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If bleak and barren Scotia's hills arise ;
Here peaceful are ihe valęs, and pure the skies, And freedom fires the soul, and sparkles in the eyes.
VII. Then grieve not, thou to whom the indulgent Myse Vouchlafes a portion of celsflial fire ; Nor blame the partial Fates, if they refuse Th' imperial banquet, and the rich'attire. Know thine own worth and reverence the lyre. Wilt thou debale the heart which God refin'd; No; let the heaven-taught soul, to heaven aspire
To fancy, freedom, harmony, relign'd; Ambition's groveling crew for ever left behind.
Canst thou forego the pure etherial foul
Where fear, diftruit, malevolence, abide,
IX. O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her vot’ry yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all thai echoes to the fong of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bofom fields,
And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven!
x. These charms fhall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy impart.