 | The bard, and minor poems |  |
THE RETURN.
As from the distant wars some love-lorn knightThe maid revisits, whom he woo'd of old—
And grieves full sore, that war and hostile fight
Had won from Beauty to adventure bold;
Even so lament I, and, when I behold
Glad native hill's, your glory and your pride—
See Nature's charms, each wood and verdant glade,
And hear the mountain-brook's rejoicing tide,
Or forest birds that warble in the shade:
O, then my bosom yearns for years departed,
Memories, and hopes, that gild the page of Time.—
Bright, glorious shapes awaken, long since parted,
When love, and youth, and joy were in their prime;
And tears start forth in many a gushing tide,
Nature! that e'er I wander'd from thy side.
| The bard, and minor poems | |