Sonnet. Farewell to the Country
FAREWELL TO THE COUNTRY .
BY MR. R. A. DAVENPORT .
O ye sweet haunts of Peace and Solitude!
Most loth am I to bid you now farewell,
Again to mingle with the wily brood
That mid the din of busy city dwell:
I would there were for me some quiet cell,
Where I might far from Folly's train abide;
Where never Vice might spread her magic spell,
But still Love, Friendship, and the Muse reside.
Dear, wish'd delights! were you but mine, vain Pride
Might view with scorn my cottage simply drest,
While I would pray that good might him betide,
And thank kind Heaven for an unruffled breast.
But 'twill not be — I must my lot endure,
And Patience soothe the ill she cannot cure.
BY MR. R. A. DAVENPORT .
O ye sweet haunts of Peace and Solitude!
Most loth am I to bid you now farewell,
Again to mingle with the wily brood
That mid the din of busy city dwell:
I would there were for me some quiet cell,
Where I might far from Folly's train abide;
Where never Vice might spread her magic spell,
But still Love, Friendship, and the Muse reside.
Dear, wish'd delights! were you but mine, vain Pride
Might view with scorn my cottage simply drest,
While I would pray that good might him betide,
And thank kind Heaven for an unruffled breast.
But 'twill not be — I must my lot endure,
And Patience soothe the ill she cannot cure.
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