II. In a shady Valley, near a running Water. O! Let me haunt this peaceful shade; Nor let ambition e'er invade The tenants of this leafy bow'r, That shun her paths, and slight her pow'r. Hither the plaintive halcyon flies From social meads and open skies; Pleas'd, by this rill, her course to steer, And hide her saphire plumage here. The trout, bedropt with crimson stains, Forsakes the river's proud domains; Forsakes the sun's unwelcome gleam, To lurk within this humble stream. And sure I heard the Naiad say, "Flow, flow, my stream! this devious way; "Tho' lovely soft thy murmurs are, "Thy waters, lovely cool and fair! "Flow, gentle stream! nor let the vain "Thy small unsully'd stores disdain: "Nor let the pensive sage repine, "Whose latent course resembles thine. "