ODE TO CONTENT. BY J— C—. CONTENT! who oft art wont to dwell Deep in the solitary dell, Near shady wood, or limpid rill, Or on the side of some hoar hill; Attendant on the shepherd swain, Thou cheer'st his labours on the plain. With thee, he pleas'd pursues his toils, Nor heeds fierce suns, nor stubborn soils. Thee oft I met in Hertford's vale, What time the tuneful nightingale Recited sweet her solemn song The beeches and the oaks among: Upon the banks of Lee reclin'd, Thy visits sooth'd my pensive mind, And drove corroding pain away, And made the rural landscape gay. How verdant then appear'd the trees! How grateful was the western breeze! How sweet the scent of opening flowers! How fair the hedges and the bowers! How bright the sun's enlivening beam! How soft the murmurs of the stream! Adieu, lov'd vale! adieu, smooth stream! Yet still, CONTENT! be thou my theme: 'Tis thee, sweet maid! I wooe again, Attend thy constant lover's strain; Where-e'er 'tis his the lot to stray, O deign with him to take thy way!