V1UMU0SE. 
77 
Remote from towns, thy transient life 
Is spent in skies more pure ; 
The suburb smoke, the seat of strife, 
Thou canst but ill endure. 
Coy rustic ! that art blooming found 
Where artless Nature's charms abound. 
Sweet neighbour of the chanter rill; 
Well pleased to sip the silver tide, 
Or, nodding o’er the fountain’s side B 
Self-gazing look thy fill. 
Or, on the dingle’s shadowy steep, 
The gaudy furze beneath, 
Thy modest beauties sweetly peep, 
Thy chaster odours breathe. 
From luxury we turn aside, 
From wealth and ostentatious pride. 
With many an emblematic thorn, 
Thy humbler mien well pleased to meet; 
Like competence in blest retreat, 
Thy smiles the Spring adorn. 
Thy smiles young Innocence invite, 
What time thy lids awake, 
In shadowy lane to taste delight, 
Or mazy tangled brake. 
The infant troop of rosy hue, 
And gay with health I seem to view, 
