Costs, Lucv ! while a#39;tis morning hour, The woodland brook we needs must pass; 80, ere the sun assume his power, We shelter in our poplar bovver, Where dew lies long upon the flower, Though vanisha#39;d from the velvet grass. Curbing the stream, this stony ... And why does Lucy shun mine eye! Is it because that crimsonanbsp;...
|Title||:||The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart|
|Author||:||Walter Scott, Sir Walter Scott|