Poems on various subjects by Charles Lloyd |
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Address to a Cottage.
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 | Poems on various subjects |  |
47
Address to a Cottage.
Hail, sacred scene of simple joy!
The little rustic cottage hail!
Such as I oft have chanc'd to spy
In far off solitary vale.
The little rustic cottage hail!
Such as I oft have chanc'd to spy
In far off solitary vale.
I know thee by thy whiten'd wall,
Thy lowly roof of warmest thatch,
Thy shadowy arm, thy casement small,
Thy humble door and simple latch.
Thy lowly roof of warmest thatch,
Thy shadowy arm, thy casement small,
Thy humble door and simple latch.
I know thee by thy garden neat,
Where many a useful herb is seen,
Where wall-flowers yield an odour sweet,
And woodbines twine with jas'mines green.
Where many a useful herb is seen,
Where wall-flowers yield an odour sweet,
And woodbines twine with jas'mines green.
Hail rustic cot! thy nameless roof
Each social virtue oft has known,
“Of Faith and Love the matchless proof,”
Thy little tenement has shewn.
Each social virtue oft has known,
“Of Faith and Love the matchless proof,”
Thy little tenement has shewn.
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A happy Husband's calm retreat—
For fate has given a partner dear;
A happy Father's tranquil seat—
For beauteous babes are smiling there.
For fate has given a partner dear;
A happy Father's tranquil seat—
For beauteous babes are smiling there.
There Peace affords a purer joy
Than Luxury could e'er dispense;
There courtly vices ne'er annoy
The ignorance of Innocence.
Than Luxury could e'er dispense;
There courtly vices ne'er annoy
The ignorance of Innocence.
There, if the systematic school
No sophist laws for life enact
To chain the free-born mind to rule—
The native feelings teach to act.
No sophist laws for life enact
To chain the free-born mind to rule—
The native feelings teach to act.
Affection fills the guileless heart,
Each knows that happiness is dear,
And simple Nature tries t'impart
That bliss to every object near.
Each knows that happiness is dear,
And simple Nature tries t'impart
That bliss to every object near.
Hail rustic cot! thy frugal board
Still may thy happy tenants spread,
Ne'er may they court the miser's hoard
While blest with peace and honest bread.
Still may thy happy tenants spread,
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While blest with peace and honest bread.
May Virtue ever dwell with thee,
And Nature's pure sensations bless,
May pain ne'er rise—to agony,
Nor even pleasure—to excess.
And Nature's pure sensations bless,
May pain ne'er rise—to agony,
Nor even pleasure—to excess.
| Poems on various subjects | |