... ie« Among the bowers Oh ! beautiful in Summers morn. Were your rich robe* bloom : But are worn and withered now, lndnys and bloom. Arcundyou sweeps the howling blast; Above you lowers the sky And loudly roars muddy brook. At Cut it harries by. To hail your hirth the linct sang Within the sunny dells The humming bees came clustering forth, To nestle 'mid your bells. But sad the singing bird now ...