Here, to the murmurs of the flowing stream,
I sit, and muse, and many an airy dream
Beguiles the time, while, all unseen, I stray
Through the bright realms of Fancy’s fairy way.
Ah! why should Ignorance my mind control?
Why must I feel that I have lack of soul?
Why, when I fain would climb the heights of fame,
Must Envy strive to blast my humble name?
Yet, let me still with patient heart submit,
And bear my load, nor murmur at my fate;
Still let me strive to improve my lowly lot,
And be content, though in a humble cot.
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