Vales, spires, meandering streams, and Windsor’s towery pride.
Alexander Pope.
The Holidayer.
The sportive swain in Sunday clothes is dressed,
And struts he proudly, head high held in air;
His sweetheart, who’s with charms like his impressed,
Thinketh, perdie, ‘Are we not both all there’?
Nor lacketh she adornment’s artful aid,
But with enticements rare is she yclout;