While Summer Suns O'er the Gay Prospect Play'd
While summer suns o'er the gay prospect play'd,Through Surrey's verdant scenes, where Epsom spread'Mid intermingling elms her flowery meads,And Hascombe's hill, in towering groves array'd,Rear'd its romantic steep, with mind serene,I journey'd blithe. Full pensive I return'd;For now my breast with hopeless passion burn'd,Wet with hoar mists appear'd the gaudy scene,Which late in careless indolence I pass'd;And Autumn all around those hues had castWhere past delight my recent grief might trace.Sad change, that Nature a congenial gloomShould wear, when most, my cheerless mood to chase,I wish'd her green attire, and wonted bloom!
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