Song Xxxii. Summer Poem by Robert Anderson
Song Xxxii. Summer
Now the meadow, vale, and grove
Echo nought but songs of love;
Health around her fragrance pours,
Flora decks her fav'rite bow'rs.
Nature, smiling, seems to say,
`In thy summer, man, be gay,
`Ere from thee coy Health is fled,
`And life's autumn bends thy head.'
Why then, Love, my thoughts control?
Let me quaff the flowing bowl,
Till I banish hence dull Care,
And forget that Julia's fair.
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5/5/2024 7:47:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
