Book IV.
THE CHACE.
127
O Happy! if ye knew your happy State,
Ye Rangers of the Fields; whom Nature boon 470
Chears with her Smiles, and ev'ry Element
Conspires to bless. What, if no Heroes frown
From marble Pedestals; nor Raphael's Works,
Nor Titian's lively Tints, adorn our Walls?
Yet these the meanest of us may behold; 475
And at another's Cost, may feast at Will
Our wond'ring Eyes; what can the Owner more?
But vain, alass! is Wealth, not grac'd with Pow'r.
The flow'ry Landskip, and the gilded Dome,
And Vistas op'ning to the wearied Eye, 480
Thro' all his wide Domain; the planted Grove,
The shrubby Wilderness, with its gay Choir
Of warbling Birds, can't lull to soft Repose
Th'ambitious Wretch, whose discontented Soul
Is harrow'd Day and Night; he mourns, he pines,
Ye Rangers of the Fields; whom Nature boon 470
Chears with her Smiles, and ev'ry Element
Conspires to bless. What, if no Heroes frown
From marble Pedestals; nor Raphael's Works,
Nor Titian's lively Tints, adorn our Walls?
Yet these the meanest of us may behold; 475
And at another's Cost, may feast at Will
Our wond'ring Eyes; what can the Owner more?
But vain, alass! is Wealth, not grac'd with Pow'r.
The flow'ry Landskip, and the gilded Dome,
And Vistas op'ning to the wearied Eye, 480
Thro' all his wide Domain; the planted Grove,
The shrubby Wilderness, with its gay Choir
Of warbling Birds, can't lull to soft Repose
Th'ambitious Wretch, whose discontented Soul
Is harrow'd Day and Night; he mourns, he pines,
Until
