Trifles :: :: University of Virginia Library

Welcome, fair scene; welcome, thou lov'd retreat,
From the vain hurry of the bustling great.
Here let me walk, or in this fragrant bower,
Wrap'd in calm thought improve each fleeting hour.
My soul, while nature's beauties feast mine eyes,
To nature's God contemplative shall rise.

What are ye now, ye glittering, vain delights,
Which waste our days, and rob us of our nights?
What your allurements? what your fancy'd joys?
Dress, equipage, and show, and pomp, and noise.
Alas! how tasteless these, how low, how mean,
To the calm pleasures of this rural scene?

Come then, ye shades, beneath your bending arms
Enclose the fond admirer of your charms;
Come then, ye bowers, receive your joyful guest,
Glad to retire, and in retirement blest;

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Come, ye fair flowers, and open ev'ry sweet;
Come, little birds, your warbling songs repeat,
And O descend to sweeten all the rest,
Soft smiling peace, in white-rob'd virtue drest;
Content unenvious, ease with freedom join'd,
And contemplation calm, with truth refin'd:
Deign but in this fair scene with me to dwell,
All noise and nonsense, pomp and show farewell.

And see! O see! the heav'n-born train appear!
Fix then, my heart; thy happiness is here.