Page:1808 Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne.pdf/88



 How dear to him the shelter'd spot, The waving pines that shade his cot; His pastoral music wild and gay, May charm his simple cares away; And never will he sigh to roam, Far from his native mountain-home.

 

! could my Agnes rove these favourite shades, With mirth and friendship in the Cambrian vale, In mossy dells, or wild romantic glades, Where flowers uncultur'd scent the sportive gale; And could she wander at the morning hour, To hail with me, the blest return of May; Or linger sweetly in the woodbine bower, When early dews begem the weeping spray; Ah! soon her cheek the lovely mantling bloom Of sprightly youth, and pleasure, would disclose; Her lip the smile of Hebe would resume, And wear the blushes of the vernal rose; And soon would cherub health with lively grace, Beam in her eye, and animate her face.