That one so good should have a pressing friend? Grieve not, my heart! to find a favourite guest } Thy pride and boast--ye selfish sorrows, rest; } She will be kind, and I again be blest.” } While gentler passions thus his bosom sway’d, He reach’d the mansion, and he saw the maid; “My Laura!”--“My Orlando!--this is kind; In truth I came persuaded, not inclined. Our friends’ amusement let us now pursue, 330 And I to-morrow will return with you.” Like man entranced, the happy lover stood-- “As Laura wills, for she is kind and good; Ever the truest, gentlest, fairest, best-- As Laura wills, I see her and am blest.” Home went the lovers through that busy place, By Loddon-Hall, the country’s pride and grace; By the rich meadows where the oxen fed, Through the green vale that form’d the river’s bed; And by unnumber’d cottages and farms, 340 That have for musing minds unnumber’d charms, And how affected by the view of these Was then Orlando--did they pain or please? Nor pain nor pleasure could they yield--and why? } The mind was fill’d, was happy, and the eye } Roved o’er the fleeting views, that but appear’d to die. } Alone Orlando on the morrow paced The well-known road; the [gipsy]-tent he traced; The dam high-raised, the reedy dikes between, The scatter’d hovels on the barren green, 350 The burning sand, the fields of thin-set rye, Mock’d by the useless Flora, blooming by; And last the heath with all its various bloom, And the close lanes that led the trav’ller home. Then could these scenes the former joys renew? Or was there now dejection in the view?-- Nor one or other would they yield--and why? } The mind was absent, and the vacant eye } Wander’d o’er viewless scenes, that but appear’d to die. }