Hermit'S Valley[92]

With eastern winds and flowing sail To these sequestered haunts we came, Where verdant trees and chrystal streams Adorn the sloping, winding vale; Where, from the breezy grove we claim, Our heaven on earth--poetic dreams.

These simple scenes have pleasures more Than all the busy town can show-- More pleasure here Philanthus took, And more he prized this lonely shore, His pen, his pencil, and his book, Than all the groves Madeira bore:

Here still is seen a hermit's cell, Who, fond the haunts of men to fly, Enjoyed his heaven beneath this shade: In mouldering caves so blest to dwell, He sought not from the flowers that die, A verdure, that would never fade.

To crowded courts and would-be kings, Where fawning knaves are most caressed, Who would, though oft' invited, go-- When here so many charming things By Nature to perfection dressed, To please the man of fancy, grow?

The native of this happy spot No cares of vain ambition haunt: Pleased with the partner of his nest, Life flows--and when the dream is out, The earth, which once supplied each want, Receives him--fainting--to her breast.

The earliest trace I can find of this is in the 1795 edition. Text from the 1809 edition. In the table of contents of the latter edition the title is given, "Hermit's Valley, a rural scene on the Schuylkill."

"Western."--Ed. 1795.