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When any mournful tune you hear,
That dies in ev'ry note,

As if it sighed for each man's care,

For being so remote:

Then think, How often love we've made

To you! while all those tunes were played. With a fa, la, la, la, la!

Let wind and weather do their worst;
Be you, to us but kind!

Let Frenchmen vapour! Dutchmen curse!
No sorrows we shall find!

'Tis then, no matter how things go! Nor who's our friend! [n]or who 's our foe! With a fa, la, la, la, la!

Thus, having told you all our loves,
And likewise all our fears;

In hopes this Declaration moves
Some pity to our tears,

Let's hear of no inconstancy!

We have too much of that at sea!
With a fa, la, la, la, la!


How sacred and how innocent
A Country Life appears!
How free from tumult, discontent ;
From flattery, or fears!

This was the first and happiest life,
When Man enjoyed himself;
Till pride exchangèd peace for strife,
And happiness for pelf!

'Twas here, the Poets were inspired; Here, taught the multitude!

The brave, they here with honour fired; And civilized the rude!

That Golden Age did entertain
No Passion but of Love;

The thoughts of ruling, and of gain,
Did ne'er their fancies move!

None then did envy neighbour's wealth,
Nor plot to wrong his bed:

Happy in friendship and in health,
On roots, not beasts, they fed.

They knew no Law, nor Physic then;
Nature was all their wit!

And if there yet remain to men
Content; sure, this is it!

What blessings doth this World afford
To tempt, or bribe, desire!
Her courtship is all fire and sword;
Who would not then retire!

Then, welcome, dearest Solitude!
My great felicity!

Though some are pleased to call thee 'rude,'
Thou art not so; but we!

Them that do covet only rest,
A cottage will suffice!

It is not brave to be possest
Of earth; but to despise!

Opinion is the rate of things;
From hence our peace doth flow.

I have a better fate than Kings;
Because I think it so !

When all the stormy World doth roar;
How unconcerned am I!

I cannot fear to tumble lower,

Who never could be high.

Secure in these unenvied walls,
I think not on the State!
And pity no man's case, that falls
From his ambition's height!

Silence and Innocence are safe!
A heart that 's noble true,
At all these little arts can laugh,
That do the World subdue.

While others revel it in State;
Here, I'll contented sit,
And think I have as good a fate
As Wealth and Pomp admit!

Let some in courtship take delight, And to th' Exchange resort; Then revel out a winter's night, Not making love, but sport!

These never know a noble flame!
'Tis lust! scorn! or design!
While Vanity plays all their game;
Let Peace and Honour, mine!

When the inviting Spring appears, To Hyde Park let them go; And, hasting hence, be full of fears To lose Spring Garden's show.

Let others, nobler, seek to gain
In knowledge, happy fate:
And others busy them in vain
To study ways of State.

But I, resolvèd from within,
Confirmed from without,

In privacy intend to spin

My future minutes out!

And from this Hermitage of mine,
I banish all wild toys!
And nothing, that is not divine,
Shall dare to tempt my joys!

There are, below, but two things good;
Friendship and Honesty!

And only those, of all, I would
Ask for felicity.

In this retired and humble seat,

Free from both war and strife, I am not forced to make retreat; But choose to spend my life!

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