Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/105

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

89

The lowly lovely dwelling! even nowBehold the woodbine clasping its white wallsAnd hear the fearless red-breasts chirp aroundTo ask their morning meal:—for I was wontWith friendly hand to give their morning meal,Was wont to love their song, when lingering mornStreak'd o'er the chilly landscape the dim light,And thro' the open'd lattice hung my headTo view the snow-drop's bud: and thence at eveWhen mildly fading sunk the summer sun,Oft have I loved to mark the rook's slow courseAnd hear his hollow croak, what time he soughtThe church-yard elm, whose wide-embowering boughsFull foliaged, half conceal'd the house of God.There, my dead father! often have I heardThy hallowed voice explain the wonderous worksOf Heaven to sinful man. Ah! little deem'dThy virtuous bosom, that thy shameless childSo soon should spurn the lesson! sink the slaveOf Vice and Infamy! the hireling prey
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.