Rural Repose

Now day declines and all is still, Save herds that homeward hie; The sun-beam fades on yonder hill, Soft as a farewell sigh.

Blest mind that no rude tempest knows, But mov'd with joy serene, Sinks smiling into calm repose, Like ev'ning's gentle scene!

But mortals turbulent and vain Know nought of tranquil joy; Oft seeking to inflict a pain, Oft they themselves annoy.

False hopes, false cares, fly high, fly low, To flatter or affright; These trimm'd in fair and specious shew, Those like foul hags of night.

Lo! where ambition seeks to found True pleasure on a name; Like taper-fly, still circling round The giddy torch of fame.

There thunder mighty heroes, braves, Usurping sov'reign sway; The nation's kings, tho' nature's slaves, Vain tyrants of a day.

While here sweet peace, with head reclin'd Upon her downy wing, Eyes with a smile the cottage hind, Or hears him blythly sing!