The shifting scenes and labyrinths of the way;
With fond reverted look his thoughts retrace,
Where flowers their sweets, and wild-birds gave their song,
And dwell, long dwell! on many a favourite space,
Where prodigal of time he loiter’d long;
Lovers and friends in bright perspective rise,
Companions of his morn, on yon blue hill;
Down that blank plain he drops a look, and sighs,
Whence seem their parting words to reach him still;
Here his pain’d eyes unkindly districts mark,