Ode to Pity
Ever musing I delight to tread
The Paths of honour and the Myrtle Grove
Whilst the pale Moon her beams doth shed
On disappointed Love.
While Philomel on airy hawthorn Bush
Sings sweet and Melancholy, And the thrush
Converses with the Dove.
Gently brawling down the turnpike road,
Sweetly noisy falls the Silent Stream--
The Moon emerges from behind a Cloud
And darts upon the Myrtle Grove her beam.
Ah! then what Lovely Scenes appear,
The hut, the Cot, the Grot, and Chapel queer,
And eke the Abbey too a mouldering heap,
Cnceal'd by aged pines her head doth rear
And quite invisible doth take a peep.
Jane Austen's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Ode to Pity by Jane Austen )
- Bane of Attraction, Anthony Edmond John
- Wandersong, Neil Kennett
- Open Me Up, I'm Present, Luva Boy
- The Poem, Neil Kennett
- Arrival of Fall, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- I Want You Woman, Luva Boy
- Almost A White Horse, mary douglas
- The Tall Ride, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- Paces, Neil Kennett
- ህድደን ዎርልድስ - Hidden Worlds, Is It Poetry