And still the leafy trees;
No sound in air
Was heard afloat,
Save Philomel's
Sweet warbling note.

My thoughts were on the wing,
And back my fancy fled
To where contentment dwelt
In the neat humble shed;
To shining courts
From thence it ran,
Where restless pride
Oppresses man.

In fame some search for bliss,
Some seek content in gain,
In search of happiness
Some give the slackened rein
To passions fierce,
And down the stream
Through giddy life,
Of pleasures dream.

These all mistake the way,
As many more have done:
The narrow path of bliss
Through God's Eternal Son
Directly tends;
And only he