Go, sit upon ty hill,

    And turn your eyes around,

    ers wild

    Do umn sound.

    t on them --

    t --

    Sit still -- as all transformd to stone,

    Except your musing .

    in summer-time,

    May yet be in your mind;

    And he green woods sing

    Beneathe freshening wind.

    the same wind now blows around,

    You s blast recall;

    For every breat stirs trees,

    Doto fall.

    O h

    t fles impart:

    e cannot bear its visitings,

    .

    Gay s may make us smile,

    hen Sorrow is asleep;

    But ot make us smile,

    hen Sorrow bids us weep!

    t  clasp our hands, --

    their presence may be oer;

    t voice t meets our ear,

    t tone may come no more!

    Youth,

    hich once refreshd our mind,

    Shose sighing woods,

    tumn wind.

    t the woods;

    Look out oer vale and hill-

    In spring, them --

    till.

    Come autumns scaters cold --

    Come ce!

    ever prospect h bound,

    Can neer be desolate.