John Codrington Bampfylde (Джон Кодрингтон Бампфилд)
Sonnet. On the Morning
Rings the shrill peal of dawn, gay Chanticleer Thrice warning that the Day--star climbs on high, And pales his beam as Phebus' car draws nigh. Now, ere the lawns or distant cribs appear, Or, ere the Crows from wattled sheep--cote veer Their early flight, or wakeful Herdsman's eye Discerns the smoaky hamlet, let me ply My daily task, to guide the labouring steer, Plant the low shrub, remove th' unsightly mound, Or nurse the flow'r, or tend the humming swarms: Thus ever with the Morn may I be found, Far from the hunter--band's discordant yell; So in my breast Content and Health shall dwell, And conscious Bliss, and Love of Nature's charms.
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