BENEATH yon chain of barren rocks,
Where niggard Nature ne'er unlocks
One hoard of chearful green;
The brown yew forms a gloomy shade,
The blasted oak erects its head,
A dreary wasteful scene.
O haste, O fly th' accursed cell,
Where Envy's fiendly faction dwell!
Else shall her glance, malignant cast,
The fairest shoots of Merit blast:
He risks his ease, who ventures nigh
The baleful witchcraft of her eye.