YE peaceful shades! that guard my dear lov'd home
From the chill blasts that strip the fading grove,
While far from that sequester'd scene I roam,
Which justly claims my venerating love;
Long may the verdure linger on your boughs,
Which wont in happier times to deck the shepherd's brows!
And thou, sweet stream, that wand'ring through the vale
With mazy windings, lead'st thy waves along;
May thy translucent waters never fail
To feed the lake or aid the rural song:
For echo, pleas'd, retains thy murmurs sweet,
Where with the bubbling Tarfe thy lucid waters meet.
Fair is the bosom of that peaceful lake
When the soft zephyr on its bosom sleeps;
Dreadful the roar its troubled waters make,
When winter's rage declining Nature weeps:
Oh! may its glassy surface still present
The well-known dear abode of calm content!
Ye woods of wild Glentarfe , whose pensive gloom
Round SYLVIA'S dwelling spreads a solemn shade;
How dear to memory is your former bloom,
When SYLVIA'S sprightly converse cheer'd the glade.
When spring returns to deck the green retreat,
Again with joy I'll hail the well-known seat,
The scene of social joys and tranquil pleasures sweet.