Yon wand'ring rill that marks the hill, And glances o'er the brae, Sir, Slides by a bower, where mony a flower Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir; There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay, To love they thought no crime, Sir, The wild birds sang, the echoes rang, While Damon's heart beat time, Sir. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE MEMORY OF MARTHA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): MEDEA'S DREAM by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS ASCENSION (1) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT RUE DU BOIS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |