From fragrant herbage deck’d with pearly dews,
And flowerets of a thousand different hues,
By wafting gales the mingling odours fly,
And round our heads in whispering breezes sigh-
Whole nature seems to heighten and improve
The holier hours of innocence and love.
“Nor close the blissful scene, exhausted muse,
The latest blissful scene that thou shalt choose;
Satiate with life, what joys for me remain,
Save one dear wish, to balance every pain,—