With flocks of lambkins feeding round.
What pure refreshment does it give,
To leave awhile life’s bustling stage;
And here to please and soothe the soul
As calm as in a hermitage.
But why on such a scene as this
Bestow, as if in mockery vain,
The name—allied to blood and war—
Of th’ ancient and piratic Dane?
Perhaps ’tis well! as thought returns,