall every where be cloath'd. 
 Th' exulting Muse shall then, in vigour fresh,
 
 126 THE POEMS OF JOHN DYER 
 
 Her flight renew : meanwhile, with weary wing 690 
 
 O'er ocean's wave returning, she explores 
 
 Siluria's flow'ry vales, her old delight, 
 
 The shepherd's haunts, where the first springs arise 
 
 Of Britain's happy trade, now spreading wide, 
 
 Wide as th' Atlantic and Pacific seas, 695 
 
 Or as air's vital fluid o'er the globe.
 
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