I FAREWELL thou busy World, and may We never meet again: Here I can eat, and sleep, and pray, And do more good in one short day, Than he who his whole age out-wears Upon thy most conspicuous theatres, Where nought but vice and vanity do reign. II Good God! how sweet are all things here! How beautiful the fields appear! How cleanly do we feed and lie! Lord! what good hours do we keep! How quietly we sleep! What peace! what unanimity! How innocent from the lewd fashion, Is all our bus'ness, all our conversation! III Oh how happy here's our leisure! Oh how innocent our pleasure! Oh ye valleys, oh ye mountains, Oh ye groves and crystal fountains, How I love at liberty, By turn to come and visit ye! IV O Solitude, the soul's best friend, That man acquainted with himself dost make, And all his Maker's wonders to intend; With thee I here converse at will, And would be glad to do so still; For it is thou alone that keep'st the soul awake. V How calm and quiet a delight It is alone To read, and meditate, and write, By none offended, nor offending none; To walk, ride, sit, or sleep at one's own ease, And pleasing a man's self, none other to displease! VI Oh my beloved Nymph! fair Dove, Princess of rivers, how I love Upon thy flow'ry banks to lie, And view thy silver stream, When gilded by a Summer's beam, And in it all thy wanton fry Playing at liberty, And with my angle upon them, The all of treachery I ever learn'd to practise and to try! VII Such streams Rome's yellow Tiber cannot show, The Iberian Tagus, nor Ligurian Po; The Meuse, the Danube, and the Rhine, Are puddle-water all compared with thine; And Loire's pure streams yet too polluted are With thine much purer to compare: The rapid Garonne, and the winding Seine Are both too mean, Beloved Dove, with thee To vie priority: Nay, Tame and Isis, when conjoined, submit, And lay their trophies at thy silver feet. VIII Oh my beloved rocks! that rise To awe the earth, and brave the skies, From some aspiring mountain's crown How dearly do I love, Giddy with pleasure, to look down, And from the vales to view the noble heights above! IX Oh my beloved caves! from dog-star heats, And hotter persecution safe retreats, What safety, privacy, what true delight In the artificial night Your gloomy entrails make, Have I taken, do I take! How oft, when grief has made me fly To hide me from Society, Even of my dearest Friends, have I In your recesses friendly shade All my sorrows open laid, And my most secret woes entrusted to your privacy! X Lord! would men let me alone, What an over-happy one Should I think myself to be, Might I in this desert place, Which most men by their voice disgrace, Live but undisturbed and free! Here, in this despised recess, Would I maugre Winter's cold, And the Summer's worst excess, Try to live out to sixty full years old, And all the while Without an envious eye On any thriving under Fortune's smile, Contented live, and then contented die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIMMENTHAL by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS DAY AND NIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CONFLICT AND PEACE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 34 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE CAPTAIN'S LADY by ROBERT BURNS |