John Codrington Bampfylde

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.