Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!- The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.

Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.

Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.

And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.

When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.

A cheerful life is what the Muses love. A soaring spirit is their prime delight.

Oh, blank confusion! true epitome Of what the mighty City is herself, To thousands upon thousands of her sons, Living amid the same perpetual whirl Of trivial objects, melted and reduced To one identity.