He may be envied who with tranquil breast
Can wander in the wild and woodland scene,
When summer's glowing hands have newly dressed
The shadowy forests and the copses green;
Who unpursued by care can pa** his hours
Where briony and woodbine fringe the trees,
On thymy banks reposing, while the bees
Murmur "their fairy tunes in praise of flowers";
Or on the rock with ivy clad and fern
That overhangs the osier-whispering bed
Of some clear current, bids his wishes turn
From this bad world; and by calm reason led,
Knows in refined retirement to possess,
My friendship hallowed, rural happiness!