The Delaware Gazette

Poetry.

A WISH.

Mine be the abbey's wild retreat,
With park and wood surrounded wide.
Where grass should form a verdant seat
And field flowers shed their scented pride:
The abbey, where the armour'd hall
Should own the painted window's light;
The oak-grown walk, where rooks should call
Returning from their evening flight;
The river lost among the trees,
The torrent rushing down the steep:
Groves, where the summer's sighing breeze
In moonlight night might tempt to sleep:
There, through the lonely path I'd rove,
And stop to catch the viper's gleam;
Led by the valued youth I love,
I'd watch the sun's expiring beam.
Oft on his arm I'd range the wood,
Or, lonely, in the park I'd read,
Or frequent seek the shaded flood,
Rousing the wild deer with my tread.
And as the moon, in Autumn's night,
Silver'd the fallen leaves, and cast
Along our path a track of light,
We'd roam, nor fear the howling blast,
The leafless trees, the thick strewn path
May call uncheck'd the thinking sigh,
And the loud wind's destructive wrath
May warn us that we both must die.
But then the rolling orbs above,
The starry concave, would proclaim
That other worlds should see our love.
And sanctify the glorious name.