 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
12
On Skipton's Vales.
1820.
On Skipton's vales and mountains play
The first red gleams of Morning gay—
O linger yet! ye moments, stay!
Nor urge my flight from blue-eyed Jessy!
The first red gleams of Morning gay—
O linger yet! ye moments, stay!
Nor urge my flight from blue-eyed Jessy!
Ye sweetly-opening daisies, filled
With tears from moonlight mists distilled,
The sun will dry your bosoms chilled,
And ye will smile like blue-eyed Jessy!
With tears from moonlight mists distilled,
The sun will dry your bosoms chilled,
And ye will smile like blue-eyed Jessy!
No sun, or spring-breeze passing by,
Shall wake my bloom, my tears shall dry;
A desert plant, I'll withered lie
Unwept, and far from blue-eyed Jessy!
Shall wake my bloom, my tears shall dry;
A desert plant, I'll withered lie
Unwept, and far from blue-eyed Jessy!
Alas! the moments will not stay—
The sky-lark summons me away!
But while my heart's warm pulses play,
My heart shall throb for blue-eyed Jessy!
The sky-lark summons me away!
But while my heart's warm pulses play,
My heart shall throb for blue-eyed Jessy!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |