Chapter VI

Yet nature holds a gracious hand,
Her ancient ways pursuing;
And spreads the charms we loved of old,
To aid the heart's renewing.

Here her long crests of fring├Ęd crag
Allure the skyward swallows;
Here the still dove's low love-note floats
Above her leafy hollows.

Here its calm strength her hillside rears,
From heaving slopes of clover;
Here still the pewit pipes and flits
Within his furzy cover.

Here hums the wild-bee in the thyme,
Here glows the royal heather;
And youth comes back upon the breeze,
And youth's unclouded weather.

_F.T. Palgrave._