WRITTEN AT THE HERMITAGE AT ALDERSBROOK, MDCCLXI. Joseph Cockfield 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. T116245 1137 K093079.004 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. IV. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 p. 132. 4v. ; 8⁰.

This e-text is part of the Works section of the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

XML created for the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

The text has been typographically modernized, but without any silent modernization of spelling, capitalization, or punctuation. The source of the text is given and all editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. Based on the electronic text originally produced by the TCP project, this text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.

Library of Congress Name Authority File (LCNAF) text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center; text-align: right; text-align: left; display: inline font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;
WRITTEN AT THE HERMITAGE AT ALDERSBROOK , MDCCLXI . BY MR. C— . WHoe'er thou art whom chance or choice may bring To these fair groves of venerable shade , The group of tall elms and the silver spring , Blame not the man who these his choice has made . Hast thou not heard , that in a venal age Wise Scipio from the walls of Rome retir'd ; Content to muse on Nature's simple page In the words of Linternum , " Never less alone than when alone , " was his favourite saying . , And scenes the oft'ner view'd , the more admir'd . Silent , like him , oft let me range the wood , At morn's inspiring hour , or twilight grey , And frequent sit where Reddon's ancient flood Winds thro' delightful meads its chrystal way : Ye Great ! unenvy'd 'midst your grandeur shine , Whilst days of tranquil Solitude are mine !