Page:Vocal miscellany.pdf/38



Yes, dearer that all that weak symmetry fancies,
 * Constrain'd decorations that never can please,

When the eye, as 'twere, fetter'd, onward advance
 * No wild deviation affording release.

But, ah! why count over the charms of Glencowden
 * The charms of Glencowden are pains unto me;

These scenes of my youth! in my bosom thick croaking,
 * Will murder my peace, tho' far distant I be.

Then oft will the pleasures I felt at the nutting
 * Thy green spreading hazel, with clusters so fair

Return o'er my mind when, low pensively sitting
 * I brood o'er each prospect of sorrow and care.

To gain the sweet purple that glow'd on the bram
 * Or peep'd at the linnet that chirp'd on the spray

Now thy rugged sides I would fearlessly scramble
 * And chide my companions for timid delay.

Philosophers, tell me, how I may behind me
 * Leave all the soft pleasures I oft tasted there;

Nor drop (tho' reflection should craw to remind
 * For their loss the slight tribute they ask of a

Ah! there all your sophistry shrinks from the quest
 * In vain you pretend that affection is wrong:

The eye of endearment delights still to tease me,
 * And doat on those scenes it would wish to prole