320
Tixall Poetry.
Retirement.
Whatever sins by turns have sway'd me,
Ambition never reach'd my heart;
Its lewd pretences ne'er betray'd me,
In publick ills to act a part.
Ambition never reach'd my heart;
Its lewd pretences ne'er betray'd me,
In publick ills to act a part.
Let others, fame or wealth pursuing,
Despise a mean but safe retreat;
He ne'er contrive my owne undoing,
Nor stoop so low as to be great.
Despise a mean but safe retreat;
He ne'er contrive my owne undoing,
Nor stoop so low as to be great.
The faithless court, the pensive 'change,
What solid pleasures can they give?
Oh let me in the country range,
'Tis there we breathe, 'tis there we live.
What solid pleasures can they give?
Oh let me in the country range,
'Tis there we breathe, 'tis there we live.
