 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
198
NATURE.
I stray'd at evening to a sylvan sceneDimpling with nature's smile the stern old mountain,
A shady dingle, quiet, cool, and green,
Where the moss'd rock pours forth its natural fountain;
And hazels cluster there, with fern between,
And meadow-sweet perfumes the dewy maze:
Then was I calm and happy: for the voice
Of nightingales unseen in tremulous lays
Taught me with innocent gladness to rejoice,
And tuned my spirit to unformal praise:
So among silver'd moths, and closing flowers,
Gambolling hares, and rooks returning home,
And strong-wing'd chafers setting out to roam,
In careless peace I pass'd the soothing hours.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |