The Retreat. Poem by Daniel Baker

Pardon me Friend, that I so soon
Forsake this great tumultuous Town.
And on the sudden hasten down;

That I Preferment court no more,
But all my Hopes and Cares give o'er
While I'm Young, and while I'm Poor.

My self no longer I'll deprive
Of those kind Minutes Heav'n does give.
No Man makes haste enough to live.

Let them stay longer who desire
Above their Father's Wealth t'aspire,
And raise their Names and Fortunes higher.

That are content to cringe and bow,
To flatter, bribe, and wait; for so
Preferment must be bought, you know.

Give me free Nature's solid Goods
Open Fields, and secret Woods,
Healthful Hills, and crystal Floods.

A small, but sprucely furnish'd House,
A Garden for Delight and Use,
A learned Friend, and gentle Muse.

Nights full of Sleep, Days void of Strife,
And to compleat this heav'nly Life,
An humble, cheerful, country Wife.

Thus, oh! thus let me obscurely lie!
Thus let my wel--spent Hours slide by!
Thus let me live! thus let me die!