And even those ills, that round his mansion rise,

Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies:

18

Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms,

And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms;

And as a child, when scaring sounds molest,

Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast—

breast—

So the loud torrent and the whirlwind’s roar

But bind him to his native mountains more.

Such are the charms to barren states assign’d—

assign’d—

Their wants but few, their wishes all confin’d;

Yet let them only share the praises due,

If few their wants, their pleasures are but few;

For every want that stimulates the breast

Becomes a source of pleasure when redress’d.

Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies,

That first excites desire, and then supplies;

Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy,

 Prev. P 25/189 next