Classic Poem

Here wrapt in smoke and noise I stray;
Ah! bear me hence, some muse, away,
To brighter skies and purer air,
To scenes remote from noise and care.
Ah, country life! which we in vain
Oft wish for here, who cannot gain,
How happy they of thee possest,
Did they but know how they were blest!
Oh, country life! by poets sung,
And fav'rite theme of sages tongue,
By all alike prais'd and approv'd,
Most by the wise and virtuous lov'd!
Unhappy man, to town confin'd,
With all the country in his mind!
Does he look up? a cloudy sky,
With gloomy aspect meets his eye;
Or chance he may look down,—his nose
Unsav'ry odours discompose.
His ears a thousand cries molest,
Disturb his head, and break his rest,
Nor walks he, without fear, the streets,
Of danger, from each cart he meets;
Or, of the danger while afraid,
Left thieves his pockets should invade.

How very diff'rent 'tis to view
The rural sky of azure blue,
And from the gently-blowing gale
The fragrance of the fields inhale;
Beneath the shade in slumber drown'd
To taste repose secure and sound;
Without a fear, at ease to roam,
And every-where to be at home;
And, while to our own minds we live
To taste what blessings life can give.