Go, sit upon ty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
ers wild
Do umn sound.
t on them --
t --
Sit still -- as all transformd to stone,
Except your musing .
in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And he green woods sing
Beneathe freshening wind.
the same wind now blows around,
You s blast recall;
For every breat stirs trees,
Doto fall.
O h
t fles impart:
e cannot bear its visitings,
.
Gay s may make us smile,
hen Sorrow is asleep;
But ot make us smile,
hen Sorrow bids us weep!
t clasp our hands, --
their presence may be oer;
t voice t meets our ear,
t tone may come no more!
Youth,
hich once refreshd our mind,
Shose sighing woods,
tumn wind.
t the woods;
Look out oer vale and hill-
In spring, them --
till.
Come autumns scaters cold --
Come ce!
ever prospect h bound,
Can neer be desolate.