APPENDIX. 
longingly cried, — 
“ O fields, 0 woods! when, when shall I be made 
The happy tenant of your shade ? 
Here’s the spring-head of Pleasure’s flood. 
Where all the riches lie, that she 
Has coined and stamped for good.” 
\nne. 
Countess 
of Winchelsea, sings, — 
“ Give me, O indulgent Fate, 
Give me yet, before I die, 
A sweet but absolute retreat 
’Mong paths so lost and trees so high. 
That the world may ne’er invade, 
Through such windings and such shade. 
My unshaken liberty. 
* * * * 
Fruits indeed would Heaven bestow, 
All that did in Eden grow. 
All but the forbidden tree 
Would be coveted by me: 
Grapes with juice so crowded up, 
As breaking through the native cup; 
Figs yet growing, candied o’er 
By the sun’s attracting power; 
Cherries, with the downy peach, 
All within my easy reach ; 
While creeping near the humble ground 
Should the strawberry be found, 
Springing wheresoe’er I strayed 
Through those windings and that shade.” 
