26
reminiscences of oxford.
Oft have I wandered 'neath thy verdant groves,
And by thy classic stream, that memory loves,
Where dewy eve looks down with weeping eye,
And stars hang trembling in the twilight sky!—
Where, in the distance, all thy noble spires
Stand proudly forth, illumined by the fires
Of the fast-sinking sun, whose last faint ray,
With a thousand fancies brightly play!
Oxford! though thy fond groves I see no more,
Yet, I'll love thee still for the days of yore.
Oft in my walks I seem to see again
Thy spires and towers! Oh! dreams so fair and vain,
Ye linger like the perfume round the flower,
Too rudely snatched from her fair forest bower.
Forgive me if in every grove I trace
Some fancied scenes of that dear ancient place;
Musing, as I speed upon my quiet way,
On earthly things and their too fast decay.
And by thy classic stream, that memory loves,
Where dewy eve looks down with weeping eye,
And stars hang trembling in the twilight sky!—
Where, in the distance, all thy noble spires
Stand proudly forth, illumined by the fires
Of the fast-sinking sun, whose last faint ray,
With a thousand fancies brightly play!
Oxford! though thy fond groves I see no more,
Yet, I'll love thee still for the days of yore.
Oft in my walks I seem to see again
Thy spires and towers! Oh! dreams so fair and vain,
Ye linger like the perfume round the flower,
Too rudely snatched from her fair forest bower.
Forgive me if in every grove I trace
Some fancied scenes of that dear ancient place;
Musing, as I speed upon my quiet way,
On earthly things and their too fast decay.
CHRIST CHURCH.
THE "Great Tom's" noble tower salutes my gaze,
As to its noble arch my eyes I raise,—
In mighty grandeur it doth upward spring,
As to its noble arch my eyes I raise,—
In mighty grandeur it doth upward spring,
