"Is not the Field, with lively Culture green,
" A Sight more joyous than the dead Morass?
"Do not the Skies, with active Ether clean,
" And fan'd by sprightly Zephirs, far surpass
"The foul November-Fogs, and slumbrous Mass,
" With which sad Nature veils her drooping Face?
"Does not the Mountain-Stream, as clear as Glass,
" Gay-dancing on, the putrid Pool disgrace?
"The same in All holds true, but chief in Human Race.