No! let me inspiration seek
Where villagers, in cheerful clump,
With health bedecking ev'ry cheek,
Are clustering round the local pump.
That pump which, e'en as memory's tear
Gives freshness to a heart that's saddish,
By pouring out its liquid clear,
Revives once more the drooping radish.
Or shall I sing that nice spring-van,
By pleasure-parties often sought,