my dear children, to this lonely place,
Where Gray’s cool, stupefying spring doth trace.
3Trust me, I think I of this fount partake;
4I am so dull and such sad
5Nor can the
elixir make my spirit
gross extractions doth my thoughts annoy:
fancies 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
12Methinks I play at football with the stars.
Contemning all these garish, empty
14My thoughts are fixed on true celestial joys.
exhilarate 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.
Astraea, with her sacred charms
20Hath thrown you in mild Mercy’s downy arms,
O’erlook’d by Providence, allured by Love
22To those immortal
23Then when each
element its part shall claim,
24May you all live in glory and in fame.