O NATURE ! grateful for the gifts of mind,
Duteous I bend before thy holy shrine;
To other hands be fortune's goods assign'd,
And thou, more bounteous, grant me only thine!

Bring gentlest Love, bring Fancy to my breast;
And if wild Genius in his devious way,
Would sometimes deign to be my evening guest,
Or near my lone shade not unkindly stray:

I ask no more! for happier gifts than these,
The sufferer, Man, was never born to prove;
But may my soul eternal slumbers seize,
If lost to genius, fancy, and to love!