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| THE PENCIL 1 dipp’d in various hues, to paint | |
| Great nature’s works, affords a sweet repast. | |
| The mind with pleasing views of God is fill’d, | |
| His beauteous works more beautiful appear, | |
| Which captivate the heart the more they ’re view’d, | 5 |
| And imitation gives more perfect charms. | |
| On fancy’s wings ascend the Aonian mount, | |
| And let thy pencil sketch the landscape wide; | |
| Paint the Castalian fount, rising from foot, | |
| Meandering thence through many a flowery mead, | 10 |
| Blooming with violet and jessamine. | |
| On this side paint a row of lofty elms, | |
| Waving with negligence their branching arms; | |
| On that let rows of spruce and evergreens | |
| Extend through country villages and towns, | 15 |
| With birds of every kind perch’d on their boughs. | |
| Paint cities then extending on the banks, | |
| Whose thousand glittering spires dazzle the morn; | |
| And on the placid waves make boats descend | |
| With streamers gay, and with their silken sails, | 20 |
| Swell’d with Favonian breeze, the breath of eve. | |
| Fields next with growing harvests paint, | |
| And verdant pastures, fill’d with flocks and herds; | |
| And far beyond, a rising wood of pine, | |
| And cedar, ash and maple, oak and fir, | 25 |
| With shade o’er shade, as in a theatre, | |
| Till topmost boughs are lost among the clouds. | |
| A lively green to southward make appear, | |
| Sloping far distant to the ocean broad, | |
| Where lofty ships ride on the foaming main. | 30 |
| Far to the north, over a valley huge, | |
| Let the sight end abrupt, ’midst rocks and trees: | |
| Paint nature here dress’d in her negligee, | |
| A sylvan scene, with virgin tresses crown’d; | |
| Nor let luxuriant fancy go behind | 35 |
| Luxuriant nature in her wild disports. | |
| To westward then a winding path, with trees | |
| Of goodliest shade, and bowers by nature form’d, | |
| From whence a gliding stream may be discern’d; | |
| Now roaring down a horrid crag, and then | 40 |
| With gentle murmurs wind along the glade. | |
| Paint sweet-brier hedges to perfume the air, | |
| With pinks and roses strow the eglantine, | |
| And crown it with the lily’s graceful head. | |
| Above let golden orange, nectarine, | 45 |
| With cherry, plumb and peach, apple and pear, | |
| Bend branches low, tempting the hand to pluck. | |
| Along the ground let all the charming race | |
| Of berries creep;—and then this motto place: | |
| “Fair works of nature are the works of God, | 50 |
| And God in all his beauteous works is seen.” | |
