Written from Dublin, to a Lady in the Country. A wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent, Who rarely sees the Firmament, You graciously invite, to view The Sun's enliv'ning Rays with you; To change the Town for flow'ry Meads, And sing beneath the sylvan Shades. You're kind in vain — It will not be — Retirement was deny'd to me; Doom'd by inexorable Fate, To pass thro' crouded Scenes I hate. O with what Joy could I survey The rising, glorious Source of Day! Attend the Shepherd's fleecy Care, Transported with the vernal Air; Behold the Meadow's painted Pride, Or see the limpid Waters glide; Survey the distant, shaded Hills, And, pensive, hear the murm'ring Rills. Thro' your Versailles with Pleasure rove, Admire the Gardens, and the Grove; See Nature's bounteous Hand adorn The blushing Peach, and blooming Thorn; Beheld the Birds distend their Throats, And hear their wild, melodious Notes. Delighted, thro' your Pastures roam, Or see the Kine come lowing home; Whose od'rous Breaths a Joy impart, That sooths the Sense, and glads the Heart; With Pleasure view the frothing Pails, And silent hear the creaking Rails; See whistling Hinds attend their Ploughs, Who never hear of broken Vows; Where no Ambition to be great, E'er taught the Nymph, or Swain, Deceit. Thus thro' the Day, delighted, run; Then raptur'd view the setting Sun; The rich, diffufive God behold, On distant Mountains pouring Gold, Gilding the beauteous, rising Spire, While Crystal Windows glow with Fire; Gaze, till he quit the Western Skies, And long to see his Sister rise; Prefer the silent, Silver Moon To the too radiant, noisy Noon. Or Northward turn, with new Delight, To mark what Triumphs wait the Night; When Shepherds think the Heav'ns foreshow Some dire Commotions here below; When Light the human Form assumes, And Champions meet with nodding Plumes, With Silver Streamers, wide unfurl'd, And gleaming Spears amaze the World. Thence to the higher Heav'ns I soar, And the great Architect adore; Behold what Worlds are hung in Air, And view ten thousand Empires there; Then prostrate to Jehovah fall, Who into Being spake them all.