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9fi SONGS, ETC. |
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Oh ! who, when scenes like these are form'd To throw a charm on all around, Who, free from life's fictitious care, Blighted ambition, dark despair, And all the thousand woes that wait Around the sleepless couch of state, Oh ! who from such retreat would stay ? Then to the streamlet haste -way !
Haste to the streamlet, see, the sun Full half his morning course hath run ; The thrush re-seeks the hawthorn bough, The sheep regain the mountain brow, The flowers uplift their prudent head, And round their mingled odours spread ; The swine-herd, too, has left the brae— Then to the streamlet haste away !
Say, can the midnight ball-rooms glare With Dian's chastened beams compare— Can e'en the flute so sweet prevail O'er Philomel's sad plantive tale ? Or where can youth his vows so well As by the moonlight waters tell ? Lov'st thou all these ? with me then stray And to the streamlet haste away ! |
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