While transport glowed in each enamoured breast,
Each faithful shepherd told his tender pain,
And sung of sylvan sports in artless strain;
Soft as the happy swain’s enchanting lay
That pipes among ‘The Shades of Endermay:’
Now, sad reverse! Oppression’s iron hand
Enslaves her natives, and despoils her land;
In lawless rapine bred, a sanguine train,
With midnight ravage, scour th’ uncultured plain.
Westward of these, beyond the Isthmus, lies