Delight my heart

The gatherers seeking entrance pause awhile

Ere they mount up the bank to climb the stile

Half wishing that a better road was nigh

Yet here mid [moss] strewn mornings autumn mild

While pleasing sounds & pleasing sights are bye

Things beautiful delight my heart to smile

Here underneath the stiles moss covered post

A little bunch of fern doth thrive & spring

Hid from the noisey wind & coming frost

Like late reared young neath the wood piegons wing

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