While summer suns o'er the gay prospect play'd, <br />Through Surrey's verdant scenes, where Epsom spread <br />'Mid intermingling elms her flowery meads, <br />And Hascombe's hill, in towering groves array'd, <br />Rear'd its romantic steep, with mind serene, <br />I journey'd blithe. Full pensive I return'd; <br />For now my breast with hopeless passion burn'd, <br />Wet with hoar mists appear'd the gaudy scene, <br />Which late in careless indolence I pass'd; <br />And Autumn all around those hues had cast <br />Where past delight my recent grief might trace. <br />Sad change, that Nature a congenial gloom <br />Should wear, when most, my cheerless mood to chase, <br />I wish'd her green attire, and wonted bloom!<br /><br />Thomas Warton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/while-summer-suns-o-er-the-gay-prospect-play-d-2/
