 | The seasons, in four pastorals |  |
With wayworn feet a Pilgrim woe begone
Life's upward road I journied many a day,
And hymning many a sad yet soothing lay
Beguil'd my wandering with the charms of song.
Lonely my heart and rugged was my way,
Yet often pluck'd I as I pass'd along
The wild and simple flowers of Poesy.
——and scorn not thou
The humble offering.—
Life's upward road I journied many a day,
And hymning many a sad yet soothing lay
Beguil'd my wandering with the charms of song.
Lonely my heart and rugged was my way,
Yet often pluck'd I as I pass'd along
The wild and simple flowers of Poesy.
——and scorn not thou
The humble offering.—
Southey.
| The seasons, in four pastorals | |