Classic Poem

I ANTHE ! since our parting day
Pleasure and you were far away.
Leave you then all that strove to please
In proud Vienna's palaces
To soothe your Landor's heart agen
And roam once more our hazel glen?
Formerly you have held my hand
Along the lane where now I stand,
In idle sadness looking round
The lonely disenchanted ground,
And take my pencil out, and wait
To lay the paper on this gate.
About my temples what a hum
Of freshly wakened thought is come!
Ah! not without a throb or two
That shake me as they used to do.
Where alders rise up dark and dense
But just behind the wayside fence,
A stone there is in yonder nook
Which once I borrowed of the brook;
And the first hind who fain would cross
Must leap five yards or feel its loss.
You sate beside me on that stone,
Rather (not much) too wide for one.
Suggesting to our arms and knees
Most whimsical contrivances.
Unsteady stone! and never quite
(Tho' often very near it) right,
And putting to sore shifts my wit
To roll it out, then steddy it,
And then to prove that it must be
Too hard for any one but me.
Ianthe come! ere June declines
We'll write upon it all these lines.