THE FORESTERS. 61 



No tinsel'd scoundrel tramples the distrest; 

 No thief in black demands his tenth in sheaves ; 

 But man from God abundantly receives. 

 In rustic dress you range the echoing wood, 

 Health makes you gay, and simple manners good ; 

 Society's best joys your bosoms know, 

 And plenty's smiling cup without its wo. 

 Farewell, good friends ! be virtue still your guide, 

 Still scorn injustice, cruelty and pride, 

 ^hate'erbe your pursuits, whate'er your care, 

 Let temperance, peace and industry be there; 

 From these, want, pain, and care, and ruin fly, 

 And half the ills that teach mankind to sigh. 

 Fear not success ! though one attempt should fail, 

 Fate yields when strength and constancy assail ; 

 ^tore up your harvests, sow your winter grain, 

 Prepare your troughs the maple's juice to drain, 

 Then, when the wintry north outrageous blows. 

 And nought is seen but one wide waste of snows, 

 Ascend the fleeting sleigh, and like the wind, 

 S^our o'er the hills and leave the wood behind, 

 Along the drifted swamps and mountains high, 

 O'er rocks and narrows(44) make your horses fly, 

 ►Shoot o'er the Susquehanna's frozen face, 

 And bleak Wyoming's lofty hills retrace; 

 Nor let the hunter's hut, or venison stale, 

 Or his loved bottle, or his wond'rous tale, 

 Ot deer and bear your lingrerino- steeds detain ; 

 *>ut swift descend, and seek the southern plain ; 

 There where the clouds of Philadelphia rise, 

 And Gray's flat bridge across the Schuylkill lies ; 



D2 



