Oft did the poet's page beguile,
And force a sigh, or raise a smile.
How blest we stray'd these shades among,
And listen'd to each warbler's song;
Or, starting, heard the bugle-horn,
On evening's gentlest breezes borne.
Oh! memory! these sad tears are thine,
For pleasures now no longer mine;
For she, the sister lov'd so well,
Now silent sleeps in death's dark cell,
And every joy these shades could boast,
On me is now for ever lost.
Still spreads yon beech its ample shade,
In summer's leafy pride array'd;
And still in spring's delightful hour,
Yon chesnuts bear the varied flow'r.
And said I that each charm was lost, That once for me these shades could boast ? No; still to nature's beauties true, I love this landscape to review. What, though no longer gay as free, I tread these paths in ecstasy; Yet still they boast the sacred pow'r To chase dark melancholy's hour; O'er sorrow's wounds they pour a balm, O'er poignant feeling shed a calm; And whisper, as I pensive tread,
These rustling leaves, by autumn spread,
That, as like leaves, our forms of clay
Awhile shall flourish, then decay;
Yet, 'mid the winter of the grave,
The germ immortal, God will save,
And bid it, from the dreary tomb,
In everlasting beauty bloom.
For ever green the plant shall be,
Water'd by immortality;
Around whose fount, in grace divine,
Those earth-rear'd plants shall ever shine.
Delightful day-dreams, where I see
Bright visions of futurity!
Oft have ye robb'd me of my care,
And snatch'd my spirit from despair.
Let no stern moralist look down
Upon these day-dreams with a frown;
Nor deem them fancies of a mind,
To imbecility consign'd.
Oft have they stol'n an hour from grief,
And to my bosom brought relief;
When reason cold denied her aid,
To bear me from pale sorrow's shade.
Yes; they have taught my soul to rise,
To leave the earth, and seek the skies;
Forced me to own, in spite of fate,
That God's decrees were wise and great.
Then, still I hail you, shades approv'd,
In youth, and age matur'd, belov'd;
And still with joy I press the sod
Where oft my infant feet have trod;
And love, though different feelings reign,
To tread the haunts of youth again.
I CARE not for the pomp of kings,
Their pomp is nought to me;
I envy not what glory brings
Of proud supremacy;
Whilst thus at large I'm free to rove
With sunshine in the vale;
To linger in the shady grove,
The mountain top to scale.
O wherefore should I covet now
The wealth of house and land,
Whilst, where the modest lilies grow,
Among the woods 1 stand?
With prospect fair before me spread,
Of meadow, town, and hill,
Fresh beauties, wheresoe'er I tread,
Are bursting on me still.
Let those whom Luxury's hand allures,
In her embraces sleep;
Thy presence lowlier joy ensures,
Where op'ning flow'rets peep
From mossy banks, whereon I lie,
Whilst overhead is heard,
Amid the trees, and in the sky,
The voice of many a bird.
Let those who love the wine-cup, fill
Their rosy goblet high:
I envy not-yon crystal rill
Shall all my wants supply;
And drinking in with that clear stream
The spirit of content,
My humble draught endow'd shall seem
With joy as permanent.
And softer couch what limbs can claim,
Than that which rests me here,
Where flowers of tenderest hue and name,
Their honied petals rear;
And oh! what tones of syren-song
The heart so well deceives,
As where soft breezes flit among
Yon wilderness of leaves.
Oh! is not earth and all its pride;
The ocean and its isles ;
The heaven with light diversified,
That on our pathway smiles :
Oh! are not these, to such as gaze
With eye of faith, a store
Of blessed things beyond our praise,
Persuasive to adore ?
He owns the most who covets least:
Possession is not wealth;
The peasant boasts a constant feast,
With humbleness and health;
Whilst he, for whom the east and west
Their thousand treasures blend,
Amid his countless stores unblest,
May vainly seek a friend.
He little knows, whom Pleasure keeps
In languor's silken halls,
Who in the lap of fulness sleeps,
Whom daintiness enthrals,
How happy they! who, free to roam
Among the forests green,
Can make each chosen spot a home
Of solitude serene.
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