Page:Tales of instruction, in verse and prose.pdf/16

(16) Far from the city I reſide,

And a thatch'd cottage all my pride.

True to my heart I ſeldom roam,

Becauſe I find my joys at home:

For foreign viſits then begin,

When the man feels a void within.

But tho' from towns and crouds I fly,

No humouriſt, nor cynic, I.

Amidſt ſequeſter'd ſhades I prize

The friendſhips of the good and wiſe.

Bid and her ſons attend,

will tell thee, I'm her friend;

Tell thee, I'm faithful, conſtant, kind,

And meek and lowly and reſign'd;

Will ſay, there's no diſtinction known

Betwixt her houfhold and my own.

Author. If theſe the friendſhips you purſue,

Your friends, I fear, are very few.

So little company, you ſay,

Yet fond of home from day to day!

How do you ſhun detraction's rod?

I doubt your neighbours think you odd!

Content. I commune with myſelf at night,

And aſk my heart, if all be right:

If, "right," replies my faithful breaſt,

I ſmile and cloſe my eyes to reſt.

Author. You ſeem regardleſs of the town:

Pray, Sir, how ſtand you with the gown?