AT first, the favour’d parents of mankind
Delighted rov’d thro’ EDEN’S fragrant bow’rs;
Where spring and autumn, in sweet union join’d,
Form’d all the year, and led the smiling hours.
The trees at once their fruit and blossoms show’d;
Pour’d forth their treasures, and still promis’d more:
The happy owners cropp’d the plenteous load,
Nor fear’d that waste would dissipate their store.
How long this happy state, for ever gone,
Was man’s blest lot, it boots not now to say;
Then ages all unnoticed might have flown:
Swift flies the hours, when sorrow keeps away.
Unlike those heavy moments oft we fell,
With anguish loaded, disappointment, pain;
Ah me! how slow the circling seasons wheel,
That bring nor hope, nor pleasure in their train.
Too soon, alas! the blissful moments fled,
When with averted looks, reluctant, slow,
By heaven’s fell minister of vengeance led,
They enter’d on a world of pain and woe.
All wild and comfortless the prospect lay;
Each region unexplor’d, and all unknown,
Weary they wandered through the pathless way,
While conscious guilt still gave the heart-felt groan.
Too many an hapless son has felt their pain,
When, banish’d from the dear domestic home,
He casts behind a wishful look in vain,
Doom’d thro’ an hard, unfeeling world to roam.
What pain to leave each favourite haunt so dear,
Where oft in musings sweet he wont to rove!
To leave the favourite tree he lov’d to rear,
That spread so fair the glory of the grove!
The fertile field his care unceasing fed,
Where bounteous CERES wav’d her golden store;
The flowery lawn his stately herds o’erspread;
The hill his fleecy wanderers whiten’d o’er;
Yet stronger ties the man of feeling bind:
Here friendship brighten’d oft the tedious hour;
And social mirth, with social kindness join’d,
Would all their various charms united pour.
‘Twas here the lovely partner of his heart
A double radiance threw o’er every scene:
‘Twas here the smile of love, devoid of art,
Heighten’d each joy, and soften’d every pain.
‘Twas here the tender fruit of chaste delight
First saw the day, and breath’d the vital air:
‘Twas here their opening graces charm’d the sight,
And grew, and bloom’d beneath a parent’s care.
Now lost, for ever lost, each kindred scene;
Whose dear ideas, woven through the heart,
Fortune may try to sever, but in vain:
Tho’ every nerve be strain’d, they cannot part.
Ev’n tho’ oblivion brought her languid aid,
And o’er the past a transient darkness threw;
Too faithful memory still pierc’d the shade,
And brought each dear, departed joy to view.
When smiling plenty bless’d his cheerful dome,
Oft did he urge the weary wanderer’s stay;
Oft bid the houseless stranger find a home,
And strew with roses sorrow’s thorny way.
Ah! must he now the needful aid require,
His scanty fortunes can no more bestow?
Must he from life’s gay eminence retire,
And mingle with the humble crowd below?
Ye, to his blood by kindred bands conjoin’d,
With tenderest care your needful aid impart;
Think, what nice feelings swell the high-born mind;
Prevent his wish, but do not wound his heart.
(Elizabeth Scot)
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