Or Mungo, the negro, who quaintly and sly
Takes his tea, Cayenne pepper, and cold apple-pie.
[p31] Some gaze on the Cygnets that glide like a dream,
And bend down to admire their fair forms in the stream;
Some laugh at their fancies, or muse on a flower,
And all are delighted, so happy the hour.
Wouldst thou gaze with emotions far purer than mirth
On one of the fairest creations of earth,
Go at even, and breathe the pure breath of the breeze,
From the seat by the Lake, ’neath those wild Willow-trees.