Ebor’s Green

Mr Porden

When first to dwell by Ouze’s stream
From Humber’s bolder tide I came
My sickly soul no mirth cou’d find,
The youths were shy, the maids unkind.
With pain I view’d the morning light,
And sighing spent the wakeful night.
I thought that joy was never seen,
To dance on Ebor’s cheerless Green.

But since Lavinia kindly strove
With Melidore in social love,
My heart exults; I long no more,
To tread the Humber’s sounding shore,
The walks, the youths, the maids are gay,
How fleet the night! how blest the day,
I think that joy is never seen,
Except on Ebor’s gladsome Green.

’Tis friendship cheers the wintry day,
And makes the gloomy landscape gay.
For cast me on some desert shore,
Where tempests howl, and surges roar.
Or fix me near the frozen pole,
With these dear partners of my soul.
Joy still attending shall be seen,
As now on Ebor’s gladsome Green.

And were my wildest wishes blest,
Nay more — were boundless wealth possess’d,
Shared not my friends the shining prize,
My soul would boundless wealth despise.
Did fame not bless the social three,
Even fame would boast no charms for me.
Nor paradise be longer seen,
Without my Friends on Ebor’s Green.