Or from the mountain glade's aerial brow, While to her song a thousand echoes call, Marks the wide woodland wave remote below, Where shepherds pipe unseen, and waters fall. 114 Her influence oft the festive hamlet proves, Where the high carol cheers the exulting ring; And oft she roams the maze of wildering groves, Listening the unnumber'd melodies of Spring. 115 Or to the long and lonely shore retires; What time, loose-glimmering to the lunar beam, Faint heaves the slumberous wave, and starry fires Gild the blue deep with many a lengthening gleam. 116 Then to the balmy bower of Rapture borne, While strings self-warbling breathe Elysian rest, Melts in delicious vision, till the morn Spangle with twinkling dew the flowery waste. 117 The frolic Moments, purple-pinion'd, dance Around, and scatter roses as they play; And the blithe Graces, hand in hand, advance, Where, with her loved compeers, she deigns to stray; 118 Mild Solitude, in veil of rustic dye, Her sylvan spear with moss-grown ivy bound; And Indolence, with sweetly languid eye, And zoneless robe that trails along the ground; 119 But chiefly Love--O thou, whose gentle mind Each soft indulgence Nature framed to share; Pomp, wealth, renown, dominion, all resign'd, Oh, haste to Pleasure's bower, for Love is there. 120 Love, the desire of Gods! the feast of heaven! Yet to Earth's favour'd offspring not denied! Ah! let not thankless man the blessing given Enslave to Fame, or sacrifice to Pride. 121 Nor I from Virtue's call decoy thine ear; Friendly to Pleasure are her sacred laws: Let Temperance' smile the cup of gladness cheer; That cup is death, if he withhold applause. 122 Far from thy haunt be Envy's baneful sway, And Hate, that works the harass'd soul to storm; But woo Content to breathe her soothing lay, And charm from Fancy's view each angry form. 123 No savage joy the harmonious hours profane! Whom Love refines, can barbarous tumults please? Shall rage of blood pollute the sylvan reign? Shall Leisure wanton in the spoils of Peace? 124 Free let the feathery race indulge the song, Inhale the liberal beam, and melt in love: Free let the fleet hind bound her hills along, And in pure streams the watery nations rove. 125 To joy in Nature's universal smile Well suits, O man, thy pleasurable sphere; But why should Virtue doom thy years to toil? Ah! why should Virtue's laws be deem'd severe? 126 What meed, Beneficence, thy care repays? What, Sympathy, thy still returning pang? And why his generous arm should Justice raise, To dare the vengeance of a tyrant's fang? 127