1Come,

my dear children1

, to this lonely place,

2

Where Gray’s cool, stupefying spring doth trace.2

3Trust me, I think I of this fount partake;

4I am so dull and such sad

fancies3

make.

5Nor can the

quintessence4

of

Bacchus’s5

liquor,

6Nor the

elixir6

make my spirit

quicker7

.

7Those

gross8

extractions doth my thoughts annoy:

8’Tis fasting;

fancies9

are my soul’s sole joy.

9When my freed soul flies to her place of birth,

10Then am I brave, my foot then spurns this earth.

11My mind being raised above these worldly

jars10

,

12Methinks I play at football with the stars.

13

Contemning11

all these garish, empty

toys12

,

14My thoughts are fixed on true celestial joys.

15Come then,

exhilarate13

my drooping spirit:

16So may you those eternal joys inherit;

17So may there ever, in your happy breast,

18Those blesséd gems, joy and peace, still rest.

19Then when

Astraea14

, with her sacred charms

20Hath thrown you in mild Mercy’s downy arms,

21

O’erlook’d15

by Providence, allured by Love

22To those immortal

mansions above16

:

23Then when each

element its part shall claim17

,

24May you all live in glory and in fame.