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Article A FOREST INVITATION. ← Page 2 of 2
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Forest Invitation.
Here in these sylvan wilds am I , Keeping very good company : Bees their busy quest pursuing , Butterflies , who sport in wooing , And birds who fill the air with song , Greet me witli gladness all day long .
Ever I live , content indeed , Having no worldly want or need ; Far from haunts of human folly , Here exists no melancholy , Love in these shades holds court and sway , And decks his pomp in green array ; Won from the ivy-clustered stem
Of trees , who form his diadem . Hither I roam , by tangled brake , By fairy rings , and wood-girt lake , Up with the lark , to bed with the hee , Where is the lifemore joyous and free 1
Ah ! my friend , what avail your looks , Busts . of Platos and dusty books ; Gold and silver , and all things rare , Won by toil in that murky air ; Volumes and volumes , truths and lies , Mixed like common hypocrisies , Drest in learning ' s eloquent guise ?
Pining away in solemn state , Is't for ever to he your fate ? Prythee forswear such dolorous dreed , Learn new hope from my country creed . Here in this dell , where roses meet , Round the belt of a time-worn seat , Made in the cleft of an old elm-tree
, Haunted by many a roving bee ; Here you shall taste fresh joys , and feel The bliss that leafy charms reveal ; Forget the din , the frets , and strife , That circle round your city life ; Tumult and clamour have no part In this favourite forest ' s heart ;
Peace is found where she is woo'd , In Nature ' s gentle solitude . Nay , good my friend , do close that tome , Come to me in my forest home . W . BKAILSFORD .
VOL . III . K
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Forest Invitation.
Here in these sylvan wilds am I , Keeping very good company : Bees their busy quest pursuing , Butterflies , who sport in wooing , And birds who fill the air with song , Greet me witli gladness all day long .
Ever I live , content indeed , Having no worldly want or need ; Far from haunts of human folly , Here exists no melancholy , Love in these shades holds court and sway , And decks his pomp in green array ; Won from the ivy-clustered stem
Of trees , who form his diadem . Hither I roam , by tangled brake , By fairy rings , and wood-girt lake , Up with the lark , to bed with the hee , Where is the lifemore joyous and free 1
Ah ! my friend , what avail your looks , Busts . of Platos and dusty books ; Gold and silver , and all things rare , Won by toil in that murky air ; Volumes and volumes , truths and lies , Mixed like common hypocrisies , Drest in learning ' s eloquent guise ?
Pining away in solemn state , Is't for ever to he your fate ? Prythee forswear such dolorous dreed , Learn new hope from my country creed . Here in this dell , where roses meet , Round the belt of a time-worn seat , Made in the cleft of an old elm-tree
, Haunted by many a roving bee ; Here you shall taste fresh joys , and feel The bliss that leafy charms reveal ; Forget the din , the frets , and strife , That circle round your city life ; Tumult and clamour have no part In this favourite forest ' s heart ;
Peace is found where she is woo'd , In Nature ' s gentle solitude . Nay , good my friend , do close that tome , Come to me in my forest home . W . BKAILSFORD .
VOL . III . K