Had fix'd the moral sense, when, as a bow
For a long active season tightly strain'd
Relaxes, tumult and contention o'er,
She sunk into indulgence, glad to yield
To mildness, nature, and herself again.
Youth, e'en when wise and good, requires a change,
Delights in novelty, and hears of nought
Which suddenly it asks not to behold;
And Lora's children oft assail'd her ear
To let them journey to some rumour'd scene,