Extract from or Elysian scene

At evening often while the setting sun On the green summit of the eastern groves, Pour'd full his yellow radiance; while the voice Of Zephyr whispering 'midst the rustling leaves, The sound of water murmuring thro' the sedge, The turtle's plaintive call, and music soft Of distants bells, whose ever-varying notes In slow sad measure mov'd, combin'd to sooth The soul to sweet solemnity of thought; Beneath thy branchy bowers of thickest gloom, Much on th' imperfect state of man I have mus'd: How pain o'er half his hours her iron reign Ruthless extends; how pleasure from the path Of innocence allures his steps; how hope Fixes his eye on future joy, that flies His fond pursuit; how fear his shuddering heart Alarms with fancy'd ill; how doubt and care Perplex his thought; how soon the tender rose Of beauty fades; the sturdy oak of strength Declines to earth, and over all our pride Stern time triumphant stands: from general fate To private woes then oft has memory pass'd, And mourn'd the loss of many a friend belov'd.