Tixall Poetry/Retirement

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4307929Tixall PoetryRetirementunknown author

Retirement.


Whatever sins by turns have sway'd me,
Ambition never reach'd my heart;
Its lewd pretences ne'er betray'd me,
In publick ills to act a part.

Let others, fame or wealth pursuing,
Despise a mean but safe retreat;
He ne'er contrive my owne undoing,
Nor stoop so low as to be great.

The faithless court, the pensive 'change,
What solid pleasures can they give?
Oh let me in the country range,
'Tis there we breathe, 'tis there we live.

The beauteous scene of lofty mountains,
Smiling valleys, murmuring fountains,
Lambs in flowery pastures bleating,
Ecchos our complaints repeating;
Birds in cheerfull notes expressing
Nature's bounty, and their blessing;
Bees with busy sounds delighting,
Groves to gentle sleep inviting;
Whisp'ring winds the poplars courting,
Swains in rustic circles sporting;
These afford a lasting pleasure,
Without guilt, and without measure.