Classic Poem

Ah ! why, my Friend, with impotent desire
Seek'st thou the mild Ausonia's sunny plains,
Or social France, where gay Politeness reigns,
Or Tagus, on whose vine-clad banks aspire
Two regal cities; or th' enraptur'd quire,
In climes long silent who resound their strains,
Whence pour'd the nations, who the proud remains
Of Roman pomp defac'd with sword and fire?
He not unpunish'd, who for foreign shores.
Leaves his own hearth and sweet paternal fields:
In skies more blue, with endless summer blest
Ev'n there his willing exile he deplores;
While all the fond delights his country yields
Rush in new beauty on his anxious breast.