188 THE BEE-HIVES. 



the balmy spoils of many a rustic Hower, "blushing uuseeu," 

 ill simple loveliness. Might not their pleasant murmurmgs 

 awaken in some the memoiy of long-forgotten joys, when 

 the happy country child listened to their soothing music, 

 while intently watching them in the old homestead-garden, 

 t:r roved with them amid pastures and hill-sides, to gather 

 the flowers still rejoicing in their "meadow-sweet breath," 

 or whispermg of the precious perfumes of their forest home? 



"To me more dear, congenial to my heart, 

 One native charm than all the gloss of art; 

 Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play, 

 The soul adopts and owns their first -torn sway; 

 Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, 

 Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined, 

 But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, 

 With all the freaks of wanton wealth array 'd. 

 In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain. 

 The toilsome pleasure sickens into pain; 

 And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy, 

 The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy." 



Goldsmith 



