'Twas a blithe morning in the aureate month Of July, when, in pride of summer power, The sun enliven'd nature: dew-besprent, A wilderness of flowers their scent exhaled Into the soft, warm zephyr; early a-foot, On public roads, and by each hedge-way path, From the far North, and from Hybernia's strand, With vestures many-hued, and ceaseless chat, The reapers to the coming harvest plied-- Father and mother, stripling and young child, On back or shoulder borne. I trode again A scene of youth, bright in its natural lines Even to a stranger's eyes when first time seen, But sanctified to mine by many a fond And faithful recognition. O'er the Esk, Swoln by nocturnal showers, the hawthorn hung Its garland of green berries, and the bramble Trail'd 'mid the camomile its ripening fruit. Most lovely was the verdure of the hills-- A rich luxuriant green, o'er which the sky Of blue, translucent, clear without a cloud, Outspread its arching amplitude serene. With many a gush of music, from each brake Sang forth the choral linnets; and the lark, Ascending from the clover field, by fits Soar'd as it sang, and dwindled from the sight. 'Mid the tall meadow grass the ox reclined, Or bent his knee, or from beneath the shade Of the broad beech, with ruminant mouth, gazed forth. Rustling with wealth, a tissue of fair fields, Outstretch'd to left and right in luxury; And the fir forests on the upland slopes Contrasted darkly with the golden grain. II. Pensively by the river's bank I stray'd-- Now gazing on the corn-fields ripe and rich; Now listening to the carol of the birds From bush and brake, that with mellifluous notes Fill'd the wide air; and now in mournful thought-- That yet was full of pleasure--running through The mazy past. I know not how it was, But from the sounds--the season--and the scene-- Soften'd my heart; and, as the swallow wings In autumn back to softer sunnier climes-- When summer, like a bright fallacious dream, Hath with its flowers and fragrance pass'd away-- So, from the turmoil of maturer years, In boyish thoughts my spirit sought relief. III.