 | Poems |  |
I.
“Rude romantic shades, and woods,“Hanging walks and falling floods!
“Now, that gush with foaming pride
“Down the rough rock's steepy side:
“Now, that o'er the pebbles play,
“Winding round your silver way:
“Mountains, that in dusky cloud,
“High your sacred summits shroud;
“Whose variegated sides adorn
“Fields, and flocks, and groves, and corn,
“And whited cots, beside the steep,
“Where health and labour sweetly sleep;
“Hail! pleasing scenes!” Amyntas cry'd,
As by old Hundy's gurgling side,
In careless sort his limbs he laid,
The hoar hill hanging o'er his head.
His harp of ancient British sound lay by;
He seiz'd it rapturous: o'er the strings
His fingers lightly fly,
While thus his voice responsive sings:
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