Laura Sophia Temple

Sonnet 4. To the BANKS of the EX

Oft does my heart recal each bloomy grace,
That clothes thy woodland-wilds enchanting scene;
And oft does musing thought delighted trace,
Each lovely feature of thy vallies green.
Ah! myrtle shades! where late I wont to stray,
And meet soft interchange of friendship's glance;
Ah wavey hills! whose tops of sombre grey,
First woke the bounding throb of young Romance.
How I have ponder'd o'er your mantling charms!
And worn ye in my heart for many a year!
How has my fancy woo'd ye to her arms,
And brought your well-remember'd beauties near!
And still--oh still be Mem'ry's proudest boast,
The golden hours I lived on Devon's coast.