Ye happy Fields, unknown to Noise and…

Ye happy Fields, unknown to Noise and Strife, The kind Rewarders of industrious Life; Ye shady Woods where once I us'd to rove, To think for Men, and praise the GOD above; Ye murmuring Streams that in Meanders roll, The sweet Composers of the pensive Soul, Farewell.—The City calls me from your Bowers; Farewel amusing Tho'ts and peaceful Hours.