Hail! thou sequester'd rural seat,
Which ever beauteous dost appear,
Where the sweet songsters oft repeat
Their varied concerts, wild and clear!

Upon thy crystal-bosom'd lake
Th' inverted rocks and trees are seen,
Adorn'd with many a snowy flake,
Or in their leafy robes of green.

O could a rural rhymer sing
The lovely scenes so richly dress'd,
Where piety may plume her wing,
And sweet seclusion form her nest!

Here may the contemplative mind
Trace Nature and her beauties o'er
And meditation rest reclin'd,
Lull'd by the neighbouring cataract's roar.

Here, wearied with gay scenes of life,
The sire may see his children play,
While heav'n has bless'd him with a wife,
Who smiles his happy hours away.

If ever fairies tripp'd along,
Or danc'd around in airy mirth,
They surely to this place lid throng, —
Or else they never danc'd on earth.

The Loves and Graces here might stay;
Th' enamour'd pair, with bosoms true,
Unseen appoint the nuptial day,
Among these scenes for ever new ;

The poet tune his rustic lyre,
If genius trembled on the strings,
And merit modestly aspire,
If friendship deign'd to plume his wings.

O that I could meet tribute pay,
As 'tis upon my heart impress'd!
My song of friendship here would stay,
When waves the grass above my breast.