CANTO II.
I. Adieu! ye pleasures of the sylvan scene,
Where peace, and calm contentment dwell serene:
To me, in vain, on earth’s prolific soil
With summer crowned, th’ Elysian vallies smile;
To me those happier scenes no joy impart,
But tantalize with hope my aching heart:
Ye tempests! o’er my head congenial roll