MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
THOUGHTS OF THE AVON,
ON THE 28TH OF SEPTEMBER, 1817.
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It is the loveliest day that we have had
This lovely month, sparkling and full of cheer;
The sun has a sharp eye, yet kind and glad;
Colours are doubly bright: all things appear
Strong outlined in the spacious atmosphere;
And through the lofty air the white clouds go,
As on their way to some celestial show.
This lovely month, sparkling and full of cheer;
The sun has a sharp eye, yet kind and glad;
Colours are doubly bright: all things appear
Strong outlined in the spacious atmosphere;
And through the lofty air the white clouds go,
As on their way to some celestial show.
The banks of Avon must look well to-day;
Autumn is there in all his glory and treasure;
The river must run bright; the ripples play
Their crispest tunes to boats that rock at leisure;
The ladies are abroad with cheeks of pleasure;
And the rich orchards in their sunniest robes
Are pouting thick with all their winy globes.
Autumn is there in all his glory and treasure;
The river must run bright; the ripples play
Their crispest tunes to boats that rock at leisure;
The ladies are abroad with cheeks of pleasure;
And the rich orchards in their sunniest robes
Are pouting thick with all their winy globes.
And why must I be thinking of the pride
Of distant bowers, as if I had no nest
To sing in here, though by the houses' side?
As if I could not in a minute rest
In leafy fields, quiet, and self-possest,
Having, on one side, Hampstead for my looks,
On t'other, London with its wealth of books?
Of distant bowers, as if I had no nest
To sing in here, though by the houses' side?
As if I could not in a minute rest
In leafy fields, quiet, and self-possest,
Having, on one side, Hampstead for my looks,
On t'other, London with its wealth of books?