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Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down,
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
With here and there a violet bestrewn,
Fast by a brook or fountain’s murmuring wave;
And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave!

— James Beattie The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)

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Death

More quotes by James Beattie

Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free;
Patient of toil, serene amidst alarms;
Inflexible in faith, invincible in arms.

The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)

Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.

The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)

To the pure soul by Fancy's fire refined,
Ah, what is mirth but turbulence unholy,
When with the charm compared of heavenly melancholy.

The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)

Wilt thou debase the heart which God refined?
No; let thy heaven-taught soul to heaven aspire,
To fancy, freedom, harmony, resigned;
Ambition's groveling crew forever left behind.

The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)

Ah, who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame’s proud temple shines afar?

The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: James Beattie (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.