Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/193

Rh

Ev'n now of love and war he dreams in vain, Doomed with his blood thy gelid wave to stain.

Let the red Dog-star burn!—his scorching beam, Fierce in resplendence shall molest not thee! Still sheltered from his rage, thy banks, fair stream, To the wild flock around thee wandering free, And the tired oxen from the furrowed field; The genial freshness of their breath shall yield.

And thou, bright Fount! ennobled and renowned, Shall by thy poet's votive song be made; Thou and the oak with deathless verdure crowned, Whose boughs, a pendant canopy, o'ershade Those hollow rocks, whence, murmuring many a tale, Thy chiming waters pour upon the vale.