Poems by the Right Honourable the late Lord Lyttleton

Ye sylvan scenes with artless beauty gay,
Ye gentle shades of Wickham say,
What is the charm that each successive year,
Which sees me with my Lucy here,
Can thus to my transported heart,
A sense of joy unfelt before impart?

II.

Is it glad Summer's balmy breath that blows
From the fair jessamine, and the blushing rose?
Her balmy breath, and all her blooming store
Of rural bliss was here before:
Oft have I met her on the verdant side
Of Norwood-hill, and in the yellow meads,
Where Pan the dancing Graces leads,
Array'd in all her flowery pride.
No sweeter fragrance now the gardens yield,
No brighter colours paint the enamell'd field.

III.

Is it to Love these new delights I owe?
Four times has the revolving sun
His annual circle thro' the zodiac run;
Since all that love's indulgent power
On favour'd mortals can bestow,
Was given to me in this auspicious bower.

IV.

Here first my Lucy, sweet in virgin charms
Was yielded to my longing arms;
And round our nuptial bed,
Hovering with purple wings, the Idalian boy
Shook from his radiant torch the blissful fires
Of innocent desires,
While Venus scatter'd myrtles o'er her head.
Whence then this strange increase of joy?
He, only he can tell, who match'd like me,
If such another happy man there be)
Has by his own experience tried
How much the wife, is dearer than the bride.

University of Virginia Library

AN IRREGULAR ODE

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