The fair Isabel of Cotehele a Cornish romance, in six cantos. By the author of Local attachment, and translator of Theocritus [i.e. Richard Polwhele] |
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The fair Isabel of Cotehele | ||
87
XIV.
But, hovering o'er her woodbines wild,Had fonder dreams her grief beguil'd.
The summer-nests that still were seen
Tho' arid now, or dusky green,—
Ah! crept not from one summer-nest
Something like tremour to her breast?
And lo! that moment flitting by,
And (now less diffident and shy)
Glancing back his lively eye—
Say, was the little trembling wren
That flies so far the haunts of men
To huddling brook and gloomy glen,
Yet seem'd to seek her former care—
Say, was he an intruder there?
The fair Isabel of Cotehele | ||