Born in a dark wood's lonely dell, Where echoes roar'd, and tendrils curl'd Round a low cot, like hermit's cell, Old Salcey Forest was my world. I felt no bonds, no shackles then,...
O for the strength to paint my joy once more! That joy I feel when Winter's reign is o'er; When the dark despot lifts his hoary brow, And seeks his polar-realm's eternal snow....
'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel, Sweep up your orts, and get your Hat; Old joys reviv'd once more I feel, 'Tis Fair-day; - ay, and more than that.
Now fare-thee-well, England; no further I'll roam; But follow my shadow that points the way home; Your gay southern Shores shall not tempt me to stay; For my Maggy's at Home, and my Children at play!...
ROVER, awake! the grey Cock crows! Come, shake your coat and go with me! High in the East the green Hill glows; And glory crowns our shelt'ring Tree. The Sheep expect us at the fold:...
I had folded my flock, and my heart was o'erflowing, I loiter'd beside the small lake on the heath; The red sun, though down, left his drapery glowing, And no sound was stirring, I heard not a breath:...