Poems on different occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

O thou, whose patient foot has strain'd
To climb this hill with side so green,
When now thy step its brow has gain'd,
From which the distant vales are seen,
Here rest and trace, nor trace in vain,
The various prospect of the plain.

Lo where majestic on that side
A city fam'd thy look requires,
Proud of her wealth, she stretches wide
Her stately domes and lofty spires,
Vain that within her ample bound
The seat of mighty kings is found

O stranger, if the lust of gold
Allures thee from thy native bower,
Or if it be thy wish to hold
A place among the sons of power;
Haste to these walls, there wilt thou find
What most is suited to thy mind.

But art thou of those happier few
Whose soul the Muses have possest,
Who shun the madness of the crew,
With innocence and health to rest?
Turn from these stately towers thy face,
And on this side the prospect trace.

Lo where the green vale winds along
With groves and nameless streams between,
Where the lone shepherd sings his song,
And rears his cott of turf unseen;
These are the haunts befitting thee,
O, hide thee in these vales with me.