RURAL RAPTURES
... 'Tis sweet at dewy eve to rove When softly sighs the western breeze, And wandering 'mid the star-lit grove To take a pinch of snuff and sneeze. 'Tis sweet to see in daisied field The flocks and herds their pleasure take; But sweeter are the joys they yield In tender chop and juicy steak. 'Tis sweet to hear the murmurous sound That from the vocal woods doth rise, To mark the pigeons wheeling ...