Scatter Plenty O'er A Smiling Land.

Scatter Plenty O'er A Smiling Land.

Low On His Funeral Couch He Lies!

Each In His Narrow Cell Forever Laid, The Rude Forefathers Of The Hamlet Sleep.

Along The Cool Sequestered Vale Of Life, They Kept The Noiseless Tenour Of Their Way.

Ah, Happy Hills! Ah, Pleasing Shade! Ah, Fields Beloved In Vain! Where Once My Careless Childhood Stray'd, A Stranger Yet To Pain! I Feel The Gales That From Ye Blow A Momentary Bliss Bestow.