Lest Indigence tasted of Bliss,
That sternly decreed they've no right
To innocent pleasure like this.
19
Tho' the Youth of to-day must deplore—
The rough mounds that now sadden the scene,
The vain stretch of Misanthropy's Power,
The Enclosure of Honington Green.
Yet when not a green turf is left free,
When not one odd nook is left wild,