;; Jff
,6 RURAL SPORTS.
With secret joy (he sees her little race
Hang on her breast, and her small cottage grace;
The fleecy ball their little fingers cull,
Or Horn the spindle draw the lengthningwool:Thus flow her hours with constant peace of mind,Till age the latest thread of life unwind.
Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife,The kind rewarders of industrious life;
Ye shady woods, where once I us’d to rove;
Alike indulgent to the muse and love;
Ye murm’ring streams that in Maeanders roll,The sweet composers of the pensive foul,
Farewel.-the city calls me from yourbow’rs:
Farewel amusing thoughts and peaceful hours.