Such the reward of rude and sober life; Of labour such. By health the peasant’s toil Is well repaid; if exercise were pain Indeed, and temperance pain. By arts like these 35 Laconia nurs’d of old her hardy sons; And Rome’s unconquer’d legions urg’d their way, Unhurt, thro’ every toil in every clime. Toil, and be strong. By toil the flaccid nerves Grow firm, and gain a more compacted tone; 40 The greener juices are by toil subdu’d, Mellow’d, and subtilis’d; the vapid old Expell’d, and all the rancor of the blood. Come, my companions, ye who feel the charms Of nature and the year; come, let us stray 45 Where chance or fancy leads our roving walk: Come, while the soft voluptuous breezes fan The fleecy heavens, enwrap the limbs in balm, And shed a charming languor o’er the soul. Nor when bright Winter sows with prickly frost 50 The vigorous ether, in unmanly warmth Indulge at home; nor even when Eurus’ blasts This way and that convolve the lab’ring woods. My liberal walks, save when the skies in rain Or fogs relent, no season should confine 55 Or to the cloister’d gallery or arcade. Go, climb the mountain; from th’ etherial source Imbibe the recent gale. The chearful morn Beams o’er the hills; go, mount th’ exulting steed, Already, see, the deep-mouth’d beagles catch 60 The tainted mazes; and, on eager sport Intent, with emulous impatience try Each doubtful track. Or, if a nobler prey Delight you more, go chase the desperate deer; And thro’ its deepest solitudes awake 65 The vocal forest with the jovial horn.