How blithsome were we wont to rove,
By verdant hill, or shady grove,
Where fervent bees, with humming voice,
Around the honey'd oak rejoice,
And aged elms with awful bend
In long cathedral walks extend!
Lull'd by the lapse of gliding floods,
Cheer'd by the warbling of the woods,
How blest my days, my thoughts how free,
In sweet society with thee!
Then all was joyous, all was young,
And years unheeded roll'd along;
But now the pleasing dream is o'er,
These scenes must charm me now no more:
Lost to the field, and torn from you,-
Farewell!—a long, a last adieu.
Me, wrangling courts, and stubborn Law, To smoak, and crowds, and cities draw; There selfish Faction rules the day, And Pride and Av'rice throng the way; Diseases taint the murky air, And midnight conflagrations glare; Loose Revelry and Riot bold In frighted streets their orgies hold; Or, when in silence all is drown'd, Fell Murder walks her lonely round: No room for Peace, no room for you, Adieu, celestial Nymph, adieu!
Shakspeare no more, thy sylvan son,
Nor all the art of Addison,
Pope's heav'n-strung lyre, nor Waller's ease,
Nor Milton's mighty self must please :
Instead of these, a formal band,
In furs and coifs, around me stand;
With sounds uncouth, and accents dry,
That grate the soul of harmony,
Each pedant sage unlocks his store
Of mystic, dark, discordant lore;
And points with tott'ring hand the ways
That lead me to the thorny maze.
There, in a winding, close retreat, Is Justice doom'd to fix her seat; There, fenc'd by bulwarks of the Law, She keeps the wond'ring world in awe; And there from vulgar sight retir'd, Like eastern queens, is more admir'd.
O let me pierce the secret shade
Where dwells the venerable maid!
There humbly mark, with rev'rent awe,
The guardian of Britannia's Law,
Unfold with joy her sacred page;
(Th' united boast of many an age,
Where mix'd, yet uniform, appears
The wisdom of a thousand years)
In that pure spring the bottom view,
Clear, deep, and regularly true,
And other doctrines thence imbibe
'Than lurk within the sordid scribe;
Observe how parts with parts unite
In one harmonious rule of right;
See countless wheels distinctly tend
By various laws to one great end;
While mighty Alfred's piercing soul
Pervades, and regulates the whole.
Then welcome business, welcome strife,
Welcome the cares, the thorns of life,
The visage wan, the pore-blind sight,
The toil by day, the lamp at night,
The tedious forms, the solemn prate,
The pert dispute, the dull debate,
The drowsy bench, the babbling Hall,
For thee, fair Justice, welcome all!
Thus though my noon of life be past,
Yet let my setting sun at last
Find out the still, the rural cell,
Where sage retirement loves to dwell!
There let me taste the home-felt bliss
Of innocence and inward peace;
Untainted by the guilty bribe;
Uncurs'd amid the harpy tribe;
No orphan's cry to wound my ear;
My honour and my conscience clear;
Thus may I calmly meet my end,
Thus to the grave in peace descend.
WRITTEN A FEW DAYS BEFORE
THE LONG COLLEGE VACATION,
COME, thou laughter-loving pow'r,
Goddess of the festive hour,
Blue-eyed Mirth, and bring along
Gamesome Sport, and jocund Song ;
Wit, with native Humour warm,
Conversation's lively charm,
And yet more, to ope the soul,
Bring, O bring, the jovial bowl;
Let us lift the gladsome shout,
Let us wake the midnight rout,
Briskly let us all advance,
In the sprightly-woven dance;
Every deed, on every side,
Let the soul of rapture guide:
Care begone and Grief adieu!
What have
ye with Joy to do? And thou too, that lov'st to dwell
Musing in the pensive cell,
Heav'nly queen of piercing eye,
Farewell, sweet Philosophy!
What if thou, with hermit-look,
From retirement's farthest nook,
Mark'st the world, in bustling show,
Struggling o'er the waves of woe,
By the wind of black Despair
Dash'd away from care to care,
Whilst thou, calm on safety's shore,
Dost but hear the tempest roar;
What if thou the flow'ry pride
Of the meadow's velvet side,
To the proudly-arching bower,
And the glitt'ring court of power,
Can'st prefer; we envy not,
Holy seer, thy simple lot.
Sisters twin are Youth and Pleasure,
Meant t' enjoy the sweets of leisure,
Made for
every blithsome sport,
Purpose mild, and gay resort.
Age was form'd for meditation,
Not the toys of recreation,
With the smiles of wisdom fraught,
And the glow of solemn thought;
Such is Age, Philosophy,
Such the mind that suits with thee.
But now joys of different kind
Wing the wish, and fire the mind ;
Tumbling rills that warbling flow,
Yellow meads with gold that glow,
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