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188
LINES TO A BOWER.
Once more I visit thee, my bower;
Nor dream of grandeur, fame, nor power!
Calm haunt of innocence and ease,
When tired of sounds of heartless mirth—
When tired of all besides on earth—
Thou can'st not cease to please!
Nor dream of grandeur, fame, nor power!
Calm haunt of innocence and ease,
When tired of sounds of heartless mirth—
When tired of all besides on earth—
Thou can'st not cease to please!
Sing, sing! thou unseen joyous bird;
Thy gladdening note I oft have heard!
Sweet herald of the hastening spring;
My heart as light, and spirits gay,
As thine, wild songster on the spray,
That doth so blithely, loudly sing.
Thy gladdening note I oft have heard!
Sweet herald of the hastening spring;
My heart as light, and spirits gay,
As thine, wild songster on the spray,
That doth so blithely, loudly sing.
Blow, flowerets, blow! around my bower,
Refreshed by many a silvery shower!
Still flourish here, thou lily pale—
Carnation bright, and blooming rose!
Here, too, the honeysuckle blows,
And scents the fresh and balmy gale.
Refreshed by many a silvery shower!
Still flourish here, thou lily pale—
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Here, too, the honeysuckle blows,
And scents the fresh and balmy gale.
My much-loved—my unaltered bower,
Bespangled o'er by leaf and flower!
'Tis here that I delight to rest!—
Here—hid from every mortal eye,
Unmarked by stranger passing by—
No sorrows heave my breast!
Bespangled o'er by leaf and flower!
'Tis here that I delight to rest!—
Here—hid from every mortal eye,
Unmarked by stranger passing by—
No sorrows heave my breast!
Not yon proud castle's scutcheoned walls—
Fair terraces and bannered halls!
Not sculptured stone, nor cloud-capt tower,
Can yield my heart such dear delight,
Nor even captivate my sight,
Like thee, my solitary bower!
Fair terraces and bannered halls!
Not sculptured stone, nor cloud-capt tower,
Can yield my heart such dear delight,
Nor even captivate my sight,
Like thee, my solitary bower!
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