As late I rambled in the happy fields,
     What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew
     From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
     A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw
     Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew
As is the wand that queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
     I thought the garden-rose it far excell'd:
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me
     My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd:
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea

      Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness
unquell'd.