Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow Lord Thurlow |
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Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow | ||
11
SONNET.
[The Summer, the divinest Summer burns]
The Summer, the divinest Summer burns,The skies are bright with azure and with gold,
The mavis, and the nightingale by turns
Amid the woods a soft enchantment hold:
The flow'ring woods, with glory and delight,
Their tender leaves unto the air have spread,
The wanton air amid their alleys bright
Doth softly fly, and a light fragrance shed:
The Nymphs within the silver fountains play,
The Angels on the golden banks recline,
Wherein great Flora, in her bright array,
Hath sprinkled her ambrosial sweets divine;
Or, else I gaze upon that beauteous face,
O Amoret! and think these sweets have place.
Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow | ||