William Shenstone Poems
Ye birds! for whom I rear'd the grove,
With melting lay salute my love;
My Daphne with your notes detain,
Or I have rear'd my grove in vain.
Ye flowers! before her footsteps rise:
Display at once your brightest dyes;
That she your opening charms may see,
Or what are all your charms to me?
Kind Zephyr! brush each fragrant flower,
And shed its odours round my bower;
Or never more, O gentle Wind!
Shall I from thee refreshment find.
Ye Streams! if e'er your banks I loved,
If e'er your native sounds improved,
May each soft murmur soothe my ...
What village but has sometimes seen
The clumsy shape, the frightful mien,
Tremendous claws, and shagged hair
Of that grim brute yclept a bear?
He from his dam the learn'd agree,
Received the curious form you see;
Who with her plastic tongue alone,
Produced a visage-like her own-
And thus they hint, in mystic fashion,