我生在凯尼姆的命运出名的现场附近，我拿着我那悲哀的芦苇，在树林里巡视，扬起我的歌，叫岩石回响起帝国和爱情的野蛮力量。紧靠你的荒野中心，在那里，茂盛的橡树点缀着一座哥特式的教堂，肯德里亚的艺术是一个兄弟的青春;在那里，大自然催促着她最温柔的恳求，但都无济于事。这个野心勃勃的少女，在他出生的时候，在他幼年的时候，是那么的温柔，她可以尽自己的一切心思;然后，怀着孜孜不倦的喜爱，把花儿种下，装饰王子的摇篮。但很快，胸中令人愉悦的平静就消失了;爱点燃了她的胸膛;闷热的激情升起;一个被宠爱的情人追求麦西亚的王位，却以情敌的眼光审视她的狗舍。幸运女神是多么仁慈啊! ah, how just were Fate! Would Fate or Fortune Mercia's heir remove! How sweet to revel on the couch of state! To crown at once her lover and her love! See, garnish'd for the chase, the fraudful maid To these lone hills direct his devious way; The youth, all prone, the sister-guide obey'd; Ill-fated youth! himself the destined prey! But now, nor shaggy hill, nor pathless plain, Forms the lone refuge of the sylvan game, Since Lyttleton has crown'd the sweet domain With softer pleasures, and with fairer fame. Where the rough bowman urged his headlong steed, Immortal bards, a polish'd race, retire; And where hoarse scream'd the strepent horn, succeed The melting graces of no vulgar lyre. See Thomson, loitering near some limpid well, For Britain's friend the verdant wreath prepare! Or, studious of revolving seasons, tell How peerless Lucia made all seasons fair! See -- from civic garlands fly, And in those groves indulge his tuneful vein! Or from yon summit, with a guardian's eye, Observe how Freedom's hand attires the plain! Here Pope!-ah! never must that towering mind To his loved haunts, or dearer friend return! What art, what friendships! oh, what fame resign'd -In yonder glade I trace his mournful urn. Where is the breast can rage or hate retain, And these glad streams and smiling lawns behold? Where is the breast can hear the woodland strain, And think fair Freedom well exchanged for gold? Through these soft shades delighted let me stray, While o'er my head forgotten suns descend! Through these dear valleys bend my casual way, Till setting life a total shade extend! Here, far from courts, and void of pompous cares, I'll muse how much I owe mine humbler fate, Or shrink to find how much Ambition dares, To shine in anguish, and to grieve in state! Canst thou, O Sun! that spotless throne disclose, Where her bold arm has left no sanguine stain? Where, show me where, the lineal sceptre glows, Pure as the simple crook that rules the plain! Tremendous pomp! where hate, distrust, and fear, In kindred bosoms solve the social tie; There not the parent's smile is half sincere, Nor void of art the consort's melting eye. There, with the friendly wish, the kindly flame, No face is brighten'd, and no bosoms beat; Youth, manhood, age, avow one sordid aim, And even the beardless lip essays deceit. There coward Rumours walk their murderous round; The glance, that more than rural blame instils; Whispers that, tinged with friendship, doubly wound; Pity that injures, and concern that kills. There anger whets, but love can ne'er engage; Caressing brothers part but to revile; There all men smile, and Prudence warns the wise To dread the fatal stroke of all that smile. There all are rivals! sister, son, and sire, With horrid purpose hug destructive arms; There soft-eyed maids in murderous plots conspire, And scorn the gentler mischief of their charms. Let servile minds one endless watch endure; Day, night, nor hour, their anxious guard resign; But lay me, Fate! on flowery banks secure, Though my whole soul be, like my limbs, supine. Yes; may my tongue disdain a vassal's care; My lyre resound no prostituted lay; More warm to merit, more elate to wear The cap of Freedom than the crown of bay. Soothed by the murmurs of my pebbled flood, I wish it not o'er golden sands to flow; Cheer'd by the verdure of my spiral wood, I scorn the quarry, where no shrub can grow. No midnight pangs the shepherd's peace pursue; His tongue, his hand, attempts no secret wound; He sings his Delia, and, if she be true, His love at once, and his ambition's crown'd.