V.
"Thou seest how fair a scene is here; It seems as if 'twere planned above, And fashioned from some happier sphere, To be the home of peace and love. Yet man, too fond of strife1, to dwell In meek2 contentment's calm repose3, Will turn an Eden to a hell, And triumph in his brother's woes4! And passion's lewd5 and lawless host, Delight to rave6 and revel7 most Where generous Nature stamps and strews8 Her fairest forms, and brightest hues9: And Discord10 here has lit her brand, And Hatred11 nursed her savage12 brood, And stern Revenge, with crimson13 hand,
Has written his foul14 deeds in blood. But those who loved and suffered then, Have given place to other men: Of all who live, to me alone The story, of their fate is known; Give heed15, and I will tell it thee, Tho' mournful must the story be.