As, by some tyrant’s stem command, A wretch forsakes his native land, In foreign climes condemned to roam, An endless exile from his home; Pensive he treads the destined way; 5 And dreads to go; nor dares to stay; Till on some neighbouring mountain’s brow He stops, and turns his eyes below; There, melting at the well-known view, Drops a last tear, and bids adieu: 10 So I, thus doomed from thee to part, Gay Queen of fancy and of art, Reluctant move, with doubtful mind, Oft stop, and often look behind. Companion of my tender age, 15 Serenely gay, and sweetly sage, How blithsome were we wont to rove By verdant hill, or shady grove, Where fervent bees with humming voice Around the honied oak rejoice, 20 And agèd elms with awful bend In long cathedral walks extend! Lulled by the lapse of gliding floods, Cheered by the warbling of the woods, How blest my days, my thoughts how free, 25 In sweet society with thee! Then all was joyous, all was young, And years unheeded rolled along: But now the pleasing dream is o’er, These scenes must charm me now no more. 30 Lost to the fields, and torn from you,-- Farewell! a long, a last adieu! Me wrangling courts, and stubborn law, To smoke, and crowds, and cities draw: There selfish faction rules the day, 35 And pride and avarice throng the way; Diseases taint the murky air, And midnight conflagrations glare; Loose revelry, and riot bold, In frighted streets their orgies hold; 40 Or, where in silence all is drowned, Fell murder walks his lonely round; No room for peace, no room for you; Adieu, celestial Nymph, adieu! Shakspeare no more, thy sylvan son, 45 Nor all the art of Addison, Pope’s heaven-strung lyre, nor Waller’s ease, Nor Milton’s mighty self, must please: Instead of these a formal band, In furs and coifs, around me stand; 50 With sounds uncouth and accents dry, That grate the soul of harmony, Each pedant sage unlocks his store Of mystic, dark, discordant lore; And points with tottering hand the ways 55 That lead me to the thorny maze. There, in a winding close retreat, Is Justice doomed to fix her seat; There fenced by bulwarks of the law, She keeps the wondering world in awe; 60 And there, from vulgar sight retired, Like eastern queens, is more admired. O let me pierce the secret shade Where dwells the venerable maid! There humbly mark, with reverend awe, 65