Page:The Golden Violet.pdf/13

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It was now their meeting hour,— They scattered round through grove and bower. Many a high-born beauty made Her seat beneath the chestnut shade; While, like her shadow hovering near, Came her dark-eyed cavalier. Bidding the rose fade by her cheek, To hint of what he dared not speak. And others wander'd with the lute, In such a scene could it be mute? While from its winged sweetness came, The echo of some treasured name. And many a grot with laughter rung, As gathered there, these gay and young Flung airy jests like arrows round, That hit the mark but to rebound.