3
THE MAID OF ARUNDEL.
Thou fairest of the fairest maids,
In Arundel’s embowering shades,
When beauty smiles in all her charms,
And love’s-delighted bosom warms.
With her I woo each sylvan scene,
Of fragrant bower and arbour green,
While smiling hopes our cares dispel,
We bless the shades of Arundel.
When twilight steak along the wold,
And wandering shepherds leave the fold,
To woo the bower, the scented grove,
Again my lovely Rosalie,
With bounding heart I fly to thee,
Love’s dear and fond delights to tell,
Amid the shades of Arundel.
As wandering in the castle mound,
Or moving in the festive round,
I feel the power of love divine,
Bright beaming in those eyes of thine.
And sweeter is thine artless tale,
Than midnight song of Nightingale,
