The Deserted Village

The Deserted Village
5603

Sweet Auburnt lovellest village of the plain,
Where herith and plenty cheered the laboring swain
Where smiling spring its earliest visit pald
And parting summer’s lingering blooms delayed
Dear, lovely bowers of innocence and
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please
How often have I loitered over thy green
Where humble happiness endeared each scenel
How often have i paused on every charin-
The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm
The never failing brook, the busy mill
The decent church that topped the neighboring
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade
For talking age, and whispering lovers made!

How often have I blessed the coming day
When toll remitting lent its aid to piay
And all the he village tram, from labor free
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree
While many a pastime circled in the shade-
The young contending as the old surveyed;
And many a gambol frolicked o’er the ground,
And sleights of art and feats of strength went round
Sweet, smiling village, lovellest of the lawn:
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;
thy bowers, the tryrant’s hand is geen,
And desolation saddens sall thy green:
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day
But, choked with sedges, works its weedy way!
Along thy glades, a solitary guest
The hollow sounding bittern guards its nest