A lord of creation, by the author of 'Ethel'.

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Página 328 - The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.
Página 328 - The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale; The busy bee her honey now she mings ; Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale. And thus I see among these pleasant things Each care decays; and yet my sorrow springs.
Página 328 - The soote season that bud and bloom forth brings, With green hath clad the hill, and eke the vale; The nightingale, with feathers new, she sings; The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come ! for every spray now springs; The hart hath hung his old head o'er the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he Sings; The fishes float with new repaired scale; The adder all her slough away she flings; The swift swallow pursueth the flies small; The busy bee her honey new she brings. Winter is...

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