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E may be envied, who with tranquil breast Can wander in the wild and woodland scene, When Summer's glowing hands have newly drest The shadowy forests, and the copses green; Who, unpursued by care, can pass 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, bid his wishes turn From this bad world; and by calm reason led, Knows, in refined retirement, to possess By friendship hallow'd—rural happiness!