In a sweet fellowship with kinds beloved, 15
For old remembrance sake. And oft—where Spring
Display’d her richest blossoms among files
Of orange-trees bedecked with glowing fruit
Ripe for the hand, or under a thick shade
Of Ilex, or, if better suited to the hour, 20
The lightsome Olive’s twinkling canopy—[133]
Oft have I heard the Nightingale and Thrush
Blending as in a common English grove
Their love-songs; but, where’er my feet might roam,