| |
| LOVELY, lasting peace of mind, | |
| Sweet delight of human-kind, | |
| Heavenly born and bred on high, | |
| To crown the fav’rites of the sky | |
| With more of happiness below | 5 |
| Than victors in a triumph know! | |
| Whither, O whither art thou fled, | |
| To lay thy meek, contented head? | |
| What happy region dost thou please | |
| To make the seat of calms and ease? | 10 |
| Ambition searches all its sphere | |
| Of pomp and state, to meet thee there. | |
| Encreasing avarice would find | |
| Thy presence in its gold enshrined. | |
| The bold advent’rer ploughs his way | 15 |
| Through rocks amidst the foaming sea, | |
| To gain thy love, and then perceives | |
| Thou wert not in the rocks and waves. | |
| The silent heart which grief assails | |
| Treads soft and lonesome o’er the vales, | 20 |
| Sees daisies open, rivers run, | |
| And seeks, as I have vainly done, | |
| Amusing thought, but learns to know | |
| That solitude’s the nurse of woe. | |
| No real happiness is found | 25 |
| In trailing purple o’er the ground; | |
| Or in a soul exalted high | |
| To range the circuit of the sky, | |
| Converse with stars above, and know | |
| All Nature in its forms below— | 30 |
| The rest it seeks, in seeking dies, | |
| And doubts at last, for knowledge, rise. | |
| Lovely, lasting peace, appear! | |
| This world itself, if thou art here, | |
| Is once again with Eden blest, | 35 |
| And man contains it in his breast. | |
| ’Twas thus, as under shade I stood, | |
| I sung my wishes to the wood, | |
| And, lost in thought, no more perceived | |
| The branches whisper as they waved; | 40 |
| It seemed as all the quiet place | |
| Confessed the presence of the Grace; | |
| When thus she spoke: ‘Go rule thy will, | |
| Bid thy wild passions all be still; | |
| Know God, and bring thy heart to know | 45 |
| The joys which from religion flow: | |
| Then every Grace shall prove its guest, | |
| And I’ll be there to crown the rest.’ | |
| Oh, by yonder mossy seat, | |
| In my hours of sweet retreat, | 50 |
| Might I thus my soul employ | |
| With sense of gratitude and joy, | |
| Raised, as ancient prophets were, | |
| In heavenly vision, praise, and prayer, | |
| Pleasing all men, hurting none, | 55 |
| Pleased and blest with God alone! | |
| Then, while the gardens take my sight | |
| With all the colours of delight, | |
| While silver waters glide along, | |
| To please my ear and court my song, | 60 |
| I’ll lift my voice, and tune my string, | |
| And Thee, great Source of Nature, sing. | |
| The sun, that walks his airy way | |
| To light the world and give the day; | |
| The moon, that shines with borrowed light; | 65 |
| The stars, that gild the gloomy night; | |
| The seas, that roll unnumbered waves; | |
| The wood, that spreads its shady leaves; | |
| The field, whose ears conceal the grain, | |
| The yellow treasure of the plain; | 70 |
| All of these, and all I see, | |
| Should be sung, and sung by me: | |
| They speak their Maker as they can, | |
| But want and ask the tongue of man. | |
| Go search among your idle dreams, | 75 |
| Your busy or your vain extremes, | |
| And find a life of equal bliss, | |
| Or own the next begun in this. | |
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