Go--thou art all unfit to share br The pleasures of this place br With such as its old tenants are, br Creatures of gentler race. br The squirrel here his hoard provides, br Aware of wintry storms, br And woodpeckers explore the sides br Of rugged oaks for worms. br The sheep here smooths the knotted thorn br With frictions of her fleece; br And here I wander eve and morn, br Like her, a friend to peace. br Ah!—I could pity thee exiled br From this secure retreat— br I would not lose it to be styled br The happiest of the great. br But thou canst taste no calm delight; br Thy pleasure is to show br Thy magnanimity in fight, br Thy prowess—therefore, go— br I care not whether east or north, br So I no more may find thee; br The angry muse thus sings thee forth, br And claps the gate behind thee.