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 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
And yet to touch me various powers combine
Where summer revels with a warmth divine;
The glowing season here each charm supplies,
From earth's rich harvest crown'd with cloudless skies,
Or future plenty bursting through the grain,
From golden sheaves that circle round the swain.
Here as I stop, beneath Eliza's tree,
Far, oh belov'd associate! far from thee,
Some little change thy absence to declare
I pray to find, and friendship forms the pray'r:
Less bright the sun-beams, or less soft the show'rs,
Some essence wanting to the fruits or flow'rs:
Those fruits and flow'rs, alas! more ripe appear,
And the lawn smiles as tho' my friend were here;
From the soft myrtle brighter blossoms spring,
In mellower notes the plumy people sing:
Near yonder church were we retir'd to pray,
The good man's modest cottage I survey;
Our pious Pastor, who each sabbath taught
The listening rustic's noblest reach of thought:
That modest cottage and its garden still
Seek the soft shelter of the friendly hill;
The column'd smoke still curls its wreathes around,
And not one lessen'd beauty marks the bound.
Where summer revels with a warmth divine;
13
From earth's rich harvest crown'd with cloudless skies,
Or future plenty bursting through the grain,
From golden sheaves that circle round the swain.
Here as I stop, beneath Eliza's tree,
Far, oh belov'd associate! far from thee,
Some little change thy absence to declare
I pray to find, and friendship forms the pray'r:
Less bright the sun-beams, or less soft the show'rs,
Some essence wanting to the fruits or flow'rs:
Those fruits and flow'rs, alas! more ripe appear,
And the lawn smiles as tho' my friend were here;
From the soft myrtle brighter blossoms spring,
In mellower notes the plumy people sing:
Near yonder church were we retir'd to pray,
The good man's modest cottage I survey;
Our pious Pastor, who each sabbath taught
The listening rustic's noblest reach of thought:
That modest cottage and its garden still
Seek the soft shelter of the friendly hill;
14
And not one lessen'd beauty marks the bound.
As near yon bow'r with pensive steps I go,
To view the shrubs your culture taught to grow,
The fair exotics boast a happier bloom
Than when their patron shar'd the rich perfume:
The orange still its tawny lustre shews,
The late rose reddens, and the balsam blows;
While roving o'er the hedge the woodbine fair
Embalms with heaven's own essence heaven's own air;
Not softer and not sweeter flew the gale,
When we together trod this blooming vale;
When far beyond the busy world's controul,
Nature our guide, we open'd all the soul.
To view the shrubs your culture taught to grow,
The fair exotics boast a happier bloom
Than when their patron shar'd the rich perfume:
The orange still its tawny lustre shews,
The late rose reddens, and the balsam blows;
While roving o'er the hedge the woodbine fair
Embalms with heaven's own essence heaven's own air;
Not softer and not sweeter flew the gale,
When we together trod this blooming vale;
When far beyond the busy world's controul,
Nature our guide, we open'd all the soul.
| Miscellanies (1785) | |