Page:The Village - Crabbe (1783).djvu/10

 I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms, For him that gazes or for him that farms; But when amid such pleasing scenes I trace The poor laborious natives of the place, And see the mid-day sun, with fervid ray, On their bare heads and dewy temples play; While some, with feebler hands and fainter hearts, Deplore their fortune, yet sustain their parts, Then shall I dare these real ills to hide, In tinsel trappings of poetic pride?

No, cast by Fortune on a frowning coast, Which can no groves nor happy vallies boast; Where other cares than those the Muse relates. And other shepherds dwell with other mates; By such examples taught, I paint the cot, As truth will paint it, and as bards will not: Nor