To Contemplation's Sober Eye. / Such Is

Ah, Happy Hills! Ah, Pleasing Shade! Ah, Fields Beloved In Vain! Where Once My Careless Childhood Stray'd, A Stranger Yet To Pain! I Feel The Gales That From Ye Blow A Momentary Bliss Bestow.

Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise.

And Truth Severe, By Fairy Fiction Drest.

Hell Is Full Of Good Intentions.

They Hear A Voice In Every Wind, And Snatch A Fearful Joy.