on a bank of flowers
on a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
for summer lightly drest,
the youthful, blooming nelly lay,
with love and sleep opprest;
when willie, wand'ring thro' the wood,
who for her favour oft had sued;
he gaz'd, he wish'd
he fear'd, he blush'd,
and trembled where he stood.
her closed eyes, like weapons sheath'd,
were seal'd in soft repose;
her lip, still as she fragrant breath'd,
it richer dyed the rose;
the springing lilies, sweetly prest,
wild-wanton kissed her rival breast;
he gaz'd, he wish'd,
he mear'd, he blush'd,
his bosom ill at rest.
her robes, light-waving in the breeze,
her tender limbs embrace;
her lovely form, her native ease,
all harmony and grace;
tumultuous tides his pulses roll,
a faltering, ardent kiss he stole;
he gaz'd, he wish'd,
he fear'd, he blush'd,
and sigh'd his very soul.
as flies the partridge from the brake,
on fear-inspired wings,
so nelly, starting, half-awake,
away affrighted springs;
but willie follow'd—as he should,
he overtook her in the wood;
he vow'd, he pray'd,
he found the maid
forgiving all, and good.