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 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
Ah! is it Fancy, that, with silent pace,
Impels me thus to range from place to place;
To see on ev'ry side an harvest bend,
Yet look on ev'ry side to find my friend?
Or is it fancy makes yon village train,—
For now 'tis ev'ning,—sport around in vain?
That plighted pairs, amidst the hazel boughs,
By me unseen, impart their tender vows;
While unsuspicious of a witness near,
They mix with Nature's language, Nature's tear?
That twilight's gentle grey which now comes on,
To wait, a sober hand-maid on the sun,
To watch his parting tinge, his soften'd fires,
Then blush with maiden grace as he retires;
The full-orb'd moon, which now ascending high
Her silver shade throws light across the sky;
The still serene that seems to lull the breeze,
Soft in a leafy cradle 'midst the trees;
The lessen'd sound of yonder distant bell,
Some mournful moral in each pausing knell;
The dropping dew that settles on my cheek,
The frugal lights that from each cottage break;
The just-dropp'd latch, the little lattice clos'd,
To shield from evening's damp the babe repos'd,
And note the hour when temperance and health
Yield the pale vigils of the night to wealth.
Impels me thus to range from place to place;
To see on ev'ry side an harvest bend,
Yet look on ev'ry side to find my friend?
Or is it fancy makes yon village train,—
For now 'tis ev'ning,—sport around in vain?
That plighted pairs, amidst the hazel boughs,
By me unseen, impart their tender vows;
While unsuspicious of a witness near,
They mix with Nature's language, Nature's tear?
That twilight's gentle grey which now comes on,
To wait, a sober hand-maid on the sun,
To watch his parting tinge, his soften'd fires,
Then blush with maiden grace as he retires;
The full-orb'd moon, which now ascending high
Her silver shade throws light across the sky;
21
Soft in a leafy cradle 'midst the trees;
The lessen'd sound of yonder distant bell,
Some mournful moral in each pausing knell;
The dropping dew that settles on my cheek,
The frugal lights that from each cottage break;
The just-dropp'd latch, the little lattice clos'd,
To shield from evening's damp the babe repos'd,
And note the hour when temperance and health
Yield the pale vigils of the night to wealth.
| Miscellanies (1785) | |