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Quote of the day
" Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain, Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid, And parting Summer's lingering blooms delay'd; Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please: How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endear'd each scene! How often have I paused on every charm, The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topp'd the neighbouring hill; The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made! How often have I bless'd the coming day, When toil, remitting, lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree! While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old survey'd; And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round; And still, as each repeated pleasure tired, Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired- The dancing pair that simply sought renown, By holding out to tire each other down; The swain mistrustless of his smutted face, While secret laughter titter'd round the place; The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love; The matron's glance, that would those looks reprove. These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like these, With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please; These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed; These were thy charms-but all these charms are fled. ... Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made: But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied. [fr. The Deserted Village]"
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