University of Virginia Library


146

LEFT WITH THE MINISTER OF RIPONDEN,

A ROMANTIC VILLAGE IN YORKSHIRE.

1758.
Thrice happy you, whoe'er you are,
From life's low cares secluded far,
In this sequester'd vale!—
Ye rocks on precipices pil'd!
Ye ragged desarts, waste and wild!
Delightful horrors, hail!
What joy within these sunless groves,
Where lonely Contemplation roves,
To rest in fearless ease!
Save weeping rills, to see no tear,
Save dying gales, no sigh to hear,
No murmur, but the breeze.
Say, would you change that peaceful cell,
Where Sanctity and Silence dwell,

147

For Splendor's dazzling blaze?
For all those gilded toys that glare
Round high-born power's imperial chair,
Inviting fools to gaze?
Ah friend! Ambition's prospects close,
And, studious of your own repose,
Be thankful here to live:
For, trust me, one protecting shed,
And nightly peace, and daily bread
Is all that life can give.