O Thou by whose almighty nod the scale Of empire rises, or alternate falls, Send forth the saving virtues round the land, In bright patrol: white peace, and social love; The tender-looking charity, intent On gentle deeds, and shedding tears through smiles Undaunted truth, and dignity of mind; Courage compos'd, and keen; sound temperance, Healthful in heart and look; clear chastity, With blushes reddening as she moves along, Disorder'd at the deep regard she draws; Rough industry; activity untir'd, With copious life inform'd, and all awake; While in the radiant front, superior shines That first paternal virtue, public zeal-- Who throws o'er all an equal wide survey, And, ever musing on the common weal, Still labors glorious with some great design. Low walks the sun, and broadens by degrees, Just o'er the verge of day. The shifting clouds Assembled gay, a richly gorgeous train, In all their pomp attend his setting throne. Air, earth, and ocean smile immense. And now As if his weary chariot sought the bowers Of Amphitritè and her tending nymphs, (So Grecian fable sung) he dips his orb; Now half immers'd; and now a golden curve; Gives one bright glance, then total disappears Forever running an enchanted round, Passes the day, deceitful, vain, and void; As fleets the vision o'er the formful brain, This moment hurrying wild the impassion'd soul, The next in nothing lost. 'Tis so to him, The dreamer of this earth, an idle blank: A sight of horror to the cruel wretch Who, all day long in sordid pleasure roll'd, Himself an useless load, has squander'd vile, Upon his scoundrel train, what might have cheer'd A drooping family of modest worth. But to the generous still-improving mind, That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy, Diffusing kind beneficence around, Boastless, as now descends the silent dew-- To him the long review of order'd life Is inward rapture, only to be felt. Confess'd from yonder slow-extinguish'd clouds, All ether softening, sober evening takes Her wonted station in the middle air; A thousand shadows at her beck. First this She sends on earth; then that of deeper dye Steals soft behind, and then a deeper still, In circle following circle, gathers round, To close the face of things. A fresher gale Begins to wave the wood, and stir the stream, Sweeping with shadowy gust the fields of corn; While the quail clamors for his running mate, Wide o'er the thistly lawn, as swells the breeze, A whitening shower of vegetable down Amusive floats. The kind impartial care Of Nature naught disdains: thoughtful to feed Her lowest sons, and clothe the coming year, From field to field the feather'd seeds she wings. [Illustration: Shepherd and milkmaid] [Illustration: At eve the fairy people throng]