Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery Thickets hail! Ye lofty Pines! ye venerable Oaks! Ye Ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep! Delicious is your shelter to the soul.
Among the changing months, May stands confest The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed.
Crowned with the sickle, and wheaten sheaf, While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, Comes jovial on.
A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard be-seems, Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, On virtue still, and nature's pleasing themes, Poured from his unpremeditated strain.
An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven!
For loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is when unadorned adorned the most.
But who can paint Like nature? Can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?