WINDSOR-FOREST.
19
Oft' in her glass the Musing shepherd spies
The headlong mountains and the downward skies,
The watry Landskip of the pendant Woods,
And absent trees that tremble in the floods;
In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
And floating forests paint the waves with green.
Thro' the fair scene rowl slow the ling'ring streams
Then foaming, pour along, and rush into the Thames.
Thou too, great father of the British floods!
With joyful pride survey our lofty woods;
Where tow'ring Oaks their spreading honours rear,
And future Navies on thy banks appear.
Not Neptune's self from all his floods receives
A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives.
No seas so rich, so full no streams appear,
No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear.
The headlong mountains and the downward skies,
The watry Landskip of the pendant Woods,
And absent trees that tremble in the floods;
In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
And floating forests paint the waves with green.
Thro' the fair scene rowl slow the ling'ring streams
Then foaming, pour along, and rush into the Thames.
Thou too, great father of the British floods!
With joyful pride survey our lofty woods;
Where tow'ring Oaks their spreading honours rear,
And future Navies on thy banks appear.
Not Neptune's self from all his floods receives
A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives.
No seas so rich, so full no streams appear,
No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear.
B 2
Not