Here, while the town in damps and darkness lies,
They breathe in sunshine, and see azure skies;
Each walk, with robes of various dyes bespread,
Seems from afar a moving tulip-bed,
Where rich biscades and glossy damasks glow,
And chints, the rival of the show’ry bow.
* * * * *
Their midnight pranks the sprightly fairies play’d
On every hill, and danced in every shade.
But, foes to sunshine, most they took delight