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the brook, cleeve hill, gloucestershire.
Swiftly down by the old green lane,
Yet shall I meet you once again,
Babbling thus thy wild gentle lay;
Sport but awhile this sunny day,
To the flowers now lingering here;
Winters' chilly blast is near!
Yet shall I meet you once again,
Babbling thus thy wild gentle lay;
Sport but awhile this sunny day,
To the flowers now lingering here;
Winters' chilly blast is near!
By the lichen'd homstead we must meet,
Rippling and gleaming at my feet
Clear and so cool ye revel on,
A flashing gleam and ye are gone
Through the lovely ferny nook,
Vanish'd in yon hedge my brook!
Rippling and gleaming at my feet
Clear and so cool ye revel on,
A flashing gleam and ye are gone
Through the lovely ferny nook,
Vanish'd in yon hedge my brook!
