When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow.

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!

When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.

Any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with veracity.

Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.

Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! Confusion on thy banners wait! Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.