Classic Poem

Now forth the Poet rambles with the spring
Southern the morning speeds on easy wing
With winds soft whispering sunshine all the way
In glorious promise of a healt[h]y day
He loves to tennant fields & woo wild flowers
Sun shine & showers all weathers & all hours
He loves the common heath all wild where sheep
Paddle their thousand tracks & rabbits leap
Play fully battering every little hill
Thrown up by Moles that burrow at their will
Where tracks of Waggons map the vagrant sward
That claims no fence nor ownerships regard
Yet nature decks it oer with tasteful care
In garment which the May is proud to wear
The gravel walks & borders nicely trim
Have nought of pleasure or delight to him
With more of rapture doth his heart repose
On black beat tracks streaked thro the gipsy close

His thoughts gush out by starts in various moods
Now eddying like a runnel thro the woods
Dallying with pleasant things as it with leaves
Then starts till wider space its glow recieves
& like a cataract dashd with maddening ire
As almost kindles water into fire
His thoughts start out with joys unfelt before
& maddening raptures makes his soul run oer
With its divine consceptions till they rise
Forgetting earth & mix with paradise