Rosy Hannah: a Song


A SPRING o’erhung with many a flow’r,
The grey sand dancing in its bed,
Embank’d beneath a Hawthorn bower,
Sent forth its waters near my head:
A rosy Lass approach’d my view; 5
I caught her blue eye’s modest beam:
The stranger nodded ‘How d’ye do!’
And leap’d across the infant stream.
The water heedless pass’d away:
With me her glowing image stay’d.10
I strove, from that auspicious day,
To meet and bless the lovely Maid.
I met her where beneath our feet
Through downy Moss the Wild-Thyme grew;
Nor Moss elastic, flow’rs though sweet,15
Match’d Hannah’s cheek of rosy hue.
I met her where the dark Woods wave,
And shaded verdure skirts the plain;
And when the pale Moon rising gave
New glories to her cloudy train. 20
From her sweet Cot upon the Moor
Our plighted vows to Heaven are flown;
Truth made me welcome at her door,
And rosy Hannah is my own. [1] 


[1] [1st edn, 1st state adds note:] This delightful little song is charmingly set to music by Mr. ISAAC BLOOMFIELD, the brother to the author. In this speaking my opinion of the music, I speak, not only my own sentiments, but those of a lady distinguished by her voice, skill, taste, and expression. C. L.] omitted in 1st edn, 2nd state and later edns BACK


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