A HYMN TO CONTENTMENT. Thomas Parnell Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T42652 p. 554 K041605.000 Parnell, Thomas, 1679-1718. Poems on Several Occasions: Written by Dr. Thomas Parnell, Late Arch-Deacon of Clogher: and Published by Mr. Pope. London printed for B. Lintot 1722 [1721] pp. 158-163. [8],221,[3]p.; 8⁰.

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A HYMN TO CONTENTMENT . LOvely , lasting Peace of Mind ! Sweet Delight of human kind ! Heavenly born , and bred on high , To crown the Fav'rites of the Sky With more of Happiness below , Than Victors in a Triumph know ! Whither , O whither art thou fled , To lay thy meek , contented Head ? What happy Region dost thou please To make the Seat of Calms and Ease ? Ambition searches all its Sphere Of Pomp and State , to meet thee there . Encreasing Avarice would find Thy Presence in its Gold enshrin'd . The bold Advent'rer ploughs his way , Thro' Rocks amidst the foaming Sea , To gain thy Love ; and then perceives Thou wert not in the Rocks and Waves . The silent Heart which Grief assails , Treads soft and lonesome o'er the Vales , Sees Daisies open , Rivers run , And seeks ( as I have vainly done ) Amusing Thought ; but learns to know That Solitude's the Nurse of Woe . No real Happiness is found In trailing Purple o'er the Ground : Or in a Soul exalted high , To range the Circuit of the Sky , Converse with Stars above , and know All Nature in its Forms below ; The Rest it seeks , in seeking dies , And Doubts at last for Knowledge rise . Lovely , lasting Peace appear ! This World it self , if thou art here , Is once again with Eden bless'd , And Man contains it in his Breast . 'Twas thus , as under Shade I stood , I sung my Wishes to the Wood , And lost in Thought , no more perceiv'd The Branches whisper as they wav'd : It seem'd , as all the quiet Place Confess'd the Presence of the Grace . When thus she spoke — Go rule thy Will , Bid thy wild Passions all be still , Know God — and bring thy Heart to know , The Joys which from Religion flow : Then ev'ry Grace shall prove its Guest , And I'll be there to crown the rest . Oh ! by yonder Mossy Seat , In my Hours of sweet Retreat ; Might I thus my Soul employ , With sense of Gratitude and Joy : Rais'd as antient Prophets were , In heavenly Vision , Praise , and Pray'r ; Pleasing all Men , hurting none , Pleas'd and bless'd with God alone : Then while the Gardens take my Sight , With all the Colours of Delight ; While silver Waters glide along , To please my Ear , and court my Song : I'll lift my Voice , and tune my String , And thee , great Source of Nature , sing . The Sun that walks his airy Way , To light the World , and give the Day ; The Moon that shines with borrow'd Light ; The Stars that gild the gloomy Night ; The Seas that roll unnumber'd Waves ; The Wood that spreads its shady Leaves ; The Field whose Ears conceal the Grain , The yellow Treasure of the Plain ; All of these , and all I see , Shou'd be sung , and sung by me : They speak their Maker as they can , But want and ask the Tongue of Man . Go search among your idle Dreams , Your busy , or your vain Extreams ; And find a Life of equal Bliss , Or own the next begun in This .