AN INSCRIPTION WRITTEN AT A FAVOURITE RETIREMENT IN MAY MDCCLVIII.

BY THE SAME.

WHAT tho' nor glittering turret rise,
 Nor Splendor gild these mild retreats? 
Yet Nature here, in modest guise,
 Displays her unambitious sweets:

Along each gentle swelling lawn
 She strays, with rustic garlands crown'd;
 And wakes the flowers at early dawn,
 To fling their bosom'd fragrance round. 

Here teach thy votary, blameless guide,
 To trace thy step serene and free;
 To shun the toilsome heights of Pride,
 Thro' these calm scenes to follow thee. 

His silent walk do thou adorn,
 O'er these green slopes, from tumult far;
 Whether he greet the blushing morn,
 Or welcome up you evening star:

Intent, while thro' these tufted bowers
 Thy generous whispers charm his ear,
 To hail from heaven thy kindred powers,
 And meet fair Peace and Freedom here. 

Yet prompt to stay his country's fall,
 The stormy city's war he'll join,
 When thou, and Truth, and Freedom call:
 For Freedom's voice, and Truth's, are thine.