THE RETIREMENT. Stanzas irreguliers. TO MR. ISAAC WALTON. 1. FAREWELL thou busy world, and may Here I can eat, and sleep, and pray, Than he who his whole age out-wears Upon the most conspicuous theatres, Where nought but vanity and vice do reign. 11. Good God! how sweet are all things here! How cleanly do we feed and lie! Lord! what good hours do we keep ! What peace! what unanimity! "Is all our business, all our conversation! IV. O solitude! the soul's best friend, That man acquainted with himself dost make, And all his Maker's wonders to intend; With thee I here converse at will, And would be glad to do so still; For it is thou alone that keep'st the soul awake. VI. 0 my beloved nymph, fair DOVE, Princess of rivers! How I love Upon thy flowery banks to lie, And view thy silver stream, Playing at liberty, And with my angle upon them, The all of treachery, I ever learn'd, to practice and to try! IX. Oh my beloved caves! from dog-star heats, And hotter persecution, safe retreats, What safety, privacy, what true delight Your gloomy entrails make, Have I taken, do I take! How oft, when grief has made me fly, To hide me from society, Even of my dearest friends, have I In your recess's friendly shade All my sorrows open laid, And my most secret woes entrusted to your privacy! X. Lord! would men let me alone, What an over-happy one Should I think myself to be, Might I in this desart place, Which most men by their voice disgrace, Live but undisturb'd and free. Here, in this despised recess, Would I, maugre winter's cold, And the summer's worst excess, Try to live out to sixty full years old, And all the while, Without an envious eye On any thriving under fortune's smile, Contented live, and then contented die. THE Cock has crow'd an hour ago, And labour's overcome by rest. II. We have out-done the work of night, * The morning curtains now are drawn, To strew the way Sol's steeds must tread. VI. Xanthus and Ethon harnest are And, snorting flame, impatient bear VII. The sable cheeks of sullen night To shade the other hemisphere. VIII. The merry lark now takes her wings, And long'd-for day's loud welcome sings, Mounting her body out of sight, As if she meant to meet the light. IX. Now doors and windows are unbarr'd, X. The chimneys now to smoke begin, |