[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
Sung by Sir William, p. 35.
HID from himself, now by the dawn
He starts as fresh as roses blawn,
And ranges o’er the heights and lawn,
After his bleeting flocks.
Heathful, and innocently gay
He chants, and whistles out the day;
Untaught to smile, and then betray,
Like courtly weathercocks.
Life happy from ambition free,
Envy and vile hypocrisie,
Where truth and love with joys agree,
Unsullied with a crime:
Unmov’d with what disturbs the great,
In proping of their pride and state;
He lives, and unafraid of fate,
Contented spends his time.