By the rock near the wave,
Where her first kiss she gave,
On the greensward, to me,—
Something I see!
Is it she?
1812. ——- PREMATURE SPRING.
DAYS full of rapture,
Are ye renew'd ?—
Smile in the sunlight
Mountain and wood?
Streams richer laden
Flow through the dale,
Are these the meadows?
Is this the vale?
Coolness cerulean!
Heaven and height!
Fish crowd the ocean,