An ancient beech spread its deep canopy:
Some one had planted there a pale white rose;
And the wild ones sweetly blush'd beside, and twin'd
Around the lovely stranger, as they would
Give it kind welcome. Never more my steps
Will wander in thy solitude, lone glen!
I shall not list again the serenade
The wood lark pours unto the eve; or wish,
When that I saw a green leaf float along
Upon the sunny waters of thy stream,
That such might be the fate of those I lov'd—
A bright untroubled course; and when the gale,
Too rudely breathing, whirl'd the leaf away,
Bethink me of how very vain my wish.
It is not grief, to say farewell to thee,
Valley of beauty! even in thy shades
I felt as exiles feel, when far from those
With whom their heart's love dwells : I have oft look'd
