I love to mark the flow'ret's eye,
To rest where pebbles form my bed,
Where shapes and colours scatter'd lie
In varying millions round my head.
The soul rejoices when alone,
And feels her glorious empire free;
Sees GOD in every shining stone,
And revels in variety.

Ah me! perhaps within my sight,
Deep in the smiling dales below,
Gigantic talents, Heav'n's pure light,
And all the rays of genius glow
In some lone soul, whom no one sees
With _power_ and _will_ to say "Arise,"
Or chase away the slow disease,
And Want's foul picture from his eyes.

A worthier man by far than I,
With more of industry and fire,
Shall see fair Virtue's meed pass by,
Without one spark of fame expire!
Bleed not my heart, it will be so.
The throb of care was thine full long;
Rise, like the Psalmist from his woe,
And pour abroad the joyful song.

Sweet Health, I seek thee! hither bring
Thy balm that softens human ills;
Come, on the long drawn clouds that fling