James Thomson

In one diffusive band,
They drive the troubled flocks, by many a
Compell'd to where the mazy-running
Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt and high,

Let no presuming impious railer tax Creative wisdom, as if aught was
In vain, or not for admirable ends
Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce His works unwise, of which the smallest
Excceeds the narrow vision of her mind

He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems,
Into his freshened soul; her genial
He full enjoys; and not a beauty
And not an opening blossom breathes in vain

Oh
knew he but his happiness, of
The happiest he, who, far from public rage,
Deep in the vale, with a choice few

In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompass'd round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,
Than whom a fiend more fell is nowhere found

Beauty deserves the homage of the muse:
Shall mine, rebellious, the dear theme refuse
No; while my breast respires the vital air,
Wholly I am devoted to the fair

The lovely young Lavinia once had friends;
And fortune smiled deceitful on her birth:
For, in her helpless years deprived of all,
Of every stay, save innocence and Heaven,