A Rustic Seat Near The Sea

To him, who, many a night upon the main,
  At mid-watch, from the bounding vessel's side,
  Shivering, has listened to the rocking tide,
  Oh, how delightful smile thy views again,
  Fair Land! the sheltered hut, and far-seen mill
  That safe sails round and round; the tripping rill
  That o'er the gray sand glitters; the clear sky,
  Beneath whose blue vault shines the village tower,
  That high elms, swaying in the wind, embower;
  And hedge-rows, where the small birds' melody
  Solace the lithe and loitering peasant lad!
  O Stranger! is thy pausing fancy sad
  At thought of many evils which do press
  On wide humanity!--Look up; address
  The GOD who made the world; but let thy heart
  Be thankful, though some heavy thoughts have part,
  That, sheltered from the human storms' career,
  Thou meetest innocence and quiet here.