This page has been validated.
18
SONGS OF
Here the wren of softest note
Builds it's nest and warbles well;
Here the blackbird drains his throat:
Welcome, Ladies! to our cell.
II.
And scuds the cloud before the gale,
Ere Morn with living gems bedight
Purples the East with streaky light,
We sip the furze-flowr's fragrant dews
Clad in robes of rainbow hues
Richer, than the deepen'd bloom,
That glows on Summer's lily-scented plume:
Or, sport amid the rosy gleam
Sooth'd by the distant-tinkling team,
