Oh, happy shades--to me unblest! <br />Friendly to peace, but not to me! <br />How ill the scene that offers rest, <br />And heart that cannot rest, agree! <br /> <br />This glassy stream, that spreading pine, <br />Those alders, quivering to the breeze, <br />Might soothe a soul less hurt than mine, <br />And please, if any thing could please. <br /> <br />But fix'd unalterable Care <br />Foregoes not what she feels within, <br />Shows the same sadness everywhere, <br />And slights the season and the scene. <br /> <br />For all that pleased in wood or lawn, <br />While Peace possess’d these silent bowers, <br />Her animating smile withdrawn, <br />Has lost its beauties and its powers. <br /> <br />The saint or moralist should tread <br />This moss-grown alley musing, slow; <br />They seek like me the secret shade, <br />But not like me to nourish woe! <br /> <br />Me fruitful scenes and prospects waste <br />Alike admonish not to roam; <br />These tell me of enjoyments past, <br />And those of sorrows yet to come.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shrubbery-written-in-a-time-of-affliction-2/
