Not the soft sighs of vernal gales,
The fragrance of the flowery vales,
The murmurs of the crystal rill,
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This was so gorgeous both in his age and in ours. I am going to read a ton more of his poetry. The man had skills! ! !
He paints such a picture of fame, fortune and the wondrous enchantment of the natural world and yet how they pale in comparison to his lovely Stella. The splendid account and reverence of a man of good fortune.
I like this for its warmth and directness. Johnson, in his time, reminds me of Socrates in his. -GK
Darn good poem. Stella has retained unsung and lofty forever.
very nice poem..........................................
A beautiful poem with haunting expression. Interesting to read.
'And, lovely Stella! thou art mine - all the beauty described in the preceding lines fade out when compared to this last! A lovely poem with vernal vibe.