CHARLES COTTON, ESQ. xxix 



From some aspiring mountain's crown. 



How dearly do I love. 

 Giddy with pleasure to look down ; 

 And, from the vales, to view the noble heights above t 

 Oh, my beloved caves, from dog-star's heat. 

 And all anxieties my safe retreat ! 

 What safety, privacy, what true delight^ 

 In the artificial night 

 Your gloomy entrails make. 

 Have I taken, do I take / 

 How oft when grief has made mejly. 

 To hide me from society 

 Ev'n of my dearest friends, have /, 

 In your rtcesses' friendly shade. 

 All my sorrows open laid. 

 And my most secret woes intrusted to your privacy ! 



IX. 



Lord ! would men let me alone. 

 What an over-happy one 



Should I think myself to be, 

 Might I in this desert place 

 ( Which most men in discourse disgrace). 



Live but undisturbed and free ! 

 Here, in this despis'd 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 



Gn any thriving under fortune's smile. 

 Contented live, and then contented die. 



* This he did not, but died, aged 57, in 1687. 



