William Lisle Bowles

On Resigning a Scholarship of Trinity College, Oxford, and Retiring to a Country Curacy

    Farewell! a long farewell! O Poverty,
      Affection's fondest dream how hast thou reft!
      But though, on thy stern brow no trace is left
    Of youthful joys, that on the cold heart die,
    With thee a sad companionship I seek,
      Content, if poor;--for patient wretchedness,
      Tearful, but uncomplaining of distress,
    Who turns to the rude storm her faded cheek;
      And Piety, who never told her wrong;
      And calm Content, whose griefs no more rebel;
    And Genius, warbling sweet, his saddest song,
      When evening listens to some village knell,--
    Long banished from the world's insulting throng;--
      With thee, and thy unfriended children dwell.