How bright each landscape glow’d around!
What sweets could Summer seasons bring,
What beauties Autumn, harvest crown’d!
Not hoary Winter’s dreary form,
Shivering in snowy mantle dress’d,
Could freeze my joys, or raise a storm
To shake the calmness of my breast:
For then my bliss a Brother shar’d,
A Friend his comforts could impart;
If Fortune’s frowns that bliss impair’d,