Oft does my heart recall each bloomy grace,
That clothes thy woodland-wilds enchanting scene ;
And oft does musing thought delighted trace,
Each lovely feature of thy vallies green.
Ah ! myrtle shades ! where late I wont to stray,
And meet soft interchange of friendship's glance ;
Ah wavey hills ! whose tops of sombre grey,
First woke the bounding throb of young Romance.
How I have ponder'd o'er your mantling charms !
And worn ye in my heart for many a year !
How has my fancy woo'd ye to her arms,
And brought your well-remember'd beauties near !
And still--oh still be Mem'ry's proudest boast,
The golden hours I lived on Devon's coast.
Laura Sophia Temple (1805!)
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