But, hark! the village clock strikes nine—the chimes Merrily follow, tuneful to the sense Of the pleased clown attentive, while they make False-measured melody on crazy bells. O wond’rous Power of modulated sound! Which, like the air (whose all-obedient shape Thou makest thy slave), canst subtilly pervade The yielded avenues of sense, unlock The close affections, by some fairy path Winning an easy way through every ear, And with thine unsubstantial quality Holding in mighty chains the hearts of all; All, but some cold and sullen-temper’d spirits, Who feel no touch of sympathy or love. Yet what is music, and the blended power Of voice with instruments of wind and string? What but an empty pageant of sweet noise? ’Tis past: and all that it has left behind Is but an echo dwelling in the ear Of the toy-taken fancy, and beside, A void and countless hour in life’s brief day. But ill accords my verse with the delights Of this gay month:—and see the Villagers Assembling jocund in their best attire To grace this genial morn. Now I descend To join the worldly crowd; perchance to talk, To think, to act as they: then all these thoughts, That lift th’ expanded heart above this spot To heavenly musing, these shall pass away (Even as this goodly prospect from my view) Hidden by near and earthy-rooted cares. So passeth human life—our better mind Is as a Sunday’s garment, then put on When we have nought to do; but at our work We wear a worse for thrift. Of this enough: To-morrow for severer thought; but now To breakfast, and keep festival to-day. NOTES. Note 1, page 4, line 10. _At each return of spring: yet some delight, &c._ An adventitious beauty, arising from that gradual decay, which loosens the withering leaf, gilds the autumnal landscape with a temporary splendor superior to the verdure of spring, or the luxuriance of summer. The infinitely various and ever-changing hues of the leaves at this season, melting into every soft gradation of tint and shade, have long engaged the imitation of the painter, and are equally happy ornaments in the description of the poet.—Aikin’s Essay on the Character of Thompson’s Seasons, prefixed to his edition of them, 1791. Note 2, p. 10, line 7. _Rechasing, lest his tender ewes should coath._ To _coath_, Skinner says, is a word common in Lincolnshire, and signifies, to _faint_. He derives it from the Anglo-Saxon coðe, a _disease_. In Dorsetshire it is in common use, but it is used of sheep only: a _coathed_ sheep is a _rotten_ sheep; to _coath_ is to _take the rot. Rechasing_ is also a term in that county appropriated to flocks: _to chase and rechase_ is to drive sheep at certain times from one sort of ground to another, or from one parish to another.