Page:Home; or, The unlost paradise (IA homeorunlostpara00palm).pdf/26

 But one of thousands that New England boasts— The jewels of her crown—her pride and joy. Nor rude, nor splendid, it hath yet a charm, A quiet loveliness. Come, ye who dream That Peace, an exile, dwells with men no more; Ye who in vain pursue her through the maze Where witching pleasure lures, and oft deceived As oft the eager chase again renew; Ye who would seek her but in princely halls, With fretted ceiling arched and draperies hung In gorgeous richness, where luxurious couch And orient ottoman invite repose, With harp, or lute, by snowy fingers touched, That soothes and lulls in soft voluptuous strain— Come hither, mark, and muse and grow more wise.

Lo, where the hand of taste hath graced the scene! The charms of nature by judicious skill Are heightened here; their absence there supplied By quaint device. The grassy plat that spreads In neat simplicity before the door,