By sighs unruffled, or unstain'd by tears;
Since vice the world subdued and waters drown'd,
Auburn and Eden can no more be found."

And yet the poet at once proceeds to describe his village in much the
same tone, and with much of the same detail as Goldsmith had done:--

"Behold the Cot! where thrives th' industrious swain,
Source of his pride, his pleasure, and his gain,
Screen'd from the winter's-wind, the sun's last ray
Smiles on the window and prolongs the day;
Projecting thatch the woodbine's branches stop,
And turn their blossoms to the casement's top;
All need requires is in that cot contain'd,
And much that taste untaught and unrestrain'd
Surveys delighted: there she loves to trace,
In one gay picture, all the royal race;
Around the walls are heroes, lovers, kings;
The print that shows them and the verse that sings."

Then follow, as in _The Deserted Village_, the coloured prints, and
ballads, and even _The Twelve Good Rules_, that decorate the walls: the
humble library that fills the deal shelf "beside the cuckoo clock"; the
few devotional works, including the illustrated Bible, bought in parts
with the weekly sixpence; the choice notes by learned editors that raise
more doubts than they close. "Rather," exclaims Crabbe:

"Oh! rather give me commentators plain
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,