Sir Walter Scott



                   A serenade


                   Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh,
                     The sun has left the lea;
                   The orange-flower perfumes the bower;
                     The breeze is on the sea;
                   The lark, his lay who thrill’d all day,
                     Sits hush’d his partner nigh:
                   Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour,
                     But where is County Guy?

                   The village maid steals through the shade
                     Her shepherd’s suit to hear;
                   To Beauty shy, by lattice high,
                     Sings high-born cavalier.
                   The star of Love, all stars above,
                     Now reigns o’er earth and sky,
                   And high and low the influence know —
                     But where is County Guy?

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