Page:The Leadbeater Papers (1862) Vol 1.djvu/40
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26
THE ANNALS OF BALITORE.
[1766.
The moon no careful watch-dogs bay,
No breezes shake the bending spray,
No flute awakes the slumbering grove,
Where not a leaf is heard to move;
Scarce heard the distant dying sound,
Such solemn silence reigns around.
Here ends our walk—and here, my friend,
The gay description I shall end;
These lines present no fancied view,
'Twas truth the faithful landscape drew.
Here from the busy world retired,
The fragrant air I first inspired,
And here may all my days be spent,
With innocence and sweet content;
With contemplation ever calm,
And friendship, life's most precious balm!
But where are all these blessings found,
Unless by thee, Religion, crowned?
O, be thou first to gain my breast,
And be it worthy of the guest!
Content and innocence appear,
Celestial maid, when thou art here;
Thou raisest Contemplation's eye,
To see the blest abodes on high:
Our friendships, formed by thee, endure
'Tis thou who can'st our bliss secure:
Thou bid'st our passions all subside;
Be thou my guardian and my guide;
Then in this sweet sequestered shade,
More lovely by thy presence made,
Remote from envy, care, and strife,
Calm shall I pass my quiet life,
Taste purer joys when these are o'er,
And lay my bones in Ballitore!
No breezes shake the bending spray,
No flute awakes the slumbering grove,
Where not a leaf is heard to move;
Scarce heard the distant dying sound,
Such solemn silence reigns around.
Here ends our walk—and here, my friend,
The gay description I shall end;
These lines present no fancied view,
'Twas truth the faithful landscape drew.
Here from the busy world retired,
The fragrant air I first inspired,
And here may all my days be spent,
With innocence and sweet content;
With contemplation ever calm,
And friendship, life's most precious balm!
But where are all these blessings found,
Unless by thee, Religion, crowned?
O, be thou first to gain my breast,
And be it worthy of the guest!
Content and innocence appear,
Celestial maid, when thou art here;
Thou raisest Contemplation's eye,
To see the blest abodes on high:
Our friendships, formed by thee, endure
'Tis thou who can'st our bliss secure:
Thou bid'st our passions all subside;
Be thou my guardian and my guide;
Then in this sweet sequestered shade,
More lovely by thy presence made,
Remote from envy, care, and strife,
Calm shall I pass my quiet life,
Taste purer joys when these are o'er,
And lay my bones in Ballitore!