Yon wand'ring rill that marks the hill, And glances o'er the brae, Sir, Slides by a bower, where mony a flower Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir; There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay, To love they thought no crime, Sir, The wild birds sang, the echoes rang, While Damon's heart beat time, Sir. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRAIRIES by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TO CORINTH by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR AT A VACATION EXERCISE IN THE COLLEGE by JOHN MILTON THE SOLITARY WOODSMAN by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS AN INVITATION TO A DRINKFEST by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PSALM 82 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE DEAD COMRADE by EDWARD CARPENTER |