Come, leave this loathed Country-life, and then Grow up to be a Roman Citizen. Those mites of Time, which yet remain unspent, Waste thou in that most Civill Government. Get their comportment, and the gliding tongue Of those mild Men, thou art to live among: Then being seated in that smoother Sphere, Decree thy everlasting Topick there. And to the Farm-house nere return at all; Though Granges do not love thee, Cities shall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL'S RETURN FROM IRELAND by ANDREW MARVELL AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM by ALEXANDER POPE PEGGY, FR. THE GENTLE SHEPHERD by ALLAN RAMSAY MUSIC IN THE NIGHT by HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD THE RIVER-GOD'S SONG by FRANCIS BEAUMONT A CANTO OF KHANS by BERTON BRALEY THE TWICKENHAM AIR by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |