The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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The Happy Man.
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
The Happy Man.
High, o'er the winding of a cliffy shore,
From whose worn steep, the back'ning surges roar;
Freeman—sweet lot! in quiet plenty, lives;
Rich, in the unbought wealth, which nature gives;
Un-planted groves rise, round his shelter'd seat,
And self-sown flow'rs attract his wand'ring feet;
Lengths of wild garden his near views adorn,
And far-seen fields wave, with domestic corn.
From whose worn steep, the back'ning surges roar;
Freeman—sweet lot! in quiet plenty, lives;
Rich, in the unbought wealth, which nature gives;
Un-planted groves rise, round his shelter'd seat,
And self-sown flow'rs attract his wand'ring feet;
Lengths of wild garden his near views adorn,
And far-seen fields wave, with domestic corn.
The grateful herds, which his own pastures feed,
Pay their ask'd lives, and, in due tribute, bleed.
Here, in learn'd leisure, he relaxes life,
'Twixt prattling children, and a smiling wife.
Here, on dependant want, he sheds his care,
Moves, amid smiles, and all, he hears, is pray'r.
The world lies round him, like a subject soil,
Stor'd, for his service, but, beneath his toil.
Pay their ask'd lives, and, in due tribute, bleed.
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'Twixt prattling children, and a smiling wife.
Here, on dependant want, he sheds his care,
Moves, amid smiles, and all, he hears, is pray'r.
The world lies round him, like a subject soil,
Stor'd, for his service, but, beneath his toil.
Hence, in a morning walk, his piercing eye
Skims the green ocean, to the circling sky.
And marks, at distance, some returning sail,
Wing'd, by the courtship of a flatt'ring gale.
The fearless crew, concluding danger o'er,
With gladd'ning shouts, salute the op'ning shore.
They think how, best, they may their gains employ,
And antedate thin scenes of promis'd joy.
'Till a near quick-sand checks their shorten'd way,
And the sunk masts point thro' the rising spray.
Freeman starts, sad! revolves the changeful sight,
Where mis'ry can, so soon, succeed delight;
Then, shakes his head, in pity of their fate,
And sweetly conscious, hugs his happier state.
Skims the green ocean, to the circling sky.
And marks, at distance, some returning sail,
Wing'd, by the courtship of a flatt'ring gale.
The fearless crew, concluding danger o'er,
With gladd'ning shouts, salute the op'ning shore.
They think how, best, they may their gains employ,
And antedate thin scenes of promis'd joy.
'Till a near quick-sand checks their shorten'd way,
And the sunk masts point thro' the rising spray.
Freeman starts, sad! revolves the changeful sight,
Where mis'ry can, so soon, succeed delight;
Then, shakes his head, in pity of their fate,
And sweetly conscious, hugs his happier state.
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |