Page:Harold the Dauntless - Scott (1817).djvu/14

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HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS.
Plays, poems; novels, never read but once—But not of such the tale fair Edgeworth wrote,That bears thy name, and is thine antidote;And not of such the strain my Thomson sung,Delicious dreams inspiring by his note,What time to Indolence his harp he strung;Oh! might my lay be rank'd that happier list among!
Each hath his refuge, whom thy cares assail.For me, I love my study-fire to trim,And con right vacantly some idle tale,Displaying on the couch each listless limb,Till on the drowsy page the lights grow dim,
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