To the Rev. Mr. Fitzgerald, Rector of Wotton, Surry, MDCCXXXV

While you enjoy a calm and cool retreat, Not vex'd by autumn's wind, or summer's heat, Entrench'd within the bosom of the vale, You catch the morning sun, or evening gale; Then trip the verdant lawn, and pensive muse, Or moralize within the gloom of yews: 'Till something starts to blame or to commend, To please, surprize, and to instruct a friend. The sands then lose their barrenness, for they Produce a cheerful song, or moral lay. The villa, garden, mountain, meadow, rill, Rise all-spontaneous to the fertile quill; Grow in your verse, and grow to fair renown; While others property you make your own.

Forgive me, if the long-neglected lyre I touch, to warble lays thy lines inspire: If I the tender notes of friendship raise, Yet greatly envy what I fondly praise. As humble as thy heart I view thy vill, Thy song as lofty as yon chalky hill. I view thy mind, and, undeceiv'd, can tell How taste with true simplicity can dwell: How the calm dictates of thy mind dispense Mirth to reserve, and solitude to sense.

See the great world, see all its busy strife Is but to wander thro' the maze of life: Tir'd, from the down of Pleasure's pamper'd bed, They rise, they yawn, are dress'd, fatigued, and fed: And, in the chase of one laborious day, A thousand errands make, or visits pay. Ask, for what all this bustle? They must own They hate to think, and dread to be alone. Ask old and young, the giddy girls and wives? Frolick's th' important business of their lives. Soldiers, divines, the sprightly and the sad, All must rush headlong, fashionably mad. Paint thy own heart, thence draw th' instructive plan To teach the Christian how to mend the man.

You, plac'd in happier climes, can truly tell, To live with pleasure is with Truth to dwell: Where gay Content with healthy Temperance meets, And Learning intermixes all its sweets; Where friendship, elegance, and arts unite To make the hours glide social, easy, bright: There taste the converse of the purest mind, Tho' mild, yet manly; and, tho' plain, refin'd; There, thro' the moral world, expatiate wide; Truth is thy end, and Evelyn is thy guide.