 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
50
I LOVE TO HEAR.
I love to hear the flute's sweet notes,
On zephyr's balmy pinion borne;
While soft the melting cadence floats,
And sighing echoes wake to mourn.
Stealing on the raptured ear,
At the closing hour of day,
Wildly warbling, sweet and clear,
Grateful as affection's tear,
Then in murmurs die away.
On zephyr's balmy pinion borne;
While soft the melting cadence floats,
And sighing echoes wake to mourn.
Stealing on the raptured ear,
At the closing hour of day,
Wildly warbling, sweet and clear,
Grateful as affection's tear,
Then in murmurs die away.
I love to hear, when blushing morn
First tips the clouds with rosy hue,
The new-waked lark salute the dawn,
His matin song of praise renew.
Singing as he skims the plain,
Or directs his flight above;
Waking all the tuneful train
To begin the sylvan strain,
Harmonizing every grove.
First tips the clouds with rosy hue,
The new-waked lark salute the dawn,
His matin song of praise renew.
Singing as he skims the plain,
Or directs his flight above;
Waking all the tuneful train
To begin the sylvan strain,
Harmonizing every grove.
I love to hear, when mid-day heat
With listless languor fills the brain,
Deep in some shady, cool retreat,
The distant waterfall complain,
As it leaps the craggy mound,
Pouring down the rocky height,
Foaming o'er the pebbled ground,
While it sparkles on the sight.
With listless languor fills the brain,
Deep in some shady, cool retreat,
The distant waterfall complain,
51
Pouring down the rocky height,
Foaming o'er the pebbled ground,
While it sparkles on the sight.
But when with her, whose image dwells
Within my glowing breast, I stray,
The music more divinely swells,
The lark more sweetly tunes his lay;
While beneath the shade we rove,
Murmuring streamlets sooth the ear,
Through the calm sequestered grove,
Echo whispers only love—
Cupids only hover near.
Within my glowing breast, I stray,
The music more divinely swells,
The lark more sweetly tunes his lay;
While beneath the shade we rove,
Murmuring streamlets sooth the ear,
Through the calm sequestered grove,
Echo whispers only love—
Cupids only hover near.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |