And with celestial tears augments the waves. Oft in her glass the musing shepherd spies The headlong mountains and the downward skies, 210 The watery landscape of the pendent woods, And absent trees that tremble in the floods; In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen, And floating forests paint the waves with green, Through the fair scene roll slow the lingering streams, Then foaming pour along, and rush into the Thames. Thou, too, great Father of the British floods! With joyful pride survey'st our lofty woods; Where towering oaks their growing honours rear, And future navies on thy shores appear. 220 Not Neptune's self from all her streams receives A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives. No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear, No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear. Nor Po so swells the fabling poet's lays, While led along the skies his current strays, As thine, which visits Windsor's famed abodes, To grace the mansion of our earthly gods: Nor all his stars above a lustre show, Like the bright beauties on thy banks below; 230 Where Jove, subdued by mortal passion still, Might change Olympus for a nobler hill. Happy the man whom this bright court approves, His sovereign favours, and his country loves: Happy next him who to these shades retires, Whom Nature charms, and whom the Muse inspires: Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet please, Successive study, exercise, and ease. He gathers health from herbs the forest yields, And of their fragrant physic spoils the fields: 240 With chemic art exalts the mineral powers, And draws the aromatic souls of flowers: Now marks the course of rolling orbs on high; O'er figured worlds now travels with his eye; Of ancient writ unlocks the learnèd store, Consults the dead, and lives past ages o'er: Or wandering thoughtful in the silent wood, Attends the duties of the wise and good, To observe a mean, be to himself a friend, To follow nature, and regard his end; 250 Or looks on Heaven with more than mortal eyes, Bids his free soul expatiate in the skies, Amid her kindred stars familiar roam, Survey the region, and confess her home! Such was the life great Scipio once admired, Thus Atticus, and Trumbull[46] thus retired.