’Tis Peace who bids You here be bless’d!
Here is Silence and a Grove
That the pensive pleasures love:
Here are Meads and limpid Springs,
Where sportive Fancy strays and sings.
In living Rock the mossy Cave,
Silver Avon’s sleeping Wave, 10
Solitude and Conscience clear,
And Quiet and the Muse, are here.
Then sit ye down, and know my Rest: