Page:The dispensary - a poem in six canto's (sic) (IA b30356775).pdf/37



OON as the Ev'ning veil'd the Mountains Heads, And Winds lay hush'd in subterranean Beds; Whilst sick'ning Flow'rs drink up the Silver Dew, And Beaus, for some Assembly, dress anew; The City Saints to Pray'rs and Play-house haste; The Rich to Dinner, and the Poor to Rest: Officious Phantom then prepar'd with Care To slide on tender Pinions through the Air. Oft he attempts the Summit of a Rock, And oft the Hollow of some blasted Oak; At length approaching where bleak Envy lay, The hissing of her Snakes proclaim'd the way.

Beneath the gloomy Covert of an Yew, That taints the Grass with sickly Sweats of Dew; No verdant Beauty entertains the Sight, But baneful Hemlock, and cold Aconite;