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Dear native brook! where first young Poesy
Star'd wildly-eager in her noontide dream,
Where Blameless Pleasures dimple Quiet's cheek,
As water-lilies ripple a slow stream!
Dear native haunts! where Virtue still is gay:
Where Friendship's fix'd-star sheds a mellow'd ray;
Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears:
Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears;
And Mem'ry, with a Vestal's chaste employ,
Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of Joy!
No more your sky-larks melting from the sight
Shall thrill th' attuned heart-string with delight:—
No more shall deck your pensive Pleasures sweet
With wreaths of sober hue my evening seat.
Yet dear to Fancy's eye your varied scene
Of wood, hill, dale, and sparkling brook between!
