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Wild Flowers - Or, Pastoral and Local Poetry by Robert Bloomfield
page 36 of 76 (47%)
And buskin'd to resist the morning dew;
With downcast look she courtsied to the ground,
Just in his path--no room to sidle round.

An Interview.

"Well, pretty girl, this early rising yields
The best enjoyment of the groves and fields,
And makes the heart susceptible and meek,
And keeps alive that rose upon your cheek.
I long'd to meet you, Peggy, though so shy,
I've watch'd your steps and learn'd your history;
You love your poor lame father, let that be
A happy presage of your love for me.
Come then, I'll stroll these meadows by your side,
I've seen enough to wish you for my bride,
And plainly tell you so.--Nay, let me hold
This guiltless hand, I prize it more than gold;
Of that I have my share, but now pursue
Such lasting wealth as I behold in you.
My lands are fruitful and my gardens gay,
My houshold cheerful as the summer's day;
One blessing more will crown my happy life,
Like Adam, pretty girl, I want a wife."

Frequent Meetings.--Family Pride.

Need it be told his suit was not denied,
With youth, and wealth, and candour on his side
Honour took charge of love so well began,
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