Page:The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems.pdf/11



When Autumn, bearing golden sheaves, Delights the happy swain; And softly paints the fading leaves, And crowns the fertile plain.

And e'en in winter's hoary reign I'll wake my festive lays; Thy look shall prompt th' enliv'ning strain, And "brighten at the blaze!"

I court thee in the vernal hours Of life's enchanting morn; Thy hand shall strew my path with flow'rs   And steal away the thorn: But when the dawn of youth is fled, The spring of life so fair; Ah! wilt thou then benignly shed Thy placid beams around my head, And steal my thoughts from care?