Reverie Of Poor Susan, The Reverie Of Poor Susan, The |
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Reverie Of Poor Susan, TheReverie Of Poor Susan, The
Reverie Of Poor Susan, The
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years:
Poor Susan has pass`d by the spot, and has heard
In the silence of morning the song of the bird.
`Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees
A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;
Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,
And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale
Down which she so often has tripp`d with her pail;
And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove`s,
The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.
She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade,
The mist and the river, the hill and the shade;
The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,
And the colours have all pass`d away from her eyes!
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