The mimic wood-nymph propagates the sound.
The sweet-breath’d cows the herbage greedy graze,
The frolic calf his clumsy gambols plays.
The saunt’ring cow-boy slowly creeps along,
Now his clear whistle tunes, and now his rustic song.
These are thy works, O God, and these thy care;
All these, in season due, thy various blessings share.
Blest Power! that me into existence drew,
And spread this fair creation to my view!
Blest Power! that gave me eyes, and ears, and mind,