"Come, dwell with us! true Son of Virtue, come!
" But if, alas! we cannot Thee persuade,
"To lie content beneath our peaceful Dome,
" Ne ever more to quit our quiet Glade;
"Yet when at last thy Toils, but ill apaid,
" Shall dead thy Fire, and damp its Heavenly Spark,
"Thou wilt be glad to seek the rural Shade,
" There to indulge the Muse, and Nature mark:
"We then a Lodge for Thee will rear in HAGLEY-PARK."