"Spring Night"

by Thomas Westwood

Slow, horses, slow,
As thro' the wood we go--
We should count the stars in heaven,
Hear the grasses grow:

Watch the cloudlets few
Dappling the deep blue,
In our open palms outspread
Catch the blessed dew.

Slow, horses, slow,
As thro' the wood we go--
We would see fair Dian rise
With her huntress bow:

We would hear the breeze
Ruffling the dim trees,
Hear its sweet love-ditty set
To endless harmonies.

Slow, horses, slow,
As thro' the wood we go--
All the beauty of the night
We would learn and know!

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