Close is the nook; the valley--pathway steep
Above the river climbs; and down the bank,
With sweet wild roses and thick hazels rank,
By an unheeded track your feet may creep
Into a shady covert still and deep,
Harbour of flowery fragrance; with full tide
The river slumbers by; on either side
Over their rocks the merry runnels leap.
Here, in the freshness of each sunny morn,
Sit we in raptured converse; every flower
Opens to greet us in our trellised bower,
With warm dew sparkling; moss with hair unshorn
Is our soft pavement; and the social throng
Unscared, around us pour their airy song.