From thundering fteep to fteep, he pours his urn,
And Egypt joys beneath the fpreading wave.
His brother Niger too, and all the floods In which the full-form'd maids of Afric lave Their jetty limbs; and all that from the tract Of woody mountains ftretch'd thro' gorgeous Ind Fall on Cormandel's coaft, or Malabar; 815 From * Menam's orient ftream, that nightly fhines With infect-lamps, to where Aurora sheds On Indus' fmiling banks the rofy fhower:
All, at this bounteous feafon, ope their urns,
And pour untoiling harvest o'er the land.
NOR lefs thy world, COLUMBUS, drinks, refresh'd,
The lavish moisture of the melting year.
Wide o'er his ifles, the branching Oronoque
Rolls a brown deluge; and the native drives
To dwell aloft on life-fufficing trees,
At once his dome, his robe, his food, and arms.
Swell'd by a thousand ftreams, impetuous hurl'd
From all the roaring Andes, huge defcends
The mighty +Orellana. Scarce the Mufe
Dares ftretch her wing o'er this enormous mass 830
*The river that runs thro' Siam; on whose banks a vaft multitude of thofe infects called Fire-Flies make a beautiful appearance in the night.
+The river of the Amazons.
Ofrufhing water; fcarce she dares attempt
The fea-like Plata to whose dread expanfe,
Continuous depth, and wondrous length of courfe,
Our floods are rills. With unabated force,
In filent dignity they fweep along,
And traverse realms unknown, and blooming wilds,
And fruitful defarts, worlds of folitude,
Where the fun fmiles and feasons teem in vain,
Unfeen, and unenjoy'd. Forfaking thefe,
O'er peopled plains they fair-diffusive flow,
And many a nation feed, and circle fafe,
In their soft bofom, many a happy isle;
The feat of blameless Pan, yet undisturb'd
By chriftian crimes and Europe's cruel fons.
Thus pouring on they proudly feek the deep,
Whofe vanquifh'd tide, recoiling from the fhock,
Yields to this liquid weight of half the globe;
And ocean trembles for his
green domain.
BUT what avails this wondrous wafte of wealth? This gay profufion of luxurious blifs?
This pomp
of Nature? what their balmy meads,
'Their powerful herbs, and Ceres void of pain?
By vagrant birds difpers'd, and wafting winds,
What their unplanted fruits? What the cool draughts,
Th' ambrofial food, rich gums, and spicy health, 855
Their forefts yield? Their toiling infects what,
Their filky pride, and vegetable robes?
Ah! what avail their fatal treasures, hid
Deep in the bowels of the pitying earth,
Golconda's gems, and fad Potofi's mines;
Where dwelt the gentleft children of the fun?
What all that Afric's golden rivers rowl,
Her odorous woods, and fhining ivory ftores?
Ill-fated race! the softening arts of Peace,
Whate'er the humanizing Mufes teach;
The godlike wifdom of the temper'd breast;
Progreffive truth, the patient force of thought;
Investigation calm, whofe filent powers
Command the world; the LIGHT that leads to HEAVEN;
Kind equal rule, the government of laws,
And all-protecting FREEDOM, which alone.
Suftains the name and dignity of Man:
These are not theirs. The Parent-fun himself
Seems o'er this world of flaves to tyrannize;
And, with oppreffive ray, the roseat bloom
Of beauty blasting, gives the gloomy hue,
And feature grofs: or worse, to ruthless deeds,
Mad jealoufy, blind rage, and fell revenge,
Their fervid spirit fires. Love dwells not there,
The foft regards, the tenderness of life,
The heart-shed tear, th' ineffable delight
Of fweet humanity: These court the beam
Of milder climes; in felfifh fierce defire,
And the wild fury of voluptuous fense,
There loft. The very brute-creation there
This rage partakes, and burns with horrid fire.
Lo! the green ferpent, from his dark abode, Which even Imagination fears to tread, At noon forth-iffuing, gathers up his train In orbs immenfe, then, darting out anew, Seeks the refreshing fount; by which diffus'd, He throws his folds: and while, with threatning tongue, And deathful jaws erect, the monfter curls His flaming creft, all other Thirst, appall'd, Or shivering flies, or check'd at distance stands, 895 Nor dares approach. But ftill more direful he, The fmall clofe-lurking minister of fate, Whofe high-concocted venom thro' the veins A rapid lightning darts, arresting swift The vital current. Form'd to humble man, This child of vengeful Nature! There, fublim'd To fearlefs luft of blood, the favage race Roam, licens'd by the fhading hour of guilt, And foul mifdeed, when the pure day has shut His facred eye. The tyger darting fierce, Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd: The lively-fhining leopard, fpeckled o'er With many a spot, the beauty of the wafte; And, fcorning all the taming arts of Man, The keen hyena, felleft of the fell. These, rushing from th' inhospitable woods
Of Mauritania, or the tufted ifles,
That verdant rise amid the Lybian wild,
Innumerous glare around their fhaggy king,
Majeftic, ftalking o'er the printed fand;
And, with imperious and repeated roars,
Demand their fated food. The fearful flocks
Croud near the guardian fwain; the nobler herds,
Where round their lordly bull, in rural ease,
They ruminating lie, with horror hear
The coming rage. Th' awaken'd village starts;
And to her fluttering breast the mother strains
Her thoughtless infant. From the Pyrate's den,
Or ftern Morocco's tyrant fang efcap'd,
The wretch half-wishes for his bonds again:
While, uproar all, the wilderness refounds,
From Atlas eastward to the frighted Nile.
UNHAPPY he! who from the first of joys, Society, cut off, is left alone
Amid this world of death.
Sad on the jutting eminence he fits,
And views the main that ever toils below;
Still fondly forming in the fartheft verge,
Where the round ether mixes with the wave,
Ships, dim-discovered, dropping from the clouds; 935
At evening, to the fetting fun he turns
A mournful eye, and down his dying heart
Sinks helpless; while the wonted roar is up,
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