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TOBIAS GEORGE SMOLLETT

1721-1771

478                                           To Leven Water

PURE stream, in whose transparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents stain thy limpid source,
No rocks impede thy dimpling course
Devolving from thy parent lake
A charming maze thy waters make
By bowers of birch and groves of pine
And edges flowerd with eglantine.

Still on thy banks so gaily green
May numerous herds and flocks be seen,
And lasses chanting oer the pail,
And shepherds piping in the dale,
And ancient faith that knows no guile,
And industry embrownd with toil,
And hearts resolved and hands prepared
The blessings they enjoy to guard.

 

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