CO ^V SLIPS. 



HOWITT 



Oh ! fragrant dwellers of the lea, 

 When iirst the wild wood rings 

 With each sound of vernal minstrelsy, 

 When fresh the green grass springs ! 



What can the blessed Spring restore 

 More gladdening than your cliarms 1 

 Bringing the memory once more 

 Of lovely lields and farms ! 



Of thickets, breezes, birds, and flowers ; 

 Of life's unfolding prime ; 

 Of thoughts as cloudless as the hours ; 

 Of souls without a crime. 



Oh ! blessed, blessed do ye sQem, 

 For, even now, I turn'd, 

 With soul athirst for wood and stream. 

 From streets that irlared and burn'd : 



