 | Poems (1806) |  |
196
SONNET IV.
[How sweet—what time the quick-rekindling day]
How sweet—what time the quick-rekindling dayHis orient colours on my dove-cote streams;
Whose gilding blushes in the vivid ray,
And o'er my window flings reflected beams;
How sweet to listen to thy cooing note,
While slumbers softly leave the unsealed eye,
And on my pillow lights the placid thought
To bid the hovering dream of morning fly!
Yes, gentle Dove! may still thy plaintive tone
Be the first rural sound to meet my ear!
And still this breast such simple pleasures own,
That, as a lesson, I may love to hear;
And picture, with no gall to give offence,
Wafted on every note, thy innocence?
P.
| Poems (1806) | |