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VIII.
To be contented with an humble lotIs the best wisdom, that the mind can shew.
Give me a cottage on some towering cliff,
'Neath which the billows in wild fury rage;
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Adorn its hearth—why—let the tempest rage,
And Fame and Fortune travel where they will.
Beneath yon cliffs thou might'st with joy recount
The many studious journies of thy youth;
Once more enjoy the vineyards of the Loire,
The olived glens of Italy, and vales,
The fragrant vales,—of proud, romantic Spain.
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