Poems (Temple)/Sonnet 4

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SONNET IV. To the BANKS of the EX. 
Oft does my heart recal each bloomy grace,That clothes thy woodland-wilds enchanting scene;And oft does musing thought delighted trace,Each lovely feature of thy vallies green.Ah! myrtle shades! where late I wont to stray,And meet soft interchange of friendship's glance;Ah wavey hills! whose tops of sombre grey,First woke the bounding throb of young Romance.How I have ponder'd o'er your mantling charms!And worn ye in my heart for many a year!How has my fancy woo'd ye to her arms,And brought your well-remember'd beauties near!And still—oh still be Mem'ry's proudest boast,The golden hours I lived on Devon's coast.
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