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When I behold this beauteous scene As the pale evening sets serene, And mark along the winding flood The last faint sunshinetouch the wooch the wood, And from the rocky [fragment?] near, The slowly dripping water hear, Each anxious thought is hushed to rest; Yet one-one wish [springs?] in my breast, Could I call back the seasons [crossed out word] fled, Or wake the slumbers of the dead, That some such still retreat were mine, And thou for whom my spirits pine, Were yet alive with me to share, The peaceful joys of nature there, O fruitless wish! yet may I pray To him who gives and takes away That [these?] green woods, this fair domain, For ages may their charms retain That when some wanderer, who has lost His heart's best object, who has [crossed] In life hard hills, and passes rude, Should reach this lovely solitude: Delighted he may pause awhile, And as he views the landscape [smile?], Leave with its willows e'er he part The blessings of a softened heart-

Written on the [bathing?] [house?] at [illegible] the seat of [Coll?] Lemon. by Mr [Bowles?].