Some hidden Spirit shall enquire thy Fate,
25Haply some hoary-headed Swain may say,
“Oft have we seen him at the Peep of Dawn
“Brushing with hasty Steps the Dews away,
“To meet the Sun upon the upland Lawn,
26“There at the Foot of yonder nodding Beech,
“That wreathes its old fantastic Roots so high,
“His listless Length at Noontide wou’d he stretch,
“And pore upon the Brook that babbles by.
27“Hard by yon Wood, now frowning as in Scorn,