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Poems by James Hyslop

... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns

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XXXVIII. The Wish.
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XXXVIII.
The Wish.

[_]

(Imitated from Blackwood's Magazine.)

Oh! were I laid
In the greenwood shade,
Under my Lydia's soft dark eye,
Her blushing cheek shaded,
With shining hair braided,
And soft dewy lips of a deep-red dye;—
Love's tears to weep,
And to sink asleep
On a bosom as pure as the starlight dew,
When it falls in the night,
In the moonshine bright,
When woodlands are green and summer skies blue.
I ask no marriage bed,
Save the flowery sheets spread
By the bride-maids of spring, in the green woods of June,
Nor dancing, nor song,
Save the light-footed throng
Of musical elves in the beams of the moon.
Let not, let not,
On this sacred spot,
The unhallowed eye of the stranger gaze;
One young maiden nigh
Is enough; for I
Never lov'd more society all my days.

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Oh! were I laid
In the greenwood shade,
Under my Lydia's soft, dark eye,
Her blushing cheek shaded,
With shining hair braided,
And sweet dewy lips of a deep-red dye.