Page:Poems Mitford.djvu/106

Nor hanging o'er the streamlet's side,
 Where waves yon asper's foliage light;
Mark the bat flit across the tide,
 Or circling wheel her eddying flight.

But, with thy cheering influence blest,
 The merry dance Til quickly join,
Mix in each gay fantastic jest,
 Or seek Thalia's crowded shrine.

When laughing summer decks the plain,
 I'll seek the hay-fields joyous throng,
Observe the merry rustic train,
 And listen to their simple song.

And in the calm domestic hour
 When closes dark November's day,
Then most I'll woo thy magic pow'r,
 To chase each gloomy thought away.