But to come back to the reader in his shadie nooke:
Tales of my Nursery! shall that still loved spot,
That window corner, ever be forgot,
Where through the woodbine—when with upward ray
Gleamed the last shadow of departing day—
Still did I sit, and with unwearied eye,
Read while I wept, and scarcely paused to sigh!
In that gay drawer, with fairy fictions stored,
When some new tale was added to my hoard,
While o'er each page my eager glance was flung,