| |
|
Ah! County
Guy, the hour is nigh
The sun has left the lea,
The orange-flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is
on the sea.
The lark, his lay who trill’d all day,
Sits hush’d his partner nigh;
Breeze, bird, and
flower confess the hour,
But where is County Guy?
The village maid steals through the shade
Her shepherd’s suit to hear;
To Beauty shy, by
lattice high,
Sings high-born Cavalier.
The star
of Love, all stars above,
Now reigns o’er earth and
sky,
And high and low the influence know—
But
where is County Guy?
|
|
|
