Page:Poetical sketches reprint (1868).djvu/38

20 {| align="center" SONG.

LOVE the jocund dance, The softly-breathing song, Where innocent eyes do glance And where lisps the maiden's tongue.

I love the laughing vale, I love the echoing hill, Where mirth does never fail, And the jolly swain laughs his fill.

I love the pleasant cot, I love the innocent bower, Where white and brown is our lot Or fruit in the mid-day hour.

I love the oaken seat, Beneath the oaken tree, Where all the old villagers meet, And laugh our sports to see.


 * }