Where rural cots appear to sight

Where rural cots appear to sight, And various prospects give delight, Trees, hills and dales, and meadows gay, Crown'd with the beauties of the May; Where lambkins sport, and thro' the grove, Is heard the tender cooing dove, And ruddy nymph, and rustic swain, Make sweet the pleasures of the plain.

As soon as Phoebus gilds the morn, And cheerful sounds the huntsman's horn; Soon as the lark begins his song, The happy moments to prolong; The peasants rise to daily toil, To reap the field, or till the soil, And as they labour, sing the strain, Sweet are the pleasures of the plain.

At noon when sultry Phoebus glows, The spreading oak a shade bestows, Where with their sav'ry meal they sit, And deal around their artless wit; How happy does the moments pass, Thus friendly seated on the grass? Health waits alike each nymph and swain; Such are the pleasures of the plain.

At eve when Cynthia gilds the scene, And glitters o'er the length'ning green, Then round the pole the youths advance, And beat the ground in mazy dance; The pipe and tabor join so sweet, In concert with their nimble feet: They fear no harm, they feel no pain; Such are the pleasures of the plain.