Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1832.pdf/42

Rh

not dwell here, it is all too fair, Too sunny, too luxuriant; those green fields, With the rich shadows of their old oak trees, Or the more graceful sweep of the light ash; Fields where the skylark builds amid the grass, Trees where the thrush's nest is on the boughs; Those human dwellings, looking peace at least, In gardens, with their growth of cultured flowers; The quiet winding of that tideless stream, Whose very movement is repose, whose waves Are rarely stirred save by the falling rain, Which comes when sunshine asks relief from showers; I could not dwell here, it is far too fair, For my heart feels the contrast all too much, Between the placid scene, and its unrest.