The Curfen tolls the Knall of parting Day,
The lowing Herd, wind slowly o'er the Lea,
The Plowman how to to Darkness & to
homeward plods his
And leaves the World
Save where the Beetle wheels his droning Flight,
Or do that from yonder ivy-mantled Tower.
Finkleings lull the distant "Folds,
Ulms, that Yentree's, Shade,
a. mouts'ring Sheap,
Or busy Kuswife ply
No children, rusunto Lisp their live's Return,
Nor, climb his Knees the envied Kiss to share.
oft did the Harvest to their Sickle giets,
Their Furrow oft the stubborn Glebe has broke :
How jocurd did they drive their Team a-fiets,
How bowed the Woods beneath their sturdy Stroke!
Let not Ambition mock their useful Toit,
Their homel. Soys & Destiny obscure
Nor Grand bor hear, with
The short & simple Annaly of the Poor.
The struggling Pangs
To quench the Blushes of ingenuous Thane,
or heap the Shrine of Luxury. &e Pride
With Incense, kindled the Musés Flame.
gs of conscious Fouth to